Darryl let the warehouse guys leave early, right after the game. They’d had to finish up work before the game anyhow, and once that shipment left, there wasn’t anything else to do. Roy left along with them, making sure Pam could get a ride with Angela or someone so he didn’t have to come back later.

            The office staff found themselves in the middle of an empty warehouse in all of two minutes after Michael had ceded the game.

            They started filing back up to the offices, solemnly. She’d stayed behind to watch some of the “after game,” as Kevin had called it. He started making free throws, sinking most of them, but instead of Kevin, she found herself watching Jim watching him.

            He was absently fingering his swollen lip, occasionally brushing the beads of sweat out of his eyes

            She was amazed watching him play. If she really had to think about it, she might have guessed that he would be good at basketball. He certainly had his build on his side, but he was graceful at that. She remembered the way he’d darted past Roy, his arm tossing the ball behind him to his other hand.

            It was a move she’d seen plenty of times from players on TV during the games Roy watched, but she’d never seen it in any kind of pick up game before.

            She looked down at his legs, all muscle. Roy had nice legs, too, all the lifting that he did, but they weren’t like Jim’s. His seemed to stretch forever, tight in all the right places.

            His gym shorts fell just at his knees, and she gazed upward over the slick mesh, remembering how it had moved when he was playing. She couldn’t help but watch him as he ran by, his ass silhouetted by the movement of the fabric.

            Kevin tossed him the ball and she was momentarily snapped out of her thoughts. She watched his fingers curl around the basketball, drumming slightly. He bent at the knees and bounced a bit before jumping and flinging it toward the net.

            She watched it swoosh in and did an exaggerated golf clap. Jim turned to her and smiled wide, curtsying.

            “Oh!” She let it out suddenly and he looked up at her confused. “Your lip,” she pointed. He’d reopened the split when he smiled.

            She watched him run his tongue over his bottom lip and she felt the shiver run through her, settling between her legs. He knit his brows when he tasted the blood.

            “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

            “I’ll get the first aid kit,” she walked over to the chair where Angela had left it. She turned around and he was right behind her, she jumped a little, putting her hands out against his chest to brace herself. She could feel the warm dampness from his sweat on the thin t-shirt fabric.

            “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” his eyes seemed to pierce into hers, wide and black. “Um,” he looked away and she pulled her hands off him. “So, how do you treat a split lip anyhow?” He laughed nervously.

            She meant to laugh, but it came out more like a gasp and her eyes dropped to his shoes, following the line of his body along the way.

            “I actually have no idea,” she laughed. “I think maybe you just rinse it? I mean, you’re sweating into a cut which really can’t be good.” He looked a little embarrassed and wiped his brow on the back of his arm.

            “Yeah, sorry. I sweat a lot,” she couldn’t tell if he was still flushed or blushing.

            “No, it’s kinda hot,” as soon as she said it, she wanted to take it back. She tried to stammer out something to cover it and only came up with, “you know, in here. The warehouse. Like, playing down here is kinda... it’s just a little bit hot, you know?” It wasn’t. It was actually fairly cold down there with the concrete walls. She knew he knew it, too.

            “I--,” she looked up at him, saw that weird gleam in his eye again and cut him off.

“I think that you’re supposed to put something cold on it? Your lip, I mean. Is what I meant to say. So, I guess this isn’t really,” she lifted the kit lamely and set it back down on the chair.

“Yeah. Is there an ice pack or something?”

“Here, we’ll just,” she gestured to the small kitchen area near Darryl’s office. “There should be a sink and some ice in there. We can probably clean it up a little bit.” She couldn’t seem to stop using the word ‘we.’

When they were under the brighter lights, she turned to him to examine the damage. He stooped down a bit so she could look at it better.

“He hit you pretty hard, didn’t he,” she winced a little and met his eyes.

“It’s... I don’t know, I don’t want to talk about Roy.” His eyes were dark again, this time with a flicker of anger, and he was staring her down a little, but she nodded and turned her attention back to his lip.

“Okay,” looking back, she realized that it was this moment she already knew where they were heading. There was no point in acting awkward about it anymore.

She brushed her thumb over the skin next to the split, feeling his warm breath through his parted lips on her fingertip. The pleasant curl was back, flipping around in her stomach. This was going to happen.

 She heard his breathing catch and he closed his mouth, trapping just the very end of her thumb between his lips.

Before she could think, his mouth was on hers and her arms were involuntarily wrapping around him and pulling him to her. She could taste the bite of iron on his lips as his tongue pushed into her mouth.

“This is going to happen,” she whispered against his lips.

“Yeah,” he pushed her back until she was against the cheap Formica countertops of the warehouse kitchen, his burgeoning erection pressed hard against her hip.

“We have to be fast,” she hissed, looking at the door she knew was only a few feet away from Kevin and Ryan and the few remaining coworkers that had stayed.

“Shit,” his hands were pushing under her shirt, gripping her waist hard enough to bruise.

