Pinned to the Pine

"Hey Gwen, I have a favor to ask. I know you were not brought in for hardware and this is way beneath your paygrade, but there's a big project being held up by this tech ticket and they're breathing down my neck since it's a Friday. Would you please look at it for me real quick? It's just a corrupted file."

Repressing a sigh, I nod at the bank's IT director who is standing in the doorway of my cubicle. "Sure, Mike. I'd be happy to." I accepted this consulting gig for the challenge of working on the bank's cyber-security, not to work on cranky desktops for impatient suits.

But the consulting firm hired me on after years out of IT, a rare thing in this field, mainly based on my network of outstanding references. They took a chance on my past reputation, trained me then flew me to Atlanta for this job, and I need to build a new network of contacts to survive in the consulting world.

I look at the ticket. Jeff H., 22nd floor. Well at least the view will be nice, I think.

I stop by the bathroom to make sure I look presentable. Glad I wore this color today, I think as I smooth my sky blue silk blouse. It's just fitted enough to be flattering on my full chest, yet still professional, and it makes my blue eyes pop. I'm glad I blow-dried my shoulder-length blonde hair, tinged with 'wisdom hi-lites' that I'm proud of. My hair has held up well despite the Atlanta humidity.

I turn for a back view in the mirror and grin. Well if nothing else, this skirt makes my ass look good. With that little bit of confidence to buoy me against the new-job nerves, I head for the elevator.

In the elevator, I wonder if I should have called first. I don't know what the normal process is for a tech ticket. Well, it can't hurt to respond quickly and in person.

I find the office and knock on the door. A pleasant, slightly deep voice answers, "Come in." I open the door and feel slightly confused as Jeff turns around in his chair and looks at me, equally quizzical. I was expecting a balding, overweight, huffy exec in an expensive suit, but instead facing me is an attractive man about my own age with a smart beard, wearing a crisp button-down shirt, well-fitting jeans, and tennis shoes. Well, that's a pleasant surprise, I think.

"Can I help you?" he asks, politely but with a bit of a smirk, noticing my confusion. He makes direct eye contact, and I notice deep brown eyes behind dark intelligent glasses. Uh-oh. The kind of eyes you could get lost in. You're here to work, Gwen, I remind myself.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Haley, I'm Gwen. I'm consulting for IT. They sent me to look at a desktop with a tech ticket, said it was urgent. I can come back if it's not a good time..."

"No, not at all. I'll be happy for you to look at it. And please, call me Jeff. Why don't you sit here?" He offers me his chair in front of the computer. The chair is warm from his body. He sits on the edge of his desk beside me. He crosses his legs at the ankles, and I can tell there are muscular legs under those jeans.

"Here, I'll show you the problem." As he leans over to press a few keys, I'm struck by his athletic build. He's about 6 foot, I'd guess. I think of my own 5'4" height. He'd have to lean down to kiss me. The thought excites me. I notice his shoulders, strong and masculine, enjoying the way his shirt accentuates them. I feel more interested in this ticket and less begrudging. He makes the shirt and the jeans look good.

"See, this is what it does. I've tried re-booting. I've tried disconnecting from the network and then re-connecting. It will open all the other client files, just not this one." He points to the hourglass icon perpetually loading over the file in question. "I really need to get into this file because the client is impatient for feedback and the deadline is fast approaching."

"Can we just pull the most recent copy from your backup?" I ask.

"God I hope not." He crosses his arms, and I notice his forearms. I have a sudden image of his forearms supporting his weight on top of me, and I am shocked. I don't usually think naughty thoughts about someone I've just met. This job just keeps getting more interesting. "The backups sync first thing in the morning, but I've worked on this all day, and I can't afford to lose this work. We're already behind on the deadline." His brow furrows in stress, and I realize, I want to make him feel better. I almost reach out to touch his arm but it seems like too much.

"Well let me see what I can do, Jeff. Would you prefer I worked here or took it back to my floor? I don't want to be in your way." I kind of hope he wants me to stay.

"You're just fine," he smiles. His brow relaxes. He's quite handsome. "If you don't mind working here, you won't bother me. And that way I can pull up other files if, you know, a, um, client calls," he adds, almost nervously. Is he making excuses for me to stay?

