Adam
I can’t seem to keep away from her. However hard I try, there she is. It’s harder and harder to stay away from her, and I wonder, more and more, if she wants me to be close to her, or if it’s just my foolish mind playing tricks.
I hear her breath catch when we touch, by accident, in the hallway, or beneath the table, or behind her in the lift, on the way back up to the offices after lunch. I feel her press against me, whenever opportunity permits. In the doorway, on my way out, she pauses a moment, so we are close together, and looks as if she wants to say something, but never does. I wish she would. I want to know the things she wants.
I stand behind her one evening, looking over some work, bent to see better over her shoulder, and she nuzzles against the side of my neck lightly, almost imperceptibly. The scent of her perfume is heady and intoxicating, and I long to kiss her skin.
In the kitchen, making coffee, she comes up behind me and takes a mug, pressing close to me. I do the same, and feel her body warm to me, moving backwards to meet me. I am sure of it, and yet I can’t make the move – not until she asks me to.
I need some files for one of the clients, and find myself in the archives room – a big, dusty library of old advertising campaigns, from when the company was a tiny thing, right up to the latest project. I know where I need to look, but my eye is drawn by a figure in the very back of the room, rustling around, trying to reach up to some of the old folders, right at the top. I squint, but I can’t make out who the person is. However, as I move closer, I can make out the shape of the woman I have come to know so well, stretched up, reaching for the file. The strain of reaching lifts the corner of her shirt, flashing the bare skin of her stomach, as I come around the corner with a stifled offer of help. I want to touch her bare skin, feel its smoothness beneath my fingertips. I am distracted, and don’t see her turn to look at me. I am certain she must know I was looking at the strip of skin; must know how keenly I want to touch her, and explore everything beneath those clothes.
‘Roxie? I didn’t expect to see you here,’ I say, finally coming to.
‘Sorry, I was just looking for something,’ she mumbles, pointing up at the shelf.
‘Can I help?’ I ask.
‘Maybe – I think it’s on that shelf there. It should be labelled Bon-Santé June 2006,’ she says. The shelf is just above her head, and she makes no move to step out of the way, so the only thing I can do is step forward and reach up.
‘This shelf?’ I ask.
She nods. ‘Yes,’ she whispers quietly, as I stretch up, in front of her, my body pressed against hers. She holds me to her, her hands on my waist, exploring the taut muscle of my stomach and chest, feeling my heart pound, no doubt, beneath her touch. My breath quickens and I leave the file half-out, my hands reaching instead for Roxie’s face. Her own hands pull me to her, hip against hip, my hard cock pressed against her – she must realise, I think, as I lean in, her chin tilted towards me. Just then, the folder falls down onto my head, and the moment shatters.
I pick it up and hand it to her, saying something stupid like ‘saved by the file’ as I make my excuses. I can’t grasp the moment back, and move swiftly from the room, cursing myself for not having tried. I am embarrassed, and can’t bring myself to meet her that evening, as I have done every evening, to share thoughts and ideas with her, always thrilled by the possibility of her skin brushing mine, her leg entwined with mine, always leaving at the end and pausing in the doorway, bodies pressed up against each other, wanting so much to kiss her.
It is a Friday, and we are all called into a meeting. Geoff is being honoured with a special achievement award for services to the pharmaceutical industry, and we are to attend a big ceremony, in his honour. I am thrilled for him, and head up to the fiftieth floor to see him, and give him a pat on the back. As I make my way to his office, I see Roxie coming out. She looks at me with her beautiful blue eyes, and drops her gaze again. I know, in that moment, that I have blown it.
Feeling deflated, I go in to see Geoff and congratulate him on the special achievement. He waves a hand at me, clearly overwhelmed and a little embarrassed by the accolade, but he pulls out two beers and we drink them with companionable chatter, discussing his speech and the event in general. There will be some bigwigs there, and most of the employees, and I know Roxie is bound to be going.
I leave Geoff’s office with a renewed sense of hope, as I head back down to the advertising department. Roxie is tucked away at her desk, and I dare not disturb her. She has the damned file out on her desk, and I want to burn it for the havoc it has caused. That was the moment, I am sure of it. I only hope that there might be another.
