Office Hours

by Katrina Jackson

  “Alright, I’m going to go before I do something rash,” he announced, standing up straight and smoothing a hand down his tied and then adjusting his belt buckle. Deja followed the path of his hand and licked her lips. “Yep, I need to get out of here.”

  She nodded absentmindedly, still watching his belt buckle.

  He walked around her desk and leaned over her to dip his head. He brushed his mouth along hers in a chaste kiss.

  She closed her eyes briefly and lifted her chin toward him as he pulled away, a small whimper falling from her lips. When she opened her eyes, he was smiling down at her. The man never stopped smiling and she loved it.

  She cleared her throat. “You said you’d keep your hands to yourself,” she whispered.

  He moved his head to brush his lips along her cheek to her ear. “I didn’t say anything about my mouth,” he whispered to her.

  Deja’s blood was pounding in her veins as she watched Alejandro snatch his cup from her desk and walked to the door. He turned to her, one hand on the doorknob, and winked before pulling the door open. He lifted his cup to his mouth to hide his smile, once again leaving her speechless and panting.

  She slumped back in her chair with a foolish smile on her face.

  7.

  Friday Night

  Deja had been on pins and needles all day. She’d spent the faculty meeting that had actually pulled her onto campus on her day off, pretending as if she was paying attention to her colleagues fighting about next semester’s enrollments, but really poring over Alejandro’s brief email telling her that he’d pick her up at seven. She’d carefully sent him her address, looking seriously at her laptop screen so her colleagues might think she was taking notes on the meeting. And then she’d spent a solid twenty minutes trying to remember if her favorite little black dress was still at the back of her closet and if she could still fit into it.

  When the meeting was over, instead of hanging around and listening to her colleagues continued complaints or heading back to her office to grade, she practically ran home to her small apartment. And then, instead of spending a few hours walking in small circles around her home office, talking to herself – but not typing – she pulled every hanger out of her closet so she could try on every dress she owned. By the time she was done, she’d discovered that she could just fit into her favorite little black dress and had a trash bag full of clothes she couldn’t or no longer wanted to wear. She took the rare opportunity to rearrange her entire wardrobe and stepped back with a brief satisfied smile. It wasn’t a finished and submitted article, but a clean closet soothed Deja’s jumping nerves.

  She wasted an inordinate amount of time, shaving and moisturizing herself from head to toe. How long it had been since she’d been on a date? Too long, was the closest she got to an answer.

  How long since a man had taken her out for dinner and a movie? How long since someone she was attracted to told her she was beautiful while running his fingers along the circumference of her wrists with the lightest touch? Opened doors for her? Put his hand heavily at the small of her back after a glass of wine? Leaned in close so his cologne enveloped her? Looked at her with soft, enamored eyes like he couldn’t think about anything else but kissing her?

  Too. Damn. Long.

  She mentally replayed and expedited version of her love life in the past few years only and was bored. Her mood sagged as she shimmied into her dress, resisted the urge to change into something that covered her cleavage or didn’t hug it so...tight. She did her makeup and refreshed her curls. When she stood back to look at herself in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door, she thought she looked like a version of herself she hadn’t seen in Too Damn Long.

  When Alejandro pulled up to her apartment, Deja wasn’t watching him through the curtains in her living room window, but she wasn’t not not watching from the window. But since she was looking, she watched him stand from his car and sucked in a harsh breath.

  He was in a casual suit...she thought. She didn’t actually know much about menswear except that Alejandro had always looked immaculate. This suit was dark blue and once again tailored within an inch of its life. The white shirt was so white it was either brand new or he was using some kind of bleach normal people couldn’t buy. He also wasn’t wearing a tie, which made him seem less like a professor and she appreciated that subtle change. And he capped it off with a pair of brown dress shoes that Deja normally wouldn’t have bothered noticing except these seemed to accentuate that this man had big feet. Her eyes went to his groin briefly before she looked away.

