by Sara Brookes
She turned her back on Stephen, sliding her headset into place as she tapped the accept button. “Good afternoon, Mr. Jobson. What can I do for you tonight?” Allison pulled the customer’s account as he began to describe his latest pseudo-catastrophe. Stan Jobson was a regular who typically called in to the office at least once a month. He wasn’t inept with computers, but he knew just enough of the basics to get into trouble.
Most of her coworkers hated taking this type of call, but she actually enjoyed working with the general public. Just another mark to add to the long list of disparities that existed between her and her coworkers.
“If things are running that slow, it sounds as if you may just need to clean out your cache. I need you to open Remote Assistance and send me another invitation file just like you did last time so I can look around.” As she waited, she glanced down to see Stan had recently purchased a three-terabyte external hard drive from one of the sales associates. He’d never use that much storage space, but she bet Mitch had pushed for the higher-end device in order to make a bigger commission.
Ass.
Her unwillingness to screw the customer meant she would never make it in the sales department. Which was perfectly fine with her, since she was happy dealing with service calls. She wasn’t interested in making the transition. The transaction with Patrick had been a complete fluke and would stay that way.
Patrick.
The man who had a strong, honest look about him that made her…tingly. Every molecule of her being seemed to have snapped to life the moment she’d laid eyes on him. And he had so much more going for him than a handsome face and killer body. She knew there were more layers to him, more than just the coffee house barista she met. She had no right to imagine him stripping away that silly logo shirt to reveal the muscles underneath, but damn if she could stop herself. A wonderful burn spread between her legs as she thought about his rock-solid frame.
What is it about you that makes me want you so much?
“Allison?”
As much as she wanted it to be, the voice in her ear wasn’t Patrick’s. “Sorry about that, Mr. Jobson. Just looking around your hard drive to see what I’m up against. Your cache is pretty empty and you don’t have any orphan files that should be causing the lag. Looks as if you’ve picked up some malware. A Trojan horse to be more specific. No, it doesn’t appear to be to be doing much damage to your files, but it is eating away your connection speed. When was the last time you changed your wireless network password? You’ve never secured your WiFi? All right, let’s start there.”
Two hours later, Allison tossed her keys to the kitchen counter, scowling at the mountain of dirty dishes she hadn’t washed. They’d piled up over the past few days and she certainly didn’t want to deal with that necessary evil of life right now. She had too much pent-up energy to attend to simple chores.
Her mother would have a fit if she saw the stack.
As she thought about those she’d left behind, a pang stabbed at her heart. She missed her family. But at the same time, she hadn’t been able to stand the suffocation of living so close to them. That suffocation had gotten so bad, the need to be out on her own, to simply breathe, had been overwhelming.
Despite the family’s protest, she’d uprooted her life on her thirtieth birthday, packed everything important in her home on Glass Island and high-tailed it to the mountains of Virginia. Occasions such as this made her miss the sparkling Atlantic Ocean just off the coast of North Carolina.
Especially the times she climbed the Widow’s Walk in the dim early morning darkness to watch the explosion of sunrise with a cup of coffee in hand. The small cottage she currently lived in was tucked into the shadows of the Blue Ridge Mountains. While the sunrise here was certainly spectacular, with the slow rise of the glowing ball of fire over the ridges, it paled a little in comparison to the sparkling-blue water. While the island sunrise couldn’t compare, she reminded herself there was one distinct thing the island didn’t have.
Patrick Conners’ coffee.
Jesus, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Flipping off the light, she shuffled to her bedroom. She bent to scratch her orange-and-gray tabby, Boolean, before dropping her work clothes in the laundry hamper. Grateful the day was over, she sighed heavily as she ran her fingers through her hair, using her fingers to pull out a few tangles. She bypassed the mirror as she washed her face, uninterested in the view she knew she’d find. A whole lot of averages offset by curves that clearly showed she liked to eat. The fact she refused to drive her car, choosing instead to walk just about everywhere, was what kept her from tumbling over into the ample category.
Her love of coffee didn’t help matters. Black, light and everything in between. Coffee was golden in all forms to her. Especially coffee such as what she’d been served today at Perfect Shot. Their special roast had hit all the right buttons. Not to mention the hot buttons Patrick Conners had pushed.
Talk about walking testosterone.
Those were the only words she could come up with to describe him.
Tossing her bra and panties into the laundry pile, she flopped on her bed and tried her damndest not to think about how that smirk—and that sultry little wink right before she’d left—had made it extremely difficult to think coherently. She’d thought it had been bad before he’d called her directly. Afterward? It was if she’d become a walking, talking ball of need consumed by the thought of sex.
More than once she’d pictured him between her thighs, his cock frantically plunging into her pussy over and over and over. She wanted to know how his tongue felt pressed over her clit, his fingers buried in her wet heat as he stroked her to a mind-shattering orgasm. She’d once had a dream about her hands bound behind her back, a faceless figure pressing against her body while illicit commands flew at her. Would he be willing to tie her up that way? She couldn’t put her finger on why she specifically wanted something of that nature with Patrick, but that certainly seemed to be the least of her worries.
