“And I know,” he stood then, coming around the desk to stand in front of me, leaning back against it slightly, “that I said something about how nice it was that she didn’t insult me.”
I looked away in embarrassment, remembering how uncomfortable I felt for not giving him due praise. “But I hope you know,” he continued gently, reaching out to tilt my chin up so we locked eyes again. “How little I enjoy flattery and false admiration.”
“You’d much rather be called arrogant and socially awkward?” I asked with a bit of a teasing smile, my eyebrow raised in question.
“Yes,” he replied with a slight dip of his head. “Because at least then I know you’re being honest.”
“Well, that was incredibly good timing.” I told him, ignoring a slight shy, awkward feeling for what I was about to say. “I was just thinking that maybe I should tell you, at least once, how brilliant and talented and handsome I think you are.” I had to admit that I enjoyed the slow grin of pride and pleasure that took over his face at my words. “But, since you aren’t into that sort of thing…”
“Wait,” he said, the smile still lingering on his face. “Say it once more, and let me be sure. There’s something about the tone of your voice, or maybe the inflection in your words, that makes me think I might have been too hasty.”
I returned his smile, but of course I didn’t repeat myself. He leaned closer until his face was inches from mine. We had rarely even been friendly at work, let alone so blatantly flirty. “Maybe, it’s your mouth that makes all the difference.” Despite his words and close proximity, I was surprised when he closed the gap between us and kissed me. Still, it was a sweet kiss, and I sighed contently.
The door was shut and the curtains to his office closed. It was late in the day, and a Friday besides, so there was hardly anyone left in the building; anyway, there was no one, not even his secretary, who would come barging in unannounced. So, although this was our riskiest behavior yet, it really wasn’t all that risky.
“Will you come over tonight?” he asked softly when he pulled back. “I bought the newest Avengers movie.” He was referencing, I suppose, my conversation with Char last week at the club, where we both expressed a desire to see the movie. The significance of his reference wasn’t lost on me. He had actually gone out and bought the movie when he learned I’d wanted to see it, especially when our last conversation was basically a fight that had made me think we would be ending our little affair.
“Sounds fun,” I agreed with a small smile.
We left the office separately, of course. He still had to finish up on some stuff and I went home to change. Since it was pretty clear I would be staying the night, I actually had the advantage of packing an overnight bag.
“What are you up to tonight?” Jane asked when I came out of the shower.
“Oh, nothing really,” I said, which was probably an incredible stupid thing to say when it was so clear I was dressing up to go out.
Not that I was really all that dressed up; it was a clear sign, though, that I intended to be out among civil society when I made the effort to tame my wild curls into a respectable style rather than the much easier option of flattening them down as much as possible and tying them back in a ponytail.
“I thought I might stop by and see what Charlottes is up to; maybe see a movie. What about you?”
“Charlie got us tickets to see Les Mis,” she smiled with obvious excitement.
“Nice,” I said with approval.
We spent some time discussing cast members and our favorite characters, songs, and scenes. Soon, though, Jane took over the bathroom and I told her I would probably be gone before she left. I checked my phone, which I had plugged in on my nightstand, to see Darcy had texted me to let me know he was home and I could come by anytime. With one last mental check, I headed out.
“Hey,” he said with a particularly adorable smile as he opened the door to his condo. He was in jeans and a polo shirt; I wasn’t sure I had ever seen him so dressed down.
“Hey,” I smiled back, enjoying this rare sighting of casual Darcy. He stepped back and I entered.
There was a bit of awkwardness initially; the conversation between us was stunted and uncomfortable. Finally, I pretended nothing had changed, that he was still the same old Darcy I knew, and we eased into familiar banter.
We watched the movie, and, predictably, ended up in bed soon afterwards. I woke rather early, but had no motivation to run back home so soon. As I’m sure is normal for a lot of people, I had a habit of checking my phone first thing, but for the life of me I couldn’t find it. It was early, but even the low light of dawn wasn’t making it through what I soon realized must be black-out curtains.
“What are you doing?” Darcy finally grumbled, sitting up slightly on his elbows.
“Why do you live in a cave? I can’t find my phone. Call it, will you?” I asked from the edge of the bed.
He grunted, but did as I asked. The ringing came from his side, so he reached down and pulled up my pants, which I had been searching for in vain so long. He pulled out my phone and handed it out to me, tossing my pants back onto the floor.
When I reached for it, he relinquished the device, but grasped my wrist and tugged me towards him. To stop myself from falling headfirst into his chest I braced myself with one hand on his right side and my other, which was still grasping my phone, on his left.
“Morning,” he rumbled, smiling slyly.
“Morning,” I rolled my eyes at his actions, but leaned forward and kissed him just under and to the left of his chin. “Can I check my phone now?”
“Are you asking my permission?” The slight uplift of his mouth and raised eyebrows were teasing.
“Absolutely not,” I replied dismissively, pulling back and turning so I was lying beside him once more. He made a disappointed noise and stopped leaning on his elbows so he was lying flat once more.
