By the time Charlotte gets back to the offices of Amelia Domineck it’s nearly 6:30 and she sighs, exhausted from fighting the crowds and the traffic. Only Amelia would send her to Times Square at five o’clock on a Friday to handle some problem with the wedding announcement in the Times. The front office is quiet and dim, the computer screens of her co-workers dark, and she wonders how long ago they’d left.
She drops her purse next to her desk chair and falls into it, tipping her head back and closing her eyes, waiting. Amelia and Justin were at some kind of tasting, wedding cake, wedding catering, wedding wine. Wedding, wedding, wedding, Charlotte can’t help but think bitterly, bringing a hand up to rub at her temple.
The past week had been like a time-warp, that Justin had never confessed any feelings of doubt or entrapment, that he had never vowed to turn things around. The determination he had shown after making that decision a little over a month ago had disappeared so suddenly it was almost as if it was never even there to begin with. He had slipped quietly back into that sunny ambivalence he’d been trying so hard to break from and while he seemed not to have a care in the world, Charlotte couldn’t help but notice that his smiles came fewer and farther between these days.
His devil-may-care attitude was not lost on Amelia. She was cautious in the beginning, almost gentle, and Charlotte had thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d really gotten through to her. Maybe he had. But with every “whatever you want, babe” she began to realize that she had won. She had broken him and Charlotte was thoroughly disgusted at the triumphant look on her face every time Justin caved.
Sometimes she wonders if it was all just a dream, that her desire to see him stand up for himself had fabricated his recent actions in her mind, but then she remembers the look on his face when he had asked her what kind of life he had now, the slight break in his voice when he had asked her where the music was.
She shakes her head sitting forward in her chair and flicking her little desk lamp on before swirling her mouse, the screen of her computer glowing to life. It’s not her concern how Justin acts towards his fiancé. She works for Amelia and not him and while she and Justin’s relationship isn’t strictly professional but friends’ didn’t necessarily fit their description either. But she still can’t help the quiet boil inside of her when Amelia snaps at him, or tricks him, or does any of the other backhanded things that she does to him. Charlotte and Justin could never really be friends, but Charlotte can’t help but want to protect him as if they were.
She sighs, flopping back against her chair, noting the time in the right hand corner of her screen. 6:45. She has no clue why Amelia had asked her to wait for her and she’s slightly peeved that she’s stuck here this late on a Friday night. Not that she has anywhere to be or any exciting plans for the evening.
Lately her life has been a hapless routine. Get up. Go to work. Go home. Order take out. Watch TV. Go to sleep. Then do it all over again the next day. It doesn’t really bother her most days. But then there were some days, like on Fridays when she was still at the office at 6:50 waiting for her boss and her fiancé to get back from their glamorous wedding planning extravaganza, that she really wished she had more of a life. Or maybe just someone to share in her boredom. Someone to sit and watch TV with, to read the Sunday paper with, to lay in bed with on rainy days and listen to the noise of the city.
Her head snaps up as she hears voices coming down the hall, muffled through the door but she hears the annoyance lacing one while the other is soft and apologetic. The door opens then and Amelia breezes inside, her face set in a scowl as she struggles to unbutton her coat, her blond hair tussled and her cheeks wind-burned. Justin follows behind her, his expression weary as he reaches to pull his fiancé’s coat from her shoulders and hangs it on the rack next to Charlotte’s.
“Amelia, it was just the tasting-”
“It was horrendous!” Amelia exclaims, turning towards him and Justin sighs, shrugging out of his own coat. “for what we’re paying for this is unacceptable. The duck was gamey-”
“It’s a game bird, Amelia-”
“-the sauce was gelatinous-”
“The sauce was fine-” Justin sighs and Amelia turns to him.
“You didn’t like it!”
“I DON’T LIKE DUCK!” he yells finally and Charlotte sinks lower in her chair, chewing on her bottom lip slowly. Justin takes a deep calming breath. “It was fine. You made your suggestions and we have an appointment for another tasting next week.” He reaches out, holding her at her upper arms, running his hands up and down her biceps before reaching up to hook a finger under her chin. “It’s gonna be okay.”
Amelia’s face untenses slowly and she lets out a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly as she pats his chest. “Fine. I guess,” she tenses again. “I just hate incompetence.”
She bristles as she turns towards her office and that’s when she notices Charlotte for the first time, her eyes showing slight surprise but then her face is blank.
