“Yeah, I’m going with that, Kay. I like him more than I want him, even that first night. That’s why he never got the digits. Heck, he never even knew my name. He probably does that all of the time anyway.”
“Does what? Fuck a woman without knowing her name?”
Exact-a-mundo. “Uh huh. That.”
“Well, as for fucking everything with a goodie box? I don’t know him, so I can’t say what he does. Or doesn’t do. But if a man was less than concerned about the sight of your front or backside when he was done, then he wouldn’t have followed your itinerary for today. He would have let you ignore him, as he likely would have been doing the same. He would have found ways to stay as far from you as possible and he damn sure wouldn’t have taken you out to lunch.”
“Kayla, you are the worst.”
“Hell.” Her best friend chuckled. “Yes I am. But that’s only because I will tell you the truth even if you don’t want to hear it.”
“True.”
“I think you should go with the flow and enjoy it while it lasts. It can’t hurt anything right?”
But Kayla was wrong. Taylor already felt like she was a teenager in the midst of the blush of first love. That place where every doodle is of hearts and mixed up last names. And for a grown woman, that was a dangerous place to be. Young girls could deal with heart break, it was one of the unwritten perks of youth. For the grown and sexy? It was a bad look and too many movies were based off the concept of falling for the wrong person and unreciprocated emotions.
And she was so not trying to play a remake of Glenn Close and Michael Douglass. It was not going to happen, not on her watch.
The next few days were uneventful, Taylor spent morning, evening and night working in an attempt to catch up from her two afternoons of hooky. But no matter how many emails she read, two more took its place, until the backlog sprang around her in a web of grey hairs in electronic format.
She was surprised as she hadn’t seen or heard from Chandler in all of that time. She was grateful for the reprieve to gather up the wildflowers of feeling and stuff the excess behind her usual polite societal walls. But in the same vein, she missed him. That in itself made little sense. Taylor should be nothing more than appreciative of the break from Chandler.
But she wasn’t.
Chandler knew that Taylor expected him to pop up, like an unwelcome weed in the garden. Or a pimple on prom night. But after she had unmanned him in his own car in broad daylight, he knew he needed to come up with a better plan. One that involved teaching her a thing or two.
His week was busier than normal, as he crammed seven days amount of business into just under half that number of days. But the laborious toiling would bear fruit. Of that he was certain.
He let her work uninterrupted until the weekend, and Friday was to be the game changer.
That evening, he made certain Taylor was still going to be in the office late. Chandler knew that he was wrong, but at the last minute he requested an audit of market’s budget from the last six months. That sent his Senior VP’s in a tizzy as the trickle-down effect rained the work onto the Regional Managers heads all the way down to the Area Managers, like Taylor.
She would be in the office half of the night as she had never done the reports before. The other managers knew the ins and outs, but not her. Not yet. Benson was the second to last one to drop his off, and that was at a quarter till six.
Chandler had no immediate need of the data, as they numbers were usually due with the quarterly reporting. But it was always nice to keep the complacent on their toes. He uploaded each of the audits into his spreadsheets and saved the files before he locked the office door and walked the hall way.
The area that Taylor worked in was not quite an office, but more than a cubicle. There was ample space, but the Area Mangers shared a room with three others. They could work from numerous places, the office, home, stores in their territory, or on the road, so usually most managers barely saw their office mates at the same time. He had considered that when he had the plans drafted for the building in the first place.
There were four separate desks and separate office supplies, and each person had their own quadrant within the four walls.
Taylor sat at her desk and he watched as she rolled her shoulders, the chestnut brown skin seemed lustrous despite the glare of standard florescent lighting above her. She had a pencil behind one ear and a large calculator that she double checked her figures with.
He actually appreciated her meticulous handling of the numbers. None of the other managers bothered to do so, and although the programs his company used were very good ones, nothing was fool proof. Even he checked his reports with his own math to ensure that every numeral on every document was correct. The last thing any company needed was slip shod accounting in the electronic age.
She never even noticed he was there, and he didn’t have the heart to bother her just yet. Let her finish what she started as he could wait a little while longer. He had planned to sweep her away this weekend and show her what they could be like together. The plan didn’t include sex, just good ole fun and laughter.
But the more he watched her, saw the professional woman at the forefront, the more he wanted to muss the perfection of her veneer up.
He looked away from the woman to the room around her, noted where she had placed her stamp on the small corner of her space. Her jacket was carelessly tossed onto her filing cabinet and he saw the stacked heel of her shoes peek from beneath her chair. She didn’t take much longer though and he saw the victorious change within her posture once the report finally balanced.
“Good job.” He said. She jumped up, shrieked loudly and the combination that was nearly hilarious. Chandler didn’t feel guilty for frightening her. Not one bit.
Her eyes narrowed and he knew she could see his amusement, not that he tried very hard to hide it. The pencil behind her ear fell out and was trapped drunkenly in the length of her hair, right below her nape. He smiled at the askew sharpened wood as it poked comically over her shoulder as if she used the inanimate object to stare at him warily.
