It started long before Michael decided to have a supply closet built.
That’s just when it got worse.
They both drifted into fantasy now and again. Maybe it was the fluorescent lighting. Or the low hum of phone conversation. Or the flat expanse of a career in paper.
Or maybe it was just the dozen or so feet separating the unattainable from the unthinkable.
When Michael announced the new construction, an effort to tidy the office for an annual review, he ended by saying, “Don’t let me catch any of you lovebirds making out in there!”
A few minutes later, Jim loosened his tie and headed toward the restroom.
Pam hit the automatic voicemail button and closed her eyes.
x x x x x
She stood facing the back shelf, surrounded by neat piles of office supplies. She was sifting her fingers through a box of colored paper clips. She liked how they slid over her nails. The sh-sh-sh sound they made helped her block out the sound of phones ringing.
Then, behind her, something changed. The light shifted, the air retreated, and she knew that he was there. Two soft steps, then the oiled click of a new lock. Two more steps, and she could feel him standing over her, watching…
…as her hand continued to sweep through the paper clips. He could smell the maddening scent of her, some combination he’d never been able to pin down. Her hair looked soft, and when he unclipped her barrette, it fell over his fingers. Her hand stopped moving.
He pushed his fingers through her hair, lifting it off of her neck. He leaned down, and hesitated, listening for her breathing. There was none. He touched his lips to the soft skin on the back of her neck, and she gasped. Paper clips cascaded onto the floor…
…and she could vaguely feel them hitting her shoes. His lips were soft, his breath warm on her skin. She felt as though she were charged. She closed her eyes, but began to lose her balance, so she opened them again. He had sensed the shift, and his hands now held her arms. She was disappointed to feel her hair fall, until she felt him easing her sweater from her shoulders. She let the weight of it drop away.
His hands were warm, moving on her arms, his fingertips tracing light trails up the inside…wrist…elbow…higher, lightly brushing the sides of her breasts. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled gently, so that she felt his entire body against hers. A low-level vibration thrummed between them. She reached down for one of his hands, smoothed the skin and hair on the back, then turned it over and kissed his palm. She took a deep breath…
…and turned around. She didn’t meet his eyes, but began to loosen his tie. He felt it slip from beneath his collar, then jumped as her fingers grazed his throat, undoing his buttons, down, down. When she reached his belt, she began tugging his shirts from his pants. Two final buttons and his shirt came apart. Her hands came up to rest on his t-shirt, then slid down and underneath. He drew a short breath as her fingers touched his stomach, and didn’t remember to exhale until they had pushed up and over his chest, and back down again, her nails dragging slightly against his skin. She pushed the soft cotton shirt up…
…until she could see his chest. She leaned in until his hair tickled her nose, and inhaled. Warm, clean, spicy, and something…sharper. Her mind couldn’t place it, but deep in her belly a flame sparked to life. She felt an overwhelming urge to taste him, and touched her tongue lightly to his skin. She held his sides as she tasted him on her tongue, feeling the muscles below his ribs contract as he tried to breathe normally. She reached up and slid his work shirt off and down his arms. He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. She watched his chest work as his arms came back down. She looked up into his eyes…
…and he saw it. The recognition of something he’d already known for a long time. That passed quickly, though. What made his hands move again was the invitation that followed.
He started with the top button. The next few buttons were a little more difficult; her shirt pulled tighter there. He continued down, afraid to see yet what he was uncovering. When he had finished, he hesitated, then pulled her shirt apart, careful not to touch her skin.
The bead on her necklace rested in the dip at the base of her throat. He touched it, then ran his thumb down her breastbone until it was stopped by her bra. He could feel her heartbeat in his thumb. He pushed her shirt off her shoulders. When she pulled her arms back so that her shirt could slide off, her breasts rose, constricted. He put a finger under each strap, and lifted them to the side,…
…placing a kiss where each had been. His fingers moved along the tops of her breasts, next to the lace, then his hands reached behind her, and unhooked her bra. He pulled it away slowly. She felt the air touch her breasts, but it was the way his eyes moved over them that made her nipples firm. His mouth opened slightly, and his hands hovered for a moment before he knelt. He pulled her wrists behind her, and held them there with one hand. With his other, he drew the backs of his fingers along the underside of a breast. She moaned, arching her back. When his mouth covered her nipple, hot, wet, she cried out, and her knees buckled.
