Things are really good between us. Who would’ve thought that Dylan and I would be a couple? Although, he’s never stated we are. We don’t go on dates and we haven’t met each other’s family or friends for that matter. Is he keeping me a secret? Are we even a couple? He’s never called me his girlfriend.

“Are you my boyfriend, Dylan?” We are lying in bed. I’ve been living with him for a month and I still don’t know what we’re doing. Are we just fucking? It’s driving me insane. I want to know if this is going somewhere. I don’t want to get too comfortable with this situation. He hasn’t given me any cues that this is a long-term thing.

“Do we have to put a label on this, Andy? I don’t do girlfriends or anything. I don’t know what you want me to say.” He sounds tired and irritated. It still stings that he doesn’t see this as anything more than casual. I want to be someone’s girlfriend. I want a guy to take me out on a date and call it that. I don’t want to be an easy lay or convenient. Maybe Dylan isn’t man enough.

I get up out of his bed. I don’t feel comfortable here anymore. This isn’t my space. He isn’t my boyfriend. We are nothing. I need to get back to my place and sort things out. I can’t be around him right now. I’m too upset. Without a word, I get dressed.

“Andy, what are you doing?” He sits up in bed. Once I grab my bag and start stuffing things in it, I think it becomes pretty apparent. “Come on, Andy. It’s ten o’clock at night. You can’t leave right now. Why don’t you lie back down and we’ll go for round two?”

That infuriates me more. He does think of this as just sex. I mean nothing more to him than a quick lay, a warm body. “Fuck you. I deserve more than this.” He looks taken aback. I don’t think I’ve ever been this mad with anyone in my life. He’s just throwing this all away.

He stands next to the bed with just some black boxers on. “Because I won’t call you my girlfriend? Are you serious?” I don’t answer him. I go to the bathroom to grab all my things. When I come out he’s pacing beside the bed.

“I deserve to be someone’s girlfriend.” I push past him and grab Birdie, who’s asleep in her bed. She snorts at me and wiggles, but I have a good hold so she can’t run off. I know she wants to stay with Dylan, but I can’t. He’s made it clear what this situation is. I no longer want to be a part of it. I turn to look at him. Wait and see what he does. He stands there with his hands on his hips, angry.

He’s not going to stop me. He’s letting me go. I can feel my tears coming. I quickly leave and shut the door behind me. I make it downstairs and then I start to bawl. I’ve never felt this heartbroken. I feel unwanted. I thought he thought this was special. I thought he thought I was important. He doesn’t care. All those things I saw in him, I was being delusional.

At my apartment it’s quiet. My stomach feels a bit queasy after the last time I was alone like this. Thankfully, my door is locked. It’s pitch black in my apartment. I turn on the entry light and place Birdie down. She hobbles over to her little bed by the TV and lies down with a huff. She’s not happy to be back and honestly, I’m not either. But I’m not going to stay with someone just because we have great sex. There has to be more to it. Mutual respect and eventually love needs to happen for me to want to stay with a guy. Dylan was giving me none of that.

I pour myself a glass of wine, sit down on the couch and turn the TV on for background noise. My phone goes off in my purse and I reluctantly get up and get it. It’s Dylan. I hit ignore. He calls again and I send him to voicemail again. Next, I get an alert to a text.

I wail. I fall to the couch and bawl my eyes out. Birdie even comes over to me to make sure I’m okay. I grab a tissue from a box beside the couch and wipe my face. He has to go and do something sweet like make sure I made it home okay. Of course, I wouldn’t even be here if he would just man up and admit we had a relationship. I text him.

I don’t know what to reply, so I don’t. It’s a Tuesday night and I have work in the morning. I decide that I will go in as per usual. I can’t afford not to have a job right now. If he’s going to act like we’re nothing, then I can do it too. We will stay strictly professional from now on.

I knock on his door at eight a.m. on the dot. After a minute, I pound on the door. There’s some shuffling and he opens his door in his boxers. His hair is a mess and he smells like alcohol. “Andy. You’re back.” I wave my hand in between us to clear the air. The alcohol smell is overpowering. He opens the door and let’s Birdie and me in.

I’m three steps in and he grabs me from behind and starts kissing me on the neck. Normally, I wouldn’t be able to resist those kisses, but since he smells like alcohol and I’m pissed as hell, I turn from his grasp. I slap him across the face. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but that’s the reaction I give him. I’ve never slapped anyone before.

He stands there with his hand against his cheek and a dumbfounded expression on his face. “Ow. What the hell, Andy?”

“I will not be manhandled at work. This is strictly professional. I’m not your girlfriend.” I turn and walk to my desk and set my things down to start up my computer. Dylan leaves to go to his room. It’s a typical day. I check e-mails, file some paperwork and work on a few contracts. An hour later Dylan comes out. He’s freshly showered and dressed for a day at work.

