by M R Field
The door stops behind us, and I whisper-yell, “Abort ship! We’re screwed.”
“We?” Nige whisper-screams back, pointing at his chest. “You’re the one who wanted to dance on the dark side.”
“I thought those pens would be better, but maybe Majungasaurus needs it to keep him normal.”
“Majungasaurus, eh?” Theo pipes up, surprising me as he walks over to us from the closing doors of the elevator. “A dinosaur lover, are we?”
“Shut up,” I shriek, and I freeze for a moment, worried that I’ve alerted Cole to my outburst. My voice rises only slightly as the papers rest against my chest. “Don’t judge me. I was looking up aggressive dinosaurs once, and that seemed fitting at this moment. Cole just saw the pens.”
I look back in the office to find Cole still twirling the pen in his hand as he gazes out the window, smiling. Probably plotting my demise.
“So, it’s Judgement Day?” Theo jokes. “Is it safe to go back in there?”
“Well, it looks like he’s smiling, so let’s grab something to eat while he’s in a chirpy mood and doesn’t contemplate us for his next meal,” Brad adds, tilting his head toward me. “We should be safe though, ’cause we’re not the ones who ordered those pens.”
He winks at me as he keeps teasing, “Have fun trying to explain that mix-up. Especially as they’re an entirely new brand. Wouldn’t be surprised if you knew the original codes by heart.”
I groan at his point. I am so screwed for being so efficient. Theo, the traitor, walks back with the guys to the elevator.
“Bring me back a coffee. I’m going to need a double shot to help keep me alive.” I frown before reaching into the pocket of my skirt to retrieve the storage room key. “See you guys later, if I’m still breathing.”
I stumble into the storage room and head over to the copier, but as I reach it, the door doesn’t close behind me.
I turn and jump in surprise, finding Cole standing in the doorway, pen poised in one hand. He taps the side of the doorway and steps into the room, a document in his other hand, leaving the door to close and lock us in.
Oh shit, he is firing me! Over a pen? What a knob jockey! So much for Cole being civil. That was short-lived.
Before I can begin defending myself, he holds up the document for me to see.
“I saw Mum on the weekend, and she was wondering if you were interested? It’s for her birthday.”
I blink in surprise and a bit of relief as he steps forward with the sheet held out.
My hand rests against the copier, centring me as I look up at him. I reach out to collect the sheet as his fingers from his free hand move up to scratch his chin. The sheet is forgotten for a moment as my eyes would rather focus on the scruff on his face. I shake my head to snap out of my daze to look down, noticing that it’s an invitation to Judy’s sixtieth, with a special tribute of being a fundraiser for the Heart Foundation.
“Oh, Cole.” My voice aches. “What a lovely thing for your mum to do,” I clutch the invite tightly in my fingers.
“Yeah.” He nods, a gentle smile appearing across his lips. “She was probably too afraid of the bath stuff she’d get from the golf club wives if she had a normal party.”
“Not a fan of the matching towels, face washers, robes, bath mats…” I smile as he nods, grinning back, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Hello there, little crinkles. Looks like a few years since you’ve been used. I imagine specks of dust puffing out from his cheeks.
“She’s looking for a few donations, if you’re interested? She’d like some artwork for people to bid on. She’d pay for the materials to paint them, too.”
“No way.” I shake my head but stop abruptly, seeing his face tense.
“You don’t want to help?” He frowns, his voice, low and sullen.
I jolt, quickly lifting the invite to my chest, tapping it lightly. “Not what I meant, sorry. I mean, I’d love to donate, and I’ll cover it. How many does she want?”
His shoulders relax as he grabs the invite back from me. “Two or three. Whatever you want to paint—the choice is yours.”
“Fantastic!” I clap stupidly, causing the papers in my other hand to flutter between us. Luckily enough, they are at least still between my fingers. “I’ll just get these done.”
“What happened with these?” He shakes the pen in his hand.