“Did you get that taken care of at the Times?” she asks as she breezes past her desk and Charlotte scrambles out of her chair, following Amelia into her office.
“Yes, they changed the last paragraph like you’d asked,” Charlotte says, nodding her head, her hands smoothing subconsciously down the sides of her pants, wondering if they’re wrinkled. Amelia hates that.
“Good,” Amelia says, falling into her desk chair, reaching for some brochures at the edge of her desk. “Just…water the plants and then I guess you can go.” She flicks her hand uninterestedly and Charlotte fights the urge to roll her eyes.
When she turns she comes face to face with Justin, standing in the doorway, his eyes immediately snapping up and she gets the distinct feeling he was looking at her ass. She can feel herself blush slightly as she gives him a small smile moving to step past him into the outer office.
“Excuse me,” she says softly, turning sideways to slip through the door, her breasts brushing his chest slightly as she passes and he can feel his mouth go slightly dry. New Mexico…Santa Fe.
He watches her as she makes her way over to the small cabinet in the corner, her hair falling over her shoulders in chestnut waves. The leather of her cropped jacket is soft and brown over the white pleated tank hanging loosely underneath. A braided belt cinches her waist, showing off the ample curve of her hips accentuated by the contoured waist and wide legs of her heather gray linen pants. He can barely see the toes of the chocolate brown ballet flats on her feet but his eyes don’t linger there long, traveling back up her legs.
The past week had been a slight blur, his thoughts a jumbled mess inside his head and he wished to god he had the brainpower to figure it all out. Since his birthday he couldn’t get her off his mind and the preoccupation had only gotten worse as the week progressed. He found himself watching the clock, wondering if or when she would drop by with china pattern samples or colorful honeymoon brochures. When she did show up he was nervous, his stomach in knots and the guilt accompanied with these feelings consumed him. He was walking a tightrope of emotion teetering between guilt and excitement. It’d been a long time since he’d felt this way about someone, since he’d gotten the little flutter in his stomach when she walked in a room, since-
“Justin, are you listening to me?” Amelia snaps, breaking his train of thought and Justin presses his lips together, slipping his hands in his pockets and his head snaps back, forcing a smile at his fiancé as the guilt burns in his throat.
“Yeah,” he says, stepping back into her office. “Yeah sorry babe, what were you saying?”
“I was asking you to look at these,” Amelia says with a sigh, nudging some brochures towards the edge of her desk and he slips his hands out of his pockets, reaching to pick one up.
A beautiful picture of a small European village nestled around a horseshoe shaped bay adorns the cover. Fishing boats dot the blue-green water and palm trees hang over the road curving near the waters edge.
“South of France?” he questions and Amelia nods.
“For the honeymoon. I figured we could do Paris first, then spend the rest of the time in Daddy’s château near Monaco. I already talked to him about it and he and mother will be there around July so we can just spend the rest of the summer with them and-”
“You want to spend our honeymoon with your parents?” Justin asks his brows creasing as he looks up from the brochure.
“Well, not with them but they’d be there,” Amelia says waving a hand disinterestedly. “It’s also really close to Italy so we could maybe spend a few days in Milan and-”
“That chateau only has two bedrooms,” Justin interrupts and Amelia blinks back at him. “They’re right next to each other.”
“So?” Amelia says after a moment and Justin lets out a humorless laugh, dropping the brochure back onto her desk.
Of course. How silly of him to think that they’d be having sex on their honeymoon. His chest feels tight as he turns away from her, trying to compose himself, to push down the bitterness and his eyes fall on Charlotte as she pokes at the dirt in Amelia’s Sansevieria plant before tipping a little water into the pot. His eyes travel over the roundness of her hips and his teeth clench as she bends over to check the large leafy plant in the corner. Wyoming…Cheyenne.
She straightens, turning to move on to the plants near the back wall and their eyes meet, a tug pulling in her belly strong as gravity and she envisions herself crossing the room, throwing her arms around him, letting him hoist her on the desk and-
Charlotte’s eyes widen slightly, immediately dropping her gaze to the floor. Where did that come from? To say her sex life was slow at the moment was being kind but it wasn’t like her to randomly think about someone hoisting her on a desk. But it wasn’t just someone. It was Justin, which should make it worse but she can’t help to think about the way his hands would feel on her body, how his lips would feel on hers, to imagine how he would feel inside-
She bites the side of her tongue hard, hoping the pain will rinse the thought from her mind but it only banishes it back to the far recesses, the image never really leaving.
