Prettiest Girl in the Room

Candice thought about whom she might like best, or if perhaps she should simply cross all three off her list and simply bide her time. Sometimes doing without was better than making the wrong decision.

She had spent her inheritance and life savings garnering a master's degree from a prominent Ivy League university, only to find that snaring a job with that notable degree had proved an exercise in futility.

In the end she had reached out in desperation to snatch the entry level bank job, but $14 an hour with zero benefits to start was not what she had envisioned. Still, she had promised herself she would be swearing off men during her five years at the university. She had been willing to forego the idea of dating and developing romantic interests for the time in school she had slaved away at the books.

Now that she had achieved her five year goal, the time to start dating again was rearing its ugly head. Still, the dating scene had changed so much in the last little while. Now it seemed that dozens of dating sites had sprung up, and that internet dating seemed to be the order of the day.

She shook her head from side to side. She regretted that she had lowered herself to putting her mag cover face on line at those two useless dating cesspools. She was now smart enough to know that in doing so, she had only served to attract hundreds of men daily. Those men had swamped her with countless emails and profiles to sort through. She could not be bothered. What was going to work for the majority of women on the planet, was definitely not going to work for her.

She had proven to herself time and time again that the one thing she never had a problem doing, was getting lots of dates. And most of those had been quality dates. She certainly didn't need any dating sites to muddy those waters. The fact she now had three men pursuing her after only meeting with them two days prior, seemed to bolster the eerie feeling that perhaps it might be time to take a chance on one of them and settle down.

She had tried her hand at having a successful career, but all she had to show for that farce, was five years of hard work, self-denial, a wiped out inheritance, and a lousy banking job that barely paid enough to cover her rent. She still hadn't figured out how she was going to keep her car on the road or buy groceries. And yet, speaking of groceries, she smiled over the fact that if things kept going the way they were going, she'd never have to ever by lunch or dinner ever again. Over the last two days she had had handsome, exciting men lining up to pick up the check. But would that scenario continue?

Men would only continue to buy her meals if they thought there was a potential pot of gold at the end of the dating rainbow. But if she stopped accepting the meals? How would she make ends meet? Her hair, nails and shoe obsession were all high maintenance, and yet, none could be afforded in her super tight budget. She had thought that she would be earning six figures after getting her degree, only now she was mired in the bottom of the money making barrel.

She searched her mind for possible solutions and concluded that if she were going to keep her head above water, then what she should find was a man with a wedding ring to bring her the things she needed. The only thing standing in between her and a walk down the aisle, was falling in love, and she knew herself well. She was a hopeless romantic, and someone who, when leaving herself vulnerable, could fall in love so very easily.

She poured herself another glass of rum. She didn't drink much, yet enjoyed unwinding now and then over a tall glass of rum. She took a well-deserved sip then listened to the fire cackle in the fire place.

Her phone rang. It jolted her mind from her thoughts.

She reached for the phone instinctively. Brian again? Gerald again? She kept stretching for the phone, not wanting it to hit voicemail. But as she saw the number, her fingertips froze. No, not Brian again. And no, not Gerald again.

It was Eric. Her mind ran in a hundred directions. The man of her dreams? Money wise, maybe. Fame wise? Married to the world's top romance novelist, maybe. But money was only good if it made you happy, or more accurately, if it enhanced your happiness. Being trapped in a loveless marriage, no matter how many millions were involved, was a recipe for bitterness, regret, destruction and despair. She wanted to be in love with the man first and his money second, and most importantly of all, she needed for any potential husband to love her for her personality, charm and character first, and her spectacular looks second. And she had to admit to herself that even if she allowed herself to indulge in a whirlwind romance, she was not one to simply say yes to a marriage proposal after a few weeks. A few months? Maybe.

Her fingers remained frozen as the phone announced it was about to enter inter voice mail with the fourth and final ring.

She lunged for it but then thought better of it at the last possible moment, and although her fingers grasped the phone, she never hit talk. The phone stopped ringing.

Eric Holding. He had taken her to dinner yesterday, and shown her his magnificent mansion, also yesterday, and, true to his word, had been the perfect gentleman and brought her home quickly and quietly with her honor still intact.

The rum was starting to kick in, but not quickly enough. She sighed at her own wicked thoughts. A part of her thought that perhaps Brian or Gerald might make a far better match for her, and bring loads of excitement at trying to build a life from the ground up. Yet, Eric already had a fairy tale life all wrapped up and ready to go. Surely he had wannabe wives coming out of his damn ying-yang. And surely he had beautiful oversexed women lining up at his door twenty-four seven. And yet, he wanted Candice. Or did he?

Candice wondered if Eric was phoning not because he thought she'd be a great catch, but because he loved the hunt and he loved the chase. Some men had women dropping at their feet like willing flies. Only Candice had mustered resistance to whatever was on his mind when he was showing her his ready to be renovated bedroom. She hadn't even offered to kiss his lips yesterday when he'd dropped her off, then lingered like some desperate stray puppy dog on her front porch.

She had merely brushed her lips against his handsome stubbly cheek, then said goodnight and closed the door directly opposite his impossibly handsome face.