A few weeks later, the awards do rolls around, and I pop by the assistant’s office. Roxie is there, alone.
‘Roxie?’
‘Yes?’ she says, though not unkindly.
‘I was just wondering if you needed a lift to the awards do, tonight?’ I ask, hoping for a particular answer.
She frowns. ‘That’d be lovely,’ she says, after a short while. ‘Pick me up around 8pm? I’ll email you my address,’ she adds, her face softening into a smile.
‘8pm it is,’ I grin.
As I pull up to the address she gave me, I feel butterflies in my stomach. I phone her, telling her I’m outside.
‘What, don’t men come to the door anymore?’ she teases.
‘I’ll knock if you want,’ I threaten, but she laughs and tells me not to, as I sit there, waiting for her. She is well worth the wait, as she comes out of the small black door, in the side of a somewhat shady-looking building; she does not fit in there at all, this sparkling phoenix, emerging from the grey ashes of the street. I am speechless.
She is dressed in a long, flowing gown of dark red silk, peppered here and there with sparkling red gems, which glitter in the last light of the evening. The bust is cut low, the straps thin, a draping red twist accentuating her waist, whilst a slit in the fabric reveals the barest hint of leg beneath the dress. Elegant heels show off her slim ankles, and give her a statuesque quality; an Amazon any man would die to be with for a night. Her blonde hair is piled into an intricate up-do, twists of golden hair framing her face, which is made up to perfection; her skin is natural, but even more glowing than usual, her lips a fierce red, her eye make-up smouldering and smoky, lashes long and blinking at me in a sultry manner as I get out and open the passenger side door for her. She gets in elegantly, the neckline of the dress showing her slender, beautiful neck, which I want, desperately, to press my lips against.
‘You look beautiful,’ I tell her.
‘You don’t look too bad either,’ she winks, playfully.
The party is exactly as I suspected, full of bigwigs and industry people, and most of the office, though they are primarily all drunk by the time we arrive. I hand Roxie a glass of champagne, and we clink, eyes locked, as we sip the fizz. Roxie is causing quite the stir, with her dress and her stunning beauty, and I can sense every man’s eyes on her as we walk into the main ballroom area. My hand is on her waist, and she presses close to my side, as we walk through the crowds of people, to find somewhere to sit for the awards ceremony. Geoff is nowhere to be seen; probably practicing backstage, I muse.
I look down at Roxie, and know I want to kiss her. The awards aren’t for another few hours; there is time, I think, as she meets my gaze with a ready smile. She places her hand softly on my chest, and the impulse is overwhelming, yet I know this isn’t the right place; I don’t want to ruin Roxie’s reputation.
I lean into her, my lips close to her ear. ‘I want to kiss you,’ I tell her.
She holds my face close to her. ‘Then kiss me,’ she whispers.
‘Not here – there are too many people,’ I explain, taking her hand in mine as we make our way back out into the lobby area. I run to reception and ask for a room, paying for it quickly as Roxie waits by the staircase, wide-eyed and beautiful. I hand her the key and tell her to go ahead of me. She does, and I watch as she walks away up the stairs, the epitome of a goddess, the train of her red silk dress cascading down the steps behind her, before she disappears at the top. I wait a moment or two, before following. With Roxie gone, nobody watches the staircase.
I knock on the door of the room, and Roxie opens it eagerly.
I walk in and shut the door behind us, gathering her up into my arms as I press her back against the wall of the hotel room, leaning in. She lifts her face, and our lips meet for the very first time. It is intoxicating, and I hold her face in my hands, kissing her slowly, sensually, as she laces her hands through my hair, her hips moving against mine. I stroke the soft skin of her neck, before kissing the same spot delicately, breathing in the scent of her. She kisses me hard on the mouth, moaning as I press her hips against my hard cock, prominent through the fabric of my pants, grinding her against it. She bites my ear gently, and I gasp as I feel her hands rubbing the outline of my cock. I ease one of the thin straps of her dress from her shoulder and let it slip, revealing her naked breast, nipple hard in arousal. My mouth is drawn to it, and I suck gently, as she moans, arching her back against the wall. I ease the other strap free, and move from one nipple to the other, sucking and nipping gently, until she bucks against me.
