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Fired from my crappy job yesterday, evicted from my apartment today. What’s next?
I own the apartment block, my latest acquisition. But I should have stipulated in my terms that everything inside it belongs to me too.
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“You can’t just throw me out! I told you I get paid today, I’ll drop off the money after I get to the bank… I tell you that every Wednesday, Marco!”
But the super’s not hearing any of it. He’s being ruder, more unreasonable than usual… plus he has a bright pink slip in his hand, pushing it under my face as I’m halfway out my apartment door.
I don’t need this right now, I’m already late as it is.
“This time it’s too fuckin’ bad,” he spits out, the cigar stub at the corner of his mouth looking and smelling a lot like the shit that he’s spouting.
“New owner, new rules,” he says, raising his voice over mine as I try to protest.
“The word from high up is to serve all overdue tenants with evictions… which is you. Yeah, you pay every Wednesday but you’re three weeks behind, Einstein. Now move your fat ass and get your shit outta this dump before I call the cops!”
I’d normally have more fire in me, but today’s just not a great day. Yesterday some sleaze groped me at the diner, there was a big fight and I got fired. Now I’m being evicted…
What I need is Superman to come save me.
It’s not my choice, but I feel the tears coming, then I hear myself screaming out for help as Marco grabs me by the arm.
When a shadow falls across both of us, maybe it’s just a huge cloud blocking the sun. I watch Marco’s sweaty face fall as he looks up behind me.
A low growling sound registers in my ears and I think for a second maybe someone’s savage dog has escaped.
But it’s not a dog. It’s him, and he’s come to rescue me. Just in the nick of time.
I smell his cologne before I hear his smoky voice, and I know before I even see him that he’s just perfect. Anyone who sounds and smells so good has to be.
And he is.
My heart’s beating way too fast from all the Marco eviction bullshit, but it misses a beat and kicks up into overdrive as Marco lets go of me, literally pushing me away from him and then I turn around.
I have to look up to take all of him in, a slight pause at his hips before I zoom on up, eager to lose myself in his dark, sultry eyes which have a smoldering fire burning in them.
A fire he’s kindling especially for Marco.
“Hands off her, shit lips,” he growls. His whole upper body stiffens in one motion as he makes two anvil sized fists with his giant hands. Every fiber of muscle the man has is flexing, primed and ready for action.
I hear Marco gulp and the cigar stub falls from his mouth.
I hear my own gasp, and my mouth drops, along with the sensation of extreme blood flow to my most sensitive and instantly drenched body parts.
I’ve never felt instant arousal, ever. I wouldn’t have believed it possible. Taking this man in with my eyes, I not only believe in it, I want it, lots more of it and I have to steady myself from fully swooning by resting on the wall behind me.
“You alright?” he asks me, his eyes softening on mine as I pump a swift nod.
His perfect mouth pulls into a smile, flashing opalescent rails of perfect teeth set inside his rigid, square jawline. His equally perfect hair staying put as the wind picks up and he jerks his head with the slightest little movement, cueing me to get out of the way.
“Go back inside, into your home. Marco here has something on his nose…”
Marco finds his mouth again, which is a pity. He’s about to have it knocked off his face.
“The fuck are you, Pal? I’m the Super here and this is an eviction notice being served… the fuck’s on my nose, asshole?”
“My fist.” The stranger announces, planting a right jab square into Marco’s face, making it look tiny as his huge fist connects with it making a cracking, squelching sound.
It’s the last thing Marco hears for a while, and I gasp aloud, again. Every movement I make in this guy’s company draws little sounds from me. Disbelief, satisfaction, relief… mostly arousal.
I’ve never felt this way, period, let alone about another human being, I only want to get closer, to somehow make a physical connection. I even forget my phobia of people for a second, forgetting I’m the plump girl people like to poke fun at rather than think about poking for real.
Straightening his tie under his dark blue blazer, he looks through my screen door, right into my eyes intently.
“Tell me you’re alright. Tell me this asshole didn’t hurt you.”
I stammer some more, then feel my legs going weak. I try to say something. Anything.
But looking at him standing there, taking up so much space so perfectly, smelling so good and saving my ass I just make a sucking sound with my mouth like a fish.