"No problem, I'm happy to help," I reply as I turn back to the computer. He crosses to sit in another chair a few feet away and begins to work on his phone. I start working down the list of possible solutions. I feel a few butterflies in my stomach, and a wave of goosebumps on my arms, at his presence just a few feet away. Wow, the effect he's having on me is intense, I think.

A few minutes of quiet work pass, and then he asks, "So are you filling in for Chris today?"

"Chris?" I ask.

"Usually Chris handles all the tech tickets for this floor. Nice guy, good at his job, but I won't lie, you're a lot easier on the eye than he is," he chuckles.

I feel a deep red blush creeping up into my face at his compliment. Being fair skinned, I've always blushed easily, and it can be so embarrassing. "Oh that's kind of you. Actually I'm not an employee. I was just brought in to consult on cyber-security. But there was a miscommunication and the project team won't assemble until Monday. Mike was short-handed, so he volunteered me to fill in."

His brow furrows again. Thinking he must be questioning having a non-employee work on his issue, I quickly add, "But I do, um, know what I'm doing, I promise. It's just not my, you know, normal role."

He smiles a little at my nervous response. "Gwen, I wasn't doubting your ability." My heart skips a beat hearing his voice say my name. "It just irks me when they do that just because someone's fighting a fire."

"That's very kind of you. But I'm honestly happy to have something to do," I reply. "Plus I thought it couldn't hurt to have friends on the 22nd floor." That sounded silly.

"Hahaha," he chuckles. "Well you have a friend now. IT is not my area of expertise, but I've worked here for 20 years and I know a lot of people. Feel free to reach out if you have any problems finding your way around or dealing with the politics or anything."

"Thanks, Jeff," I reply. "I will definitely keep your offer in mind." My mind is already wondering what excuse I could make to reach out soon. I can't think of anything else to say, and I'm afraid the blush that has faded will return, so I smile at him and return to working on the computer. I'm on my third troubleshooting idea now, and a little worried that I will disappoint him by not being able to fix it. It would be nice to see a happy grin on his handsome face.

Halfway through my fourth attempt, I feel his presence right beside me. I was so intent on my work that I didn't hear him get up from his chair. Now he's sitting on the desk beside me again. Not uncomfortably close, but close enough to convey a little more than professional interest. I feel the blush creeping in again.

"I'm going to grab a coke from the break room and stretch my legs. Can I get you a drink?"

"I'd love a diet coke, thanks," I reply.

"It's the least I can do," he says. "Any luck, by the way?"

Now it's my turn to wrinkle my brow. "Not yet," I admit.

"No worries, I'm confident you'll figure it out," he says. His fingers lightly brush my upper arm as he steps out of the room. I watch him walk away. He looks just as good from the back as from the front. Good thing he's gone, because the blush reaches up to my face as the goosebumps return to my arms. Even my nipples are reacting. God, this guy is really having an effect on me. I wonder if he feels the chemistry too.

He returns after about 10 minutes with a cold Diet Coke. I thank him and am glad for the cold drink to guard against any more hotness in my face. My throat and lips even feel a little dry from nervousness. I sip a little and continue working. After trying what's I think the seventh trouble-shooting idea I've had, suddenly the file opens. It is a huge spreadsheet with thousands of rows. "Does this look like the current version?" I ask.

He crosses quickly to look it over, placing his left hand on the back of my chair. In his excitement he leans in toward the screen, his face only a few inches from mine, and clicks a few keys, checking some of the values. "YES! That's it!" he almost shouts. Standing up, he runs the fingers of both hands through his hair in a gesture of relief, and I wonder what it would feel like to do the same. "Thank goodness, all that work is not lost!"

I am beaming with pride that I solved the issue, made him look so happy, and helped his day get better as well. He seems relieved, like a pressure is off.

"OK this is great!" He glances at his watch. "Say, can I buy you lunch, to say thank you? There's a great Mexican place across the street."

"That's not necessary, but it does sounds fun," I answer. "I am pretty hungry."

We walk out of the office together and toward the elevator. He asks me questions about what I did before this job, how long I'll be in the area, what I like to do outside of work. His questions are pleasant, perceptive, but not pushy. He listens intently to my answers and makes a lot of eye contact. Damn, those eyes. I have to focus on answering the questions because I'm in danger of getting lost in his eyes. Before I know it we've arrived at the restaurant. He's so easy to talk to. I feel a connection between us. This day just keeps getting better.

"Hi, Jeff," the cute redheaded waitress greets him.

