“He doesn’t, and I have plenty of fun,” I answered.
Taylor’s eyebrows raised to his dark black hairline. “Oh, do you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I shot him a flirty grin.
“I absolutely would.” John purred. I shot him an exaggerated eye roll. “I might teach you a thing or two.”
“You have no shame.” Taylor laughed at John’s flirtation.
“I’ll walk you out,” Isaac stood and slipped his hand in mine. The bar had become crowded as patrons in business attire drank the day away. I hadn’t noticed anyone come in after us, but we had to weave through the crowd. We crossed out into the dark street and Isaac dropped my hand. He rubbed the back of his neck, searching for words. “Sorry about them, they’re my friends from college. I hope you’re not, uh, they didn’t make you… er… feel uncomfortable.”
“No, not at all. They’re just curious.” I lied. I’d felt like crawling out of my skin, their eyes on me were like a burning spotlight cutting through the dim light of the pub.
“Don’t lie, I can tell when you’re nervous, you know.” Isaac’s face was serious. He reached out and pushed the strap of my purse up onto my shoulder. I was clutching on to the purse so tightly my knuckles were white.
The small gesture was clouding my thoughts, ruining my ability to think quickly and cut off this ridiculous notion that my body was screaming up at me. “It’s fine. I didn’t want them to think we were,” I paused. What could I say? What wouldn’t sound awkward?
“Yeah,” Isaac chuckled.
“Yeah,” I matched his awkward laughter. We were standing inches from each other, the air between us suffocating.
“Right.” Isaac’s hand fell from my shoulder. He raised it to wave down a cab and I pushed his hand down, learning the shape of his bicep.
“It’s so nice out. I’ll walk.”
Isaac’s roving eyes looked me up and down, sending my stomach into a somersault. “In those?” He pointed to my shoes.
“The heel is thick, they’re super comfortable.” I wasn’t lying. But really I needed the fresh air to cool my body and calm my thoughts. “Plus, we walked here… so…” I couldn’t stop my stupid grin. “I’ll see you Monday.”
We parted ways. I was halfway down the block when I realized I was walking in the wrong direction. I turned my head to find Isaac still watching me. My pride didn’t allow me to turn and go the right way, so I just waved and continued on the wrong path. I’d have to go around the whole block, but that was better than admitting I had gone the wrong way.
CHAPTER 18
Celeste
“And where were you?” Jackson called over his shoulder. He and Kieran were sprawled out on the couch watching a movie, eating out of takeout containers. Kieran’s red mane whipped around, and she sent me an accusing look.
I glanced at my watch. Isaac and I had been together for a little over three hours. “Isaac took me out for a drink and then we ended up ordering food too.”
Kieran leaped from Jackson’s lap and hung over the back of the couch. “Drinks!” She shrieked. It wasn’t a question, it was a command. Jackson yelped, her knees must have hit him because he jerked and swatted her behind.
“Don't get me started on today.” I dropped my bag and kicked off my shoes. I started telling them about my mom, their jaws dropped in disbelief. I flopped onto the couch next to Kieran. She hugged me and kissed my cheek.
“What a bitch,” Jackson said with a hand on my shoulder.
“She’s always been like that. Slave to the patriarchy and capitalism. Cares too much about what other people think.”
“You poor thing.” Kieran nuzzled her nose to mine and pet my curls. She hugged me close, and I felt at home.
“Ugh, don’t pity me. I’m used to it. I just didn’t think she would do this.” Kieran was caressing my hair, detangling the length with her fingers.
“I’m starting to question who’s dating who.” Jackson gave us a look, smiling.
“At this point, I might just be a lesbian.” I laughed. “Who knows?”
“Celeste doesn’t feel anything in her naughty bits,” Kieran said over her shoulder.
I hoped they couldn’t see how my jaw clenched. I had definitely felt a lot of things in every naughty bit sitting across from Isaac.
“Even when you made out with that guy last weekend?” He raised his brow.