“Um, just thought to try out something new. The guy in the store said they were really ergonomic.” I lie, not looking at him. I move my free hand in front of my body, like a ridiculous jazz hand soldier. “Perfect for the guy on the go!”
“Fair enough,” he says, and my eyes snap to his in shock. He is not pissed at all. Wow.
“Those the Cameron files?” He interrupts my thoughts as I clumsily turn the pages to face me and nod, feigning agreement, as I just grabbed the first thing I saw. “If you wouldn’t mind making it a booklet, I can give them to his team later this afternoon.”
I cringe slightly and then put on a fake smile. I hate this copier machine. “Sure.” I turn to put the papers in the top tray. “I’ll have that done for you in no time,”
Or an hour, as this machine is demonic and likes to jam or forget to staple when I use it. I swear, it senses it’s me using it and flips its shit.
“What’s wrong, Letty?”
My breath hitches at my name. “Uh … er,” I stammer. “The stupid photocopier hates me. It will screw up the booklet, guaranteed, if I do it. It’ll take ages, but I’ll eventually get them out.”
“Put in all the settings. Try to do six copies for the meeting. I’ll help.”
“How’s your hip?” I cringe at the inane filler while I press the buttons I need.
“All healed.” He moves closer to me as I double check that the settings are in order.
“That’s great. Now, watch this machine turn into an alien.” I press the button on the machine and the sheets start feeding through.
“You smell like flowers.” Cole’s voice sounds strange, almost strained.
“That’s because I use soap that is made from daisies. From a shop that your mum goes to, and she then gives it to my mum to pass on.”
“I like the smell. You smelt fruity in the elevator.”
My heart flutters, and the vibe in the room changes. He shifts behind me and my pulse begins to accelerate. I flinch a little as he places his head against my neck.
“I also like how you tried to bullshit me about those pens.”
I stiffen for a moment until soft whiskers linger just on my skin as I flutter with nervous energy, willing them to touch me.
“Not sure what you’re talking about,” I whisper, moving even closer to him.
“The old ones were useful for certain purposes. Now I’ll just have to find a substitute.”
“For what?” I wait for his next move.
“I’ll let you know once the assessment is done.”
Why do I feel that he’s no longer talking about the pen?
My back rests against his hard chest, and the warmth from his body turns my legs to liquid. I brace myself on the photocopier to keep standing and tilt my head to give him better access for his mouth to end this torment.
A low growl leaves his lips as his cheek runs from behind my ear causing a ripple of goose bumps to tickle along my skin. His breath caresses my ear and I shiver, wanting to feel his lips there. His stubble tickles me in the most delicious way.
As though he’s heard my thoughts, his lips open, tracing the curve of my ear and my pulse accelerates. My fingers curl around the edges of the machine as I’m driven insane by the tickle of his goatee. The faint lights for the copier moving back and forth don’t distract me as the most sensual moment of my life is taking place.
His hand moves from the edge of the copier to my left hip, holding my body. My thighs press together as his lips travel behind my ear, whispering kisses across my heated skin.
He pushes into my behind, and I feel him hard and thick against me. A deep thro
bbing between my legs is felt and I push back into his crotch. His breathing changes and my fingers tighten, threatening to crack the cover of the copier.
His exhale intensifies against my skin as he audibly growls, thunderous in the quiet room, my mouth opening to pant wantonly, loving the scrape of his chin on my neck. I crave more of him.
He buries his face into the crook of my neck and moves his other hand to my hip, caging me in as he begins to kiss along my skin, his tongue darting out to taste me. I tilt my head toward the ceiling as my panting increases, my chest rising with each kiss, wanting more of this delicious moment. Holy shit, he’s only at my neck, and I’m throbbing so intensely that I might combust against the machine.
“Cole,” I beg, swallowing the gasp that ripples past my lips.
“Letty.” His voice deepens against me, and I shiver. I turn my head towards him, my cheek pushing against his, causing him to straighten and look down at me. We stare at each other for an instant, and before the moment is broken, I run my tongue along my parched lips. I watch his eyes darken. His hands grip into my hips as he steps back to turn me sharply until I’m facing him.