  Each step he took up to the front door of her apartment building was slow and measured, which meant she had plenty of time to appreciate the way his muscled rippled under his clothing. But when he was at the front door, bent over to look at the intercom system to look for her name, she saw that he had a nervous smile on his face and that made her smile.

  The buzzer rang and even though she watched him press the button, she jumped.

  She ran to the intercom. “Hello?” she squeaked.

  “Deja? It’s Alejandro.”

  His voice sounded amazing, even through the crackling intercom speaker that was at least thirty years old.

  “I-I’m coming,” she said.

  “Take your time,” he said, and her stomach burst into a nest of butterflies.

  She took a deep breath as she stepped carefully into a pair of eggplant purple suede pumps that she hadn’t worn in so long Too Damn Long didn’t feel long enough. She grabbed her small wallet on a chain and threw it over her arm and then grabbed her favorite pea coat before she opened her door.

  She locked her apartment door and then turned to see Alejandro looking through the long pane of glass at her. She froze, caught off guard by the hunger in his eyes as he looked her up and down. She felt self-conscious for a second before his eyes lifted and he looked her in the face.

  "Come on, Deja,” he said with a smile.

  She walked slowly to the front door and pushed it open a bit.

  Alejandro pulled the door open fully for her and he didn’t even try to hide his interest as she walked out into the cool even air.

  “You look amazing,” he said, wistfully.

  “It’s just an old dress,” she said, clutching her coat to her stomach.

  “I can see why you kept it,” he mumbled.

  Deja's entire body was warming again. Apparently, Alejandro just had that effect on her. “You look great too,” she whispered, too nervous to look him directly in the eyes.

  He stepped forward and his right hand settled on the small of her back. Deja sucked in a surprised breath. Alejandro leaned forward and his mouth brushed her cheek and then moved to her ear. “Good. I dressed up for you.”

  Deja didn’t know that a man telling her that could be erotic, but it absolutely was.

  “Come on,” he said, his hand flexing at her back, the weight of it sure as he led her to his car.

  ***

  The thing about being at a small university in a small midwestern town like Centreville was that the closest good food, or museums or good stores, or bars or good music venues could be anywhere from thirty minutes to six hours drive away and that was the case for Deja’s university.

  In hindsight, she would have preferred a job in a slightly bigger city with more than cheap pizza joints within walking distance, but she’d only had one job offer, so she hadn’t even had the chance to be picky. But the fact that Centreville was so small, and students were everywhere had only deepened her isolation and even though she could drive to more interesting places, she almost never did; she always had too much work. Those were at least the excuses she used to keep herself from actually getting a life, so when Alejandro hopped on the freeway to head out of town, she grinned so hard, her cheeks hurt.

  They didn’t talk much on the way to Port Wayne, the closest medium-sized city. Alejandro played some jazz and Deja listened, sinking into the quiet and his soft leather seats. It should have be
en weird not to talk on a date, but she’d spent so much time not talking to Alejandro that it felt comfortable. The twenty-minute drive let her sink into the realization that she, Deja Evans, was on an actual date with Alejandro Mendoza.

  By the time he pulled into a parking lot just behind a stretch of bars and restaurants Deja always told herself she’d come to but didn’t, she was still nervous but not so much that she was worried the butterflies in her stomach might riot if he touched her again. He walked around his car to open her door and offered his hand to her.

  She bit her bottom lip as she took it. His palm was warm, and he helped her to stand with a comfortable strength. He closed the door with his free hand and then stood in front of her, so close she had to tip her head back to make eye contact.

  “Do you think I need my coat?” she breathed.

  He smiled. “I volunteer to keep you warm,” he said, and she believed him, she was already hot at his touch. “There’s a little bar that I like here. I thought we could get a drink. And the best Mexican restaurant in like fifty miles is next door. How does that sound?”