Justin watches her turn abruptly, her hair swaying hypnotically against her back and he forces himself to look away. He shouldn’t be feeling this way about her. They were just friends and he was engaged. Despite Trace’s assurance that his feelings towards Charlotte were harmless as long as he didn’t act on them he couldn’t help the stab of guilt he felt along with every chill that she sent down his spine.
“Do you have some kind of problem with spending time with my parents?” Amelia asks and he jerks as if struck, turning back to her bewildered.
“No,” he says, his voice conveying his confusion. “No, of course not.”
Charlotte cringes, pausing in her task to say a silent prayer that Justin’s denial will be enough. She doesn’t think she can take listening to her brow beat him tonight. It’s late and she just wants to go home even if all she has waiting for her is her goldfish and her TiVo.
“I thought it was very nice of them to let us stay there considering they just bought the place and have only just had it decorated. They haven’t even stayed there yet and they’re offering to let us have it for our honeymoon,” Amelia snaps and Justin sighs.
“All I was saying was that it’s a little odd to be going on our honeymoon with your parents. Having them sleep in the next room?” he chuckles, smiling in what he hopes is a winning way. “Come on babe, that is a little unconventional don’t you think?”
Charlotte cringes. You never try and use logic with Amelia.
“Oh yes, of course,” Amelia says, her voice light and airy and Justin swallows hard.
“Uh huh, yeah I know staying with my parents on our honeymoon would just be…odd but I didn’t hear you complaining when we spent our one year anniversary with your family.”
“Amelia they were only there for three days out of the two weeks we spent in Hawaii and we were all in separate bungalows,” Justin argues but Amelia has only just begun.
“There was no problem bringing your entire family out with us on that excursion was there? You didn’t even think to have my family come.”
“Don’t you do that. I asked you to invite them and you said your mother was going to be in Paris for fashion week and your dad had to work-”
“We ate every meal with your whole family and now you don’t even want to stay in the same house as mine-”
“Amelia, I’m not saying that!” Justin says, the frustration and fatigue evident in his voice. He sighs. “Baby, whatever you want is fine. We can stay at your parents place, okay? I would love to spend more time with them.”
Charlotte keeps her jaw clenched tight, anger and indignation welling inside her as she tips more and more water into the plants along the back wall, hurrying through the task as quickly as possible. She doesn’t want to be here for this. She can’t listen to Amelia do this to him anymore, not tonight.
“Sure we can spend all the time in the world with your mom and dad but when it comes time to do something with mine you don’t want to. I spent TWO WEEKS in Memphis for Christmas, Justin!” Amelia yells and Justin bows his head, closing his eyes. “TWO! And I had to deal with you getting drunk with Trace and flitting all over the place on four-wheelers getting filthy and eating carbs. I did that for you and you can’t do this ONE little thing for me.”
“Amelia, just stop okay! He said he was sorry why can’t you just leave him alone?”
The words fly out of Charlotte’s mouth before she even has a chance to stop them, slamming the water bottle on the back table, her body turning towards Amelia in her anger. As soon as she says them her stomach rolls and a hot flash of dread races through her. What the hell did she just say? Justin is looking at her wide-eyed and Amelia’s face is dangerously blank, her blue eyes impossibly cold. Charlotte’s eyes fall on Justin who gives her a searching look then she drops her eyes to the floor, searching for something, anything to rectify the situation.
“Amelia, I-”
“Excuse me?” Amelia asks, standing from her seat and Justin moves towards her as she rounds the desk.
“Honey, she didn’t mean it. It’s Friday and she’s tired,” Justin says quickly, his voice low and soothing but Amelia merely brushes by him, moving to stand directly in front of Charlotte.
Amelia stands tall at five feet eleven inches, her four inch heels causing her to tower over Charlotte’s five foot five frame. Charlotte’s stomach trembles at the rage that boils in Amelia’s ice cold eyes and she knows at this very moment she’s fired. There’s no way that Amelia would tolerate that kind of insubordination. She feels almost as if she could pass out, her breath coming in short pants.
“I realize that what with your extensive dating history of about three people that you presume to know what it’s like to deal with men. What makes them tick. How they think and react to things…” Amelia snarls and Charlotte’s green eyes are wide, her hands trembling slightly as she clasps them together.
