Maylee Lamb sat at her desk, staring blankly at her laptop screen. She'd been trying all afternoon to fix a final production file that was supposed to go to the printers tomorrow, and she was thoroughly exhausted. She wanted to just say "fuck it, good enough" and go home, but the young artist found her perfectionist streak to be a deadly foe. Now it was late, the sun had set, and the lights on the third floor of the greeting card company Maylee worked for had automatically flipped over to energy-saver mode.
With everyone else gone and every third florescent lit, the office had a strange, almost creepy vibe. The way the shadows pooled around her plants turned them into unfamiliar shapes in the corners of her eyes, and the sound of her fingers working the keyboard echoed disconcertingly off the hard walls.
The phone on her desk trilled, and the twenty-six-year-old artist nearly jumped out of her skin. She took a few seconds to catch her breath, and push back a lock of honey blonde hair that had escaped her professional bun, before picking up the receiver.
"He-hello?" she asked, her normally velvet contralto still a bit shaky.
"Miss Lamb, what're you still doing here?" The voice of Herbert, the building's ancient night security guard, creaked through the line. "I about told your boyfriend to buzz off. He's down here in the lobby with a pink box for you. You want to come down to get it? Or I can bring it up next time I make my rounds if you like."
"Ryan brought me a present? Oh my God, that's so sweet! I'm super busy up here, could you just maybe let him come up? Just for a minute?"
"That'd be against the rules, Miss Lamb," Herb drawled. Maylee could imagine his eyes squinting suspiciously as he spoke.
"Just for a minute," Maylee cajoled. "You've known me for years, I just want to see him and give him a kiss without losing my spot in my work. He'll be gone before your next round, I promise."
Downstairs in the lobby, Herb examined Ryan critically. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his late thirties, with short brown hair and dressed in business casual attire. He did have about a day's worth of stubble on his face, but there were no visible tattoos or weird piercings. Herb guessed the man looked trustworthy enough. "Just for a minute," he agreed grudgingly. "But no funny business!"
Maylee laughed. "No funny business, Herb."
Herb grunted, and pushed the button that unlocked the doors to the elevator. "Not a word about this to anybody, boy! I could lose my cushy job!"
Ryan chuckled. "My lips are sealed, sir. I'll just be a minute! You're the man!" He was through the door and down the hall before the old guard could change his mind.
---
Ryan got off on the third floor and made his way to Maylee's office, a huge smile on his face. He came through the doorway and paused, just gazing at his girlfriend as she worked on her project. As with every time he saw her, he couldn't believe how lucky he was; she was talented, funny, smart, and so beautiful. Maylee was five foot nine, with broad shoulders and hips but a defined waist that gave him the perfect place to rest his hands while they were dancing, or snuggling, or, really, anything. Any excuse to have his hands on her waist was a good enough excuse. She was always so self-conscious about her "farm girl" build, but Ryan couldn't for the life of him understand why.
The long, black, sleeveless dress she wore hugged her curves in a way that was perfectly appropriate for an office, but that made Ryan's head swim anyway. How did he manage to end up with someone so gorgeous, so... just... so
everything
? He had no earthly idea.
Maylee didn't notice Ryan until she felt his large, calloused hands land gently on her shoulders and begin lovingly massaging away the tension she hadn't realized she'd been carrying. She sighed and leaned back, letting those hands do their work.
"Jesus, M," Ryan said as he rubbed Maylee's stiff muscles. "You feel like you've been at the gym all day!"
"It's just this stupid final. I can't get it right," Maylee said, closing her tired eyes.
Ryan peered over Maylee's head to glance at the screen. "It looks perfect to me, kitten."
"That's why you're not a product designer," Maylee chuckled.
Ryan grinned. "No, I'm not a product designer because I have no talent. Don't change the subject."
"What'd ya bring me?" Maylee opened her eyes and looked around; she spotted the box on the corner of her desk and snatched it up. She giggled delightedly as she pulled the cardboard top open; inside were a dozen of the fattest, juiciest, chocolate-covered strawberries she'd ever seen.
"Oh! I love this!" she squealed. "That's so sweet!"
Ryan moved his hands from Maylee's shoulders and put them on her hips, around the narrow back of the office chair. He kissed her on the top of her head, and just smiled.
Maylee picked a strawberry out of the box and nibbled it, sighing loudly. "Oh, sunshine, this is just what I needed."
Ryan couldn't help himself; he leaned down a little further and planted a soft kiss on Maylee's neck. His lips were gentle and wet and Maylee shivered. "I needed that too," she sighed.
"More?" Ryan asked.
"Yes please," Maylee giggled.
"Beg me."
Maylee shivered again; Ryan's voice was low, dark, and entirely enticing.
"Ryan, I'm still working," she protested, half-heartedly.
"Ok, no problem," he grinned, drawing away from her and reaching out to take the box of strawberries. Maylee frowned as Ryan's hands left her body, and frowned more as he lifted the pink box away from her grasp.
"Hey, can you even do that?" she huffed. "I think there's a rule against taking my strawberries away!"
"These were supposed to entice you to come home, I need to make sure there are some left." Ryan shrugged apologetically. "I had plans for them."
"What plans?"
"I'll tell you if you beg me."
"Oooh... You... Fuck you!"
