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It isn’t enough to touch her with my hands. I want my mouth on her. It isn’t enough to get these small sighs. I want her to call out my name. I kiss my way down her neck to her chest and take one of her breasts in my mouth, paying close attention to how each flick of my tongue makes her react. She has her fingers in my hair. Whenever she really likes something, she pulls it harder, and I decide that if I don’t have a headache after this, I haven’t done a good enough job.
“We should’ve done this sooner,” she says when I kiss my way across her chest to her other breast. “I wanted you to invite me over the night we met so we could do just this,” she says. “I’ve been thinking about it every night since we met.”
“I wanted to invite you over,” I murmur.
I’ve been thinking about it every night... I don’t know if it’s what she meant, but an image of her alone in my bed comes to mind. “Do you make yourself come in my bed?”
She seems surprised by the question. I’m about to apologize for asking when she looks me in the eye and says, “Yes.”
I’m half convinced I’m dreaming. “And what do you think about when you’re touching yourself?”
The color rises in her cheeks. “You.”
I brush a hand lightly along one of her knees, and she spreads her legs wider. I tug at her sleep shorts and she lifts her hips so I can slide them off and throw them across the room.
“And what am I doing when you think about me?” I ask.
I touch her over her underwear, and she presses up into my hand. “Fucking me,” she says.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take, but I am willing to find out. “Will you show me?”
“Show you...”
“How you touch yourself. It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just... fuck, I really want to see what you look like when you’re thinking about me.”
“I thought you were my most professional coworker,” she says.
I laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever uttered such nonsense.”
“I have the text messages to prove it.”
“I don’t think so,” I say. “Because the things I want to do to you are very unprofessional.”
She searches my face for a moment. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
She laughs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look more excited, and that’s saying something.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited,” I say.
I move to give her space, but she pulls me back to her and tells me to stay. I can’t be dreaming. I couldn’t come up with a dream this good. I must be dead. If I am, I can’t say I mind.
Raine makes room for me beside her. She drapes one of her legs over my hip and slips her hand into her underwear.
What if...
Fuck off.
But...
She said she trusts me. She promised she’d tell me if she didn’t want to do something.
But what if...
Fuck off. Fuck off. Fuck off. Fuck off. And then, because I really, really just need to be able to enjoy this, I think,undo, undo, undo, undo.
I watch as she strokes herself in small circles, and I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve this, but I hope that whatever it is, I do it again. I’m unsure where to keep my focus. All of her is beautiful. Her face, the movement of her hand, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath she takes.
