Dirty Playboy - Alex Wolf

Rick Lawrence

I’ve been in love with Mary Patrick for one hundred and ninety-two days and I have no idea how it happened.

It still blows my mind.

Regardless, I’m obsessed with her, have been from the first time I saw her in her little conservative outfit, hiding her beauty behind layers and layers of clothing, with her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. I do the same shit I do every day—watch her from afar. Why the hell is she so hot? Is it the Christian thing? Yeah, she’s pretty religious, but not as much as people think. She appears super religious more than anything. That should’ve been an instant turn off.

Wasn’t.

Two smoking-hot transfers from the Dallas office walk by. One of them looks at me then looks away, damn near blushing, swaying her hips back and forth in her little skirt. It should make my dick hard.

Doesn’t.

Barely notice.

I want her the fuck out of my way so I can see Mary again. There’s nothing special about Mary either. She’s ordinary, volunteers at her church, dresses plainly. Maybe it’s because she’s so wholesome? Uncorrupted?

Innocent, perhaps?

I’ve been thinking about this shit for seven months and there is no rational explanation. I feel drawn to her, like the tide predictably coming in every night.

Go talk to her.

Great idea, brain. I believe I will.

My stomach knots up with the first step I take. That never happened until I met Mary. I don’t get nervous like this.

She’s dressed in a too-long, ankle-length skirt and a brown sweater that doesn’t hug her curves nearly enough. It does nothing for her figure. She looks like a fucking disgruntled librarian. She’s wearing glasses today.

Fuck me, those glasses. The dirty things I would do…

“Not today, Rick.” She doesn’t even look up from the file her eyes are glued to.

I didn’t even realize I was this close to her until she says the words.

I clutch at my chest, feigning like she just broke my heart.

She lets out a frustrated sigh, then stares up at me. Those eyes.

There’s nothing special about them. They’re ordinary, cow brown, but fuck, they’re mesmerizing at the same time. They’re soft, like her, even if she does get an attitude every now and again, annoyed with every breath I take.

I’ve talked her into four dates so far. Actually, I called them dates. She said they were not dates, just work colleagues hanging out together. She was adamant about that, made it very clear.

That’ll change.

“You’re killin’ me, Mary.” I still haven’t let go of my chest.

She rolls her eyes.

This is fun for me. Not so much for her.

“Do you need something?”

I hem and haw for a moment, thinking about my answer, so I can be near her longer. I start to say something when Decker Collins, the managing partner walks by.

He doesn’t even stop, just says, “In my office, shithead,” as he walks by.

Goddamn it.

“Thank you, Lord,” Mary mumbles.

“No need to bring our Father into this.” I give her a fake scold.

I swear she almost cracks a smile, or maybe I just hope she does. But she waves me away with a flippant hand and doesn’t even give me the pleasure of showing me those brown eyes again.

“I’ll be back.” I trail off behind Decker.

Mary’s gaze turns back down to her papers. “Oh, I know.”

Usually, when I see a woman I want, I go a hundred percent. Then, I usually fuck her and send her on her way the next day. Women complicate my life when they stick around after the orgasms. I’m not a fan of that.

I glance down at my dick as I follow behind Decker. Poor guy. I’ve been depriving him since the first time I saw Mary, when she transferred from Dallas last year and walked through the damn entrance to my floor, stealing my attention from everything I was doing.

Oh yeah, my dick.

This predicament is brutal for him. It’s pretty ridiculous, the more I think about it. Even when I jerk off, I only think about Mary.

Mary. Mary. Mary.

Fuck.

I tried to force myself to watch porn one day and it felt like I was cheating. I haven’t had to erase my browser history at work in seven months. The fuck is wrong with me?

I’ve got it bad.

My luck will change soon, though.

Mary is a Bible thumper, and I’ve become one too. Which brings us to my master plan. She mentioned at church a while back (yes, I go to church now because of her) about wanting to see Jesus of Nazareth, the play,