See You Monday: An Office Romance (Weekday series Book 1)

by Tiffany Costa

  She greeted me in the same tone she did every morning. “Evening Isaac,” she stepped to the landing and my breath caught in my throat. I knew I’d never hear her say good morning the same way ever again. I was making such a poor decision. Reckless. Stupid.

  I followed her in.

  “Hey,” my heartbeat fell in step with the clicking of her heels on my dark hardwood floors. She slipped the blazer off her shoulders and hung it up next to mine. Her silky pink shirt hung loosely off her shoulder, a floral, pretty, feminine top I’d seen before. She’d tucked it into a pair of dark jeans that hugged her waist and accentuated her curves.

  “I love the way you’ve done your apartment.” Her hair swept over her shoulders.

  “Thanks,” I answered, “The dark walls keep me focused.” I locked the door behind me and leaned into it.

  Celeste’s heart was in the hollow at the base of her neck, beating wildly between her pale collarbones. She was nervous, and I was comforted because I felt the same. “Good.” The syllable closed the gap between us, her hands reaching for the hem of her shirt. She pulled the shirt up but, before she could get it off over her head, I had to give her a way out of … whatever this was.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked. Celeste finished stripping the shirt and dropped it to her feet. “We don’t have to… just because we had a moment before,” I could hardly get the words out. She revealed a lacy one-piece, a leotard, but made completely of pink lace, the blush color of her nipples peeking through. I had to tear my eyes from her to speak.

  Celeste was a centimeter away from me in two strides. She slipped her hands to my hips and ran them tentatively up my body to rest on my chest. I bent slightly to meet her upturned face, her eyes bright with desire. I waited for her reply. I wanted her verbal consent, needed it. I held the door handle behind me so tightly my palms ached from the strain of not touching her.

  “I want you to, kindly,” she feigned a British accent, “fuck me into next week.” I felt her lips against mine as she whispered, her breath minty and cool against me. I could feel my heartbeat in my bottom lip. Aching for her to close the gap between us.

  “Sure thing, boss,” I whispered. I released my grip on the handle and let Celeste tug my shirt up to my chest. I couldn’t stand it any longer, so I flicked my tongue out to catch her bottom lip. She tasted like strawberry lip gloss, and mint, and forbidden fruit. I had to take my time tonight. I wouldn’t hurry the fantasies I’d kept private all this time. Just in case she was hell-bent on keeping this a one-time deal, despite our earlier flirtation with this becoming… a thing.

  God, I want this to be a thing in the worst way.

  She closed her eyes and kissed me sweetly, gently, having lost her boldness. I coaxed her mouth open and when our tongues touched she melted against me, a soft moan escaping her, as if kissing me was the greatest pleasure she’d known. Her breath became jagged, her hips pressing into my erection, almost painfully. She reached to my belt and unfastened it, I dropped my head back with a thud against the door. She trailed kisses down my chest and stomach, unzipping my pants and starting to get to her knees.

  Coming to my senses, I pulled her hands up around my neck and grabbed her thighs, wrapping them around my waist. If she continued that decent to the floor I wouldn’t last more than a minute. She let out a little yelp and laughed against my neck. I’d never carried a woman to my room, never wanted to show that kind of enthusiasm, show my hand only to get played later. I tossed her on the bed, coming over her. She could destroy me, this woman. She made me into another man entirely, and with her cool hands running down my spine, I couldn’t care any less.

  “I,” a kiss to her cheek, “am” I tasted her neck, kissed along her collar bone between every word until I met her shoulder, “in no rush.”

  “I don’t really know what I’m doing,” she blurted. She slapped her hand to her mouth. I bolted upright, straddling her hips.

  Shit. “Are you a virgin?” The thought had never occurred to me that she might have saved herself… till marriage. And here I was throwing her onto my bed like I owned her.

  “No. But, um… I… don’t have a lot of experience. So, I’m nervous. And I’ve never felt like this. And…”

  Celeste McAlaster, flustered? Unable to precisely express herself? I was dreaming.

