(I often write bdsm erotica, this is my attempt at writing without it. What do you think?)
She was so nervous, her heart pounded so loud she was sure everyone could hear it.
This was the fifth time she was in his office, an open landscape with about eight to ten desks where he and his coworkers slaved away with their different tasks.
He was an accountant, and the first time she met him, he had been assigned to her case to help her with some documents for her new start-up business.
At a first glance there was nothing that special about him. He was not particularly tall, he wore glasses, had dark, brown hair and a short beard. He wasn’t muscular or even that fit, you could call it a “dad-bod” if you wished, only that he didn’t have any children (yes, the second time she met him she had created an excuse to ask him). But there was something, something in his eyes, that had made her weak just minutes after sitting down with him. His smile was warm and when he laughed, she felt spellbound.
She herself was considered a beautiful woman. She had long, wavy, red hair, all natural, and her green eyes made people ask if she wore contact lenses. She was rather slim, but with curves, and she wore clothes to accentuate that. And yet, here she was, feeling as if she had forgotten everything about flirting and acting coy like she normally did when men hit on her.
Because this man hadn’t.
He had been professional, smiling and laughing with her, but never once made any kind of pass or even commented on her looks like most men did.