Fire and Ice

She was fire and ice. Something I never thought I would get my hands on and yet wanted immensely. I should have listened to my mother when she said what we wanted wasn't always what we needed. Still I felt like somewhere inside of me I needed her and maybe, just maybe she needed me too. You think I would have known better. A woman like that needs no one.

"I would like to introduce you all to our new VP of advertising," my boss and longtime friend Sylvia Prescott spoke loudly over the chaos of the work floor, "Everyone this is Clare Jennings."

There was a round of hello's as she waved at the room. I would have greeted her as well if the Sahara hadn't suddenly taken up residence in my mouth. Clare Jennings was gorgeous. She stood every bit of five foot eight in her heels. Long red hair hung in curls around her shoulders and covered the top of a crisp blue blouse with two buttons undone, it gave a glimpse of full breasts and a slim waist. On bottom, she was wearing a black pencil skirt that clung to her hips and had legs that went on for miles. I sighed as she smiled the kind of smile that reminded you of a naughty teacher who wore garters and stockings beneath her ankle length twill skirts.

It was like magic the way our eyes met or at least that's how it felt to me. It was after the initial introduction as she and Sylvia turned to walk back toward the main offices. Clare turned back around for some reason, maybe she heard a sound or maybe she could feel my eyes on her rear end. Either way her eyes locked with mine and I couldn't help myself. I smirked and leaned back in my seat with a cocky expression on my face. I know I'm attractive. I have brown hair that reaches my shoulders and deep brown eyes. I'm trim and toned and I carry myself like I'm untouchable. It's the mystery that draws most people in I'm told, I think it's my breasts but what do I know.

Now that I think about it, the whole thing could have backfired, and I could have found myself signing the dotted line of a sexual harassment lawsuit, but I was lucky that day. Clare looked at me from head to toe and back again before winking and continuing her way. Unless my eyes deceived me, there was an extra sway to her hips.

I didn't see her again until the next day. Walking into the building, I was heading for my cubicle when someone grabbed my arm and pulled me around a corner. Swallowing my shriek, I smacked my attacker in the arm and huffed, "Jesus Sylvia, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

She at least had the decency to look apologetic, "I'm hiding," she whispered as though the entire building would hear her.

Lowering my voice, I mocked her, "Hiding from whom?"

It was Sylvia's turn to hit me on the arm, "This is serious. I'm hiding from George."

I paused and narrowed my eyes, "George - George? From Accounting George?" At her guilty look I groaned, "Oh Sylvie, tell me you didn't."

"One gin and tonic too much Alex," she admitted, a blush tingling her cheeks, "Help me."

"Ugh, alright," I conceded, "I can get you to your office but what are you going to do then?"

"I've got Clare all day, so I won't have time to visit with him should he come by," she grinned proudly.

"And when Clare no longer acts as your shield?" I inquired.

Sylvia shrugged, "Crossing that bridge when we get to it."

Sylvia and I started toward her office, I was dying to know all the details about what had transpired with George, but that questioning was cut short as half way there we were joined in our journey.

"Good morning ladies," Clare said as she sidled up beside us, our gazes instantly locked and once again I found myself at a loss of words. Extending her hand toward me, she smiled, "I don't think I've had the pleasure."

I'd never been more grateful that Sylvia was a type A personality more in my life, as she spoke before I could find my voice, "Clare, this is Alexandra Weston. Alex, Clare Jennings."

"Nice to meet you," Clare replied shaking my hand.

The skin of her hand was soft, but her handshake was anything but delicate. There was strength there that had me wondering about the other parts of her. She clearly had toned arms, based on the muscle definition on display by her sleeveless top. I had no doubts about the strength of her legs from walking in heels all day. I was much more concerned about the strength of her thighs, specifically locked around my head while amid orgasm.

Clearing my throat, I nodded, "Likewise," at least I had managed that much.

I hadn't realized we had started walking again or that I had fallen slightly behind until my gaze once again found itself glued to Clare's backside. How could I be blamed? It was magnificent and the skirt she wore today was the kind with the slit up the back, every step I received just a glimpse of inner thigh. No garter belt but definite thigh high stockings.

"What do you think Alex?"

My gaze flew up at the intrusion of my name and I found myself the center of two gazes. One that expected an answer to a question I had no idea of and the other amused and knowing. I wasn't sure which one I was more terrified of facing.

"I'm sorry, I was in my own world," I smiled deprecatingly, "What did you ask Sylvia?"

