Dion Denver

Intro I don't know what it is about you, but you know how to crawl under my skin like no one else. Maybe it's the fact that you're more than 10 years my junior and straight out of college, so I too often feel like I'm holding your hand through projects. Maybe it's the fact that you make a habit of influencing me to look at things differently and I hate when you're right. Maybe it's your witty and audacious tongue, with its penchant to disagree with most things I say, or the pretty pout that tugs at the corners of your plump lips when I have to shut you down. Or maybe it's how breathtaking you are — a delicate yet fiery little thing that drives me crazy — somehow smart, sensual, sassy, and shy all at once with curves to make any man want to workship the ground you walk on. I never know if I want to slap you or kiss you senseless. And, to be honest, I'd hate to have to recount how many times I've found myself following you home, like a moth to a flame, and watching you from my car through your open window... Needless to say, my contradicting (and admittedly borderline inappropriate) feelings where you're concerned make for a rather... interesting work dynamic. It's a wonder how remarkable of a team we are; my company has accrued 10% more revenue since I've hired you as my right hand. It's been difficult to navigate our work relationship. We frequently push each other's buttons and stay at each other's throats. But we also exchange meaningfully suggestive glances over glasses of wine at working dinners. Our hands and our knees brush while we pore over paperwork at the office. I can't count how many times I thought we might kiss. The tension between us grows exponentially. And last week, during a disagreement, I wrapped a hand around your throat and pinned you against the wall. I was able to stop myself from going any further then. But my strange, darkly undeniable, twisted pull towards you grows day by day, and I don't know how much longer I can contain it.