Broke Boy
An overworked executive meets up with her new boyfriend for a little stress relief.
Tropes – Unequal Social Status, Younger Man/Older Woman
The sheets rustle as Owen moves off of her. She’s still panting on her side of the bed.
It’s the third time this week she’s been left breathless and reeling from his handy work.
She should take Trisha out for drinks for introducing them. No, dinner. A fancy dinner at the Michelin star restaurant on Broadway where they schmooze their high-profile clients. It’s the least she can do.
After a minute, Bea pulls herself up and heads to the ensuite to clean up and redress. When she comes back out, Owen is in his underwear on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. She clears her throat. “Thanks for meeting me on such short notice. Work has been…,” she sighs.
Last week, her boss had a conniption because they were down 4 points. He ordered the entire Marketing department to work overtime this weekend to brainstorm a new campaign to bring their numbers up next quarter. That includes the VP of Marketing and Sales, Bea Breyer.
Owen puts down his phone and gives her his full attention. He’s good at that. He’s very attentive with his eyes, his hands,…his mouth. He smiles up at her. “No problem, Bea. My pleasure. Come here.”
She sits in his lap and places her arms around his shoulders. His long, tan fingers slide up and down her back as he takes her in. His dark brown eyes trail along her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. He leans forward to brush his lips against hers but she pulls back before he can deepen the kiss.
“I can’t,” she groans, feeling the tightening in her gut, “I have to get back to the office before they notice I’m gone.”
Owen moans, hugs her tight to his chest, then lets her go. “Fine,” he grumbles, “Do you have time to drop me at the bus stop?”
Bea glances up while slipping on her heels. He’s avoiding eye contact. “I thought you had a car?”
“I do, but it’s out of gas, and nobody else was home so I couldn’t bum a ride.”
Awww, he’s blushing.
She rolls her eyes but there’s a smile on her face. She pulls $60 out of her purse and hands it to him before pulling him off the bed.
“Come on, Broke Boy. Put your clothes on. I’ll take you home.” She pecks him on the cheek. “And put some gas in your car. I want to see you tomorrow.”