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

by Tiffany Costa

  Isaac pinned me to the wall in his room and teased my neck. I ran my hands along the taught muscles of his back and shoulders, enraptured by his desire for me. The way he moaned with me and groaned my name as our naked bodies writhed in a pleasure so acute it almost hurt. His fingers slipped between my legs and I pushed him away.

  He looked confused for a second, but then followed me as, in a moment of out of character boldness, I went to the bed, kneeling against the edge. I looked back at him, lust thrumming in my veins, an invitation to have me. I needed him inside of me. I didn’t want the slow and passionate sex from before. I wanted him to ride me hard, into sweet oblivion.

  I pushed back into him as he approached, his cock at my entrance. Isaac gave me a playful spank, “You drive me mad.” He gripped my hips and lowered to my ear. “Say it,” he demanded.

  “Please,” I pleaded.

  He ran his hand up my spine, I arched against the pressure. “Please what?” His voice was husky and commanding.

  Pull my hair.

  I pushed my hips back into him, he pulled back away from me.

  “Tell me what you want.” His gaze was searing and mischievous.

  “I want you to fuck me,” I whispered.

  “What was that, love?” His voice was saccharine and I hated him in that moment.

  I thrust back into him, taking him inside me, the pleasure rippling through my abdomen and resting in my spine. He moaned at the invasion.

  I cried out when he pulled out and rested outside of me again, denying me, teasing me by sliding against my clit. His grip on my hips tensed. “Do you want me inside of you?”

  “Yes,” I said into the mess of white linens under me.

  He entered, slowly, inch by inch, I sighed in relief. “Do you like it rough, Celeste?”

  “I think so, yes,” I whimpered. I wanted him to want me. To feel the thrill I felt at my own filthy thoughts. “Do you feel how wet I am?” I stretched my arms in front of me, arching up into him, grinding my hips so that his tip hit me in that one perfect, tender spot.

  “Fuck,” he groaned, picking up his pace.

  I squeezed around him, intensifying my pleasure. “Do you feel that?” I asked.

  He hummed my name. “If you keep talking dirty to me, I’m not going to last.”

  It sent a ripple of sensual pride through me. I’d never been bold enough to talk during sex. Isaac’s worshipping grip on me took me out of my head and into my body, lavishing in the feel of it. I rocked myself back and forth, stroking him, stroking myself. He reached a hand around me and pressed his fingers to my clit. I gasped and basked in the primal pleasure of it. I stilled my movements and he drove into me. I begged him to go faster, harder.

  I wanted more. More feeling. Deeper. I wanted him to… to have me completely. I wanted him to fuck me the way I dreamt up in my fantasies. With him, I felt safe enough to ask. “Hit me,” I said. He stilled a moment. I yelped as he struck me. I wasn’t surprised by my body’s reaction. I’d spanked myself before while masturbating, but I was surprised that it sent me almost over the edge. I pushed back into him, hard, and he kissed my back, biting my sides.

  “Celeste. I can’t.” He moaned, driving into me, meeting my backwards thrusts. “You feel so fucking good.”

  “I’m so close,” I whimpered. “Don’t stop.” He spanked me again and the stinging pleasure reverberated over me. I tossed my head over my shoulder to find him grinding up into me, watching me. He closed his eyes, a pained expression stitching his brows. His lips parted as he gasped.

  Isaac pulled out of me and flipped me over to face him. He spread my thighs wide, rough, and dropped his head between my legs. He flicked his tongue over my clit. “Come for me,” he demanded against the throbbing pink flesh.

  “I can’t. It feels so good, I just can’t.”

  “You like this?” He slipped his fingers inside of me and stroked me gently against a swollen pleasureful spot I’d never known existed.

  “Yes,” I panted, “fuck, yes. Why can’t I come?” I was so close, but I couldn’t finish, I was so aroused, every sound, texture, and touch overwhelming me. “I just want,” I breathed, unable to finish my sentence.

  Isaac came to my mouth and kissed me, his finger still petting gently inside of me. “You’re at the edge. I’m going to come inside of you again and I want you to relax, don’t squeeze around me, just push like you want me out.”

