Olympian Complex

Scott flicked on the light on his way into the Director’s office. He sauntered to a guest chair, lounging casually draping one arm across the back of the chair, knees spread wide. He gave a small smile and a casual nod to the Director’s piercing gaze.

“’sup?”

An icy glare was the only reply until, with a sigh and exaggerated motions, he shifted to sit in the chair properly.

“You will address me with the respect due my station.” The sentence, as expected of her, was icy and direct. the reply, as expected of him, was warm and sarcastic.

“Yes, ma’am”

Secretly, she burned for him. He knew, but would never tell. Instead, he gave her an easy smile, a conspiratorial wink. She gave him a dark glare. Scott relaxed. If she wasn’t ready to confront her feelings for him, hey, that’d be ok. He’d be here, waiting, when she did.

“You need to take your work enviornment more seriously.”

In Scott’s mind, she rose from behind the desk, sweeping it clear of the various accouterments that cluttered it. In his mind, she pulled a riding crop from the desk drawer, ticking it against her palm once, twice, thrice. “You’ve been a very naughty boy,” she dd not say.

“Is that clear?”

In her own mind, she did no such thing. If she could see into his mind at this moment, it would only serve to reinforce what she already knew — men were pigs, out to get one thing and one thing alone. It was a good thing she had no use for sex — she might, if she were so inclined, waste valuable time drooling over his sandy hair, his luscious blue eyes — why, she might even find herself smitten with his cocky, arrogant smirk! Of all the things, could anyone imagine her, Eva Mendell, smitten like a schoolgirl?

“Yes ma’am.”