Ean groaned and blinked blearily. What just happened, he asked no one in particular while his vision cleared.
The stranger was kneeling over him, and now that Ean wasn’t too surprised to take in details she was revealed to be a young woman maybe in her mid-twenties. But more than that: she was gorgeous.
Her hair was tied back, but wisps escaped around her face. It was either a pale brown or a rich gold depending on how the light caught it and while Ean looked up at her the ceiling lights blazed like a halo around her. She had full, soft lips and clear, crystal blue eyes that looked down at him through outrageously long lashes: filled with concern. Her skin was the pale, creamy white of someone who preferred the indoors but tinted with the glow of health and a recent youth.
You slipped, she said, and her voice was like a balm on the ache that thundered in the back of Ean’s skull.
He blinked again, taking in more details while working on a response. She might have had the voice of an angel but she had the body of a succubus: sinuous hips and slender limbs, a narrow waist; long legs and a voluptuously over-endowed chest…all brazenly obvious despite the best efforts of a chaste, office-appropriate blouse and skirt.
Ean swallowed. That, he muttered at me, was an entirely gratuitous description.
And maybe it was, but lets face it: I’m his imaginary friend. Any inappropriate observations I may happen to make I lay entirely at the feet of his subconscious. Besides, he’d been mooning after his ex for so long I hadn’t been certain he’d notice the sublime sexiness of the woman in front of him if I didn’t put it in italics, so to speak.
Uh, Ean said while failing not to stare, Thanks?