“What are you doing, Jim?” I’d squealed as he pulled me by the hand out of our SUV in the parking lot of Dunder Mifflin/ Saber.
Nighttime had settled over Scranton on that Wednesday, and we’d left that same parking lot only hours before, heading to the daycare to pick up our baby, and then heading home. I’d made lasagna, he’d put on the Phillies game, we’d fed, played with, and bathed Cece before putting her to bed.
But then Kelly knocked on the door at 10PM as I was half asleep on the couch, and Jim hauled me up against him and told me he needed to show me something. He’d been quiet all day, but between raising a 14 month old, trying to exceed his prior month's sales and keeping Dwight on his toes was a constant battle that sometimes left him quieter than normal.
We’d left Cece with Kelly – who was a remarkably better baby-sitter than Erin – Jim had deposited me in the car, and we’d jetted off to who knows where. In my post-work day exhaustion and just plain confusion, I didn’t bother asking. Years of shenanigans with my husband had taught me that when Jim had a plan, Jim had a p-l-a-n and it was better to just see where his mischief took us.
But then we were standing in the parking lot, a single light overhead illuminating us on the blacktop. Jim held my left hand, his fingers running over my engagement and wedding rings, walking me closer to the building before he stopped and turned to me, his eyes blackened in intensity.
“Do you know what today is?” He asked, his voice deep and thick.
I looked down at my thin, striped pajama bottoms and racked my brain. May 11th… May 11th… I had no idea, which both terrified and confused me. While May was a relatively busy month for us, dates were something I’d routinely kept track of. Our first date was May 17th. The first time we slept together was May 18th. We found out about Cece on May 14th. What the hell was May 11th?
I shook my head in bewilderment, my eyes trained on his, which were still looking deeply into my face. His hands cupped my jaw, his thumbs rubbing slow, concentric circles against my cheeks.
“Five years ago, right here, I told you I was in love with you…”
My heart caught in my throat, my eyes teared, my hands shook as they rested on his chest. Silence enveloped us, the emotion of the moment swirling in anxious waves and curls between and around our connected bodies.
“Oh, Jim…” I whispered. “Sweetie, I love you so much…”
His eyes moistened as his lower lip trembled. His hands shifted from my face to my waist, pulling me as close to him as I could be. It’d been so long since I’d seen him like this.
“Jesus, Pam, that’s all I wanted to hear that night… That’s all I wanted to hear…” He murmured into my hair, his hands pulling me impossibly closer.
I pulled back infinitesimally, just to get a better look at his face, when he reared back and took my hand again, leading me towards the door to the building. He opened the door using the keys I still had from my days as receptionist, and led us to the elevator. I stood next to him, feeling nervous for the first time in his presence in a very long time. We stepped into the elevator car, our hands locked together, fingers entwined tightly. We rode to the third floor, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Jim?” I questioned as we walked swiftly to the Dunder Mifflin door. I looked up at my husband’s tall frame, his posture determined.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he unlocked that door as well and pushed it open, walking us again towards the first grouping of tables at the front of the office. Jim turned me into him, pressing my bottom against his desk.
“Pick up the phone,” He quietly asked. I quickly glanced up at him, our eyes meeting briefly. “Please?”
I acquiesced, picking up the receiver with my left hand awkwardly, pulling it to my shoulder.
I watched as Jim swallowed gruffly, his adam’s apple bobbing. He moved closer to me, pulling the phone from my hand and placing it softly on the flat surface behind me. His hands rested on the edge of the desk, standing so close, but not yet touching me.
“This is where I kissed you.” He whispered.
He swallowed again. And again.
“This is where you told me you were going to marry him.”
Our eyes met once more. Tight at the corners, I watched his crinkling with emotion. My heart was stuck somewhere near my larynx as my stomach clenched in apprehension.
“But I didn’t,” I whimpered. “I married you. I married you and we had a baby girl, who is so beautiful. You’re my husband and my best friend. I love you, Jim Halpert.”
