"So, Jack Manning, here's where you'll be working," Todd said.
"The copy room?"
"That's right, for starters. You're our copyboy, which means, you do whatever errands need to be done. You can start by getting the cooler completely filled, and making coffee for the staff." Todd put his hand out to Blair, who took it and followed him out of the copy center.
Jack looked to the corner of the room. There was a cooler, with one or two bottled water left, and a coffee maker, with an old pot, almost boiled to nothing. "It's going to be a long day," he said aloud.
Todd pulled Blair against him in the elevator. "Todd, don't you think you were a little rough on Jack?" she asked.
"Todd. . ." she said, in her warning voice.
"I am treating him just how I'd treat anyone in his shoes. Except his cost more."
"Kiss me," he said.
"Why should I? Maybe you should work your way up?"
"All right, if you say so," he said, pausing the elevator between floors. He went to his knees and ran his hands up her thighs, and under her short leather skirt.
She swatted him like a fly. "Todd! Not here."
"Why not? No one is looking." He slid her skirt up, and moved her panties to the side, sliding his finger against her.
Unable to resist, she threw her head back and sighed. "Todd," her voice softened and her hands went into his hair. "maybe we should . . . maybe . . ."
Without notice, he pulled her toward him and slid her panties down, enough so that he could kiss and fondle her with his mouth, and her knees weakened. He looked up at her. "You were saying?"
"Nothing," she said, taking his hair and pushing his head toward her again. He used his tongue in ways he'd taken years to perfect until she was almost unable to stand up.
He said, "That's okay, just wait a minute. Here, let me support you." He stood, after putting her underwear back in place, and moving her skirt back down, and pulled her to lean on him, gently. She was breathing heavily as he pushed the elevator button and got it going again.
He smirked. "That's what that weird-colored couch is for in my office. Times like these," he said, and she glanced down to see him, hard and evident, in his pants. She was beside herself, ravenous, and aching for him to finish what he started on her. She could only stare at his beautiful mouth, as he watched the numbers go up, until they reached the top floor. He was acting nonchalant, but the bulge in his slacks was telling on him. When they exited, he said, "I have a lot of work to do, so, just hang out here a while." She squinted at him, and he smiled. "Is there something wrong?"
"Not unless you have a banana in there." She pointed to his crotch.
"Yeah, that. You're not serious, about the work, are you?" She could feel the wetness of herself between her legs.
"Yeah, of course. The banana will go down. Don't worry."
She put both hands on her hips.
He said, "Did you want to ask me something?"
She knew where he was going with it. He was in one of those moods. "Maybe."
"Well," he said, pretending to be busy at his desk, "whenever you're ready."
"Todd Manning . . ."
"Yes, Mrs. Manning," he said, and his impish smile was melting her heart, but the ache in her middle was growing.
She said, "I could ask you to finish what you started."
"What does that mean?"
She walked over to his desk and leaned on it, leaning over toward him, so that her cleavage showed. His eyes scanned there, and rested for a moment, before moving up to hers. She said, "You know what it means." She reached down. His bulge was pushing at his trousers, and she touched over it, lightly.
His voice went ragged and rasped, "Say it."
"Take me, with your tongue first and your . . . " she whispered, into his ear before her tongue lathed his earlobe. She didn't have time to finish her sentence when he grunted, involuntarily, pushing her onto the desk in front of him, and hiking her skirt. He buried his face in her, and she moaned and sighed, until waves of pleasure shook her and she cried out his name. As she pulsated against his mouth, he kissed her body and then inside her thighs.
Then she said, "Two can play at this game, Mr. Manning," and pulled her skirt down, moving him away from her. "And you know what it does to me when you play."
She went to the windows, overlooking the city, and he came up behind her. He drew in a long, deep breath of her hair and her perfume, and rubbed himself against her bottom. She said, "You know what it does . . . to both of us."
He ran his hands over her breasts and torso, and slipped his hand inside the waistband of her skirt, and when he touched her, she bucked slightly, still sensitive from his previous work. She said, "Well?"
"I . . . want you." His voice was gravelly and rough, hushed and had a twinge of desperation.
"Yeah, you know I do. You can feel me."
"But can I hear you?"
He smiled. He knew what she wanted to hear. He leaned to her ear, "You're going to scream my name loud enough to bring security."
She heard her own breath catch. She knew it wasn't often, but whenever he had spoken to her, this way, she would become particularly hungry for him and all but lose control. Something in her ignited. "How loud is that?" she teased, walking away, toward the couch.
He went to her, and his eyes were glued to her. He took her face in his hands, and kissed her, his tongue bringing the flavor of herself to her. Her knees buckled again, and she ran her hand along his length, still in his pants. To her surprise, he took his tongue out of her mouth, and ran it along her neck, while saying, "I want you, you know that's what I want. I want to be inside you, and feel you, all around me," and with that, he unzipped her leather skirt, and it fell.
He gently pushed her back onto the couch, and undid his belt and pants. He was ready and swollen with need, and he didn't wait, but neither did she. She opened herself to him, and he thrust himself inside her with powerful strokes before she called out his name, with passion and ecstasy in her voice, and came, again, beating and throbbing around him.
"Babe, you feel so good," and his last word was trimmed off by his moans and her name on his lips. She watched him, eyes closed, body slick and pumping into hers, and felt a thrill go through her at the sight of him in release.
He lowered himself onto her, and nuzzled into her neck. She traced lines on his back, and said, "I love you, Todd."
He didn't answer, except with soft kisses along her neck and jaw. He rested there, and soon she heard the soft sounds of his slumber.
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