Free Reparation by Sawyer Bennett

Monday’s
usually suck, but not today. I step off the elevator, and I have a
bit of a spring in my step. I’m looking awesome in my black
pencil skirt with a white, silk, wraparound blouse. I’m wearing
the Louboutins that Matt first fucked me in, and I’m on top of
the world.
    Bea does a double
take when she sees me. “Damn, Mac… you look fantastic.”
    Yes, I curled my
hair today, put on a little extra makeup, and fine… I actually
put on a darker shade of lipstick to accentuate my mouth so that when
Matt looked at it, he would think of a wet blow job.
    But I can’t
help it… I want to be pretty for Matt today. I want him not to
have a doubt in the world that I’m the best damn risk he’ll
ever take.
    “Thanks, Bea,”
I chirp at her and sashay by.
    “He’s a
negative five by the way,” she calls out.
    I stop and turn
around to look at her, my eyes wide in wonder. “A negative
five?”
    “Yeah, it kind
of freaked me out. He came in with boxes of donuts for everyone. He
smiled at me, and I swear a freakin’ rainbow shot out of his
butt. He even complimented the scarf that I’m wearing.”
    I giggle because Bea
sounds totally shell shocked by Matt’s behavior. It was only
last week he was cursing at the staff, causing them to run from the
office in tears. But just this weekend… he and I made our
amends, and Matt asked me out on a date.
    I squeal inside like
a high school drama queen. Yay, me!
    Matt had called me
Sunday as soon as he got home. We talked for almost two hours and he
did, indeed, ask me out for a date on Friday night. I’m not
sure what exactly changed for Matt, but he seemed to let go of all of
his fear and anger, and he actually seems to be embracing this
attempt to have a real relationship with me.
    I’m on fucking
Cloud Nine.
    When I get in my
office, the first thing I spy is the white daisy laying on my desk on
top of a cream-colored envelope. Picking up the flower, I hold it to
my nose and smell its wildness. I set it back down and open the
envelope. There’s a cream, linen card on the inside that says:

    I don’t
think I can wait for Friday to take you on a date.
    How about
tonight?
    Matt

    The swelling of
elation inside me is overwhelming. I hum with unbridled energy, and I
feel like I could conquer the world. Because Matt Fucking Connover…
the man that is relationship averse and emotionally closed off…
cannot wait until Friday to go on a date with me.
    It’s like I’m
in high school and just got asked to the prom by the star
quarterback. I want to jump around my office and do a little dance.
    In fact, I think I
will. Hopping back a few feet from my desk, I bend my knees, stick my
ass out, and shake it all around, while waving my arms in the air.
    I’m pumped up…
high on Matt.
    “That’s
some pretty funky dancing.”
    Yelping, I spin to
the doorway and see Matt causally leaning against it, his hands in
his pockets and the cutest grin on his face, making his dimples extra
deep.
    My face flushes hot,
but then I decide to own it. Sticking my chin up, I say, “I was
just excited. It appears I might have a hot date tonight.”
    Matt does his quick
look left and right down the hall, and satisfied that no one is
around, steps into my office. He shuts the door and walks up to me
with purpose, a cocky grin on his face.
    He is spectacular
today, wearing a dark gray suit with a blue power tie. It’s
tailored so well, I can practically see the muscles in his shoulders
straining against it.
    Matt takes his right
hand and skims his fingers along the side of my neck, all the way
around to the base of my skull. I feel his hand open wide and then he
grabs a handful of my hair, twisting it several times around his
wrist. When he has me well and truly captured, he pulls slightly,
causing my head to tilt back and expose my throat. Bending over, he
places light kisses along my jaw, all the way to my ear, where he
murmurs, “I take that is a yes to my invitation to go out
tonight?”
    I