She took a deep breath as though she needed to calm her racing heart. “Hi. I just finished the report.”
“Really?” He asked rhetorically.
“You scared me.”
“I bet I did.”
Taylor stood and slipped on her jacket in one fluid movement as if the fabric were nothing more than a cape she swirled onto her shoulders before she did witchy magic on the unwary. Her height changed on the left side, listing her upwards, and then the right side balanced to the same degree as she stepped back into her shoes.
The addition of the garments seemed to change her from vulnerable to armored in a split second.
She sauntered in his direction and held her hand out once she was mere feet from him. He took the fingers she offered him and felt her pass a flash drive, warm from her touch and the kiss of the computer that housed the portable memory card just moments ago.
“Excuse me.” She tried to pass him by, but he stood in front of the door.
“Not so fast.”
She looked at him, her gaze was dead on. He found it hard to not touch her, but he refrained and let his eyes linger over her form as if they could be his fingers. Her expression never changed from the business woman that meant business, but she panted slightly and her lips parted enough that he could see the pink press of damp tongue to her teeth.
“What now? You have another report that needs to be in by sundown?”
“Follow me.”
He clasped her hand, the same one that she used to pawn the flash drive into his possession a moment before.
“Why?” She tugged her hand as though to reclaim the digits back, but he only tightened his grip.
“Because, I plan to rip your panties off. And I could care less if there is a door that shuts or not. But you just might.” She gasped and pulled even more frantically at his clenched fingers.
“No, Chandler. N
ot here. Someone could—”
“What? Walk in? Not likely, it’s Friday night, everyone else has something better to do than work. Take off the jacket.”
She looked at him and bit her lip. When she let the reddened flesh free from her teeth, Taylor tugged the jacket back off and he did the same. He loosened his neck tie and unzipped his pants.
The sound of the zipper snapped her back to reality, as he watched her shake her head. “This is crazy, Chandler.”
“Yes, I agree. But I do know that I have to take the edge off or you won’t walk straight next week.” She shuddered and took a step back.
But it was too late for that. She was going to get it.
He stepped forward and she continued to backpedal until she almost fell over her desk. Chandler grabbed her flailing hands and pulled her into him, forced her frame steady again. He spun her to face the desk and pushed her down onto the paper laden surface.
His fingers trailed over the hem of her knee length skirt, the herringbone pattern hitched to her upper thighs. Chandler cupped his palm over her cunt, the heat and moisture combined to form a fragrant brew that only tantalized him even more.
Chandler bent over her back and cocked his mouth to her ear.
“If you don’t want this, tell me.”
She remained mute and he clenched his fingers tighter over her sodden panties.
“Say it.”
She bowed her head in submission but kept her silence.
Chandler arched away and removed his hands from between her thighs, just before he smoothed the expanse of her skirt down.
Before he could step away fully, her hands went back and grabbed at him greedily. Her fingers tightened and she sighed.
“I want it Chandler. You know I do.” Her voice was small and he felt the waves of shame roll over her flesh.
But he wasn’t satisfied with a cowering admission of desire. He leaned over her again and cupped her cunt, fisted his hands into the ropes of hair.
He tightened the hands and pulled her head back, forced a tortured arch out of her neck.
“Say it then.”
“I want you!” The tone of her voice was guttural, most likely due the kink in her neck.
This time he felt better as he could see her face when she spoke.
“Good.”
His hand smoothed over the lace crotch of her underwear and cruelly ripped the sparse fabric with a single tug on the flimsy tatting. All she was left with was a band over her hips and as he spread her thighs even that was reduced to a mere rope of black elastic that rolled up her hips.
He didn’t bother to undress either one of them any farther than they already were. To his unending gratitude he had just enough of their bodies exposed to get the job done. Chandler tugged at her clit once then pulled his hand free so he could roll a condom on top his cock. With the necessary precaution in place, there was no more reason to wait.
So he didn’t, and the initial thrust was deep enough that he nearly seated himself to the taut sac beneath the root of his cock.
“Chandlerrr-rr!” She slurred in the high pitch of a soprano and rocked her hips against his in jerks, fits and starts of motion that only served to reduce his non-existent will to ashes.
“Oh yeah, Taylor.” He oscillated his hips back and forth. “Fuck me back.” He couldn’t ask for more than that.
She milked him nearly dry with her undulations alone. Not to mention her cunt slurped with every thrust and the rude sounds of sex echoed around him deliciously. It would take so little for him to erupt that he was nearly ashamed of himself.
He tried to take his control back and grabbed her hips tightly with an attempt to slow his excitement. But it didn’t work and she only rebounded with suckling at his cock with the walls of her cunt instead.
“Fuck! Taylor stop!” He slapped her ass with his hand and she quivered, the smack changed the cadence within her pulsing walls to an erratic rhythm that only brought him closer to surrendering his seed.
