One week later

Oh my God, she thought as she rose from the car. This is weird. Almost too weird. Her eyes scanned the parking lot, certain everyone would know. Everyone in the world. Not that there were many people around… okay, there weren't any, because it was two in the morning, but it was the principle of the thing. She looked into Jim's eyes and saw the desire flaring there, for just a moment before he banked it. "After you," he said courteously, closing the passenger door behind her.

Clearing her throat, Pam attempted to regain her composure as she walked toward the shopping carts. She took small steps, trying to avoid jarring the plug he'd secured inside her on their way out of the house. Afterward, he'd licked her and fingered her until she was a heartbeat away from coming… then he'd stopped. Evil, she reflected, pondering how best to get him back. She couldn't come, obviously. As much as she wanted to, she simply wouldn't let it happen. She thought about furries–ew–Dwight and Angela–gross–Michael Scott, Kevin Malone, Todd Packer–ahh, much better. She shot Jim a victorious glance as she preceded him through the electric doors.

Jim followed her into the store, eyeing her skirt and the tiny steps she was taking with a possessive gleam. Orgasm denial hadn't been in his top three the week before–truthfully, it had never really been on his radar–but it had shot up there after the videos they'd watched together. He sidled up next to her in the produce section. Nobody was around. If anyone besides the cashier and night manager were even in the store, he'd be shocked. "You feeling alright, Beesly? You look a little flushed."

"I feel great. What do you think, red potatoes or russet?"

He smiled at the implicit challenge. Trust an artist to come up with a series of rainbow-betical safewords that were diametrically opposed to the typical green-yellow-red system. If she hit blue, it would be time to go. Until then… "I think we're good on potatoes," he replied off-handedly. He reached for a cucumber and circled it suggestively with his fingers. "What about this?" Having gone grocery shopping the day before, they didn't need anything at all, but Price Chopper was well-known for being a ghost town after midnight.

"Looks a little big for you," she whispered with a mischievous smile, reaching for a puny plantain. "I think this might be more your speed."

"Still way too big for me," he admitted. As they'd discussed, he wasn't really amenable to that. The toys he was into were strictly vibratory and external in nature. Not, of course, that he minded her teasing him about it. "I was thinking about tossing a salad later tonight."

Her eyes widened. "Might wanna get some uh, baby carrots to go with that."

Orange, he noted, nostrils flaring. "Great idea," he complimented her after a moment. "I… love… the taste."

She closed her eyes on a shiver. "Maybe some… blueberries for dessert."

Oh shit. Oh fuck. He clasped his arm protectively around her. "Alright. Let's get home."

"Grapes," she whispered, grasping the cart so tightly her knuckles turned white, trying not to move or make a sound because it was too late and she was coming, oh God she was coming in public.

"Nobody's around," he reassured her just as quietly, pressing her face into his chest. "'S'okay, it's okay sweetheart." Silently, he berated himself. God, this had been the worst idea. Sure, it wasn't only his, it had been a joint effort, but they should have tried it without him teasing her first. She was going to be so upset. "Tell me what you need," he whispered. "Anything. I'm so sorry."

She lifted her head cautiously, confirming that nobody was within sight. "Better not be," she murmured hotly.