  I nodded, understanding what he meant. He flipped me and brought me to my knees, spreading them with his thighs and settling between me. Isaac grabbed my hands in his and pressed them against his headboard. Bracing ourselves against the mahogany wood he entered me from behind, his lips at my ear, my head resting back on his shoulder. His cock stroked that sensitive spot where his finger had been, and I did as I was told.

  “Like that, yes.” He whispered into my ear. He reached between my legs again with one hand, but instead of circling my clit, he just rested his fingers there, cradling my sensitive sex. “Do you like it when I fuck you like this?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re so fucking sexy. Come for me, Celeste.” I could tell he was close by the way his voice turned to gravel at my name and he gasped into my neck.

  I felt the first shock of my orgasm contract around him.

  “That’s it,” he kept the pace slow and steady. Deep, hard strokes that had my body reaching for release.

  I stifled my cries, clenching my jaw shut.

  Isaac’s hand slid up my body and rested on my throat. “Don’t you dare hold back with me.” He drove into me slower, harder. “I won't let you finish if you’re quiet.”

  “Isaac, it’s too much,” I bucked back into him, my legs shaking. Our voices reverberated around us in the quiet night. He stilled behind me and stroked his fingers against my throat, a silent demand. I whimpered and moaned as I lifted myself and dropped down once, twice, in hard strokes.

  “Good girl,” Isaac caught my earlobe in his teeth. His hand slipped between my legs again, the gentle pressure against my clit had me begging for release.

  Isaac took control again and thrust into me, losing himself to his orgasm, a low growl into my ear as he gripped my hip with one hand, the other still laced with mine against the headboard, slamming into me while I shook in his arms. My orgasm rippled around him over and over and I felt a rush of slick wetness run down my thighs. He swore into my neck and kissed me as his release ended.

  I was panting, gasping for air. Isaac slipped his fingers back to my clit and stroked me with a featherlight caress, testing the feel of my cum while I rode him, slowly grinding out the last of my orgasm. Satisfied to every millimeter of my being.

  He let out a breathy chuckle into my nape as he collapsed to sitting back on his heels, taking me onto his lap with him. “You’re the best sex I’ve ever had.” My thighs spread wide for him as we both explored the aftermath of our lovemaking. It wasn’t like in the pornos, I hadn’t gushed liters. It was just enough to trickle down my thigh, warm and silky. It had only ever happened twice when I was alone. I was glad Isaac was the first to give me that, to see me completely surrender to my body.

  “Really?” I asked, still high on my orgasm. I rolled my head back onto his shoulder, catching my breath. He kissed my neck. My body was buzzing in the aftermath, struggling to come back to reality after the most intense petite mort.

  “Without a doubt.” He kissed my lips gently. “This is not going to be a one-night thing.”

  I didn’t protest, because I felt exactly the same way. I didn’t flinch or cringe or think anything while I watched as he shamelessly brought his fingers to his lips and tasted me.

  “I’m never going to have enough of you.” He kissed me again, on my cheek, his hands caressing my whole body while I sat limp against him. “Who would have guessed Celeste McAlaster, color coordination aficionado was an absolute minx?”

  I thought, coming here, that I was going to have mediocre sex, like always. Then the fantasy of him wou
ld dissolve, and I’d never desire him again. I’d feel foolish and it would be awkward for a while until we both agreed the sex was bad and we were better as partners at work. We could laugh it off and pretend the whole thing was just about me getting back on the horse, so to speak.

  Instead, I was sitting on his lap, sweating, and already anticipating the next time.

  CHAPTER 26

  Isaac

  “We cannot have sex in the office,” she said as I led her by the hand into my glass shower.

  I was disappointed at that, but I respected it. We should keep this separate from work. This woman before me didn’t even seem like the same woman I knew at the office. “I suppose not,” I said as I pulled the hair tie out of her braid and bent to plant a kiss on the back of her neck. Celeste arched against me and turned the water further up to scalding. She held her hands up to the falling water, testing it with her fingertips while I undid her braid. It was like undoing and running my fingers through a hank of luxurious silk.