“I know why you got rid of those pens.” His gaze is dark and challenging.
“The clicking drove me crazy,” I admit, lifting my chin in defiance.
“I know.” He leans closer, so close. “I clicked every time I had a dirty thought about you.”
“That was a lot,” I stupidly blurt, the butterflies bursting through my stomach.
“You have no fucking idea.” His voice lowers. “It was either click it, or act on it.”
“And now?” I challenge.
A slow smile glides across his lips. “I have no pen to stop me.”
We both stand there like two stunned fools, but it’s too late to back down, I removed his substitute. Game on. I stare right back at him, my voice firm as I tell him, “I dare you.”
The words have barely left my lips before his warm hands caress the side of my face and his lips crash against mine.
My hands rise to his bent forearms, holding on tight as his tongue delves into my mouth, caressing mine and sending a surge of heat between my thighs. I am an electric current, waiting for him to flick the switch. I step as close to him as possible, wanting his body flush with mine. I want every fibre of him connected to me.
My mouth duels with his, our tongues tasting, devouring, and conquering. Soft noises
leave our lips, the graze of his goatee sending me into a lustful frenzy. I’m desperate for him.
I’m eager for the simmer to build between us as the taste of him consumes me. He is an addictive elixir. This feeling, almost foreign to me, ignites me from within. Parts of my chest and stomach heat. I’ve never felt like this before with any of my previous relationships. Is this even my own body? Oh, fuck. It certainly is.
His right hand shifts to the back of my head, weaving amongst my curls, each finger claiming one, pulling slightly, causing me to moan deeply into his mouth as his other hand moves behind my body, caging me in. His physique is solid against my soft figure.
We could not get any closer if we tried.
He could not taste any better if he tried.
There’s no other place I’d rather be.
Kissing him is a kaleidoscope. A burst of colour, where nothing shines brighter. We kiss until my lips burn, but I want more. I am in ecstasy, in a euphoric wonderland, where my heart beats for its new sole purpose—beyond keeping me alive.
The constant longing I felt as a teenager resurfaces, and I hold onto it and set my heart free to feel what I’ve always wanted. I hope this never stops.
We are in a deadlock, his pelvis pushing into mine, and I welcome it with a sigh into his lips.
Touch me, my mouth begs. Put your hands on my skin, my breathing begs, and I swear he understands as he squeezes my back before suddenly, the warmth from his body is torn away, and the rattling of the storage door grabs my attention.
“Shit, forgot my key,” Brad mumbles as I lean against the machine, my chest aching with the intensity of each breath it struggles to catch. Who would’ve thought a kiss marathon could do that?
My fingers touch my lips. They feel swollen. I’m in shock. I shake my head to gain focus to find Cole … on the other side of the room, facing me. He stares at me for a moment, his chest rising rapidly, his eyes dark with a desire I know is mirrored in my own.
I absolutely would’ve let him take me on that copier. Every which way from Sunday and then some. But what now? Will he walk away?
I lick my swollen lower lip and his tongue flicks his lip in response, his hands drumming against the side of his legs, his eyes running up and down my body.
He marches back toward me, but he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he raises his thumb and rubs the edge of my mouth, and my face leans into his touch, my lips opening to let my tongue quickly taste him. He breathes deeply as he continues to brush away at my skin.
“I’ve made a mess of your lipstick.” He smiles, his eyes focussed on my lips, and I blink out of my daze. I want to taste him everywhere. I look at his mouth, covered in my pink lipstick, and smile. A job well done.
I reach up use my thumb to rub across his lips, taking with it the remains of our kiss. With each stroke, my body is both enthralled and pained. I want him to wear evidence of our kiss and be reminded of it, but now isn’t the time. Does he want to forget it by rubbing it away?
“How are you getting to the Palladium tomorrow night?” His hand shifts to my cheek to stroke his knuckles against it before moving to the back of my head to pat down the cyclone of curls that is going on back there.