Her whole body was on fire. A searing molten core of pure need.
Giving in to the arousal beginning to consume her, she brushed her fingers over her stomach. A tingling spread low in her abdomen, flourishing without any encouragement. Her labia grew heavy as that decadent feeling quickened. Her skin stretched so tightly, it was as if she suddenly didn’t fit inside her own flesh anymore.
She hadn’t been this horny in…well, years.
Oh what the hell? It wasn’t as if someone would be joining her in bed tonight. Or any other night for that matter. She flicked her thumbnail against a hardened nipple, sucking in a breath when her arousal spiked. Her hands began to wander, gliding over her skin before settling to cup her breasts.
How would his hands feel wrapped there instead of her small ones? Would he be gentle at first, slowly working to ratchet her desire higher before pinching her hard nipples between his fingers?
She rolled her nipples, gasping into the dark as her pussy began to throb with desire. Her touch firmed, her arousal increasing with each passing second. Desperate for more, she snaked a hand down between her spread legs, tapping the pad of one finger against her clit.
She imagined Patrick’s tongue there, pressing and teasing the hard nub until she begged him to push her over the edge. Her finger circled slowly at first, then quickened as she began to tease the folds of her pussy.
How would his fingers feel inside her? Would he work deliberately to slip inside her or would he drive two fingers deep inside and demand she take what he had to offer? After hearing that powerful tone he’d used at the shop, she wanted both.
Sliding two of her own fingers into her wet heat, she pushed her hips up off the mattress and pressed the heel of her hand against her clit. Colors exploded behind her eyes as she succumbed to the helpless feeling swirling through her. She desperately needed to come. Moisture coated her fingers as she withdrew and then drove them into her cunt again.
She pinched her nipple, imagining i
t was Patrick’s teeth closing around the taut nub. He was relentless, his body pressing firmly against hers as she continued to thrust her fingers deep. “That’s it, baby, fuck yourself for me. Show me how you get off.” Encouraged by his lust-laced whispers against her skin, she lifted her feet off the mattress to spread her legs higher and wider. Hunger raged inside her body, a tempest swirling out of control.
“I need you inside me, Patrick. I need you so much.”
Moving her fingers from her nipple to her clit, she worked a rapid pattern as she added another finger to drive into herself. Her voice filled the room, a rapturous groan of satisfaction that hung in the air long after it left her throat.
She imagined his body, hot and hard over hers. Those delicious muscles of his straining as he perched over her. She was so ready for him. So wet and needy.
“Please.”
In answer, he plunged inside her in one wild stroke, his cock filling her so thoroughly she cried out into the darkness. Her pace quickened, plunging into her pussy so fast her head began to spin. Equilibrium spiraling out of control, her body detonated. The intense orgasm spread through her body, firing off nerves from the bottom of her feet to the top of her head. Her whole body had become one giant bundle of nerves that continued to pulse with a life of its own long after the release abated.
Riding high on the sensation, she withdrew her fingers and allowed her hands to fall limply to her sides. Her heart hammered painfully against her sternum, her lungs burning as she fought to control her breathing. Limp and feeling boneless, she closed her eyes and basked in the sensation of where her very dirty thoughts had taken her.
Holy hell.
Still breathing hard, her body tingling from the powerful release, she pushed off the bed. On shaky legs, she made her way to the bathroom to wash up again for the night. She did look in the mirror then and found her skin held a pink flush indicative of arousal. She was practically glowing.
As she wrapped her robe around her waist, the reality set in that she would have to face the very man she’d just fantasized about when the install job began. And the next day. And the day after that. And if she continued to be a customer at his shop, for months, even years, to come.
Frak.
She’d just objectified the coffee barista. Using him as fantasy fodder was wrong on so many levels. She rationalized her little masturbation delusion, chalking it up to the fact she just hadn’t gotten any action that would have taken the edge off. Patrick had taken the brunt simply because he’d been handy. The new guy. He’d merely been a victim of circumstance because he’d poured on the charm while smiling and winking at her over a cup of coffee. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t oozed sex appeal in the few minutes they’d talked. Walking testosterone, remember?
She’d had no choice but to give in. But she vowed to never use him for masturbation fodder again. Ever.
* * * * *
Two days.
That was how long the promise Allison made to herself lasted. It had dissolved into the ether as she’d wheeled the last of the hardware for the Perfect Shot order into the coffee house the first day of the install and caught a glimpse of all that heavenly man-flesh. She’d gotten through the day with her thoughts safely in the PG-rated spectrum, but she was back at the coffee house to finish the job.
Patrick stood behind the counter, efficiently filling orders for customers on the brand new touchscreen register that had been installed yesterday. He seemed much calmer than when she’d walked in that first day. And he had that damn shirt on again. This time she noticed the way his chest muscles seemed to slide temptingly under the cotton. The collar was open today, exposing a small triangle of tanned skin at his throat.
As she began to wonder how that bit of flesh tasted, fingers snapped abruptly in front of her face. “Need a bib, Ally?”
