Swept Away At the Masked Ball, page 1
Imani Jay
Swept Away At The Masked Ball
Halloween Steam
Copyright © 2021 by Imani Jay
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Contents
DESCRIPTION
JAWAL
ELI
JAWAL
ELI
JAWAL
ELI
JAWAL
OWNED BY MY BEST FRIEND - CHAPTER 1
About the Author
Also by Imani Jay
DESCRIPTION
JAWAL
Eli Thompson is my coworker and office husband. We always joke about how, given the chance, we’d do each other in a heartbeat. But it’s all for fun, right? RIGHT?!
ELI
She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Fun, smart… my dream girl. But she’s also my colleague and friend. We can’t jeopardize our relationship, right? RIGHT?!
Everything changes on a magical night of beautiful gowns and dashing tuxedos…
Read along to find out if these two flirty office mates will stop at one steamy taste or jump all in!
This is a short, fun office romance, where a curvy girl finally gives in to her attraction for her hunk of a colleague. There’s minimal drama, no cheating, no cliffhanger, and the HEA is absolutely guaranteed. Enjoy!
JAWAL
“Hey friend,” I type in our office online chat.
“Hey beautiful, what’s up?” Eli responds.
I sigh at the term of endearment. “Not much. How are you?”
“Better now,” he replies with a winking emoji.
I smile from ear to ear, my fingers clicking on the keyboard. “Do you have my month-end report, Mr. McFlirty?”
He types back: “lol. Yeah, it’s ready.”
“Then, why didn’t you send it?!” I shoot back, still grinning like the fool I am.
“Come on, I wouldn’t hear from you if I sent you the report right away.”
I giggle. “You’re so annoying.”
“Woah, what’s with all the giggling?” My boss, Nia asks from behind me.
And before I can attempt to hide my computer screen, she leans over my shoulder, eyes riveted to my exchange with Eli.
“Girl, get the report and finish your month-end entries, then you can chitchat with your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I whine playfully.
She throws me a smirk. “Whatever you tell yourself, babe. Finish your entries, I don’t want you working late today or over the weekend. We’re gonna enjoy the Halloween shenanigans,” she adds on her way to her office.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answer with a grin.
She doesn’t have to tell me twice! I don’t think I’ve ever had a boss as cool as Nia. She might be the accounting manager of Capital Insurance Company, one of the largest insurance groups on the West Coast, but she’s just a down-to-earth, funny as hell, super nice girl. Honestly, most people in this company are great. But of course, the number one spot belongs to my one and only ‘office hubby’: Eli Thompson.
Eli joined CIC six months ago as our actuarial manager. He’s super smart and an absolute babe. Over six feet tall, he has kind, dark brown eyes, a straight, masculine nose, high cheekbones, a strong, square jaw covered in a neatly trimmed beard. His dark facial hair surrounds a sensual mouth, with a generous lower lip I’m dying to taste. I dream of running my hand over his buzzed hair. I bet it’s super soft. I want to press a kiss on the dimple that creases his left cheek when he sends me one of his panty-annihilating grins. Gah! I’m so hot for this guy! I’ve imagined endless scenarios where he corners me in a broom closet (I don’t even know where we have those!), props me up on some shelf, lifts my skirt, rips off my underwear and settles himself between my wide-open legs, while I hang on to dear life on his linebacker shoulders… God, I need to get laid.
***
I’m a senior accountant for CIC. I like what I do. It’s not the most thrilling job in the world, but it’s interesting, reliable, and the money is more than decent. I’ve been with the company for four years. Four years during which I got along with my colleagues, made a few friends I see outside of the office, but I never crushed on anyone. Before Eli, I didn’t even consider the possibility of getting involved with someone from work.
Life is so strange and unpredictable. One day, we received one of those emails introducing a new hire, and before I knew it, there I was, falling in lust at first sight with the hottest guy I’d ever met in real life. Our head of HR, Josh Browlyn, walked Eli around to introduce him to the different teams he’d be working with. I can’t even remember what day it was, what I was working on or what I was wearing. But the image of Eli Thompson standing at the entrance of my cubicle, his gorgeous smile sending warm fuzzies through my chest, is forever imprinted in my mind. He had on a crisp, sky-blue button-down shirt, charcoal gray slacks, sexy as hell dress shoes, and the waft of his cologne lingered in my space long after they left…
I’m not doubting myself. I know I’m an amazing woman. I love my fun, kind personality. I’ve totally learned to embrace my inner nerd and rock my curves. I know I can have most guys I’m attracted to. But, let’s face it: if Eli had actually been interested in me, he’d have asked me out by now. We’ve been sending each other steamy gazes, sitting together every chance we get, exchanging flirty chat messages, and ‘accidentally’ touching so many times we’re both effectively set for a harassment lawsuit. But we’ve never hung out outside of work. Shit, Eli has never asked for my number, or even my personal email. What handsome, successful, confident man, who sees you’re into him, does that? One that’s not serious about you.
