A/N: Thanks for the comments and favourites! I hope you like Chapter 2, and sorry for the delay, I've been sick.
Chapter Two: Lust
Dawn broke far too early the next morning. Even in sleep, I rebelled against the sun pouring in past the curtains I forgot to close, and I woke groggily to tightly shut eyes and the comforter over my head. I groaned and rolled over, risking a peek out from my nest to glare blearily at the alarm clock that had yet to go off: 6:47 AM.
"Fuck." I muttered, throwing off the comforter, wiping my eyes and blinking until they functioned in the brightness of the room. I needed to hurry, I had forgotten to set my alarm, so I only had thirteen minutes if I wanted to make it to work on time. I was sure Dev would forgive me for strolling in a bit late, but honestly I couldn't afford the time, not with the Harrington deadline looming.
I looked longingly toward the bathroom as I weighed my options. Shower, or breakfast...Shower...Breakfast...I shook my head and stood up, making my way quickly into the bathroom. If I kept my shower to a very fast five minutes, I could leave a little early and swing past a coffee shop for a bite to eat and a much needed dose of caffeine.
Since I was already naked, I jumped in the shower before I'd even turned it on. As I turned the knobs, I braced myself for the first frigid blast of water, and as it hit me I stifled a squeak, straightened, and backed out of the stream. Too cold.
Unfortunately, due to the angle of the showerhead, I wasn't free of the shower spray until my back was pressed against the icy tile of the bathtub wall. I gasped, but suppressed the urge to jump back into the water.
As I waited, and as the wall behind me warmed to my body temperature, I shivered violently. "Come on, come on," I muttered to myself as I fidgeted, holding a hand out to the slowly warming shower. I dreaded the idea of a completely cold shower, but I only had a few minutes and...
"Fuck it" I said aloud as I gritted my teeth and shoved myself under the spray.
The water poured down my body, plastering my hair to my head and pale shoulders as it darkened from a light brown to something closer to black. Streams like melted icicles ran down my back and over the goosebumped flesh of my arms. I held my hands over my breasts, trying to keep them warm, and ran my thumbs over my nipples. They had hardened into points in the cold, and while it wasn't the nice hardness of arousal, I knew it wouldn't take me long to get there. I contemplated the idea of a quick shower orgasm, letting a hand wander down my body to rub gently between my thighs as the water turned from cold to tolerably warm, but dismissed it in favour of time.
Shampoo. Rinse. Conditioner. Rinse. Soap...I let my hands wander roughly over my sensitive parts, allowing myself to revel in my fantasy for thirty seconds as I washed before I had to rinse again and leave the now steaming hot shower.
The chill air of the bathroom sent me into shivers again as I quickly towelled off, squeezed the remaining water out of my hair, and ran a brush through to get the worst of the tangles out. Then I squeezed (more) water out of my hair, and tied it up in a lazy bun to keep it from soaking my work shirt. Something about my hair - it absorbs water like a sponge and doesn't dry quickly at all, so unless I want to spend half an hour blow drying the crap out of it...Well, that's why it's usually in a braid, or a bun, or some other 'lazy' hairstyle.
I darted into the bedroom, grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them on, almost tripping myself in the process. I glanced at the alarm clock: 6:57 AM. Crap. I was still late.
A bra, socks, and a blouse-like work shirt later, I realized I had forgotten to put on underwear, but there was no time for it now. Luckily I didn't need any makeup, but I did take a half-second to put on the tiniest bit of scent - a musky, cinnamon-y scent made from essential oils. I hated regular perfumes, they always smelled either too much like the alcohol they were made out of, or they were too flowery for me. This was just the right amount of scent, and a much deeper one at that. I was sure that I wouldn't be anywhere close enough to Alexander for him to smell it, but...just in case.
I tiptoed out into the living room, since Mark was asleep on the couch. Unless he had gone out in the night...Nope, there he was, passed out in his boxers. I skirted past him to the kitchen and opened the fridge to look for a plausible lunch.
There was nothing, of course. At least, nothing that could be grabbed within thirty seconds, but luckily there was some leftover sushi that I had stuck in the work fridge, so lunch was covered. I shut the fridge, grabbed my backpack, and headed out the door. 7:03 AM. Not bad.
***
By the time I got to The Grind, the coffee shop down the block from work, I was regretting not taking the extra minute to put on underwear. I fidgeted in line, moving my weight from foot to foot as I felt more...exposed than physically uncomfortable. The rough denim of my jeans wasn't the best material to rub against my more intimate parts, but nothing was pinching, so it could've been worse. However, the sensation of being out in public without underwear was disconcerting, but also a little...exciting? To have that little secret thrill that no one else knew about?
I bit my lip and tried to concentrate as I made my way towards the till. I really had to get this under control.