  I couldn’t contain my delight as her hips wiggled under me, pushing up into my balls. “Like what?” I peeled a hand from her face where she hid and laced my fingers with hers.

  She squirmed under me, “Like I want you now. As in, like, right now. I don’t know how to explain it. Just kissing you is going to make me explode and I’ve never even had,” she whispered the next words as if revealing a dark secret, “an orgasm with anyone before. So just, please,” She blushed everywhere, and I felt a piece of my heart fracture, but didn't shy away from the knowledge that this woman could shatter me. And she probably would.

  “I feel the same way, love.”

  “So, why are you going so slow!” She reached for my neck and pulled me down.

  “It’ll be better for you,” I ran a lazy hand up to her breast and she whimpered into my kiss as I stroked the hardened peak. “And I think I might enjoy torturing you. A little payback for all those times you’ve teased me.”

  She gave me a confused look.

  “That navy pencil skirt you wear, or the way you pull your hair back with those bloody scarves.”

  She grinned. “Mister Thompson, have you been watching me?”

  “All the time. And if you knew the dirty, filthy, things I think when you stretch while you’re reading, you would run from this bed screaming.”

  Celeste smiled up at me, playful, impatient. “Maybe not.”

  I undid the button of her jeans. Left a trail of kisses down her belly as I spoke, reveling in the way her back arched. I caught the small of her back and settled her. “When you work on my sofa, I can’t even look at you because all I can think of is how good you’ll taste.” I nipped her hip and she bucked under me. I laughed into the curve of her waist. “I like this leotard, I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “It’s called a teddy.” Her hands gripped the bed, as if speech was painful.

  I slipped her jeans down her legs and tossed them. She had a short torso and long legs that she crossed together under me. I nibbled on her hip again. “I’ve thought about tasting you, right here, every single day I’ve known you.” I slipped my fingers between her legs.

  She sat up. “You don’t have to do that, it’s okay if you don’t like it.”

  That’s not part of the script.

  “Darling, I know this isn’t the best time to say this… But what kind of selfish pricks have you been sleeping with?”

  “None. Just one. I’m really not… I haven’t ever really experimented.” She laughed, the tension between us easing up a bit. I could sense her chattiness was her nerves. I didn’t mind talking if it meant she’d feel more comfortable with me later.

  “Celeste,” I kissed a line from her navel down to the soft mound between her legs. “Just relax and trust me, I think myself very selfish when I eat pussy. It’s one of my favorite meals.”

  Celeste bit her lip and opened her thighs for me. The sight of the pink lace covering her beautiful pink sex made my erection uncomfortable. I tore off my jeans and laid between her. Celeste’s calf muscle was smooth against my hand, and she’d applied some lovely flowery moisturizer.

  I kissed the delicate skin of her inner thigh, traced the outline of her cunt with my tongue, not touching any of the lace just yet. She fell back onto the bed, and I waited for her hands in my hair. I stroked and teased all around, but nowhere near the bundle of nerves that were waiting for me.

  “Please,” she hissed.

  I kissed her through the already soaked lace. She smelled divine, woman, sweet.

  “Isaac, please,” she begged, her fingers at my scalp. I pulled the lace to the side, revealing, kissing her softly for the first time. Resisting
the urge to feast hungrily on her. She tasted so fucking good. My mouth watered in anticipation, I wanted to plunge my tongue deep inside of her, lick up her passion until she was spent and satisfied. I had to talk myself down and remind myself this was about her, and not me.

  Her thighs were only open just enough to signal she was feeling self-conscious. I let her feel my moan against her center as I took my time circling her clit, taking note of her reactions. She gasped when I found just the right spot. “Do you like it like this?” I asked, already knowing from her little breaths what her answer was. I slipped a finger inside her and she moaned, thrusting her hips hard against me. When she relaxed around me, I thrust a second one in. She was soft and velvety against my tongue. It was easy to stay in the right spot, but damn near impossible to control myself and stay at the slow tempo that made her grind up into me. I kissed her until she whimpered and her breath started to come in shorter, ecstasy laced gasps.