  It sounded great to Deja, but as he spoke, Alejandro had stepped forward, backing her against his car with her body. She groaned instead of answering.

  He laughed and moved his hand under her chin, gently tilting her head farther back and her mouth closer to his.

  “We can go somewhere else if you-”

  “That’s fine,” Deja breathed. “Kiss me?” Her voice was a throaty, husky wine. She'd never heard herself sound like that before or asked a man to kiss her.

  He licked his lips, “Gladly.”

  Deja felt like she was in a whirlwind. A week ago, kissing Alejandro felt like an impossibility. Four days ago, letting him get her off in her office hadn’t even been a thought in her head. And three hours ago, imagining that this kiss could be better than their first wasn’t even in the realm of possibility, but it was.

  His head dipped forward slowly. He brushed his mouth against hers gently, side to side and up and down, just letting their lips touch. And then he moved forward again, pressing his lips against hers and prying them open. He didn’t hesitate to slip his tongue into her mouth, licking inside, tasting the moan he’d pulled from her. Her free arm flew to his waist and she pulled him forward. He smiled against her mouth, tipping her chin up a fraction of an inch more with his hand to kiss her deeper, but still soft.

  She wanted this kiss to last forever, all night, but all too soon he pulled back. He swiped at his mouth with his thumb, smearing the trace of her lipstick from his mouth before wiping it away. There was something about her makeup on him that made Deja’s blood pressure rise.

  “Yeah,” Alejandro breathed as if she knew every dirty thought in her head in that moment or maybe every dirty thought she’d ever had about him. “Come on.” He pulled her gently forward by their still clasped hands and laced his fingers through hers in a tight grip.

  He walked her slowly across the cobblestoned pathway toward the street, never rushing her and always with care. The entire night was like that. In the bar, he sat her at a table before grabbing their drinks. They sipped slowly and talked – steering as clear of work as possible – and he kept his hand at her back, rubbing slow circles over her spine. When their knees brushed, Deja flinched, but Alejandro simply scooted forward so their legs entwined, his knees knocking hers every so often.

  When they finished their drink, he helped her carefully from the stool and they walked next door. They didn’t' have to wait for a table even though the place was packed.

  “I know the owner,” he said, just as the hostess took them to a quiet booth in the back of the restaurant. Instead of sitting across from her, Alejandro slid onto the bench beside her, their knees brushing again. They read the menu together as he whispered his favorite dishes to her as if they were a love poem, his right hand resting on her thigh. She let him order for her, something she never normally did, simply because she liked the way his voice sounded in Spanish and she liked the way he made her feel cared for.

  Alejandro was the most eligible bachelor on campus not just because he was attractive and perfectly groomed but because he seemed unattainable; completely out of everyone’s league. Deja had made a fantasy of him, imagining that he would be as perfectly calm and cool as he did on campus, but he wasn’t quite that at all. He was a lot like the restaurant actually; beautiful aesthetics but warm and unpretentious and she found herself sinking into him. They talked and ate, and their legs rested together – her left kneecap to his right – and she forgot to be nervous as she came to know Alejandro as a person, not just a figment of her fantasies.

  He paid for dinner, frowning at her suggestion that they go Dutch. He grabbed her hand again as they walked back to his car. The night was cooler now and she leaned into his side for warmth. The skirt of her dress fluttered in the gentle wind and she smoothed it with her free hand. Alejandro pretended not to notice the flash of her thighs, but she saw him lick his lips and she leaned into him just a bit more.

  It might have been too damn long since Deja’s last date, but Alejandro obliterated the fuzzy memory of the last man she’d gone out with. Whatever that date had been like, this was better, and it was over too soon. Alejandro opened the passenger door for her and as soon as her butt hit the seat, her mood started to plummet. She didn’t want it to end.