  When the water was adequately boiling, she turned to face me, turning her head up under the water, her breasts pressing into me. “And no random gifts or anything like that.” Her nose wrinkled like she found something repulsive.

  “No Romeo shit. Got it.” Fuck’s sake she had no idea how much willpower it was taking to not run my hands all over her. If she wasn’t setting boundaries, I’d have been on my knees already, drowning blissfully in between her thighs. It wouldn’t be such a bad way to die, I thought.

  “Did you think it was weird that I asked you to hit me?”

  “No. Of course not. If you’re secretly kinky, I’ll buy a whip tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know. I guess we will find out.” She sniffed my shampoo and giggled, “It smells so manly.” I loved her laughter, breathy, rolling over only after most of the air was from her lungs. Quiet. Shy.

  I drew nonsense words into her spine as if taking notes. “Experiment. Spanking… good. Praise kink… yes.”

  Celeste feigned an annoyed look over her shoulder, rolling her eyes dramatically.

  “Don’t get coy with me. I’ll spank you right here.” I grabbed a handful of her ass in my palm and squeezed. She yelped and erupted in laughter.

  “Maybe I should spank you.”

  “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I warned. “I love your hair,” I said, admiring the way it glistened through the steam.

  “Oh this,” she handed me the sopping wet weight. I bounced it, imagining how thick and heavy it must be on her scalp. “I have to cut it. It’s too much. Look.” I dropped it and she submerged it under the water and turned. I admired her ass first, then saw that her hair rested just above her crack. It was even longer wet.

  “Just to here,” I suggested pointing to a place right above her tailbone, where the curve of her spine started outward.

  “I’ve been so busy I haven’t gone to a salon.”

  “Does your boss run you ragged?”

  “He works me day and night.” She faked a pretty decent British accent. We laughed together. It felt so natural to be here with her. Easy. This should be so awkward and painful. I should be rushing her out of my flat and cursing my dick for getting me here.

  Instead, I pulled her scorching body to me and enjoyed the slippery wetness of sharing a shower with a lovely woman. “Then he should definitely be punished.”

  She lifted to her toes and pecked my lips. “Do you own a comb of any sort?”

  “No,” I admitted sheepishly.

  “Then I’m going to be here a while, you don’t have to stay.” She pumped an enormous golf ball size of conditioner into her palm. She twirled her hair into a rope and smothered every last inch in the conditioner. And it wasn’t enough. She added another golf ball.

  “Christ, woman, how do you deal with all that length?”

  “I use cheap conditioner.” She smiled wickedly. “Unless you’re going to help me finger detangle, be prepared to be covered in hair. You brought me into this shower, now we both must suffer the consequences.”

  I weighed my options. Staying as close to her naked body as possible was the better option by a long shot. “Can I help?”

  She separated her hair in half and handed it to me. I followed her lead and broke away small sections, using my fingers to rake the conditioner through. Her hair was slippery and soft. And all over my hands. “Does this hurt? Is this normal?” I showed her my hand, tangled with hair I’d pulled out.

  She threw her head back laughing. “Don’t worry, you’re not ripping it out. And that’s nothing.” She held up her hand, a little furball neatly built in her palm.

  “Ew!” I shouldn’t have been so openly grossed out, but it sent a shiver down my spine.

  She laughed even harder. “I guess we’re learning a lot about each other tonight.”

  “We’ll win Newlyweds next time for sure.”

  “Like this,” she showed me how to hold my hand under the running water and make the little balls.

  “I’m disgusted, yet intrigued.”

  “You’re getting better at it,” she encouraged me with a cheeky grin. I worked on the rest of the hair she’d given me, and when I finished, I exited the shower and let her rinse out the conditioner while I toweled off. I disappeared into my closet and put on some boxer briefs. If she wanted me again, she could have me. However, I didn’t want her to feel pressured by my erection.

  She turned the water to the cold side and tilted her head back. Her hair hung away from her body as she arched into the stream. Her nipples hardened, her ass curving back at the base of her spine. I could go again, I thought, but I’d take her lead. It was close to half-past four in the morning. The sun would start to rise soon.