“Amelia,” Justin says lowly, reaching for her arm but she shakes him off violently, her eyes set on Charlotte in murderous rage.
“Well, if you were such an authority, Charlie, maybe you would be with your own fiancé instead of telling me what do to with mine.”
“Amelia!” Justin exclaims, shocked at her meanness although he knows he shouldn’t be. He watches Charlotte’s face go from fearful to wounded to blank in a matter of minutes and he sees the fingers of one of her hands clamp around the other, her knuckles turning white.
“No, Justin she thinks she’s the authority on you,” Amelia says, laughter tinkling in her voice. “On us. She flits around here in her no name shoes with her off the rack office wear and she thinks she’s better than us for some unknown reason.”
“I-I-I d-don’t,” Charlotte stutters slightly as she stares at the floor, forcing her vision to remain clear, tears pricking at her eyes. She doesn’t dare look at Justin.
“I know you think I’m ridiculous and demanding,” Amelia says, her voice going dangerously soft and Justin’s hand squeezes around her bicep, begging her to stop but she just shrugs him off again. “I know that you don’t understand how someone like me can have all this. Well it’s because I’m like this that I have all this, Charlotte. Did you ever think of that? That maybe you’re the one who got it wrong. After all I don’t see you on the guest list to the Met’s charity balls and I don’t see you on the New York Times Wedding Announcements page.” Her voice goes soft as she leans towards Charlotte in conference. “That’s because you’ll never be anything more than a poor coal miner’s daughter who couldn’t hack it in big city finance, and honestly, what man would want that?”
Charlotte swallows hard, the tears springing forward and she has to open her eyes as wide as possible to keep them from spilling down her cheeks. She marvels at Amelia’s ability to get right to the heart of things. To hit every last one of her insecurities all at once, shredding her pride to ribbons. But she will not give Amelia the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She clenches her jaw, raising her head and she has to force herself not to look away from the smile of smug satisfaction on Amelia’s lips.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice thick with emotion and the words burn her lips as they leave her mouth. She doesn’t look at Justin, knows that one glance at the pity that is no doubtedly on his face will send her into hysterics.
“You should be,” Amelia says, her voice dangerously low and she holds Charlotte’s gaze for a few moments more, her chin jutted out and her back straight, looking down the tiny slope of her nose at her. “That’s all.”
Charlotte does her best to walk slowly from the room but she can’t help to run the last few paces, hooking her hands in the straps of her bag as she passes her desk and running to the front office door, not even bothering with her coat. The last thing she hears as she swings open the door is Justin’s voice, thick and disgusted, spitting “You are such a fucking bitch sometimes, you know that?”
But she doesn’t care to wait, just throws herself out into the hall and sprints to the elevator, the tears constricting her throat as she jabs the down button with fervorancy. She waits, her body trembling, watching the numbers ascend but she’s jittery, desperation making her impatient so she turns, sprinting across the hall and throwing herself into the plain metal door nearly obscured by a plant. The push handle clangs loudly as she stumbles into the stairwell scurrying down a few flights before her legs give out, the tears finally overtaking her. She falls onto the steps, her hands covering her face as she sobs, resting her head against the cold concrete wall.
She cries bitterly for everything. For all the times Amelia made her ashamed of her upbringing, for every time she put down her wardrobe, her hair, her shoes. For busting her ass at college for four years only to discover she hates everything about her chosen field. For every smile Justin has ever forced at Amelia to hide how much her comments hurt him. She cries because she knows she just got fired and wishes she had been strong enough to just quit, wishes she knew what she wanted, wishes so desperately that there was a way for her to find out who she is so she’d know the next step to take.
She’s crying so hard she doesn’t quite hear the soft tap of shoes on concrete steps, so caught up in the release of her tears that she jumps when she feels his hand warm on her back as he settles next to her on the steps, folding his lanky frame down beside her.
She coughs, swallowing hard as she tries to suppress the hiccupping sobs, but her body still shakes with them and she turns her face to the wall, shame deep and bitter sitting in the pit of her stomach like a rock. His hand smoothes up and down her back a few times before stopping and he nudges her arm softly, trying to draw her attention. She chances a glance down and sees his offering, a soft white handkerchief with a little blue J.T. stitched in the corner and her hand trembles as she takes it from him.
