Chapter Two
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They were alone, after hours.
He had been listening to her complain, but not really complain, about Roy. She just seemed sad and frustrated.
And he, of course, nodded and said the requisite supportive things. Even though what he really wanted to say was “leave that idiot and be with me instead.” Because he knew that she needed him to be her friend. She needed him to tell her it would be okay. Even if it was the last thing he needed.
So he did. Until she said it.
“You’re such a good guy, Jim. I feel like…I don’t know, like you’re my brother or something.”
Damn it.
“I’m not,” he said in a low voice, so low she almost couldn’t hear.
“What?”
“I’m not your brother, Pam.” He pushed a frustrated hand through his hair.
She blushed.
“I’m-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I just – I – I thought we were close?”
He sighed. “We are close,” he promised, “we are. But that brother line, you know…”
She didn’t. He knew she didn’t. She was looking at him, a little confused, a little hesitant, and – dare he think – a little hopeful?
Everything Jim was feeling swirled around inside him. Love and frustration, sex, fear, desire, anger, want, need, pain, adoration, touch, craving, Pam...
It all swirled together and crashed over a spot in his lower abdomen. And he lost his mind.
“Fuck it,” he growled.
Before Pam had even had time to register her surprise at hearing Jim swear, he was reaching out and she was in his arms, her body being pulled flush against his.
She made a strange sound at the contact, like half a gasp and half a moan, and sparked in an instant, her arms winding their way around his neck, her fingers tangling and pulling at his hair as his lips crashed into hers, one hand moving up her body to cradle the back of her head.
God, he needed…he just needed…
His tongue nudged at her lips and her mouth opened under his. Their tongues touched and Jim tasted mixed berry yogurt and tangerine jelly beans.
He was instantly hard.
“Jim,” she gasped against his tongue, in a tone he’d heard from lovers before, and felt her smile against his lips.
“God,” he groaned into her mouth.
His hand traveled down to her ass and he pulled her toward him, pulled her into his erection, showing her, in no uncertain terms, just what she did to him.
She groaned her approval at the feel of him and pushed her body, warm and ripe, against him and arched back, her hair falling down her back, exposing her neck for him to devour.
His other hand moved down beneath her rear and lifted her up, the seams of her sensible gray skirt ripping loudly as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist.
Jim sat back on his desk, Pam straddling his lap, her skirt bunching up around her hips and his turgid cock straining against the fabric of his pants, pressing into her through her stockings and sensible cotton panties.
He pushed against her and she pushed back, rubbing herself against him, and they kissed, desperate and hard, tasting words like “yes” and “please” and “God,” on each others breath, and God, he wanted…God, he needed…
**********************
“Hey Jim!”
He froze, one hand grasping his penis, the other squeezing his balls, his mouth open, his chest tight, his back arched, his eyes wild.
“What the fuck are you doing?” his dick screamed at him. “Are you insane?”
“What?” he roared. He was going to kill Mark. He was actually going to kill him dead, cut up his body into tiny pieces, bake them into brownies and take them to a meth clinic.
“Someone here to see you!”
“Shit.” He muttered to himself. “Fuck.” He took a deep breath, hoping to erase the sound of “I’ve been jerking off like a madman up here” from his voice and yelled that he’d be right down.
He hauled his boxers and work pants back up from where they’d pooled around his ankles.
As he rebuckled his belt, Jim took a few deep breaths. His mother was usually good about calling first, but from time to time she was in the habit of dropping by unannounced to bring “the boys” a casserole. He loved his mother, but she was not someone he wanted in his house right now.
At least thinking of his mother made his erection go down.
“Shit,” he muttered again, sighing as he smoothed his clothes and ran a hand through his hair. He squirted on some Purell, just in case, and clattered down the stairs and into the living room.
She was standing in the entryway, looking awkward. Her right foot moved on top of her left one, her fingers scratched distractedly at her forearms. She chewed at her lower lip.
Jim’s eyes opened wide at the sight of her.
“Hi,” she whispered.
He blinked, making sure she wasn’t an apparition. “Um, Pam,” he stammered. “Hey.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
So the beginning of this is probably not entirely in character for Season 2 Pam (or Jim) but hey, let the guy have his dreams (even if they're naughty), will ya?
Chapter End Notes:
Thoughts?
