by Katy Kaylee
Ouch. Not a question. Not even a full sentence. But nevertheless, I sat in one of the seats in front of his desk.
Well, it was very obvious that my head was about to be served to me on a platter, but I could at least try to let him know that I hadn’t meant to expose him like that. It was too late to save me, of course, but I just wanted him to know that he could trust someone, even if they weren’t me.
“Look, I’m sorry I-”
“Why?”
His voice was a low growl as he interrupted me, and I just blinked at him in surprise for a moment.
“What?”
“Why did you do what you did?”
“I was angry.”
He continued to stare at me and I knew that he was expecting more than a cursory answer. That he could see right through my cover of rage and wanted something real.
Dammit.
I had been planning on just apologizing. Admitting I was wrong and that I wasn’t thinking. That I had been blinded by anger. But I hadn’t counted on having to say why I was angry. Or why his rejection of me had burned so hotly.
“I have a kind of bad temper.” I admitted, not wanting to say anything else. Couldn’t I just have my graceful exit? One where I said sorry, asked for forgiveness and walked out of the doors knowing I had ruined everything?
“So that was why you burst into the theater event? Because you were mad, and you wanted to hurt me?”
“Yes,” I said flatly, willing for him to see me as the villain if he just stopped looking at me like he was seeing through to my soul. But I always was a shit liar. “No. I mean, yes I was angry and I wanted to force you to talk to me, to see me, but I didn’t want to…”
“Leak my private life to everyone nearby?”
“Yes,” I answered, cheeks burning. “That. And I’m sorry. I really am. I never, never wanted to betray your trust like that. I was just… hurting so badly and I guessed I thought if I made you acknowledge me that maybe it wouldn’t ache so badly that you were able to drop me without so much as a goodbye.”
Oh.
I had said too much. I looked at him with big eyes, the situation having not gone any of the ways that I had planned.
“I hurt you.” Was it a question? A statement? I didn’t know. But the feelings and the words were rolling up in earnest and I couldn’t stop them.
“Of course, you hurt me! I was stupid and got feelings for you like some dumb virgin and I let myself get a little crazy. And I’m sorry. I was stupid. I’m sorry for violating the NDA, I just… I thought at least we were friends, and I thought I would be okay with that. I realize now that I was wrong, sorry if it’s too little too late.”
“What kind of feelings?”
How could he stare at me so calmly? His face an impervious mask that looked like he was just talking mergers instead of my broken heart. I admired it the same that I hated it. When had I gotten so sentimental? When had I let this man into my heart that I usually prided myself on keeping so guarded? I couldn’t put my finger on it exactly, but I found myself wishing that I had resisted all of his charm.
But for some reason, I kept answering. “You know, world inverting, amazing feeling. The type of feelings that make you smile when you first put your feet to the floor after waking up. The kinds that make you feel warm and happy and content. The type of feelings that I always thought were utter bullshit, but whenever I look at you, I realize how unerringly wrong I was.
“Feelings, feelings, Fitz. And I know it’s stupid and moronic, but that’s just where I am.”
I couldn’t say exactly what I was expecting. Maybe for him to tell me I was pathetic. Maybe to kick me out. But nowhere on my list was him slowly grinning at me while reaching into his desk.
I stared, wide eyed and confused as he pulled out a familiar contract. Without a word, he ripped it apart in front of me, paper flying everywhere.
“Wha…?” I murmured, completely at a loss.
“This contract is for casual sex and friends with benefits. At first I thought that it was what we needed but now I realize that it’s not appropriate for our relationship-” Wait. He ripped it up. Did that mean he was still firing me but leaving me off the hook legally? Why was he smiling? Something wasn’t adding up. “Since I’m pretty sure I’d like to date you.”
…
I stared at him for several very long moments, barely remembering to breathe. “You… what?”
“I have feelings for you as well. I tried ignoring them, I tried cutting you out, and I was wrong for that. If you don’t forgive me, I understand.”
“But to me it seems like both you and I made assumptions to protect ourselves that turned out to be very wrong. So, if you’d have me, I’d like to give a real relationship a try,” he continued.
“Just like that?” I breathed. How could he go from ignoring me on Friday to asking me out on a Monday?
He smiled wanly. “When you ran out of the theater it gave me a lot of time to think. Several people made comments, most crass and degrading towards you. That made me angry, and I found myself protecting you from their assumptions.
“That was about when I realized that the way I had treated you probably made you assume the same things, and that plagued me pretty much the entire weekend.”
I swallowed, the feeling in the air so intense between us it felt like I was listening to a confessional.
“You seemed so hurt, far too hurt for you to have just been using me for sex, which made me wonder just how much of an idiot I was for shutting you out these past two weeks. Could it mean you possibly felt about me how I felt about you? Or had I already ruined all of it?
“I had a whole lot of questions and almost no answers, so I figured I would just ask you exactly why you had done what you’d done.”
“Oh,” I murmured. “So, I guess it wasn’t just like that.”
“No, not at all. Over forty-eight hours of introspection telling me what an idiot I was.” He stood and crossed around to the front of the desk, smiling uncertainly at me. “So, what do you think? Want to give me a second chance?”
