Postal Annoyance

Okay, so this is different from my first attempt at writing due to some interesting feedback about sticking to writing from a female perspective.

Fingers crossed that this is a bit better.

"We apologise for any inconvenience that you've suffered, but I'm afraid there's nothing we can do to help you with your issue." The blue rinsed woman informed me as I rallied against my dismay at my missing parcel. Birthday presents for nine year old nieces only tend to be appreciated when they're received at the actual birthday parties after all.

"I'm afraid that due to the bad weather priority parcels are being sent first and then the back log will be dealt with."

The parting shot meant to placate me; only angered me further, causing the hot temper I was known for to rise to the surface,

"So who do I have to fuck around here to get my god damn parcels on time?" I said a little bit more loudly than intended. The shocked face behind the post office counter looked back at me, the use of the word 'fuck' in the quaint little village enough to change her expression for a split second.

"That would be me." A deep, faintly amused voice answered.

Fucking brilliant. Just what I needed; some ridiculous post man with bad timing laughing at me. I turned to deliver a withering reply, my hands moving to my hips; inadvertently balling into fists when I first looked at the cause of my latest annoyance.

Typical, it was just my luck that he was hot. Since when the hell were there hot post men anyway! I'd managed to go the 26 years that was my lifetime dealing with odd doddery old men and faintly butch females handing over my letters and now this.

Whoever said "life isn't fair" was completely right. Unfortunately.

So, due to my temporary speechlessness caused by the Greek god look-a-like armed with a satchel, I blushed like a fucking school girl instead of coming out with a witty reply. Mr. Perfect smiled at me then. The bastard. He was enjoying my response, was probably used to it. Wandering around in those ridiculous shorts giving bored housewives a cheap thrill must have swollen his ego to mammoth proportions.

Annoyed by the thought of this, and disregarding the fact that 'grandmother time' as I'd taken to mentally calling her, on the counter was listening in, with now what could only be delighted glee, I gave Mr. Perfect a blatantly sexual once over before coolly saying "Well just bend me over the counter and then go and get my fucking parcel."

He grinned. God, I hated him at that moment. He was meant to be annoyed by my response, not fucking grinning at me as though he knew that in reality that was exactly what I wanted him to do.

Where was I when alpha male types began liking women that talked back? I don't remember getting that memo. And, even though at that moment him bending me over the counter and delivering on the sexual promise that was in his eyes was exactly what I wanted him to do, I was still too angry to appreciate the funny side of the situation.

"Well, as tempting as your proposal is, I'm afraid not even you," his eyes glittered with sexual approval as he took in my appearance, "will be getting your parcel today."

Damn. It seemed that resigning oneself to defeat at this point was the only option. I sighed before tightening my mouth into a grim smile, sweeping my gaze over the two of them before saying, in a sarcastic voice "Well thank you ever so much for all of your help" and making a speedy exit.

The cold air hit me in the face as soon as I was outside. I was pleased. Hopefully that would mean that the last of my blush would be completely erased. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

"Are you referring to me, or yourself...?" Fucking hell, the amused voice was back and apparently I had been speaking out loud. The day could not get any worse.

I gave myself a moment, not looking at him until after offering the middle ground response "Both, I think."

I glanced over my shoulder as I heard him laugh softly, more just to check that he was as gorgeous as my memory was telling me. He grinned at me again, and this time it was a full blown knowing grin.

"Hey, just because I couldn't help you in there, doesn't mean I can't help you with something else..." he offered.

I watched as he began to walk towards me, clearly at ease, knowing that I wanted him.

The mere seconds it took for him to reach me felt like years, my body relaxing from its sudden tension when I felt strong hands move to my shoulders drawing me back towards him.

What the fuck was he doing? We were in the middle of the street for crying out loud.

And why didn't I care?

His hands moved from my shoulders, skimming down my arms, one moving against my stomach to pull me back against him completely. His rapidly hardening cock touched the small of my back, as he drew me closer, making excitement race through my body like a greyhound at a race track.

The day might not have been able to get any worse, but suddenly I was quite pleased by the idea that it might be about to get a whole hell of a lot better...