He slapped her again and again, as her hips jerked and wobbled.
She called out throatily. “Oh yes!”
He grunted, leaned over her bowed spine and rocked harder. If he spoke, it was all going to be over. He could only give his energy into their next merger and separation of flesh.
“Fu-cck! Chandler!” her head bumped the table and her hair slid over the slick desk to lazily skirt the floor.
He gritted his teeth and felt his nostrils flare as he exhaled hot air onto her newly bared nape.
“Please don’t stop-pp!” Those were the last words she called out before she exploded around him and he erupted inside her.
They laid there for long moments, not as long as he would have liked.
But they were in the office.
Chapter Five: Drunken Desk Dance
When he looked around the scene framing their lust, the world seemed to be in a state of inebriated sprawl. Every item seemed akimbo and out of place. The desks were still clustered together but their lovemaking had splayed the tables askew from their natural orientation into a drunken diamond. Papers cluttered on the desks now rested in the floor in a large confetti configuration.
As she whipped her locks forward, he saw that she had accumulated a few items. Namely, post it notes although she had held onto the wonky placed pencil, and the poor lead writing implement was in limbo, half-way into her hair and half-way out. He wasn’t sure why, but the woman covered in sticky notes was even more dangerous that the woman that he originally met those weeks ago.
It might be because he knew exactly who she was beneath the sensual exterior. Before, all he had to deal with was the impulsive chemistry, the desire to get his hands on her, and the intense yearning to hear her scream. Now on the other hand, it was so much more than that. Now it was the need to find out how she liked her eggs in the morning and the desire to know her for the woman she was beneath the beautiful packaging she was wrapped in.
He finally moved away from her, and saw that her attention was on the typhoon of mess around her. Yeah, they had made quite the path of destruction.
He contemplated the merits of walking away from the damage, but her expression said she would fret about the office until it was as neat as it was left in their care. Chandler shucked the limp, used rubber from his cock and hesitated to toss it directly in the trash.
There was an envelope just a few feet away, he picked up the stamped and addressed empty paper casing. Then he placed the sticky latex inside and wadded the entire packet in his hand before he tossed the mismanaged correspondence into the trash.
“I’ll bet that the Anderson’s would really appreciate not getting that in response to their franchising request.” She said, and he laughed. That would blow over quite well with the family friendly firm.
He cleaned the disaster area with Taylor, helped her to make certain that no one knew what they had been up to after hours.
“I told you to come to my office.”
She chuckled and grinned. “You may have been right.”
He was at a loss as to where the papers belonged, but he stacked them into the bin at the top of her filing cabinet anyway. At least it was neater than the document’s prior home on the floor, Chandler thought. He quickly ushered the desks back into place and the various sticky paper stubs dotting Taylor’s limbs were reattached to her desktop PC and table top.
That weekend went exactly as Chandler planned. They tooled around the city as if two love-drunken tourists. The city had plenty to see and much to do. And he planned to show her as much of it as was possible to absorb in the forty-eight hours they had together as a couple. Friday he chalked up as a loss, as the not-so quickie sex in the office ensured they missed their dinner reservations.
But he showed her a few etchings in his bedroom.
Saturday was about the idea of having grown up fun. He took her to the movies after a romantic meal pond side. The only problem was the fact that the ducks were worse than ants there, and Taylor was too
soft heated when she took pity on the creatures. She made the mistake of feeding the first one and it only took moments before they had a gaggle of the waterfowl around them in circles. The quacks were loud, boisterous and angry once the bread was gone.
After the ducks ran them off, he took her back to his place and they slept in each other’s arms that night. The next day was devoted to kid fun and he took her to the theme park where they rode numerous rollercoasters.
The park was crowded and when finished with the bungee jump, they opted to take a breather. As they passed the stall filled with stuffed cartoon characters, Chandler knew he had to win her one of the humongous animals and sadly, he ended up spending way too much money with his attempts to do so.
He could tell that Taylor had given up on him long before, but his masculine pride refused to let him quit until he got what he wanted.
And he wanted to give her the pink three foot tall bear.
The bear was only worth a fraction of what he had spent in the attempts to win it.
But it was the principal of the thing now.
When he had broken his fifth twenty, even the carnie youth that manned the booth appeared to feel sorry for him.
“Chandler?” She asked, and he could see she was exhausted with their exertions of the day. Her face was covered in a thin film of grime that she made adorable with the smile she plastered on and he knew she wanted him to stop.
“Hmm..?” He looked at her.
“May I try?”
He handed her the ball and she stared at the milk jugs stacked atop one another. The goal was to sink the ball into a jug. The higher the jug, the better the prize.
Taylor looked at him and winked. The ball left her fingers and even he could see the angle was perfect.
The small group of people gathered at the stall snickered, almost as a single organism, and Chandler felt his ears turn red.
The carnie used the hook to tug on the pink bear hanging from the stall ceiling.
Not Just A One Night Stand Page 5