I looked up at him, heart surging and my brain trying to catch up with everything that was happening. He had feelings for me? Soft, squishy, stupid and impractical feelings? I didn’t know what to think. I wasn’t even sure I remembered how to breathe. But still, I turned my face up to him and tried to respond.
“I want you to kiss me.”
“I can do that.”
And then he was pulling me up into his lap, my knees posted on the desk on either side of his hips. His mouth crashed against mine, greedy and demanding and everything that I had missed. I gave myself over to him, wanting to lead me as he so expertly did.
His hands were everywhere, kneading, burning into my flesh. I loved it and I ground into his erection that I could already feel tenting through his pants.
“Sweetheart,” he panted into my ear. “Baby girl, I’m going to take you right here and now.”
“Please,” I gasped, clinging to him. It was what I always said, but I meant it with everything I had within me.
He stood suddenly, and I let out a squeak, clinging to him as he quickly spun us around, so it was my ass on the desk, and then he was pushing everything off it to make room for me.
It was a ton of noise and I cringed for a split second at the sound of so many expensive things hitting the ground, but I quickly forgot it as Fitz yanked my skirt down, throwing it to the side.
His lips joined mine again, bruising, demanding, but it still wasn’t enough. I wanted him so much. Right down to my core. I didn’t think that it was possible to desire something so much, but I needed his touch like it was oxygen.
One day I would let him take his time with me, let him be tender and caress me at his leisure. But I couldn’t this time. I craved fire and heat. All the precious little marks that he had left on me were completely gone and I missed them terribly so.
His hands were busy as our mouths moved against each other, two of his fin
gers thrusting into me suddenly. Maybe I should have been embarrassed that I was already so wet that there was only a faint pinch at the intrusion, but I wasn’t. I could never be embarrassed when Fitz was worshiping at my center like it was some sort of altar.
“Moan for me,” Fitz ordered in that way that made my walls clench down on him. He crooked his fingers at the same time, touching that strange shelf-like ridge within me, and I almost fell apart right then and there. “Let me know how much you need me.”
“Please…Please Daddy,” I begged again, trying to pull him closer to me even though he was right on top of me. Would I ever be satisfied, or was I going to always crave him like a missing half of my person?
I didn’t know, and the question quickly fled my mind as my first orgasm started to roll towards me. It was harried and jagged, much like our love making, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Fitz leaned back slightly, just enough to put his free hand on my lower belly, pressing down firmly. Like most things, I didn’t understand it at first until he crooked his fingers again and the sensation of it was amplified tenfold.
I let out a wail and he swallowed it hungrily, both of his hands roughly pushing me over my edge. And it was as I was coming that I realized that I was made for Fitz in a way many women weren’t.
With so many slender beauties and ephemeral waifs, he’d probably had to hold back his whole life. Keep his strength in check and make sure that he didn’t ever hurt them. But I was solid and soft. I was stronger than them, bigger, and able to absorb what would have hurt them and turn it into pleasure. I was made to ruin men like Fitz, and the idea was utterly intoxicating.
“Sir…I need you in me,” I gasped as his fingers continued to stoke at my fluttering walls, as if he was trying to drive me straight from one orgasm to another.
“Sweetheart, I am in you,” he replied with a sinful grin.
“You know what I mean.”
He chuckled darkly then I hear his zipper sliding and then he was in me and everything was good.
I clung to him, whining and moaning and not caring if anyone heard us outside of his office. He thrust into me without holding back, making me feel just how much he had missed me. How stupid he felt for ever ignoring me.
“You’re perfect,” Fitz gasped, as if he had heard my thoughts. “You’re fucking perfect, baby girl.”
His words raised a thrill in me and I felt myself tilting towards my orgasm again.
“Only for you,” I panted. “Only ever for you.”
He let out a shaking groan as if I had burned him, and then his hands shoved between us again, one of them going to that button at my apex and the other snaking up my shirt to tease at my nipples. I knew what he was doing, trying to drag enough pleasure out of me to have me climaxing around him again, and how could I say no to that?
I let my head tilt back, sliding up and down the smooth surface of the desk as he pounded into me. I took it all, reaching behind me to hold onto the edge of the desk as I arched up into him. That subtle shift changed the angle that he was within me and the next thing I knew I was keening out another release.
Fitz followed me soon after, cursing and clutching at me like I was his final tether to Earth. And I guessed in a way I was. We’d both been so aloof, detached our own life after seeing how easily people could use or abuse other. But as he slumped over me, breathing hard and kissing praises into my skin, I felt more anchored than I had ever been.
It was a good feeling, and I had a hunch that it might actually stick around.
Fitz
I leaned back in the chair that I had stolen from one of the nearby desks, stretching my shoulders out. I could still hear Bev making copies in the next room, dutifully burning the midnight oil for the launch of our brand new, fourth channel.
It’d been three months since that fateful meeting in my office. When we both finally got our heads out of our asses and admitted we had feelings for each other. And, to be honest, it was better than I could have ever imagined.