His hands slid up her skin to cup her breasts and she arched into his palms, her own hands grabbing at his ass through the shorts before brushing them up under his t-shirt and pulling it up and off.

His back was cool and sticky where the sweat was still drying and she pressed into him.

“Hurry,” she whimpered into his chest. She’d been basically ready for this since the game had started, watching him dart around, sweaty and wild. His hands left her shirt and fell to the clasp on her skirt. “No, leave it,” she pushed his hands away and reached under her skirt, pulling her panties and pantyhose down to about her knees.

He reached for the buttons on her shirt and looked down at her, “can’t I at least?” He indicated his intentions by undoing the top button.

“Yes,” she started to work on the bottom buttons and he started on the top. The met in the middle and shoved the fabric off her shoulders. “Wait,” she stopped him before he could reach for her bra clasp. “Behind the fridge,” she nodded to the far wall. At least there, if someone walked in they’d have a place to hide.

He grabbed her around the shoulders and slammed her against the wall behind it. She let out a whoosh of air when her back met with the cold concrete. His mouth was on hers again and his hands were fumbling with the clasp.

His fingers were shaking so badly it was hard to get a grip on the hooks; she reached back quickly to help him.

Her bra dropped to the floor and she pressed herself back into the wall, arching forward, and waiting.

He reached up to top of the fridge for balance and dipped his head down, his mouth closing over her left nipple.

“Shit!” Her head knocked back into the wall but he didn’t let up. She covered her mouth with her hand to suppress some of the noises, her other hand wrapped around his outstretched arm, lifting herself higher and further into his mouth.

His teeth grazed over the sensitive skin as her nipple started to harden against his tongue. Then he bit down, gently at first then and little harder.

Her hips thrust off the wall into his thigh.

“Jim, hurry, please,”she wasn’t above begging. Her hands dropped to his waist and tugged on the elastic of his shorts.

He reached down, cupping her in his hand and feeling her wetness. His eyes closed at the sensation and she let go of him, trying to find something to hold on to, fingers curling uselessly against the wall.

“Ohmigod!” It came out of her in a rush and she pushed down onto his hand. “Just touch me!” He shushed her forcefully, while slipping two fingers into her. She rubbed her back up and down against the wall, trying to set a rhythm for him; he watched her mesmerized.

“What do you want?” He pushed his fingers into her hard, biting his lip at her reactions to his touch. He could still taste the blood in his mouth and fueled him on. She was responsible for this just as much as Roy was.

It felt like revenge fucking, but neither of them was coherent enough to care.

“Fuck me,” she ground down on his hand again, feeling the wall scraping at her back. She knew it would probably still be red later, maybe even scab, which meant that she wouldn’t be having sex with Roy later. At least not until these marks faded. This was it.

“Why?” She could barely comprehend the question, let alone come up with an answer. Her head fell back against the wall again, pressing her hairclip into her scalp. His hand stopped moving in her and he waited. “Why do you want me to fuck you?”

“I don’t know! Jim, please, just,” she thrust against him again. “We have to hurry, I need you!” She pulled his shorts and boxers down far enough to expose his cock and she wrapped her hand around him and started stroking, trying to get him to hurry.

“Give me a reason or I’ll stop,” he threatened. He didn’t actually know why he was doing this to her. It wasn’t her fault that Roy’d nearly attacked him the other day or that the guy’d fucking elbowed him in the face.

“Because I’ve—shit—I’ve wanted this for—watching you play, I wanted to fuck you right on the court,” she looked down at him in her hands, stroked again, “because I want you, I want this inside of me.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked up at him.

“Fuck,” he growled and stumbled forward at her touch, his fingers leaving her. She parted her legs as he got closer. He bent at the knees, still clutching the top of the fridge and she positioned him at her opening.

“Go,” she whispered and as the words left her mouth he was in her, filling her completely. She bit down on his shoulder to keep from shouting.

She wasn’t expecting it so deep so soon and she felt herself close up around him.

“Guh—shit!” He was panting curse words in her ear as he started to move. She relaxed around him some, but he’d built her up so much already that she was so close.

He knew it wouldn’t take long; his free hand wrapped around her right breast and pressed her against the wall. He was biting down hard on the split skin, the coppery taste filling his mouth.

She bit harder into his shoulder, her nails in his back and he realized that she was coming when he felt her squeeze around him.

The combination of the sensation and her teeth in his shoulder sent him over and he was coming hard inside her with a gasp and a shudder, his hand closed tight around her breast.

When he was doing little more than leaning against her, panting, she pulled away from him some, repositioning. When he looked down, he saw that she was wincing a little as she pulled away from the wall.

He felt himself slip out of her and her skirt fell back into place. He let go of her completely, pulling his shorts back up in a swift motion and backed up away from her. He avoided her eyes, but watched her bend over to pick her bra off the floor. Her back was almost raw from the wall.

“What does it look like?” She whispered when she realized he was staring at her.

            “Well, we’re even,” he licked the blood away from his lip, scooped up his t-shirt and walked out.