It starts as a normal work day. We ignore each other for the most part and get down to business. As lunchtime comes around it gets a little shaky. Most of the time we would have sex during lunch and then he or I would go grab lunch to go and bring it back. Today is a different story though. I can feel his eyes on me. I purposely bend over my desk to get a file. I hear him sigh.

Okay, so I might be teasing him a little, but he deserves it. “Andy? How long are you going to keep this no sex thing going?” I huff at him and ignore what he just said. I feel his body behind me. “Are you going to slap me again if I touch you?”

“Maybe.” I try and hide my smile but can’t. I still can’t believe I slapped him. I feel bad now.

“I missed you being in my bed last night.” Turning around, I look at him and cross my arms.

“I bet you did.”

His hands are in his pockets. Dylan looks vulnerable. “I’m being serious here, Andy. I missed you. Not the sex or your body, even though that’s part of it. Look, I’m not doing very good here.” He takes a deep breath. “I want you to be my girlfriend.” He exhales loudly.

Was that seriously that hard for him to do? What happened to him in previous relationships where he’s afraid of having a girlfriend?

“Dylan, I don’t want to be your girlfriend just so you can fuck me. I want to go on dates and tell each other things and you introduce me as someone special in your life. Not just your assistant.”

He steps closer to me. “You don’t think I know that? I’ve never had a girlfriend, Andy. Never. I don’t know how to do this shit. I’ve never wanted to call anyone my girlfriend until you left last night. I realized what a simple request that really was and I was being an ass. I was still somewhat out of it from my bender last night and that’s why I acted like that this morning. That slap woke me up. I just thought I’d let you cool off for a bit and then broach the subject later. I’m not good at this . . . relationships.”

I smile at him. “I think you’re doing fine.”

He smirks.

He steps toward me as he talks. “I want to take you on dates and introduce you as my girlfriend. I want to tell you things.” He’s hovering above my lips. “Can I kiss you? I want to touch you so bad.”

I love sweet Dylan. I’m melting in my panties. “Yes,” I exhale. He pushes me and my back hits my desk. “Dylan? What are you doing?”

“I didn’t say where I wanted to kiss you.” His eyes gleam as he moves my dress up my legs. “Holy shit. You’re not wearing panties. You dirty girl. You drive me crazy.” He kisses the top of my legs. I purposely didn’t wear panties today because I knew sooner or later he’d find out and it would drive him insane. Call it payback by underwear.

“Dylan.” I run my hand through his hair.

“Shhh, I’m going down on my girlfriend.” I moan at that last word and start grinding my hips against his face. “Mmmm, you missed me, baby?”

“Yes.” I love make up sex. It’s the best. It strikes me as odd that Dylan hasn’t ever had a girlfriend. I’ll have to ask him about that later, when my legs aren’t around his head.

His lips surround my pussy and he lightly sucks. Dylan moves in circular motions around my clit and I’m gone. I chant his name over and over again until my climax subsides. He moves up my body and kisses me. I taste my release and it gets me even more wanton. I unbuckle his belt and pull his cock out. I rub him against my wet center as he rocks back and forth, creating friction. He spins me around so I’m leaning over the desk and starts pounding me from behind. I love desk sex. It makes me feel so naughty. We both come together with papers and files flying everywhere.

“I love fucking my girlfriend’s pussy,” he says on a sigh. I return his sigh and start cleaning up my desk as we get back to work. Dylan is my boyfriend. I smile at the thought. I have a sexy, sweet boyfriend. I’m blissfully happy in this moment.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. I’m up and down and so horny. Dylan is just driving me crazy. I’m glad we are official though and are clear with what we want in this relationship. I think I knew last night that I was starting to fall in love with him. It scared me. He’s nowhere near close to feeling that for me. I freaked out and left, but I can’t stay away. He’s like a ninja that creeped into my heart. I can see us growing old together and maybe married. Honestly, I don’t even know if he’s the marrying type. It was hard enough for him to admit we were even in a relationship.

He seems the type of guy that would be completely content with just living with a girl and not needing to make it official. Dylan is probably one of those guys that thinks that a piece of paper means nothing. Of course, I don’t think I could ever broach that subject with him. He would probably black out from his commitment phobia.

I think if I was with the right person, I wouldn’t need that piece of paper either. I could live happily with Dylan, with or without a piece paper. We aren’t even close to being there yet. I like what we have now and I think he’s happy too.

Dylan’s leaning over the dining room table and checking out a few listings available for office space. I smile and feel that little flutter feeling again. Yup, he’s gotten to me.