Come find me.
Nervously, I sent it. It wasn’t long before I had a reply.
Where are you?
I rolled my eyes. Really, Darcy? I bit my lip, debating clues before I finally shook my head and sent him a response.
You’re a smart man, figure it out.
My heart beating in my chest, I made sure the curtains were closed tightly. Although I would have loved to lock the door, doing so would require me to unlock and admit Darcy, which would ruin the presentation I worked so hard on.
So it was with more courage than I felt that I slipped out of my dress and shoes, hanging the expensive clothing on a convenient coat rack near the door, then sat on the edge of the desk wearing only the white lacy lingerie I convinced Darcy I had returned, unworn, to the store.
It actually wasn’t that long before the door creeped open and a head popped in. All the scenarios of being caught by the security guard, or Richard, or some other random guest flared and died as Darcy himself entered the room.
When he stepped fully in, his jaw actually dropped open and he hurriedly closed the door behind him, his eyes never leaving me. I smiled a little at his reaction, my head tilted down as I looked up at him through my eyelashes.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Darcy.” I smiled as seductively as I could manage. “Lock the door,” I instructed. He did so, again without turning around.
“Elizabeth,” he breathed, slowly walking towards me. I loved the ways his eyes roamed over me. I had never felt more desirable, or beautiful than I did right then.
“Do you remember when you came by that night, and you said you wanted to look at my desk and always remember me crying out your name?” I asked him. He groaned softly, reaching up to lightly run a few fingers down my arm, his eyes, already black with desire, still taking me in.
“Yes,” he eventually replied, his voice sounding strangled. I smiled approvingly.
“Good, because I want the same thing,” I told him, reaching out to grab his tie in order to pull him closer, while my other hand went behind his neck to play lightly with his hair; His eyes were currently on my chest, so I tilted my head so we locked eyes.
“I want you to be working here and suddenly become very distracted.” I pulled him even closer, taking his earlobe in my mouth and sucking gently as my knees squeezed his waist; he put his clenched fists on either side of me on the desk as I continued, “as you remember all the dirty, dirty things we did on this desk.”
“Christ, Lizzy,” he groaned again, his head in my shoulder.
“Yes,” I encouraged him breathlessly, slipping his jacket off and grabbing his tie again. “That’s exactly what I need to hear, Mr. Darcy.”
It might have been the Mr. Darcy part, I have no idea, but he kind of lost it a bit after that. He kissed me with an urgency I had yet to feel from him, his hands suddenly everywhere.
“Wait.” I pushed him back and he groaned again.
“Lizzy,” he said with a bit of pleading in his voice. I grinned, but didn’t reference the word “begging;” this was, after all, his Christmas gift and I wanted him to enjoy himself.
“Take your pants off,” I instructed, lifting my legs and spinning on the desk so that I faced his chair and not the door. “Come here and sit down.”
He grumbled, but did as I asked, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his belt with a quick tug. His pants fell and he stepped out of them to sit in his large office chair in only his shirt, tie, boxers, and socks. I scooted closer so that my legs hung over the side and took a moment to appreciate the view, but as he started to reach towards me, I quickly took action.
I slipped off the desk, carefully placing my knees on either side of his legs so I was straddling him on the chair. His hands were immediately roaming. I loosened his tie and tossed it aside in the general direction of his pants.
“Well, Mr. Darcy,” I gave him a shy smile as I began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m all yours. What would you like to do first?”
He had no trouble coming up with several things for us to do that night.
∞∞∞
Miraculously, no one had come looking for us, so we had hours of entertainment to ourselves. At the end of the night we were laying face up on his desk; he was completely naked and I only wore the white stockings he insisted I keep on. I leaned on my elbow, running a hand absently through his chest hair.
“This is a very sturdy desk,” I commented.
“Yes,” he agreed; his eyes were on the ceiling and he seemed to still be out of it from our activities.
“I think you should write the manufacturer and let them know what fine craftsmanship this is,” I continued.
“I might just do that,” he nodded agreeably. I smirked.
“So,” I lay back down so I was murmuring into his ear, “Did I achieve my goal? Is this room forever tainted with dirty memories?”
“Oh yes,” he answered immediately. “No question. I’m also not sure I will be able to hear you call me Mr. Darcy from now on, either.”
“That is unfortunate,” I commented. “It will make things at the office very awkward.”
“Most likely,” he agreed.
“Worth it?” I wondered. He turned to me, grinning.
“Worth it,” he confirmed.
“Good Christmas present?” I prodded. He was the one, this time, to lean up on an elbow and look me over.
“The best present I ever had,” he said sincerely. I blushed, but gave him a pleased smile.
He laid back down; I rested my head once more on his chest and his hand began lazily running up and down my arm. His touch was so light it sent goosebumps up my skin.
“One more thing,” I began after a moment.
“Hmm?” he murmured leisurely.
“If I’m not allowed to give George Wickham the time of day,” his hand stilled, his interest piqued at the mention of the man who still flirted with me during our occasional conversations. “Caroline Bingley needs to learn to keep her hands to herself around you.”