As I had guessed, Jane had texted me to let me know she was staying at Charlie’s place, probably until Sunday night. Charlotte had also let me know she was out on a date and wanted to get together for a meal this weekend. If it weren’t for my clandestine affair with the boss, I might have actually felt alone last night, with both Jane and Charlotte out on dates.
I rolled over to put my phone on the side table and turned back to see Darcy was already reaching for me. I curled back into his side, throwing a leg over his and resting my head in the crook of his neck. I felt his arm wrap around me, resting against my back as I absently traced a random pattern on his chest.
“I want an omelet,” I murmured softly after a few minutes of silence.
“Now?” he asked with a bit of a grunt. I smiled, beginning to discover he was not a morning person.
“No,” I replied, “Eventually.” He made a sound of agreement, and then fell back into silence.
I always had a hard time falling back asleep once I was awake in the morning, but it was clear he was not ready to get up yet and I was reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed. Eventually, much later than he did, I fell back asleep.
∞∞∞
I woke up again and he was gone. I was surprised he’d managed to slip out without me waking, as I’m generally a light sleeper. As I slipped on my underwear and a t-shirt, I realized the bathroom door was open halfway, and I heard the shower going. Moving towards it, I saw Darcy was rinsing shampoo from his hair.
I couldn’t help but be impressed with the shower. It was large, taking up almost half of the room. It was set in the corner, and instead of glass or a curtain, it simply had a half wall separating the rest of the bathroom from it. There were multiple shower heads and, from the looks of it, powerful water pressure. In other words, a far cry from my own dingy shower, with its weak pressure and five-minute wait time for hot water.
“Morning,” he greeted, turning to see me creeping in the doorway. “Coming to join me?”
“No way,” I scoffed with a smirk, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed.
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“Why not?” he asked with surprise.
“It never works.” I answered, shaking my head. “No one ever really gets clean, and shower sex is just uncomfortable, and awkward, and, by the end of it, cold.”
He leaned his arms on the half wall and gave me a look. “Maybe you just haven’t been with someone who knows what they’re doing.”
I gave a small laugh at his arrogance, but still shook my head.
He cocked his head back, inviting me closer. “You haven’t seen the best part.”
Curious but cautious of a trap, I slowly inched closer to him. He slid over to where there was a gap in the half wall, where you got in and out of the shower.
“What?” I asked warily, looking around at what he could be referring to, but also keeping an eye on him.
“This,” he said, shooting a hand out to grab my arm.
“No!” I protested, turning to get away, but he wrapped his other arm around me and hugged me to him, my back against his chest as he backed us into the warm spray of the water.
“Darcy,” I whined, but ruined it by giggling as I playfully elbowed his chest. I felt him laugh in my ear, his arms still holding me tight up against him as I half-heartedly tried to wiggle out of his grasp. I was instantly soaked, of course, but he seemed to enjoy slowly peeling my wet shirt off of me.
At that point, what could I do but give him a chance? As usual, he was in no rush, and I foresaw freezing water being rained down on us fairly soon. After the lathering started, though, the mechanics of what we were attempting slipped my mind and I was caught up in the feeling of him everywhere.
Once again I was struck by how it felt like he was one hundred percent focused on me. His sharp attention and single-mindedness was no joke; anyone who saw him work could attest to how he shut everything else out to be completely concentrated on what he was doing.
There was more to it than how in-tune we were with each other, though. Surprisingly, it was also fun. Not to be overly critical of past lovers, but the fact that Darcy of all people was the first to make sex fun rather than just enjoyable came as a bit of a shock.
Without words, we teased each other and, with usually not much more than a glance, messages and intentions were conveyed between us; it wasn’t unusual for him to make me giggle or for me to elicit a smirk from him. He was passionate as well, and there was an undeniable spark between us that simmered under the surface when we were out in public together that just came to life whenever we were alone, and especially when we were near enough to touch.
Also, I just loved kissing him; and from the time he spent doing it, he seemed to love kissing me. Whatever awkwardness and problems we faced outside, we actually seemed to be incredibly compatible in bed. And, as I discovered, in the shower.
True to his word, my hair got washed and he was very, very thorough cleaning other places as well. By the time he turned the water off, it was lukewarm at best, but not actually ice cold. I decided I might have to rethink my opinions about showering with someone when the conditions were right.
He wrapped an oversized and fluffy robe around me, and donned a matching one. When he started pulling out shaving equipment by the sink, however, I tossed my soaked shirt over the half wall to dry and stepped behind him in time to still his hands.
“Wait,” I instructed. He gave me a curious look. I ran my fingers over the slight stubble that had grown overnight. “Leave it,” I murmured with a shy blush.
He was already incredibly handsome, but I loved a guy with morning stubble and had to admit to picturing how he would look with it for a while now. It didn’t matter to me if it was gone by Monday, but since the opportunity had presented itself, I thought I might as well take advantage.
He gave me an interested look, but put his shaving stuff away.
“Breakfast?” He turned to wrap his arm around my back and kiss me on the neck.
“Omelet.” I instructed.
We were sitting at the table, both still in our robes with our hair damp from the shower, when Richard breezed through the door.