I wasn’t entirely comfortable discussing this with Jackson, “No. And it wasn’t because I was drunk, because I wasn’t yet.”
“You will when the time is right” Jackson assured me. Exhaustion washed over me as I tuned into the movie they were watching, so I excused myself and went up to my room.
As the hot water washed over my body, I allowed my mind to wander. To dissect the last two days. It felt like it had been an entire week. I expected to cry, but instead I felt nothing. I should be furious at my mother, sobbing from her lack of emotional intelligence. Her borderline narcissism. I should be broken and battered and beaten down.
But I didn’t.
I felt like a tree at the very start of spring, pushing my roots deep into the ground and radiating upward. Alone in a forest of many, but strong and bursting to life. I felt the warmth of the sun on my cold dead branches, life stirring within me. I was proud of my outburst with her. I was proud of myself for not entertaining any of her bullshit.
I closed my eyes to wash the product from my skin, and the feel of Isaac watching me quivered deep in my belly. I couldn’t have imagined that gaze. Couldn’t have made up the way his eyes licked at my collar bones. The way my body reacted.
A low, aching, pulse started again between my legs and I slipped my fingers between the folds of my sex. I pressed gently, relieving the sensual ache radiating from my clit.
Mmmm.
I moaned and my knees buckled a little. I spread my legs a little wider and slipped a finger into myself, I was slick and hot. My muscles tightened around my finger and I slipped a second inside. I hadn’t been wet in so long.
Never with Anthony. We always had to use a lubricant.
But just the thought of Isaac touching himself across town, in his own shower, thinking of me, made my heart flutter and my whole body pulse.
I pushed the memory of Anthony out of my mind and followed my imagination into dangerous territory.
I explored the folds of my pussy in light strokes, tracing little circles at my clit and stroking downward again. All while I gently slid in and out of myself. I imagined Isaac’s cock, long and hard for me. His hand stroking, pumping, while he watched me finger myself, blue eyes dark and wanting.
I whimpered, the fantasy wasn’t enough to get me over the edge. So, I closed my eyes and imagined his tongue on me, licking my clit like it was his last meal on earth. Tasting the way I came for him. My orgasm came suddenly, growing from my clit, up my spine and raising the hair on the back of my neck. I muffled my cries into my free hand, my eyes flying open. My muscles contracted over and over, gripping my fingers and rippling down my thighs.
The instant release stole my breath and I was left gasping, watching myself flush and writhe in the mirror opposite the shower. My lips were crimson and I smiled wickedly. Relief, exhaustion, satisfaction all swept over me. I let my fingers slide out of me with the last spasms of my orgasm and delicately tested the bundle of nerves at my apex, I was too tender for any more touch. Grinning, I toweled off on unsteady legs.
I'm not broken.
But I really shouldn’t be using my boss as fantasy material.
I dove under my covers after I was dry and tested myself again. I slid my hands down my breasts and between my legs. I imagined my favorite celebrity caressing me, proclaiming his undying love.
Nothing.
I tried to focus on the feeling of my wandering hands.
Damn it.
I tried to recall the way sex felt and I recoiled in disgust. None of my past lovers or experiences ever completely satisfied me. I’d always felt
something, but never got there.
Okay, then. I surrendered.
I built a picture of Isaac, reading at his desk, and I felt my body relax deeper into the mattress. I imagined his eyes on me, a flirty smile, and his hand on my waist. As if jolted awake by an alarm, my clit started to pulse.
Well fuck.
I continued anyway, biting the sheets to quiet myself, because I didn’t want to lose that feeling. I was so elated that I could feel anything physically sexual at all that I allowed myself to lust and fantasize about Isaac… I wasn’t broken.
I was thriving, writhing against my fingers, tangled in the sheets, gasping quietly as I discovered myself again. Loving myself. Isaac’s hands were on me, over me, in me. I called on the memories of him over my shoulder to imagine his breath hot against my ear. His legs tangled with mine under the cafe table… snapshots of us on his couch, bent over my desk, pinned against his library shelves. The forbidden feeling pushed me over the edge over and over. I was screaming his name in my head. And I didn’t think about how I would be able to face him come Monday morning.