She now wondered if he looked upon her as a worthy challenge that needed to be conquered, then tossed aside for the next flavor of the month. Or was she even to be relegated to a weekly basis?

Eric, like Brian and Gerald, was not the easiest man to ignore once he started to strut his stuff. She now supposed he'd have dinner with her every night if she so wished. And since he'd already showed off his mansion to her, what was next? His cottage in the Hamptons? Or the mile high apartment worth tens of millions somewhere in the heart of Paris or New York? Would he simply whisk her off on a moment's notice to some far away retreat? And there would she still be able to stick to her game plan of "panties must stay on for the time being?" As things now stood, he had her at a disadvantage. He possessed everything she'd ever wanted. And he was pushing her buttons by being nice to her and wanting to bring her into his already overcrowded life.

She glanced at the coffee table and suddenly noticed the copy of his latest book which he'd given to her for free the day before at the book store. She muttered "damn" under her breath.

The book represented so much more than just a free gift. And it represented so much more than just a great story, and what would probably turn out to be a top notch romance once she'd read it. She hadn't been able to afford to buy the book even though it had meant so much to her career. And yet, Eric had given it to her for free. He was a guy that would undoubtedly give her anything she ever might possibly need.

She now realized that if she should phone him back and keep getting deeper, she might end up always getting whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it, however she ever want it. And all that would also probably come without her ever having to ask for it. Eric seemed to have a six sense about knowing what would please her at any given.

She picked up the damn book then rolled her eyes high at the ceiling. Giving her this book had only been the beginning. She now had to ask herself if she were willing to get sucked into his world by calling him back. Sooner or later, she would end up kissing him. Sooner or later she would end up back in his bedroom, revisiting his explanation of the planned renovations. Only next time she had no illusions that she might not escape unscathed. He was like a well-disciplined lion, the king of the jungle that knew how to bide his time and stalk his prey.

Still, as magical as it all was, it scared her to death. If she were going to take the Eric Holding plunge, then she wanted to end up being the only woman in his life, not merely one of the women he knew.

She reached down and picked up the phone with one hand, keeping his signed book resting on her formidable stiff breasts. She knew if she wasn't careful, that would be exactly where he would eventually end up resting his head, on her formidable stiff breasts. But was that what she wanted?

Her mother had always told her to be careful what she wished for. The thought made her giggle. In fairy tales you always got three wishes. And now she knew of three adorable men that had her firmly in their sights. She cringed. She had three men interested in her but six possible dating choices. First choice, she could date Brian and forget the other two. Second choice, she could date Eric and forget the other two. Third choice, she could date Gerald and forget the other two. Fourth choice, she could date two of the above at the same time, and forget one of them. Fifth choice, she could date all three of the above at the same time and not forget any of them. Sixth choice, she could quit while she was ahead and not date any of them.

Not date any of them? She again pursed her pretty thick lips in anguish at the thought. How to lift up a standard against their affections when they were always trying to contact her and be with her and...and...

"Shit."

Her one word utterance was the direct result of knowing that the stinky brown stuff was about to seriously hit the fan. If she did take a step back to catch her breath and tell all three she wasn't interested in starting any potential relationships at this time, there was no guarantee later on that the three of them, or even one of them, would still be in a position to start dating her once more.

Men tended to move on. Candice knew that whomever she told to politely fuck off now, was unlikely to still date her later on if she should ever change her mind. A guy like Eric was meeting women all the time, signing books and meeting publishers with their grasping secretaries and publicists. A guy like Brian was also meeting women all the time, filing out loan applications and chatting with female clients a dozen at a time. A guy like Gerald, once his eatery was up and running, would be knee deep in gorgeous hungry female diners, sampling his wares each and every lunch hour, each and every day. What if they wanted more than what he was offering on the menu? Men like that didn't stay bachelors forever in the fierce competitive sport of nailing down a forever guy. She could probably have her pick of the bunch right now if she craftily strung them along, but if she told them she wasn't interested? Wouldn't they simply find someone else to keep them warm?

Candice felt her mind swirl in confusion. She was getting horny and desperate just thinking about it. She was twenty-eight. Not exactly old, but not the youngest hot looking babe around either. If she let too much time pass, perhaps she'd one day soon be staring at thirty-eight without a man and wondering what had happened to all her one time suitors. Wrinkles didn't avoid smooth skin forever. And miraculously perfect boobs didn't fight off drooping forever, and...and...

"Shit."

The word just kept coming back. She had to make a choice and she had to do it quickly. She had already determined she had six courses of action. She could see one of the three or two of the three or three of the three, or simply send them all packing. But would she for a certainty meet the man of her dreams again?

The man of her dreams? Was that really what they were? Three great guys who just happened to be dumped on her damn doorstep by some inept but powerful pusher of fate?

She let her fingers pry themselves free from the phone. She was not a woman to spread her legs easily. She had been dating men for a full ten years, ever since age eighteen. And in all that time, despite attracting hundreds of men who showed intense interest, she had only slept with four of them. Four out of a thousand! Quite impressive. But her stinginess at slipping off her panties hadn't stopped interested guys from flocking to her side and trying to cover her life with their daring sexy feathers. Although, her body was getting harder to deny.

