Her earphones were blasting one of her favourite indie songs as she was clearing her desk. He stood at the opposite end of the room, watching her from the back. He studied the way her work suit fit her small body, how the sleekness of the black contoured her curves and edges.
Either she really liked music or she wanted to avoid talking with him, he could not tell. If it was the latter he had hoped she did not catch his furtive glances. He could not risk her knowing what he wanted to do to her. One wrong move and he could kiss their after work commute arrangement goodbye.
He sometimes wondered if she ever let herself go in the safety of a bedroom, if she ever felt sexual bliss that made her feel alive and free. In the workplace she was always stiff and professional, her voice calm, never a hair out of place. Whenever she started speaking about the documents she drafted there was always a moment where he wanted to push her down, snatch her glasses away and start working on her pussy. He could imagine the wild screaming and the mess he would make out of her hair and makeup.
He was generally a confident man, sometimes too confident. In his youth he would approach women at bars for a one night stand but most of his efforts fell through. He eventually gave up on women until a certain fresh young lawyer entered his firm, and he eventually decided he just had to get his hands on her before it was too late. She made him nervous because she was pretty and he was sure she could have anyone she wanted - soon she would be with a young fool her age and he would be left in the dust.
As they were walking towards his car he tapped on her shoulder to get her attention and then he tapped his ear. She pulled out one earbud and he asked her if she was hungry. Surprised, she said no and pushed it back in.
At some point during the traffic jam she turned off the music and was browsing through her phone with a bored expression on her face. He could not get a glimpse of what she was scrolling through but he knew if he did he would have no idea what he was looking at. Young people and their phones. The interconnectedness of it all.
He was supposed to go north and continue on the main road but he turned right and into a side street. She turned to face him, like he expected. They both said nothing but he could tell she was at least confused. He continued along the road and it was not long until he pulled into his driveway.
"Welcome to my house," he said with a smile.
She opened her mouth to speak but he interrupted by saying "Stay for a while. Have a drink."
He tried not to think about her naked body on his bedsheets while he poured two glasses of whiskey on ice for both of them.
"Did you know that some people drink it hot?" he said. "Could never be me."
She eyed her glass warily and tentatively took a sip. He gulped his down, his eyes never leaving her face. After a few sips she set her glass down. She noticed him staring.
"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" she said.
"Talk? Yes I suppose we could," he replied. "But I think you should take off your clothes first. Get comfortable. And there's no need to be shy."
He saw fear and realization beginning to creep into her eyes. She started to back away from where she was leaning on the kitchen island. The door that led to the garage was on her left and she stared at it as if she was not sure if she should run towards it.
"It's locked," he said. "I have the key in my pocket. Now come here. Let's not turn this into a chase."
She glared at him for a moment and then dashed towards the garage door. It was indeed locked. She gulped and her breathing became shallow. He started walking towards her.
