When she opens the door, her eyes widen, and she pauses before moving again. It is a common occurrence I experience. My height, at six-foot-four coupled with a build honed by years of weight training and working out with a trainer, impresses most people. I do not do it to impress. I do it because Victoria found out my doctor told me I was a heart attack waiting to happen.

At the time I disregarded his warnings, then Victoria came across the follow-up notes and suggestions. My life was an open book to her since her third year with me. One day I walked into my office to find a dietician, and a trainer waiting for me. Victoria told me if I did not make use of them, she would quit. I called her bluff. She walked out the door. Three days later I gave in when her first replacement cried every time I raised my voice in the slightest and the second woman included nude photos of herself in a report I asked for.

I am aware my features combine into something people deem attractive. I do not see it, I think my nose is too big and brow too heavy. I also have a half inch scar on my cheek and an inch-long scar on my chin, both gifts from Agatha’s ring worn when she struck me. Alexandra’s appeal goes up a notch when she blinks, and there is not a hint of attraction in them.

I wish I could say the same. The picture in her file did not come close to the Alexandra Clark in front of me. Her hair is not nearly as mousy brown as it looked in the picture. Long and straight and cascading down her shoulders it is dark, rich mahogany with natural red and gold highlights. Alexa’s eyes are not merely blue they are a brilliant deep sapphire. She is not wearing any makeup, with her light olive skin tone and clear complexion she does not need it.

She has a heart-shaped face with round high cheekbones, a small pert nose, over a wide soft mouth that has me wondering what her lips will look like around my cock, and—what the fuck was that? No, not happening is what I’m thinking even as my cock stirs.

Alexa’s body is lush, soft, ripe, and incredibly sensuous. Even though she is shorter than the six-foot-plus models I usually fuck, she is still taller than average, somewhere around five nine. Nothing about her has ever appealed to me before. So why the fuck am I staring at her legs beneath her prim skirt, thinking as good as they look they will look better wrapped around my waist?