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There’s a question in the back of my head. I know we’re only two weeks into this, but it pops out. “Could you love me again?”
She draws in a quick, sharp gasp.
“No lube? Just right in there asking tough questions without warm-up. That’s not like you. You’re more considerate than that.” She laughs.
“Also, quick aside, are you less angry at me now?”
“You still want to come on my ass?” She draws her legs up to sit lotus position.
I grin and nod wildly. “Very much.”
She shrugs. “We’ll see.”
“Cool. Circling back to loving me.”
She scoots against the back rest of the chair, and I take the other one, mirroring her position. She’s wearing these little black and pink polka dot pajama shorts that make her stems look long. They drive me fucking wild. I cross my arms and wait for her to answer.
She asks, “Is that where we’re heading?”
A breeze kicks up and my papers start to scatter. She moves to grab them and I bend down to retrieve the ones that have fallen. I sit on the ground and lean against the side of the building. She’s still collecting the papers. She’s avoiding my question. It might kill me if we don’t move forward. If she doesn’t see us beyond whoever gets this fucking job. If we don’t define who we are to each other before the client meeting, we’ll never make it past that. The clock is ticking. I know all about her work life from the last five years, but I don’t know almost anything personal. I need to work on that. Of course, I’ll have to open up more about shit. I’m not used to doing that.
She sees me sitting and drops down on her butt. Her legs are out in front of her and I pull them onto my lap.
“Seems too good to be true,” she says.
“We’re owed this.” I run my hand up her leg.
“I guess we are.”
I say, “But I get it. I’m a bit jumpy. What happens on the other side of this month? How do we handle one of us being unemployed?”
She doesn’t hesitate. “We face it together.”
BETTE
I set up our laptops back-to-back for the weekly directors check-in meeting. He runs his hand over his face, then his stubble. I know what he’s thinking and I pull his hands off his face. “Don’t even think about it. The stubble stays.”
He pulls me to him. “Someone likes a little sandpaper action?”
“Well, today it’s soft, and um, there are certain parts of me that like the scratch a bit. Shave later.”
He winks at me. “I’m Italian, it will come back.”
“You’re also Irish and it doesn’t come back fast enough for me.” He grins. The black hair that frames his luscious mouth makes me very, very happy. And turned on.
He settles across from me. “How the fuck do we do this without telling each other our pitches?”
“I don’t know. Rinaldi put the call together.” I grab a pen and start flipping the cap.
He leans over both computers. “Fine. You have your call while I suck an orgasm out of you.” He raises his eyes. He can’t get enough, but I’m insatiable, too.
I say, “We’ll have to use our avatars.” I raise my eyebrows at him. Then I laugh. He’s insane.
He grins. “I will. I fucking dare you to go live while I eat you out.”
I shake my head. “Intriguing offer.”
He says, “Let’s go, the meeting started.”