She dabs at her eyes, sniffing pitifully as she exhales shakily. She jumps as calloused fingertips brush against the side of her face, tucking her dark hair behind her ear and the tenderness with which he touches her draws another well of emotion in her. Why, why did she have to fall for the guy that’s engaged to her boss of all people? Out of the four million men living in New York City she had to fall for the one that was completely unavailable.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice gentle and deep and she sniffles softly.
“She’s such a bitch,” Charlotte says, cursing the break in her voice as another flood of tears cascades down her cheeks, flicking them away as discreetly as possible.
“Come on, Charlie,” he says, his voice peppy and she grits her teeth. “You can’t honestly believe anything she said? She was just going for the jugular.”
“Are you defending her?” Charlotte finds herself asking, her head whipping to him and his eyes widen slightly at the anger in her gaze and his face goes uncertain. “I’m sorry,” Charlotte says immediately looking away from him, her heart splintering softly. “She’s your fiancé, you’re supposed to defend her. I’m sorry.”
“No!” Justin says and he sighs frustrated. “No, Charlie I…I’m not defending her. I’m just saying that it’s not true. What she said. Hey,” he nudges her with his elbow, scooting closer so that his hip is pressed against hers. “None of its true, Charlotte.”
“God, I know,” Charlotte says letting her head hang back, letting her arms lay out across her lap, playing with the fabric of his handkerchief.
“Do you?” he asks peering at her face and she glances at him uncertainly. “You’re an…amazing woman Charlotte. Amazing…” he lets his voice trail as he stares at her, her tear stained face glowing in the dim lighting of the stairwell, her lips full and red. He shakes his head. “And you’re gonna get married.” He nods, looking out and nodding authoritatively as he lets his elbows rest on his knees, pressing his palms together. “You’ll get married.”
Charlotte lets out a humorless laugh. “Oh yeah?”
Justin smiles softly and when he turns to look at her it widens. “Yeah.”
His eyes hold hers and that sense of waiting is back that pull in his chest and he’s drowning in her, wanting nothing more than to cup her face and bring his mouth to hers, to show her that any man would be lucky to have her. That he would be lucky to have her. He coughs slightly, looking down at the toes of his shoes.
“Yeah I mean…I’d marry you,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, his tone joking and Charlotte laughs.
“Oh yeah?” she asks, grinning giddily at the very idea of it. “How you gonna pull that off?”
He purses his lips in thought, staring down the dark stairwell. “Well… you’ll just put on the dress…come down the aisle…we’ll get married.” He nods.
She laughs and shakes her head, forcing herself to let the fantasy slip away. “Nah all this shit isn’t what I want…”
“What would you want?” he asks softly, folding his arms over his knees and resting his chin on them as he watches her interestedly.
“Oh gosh,” she says heaving a sigh and resting her head against the cement wall. “Something small…intimate…friends and family.”
“Vague much?” he asks with a chuckle and she gives him a wry smile.
“I don’t know…” she says sighing as she looks out into the darkness. “I always kind of wanted a winter wedding, I guess,” she smiles softly and Justin smiles too. “I like the idea of it snowing.”
“Snow on your wedding day?” he asks and she nods. “Where would you have it?”
She shrugs. “I dunno. I don’t really have a preference. I guess I’d let him pick.”
Her eyes meet his and he’s looking at her steadily, his eyes boring into hers and she wonders what he’s thinking. Sometimes she can see what he’s thinking written all over his face and other times, like now, his face is smooth and blank, devoid of any emotion but his eyes, god his eyes are so deep and blue. She looks away.
“I dunno, the day isn’t really important to me,” she says, shaking her head and tracing the little T on his handkerchief with her forefinger. “It’s the marriage. We’ve talked about this, haven’t we?”
“Yeah,” he says with a nod, then he looks at her. “But the day represents the marriage,” he says and she looks at him. “Right?” he asks. “I mean it’s the beginning of it. You need to start it out right.”
“Well…yeah,” Charlotte says nodding slowly and then chuckles softly. “But the rest of your life is more important than that one day. Like the day is nice but it shouldn’t be the end-all-be-all, you know?”
“Yeah, but it’s a symbol. Like the ring,” Justin says, running his fingers over his engagement finger, feeling the smoothness of his skin. “I mean, I got Amelia that really nice ring because she’s gonna wear it for the rest of her life.”