  I felt her tighten around my fingers once. Twice.

  “It feels so good,” she gasped as I felt another tightening around my fingers and a subtle pulse on my tongue. I stayed steady, letting her grind against me. “It feels so.” She bolted up to her elbows, looking down at me, “Isaac wait… I,” her thighs clamped around me and she cried out, dropping back to the bed, pleasure rippling through her, around me. I swallowed her orgasm, more than a little bit cocky that I’d brought her to ecstasy.

  § Celeste §

  I’d never felt like that before. I panted, gasping, swallowing air. My climax ripped through me, touching every last piece of my tingling flesh. Isaac tried to hold me still, but I couldn’t… couldn’t stand it. His tongue was wicked and practiced, and the way he moaned into my pussy while he devoured me drove me mad with desire. I cupped my mouth to stifle my cries, but he grabbed my wrist and pinned it down to my side.

  “I want to hear you,” he demanded. And I let him. His tongue came over me again, his fingers still pumping inside. I rode his moans until I was spent and pushing him away.

  Isaac kissed my lips, muffling the last of my moans. I could taste myself on him. Sweet and coppery. Nothing like I thought I tasted like. His fingers calmed and stroked me lazily on the inside. But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t full enough. I felt an aching emptiness.

  “That’s my good girl,” he whispered into my ear and the heat of his breath caused my pussy to tighten.

  I reached for his cock and studied the weight of him in my hands. Long, solid, a bead of cum already dribbled at the tip. It excited me to feel his arousal. He peeled my teddy off of me, sliding it down my legs and kissing me everywhere on the way up. The heat was starting to build again as I stroked him, enjoying the way he groaned and stopped my hand with his.

  “Do you want me inside of you?” He asked against my lips.

  I reached around to his tight ass and pulled him down between my legs. He slipped inside of me so quickly I gasped, I’d never been so wet. He let out a breath, his mouth falling open, his eyes closed. When our eyes met he thrust deeper into me. I let out an encouraging moan and he slid out slowly, letting me feel every inch of him before driving back into me.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he hitched my leg up over him and wrapped his hand around me, grabbing my ass. We were a tangle of movement, moaning, and pleasure.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged, reaching for a second orgasm, unashamed of my selfishness. His low growl when he sheathed himself entirely in my wetness traveled through me and I grabbed a fistful of his hair so that I could whimper into his ear and let him know I was close.

  So close.

  The world dissolved around us, and there was nothing else. Just this feeling growing in our core, the pressure building between us. Our breath dancing, intertwining until the sudden build came to a halt and rolled over crashing, fracturing. Broken shards of who we were spilled out into the bedroom. When our eyes met, we were something new. Something safe. Something vulnerable and wonderful.

  Panting, sweaty, and delighted, I kissed his shoulder. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

  Isaac pulled my gaze back to his, half his face illuminated by the light of the window, the other half in complete darkness. “Next time, hopefully, I won’t come so fucking quick. Damn it woman, you’re bloody perfect.”

  I smiled into his chest while he kissed the top of my head. It was intimate. Like we’d entered this other realm. I wasn’t expecting to feel this… this safety and ease underneath him. I scooted away and he reached for my wrist.

  “I’m not done with you yet, boss.” He pulled me back to him and aligned our bodies, kissing my shoulder and neck.

  “Me neither.” I laughed and pushed away from him.

  “Bathroom is over there. Closet’s attached.” He pointed to a door opposite the bed. “Meet me in the kitchen.” He kissed my neck again and disappeared pulling on a pair of boxer briefs on the way out.

  I pulled on a pair of his boxer briefs and a white tee shirt. I ran my fingers across all of his clothes, curious about the different textures and colors felt against my skin. I’d been here before, but on a mission. Not by invitation, and certainly not naked.

  Isaac called out to me. “How do you like your eggs? Do you even like eggs?”