She seemed to be getting hornier with age, and she seemed to be longing for more hugs, kisses and stimulating conversation. She adored men, and her wayward spirit, heart and body were sending messages to her deluged mind that the time had come to let off steam and let some hot loving stud percolate her senses and send her lust filled pent up desires to a glorious fulfillment. A part of her wanted a man in her life so bad that she was almost ready to come apart at the seams.

She glanced down at the book resting on her swollen nipples. Just thinking about her predicament was enough to make her damn toes curl. Why did she feel it so necessary to keep her long sexy legs closed at every opportunity? She wasn't a slut, and yet most women wouldn't let her within a mile of their man. Instinctively she knew that was why it had been so hard for her to find a job. Men were bosses but it was women that usually were in human resources.

A female was not going to hire Candice if she was far too hot to have lurking around a man filled office. Guys were notorious for letting their tongues hang out and rarely getting any work done when a smoking hot babe was distracting them. And women that were a cross between the world's top supermodel and the world's most beautiful porn star, never got hired by other jealous women.

If women were not going to give her a break, then it followed that she was going to have to turn to a man. But which one?

She let her fingers flip through the pages of the thick tempting book, then paused to take the final swig of rum from her glass.

She was beginning to feel all warm and toasty, and not just from the fire. Eric Holding was, in reality, Mary Tolston, her favorite romance author. And Candice had heard from a friend that the book contained some really sizzling and raunchy sex scenes. They were scenes that would make any self-respecting erotica loving reader curl her toes to the point of breaking.

She began to read a sex scene from the book. She supposed that such a scene, the product of Eric's imagination, would probably be an accurate indication of the kind of lover that Eric really was.

She took her time, enjoying each word as though it were a fine meal. She was pleasantly surprised that the story chronicled the white male character's first experience with a black woman. Candice felt her heart begin to thump.

She seemed to recall him mention at yesterday's dinner how he had never had a black girlfriend before. With that fact in mind, she began reading more intently. Since the book was outlining the hero's first time kissing a black heroine, she tried to imagine herself in that role, as the first black lover in a white lover's arms.

She read the words carefully and slowly. "His fingertips rolled across her enraptured skin...and his handsome mouth brushed teasingly off her slender neck, rising past her chin until it pressed against her shimmering lips like they were wedges of Belgium chocolate...his warm saliva, like sticky honey against her quivering nipples...his white fingertips, trembling joyously as they moved along the gauntlet of her hour glass figure...his equally white cock, blazing with heat as her black fingers encircled it greedily..."

The thought suddenly crossed Candice's mind to reach down and touch herself in that most sacred spot. She was either going to have use her damn finger or close the damn book. She closed the book and tossed it onto the coffee table. There was no sense getting herself all worked up if nothing that night was going to end up happening. She kept her finger on the edge of the couch, away from harm's way.

She then took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. She had only known Eric for a paltry two days. No way was she going to contemplate picking up that phone and asking him to come over. That being said, getting herself turned on was a dangerous thing to do. After all, when a woman did indeed get herself all hot and bothered, then she was going to have to do what a woman had to do.

Candice fought the urge to start reading the book a second time. No sense playing with fire, especially when she was hell bent at keeping her finger at bay, and hadn't been in a naked man's arms for over six long years. All that pent up lust was going to push her over the edge if she wasn't careful.

Her phone rang again.

She glanced at it with trepidation. If it was Eric again, then in her half drunken and lust filled state, there was just no way she was going to be able to resist asking him over.

Her heart sank as she saw the number. It was indeed Eric. She had obviously made a lasting impression on the millionaire's heart, and he now couldn't seem to get her off his mind. Dare she answer it?

She turned her back to the ringing phone and mustered enough dwindling willpower to march herself upstairs to her bathroom. It was there, after all, that she kept her cold showers.

XXX

The rain was brutal and unforgiving, drumming off her umbrella as she reached her car and pressed the remote until her lights came on. She hoped she'd be able to slip into her car without getting her hair wet. Getting it wet would mean putting on a horror show with insidiously frizzy hair all day long. She didn't like looking less than perfect if she could help it, especially since she'd been the sole object of three gazes from wonderfully handsome men the last two days. But today was number three in her triple adventure, and she was smart enough to know that the adoration and admiration showered upon her by all three men could easily disappear at any time. Men, just like women, wanted commitment. They were all for lavishing unending attention upon the female of choice as long as it was heading somewhere. But Candice had been very non-committal where laying the foundation for any future relationships were concerned. For now, she determined that the best course of action would simply be to string all three men along until she could figure out what the heck to do.

The drive into work was fraught with honking horns, slippery roads, and testy drivers who were already agitated over pesky blockages from numerous accidents.

She accelerated the windshield wipers to high, watching as they whipped back and forth with lightning speed.

The downfall was now torrential, and the sound was like machine guns peppering her car from above. Visibility was nearly zero and she slowed down.

The driver behind her reacted as best he could, slamming on his brakes and coming to within a quarter inch of tapping her bumper.