He began caressing my arm once more and I heard the amusement in his voice as he said, “Deal.”
Three days later, Darcy stopped by my apartment.
“Hey,” I said, surprised to see him.
“I never got a chance to give you this,” he said without preamble, shoving a wrapped package at me. “I realized if I didn’t come by now, I would probably not get another chance until the New Year.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised again. “You didn’t have to…”
“Don’t,” he rolled his eyes. “And before you overanalyze anything, I picked this out for you before your present to me.” The dark look in his eyes conjured up images of all the things we did that night, and I blushed. He seemed to find this amusing, because he smiled knowingly at me.
“Thanks. Should I open it now?” I asked, trying to ignore the heat that had suddenly flared between us. He kind of shrugged, but I had the feeling he wanted to see my reaction, so I led him to the couch and sat down, waiting for him to do the same before tearing away the wrapping paper. Inside was a brand new, state-of-the-art laptop. It was, knowing Darcy, probably the best on the market.
“Jane mentioned you never splurge on anything for yourself,” he said as I stared down at the gift. “And it’s not, er, romantic, or anything. It’s not as good as, well, what you got me.”
I had never seen him so tongue-tied. This was a man who simply exuded self-control and confidence in almost every aspect of his life. I had often accused him of social awkwardness, but even then he never stuttered, or tripped over his words.
Said the wrong thing? Yes.
Said something completely rude? Yes.
He was never unsure of the message he wanted to convey though. Also, he thought this wasn’t as good as my gift to him?
“Gigi always says I give practical gifts, which is true, but,” he shrugged again. “I know you need a new one, your old laptop is such a piece of crap,” he finally finished with a derisive frown.<
br />
I couldn’t help but laugh as Darcy tried to find his footing by insulting my things. It was strangely comforting. He glanced up at my face for the first time since I opened the gift. “You hate it,” his frown deepened.
“I love it.” I countered, leaning over to impulsively kiss him. We rarely kissed so casually, and he looked a little surprised at first, but then pleased. “Thank you, Darcy. This is incredible. And you’re right; I do need a new laptop. And I would never buy myself such a nice one.”
“Well, good,” he said. “I uh, did get it engraved.” He tapped the box with one finger.
I pulled the lid off and tilted the silver case in the light to read the inscription. At the bottom read Property of Elizabeth Bennet and closer to the top there was a quote by Albert Einstein: Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world. It was probably my favorite quote, and I had no idea how he knew that. I couldn’t help the smile that took over my face and I looked back up at him to see he was pleased by my reaction. I kissed him again.
“I love it,” I repeated. “Thank you.”
He left after about another hour of casual conversation on holiday plans and office gossip. It wasn’t until later that I realized that outside of the dinners during our pregnancy scare, this was his first sex-free visit to my apartment.
I wondered what it meant for our relationship that we were excluding the other from certain people, exchanging gifts, and being alone together for long periods of time without falling into bed. Or whatever furniture was close. Was my SSP actually becoming my BF? I was no closer to an answer then, but I only had to wait a few weeks before things became clearer. Or honestly more confusing, it was kind of hard to tell with him.
CHAPTER TEN
New Year’s Eve
We had all been scattered for Christmas. Darcy and Gigi spent the holiday with Richard at his parents’ house; Charlie and Caroline stayed in town, but their older sister and her husband flew in to have a family dinner; Jane and I went back home to spend it with our own loud, outrageous family; and Charlotte, who was apparently not close to her parents, flew out to see her younger sister who was on break from her first year at college.
We all managed to return in time to spend New Year’s Eve at the same dive bar Darcy and I had never managed to make it to the first night we had fallen into bed. The gang was all back together again, but unfortunately that also included both Caroline Bingley and George Wickham. Caroline had followed her brother when she heard Darcy would be here, but I have no idea which one of these traitors invited George Wickham.
The bar was so full that only us girls were sitting. The men, with gentlemen-like conduct, had each offered their seat up to a lady when one joined the group. Everyone was also paired off, sort of. Richard stood between my and Charlotte’s chair, George was on my other side between me and Jane. Charlie, of course, hovered over Jane with his back to his sister, who had Darcy next to her.
George hadn’t asked me out again after I broke our date at the last minute, but he was still flirty with me. It was turning into a long night with everything that was going on. Charlotte was alternately trying to pry the name of my SSP out of me and totally ignoring me to flirt with Richard. George was hinting that he hoped he would be lucky enough to be the one I kissed at midnight.
As for me, I had to pretend I didn’t see how Caroline was practically trying to pull Darcy into her lap, or if I did that it didn’t bother me in the slightest. Darcy glanced at me apologetically once in a while and did seem to be doing his best to extract himself from her grasp, but I couldn’t help the discomfort in the pit of my stomach at seeing her flirt outrageously with him, taking every opportunity to touch him.
The ball finally dropped and everyone cheered, tossing back drinks and wishing everyone around them a happy new year. Then, the kissing started. I was happy to see Richard plant one on Charlotte, and not at all surprised to see Charlie do the same to my sister.