"Hi, Anne," he replies. She's not wearing a name tag. He seems to understand that calling people by name makes them feel good. He seems genuine when he talks to people, not just me. "This is my friend Gwen. She's consulting at the bank and I wanted to introduce her to the best lunch on this block," he grins.

We order quickly and go back to chatting easily, as if we were old friends. Every once in a while I stammer nervously, but mostly I keep my cool. Sometimes he goes on a little too long on a topic, and I think he might be a little nervous too. I find it endearing.

By the time lunch is over, we have realized we have quite a bit in common, and it's obvious to both of us that we really hit it off. He touches my hand as I laugh a little too loudly at his dry joke at the bank president's expense, and he notices my goosebumps. "Are you cold?" he asks. "They do keep the air on high in here. We can find a table away from the vents if you'd like."

"I'm not cold," I giggle nervously. My voice sounds huskier than usual. "You just seem to have this effect on me."

"Well I'm glad I'm not the only that's feeling something here," he answers. "I'm really glad you came to my office today. Gwen, I have to go back and finish up that file for our client, but can I take you out for a drink after work?"

"I'd love that," I answer. I'm grinning ear to ear.

"Great," he says, "can I text you when I'm wrapping up? I'm usually out of here by 5:30 on a Friday." We exchange numbers and then walk back to the office building. We take the elevator to my floor and as I step out, his fingers reach for my arm and trace lightly from my elbow to my wrist as I walk away. Crazy how such a seemingly innocent touch can stir this feeling in my stomach, and sweeping lower. Fuuuuck, he turns me on. I'm in deep here.

Back in my cubicle, I try to stay busy and keep glancing at the clock, willing 5:30 to arrive. In the mid-afternoon, I get a text: "Gwen, I'm so grateful you fixed this file. Looks like I'm going to be able to finish today, and the client is happy. I hope your afternoon is going well. See you soon." I smile a little goofily at the phone and re-read the text a half-dozen times. I check my emails, read a few articles, then read the text again. He's as sweet as he is sexy. Smart too, I think.

Finally 5:00 rolls around. I make another trip to the bathroom, fuss with my hair, put on fresh lipstick, pop in a stick of gum, debate over whether to unbutton one more button on my blouse, and decide to go for it. Just when I get back to my desk, my phone vibrates. "I'm done for the day. Met the deadline, thanks to you!! Whenever you're ready, let me know. No rush. Meet in the lobby?"

"I'm done for the day. too See you in 10?" I text back. I don't want to seem too eager. I feel a shiver up and down my spine, and little fingers of the shiver reach to my nipples and between my legs. I have a hunch I'll be feeling a lot more sensations tonight. I gather my purse and hurry to the elevator. I try to be nonchalant as the doors open into the lobby. He's standing there waiting, looking at his phone. He looks up as I approach and flashes me a big smile. What a beautiful smile.

"Hey Gwen. It's good to see you again. I was thinking about this bar a few blocks way. I go there sometimes for happy hour. That sound ok?"

"Sure, I trust your judgement," I grin.

"Maybe you shouldn't," he smirks. "Maybe I'm a creep who just preys on attractive women who come to fix my tech tickets. Oh wait, that's never happened before!" Even his smirk is sexy.

The walk to the bar feels like seconds. Time spent with him passes so quickly. We sit at the bar and order. Both of us have our bodies turned towards each other. He touches my knee briefly, just a little brush. "I'm so glad I met you today," he says. "And not because you fixed that file, although that was great too. It's just nice to meet someone that's smart and easy to talk to, and you seem to get me. Not to mention someone as attractive as you. I was really surprised when you knocked at my door."

"Me too," I laugh. I tell him who I was expecting to find, and he laughs loudly.

"So are you disappointed?" he asks softly, looking into my eyes, his hand returning to my knee, lingering this time. His touch on my bare skin gives me an intense chill. I try to hide it, but he notices.

"Cold again?" he smirks knowingly.

"You seem to have an effect on me," I giggle. I'm surprised at how breathy my voice sounds.

"The feeling is mutual," he says. I love how voice sounds deeper when he says something more intimate.

I realize I have barely touched my drink. I'm almost afraid too. I feel intoxicated already, just from his presence. He finishes his drink, and asks if I didn't like mine. "No, it's good, I'm just nervous I think. It's been awhile since I've been on a date. I mean," I stammer, "if this counts as a date."