I could read his insecurities plain as day on his face. We’d had this discussion before – long ago before a house and New York art classes and marriage and Cece. We’d spent many, many discussions reminding ourselves how lucky we were that things had worked out the way they had worked out. We spent hours remembering how hard it had been to watch each other with someone else, wanting to only be with one another. We spent our first few weeks of our relationship completely immersed in each other, discovering not only the touch, taste, sight and feel of skin and lips and curves and ridges, but of finally hearing words that had gone unspoken for so long. Questions and answers, low murmurs of loving devotion, sobs and anger in recollection, soft concessions in what was our now.
He leaned his forehead down to touch mine, closing his eyes.
“Thank God…”
I reached up and stroked his face, a day’s worth of growth over his cheeks and jaw scratching my fingertips. I slid my fingers into his hair and gripped the soft strands, tugging gently in silent asking for him to lift his head.
His eyes were glazed over with moisture.
“I have never, never been happier than I am right now,” I whispered, searching his eyes for recognition of the blessed life we were living. Despite the entire building being empty, I felt supremely heavy with the weight of the silence.
He trembled. “I wouldn’t change our life for anything.”
I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his gently, offering him my lower lip, his favorite kiss. His hands came up to encircle my waist, lifting me easily so I was sitting on the edge of the desk. I spread my legs and he stood between my knees, his fingers tightening on my sides, his lips becoming more pliant and relaxed on mine. I sighed into our kiss as I felt him unwind, felt his hands start to move under my tank top against my skin, felt his breath become labored and heavy. I felt his hands start to grow more adventurous, roaming over my stomach, thumbs precariously close to the underwire of my bra. I threaded my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, gently reminding him who we were and what we had worked so hard to become.
He pulled his lips from mine minutely.
“Do you know what I wanted to do to you that night?” He asked, a quirk of an eyebrow giving me all the answer I needed. I decided to play coy.
“What did you want, sweetie?”
His eyes met mine, knowing the game we were playing was about to become dangerous. Less intense. More playful.
“I wanted to lay you out on this desk and make you scream my name so long you’d forget the man who drove you here.”
Game. On.
I arched an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah? What else?”
He grinned at me, my husband coming alive again, the fear and the tension and the memories rolling off him in waves.
“I wanted to peel that blue dress off your shoulders and see what you’d been hiding under those sweaters.”
I nuzzled my nose into his shoulder.
“And?”
“I wanted to suck on your neck, right under your ear…”
“And?”
“I wanted to kiss and lick my way down the center of your chest…”
I moaned reflexively as his thumbs moved under the black satin of my bra, rubbing the underside of my breasts.
“And…?” I managed to work out. I looked up at him, staring down at me. He reached up and pulled down a strap of my tank top, kissing the uncovered skin.
“I wanted to bury my face between your thighs and taste you.”
I gasped as he pulled down the other strap of my tank top, along with both straps of my bra, freeing my breasts to the office air, wetness pooling between my legs.
Point goes to the husband.
“Jesus, yes,” I groaned as his hands moved to cup my breasts, running his palms over my nipples, squeezing gently. “Yes, yes, yessss.”
I grasped his shirt and tugged, attempting to pull the fabric over my husband’s head. He pulled back for a moment to arch one hand behind his head, fisting the material behind his neck and pulling the shirt off. The shirt fell to the floor beside us in a soft heap as I ran my hands over the smattering of chest hair, then twisting my hands to run over his abdomen and through the pale brown hair leading into his jeans.
I looked up at him to gesture with my eyes whether or not he was OK.
He was too busy swirling his thumbs over my areolas to notice.
I arched my back as the sensation of his hands on me changed, to his fingers pinching my nipples. I grabbed his belt forcefully and undid it, then slipped the button from its hole on his jeans.