What did surprise me, however, was when a moment later Darcy appeared beside me, tilted my chin up and, in front of everyone, kissed me soundly on the lips.
He pulled back with a victorious look and I gazed around the table to almost identical faces of shock, even from people like Jane and Richard, who knew something was going on between us. George and Caroline looked perhaps more pissed than shocked, but the shock was also there.
“No. Way.” Charlotte was the first to recover. “William Darcy is your SSP?”
“Uh,” I looked up at him but he just put his hand on the back of my neck possessively and took a drink from his glass of Scotch. “Yep.”
“Okay, well, I don’t feel so bad,” Charlotte said, sitting back now that the shock was starting to wear off. “You were right, I would have never guessed.”
“I knew,” Jane grinned. “Before you even told me.”
“You did not,” I accused her, amused.
“I did.” She nodded, sure of herself. “You kept saying how no one would ever guess, and you kept being nicer and nicer to him.”
“I am not nice to him,” I replied quickly before wincing. What the hell kind of thing was that to say?
“Sweetheart, you just had your tongue in his mouth,” Richard pointed out.
“I did not have my tongue in anyone’s mouth,” I protested indignantly. Darcy took this opportunity to tilt my head back again and French me. The table erupted in hoots and wolf whistles. It was around this time that Caroline left, mumbling about meeting up with the girls. I noticed George had already slunk away.
“I hate you,” I told him when he pulled back. My voice was breathy, and instead of glaring at him as my brain instructed, my mouth rose in a smile.
“I know,” he smiled back. “That’s for never being nice to me.”
“Okay, there has to be a story,” Charlotte turned our attentions back to the table. “How the hell did this happen?”
“Oh, I know.” Richard jumped in eagerly. “You were in the middle of an argument, your faces inches apart, and then suddenly all that stormy anger turned into hot sex?”
“What is this, a Harlequin romance novel? No,” I shook my head.
“Okay, so no bodice ripping. Were you two working late together one night?” Richard continued with a smirk. “Lizzy comes into the boss’s office but she hasn’t finished her report on time,” he covered his mouth in a feigned scandalized look. “Uh oh, someone needs to be punished.”
“Okay, no more guesses from you,” Charlotte cut him off. “You get smutty when you drink too much, do you know that?”
“Just the basics, please.” Jane chimed in. “Who initiated things?”
“He did,” I replied, exactly in unison with him saying, “She did.” I looked up at him in shock.
“Me?” I asked incredulously. “You kissed me, remember?”
“Yeah,” he scoffed, holding up a finger, “after you took off my jacket,” he held up one more, “unbuttoned my shirt,” another finger joined it, “and started running your hands through my hair, telling me how soft it was.”
I felt my face turn red as the table erupted in laughter, hoots, and playful comments.
“That is not what happened.” I defended myself over the noise.
“It’s not?” he challenged, sure of himself. I frowned, aware that everyone was waiting for my answer.
“It’s taken out of context,” I finally amended. Sounds of amused exclamations flared up once more. “I was helping him dress for a party,” I called over the noise. Of course, that did nothing to help my case and I finally stopped talking, a pout on my face and my arms crossed defensively.
He crouched down and began trying to tease me back into good humor. I stubbornly held onto my sulk for a few minutes, but finally gave in and laughed at something he whispered in my ear. He kissed me again when I sighed and uncrossed my arms.
“Speaking of not being nice to you, if you keep drinking Scotch all night, that will be the last kiss you get from me,”
I informed him now that the focus had shifted away from us.
“I like Scotch,” he frowned.
“Do you like kissing me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. He eyed his drink, clearly thinking it over. “I do not like how long this is taking you.”
“Of course I do,” he rolled his eyes, as if the answer had been too obvious to state. “Scotch is an acquired taste; I was just thinking you might only need time to get used to it.”
“It tastes like wood,” I grimaced.
Jane was suddenly standing, letting Charlie sit down in her seat before sliding into his lap. My usually shy sister must have had some drinks under her belt for this level of PDA. Charlotte whispered something to Richard, and soon they were mirroring the other couple. Char looked at me with an eyebrow raised, clearly challenging me. I narrowed my eyes at her, taking the unspoken dare.
I stood, gesturing to the open seat. “Sit.”
“Lizzy, I’m fine.” he shook his head.
“Darcy,” I motioned to the other people at our table. “Sit.”
“Ah,” he said with a bit of a smile, sliding down into the chair I was just occupying and wasting no time before guiding my hips down onto his lap. I scooted back a bit, putting an arm around the back of his neck.
“Comfy?” I asked.
“Very,” Under the table where no one could really see what he was doing, he slid a hand down my thigh, stopping at my exposed knee and running his thumb over it in a casual caress. “Try this. The ice has melted a bit, and it blends with the drink. Take a sip.” He took his hand from my knee momentarily and swirled his glass a bit before offering me his drink. I tried it, but I scrunched my nose, handing it back. He frowned, so I rolled my eyes and told him he could keep his precious drink and I would just deal with it.
“See? I am nice to you.”
Casual Page 9