There was a moment of stunned silence as he stared at us, and we stared back at him.
“Um,” I finally said, “good morning.”
“Good morning,” he said a bit weakly.
“Do you want some breakfast?” Darcy asked after another pause.
Richard held up his hands, closing his eyes tightly and shaking his head. “Wait,” he said. “What is going on? No one is going to explain this? No lame excuses about how this isn’t what it looks like?”
“Would that work?” I wondered.
“No,” he replied firmly.
“Then what’s the point?” I shrugged, turning back to my plate. The omelet I had been craving all morning was actually really good, and it was getting cold.
Richard came around to sit with us, and Darcy got up to whip his cousin an omelet of his own. There was no conversation during this, and I didn’t try to force any; I figured he needed a moment to take it in.
When Darcy put the plate in front of him and sat back down, however, Richard’s tongue had loosened; oddly, his first question was, “Charlotte doesn’t know, does she?”
“No one knows,” I clarified. His slow, sly grin was disconcerting.
“I’ll keep this to myself,” he offered, “as long as I get to tell Charlotte that I know who you’re secretly hooking up with.”
I glanced at Darcy, but he didn’t seem to care either way. Charlotte was already persistent in her demands to know my “lover’s” secret identity, and I had a feeling Richard prodding her with the knowledge that he had found out would just make her even more determined. The alternative, though, that he would just come right out and tell her, was a much worse prospect. I would have to deal with her analyzing every move I made around Darcy.
“Deal,” I shrugged.
Richard was still in his club scene clothes; as it turned out he was on his way back from some girl’s house when he decided to make sure his cousin was doing something worthwhile with his time off. He threw me a wicked grin, but I ignored it with practice. Undaunted, he made several more teasing comments about how we must have been planning on spending the weekend until Darcy finally told him to knock it off. To my surprise, Richard obeyed.
After breakfast, Darcy and I changed into some actual clothes. Both Richard and I hung around a little bit after that, but eventually Charlotte and Jane texted about getting together for lunch. Since the last I heard from Jane she had been planning on spending the whole weekend at Charlie’s, I hope that didn’t mean they’d had a fight. A few back and forth texts later, though, I discovered he’d simply been called into the office and wouldn’t be back until later tonight.
When I announced I was going to meet Jane and Charlotte, Richard reminded me not to let her know that he knew—he wanted to be able to see her reaction. I rolled my eyes at his antics, but agreed. He slipped away to the bathroom, I guess to give Darcy and me privacy to say goodbye.
“Text me later,” he said, opening the door.
“Alright,” I replied easily, although we never really texted without a reason. “Thanks for, uh, having me over,” I said a bit awkwardly. I realized this was also the first time we were saying goodbye; all the other times one of us were slipping out while the other still slept or we simply just left without comment.
“Thanks for coming over,” he replied, and then lean down to kiss me, lingering a bit longer than a simple chaste goodbye kiss.
I went home to drop off my stuff, and to kill time before meeting the girls at the restaurant. I had already showered and changed at Darcy’s, so I didn’t really have anything else to do. When I was almost out the door Charlotte texted; Abby had asked if she wanted to hang out and Charlotte wanted to know if I would mind inviting her along to lunch.
“Ugh,” I said out loud to myself, but I did feel sorry for her. She was in a new town where she didn’t know anyone, and there were not many people I could say I really didn’t get along with,
even if I didn’t particularly like them. A prime example was the boss I was sleeping with, despite having nothing in common and thinking he was generally kind of an ass.
So I texted back and said it was fine, the more the merrier.
Jane met up with us there, too, and halfway through the lunch, Charlotte hedged around the topic of Abby’s lunch with Darcy last Monday.
“He shot me down,” Abby had finally admitted with reluctance, an embarrassed smile on her face. “He wasn’t really an asshole about it, though,” She glanced at me when she said this, and I thought about how I should really stop going around calling Darcy names.
“That’s too bad,” Charlotte tsked without much sympathy. I don’t think she really thought Abby had a chance with the boss, but she was supportive that she might as well go for it because, who knew?
“He was still open to talking to me about the company, though, so I was grateful for that. Otherwise, I would have died just sitting there with him in silence for the rest of the lunch.” Abby laughed, apparently not too torn up about her rejection.
We finished lunch and Charlotte suggested heading downtown; she had spent the morning cleaning out her closet and she needed to pick out some new outfits to fill up her, as she put it, depressingly empty wardrobe. Abby and Jane both agreed, but I begged off. I needed to do some things around the house and, to be honest, an afternoon of shopping at the downtown sounded like it would just wipe me out.
I went home and did a few loads of laundry, cleaned up my room, and straightened up the living room and kitchen. Since that had taken me all of two hours, I then sat on my couch and tried to think of how I should spend the rest of my Saturday. After a few minutes, I was surprised to realize I wanted to go back over to Darcy’s.
He was starting to be fun to be around, even when we weren’t jumping into bed together. He made me laugh, and teasing a smile out of him gave me a proud, accomplished feeling. Could I just show up though? Would he see through any excuse I could think to come up with of why I was back again; would he care?
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