“What? No.” Blinking, she shook away the fantasy. Justin and Tom, two of her coworkers and team members, stood waiting for directions. Catching her fantasizing was not on the list of things to do today. “Just need some coffee. I haven’t had any yet this morning.”
“If you say so.” Justin shrugged. “Where do you want us to get started?”
She pulled the work order out of her bag, studying it as she thought about the items they’d already installed. “With the dual mesh network already up and running, all we have left is the security system and the WiFi. I want to check the routing algorithm on the network first to make sure it recognizes the fastest route. Installing this kind of advanced network is pretty pointless otherwise.”
Tom touched the dingy brim of his well-worn baseball cap. “We can take the security system. Both of us on the job will get it done faster. Besides, you seem as though you want to get your hands on the system again and have yourself a little geek-gasm.”
“Yeah, it’s a pretty choice system. The remote sensors for the exterior doors and glassbreak sensors for the window are on my cart. Don’t forget about the extra sensors on the back roll-up door and the remote monitor. I’ll check the code and then tackle the wiring for the hi-speed router. When you two finish up, come give me a hand so we can get the work complete and get out of their hair.”
She wheeled her equipment to a corner out of the way and grabbed her laptop. Being as unobtrusive as possible, she kept her head down as she ducked into the back office. She smiled at the stacks of disorganized paperwork littering the desk and every horizontal surface in the room. Nice to know she wasn’t the only person who couldn’t work on a clean desk.
With the laptop balanced carefully on top of one of the piles, she plugged in a network cable and waited for the program to recognize her as the administrator. Stroking the highly polished corner of the desk, she wondered when Patrick had last been right in this very room.
Her mind started to wander as she envisioned him hunched over, his fingers tangled in his hair as he tried to find some kind of order in the chaos. He slumped over, dropping his forehead so it rested against a small pile of paper. Tension rippled through his back as his palms slammed down against the desk. Papers scattered as a soft growl split the air as he suddenly sat up. “I can’t work. I can’t concentrate. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, Allison?”
She shook her head, swallowing carefully around the lump forming in her throat. Desire ignited at the base of her spine. More than anything, she wanted to know how he felt about her. “Show me.”
A wicked smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “My pleasure.” His head fell back, his eyes closing as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Long and thick, he slowly squeezed the base in order to prolong his pleasure. He stroked slowly, fucking his fist again and again as he masturbated. For her.
The overt display of sexuality and raw maleness burned through her hot and powerful, sparking a fever in her core. He moaned long and loud as he came, gasping her name as he milked every drop of cum. The needy sound echoed through her body, pebbling her nipples so they ached every time she took a breath.
Whoa.
Her hands shook as she set them on the keyboard when her computer beeped. That was just a little harmless fantasy, right? Nothing wrong with that. She watched long blocks of code scroll on her screen, trying to concentrate. The algorithm that ran the whole system appeared to be intact and functioning correctly, so she closed her laptop with a snap.
She paused at the office door, glancing over her shoulder with a quiet sigh. She had no right to attach her fantasies to someone this way. But damn if she could stop. Damn if she wanted to stop. A small thrill shuddered through her as she visualized Patrick sitting in that chair again, holding his cock toward her in offering.
The fantasy would quickly degrade again if she didn’t get out of this office soon. With a quiet snort, she slipped back into the main seating area. After tucking her laptop in her bag, she turned to study the flow of customers. That flow would change once the café started advertising the free hi-speed internet access she was about to install. Commuters would stop to settle i
n with their coffee and tablets instead of rushing away to work. Students would hunker down with their high-priced laptops to work on their studies.
The high-end equipment that had been ordered would cover all those bases no matter where she installed the router. But taking a moment to observe and predict how things would change allowed her to pick the prime location for the optimal signal. That spot would interfere with some of Patrick’s current business since she’d need to climb a ladder, but they’d appreciate the disruption in the long run.
They’d been grateful for the changes so far.
Perched on a ladder, she had a bird’s-eye view of the entire shop. It also gave her a perfect view of Patrick as he made coffee for customers. That courtesy he’d exhibited the very first day shined through every move he made. The friendly smile he gave the young mother balancing a small baby on her hip. The elderly gentleman who ordered six cups of the house roast. Patrick even helped carry the large order out to a row of tables positioned in the corner near the restrooms. A large group of men, similar in age, were chatting about the previous night’s baseball game. Some of the insults being slung back and forth caused her to chuckle more than a few times.
Even without his brother around, Patrick had set an inviting atmosphere.
Despite the hectic pace as he filled orders, Patrick took the time to shoot a few smiles her way when he had a break. While the grin was similar to those he gave everyone else, there was more behind his eyes when he looked at her. A heat that had been absent in those customer-friendly glances.
She was pleased to discover she’d been wrong about him. While he had to be nice to her because she was a customer, he definitely held some kind of interest. That little masturbation session a few nights ago and the lewd fantasy in his office hadn’t been so misplaced after all.
Nice to know it hadn’t just been her imagination working in overdrive. He would certainly provide her with enough fodder for a few more hot sessions. Few, hell. Based on the power of your imagination, try for months and months to come.