21
Cole
My morning has been hectic. I’ve just sat down in my office, hoping to take a few minutes to make lab results calls from my office, when there’s a knock on my door.
“Come in.” I continue to review the file in front of me.
Usually Lois just starts speaking, so when the silence continues, I finally look up.
Standing in the doorway to my office is Brooke.
“Hey.” She waves at me. Her teeth capture her lower lip as her expression turns uncertain. As if she’s realizing the fact that she’s run off, unexplained, the last two times we’ve seen each other could be a reason I don’t want to see her.
“Hey.” I release the file in my hand and lean back into my chair and really look at her. She’s dressed in black pants and a sleeveless blouse. My chest tightens as I take her in. Not because of what she’s wearing, but because I’m happy to see her. The date with Lori, which included some easy conversation and a shared appreciation for cooking, but absolutely no spark, only made it clearer that I have an undeniable connection with Brooke.
It’s been two weeks since I saw her. Fourteen long days since I touched her. Weeks of thinking about her and wondering what the hell she wants. When she disappeared after our night together, I was disappointed that it was just a one-night thing, and when I saw her up on five, I couldn’t stop myself from bringing her down to my office and touching her. My dick twitches now with the anticipation of what could happen. Its only action since I slept with Brooke is from my own hand, jerking off while thinking about her.
“Listen, I’m sorry about rushing out of here before.” Brooke’s eyes shift in the direction of the wall where I fingered her. My fingers flex at the memory of how amazing she felt, and my dick jerks in response.
“Okay.”
Brooke slowly walks toward my desk, until she reaches the corner and sits facing me, her animal print flats dangling off the ground.
Her green eyes lift to mine, she looks uncertain, but her words say something else.
“I wanted to see you.”
Her tongue darts out to lick her lips, and my dick continues to swell beneath my zipper. I don’t say anything. I take in the sight of Brooke’s cleavage in her low-cut blouse. How her chest moves up and down with every breath. My body rises out of the chair of its own volition and I find myself standing in front of her. Brooke’s legs part until I can move between them. Stepping in closer to her, our centers align. Brooke’s fingers lift to my tie. They linger there, lightly stroking. Her green eyes are fixed on her fingers, watching her slow, even strokes on the silk of my tie, then slowly, they lift to mine. I think she knows that I’m hesitant to touch her, but it’s not for the reasons she thinks. I’m not upset with her. I’ve never been more intrigued by a woman in my life. It’s really my desire to sit back and see what she comes up with. I’ve trapped my hands in my pants pockets because fuck knows what I’d do if I let myself touch her. That’s when I feel the tug. She wraps her hand around my tie and slowly pulls me toward her.
Her eyes are hooded, long dark lashes lowered toward her cheeks. It’s like torture waiting for the contact. And then, her soft lips press into mine. She tastes sweet like cherries.
What starts out slow and languid turns hot and heavy quickly. Brooke releases my tie, then both hands slide up my chest, over my shoulders and into my hair. I pull back slightly from her kiss, and am punished with a firm tug on my hair. My greedy hands don’t last long in my pants pockets. They’re moving up her thighs, sliding over her hips and waist to pull her in closer until my quickly growing erection is pressing into her center. Our mouths release on a gasp, and I kiss up her jaw until my lips are right next to her ear.
The noises she’s making are driving me crazy.
“Fuck, Brooke.”
We’re practically dry humping. This is insane. Anyone could walk in right now and catch us, which makes what we’re doing feel illicit, and completely unprofessional. When I fingered her against the wall, it was more my ego than anything that wanted to prove to her that she shouldn’t have snuck out that night. Temporary insanity after spending three nights replaying our night together. But, I’ve got my head on straight this time. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to bend her over my desk, maybe smack her ass for sneaking out on me twice, but I can be patient.
She gasps, then whispers, “I want you to fuck me on your desk.”
Her words are both insanely arousing and exactly what I need to put a stop to what we’re doing.
I could bend her over my desk, just like she’s requested. She could straddle me in my chair. But then she would probably run afterwards. No, I want to pin Brooke down for more than a quick fuck. I want a date. Dinner, then dessert, all night with her in my bed. I want to know how she takes her coffee. Fuck, if she even drinks coffee. All I know is she likes peach pie and orgasms. She hates expensive smoothies, especially if they’re green, and made with kale.
I pull back, sliding my hands down Brooke’s arms in a soothing gesture. She still has her eyes closed and when she opens them, she looks drunk.
“Why’d you stop?”
“Because I don’t want to fuck you on my desk.”
Her eyes narrow and her mouth drops open slightly.
“What?!”
“At least not today,” I preface, because she looks pissed, and I don’t want to get kneed in the balls. “I want a date. You and me. Dinner. Conversation.” I lean in to her again, my lips finding that tender place on her neck before I whisper in her ear, “Then, dessert.”
“A date?” She says it like it’s a four-letter word. Maybe it is and maybe I’m crazy for pursuing her, but I don’t really want to waste my time doing what we’ve been doing. I already know we have chemistry and I want to find out if there’s more to it than that. I’m not going to wait another week or two until she randomly shows up again.