"Um, an iced peppermint mocha, large, and a chocolate croissant," I said, pausing for a moment before I made an impulse decision, "Wait, make that two croissants please." I was starving, and unlikely to be eating for several hours. Plus, I had a soft spot for chocolate, especially in croissants.
I paid my debt to my caffeine dealer, and made my way to the pick up counter. My thighs pressed together as I walked and the movement just made me more aware of my predicament. I had to wonder about the women wearing skirts here though...were any of them going commando? I wonder if it felt as...risqué as this? More? Or did they just feel free?
I shook my head and smiled wryly to myself as I picked up my order, thanked the barista, and made my way to the office.
***
I tried not to think about Alex, but as I walked to my desk I realized I had taken the hallway that lead past his office. I sighed to myself and kept walking, as it was less obvious than turning around and heading back through the coworkers milling around. His door was open, and I braced myself for...something. In hindsight, I'm not sure what exactly I was bracing for - maybe just his overall presence - but what I didn't brace for, and what hit me hard, was the disappointment that he wasn't there.
I paused ever so slightly at his open door. The lights were off, the desk looked the same as it had last night. Was he just not in yet?
I couldn't afford to linger, so I made my way over to my desk.
"Mornin' Quinn," Tamara said brightly. She worked one cubicle over and was one of the main reasons I wore headphones a lot while I worked.
"Morning," I said with a tired smile, "Have a good night?"
Rookie mistake. I realized my error as Tamara's face lit up, probably due to the fact that I never ask her that anymore, not since she told me about her bowel troubles in excruciating detail once, two years ago.
"Oh yes," she said, the glee evident on her face, "I met someone at the pub and took him home. He was amazing." She lowered her voice to a stage whisper, obviously intending for most of the office to hear, and said "He fucked me in every room in my apartment."
"How...nice" I said, swallowing my unease. Tamara wasn't a bad person, and to each their own, but I did not need to know this information about the forty-nine year old divorced mother of two.
"Even in the kids' rooms, god I feel so naughty," she continued, oblivious to my discomfort, "I must've had ten orgasms. Just incredible. And you know what else?"
"Actually, Tamara," I cut in before she could answer her own question, "I have so much work to do and on a tight deadline, so I should really get to it."
"Oh..." Tamara said, her disappointment palpable, "Of course, I didn't mean to keep you."
I smiled sheepishly at her as I pulled out my headphones and put them in my ears, turning away from her to sit at my computer, turning it on. Sweet silence. I caught the eyes of Sam across from me, and his horrified expression nearly made me snort. I watched as he rearranged his features into something a little more sympathetic as I guess Tamara had turned back towards him. He nodded a few times and I was sorely tempted to take out my headphones just to hear what kind of train wreck was happening, but then Sam sat down and my desktop finished booting up.
I banished all thoughts of sex, whether involving Tamara or...other people. Time to get to work.
***
His head was between my thighs. His breath hot on my skin.
I could feel his lips soft against me, his tongue tasting me, sliding between my labia and running hard over my clit.
His hands held my hips to the bed as he devoured me, driving me to the edge of oblivion and leaving me there, unfulfilled.
***
The expulsion of all sexual thoughts from my head was an exercise in futility.
Not only did every shift in my chair remind me of the fact that I wasn't wearing underwear, (a fact I'm sure Tamara would find absolutely titillating), but when I wasn't actively focusing on my work I was either looking around the office hoping for a glimpse of Alex, or my mind was wandering off on its own accord into delicious fantasies. More than once I caught my hand inching over my thigh as I pressed my crotch down into the chair to give myself some sort of release.
I sighed in frustration and re-positioned myself again after one such daydream, pointedly re-adjusting my monitor screen, as though it were the problem and not my overactive imagination.
I glanced around the room for the umpteenth time, and noticed that it was suspiciously empty. The clock read 10:13 AM, so it seemed like it was coffee break time. I slumped back into my chair and groaned, if this was the pace I was going to keep setting, the project was never going to be done on time.
I picked up my cup of ice and slurped at the last few diluted sips of coffee while I played with the straw and considered my options. Spinning my chair around to face the room, I wondered if a walk might help - stretch the legs, maybe some fresh air. The treacherous part of my brain chimed in by telling me I could always take a couple swings past Alex's office to see if he was in.
No. Be good.
I thought to myself. I spun back to face my desk, setting down my cup. I could also sign out one of the office laptops and go work somewhere else, get away from the office for a bit and maybe I would have more luck concentrating.
Or I could go give myself a quick orgasm in the work bathroom.
I groaned and lay my head on my desk. When did I become so ridiculously sex-starved?
I decided a walk was in order. I swept up the last few crumbs of my croissants into their empty bag, got my empty cup, and headed off to the great outdoors.