Only at the feeling of his pants being slid down his hips did Jim look back up from his ministration of my chest. He moaned as he watched my hands slip the jeans down his legs, palming his growing erection through his boxers. Jim looked back up, into my eyes, grasped my shoulders and gently pushed me down onto my elbows. He untied my pajama pants quickly and slid them and my panties off my body. He shifted to sit in his desk chair, grasping my ankle and pulling my leg over his shoulder. I hadn’t a moment to catch my breath when I felt his hair brush my thighs and then…
“Oh, my God,” I gasped as his tongue ran over me, hot and moist and soft. I threw my head back in a long groan.
His lips kissed and his tongue lapped and his breath washed over me in warm waves. It took only moments in combination with the memories of the night for the pressure to start building in my lower abdomen, for the ache to grow deliciously, for my knees to start wavering. I clasped Jim’s hand against my stomach, feeling the quivering start to shift to a full blown shudder, and he pulled away almost at my climax. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips shiny with my lust.
“Jim?” I croaked out, questioningly.
He stared down at my sex, licking his lips, biting his tongue. And with a single thrust, he was home inside of me, deep and hard and wet. The feel of him filling me, the ache of my orgasm on the brink of explosion, the look in his eyes, devastatingly in love. It was overwhelming and awe-inspiring and the antithesis of ephemeral pleasure.
His hands slipped under my shoulders, anchoring our bodies together as he thrust in and out, circling his hips to rub against my pubic bone. That same visceral twinge began to build again as I grasped at his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin.
“Yes, yes, yesss,” I moaned quietly, listening to Jim’s hushed panting in my ear. His hands grew tight on my shoulders, his plunging becoming more and more frantic. His hips shook in his bliss, his breath on my neck enticingly warm and heavy.
“Let go,” He whispered into my skin. “Come for me, Pam.”
With his words and two more circles of his hips, my trembling gave way to orgasm, my body shaking with need under the weight of my husband’s body thrusting into mine.
“You’re so beautiful, baby. God, you’re so gorgeous.” His murmured words in ear sent me careening headlong into another set of waves.
A few more glides in and out, he started to gasp in earnest, sucking on the skin between my neck and shoulder. I stroked between his shoulder blades, urging his body to keep pace, to allow him to feel the pleasure he’d just given me. I kept raising my hips to meet his, squeezing him with my pelvic muscles to create a slick tightness. His groan allowed me to know that he was close. I slid my hands to his ass, pulling him harder into me.
He lifted his head to look at me, his eyes bright in anticipation of his impending release, and I leaned my head up to catch his lips in a kiss. And he let go.
We remained in that position for several minutes, coming down from our panting breaths and post-lovemaking haze. Finally Jim pulled away, slipping out of me and leaning against his desk next to me.
“By the way,” I blinked, my breathing still uneven. “My dress wasn’t blue.”
“Hmm?” Jim looked down at me with confusion.
I kissed his nose before I leaned down to pull my bra from the floor.
“My dress was periwinkle.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“Periwinkle?”
I nodded.
“Periwinkle.”
He grinned as he pulled his shirt over his head and gestured to the pajama pants I was struggling to slide up my legs.
“Periwinkle or not, I really prefer naked.”
I giggled and smacked his ass as he bent to grab his belt.
“In that case, get me home and we can be naked all night.”
His eyes light up like a child on Christmas morning, the dark, heavy memories of the date completely having slipped from us.
“Race you to the car!”
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Chapter Notes:
A few months ago, my husband and I went to a bar in the little town we'd grown up in, where we saw my ex-boyfriend. Even though the hubby and I have been together for almost 8 years, hubby's reaction to old insecurities were rather surprising.
Hence, the following. A little angsty, but hope you all enjoy :)
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Hence, the following. A little angsty, but hope you all enjoy :)
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Chapter End Notes:
Gah! I lost my smut cherry... Has anyone seen it?
stjoespirit04 is the author of 25 other stories.
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