I fall to my knees in front of her, and stroke the length of her leg, visible through the slit in her dress. I kiss the inside of her thigh, my hand reaching up to her backside, grasping it as I press her skin close to my mouth, kissing her passionately. Slowly, I pull on the band of her underwear, and ease them down her legs where she steps out of them, and move my mouth closer, kissing delicately, to her clit. She cries out as my tongue finds the spot, flicking against it skilfully, then sucking, but not too hard, as I slowly press a finger inside her. She holds my head as I lick and suck and kiss her clit, making sure to taste her sweet, wet pussy, pressing another finger inside her as she moans, her body arching in ecstasy, her legs trembling. I don’t want to rush, but it’s hard not to push her back against the bed and thrust my hard cock inside her.
‘I’m coming,’ she cries, her body shuddering, as I bring her to her first orgasm.
Once I am certain she has come, I kiss my way up her body, sliding the rest of her dress down, until it pools on the floor at her feet. She is naked, save for the elegant heels, which she kicks her way out of as I press her up against the wall, kissing her hard on the mouth, my hand still working between her legs.
Her hands are on my shirt, unbuttoning it, pulling it from me, as we kiss passionately, desperately, my tongue seeking hers. Her fingers make quick work of my belt and zip, pushing my trousers down. I step out of them until there is nothing between me and her except for the fabric of my boxers, which she pushes down, as she sinks to her knees. I feel her mouth on the tip of my cock, and have to work hard not to come there and then. She takes me into the warm, wet of her mouth and sucks hard, her hand working the shaft of my cock, moving backwards and forwards, until I grasp her arms and bring her to her feet again. I can wait no longer.
‘I want to fuck you,’ I say.
‘Fuck me,’ she pleads, her arms about my neck, my cock slipping between her legs, teasing her. I pick her up and carry her over to the bed, my cock head pushing at the entrance to her pussy, even before I lay her down. She grips her legs around me and pushes onto my hard cock, making me gasp as she does so. She is tight and wet, and I bury myself in her to the very base. She cries out, pulling me against her as I slide slowly out, to the tip, and thrust back in again. I fuck her slowly, deliberately, wanting to elicit every gasp and cry I can from her lips. I hold her arms above her head, her wrists crossed beneath my hand, and she grinds against me, eyes closed with pleasure, a smile playing on her lips. I wonder, seeing her expression, if it might mean what I hope it means. My eyes flash to the red silk sash on the floor that had cinched in her waist, but I decide against it; I’ll leave it for another time, when we have longer to play.
I can feel my own orgasm building, as I bring her to another shuddering climax, my fingers deft against her clit. She cries out, gripping my back; I can feel the scratches that will sting in the shower later, and it brings me over the edge, as I come inside her, holding her tightly to me.
She grins, as I pull away and lie beside her, pulling her into my chest, my fingers running through her hair as I kiss her forehead, glistening a little with the perspiration of our passion.
‘That was something else,’ she whispers, smiling widely, almost coyly, in my arms. She curls around me, and I suddenly feel protective, drawing her close, kissing her lightly on her upturned mouth.
‘It was,’ I sigh, still breathing hard. ‘I didn’t hurt you?’
She shakes her head. ‘No, not at all.’
‘You must always tell me, if I do,’ I insist, kissing her, feeling her naked skin against mine.
‘So, there’ll be a next time?’ she asks shyly.
I smile. ‘If you want there to be.’
She nods. ‘I do.’
‘Good,’ I grin. ‘There are so many things I want to explore with you, Roxie – if you’ll permit me,’ I add, thinking of the red sash and the smile on her face when I held her wrists.
‘I’ll try anything with you,’ she whispers, kissing my neck as she turns her face back down, breathing contentedly as I hold her.
It’s only when she catches sight of the time on the bedside clock that she jumps up in a panic, snatching up her gown and darting into the bathroom. I swear quietly, and gather my things, dressing quickly as I wait for her. She emerges a few minutes later, as stunning as ever, looking as if nothing had ever happened, her hair pinned in place again, her lipstick reapplied.
‘We’ll be late,’ she grins, as she takes my hand and leads me to the door. ‘Until next time,’ she chuckles mischievously, as we step out into the hallway.