Mostly, I didn’t care because I was so happy to have found my orgasm again. As I drifted into a deep, dreamless, sleep I decided I wouldn’t think about it at all. Perhaps I could just enjoy my fantasies without feeling any guilt or shame. Would it be possible for me to just keep this little secret without dissecting it? That would be nice, to just enjoy something without organizing it all. I decided that, maybe, I would just leave this little guilty pleasure alone; before it all went black, and I sank into unconsciousness.
≈
I woke with a jolt before my alarm the next morning, in a cold sweat. I was sprawled above the sheets, comforter on the floor, and the memory of the previous day… and night… rose up in my consciousness as if through a thick fog.
I blushed when I caught my naked body in the mirror, the sinking feeling of guilt in my stomach. I should not have let myself fantasize about him.
Of all people.
Isaac.
I ran my fingertips from my collarbone down the slope of my breasts, waist, and hips. I watched myself curiously. In the linen filtered sunlight, the shadow of my small breasts was exaggerated, the hollow between my legs completely dark. My hair brushed against my hip bones. From neglect, it had grown so long it brushed past the swell of my ass. I braided it, continuing to watch myself in the mirror.
I never really looked at myself. Not like this. Without an evil voice pointing out my flaws. I’d gained some weight from eating, drinking, and lack of running. But I didn’t really mind it. As I searched my features for flaws, I came up totally short.
Anthony’s voice used to sound in my head, “Hair too long, you need to lift weights, too flat, you need muscle not fat, though…”
However, now, I couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t even remember the sound of it. It was a relief, to be released from his memory. I felt a shift yesterday. Like I’d been tied to an enormous boulder, running in place, thrashing under a spotlight, desperate to escape. Then yesterday, just the prospect of talking to him, of any kind of reconciliation or understanding had given me inhuman strength. The ropes that tied me back, cracked and snapped and I had run. Finally run.
I would be damned if I ran into another man’s arms.
From now on. I’d be running for myself, and towards myself.
If that meant racy imaginings to reclaim myself, so be it. I wouldn’t feel bad for using Isaac to fulfill my sexual fantasies. I knew there could never be anything there, between us. Maybe that was part of the attraction, the impossibility of it. I could be completely professional while also indulging in my lust. Right?
Tons of people do this. Kieran fantasizes about him and they’re good friends. I gave myself a little nod in the mirror.
My hair hung heavily by my side. I squeezed the bit of fluff that now curved my hips outwards. I liked it. It made me feel feminine. Sexy. If the way I hardly recognized myself didn’t prove that I was healing and changed, then nothing would. Whoever this new woman was, I liked her, and I wasn’t going to apologize for my sexual nature anymore.
I was going to find myself. All of the pieces Anthony had suppressed, I was going to reclaim them.
I sat on the edge of my bed, still watching myself, and spread my legs. I brought my fingers to my clit boldly and watched myself, curious to see if I could climax on my own without a fantasy. I circled the little peak slowly, bringing feeling and pulse back between my thighs. I explored varying pressures and speeds until I found a new, softer, rhythm than I usually used. I forced my eyes open, made myself watch. I hadn’t seen myself like this in a decade. Soon I was panting, my mouth open, gasping for air. I threw my head back and let the orgasm rip through me.
CHAPTER 19
Isaac
After I got back to my flat from drinking with my friends, I'd spent most of the night flicking through television channels and scrolling aimlessly through my phone. By the time I thought I should call my mum it was almost midnight. I paced my corridor to my fridge countless times, this time choosing a handful of almonds to occupy my time, hands, and mouth.
I was just as restless in my dream state. With my consciousness subdued, my carnal fantasies ran wild. Watching Celeste work was something I had grown accustomed to. It hardly registered anymore.
Fuck. But those leggings.
I cursed whoever invented them, with a quiet thank you tacked to the end.