Opening her mouth to speak, Sylvia cringed as George was suddenly beside her requesting a word. Glancing at Clare and I, she made her excuses, "I would love to George but I'm just in the middle of something and then Clare and I are going to jump head first into the new quarter."

"We've got a few minutes before we need to get started," Clare interjected with a smile as her gaze landed back on me, "I'm sure Alex wouldn't mind keeping me company until you return."

"Sure," I nodded apologetically at Sylvia who smiled tightly and walked off with a smiling George. Turning back to Clare, I swallowed as she smirked, "So, where were you before -."

I cut my question short as she stepped closer and leaned over to whisper in my ear, "You want to fuck me." Standing back to her full height she laughed softly at the blush on my cheeks and deer caught in headlights look on my face, "You're not very subtle," she added pushing her hair behind her ear.

"I um," for a Communications Coordinator I wasn't fairing very well in the talking department recently and found myself once more silenced as Clare turned on her heel and began walking toward her office.

"Come," she stated over her shoulder and like a puppy following its master, I followed.

Entering her office, I had seconds to look around as she closed the door before she was on me. Slim fingers tangled in my hair as her lips met mine. I could do nothing but cling to her as she took charge, her tongue slipping into my mouth devoured every brain cell I had left, and I was putty in her hands. The bite to my lower lip kick started my libido and Clare found her back thudding against the backside of her office door.

A low moan escaped her throat as my left hand found her throat and I pushed her back from me, "That hurt," I scolded holding her there as her eyes rolled slightly upward. I realized in that moment, Clare liked it a little rough, she liked when her partner took control and that I could easily accomplish. Pushing her hair behind her ear again, I leaned in and kissed her hungrily. My hand left her throat and traveled across her collarbone and down her sternum before palming her breast atop her blouse. Clare moaned, I could feel her nipple harden beneath my hand and squeezed a little harder. I wasn't man handling her, don't get me wrong, I know how much women hate when their breasts are treated harshly but Clare liked it a little rougher than most women, so I gave her what she wanted.

"Alex," she whispered against my mouth, "We don't have all day."

She was right, I had lost myself in kissing her, but we didn't have all day. Rucking up the side of her skirt with my right hand, I assured her, "I usually like a little more foreplay," before slipping my hand into her panties and the heat awaiting me there. Two fingers, knuckle deep, had the hand she still had in my hair tightening to almost painful as her head dropped into the crook of my shoulder to muffle her groan.

Clare whimpered as her free hand clutched my other shoulder when I began thrusting. I'd always been good with my hands, although I preferred a strap-on if I wasn't using my mouth, and this time was no different. Clare was biting into my shoulder to remain quiet as I slammed my fingers in and out of her at a punishing pace. The door, although solidly fit, was quietly groaning and I was certain had she not let go at that exact moment to cling to my neck, I wouldn't have any hair remaining behind my head. I twisted my fingers on a deep thrust and Clare shook as she came, "Oh...god," she moaned against my ear as I slowed but continued to thrust into her as shock-waves rippled through her, "Fuck."

Lifting her head, Clare kissed me again, more subdued than before as she had very little energy left but passionately none the less. Removing my fingers from inside her, I felt her shudder and lifted them toward my mouth only for Clare to intercept them with her own. I stared at her as she took them deep into her mouth and hummed at her own flavor. I felt my knees buckle and groaned in want as she released them with a soft pop and licked her lips. Grasping her hair, I pulled her to me and licked the inside of her mouth as we kissed wantonly.

I would have initiated another round if we hadn't heard the door to Sylvia's office open across the hall. Pulling back, I rested my hands on the door either side of her head and inhaled her exhaled breath. Leaning down, she pecked my lips once more before gently pushing me away from her. I watched her walk to her desk, adjusting her clothes along the way, before extracting a mirror from her top drawer and fixing her hair and makeup.

Glancing up at me, she smiled softly before glancing at the door, "You may go."

"What?" I asked shocked by the abrupt dismissal.

"I have work to do as I'm sure you do as well," she stated matter of factually while grabbing a stack of folders off her desk, "So," she tilted her head toward the door.

"Right," I couldn't contain my scoff, "Wow."

"Oh, Alex," she called as I went to pull the door open and even after her complete one-eighty in attitude I paused, "Don't get any ideas about what this was, you wanted me, and I wanted to be fucked. End of story."

I didn't spare her another glance as I stormed from her office. She was right, end of story. Or was it?