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Her breath hitches, and now it’s my turn to grin because I just caught Avery staring at my arms once again. Biting her bottom lip, she gently shakes her head to get out of whatever it was she was just thinking about. I have an idea of what that was. I get a sick pleasure out of having her stare at me. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
She sets up the different samples and gets comfortable nearby. I follow her naturally.
I can’t help but look back on our transformation. What started as her sitting in the chair across from my desk during that first week has turned into her and me leaning against my office walls on the ground with our samples strewn everywhere.
We are currently sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, and I hate to admit how comforting it is.
Every time my arm brushes against hers, she takes a deep inhale like it’s almost too much. I know the feeling all too fucking well. These stolen touches are beginning to not be enough anymore.
I’m craving to deepen the intimacy we’ve created. I want more, and I’m beginning to think I need more. I don’t know what it will mean for either of us if I decide to take the next step.
Avery has made me start to feel again.
Getting to know her during this time together has been different from any relationship I’ve ever had with a woman before. I dated in college, but nothing serious. Then, in my twenties, I was just about getting laid.
I know she feels the energy that sizzles between us every day we’re together. It’s getting harder to ignore the small moments that add up to everything. The collection of the everyday life that we’ve begun to build together.
The way she laughs at my jokes, hums in approval when she likes some things I’ve picked for the gala, and shows she cares when she listens intently whenever I tell her a story.
I’m beginning to be a fucking sap.
Fuck. She’s doing something powerful to me.
“What are you staring at?” she says, looking up at me with a grin.
Avery bumps her shoulder into mine playfully.
“You.”
She blushes in response.
“I think we are finally almost there,” she continues under my gaze.
“Sunday will probably be the last time I need to come here for gala planning. Everything else after that, Patricia will be able to handle,” she finishes.
We both understand what Avery is implying right now. Our time is almost up.
“Sunday. We have Sunday,” I say, almost trying to reassure us both that we have time to still make our decision. A decision that neither of us should even be entertaining.
“Yes.”
Gazing at each other longingly isn’t helping either of us right now. We don’t want whatever this is to end, but without the gala, we have no reason to see each other this frequently. I have to come up with something, anything, to keep seeing her like this.
I crave her laughs and smiles; they feel like they are mine to have and mine alone.
In our time together, I haven’t wanted to ask her about her marriage. It’s felt like an invisible line we both weren’t going to cross. I know she’s figuring out her plans to leave him, but that’s it. I’m not going to make her an adulterer, not when that scum already is one.
Her mouth is parted just slightly, and I want to consume it to make her mine. My cock is stirring to life at the sight of those pouty lips begging to be used.
“Thank you for all the help you’ve given me. I couldn’t have done this without you,” I start.
“You know that, right?”
The question I ask hangs heavily in the air.
One thing that has stuck with me since the altercation with Missy several weeks ago is how beaten down it came across that Avery has been treated.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it all, but I want to make sure she knows how wonderful of a person she is. A perfect creature who deserves the world.