He chuckles. "I sure hope it does." He pauses, as if he's trying to figure something out. "Would you like to see something? There's a beautiful park downtown. I like to go there sometimes when the weather's nice. We can drive separately, or we could take my car if you like."

"Let's go in yours. I have a feeling your car is more exciting than mine," I laugh, thinking of my unsexy van.

"Just a Kia Stinger. It is fun, but not that exciting."

"I think it sounds fun," I reply. He pays the bartender and we walk back to his car. We walk close together, elbows brushing, feeling the electricity between us.

I feel a little thrill when I see his car. Driving a bulky van like I do, I don't pass judgement on people for their cars. But his looks fast, fun. He opens the door for me, a sweet gesture. He drives a little faster than he should, but that only adds to the growing excitement within me.

As he drives to the park, he rests his hand on my knee. I feet the warm sensations spread from his hand to my stomach, to my nipples, between my legs. As we drove, he moves his hand just a little higher until the heel of his hand and several fingers are resting on my thigh. I put my hand on his, and his fingers open and draw mine in between his. Holding hands, with my hand on top of his. It's a sweet gesture that made my heart beat faster. "Is it bad that I just met you today..." his voice trails off.

"And?" I ask.

"And I really want to kiss you?" he finishes. I'm not sure in the dark but it looks like he's blushing a little.

My voice is slightly husky as I answer, "Not since I want you to."

He pulls over to the curb and parks. It's all buildings, no park in sight. "Are we here?" I ask, confused.

"No, I just wanted to kiss you." The hand that has been on my thigh reaches gently for my face as I turn towards him. He smooths my hair back from my face and leans in to kiss me gently. He doesn't kiss me fully. Just my upper lip. His lips are so warm. He tastes good. My body floods with warmth. I kiss him back, sweetly, gently. His mouth moves to cover mine and presses ever so slightly harder. His tongue gently parts my lips and traces the inside of my them. I open my mouth and kiss him back. My hand goes to his face, fingers gently parting his beard and tracing the skin. His tongue grows more assertive, reaching deeper, swirling with mine, but still sweetly.

Damn, he's a good kisser, I think. It has been a long time since someone has kissed me and I have enjoyed it, have wanted to kiss them back.

Eventually he pulls gently away. I sigh involuntarily, "Don't stop."

"Hmmm," he chuckles softly. "I'm not stopping. I'm just pausing for a moment so we can get to our destination." He kisses me softly, lips tugging at only my bottom lip, then turns his attention back to the steering wheel. I melt back into my seat and stare out the window, wondering what this night holds in store. I feel warm and aroused. I can't believe how turned on I am from just a kiss.

"You OK over there?" he wonders as his fingers trace my knee.

"Oh yeah," I reply, turning toward him. "I'm just, um, thinking about what a good kisser you are." I giggle. He just smiles back at me and reaches for my hand.

Soon we arrive at the park. It's beautiful, even in the dusk. The streetlights are beginning to come on. "Would you like to take a walk with me?"

"Of course," I answer. He softly slides his hand into mine, his fingers reaching between mine. It's a sweet romantic gesture, but feeling him against the sensitive skin between my fingers makes me think of him between my legs. I feel a familiar ache. I'm wet too. I felt how wet I was when I stood up out of the car. We walk for a while in an expectant silence. I'm aware of my heart beating wildly in my chest.

"I like to come here on rides," he eventually breaks the silence. I remember talking about cycling over drinks. No wonder his build looks athletic. Not over the top, not like a body builder, that would be intimidating. Just healthy and active and sexy, damn sexy. "Sometimes I park here and enjoy the park for a little while before I start back." He indicates the park bench we're approaching.

He leads me to it, sitting down, tugging softly on my hand to bring me closer to him as I sit too. He lets go of my hand to put his right arm around my shoulders. I feel a thrill at his embrace. His left hand gently traces my kneecap closest to him. He leans in to kiss me again. He starts off just as sweetly, tugging lightly at my upper lip. Feeling my lips respond, he covers my mouth with his and presses harder. Much harder. His tongue explores my lips, my tongue, brushing lightly over my teeth. Everything he does feels so good. My mouth responds to every motion. My breathing quickens. I sigh a little as his hand trails higher up my leg, lightly tracing the bare skin up to the edge of my skirt but not entering.