  Instead of taking the freeway back to Centreville, Alejandro took the slightly slower path home on the state road. It was a straight shot on a dark road with no lights, deer hazards, and whiteout warnings in the winter and something about the darkness enveloping them soothed Deja sadness at the end of their date. Alejandro held her hand over the center console as he drove, a wistful smile on his face, and more light jazz on the radio.

  She turned in her seat to face him and moved their connected hands to her lap. The skirt of her dress slid up her thighs and he took advantage at once, sliding the soft pad of his fingers along the inside of her knee. Deja shivered as goosebumps erupted onto her skin.

  At a red light, Alejandro turned to her. The headlights from an oncoming car illuminated a sliver streak just at his temples and the beautiful angles of his face briefly.

  “We’re going to your place, right?” Deja suddenly blurted out. When she processed what she’d said, her eyes widened, and she licked her lips nervously.

  Alejandro’s hand covered her right knee as he barked out a laugh that Deja felt in the pit of her stomach. “I was trying to figure out how to invite you over,” he chuckled. “So yes, Deja, we’re definitely going to my place. Or we can go to your place if that’d make you feel more comfortable.”

  As he spoke his hand flexed and gripped her leg. His thumb went back to caressing her skin, his touch calming and exciting at the same time. A moan escaped her lips before she could stop it.

  He turned innocently at her.

  “Definitely not my place,” she said in a strained voice. “My neighbors are all old and very nosey. As is, they’ll be asking me about the ‘nice young man’ who picked me up.” Her voice was light, but she actually hated how uncomfortably on display she sometimes felt living so close to campus. But when it came time to look for another place to stay, she struggled to find a place she liked and could afford and that wouldn’t add at least an hour of commute time to her day. Her apartment was just one more thing she hated about her life and felt unable to change.

  But she didn’t want to burden Alejandro with those feelings, especially not on their first date, so she buried those feelings and smiled wider at him.

  “Okay, my place it is,” he said, pulling her from her sad thoughts with an easy shrug. “My neighbors are always high. They’ll forget you were there almost immediately.”

  She laughed and relaxed into her seat with a soft smile on her face. As Alejandro’s car accelerated, Deja watched his profile with slightly drooping eyelids as her hands moved over his forearm and his hands caressed her legs.

  She shivered under his touch. “I
like that. I like you.”

  The car slowed. Alejandro’s face reflected the glare of the bright red light at the intersection. As soon as the car stopped, he turned toward her. His smile was gone, but the look on his face was even better, sexy, seductive, promising. He leaned over the console toward her.

  She wanted him to kiss her before the light changed, but she also wanted him to take his time and he did. His free hand wrapped around the column of her neck and she let him pull her mouth to his. Before their lips touched, he took in a deep breath through his mouth, tasting the humid air between their lips. Alejandro shoved his tongue into her mouth as soon as their lips crashed together and they both moaned.

  Deja whimpered, tasting the promise of that kiss, even though it was over all too soon.

  When he pulled back from Deja’s mouth, he was smiling again. “I more than like you,” he said, and then he turned forward to ease his foot off the break as the light turned green.

  ***

  If Alejandro had known that Deja was going to come over to his apartment, he would have hired a cleaning service or spent the afternoon straightening his apartment at least. He wished he could have left her on his front doorstep while he did so, but that only happened in movies, otherwise it was rude as hell. Thankfully, he wasn’t a slob. He said a silent prayer of thanks that his mother sent him off to college with sage advice. “What woman wants to date a man who can’t put his dirty boxers in the laundry basket, mijo?”

  No woman. That was the answer she’d drilled into his head and he’d learned by watching his college roommates’ girlfriends scrunch their noses at their messy apartment, so he always kept his apartment presentable. Sometimes in the middle of a terrible semester, it got a bit chaotic, but this semester wasn’t terrible, just regularly busy.

  He held his breath as he opened his front door. He ushered Deja inside, exhaling nervously as he entered his apartment behind her, waiting for her to turn to him with a scrunched nose or judging eyes. She didn’t.