It’s all good, though. I had dreams and hopes for a few months, waited and let myself believe we were a possibility. But I’ve made my peace with us not happening. Eli is my office hubby, I’m his work wife, and I’ll enjoy the butterflies while they last. I’m sure in a few months I’ll be over him, right? Right?!
Anyway, tomorrow night’s our company’s annual Halloween Masked Ball and since we’re allowed to bring a plus-one, that will be the perfect opportunity for me to start moving away from this fixation. My cousin introduced me to one of her husband’s colleagues, Ben. We went out a few times. He’s good-looking enough, fun to hang out with, and a doctor. If my mother ever finds out, I’ll be stuck with him for life!
Ben might be my best chance at moving on from this whole Eli mess, and I invited him as my date for tomorrow night’s event. I’m hoping that seeing them next to each other will make something click in my brain. Like: ‘here’s reality and there is fantasy, the two shall not be confused’. I don’t know. I just hope I didn’t make a mistake by inviting a man I have mild feelings for to the event my crush will also attend…
ELI
I lower the hand-held carnival mask from my face and take a sip of my drink. Fidgeting with the collar of my crisp white shirt and unnecessarily fixing my cuff links, I’m fighting to keep my eyes away from the entrance of the ballroom where our company’s annual Halloween Masked Ball is being held. I force my attention toward my companions. Josh Browlyn, our company’s head of human services, and his date to this event, Nia Farrow, who’s also Jawal’s boss. These two have the weirdest connection. You can never tell if they’re about to jump at each other’s throat or lock themselves in a conference room for some totally NSFW activities. I personally bet on the second option.
The other couple completing our small huddle consists of Absa Diop, our controller and Byron Willis, the company’s legal advisor. Now, these two are clearly crazy for each other, without any of the batshit vibes emanating from Josh and Nia. From what I’ve gathered, they met at work and tied the knot within a few months. My eyes linger on their joined hands with a twinge of envy. Come on, man: tonight’s the night!
I’m done fucking around with Jawal. I’ve been a total turd since we met. Staring at her
with lovesick eyes, flirting my ass off like some stupid teenager, instead of coming out with it and asking her out like a man. That’s done. For the first time we’ll be seeing each other in a somewhat non-professional environment and I absolutely intend on taking full advantage of the situation.
I can’t wait to see her. See what she’s wearing. My girl’s fucking gorgeous. Long, silky, ebony hair. Milky complexion with just a pinch of coffee thrown in. The features of a fucking fairy tale princess. All big, expressive eyes, cute nose, high cheekbones, and sensual mouth. And her body? Made for fucking sin. I have recurring dreams about the things I want to do to her full tits, curvy waist, wide hips and round ass.
I nervously wipe away the sheen of sweat covering my upper lip. Fuck, I feel like a high schooler about to take his first date to prom. You gotta get it together, Thompson. I have no reason to be nervous: our attraction is off the charts and completely mutual. It took one look to know I wanted to fuck her stupid. One smile for my heart to get hooked and every word she’s uttered, each joke we’ve exchanged only got me falling deeper.
I wasn’t expecting any of this. Wasn’t suspecting my new workplace would be where I’d meet the woman meant for me. I happily left my high stress Silicon Valley job for the opportunity I was offered by CIC. A managerial position, cushy salary and much better work-life balance. You bet your ass I packed my things before the ink on my contract was dry. It will be less money in the long run, but totally worth it. I was more than ready for a change of pace and scenery. And so far, I definitely don’t regret my choice: no more late nights at work, I have a great team, management is supportive… and of course there’s Jawal. I can’t fucking wait to make her mine.
I take a deep breath, ordering my heart to chill and my dick to relax, but all that goes to shit when she enters the ballroom. Looking absolutely magnificent in a long, flowy, red number. Jawal’s dress was purposefully designed to simultaneously give me a boner and a heart attack. It’s fucking splendid. The long slit, running from mid-thigh to the floor-length hem, reveals one long, shapely, creamy leg. A thin string of red silk runs around her neck and connects to a sensible v-neck collar that shows just a hint of cleavage. Good girl. I’m about to throw her over my shoulder, march out of this luxury hotel’s reception hall, book us a suite for the rest of the weekend and finally, finally sink deep into my woman. The thought hasn’t finished forming itself in my mind that she turns, exposing her bare neck, shoulders and waist to my hungry eyes, and everyone else’s… Fuck me! The back of Jawal’s red silk dress is non-existent. Long waves of dark brown hair fall to her mid-back, the tips stopping just above the dip of her waistline. Her lips are painted the same fire engine red as the most alluring dress ever created by mankind. I’m about to fucking lose it, pounce over there and plunder Jawal caveman style. Take her away from all these bastards’ covetous gazes. There’s no way every single man and a significant number of women in this room isn’t fantasizing about running their tongue down her spine, pushing her hair to the side to kiss her neck, running their palms along her full curves, tongue-fucking those goddamn blood tainted lips, fisting her hair and watching her gloriously mark their body with bright red. Fuck!