Sure, we had our hiccups. Bev and I were learning about each other and still getting used to this whole relationship thing. There were occasionally things I assumed she knew that she had no idea of, and I sometimes forgot that some of my bachelor habits weren’t acceptable. But we always talked through it. We never assumed the worst of each other and we heard each other out.
It was pretty damn amazing.
I looked to the clock. All of our teams had been working overtime to make sure we hit our launch date with everything absolutely perfect, but I had finally sent them home three hours previously. It was almost past one in the morning, and I knew Bev had to be absolutely exhausted.
I stood, my muscles protesting as I did, and went into the copy room. Sure enough, Bev was standing determinedly in front of the machine, one hand holding a black coffee and the other grabbing the papers as soon as they were out and sorting them into one of a dozen different piles.
“Hey beautiful,” I said, leaning against the doorway.
She looked up at me wearily, but still just as gorgeous as ever. How an old, spoiled man like myself had ever gotten someone like her was beyond me. But I was past the point of questioning fate and decidedly on the path of appreciating the woman it had dumped in my lap.
Mmm, she would look pretty good in my lap, actually. Considering all the rush work we had been doing for the launch, she and I hadn’t had time for any extracurricular activities in a couple of weeks. That was practically a sin in and of itself.
“You look tired,” I said, walking towards her.
“I thought you just said I was beautiful.”
Ever my snarky intern. I didn’t think I would ever get tired of that. “You can be both.”
“Hmm, good to know.”
I crowded up behind her, wrapping my arms around her soft waist and bending so I could press my lips against her neck. She stiffened, just like she always did. Even after all these months together, she was still just as responsive. I loved that about her.
I loved her.
“Why don’t you come home and sleep?”
She let out a tiny little groan and shifted, as if she was trying to focus on the copies and block me out. Well that wouldn’t do at all.
“Your place isn’t home. My apartment is home and I’d rather keep working than gather up the energy to navigate across the city.”
It was as if life was trying to make openings for me and before I knew it, I was talking. “It could be your home, if you wanted.”
At that she stiffened again, and when she spoke her voice was so quiet that I could barely hear it. “Are… are you asking me to move in?”
“Yes,” I breathed into the soft skin of her neck. I would be lying if I didn’t say it was half because I was afraid of seeing her face if she said no. The other half was because the warm, tropical scent of her pomegranate body wash and shampoo was quite a comfort to me. If I was smelling that, then it meant I was close to her, and if I was close to her, life couldn’t be that bad, could it?
“Holy shit,” she breathed, trying to turn into me but I wouldn’t let her, holding her firm. I loved her ass pressed against me, each of her movements waking my length up from its exhausted respite. “Yes, yes! Now let me hug you!”
“Mmm, I think I like you just like this,” I muttered, sliding my hands down her frame as my heart soared. She said yes!
She said yes!
I hadn’t lived with a single soul since I was seventeen year old and now I was pretty sure the love of my life had just agreed to move in.
Her groan interrupted my high-flying and I couldn’t help but grin. Flipping her skirt up, I pulled her panties down with a practiced ease. I managed to catch a glimpse as they hit the ground and I saw that the middle was soaked with her telltale arousal.
“Ready for me that fast?” I breathed into the back of her ear.
She shivered against me and it was hard not to preen. “I guess, maybe, I’ve been getting through the day about t
hinking what we’ll do to make up for lost time after the launch.”
“That’s my naughty girl,” I practically purred into her before freeing myself from my pants.
Normally I liked to get her warmed up. To have her come on my hands or my mouth or something before I took her. But she was already whining and pressing against me urgently and I feared we would both fall asleep before I could get inside of her if I teased her as I normally did.
I slid in quickly, reveling in her hiss as I filled her. Even after all this time, she was still just as tight. Just as warm. I didn’t think that I could ever grow tired of it. It would be blasphemy.
“Move, please,” she panted below me, desperate as if I had been teasing her as usual. “I’ve been waiting for this for days.”
That confession made me hotter than she could ever know. The thought that she had been craving yet denying herself my touch, that she yearned for it just as much as I did was maddening. It made me want to chuck my brain out a window and rut into her like there was no tomorrow.
Ugh, she was far too dressed. Even with me inside of her, I needed to see more of her. Feel more of her.
I pulled her back far enough from the copier that I would pull her stylish little knit shirt up and over her head. She ground back into me as I did, giggling slightly. We’d learned to slow down a bit in our three months together. To cherish, to savor, but it was still to easy to slip into our ravenous eagerness for each other.
“Touch me,” Bev moaned, reaching back for my hands once her shirt was gone. But I kept them out of her grip as I worked on her bra. It was one of her sturdier ones, with a solid six hook and eyes in the back. Always challenging me, my little assistant.
Finally, I had it off and tossed to the side and that was when a wicked idea came to me. A wonderful, silly, wicked idea.
Reaching past her, I lifted the lid of the copying machine. Normally that would cause it to stop its job, but I held my palm against the start button for ten seconds and that overrode that precaution, so it kept right on doing what it was doing even with the lid up.