  I gave her two towels, and she thanked me. I waited in the bed for her. Celeste emerged a few minutes later wrapped in a towel, hair back in a braid, eyes searching for her forgotten clothes. A pang of disappointment hit me, and with it, a twinge of something else—longing or hurt—I couldn’t quite place the feeling. I just knew I didn’t want her to leave.

  I wasn’t ready for her to leave.

  “Stay the night,” I patted the spot next to me, my stomach in knots, anticipating rejection.

  Celeste bit her bottom lip to hide her smile. “Okay. Let me text Kieran.”

  Celeste entered the bed, unsure of herself, unsure of me. I erased any questions she had by pulling her into me, two spoons in a mass of wrinkled sheets. I followed her lead, pressing my body into the spaces of hers. I wasn’t being polite. I wanted her here, anticipating the warmth of a woman sleeping next to me. I nibbled on her ear, “What did you say to Kieran?”

  “I said I met someone at the club and was trying the one-night stand thing.”

  My body tensed.

  “I’ve never had a one-night stand,” she mused, toying with my fingers.

  I relaxed into her again. “They’re awful,” I said. I hated it—the impersonal fucking. In college it was a part of my weekend endeavors. I came to hate the empty feeling of forgetting a woman’s name. Or realizing she might not even remember mine. I hated the awkward goodbyes and the fake promises to call.

  Or worse, when the number was a false one.

  She sighed, a little hum vibrating in her back against my chest. I felt her weight drop into the mattress, relax trustingly against me.

  “I’ve never done this. Just sex,” she whispered against the arm I’d slipped under her neck. “I thought I’d hate myself, but I don’t.”

  “There’s nothing to hate.” I ran my hand down the slope of her waist and up the curve of her hip. I could feel her smile against my forearm, sense the happiness in her chest. She pushed herself back into me, pressing her whole body closer to mine. I found myself fighting sleep, soaking up this connection forming between us over mere hours, where before we were just… colleagues. Sure, a colleague I had a massive boyish crush on… but now it had shifted from possibility to reality, and I didn’t want to fall asleep for fear that I’d wake up an
d she'd regret it. The way she’d rejected me after that snog in the alleyway. I ushered my fears out the door, and added, “For someone with such little experience, you’re quite sexy.”

  “You think so?”

  I pulled her hips to me and slipped my leg between hers. At this angle she could feel my erection bulging hard against her ass.

  “Oh.” She buried her face into the pillow, shyly. Dawn was creeping through my curtains, tinting the inky blackness with the first day’s light.

  “Don’t leave when you wake up. I want to fuck you at least seventeen more times before Monday morning.”

  Her response was a breathy giggle and a kiss on my palm. A gesture so intimate it seared my skin with its innocent affection, meaning nothing more but goodnight to her. As we both teetered on the edge of sleep, I felt like I was standing on a ledge, facing a bed of knives made of the little lies I told myself these past two months: Oh, if I could just have her once I’d stop wanting her. She’d be terrible in bed. We wouldn’t have chemistry. She doesn’t want me.

  But the way Celeste’s petite frame curled up next to me, her breath steady, little hums escaping at the end of her deepest breaths, was a turn-on I’d never experienced. I shifted my hips away from her, feeling my erection was a little disrespectful. I never let women stay the night unless they were more than friends… more than fuck buddies. I’d also never wanted like this before.

  And so, I fell onto that bed of knives, tripping over every stupid, sorry, excuse I’d conjured up to keep my desire in control. This was going to end so badly for me.

  Oh well. I thought as the scent of my soap stained her skin and hair. I grinned into her braid and kissed her there, willing my thoughts to shut the fuck up while she slept in my arms.

  CHAPTER 27

  Celeste

  Someone called my name. Distant, faint, low. I tried to drag myself into consciousness, my mind honey thick in deep, restful sleep.

  Again they called my name, a tickling sensation at my ear. And hands, stroking long and lazy all up my torso and sweeping down my legs. As my mind surfaced, I felt the warm touch of summer sun on my face and the delightful weight of another body over me.