  “Sunny side up,” I called back. I braided my hair after searching for a comb, or a brush, or anything I could undo the tangles with. He didn’t own any of that. There wasn’t a single feminine thing in his bathroom, but at least he didn’t use three-in-one shampoo.

  I walked through the apartment as I finished my braid, taking note that there wasn’t a single clock anywhere. But books were… everywhere. His nightstand alone housed three novels by the same author. Murder mysteries. Large print editions that were fat and heavy. I built up my courage, emerging from the hallway into the kitchen and living area. He stood at the stove, the delicious smell of eggs, sausage, and toast made my stomach growl. He was shirtless, his rippling lean muscles enticing me to have him again.

  Who was I? I’d never wanted sex more than once, ever.

  Isaac looked over at me and grinned. “Does it kill you that my clothes aren’t color coordinated?”

  “A little bit,” I laughed.

  “I bet you can’t believe how clean this place is.” He turned the knob of the stove off and leaned against the countertop, his expression accusing.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “My maid comes twice a week. She holds this place together. Without her, it’d be a wreck.” He set two plates down and divided the food between the two, laughing.

  “Ah, I knew it. I hope you pay her a king’s ransom.” I sat at the counter stool next to him and smiled into my food. I was hungry, but my stomach fluttered, making it hard to concentrate on eating. My whole body felt electric, buzzing with life and… happiness? No, it was deeper than that. I felt, powerful. In control, and at ease. Sexy.

  “I pay her whatever she asks and then some.” Isaac grinned, “I don’t pretend I’m not an absolute disaster.”

  Isaac finished in minutes and turned to me, resting his chin on his hand, his other hand climbing up my calf and stroking me lazily, as if he wasn’t even aware of his movements.

  “So where did you grow up?” he asked.

  “Connecticut.”

  “Far from the city?”

  “No,” I covered my laugh with my hand. “My town practically borders New York. My dad works in the city. The commute is about an hour with traffic. Takes forever to get through the Bronx.”

  “What does your father do?”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I hated this question. “My dad works on Wall Street.”

  Isaac’s eyebrows hitched to his hairline. “Really? I don’t know why I’m so shocked.”

  “I don’t like to tell people about it. You know, rich white girl becomes a human rights activist. It screams rich white girl savior complex. Not a good look. But it’s what people assume immediately when they find out about my upbringing.

 
“I never got that impression from you or your writing. I actually imagined you were a much older person before we met.”

  “How’d you think that? My picture is on the website.”

  “As if I check the website, Celeste. You just write very, how do I put it, sensitive to the culture and people in your research. There’s a depth in your writing, like, you’re writing from their perspective, not that of an American looking in. You’re very eloquent. I admire it.”

  I beamed. “Thank you.” I accepted his compliment graciously.

  We fell into an easy conversation. I learned that Isaac played soccer growing up, and played in a local league for fun now as an adult. I told him I never played a sport in my life, to which he laughed. He admitted he used audiobooks in conjunction with the hard-cover text because that’s how his middle school reading specialist helped him catch up to his class.

  “She was great. I was diagnosed pretty late in my schooling, and it’s a crutch I kept to this day. If I didn’t, I’d never finish a novel for pleasure.” He dropped a cup of tea in front of me and asked me about the greatest place I’d ever visited.

  As I finished a story about a vacation I’d taken to Sri Lanka, I noticed his gaze dropping to my chest. “I’m up here,” I teased.

  “Are you? I’m recalling a time when perhaps you wanted my attention a bit lower,” Isaac stood, pulled me against him, and nipped my ear.

  CHAPTER 25

  Celeste

  My body reacted instantly, nipples hardening against his chest. I pushed up into him, hoping he could sense my instant arousal. I felt his evil smile against my lips.

  We stumbled down the hallway, tearing the clothes from our skin and grabbing at each other. We laughed like giddy first-timers into each other’s kisses, our movements clumsy and frantic, tripping over each other as he stripped me down. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so young and vibrant.