My cheek feels cold without his hand, I blink slowly as his hand continues to tidy my unruly curls.
“I was going to get Piper to drop me off there and then taxi home.”
His fingers shift to my cheek to stroke it tenderly once again. “I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”
“Oh, okay.” My thoughts are a myriad of lust, confusion, and more … lust.
“I don’t think I’ll need those pens anymore.” He leans forward and runs his cheek near my ear, his goatee brushing against my skin, and my toes curl within my heels. A soft kiss is placed under my ear, and I have to bite my lip to stop from groaning out loud or having an orgasm. Hot damn.
“You go first.” He straightens and waves his hand down his body to his groin as he says, “I have to think of the last ten years’ worth of Tour de France winners.”
I burst out laughing, lose my footing slightly, and stumble into the photocopier, prompting me to remember the booklets that … worked.
“You have the magic touch,” I say, holding up the booklets.
He opens the door for me to pass through, and as I do, I hear a faint groan. I shake my head, pretending he’s ridiculous, disguising a tremor passing over my spine. After a kiss like that, I don’t doubt it.
I enter the office to the boys chatting at their desks, and a wave of nerves overwhelms me. I can’t make sense of what will happen next, and I can’t let them catch on.
Cole enters after me and heads straight to his desk, and I realise that I’m standing near the door, standing out like a sore thumb. I blink to shake some sense into me.
Making my way to my desk, I grab my cooler bag and begin unwrapping my sandwich as I sit down. Taking a bite, I look over my lunch to the team, and not one of them has noticed me or let on that they know something is going on. At least they left a coffee for me.
All while Cole stares at his computer screen non-fazed, rubbing his chin. Crap. Now I know what that feels like on my skin. Rubbing my legs together, I want it in other places.
My ex didn’t make me this hot, ever. I’m afraid if Cole and I ever take things further, I wouldn’t just explode, I’d disintegrate. He’d have to throw my ashes out to sea.
Cole clicks a few things on his computer, quietly focused on the screen like he didn’t just maul me as if I were his prey. He was growling too. My lips feel claimed
, and I rub them together between chews to check they’re still attached. Yep. Still there. Phew.
I take a big bite just as his gaze flickers to mine, and he winks. My throat clenches, causing me to choke on the sandwich. I take a quick drink from my drink bottle that doesn’t hide Cole’s little chuckle. Bastard. Least I wasn’t foolish enough to chug the hot coffee.
“Ease up, Letty. Slow down while you eat, otherwise you’ll get indigestion,” Steve warns when I put my bottle down.
“Thanks, Dad,” I tease, tapping my chest to loosen any more coughs. I’m not worried about any pain felt there; it’s a place a little higher and to the left that I’m worried about getting hurt.
Later that night, surrounded by the movement of the patrons in the gallery, I’m not disappointed that my biggest fan never showed. Rather, my thoughts continue to replay that kiss over and over again, always filled with colour.
What happens now? Do I dare to hope? Or is our moment only going to turn into a shadow?
Cole
I turn off the ignition and take a moment to gather my thoughts. The most amazing kiss of my life was almost tarnished by a fucking phone call. Three hours ago, I was on the verge of a blind rage after a phone call from our bank came in, telling us that there were insufficient funds for a cheque that we tried to deposit that Letty hadn’t had time to see yet. It seemed that our client Dennis Bailey had not only deposited a blank cheque but he is, as per my sources, also filing for insolvency. His ex-wife has taken him to town and left him a broke, bankrupt bastard who’s tried to outplay us. He is a lying piece of shit who owes me three months’ worth of work. We aren’t the only ones, either. How he got council approval is beyond me. Owing me is one thing, but he owes my team. They were all paid a wage, and this cut into that. All of us at some stage have worked on a project with him in some way, shape, or form. This is not our first fucking rodeo with Dennis. We don’t deserve to be screwed around. We kissed his arse at each meeting, too.