He didn’t let go of her wrists. Instead, his arm tightened until he was supporting her. His tongue explored her skin almost lazily, dipping into her navel, gliding up and across her collarbone, along the pulse in her neck, to her earlobe. He breathed her name into her ear, and she thought she might die if…
…he didn’t kiss her. He released her wrists, and she sank to her knees, but before she could recover herself, he was kissing her, hard and hungrily. She opened under his mouth, sucking on his tongue, biting his lips, pulling his hair. Her mouth was cool and salty and he was pretty sure he’d never need air again. Then she was fumbling with his belt, not content to unbuckle it, but yanking it from its loops. He reached behind her to unzip? - unbutton? - her skirt, but her hand slipped under the waistband of his boxers and he was lost. Her fingers gripped him at the base and pulled up. He thought she might have let out a surprised growl, but he was already blind, and his hearing may have been failing as well. Mostly he concentrated on ripping off her skirt, slip, hose, panties. So many layers. When she no longer wore any semblance of clothing, he slid his hand between her legs, drawing his fingers up along the hot, slick skin there. She groaned something about please and right there, so he…
…glided his fingers back and forth in slow strokes, then pushed two long fingers inside her.
He stopped moving. She clenched her muscles and her teeth and willed him to move.
He didn’t.
So she did.
She began stroking him, urgently, rubbing her thumb under his tip. He hissed and began moving his fingers and thumb again, until she couldn’t help whimpering.
Long, every part of him was so long. She needed all of it. Now.
She pushed his shoulders until she was on top of him. He grunted as his back hit the floor, but was already gripping her hips with strong hands. She felt herself being lifted – mmm, higher than normal – and then she was…
…taking him all in.
She tried to move, but he gripped her harder to keep her still. He needed to remember what this felt like. He looked up to find her looking at him, into him, really seeing him, finally. She leaned down and kissed him, slow and sweet, then sat back and smiled. “Hey you.”
“Hey.”
Suddenly, her muscles tightened around him. His eyes widened as one of her eyebrows rose. “What?” Her muscles squeezed again.
“Oh, that’s not fair.”
“Fair?”
Squeeze.
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
Squeeze.
“Maybe you should explain.”
Then she began to move on him…
…and conversation was impossible. She grabbed the shelves on either side and pulled to lift herself. He was gripping her hips again, helping her move, and she could feel the tremors starting in her belly. Oh, it had been so long since she’d felt those. He was hot inside her, filled her and then some, and though she wanted to feel him sliding into her forever, her body finally took over.
She began to move faster. He was breathing hard, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as he lifted her. She felt the tremor becoming a wave, and hoped he was ready, because she couldn’t outrun it. As it broke over her, she cried his name…
…and laughed for joy. He cried out explosively and laughed with her.
She slowly came to a stop, and sat on him panting, her hands resting softly on his thighs.
“You are so beautiful. You know that, right?”
She smiled at him…
…“I do now.”
A sudden pounding on the door made them both jump.
x x x x x
“Pam? Hello?!”
Startled, Pam looked up. Michael was knocking on the countertop. “Man, what is with everyone today? Bunch of space cadets!”
She looked down to find her hands gripping the edge of her desk, her knuckles white.
She could still feel the residual spasms, so she pressed her knees together, and stared intently at her computer. A movement caught her eye, and she glanced up to see Jim emerging from the kitchen. His hair was a little wet, like he’d just splashed water on his face. When their eyes met, they both blushed. He cleared his throat and sat down. She pressed the button to open the phone, and within a minute it was ringing again.
By the time he came up for a piece of candy, her hands had just about stopped shaking.
Author's Chapter 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.
nomadshan is the author of 44 other stories.
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