The vague remnant of civility left in my brain makes me grumble something that’s supposed to be “excuse me” to the two couples I’m standing with, but I’m pretty sure it came out as an unintelligible growl. Just as I start toward the ballroom entrance and Jawal, I feel a feminine hand settle on my forearm. I turn and lower my gaze to meet Nia’s.
“You might want to take a second before you go to her.” Her expression is kind and I can clearly see she’s trying to convey appeasement. I don’t understand why, though. Nia’s eyes move pointedly to the other end of the room, in the direction I expect Jawal to be, silently telling me to look. And I motherfucking lose it. If I thought the red dress had driven me mad, that was nothing compared to watching some fucking prick I’ve never seen in my life lay his filthy hand at the small of Jawal’s back. Ladies and gentlemen, I believe my brain just officially exploded. He’s a tall, blond-haired asswipe, sporting a tux and eye-fucking my woman.
I turn my attention back to Nia, quickly rest my hand on top of hers in a thankful gesture and nod, before striding toward Jawal and her ‘date’. Not sure if I’ll settle on wringing her pretty neck or pulling her into the nearest room to fuck some sense into her. What could have possibly gone so wrong that Jawal thought she needed to bring a date to this thing? Someone other than me! The crowd parts to let my tall, built frame pass through. I inhale deeply through my nostrils, in an effort to at least not hulk out of my suit. But the tightness in my jaw tells me I’m grinding my teeth to dust. My knuckles hurt from being fisted so tightly. And my vision is blurry if not for the laser sharp focus on the pair I’m marching toward. I hear my name being called and get a few slaps on the back, but keep moving ahead, barely nodding at the people greeting me. My expression contorted in what I know is a grimace of a smile. Yeah, I’m about to lose it.
JAWAL
Oh My God, this place looks amazing! The Clemence hotel has its main ballroom decorated in what I can only dub Halloween chic. Spiderwebs hang from the molded high ceilings, heavy brocade curtains and lustrous lamps. Mechanical skeletons, mummies, werewolves and zombies blink their artificially lit eyes from different corners of the room. Huge, intricately carved pumpkins are set on white linen covered tables and below the tall columns running the length of the room. The staff passes around carrying trays heavy with fancy drinks and delicious looking appetizers, dressed as scary movie characters. Chucky, Momo, Candy Man, Jason, Freddie… And the music is great. A mishmash of all the fun party anthems from the seventies to recent years. I love it. This is gonna be the best party! I cling on to my excited feeling, pushing down my nervousness at the thought of seeing Eli in a casual setting for the first time, but also while I’m accompanied by another man. Once more, doubt begins creeping through my mind, but I silence the inner voice that’s wondering what the hell I’m doing.
Ben looks dashing in his tuxedo. His thick, blond hair neatly combed back, bright, confident smile firmly in place. He’s been as much of a gentleman as can be expected, seeing as my dress is definitely meant to stir strong reactions. I wore it for myself, of course, but to be perfectly honest, it’s also a fuck-you to Eli. A ‘see what you’re missing, asshole?’ gesture. Petty, I know, but also very necessary. I’m sick and tired of the dude being a total tease. Just how hard is it to whether ask a girl out or simmer down the extreme flirtatiousness?
Speaking of the devil, here comes Mr. Thompson himself in all his tall, dark and handsome tuxedo-ed self. Abso-fucking-lutely magnificent. Droolworthy. His massive shoulders and broad chest fill the expensive fabric of his suit to perfection. Like he was built to dress in formal wear. A current of lust courses through my body as an image of Eli unbuttoning his black slacks to pull out a long, thick, deliciously heavy-headed and thickly veined cock flashes through my mind. Shit, this is not good. I’m somewhat able to control myself around business casual Eli, but this bow tie wearing hunk? Nope. No sirree. It was a stupid idea to bring a date to this event. When my eyes finally manage to detach from Eli’s body and the hypnotizing movement of his bulging biceps and thick thigh muscles, I raise my gaze to his chiseled face and instantly freeze when I notice his dark expression. His strong, stubble covered jaw is set in a hard clench, a muscle jumping in his cheek. The wings of his elegant nose flare with deep inhales. And the frown bunching his thick, arched brows is nothing like the cute air of concentration or pondering I’ve seen him wear. No, the man is fucking pissed. Oh shit, now what? When he reaches us, I attempt a meek smile and hand wave. Both are completely ignored! Eli simply turns to Ben and rumbles in a tone so low and thunderous, I don’t know how the other man doesn’t pee himself: “I’ll take it from here.”
