It goes completely against the company policy, and probably the law, to drag Augustine down into this sub-basement to check on the site office. But he isn’t letting me go. With each door he opens, his hand returns to my waist– a guiding touch that makes my skin buzz with possibility.
He hasn’t stopped touching me since he took that cup of tea out of my hand.
I don’t even think about the lack of security guards around in the lobby until I am inputting my security code for the site office door. I am mentally exhausted from work and completely hazy from the mind-bending orgasm Augustine gave me. The look in his eyes when he tasted me, and licked my release from my pussy like it was honey makes me feel hot even now. My fingers shake as I put in the wrong code and have to do it again. I want this done and over with. That security guard better be back at his station when I am done.
“Breathe, darling,” Augustine murmurs against my cheek. “The night is young and I still have yet to fulfil my promise to you.”
Jesus Christ.My knees threaten to buckle. My cheeks explode with heat as a small, pathetic noise comes from the back of my throat. I can’t stop it, and I don’t want to. For whatever reason, I want him to know exactly how weak I feel in his presence. I trust Augustine like I have known him for a lifetime.
Finally, I push in the code correctly and shove the door open.
“Could you stay out here? Please? This is technically confidential and I really shouldn’t have let you all the way down here to begin with. It’ll be two seconds.”
Augustine’s fingers flex against the soft skin of my waist, like he doesn’t want to let go of me. It should be weird, but my silly tired brain thinks it’s kind of cute. I lean up and kiss him, the taste of rain and me on his lips. He pulls me in closer, our wet clothes clinging and uncomfortable even as he turns his head to deepen the kiss. It would be easy to forget myself, to drag this unbelievable man into the dark office and let him ruin me. I think I could do just that, but then the little alarm telling me the door has been open for too long starts to go off.
I break the kiss and he tries to follow me, a rumbling sound that is unnatural and delicious coming from his chest.
“Two seconds,” I promise.
“Then I shall wait.”
He takes a step back and I get lost in the entire look of him. Out of the warm lighting of the library, he looks sharp. The fluorescents burn a bright white and make his olive skin look washed out, like he hasn’t spent much time in the sun. His deep, golden hair is dark and slicked back. Rainwater dots his temples and I want to lick it off of him. His shirt is buttoned all the way to the top and his leather boots look expensive. As I shut the door behind me, I am again struck by how different we are.
I flick the light switch on and flinch.
This place is a fucking disaster zone.Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck, I am so fired. My stomach drops onto the floor as I look around. The security guard told me he thought he saw an employee entering the office, not that there had been a break-in. I mean, this is beyond my job description. Shouldn’t he have just called the police? I grip my soaking wet purse to my chest and carefully step around the files on the floor. The wall of files that belong to the armoury appears untouched. The plastic boxes labelled CC are smashed and the files in them are tossed around like there was a party.
I can’t believe this.
Gary is in charge of opening and closing the site office. I know him, and as much as he can be hard to work with, he is good at his job. He wouldn’t leave the office like this and forget to lock the door and set the alarm. I pull out my phone and start taking pictures.This is just what I want to have to deal with, I think. The computer screens are all here, which I guess is good, but until this is all cleared up and I can go through all the information, I won’t know what was taken… if anything. Copies of employee information for the seasonal workers are stored here. If anything from their files had been taken, I am going to have a much bigger problem on my hands.
I should send Augustine home, or really back to the library. He must have work to do. I can’t just leave him hanging around outside and I don’t want to have to explain him to security. No part of me wants to do that, though. For the first time in a week, I don’t feel like I am going to combust into a pile of ash. When his hands are on me, I feel melty and soft and sweet and exactly like how I imagine people in movies feel.
I look down at my phone, the broken screen protector is cracked around the edges, and no service. I wonder if I should call Lance. He’s at the theatre, though. He’s living and I shouldn’t stop him from doing that. Police, I need to call the police. I look around the room again. The undisturbed shelves look out of place amongst the mess of Concord files. Interesting how shit like this can mirror reality.
My fingers dig into my bag, crushing the lumpy material to my chest. What a way to end my night. At least it saved me the bus trip… and I got an orgasm out of it that I won’t forget.
I turn around to leave, flicking off the light and resigned to a night of talking to the police and doing paperwork. The darkness is nice, the glow of the city lights and the thin line around the door frame is just enough for me to see. I take a deep breath, let the disappointment of reality settle back onto this plain of existence and off the dreamland I was in ten minutes ago. I practise what I am going to say to Augustine. I’m sorry. This is a total nightmare. I’m sorry. I have to call the police and a whole list of other people. It’s going to be a huge mess. I’m sorry. Do you want my phone number?
The last part sounds desperate, even in my head. I grip the door handle and am suddenly yanked back by the throat.
“Don’t move.”
A hand is clamped over my mouth before I can think fast enough. What do you do in a situation like this? Am I supposed to fight? Oh my god, what if they have a knife?
“You aren’t going anywhere, bitch.” A gruff voice whispers in my ear. “At least not until we are done with you.”
The babbling, panicked noises I make don’t do anything for me. Tears prick at the corner of my eyes as a second hand wraps around my throat. Another masked figure moves to stand in front of me and my whole body begins to shake. As I try to free myself, they rip my purse from my hand and drop it to the ground. It barely makes a sound as it falls onto the papers. It’s terrifyingly quiet in the room, the sound of harsh breathing echoing off the linoleum and plastic boxes.
I’m frozen in fear and every thought I have right now is about Augustine being just outside the door. He is so close, but it doesn’t matter now. The man holding me drags me deeper into the room with a grunt, away from the light under the door and my one hope. I cover my arms over my chest, and as I move, I touch the arm of the man behind me.
His arm is too hot, freakishly hot. Even the brush of my skin against his suddenly has me jerking away. The hand around my mouth doesn’t feel like this. I don’t know. Alarm bells are screeching inside of me that if I don’t get away I am going to burn. The ache in my neck feels like an open wound with every brush of his fingers against it.
“Sorry, darlin’, you ain’t my type.” The masked figure, the man, doesn’t sound at all apologetic as he shifts in front of me.
His fist lands squarely in my gut. My soft belly and organs concave around his fist. Air punches out of my lungs and chokes me. My throat seizes and I can’t breathe. Tears fall down my cheek as another punch hits. I twist in the grip of the man holding me, claw at his scorching arms and stomp my feet where I think his own are, but all that does is make the grunting turn to a snarl. Spittle lands on my ear and I flinch like I have been cut, but it only makes everything worse.
“I said, don’t move.” The hand around my throat tightens until spots appear in my vision. I flail, my eyes bulging as everything blurs and darkens at the edges. Another punch lands on my stomach and the grip loosens.