And then, going out with her, watching her tease me and relax in my presence. I’d gone mad with my desire for her. My dreams full of images of Celeste’s naked body under me, over me, little gasps of delight escaping her pretty rouged lips.
I woke, unsatisfied and sweating, a hand subconsciously gripping my erection in the drowsy fog of the early morning. I pulled my hand off, as if it were burning, and tried to shake away the lucid dream of her on top of me.
A shower. I needed another shower.
What had she honestly thought about my flat? It was incredibly intimate, even given the circumstances. I turned the shower lukewarm and shuddered as the water hit my skin. Hopefully she hadn’t lingered long enough to notice my fantasy and crime fiction addiction. I always hid those volumes on my nightstand when someone came over for a planned visit. For fuck’s sake, she’d rummaged through my underwear drawer, and I was fretting over whether she liked my taste in fiction!
She’d also seen me practically naked. My stomach twisted as I recalled the way she’d stammered, stared. I worked hard for this physique and I wouldn’t deny it was an ego boost to have seen her pupils dilate. Finally, an indication that she wasn’t impervious to my charm.
A fool’s errand, finding hope there.
I tried, and failed, to stop ruminating over every last moment this weekend when the air around us felt as if it were pulsing with its own heartbeat. I could be imagining her flirtation, mistaking her blush for attraction. I cut the shower short because it was too easy to slip into my circular logic within that cocoon of glass.
My phone was blowing up on the bathroom counter.
Call me when you get up. Celeste.
I scrolled up at the screenshots from social media and hit the tiny phone icon before I finished reading through her texts. There was a protest brewing in response to the government's inaction to the women in Moscow who had been arrested and beaten. There was a march swarming the streets of London calling for the extradition of Sarah Taylor after the government decided to release a statement overnight that they would not be pursuing extradition.
“Sorry to wake you. Did you see my texts?”
“I was in the shower.” Celeste went silent, even her breath was inaudible. This was the worst part about a crush, the not knowing if they feel awkward or curious at your suggestions or not. I wasn’t used to chasing and, after the last forty-eight hours or so, I was positive that either I was going to chase this woman to the ends of the earth, or I'd have to sever all ties completely to get over her.
She breathed, f
inally. “Get dressed. We have to be there.”
“You’re feeling quite demanding today.”
“I already had Payton send a company-wide email.” Her tone was bright and cocky. She knew her worth when it came to her job. I found that confidence incredibly sexy. Her playful assertion of power had me running a hand through my hair and clouded my good sense. Before I could find something witty to say back, she added in a low, mock-threatening tone, “Do as I say, Isaac, or else.” Her breathy laugh sent a shiver down my spine.
I had told her to do as I say several times in the beginning, when she was learning my way of doing things and pushing against it. I bet she had been waiting to say that, her tone meant to push me off balance.
I could play this game.
“Ever so efficient. You're such a good girl,” I let my voice drop just above a whisper. I couldn’t even look at my stupid grin in the mirror. I put her on speaker and pulled my pants on.
“I know,” she cooed back at me. “Oh! Wear your company shirt.”
“So we can match? How precious.”
“I'm rolling my eyes, just so you know.” I could hear the swishing of her clothes going over her head and legs.
“You're just so easy to tease,” I let the not-so-subtle innuendo fall between us, “I can’t help it.”
To my relief, she flirted with the line of propriety with me. “Bold of you to assume you have any effect on me at all,” she replied, her smile shining through the playful tone of her voice.
“I think I’m getting pretty good at getting under your skin.”
“Not possible. I’m dead inside,” she deadpanned.
I laughed for a second, the flat joke slicing through the flirtation of a moment before. Breaking us both from testing the waters between us.
“We both know that’s not true,” I said, silence overtaking us again. “How are you, after yesterday…”
“I’m fine,” she quipped. Her words were rushed and I felt her fidgeting on the other end of the line.
See You Monday: An Office Romance (Weekday series Book 1) Page 15