“Yeah, it’s nice,” Charlotte offers and she knows he can tell she’s lying as she thinks of the diamond encrusted monstrosity that is Amelia’s engagement ring. “How much did you pay for that thing anyway?” Charlotte asks and then her eyes widen as he raises an eyebrow at her, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Oh my gosh, that was so rude. I’m so sorry-”
“Nah, it’s fine,” he says waving his hand as he looks up at the ceiling in thought. “Well let’s see, the first ring was around a hundred twenty grand,” he says not noticing as Charlotte’s jaw drops, “but she didn’t like that one so we exchanged it for the one she has now which was around four hundred.”
“Wait,” Charlotte says, pressing her fingers to her temples. “the first ring?”
“Yeah, she didn’t like the first one,” Justin says and when Charlotte raises an eyebrow at him he blushes slightly.
“So you asked her to marry you and she said ‘Only if you get me a different ring’?”
“No,” Justin says defensively and then shifts. “Not exactly…”
“You’ve GOT to be kidding me,” Charlotte says looking at him dumbfounded and he sighs.
“It wasn’t like that, okay! It was…she had this other ring in mind that’s all,” he replies huffily and Charlotte presses her lips together and they’re silent for a moment.
“How long did it take you to pick out the first one?” Charlotte asks softly and he sighs, his shoulders slumping.
“Six months,” he sighs, hanging his head slightly.
“I’m sure it was perfect,” Charlotte says quietly and a small smile twitches at his lips.
“Not perfect enough.”
They’re quiet for a moment. “Four hundred thousand dollars?” Charlotte finally asks and he chuckles.
“What, it’s an investment!” he exclaims and Charlotte snorts.
“You know what the investment is?” she asks, anger smoldering in her eyes and Justin is slightly taken aback. “The marriage! All this…shit…the cake, the announcements, the dress, the tux…none of it fucking matters!”
“She really frustrates you, doesn’t she?” Justin asks and Charlotte lets out a soft growl.
“A lot of times, yeah,” she responds, heaving a sigh and Justin tilts his head to the side, regarding her curiously.
“Why don’t you quit?” he asks and Charlotte turns, looking at him bewildered. “I mean you quit your last job because you didn’t like it. Why are you keeping this one?”
Charlotte blinks at him before looking down at her hands, a blush creeping up her neck. If she were honest with him she’d say that he was really the only reason that she was still keeping this job. She’d thought about quitting. She’d thought about it but she could never bring herself to write her letter of resignation. No matter what Amelia did to her she, for some unknown reason, was able to justify it in some way. She guesses she’s a lot like Justin in that way. She smiles.
“I mean, not that I want you to quit,” Justin adds quickly. “Seeing you is the highlight of my day.”
His eyes widen slightly at his confession and when she looks at him a slow smile creeps up her face, the dimple revealing itself in her cheek and he can’t help but smile back. His eyes hold hers and he doesn’t look away, butterfly’s setting loose in his stomach, the urge to kiss her so strong. She’s right there, right next to him and he wants nothing more than to touch her hair, touch her face, press his mouth to hers.
“You know,” she says softly, her tongue snaking out to wet her bottom lip and her eyes flick down to his mouth. “You asked me once…what the worst part of working for Amelia was…”
“Yeah,” he says, but it comes out in a dry rasp, his tongue snaking out to wet his own lips and he sees her pupils dilate, her eyes still trained on his mouth.
“It’s not the tantrums,” she says and then she swallows hard because she feels like he’s closer to her. Did he lean in closer? “Its…it’s not the tantrums.”
“What?” he asks, his voice no louder than a murmur and she can feel the rush of his breath against her lips and he’s definitely closer than he was before, his face mere millimeters from hers.
“It’s…it’s the way she treats you,” Charlotte breathes, and it’s as if something breaks in them both, snaps and cracks, the magnets inside them finally fusing together as his hands come up to cup her face, hers winding in the lapels of his suit jacket. “I hate the way she treats y-”
But she can’t even finish her sentence, his lips crushing to hers and it’s as if the entire world stops. Breathing stops. Hearts stop and it’s just the two of them, his hands in her hair, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks for being patient guys! The next update probably won't be for several weeks since I'm rolling into finals but then I have spring break where I hope to get A LOT done. Happy Reading!
Story Tags: fiancej desksex affair love hottubsex
