Chapter 4

It’s coming up to 10am, and she’s still not here. There’s scaring her off and then there’s terrifying her to the point she didn’t come to work today. Surely our friendship is stronger than that. Surely, she would’ve just shut me down and we’d laugh about it one day.

Maybe I should have stopped myself from typing that reply. When she called me sir in that message, I should have ignored it. I might have just lost the one woman I can’t imagine my life without. And all because I thought there was a chance she might understand that side of me. The side I sometimes feel ashamed for having.

There’s a flash of lilac past my office door, and I look up. She’s here.

My eyes follow her all the way to her seat, watch her place her bag under her desk, switch on the computer, rearrange her workspace. Before I know it, I’m up and standing on the threshold of my office, waiting for some kind of explanation. She doesn’t even look my way. Not once. Not even a glance in my direction.

I’m not a monster, I know shit happens, sometimes being late is unavoidable. I also don’t care enough to make an issue of it with the staff, but with her, I want to know. Need to know. But if I call her over, the rest of them will think it’s strange. I’ve never done it with any of them. But then, they’ve usually stopped by on the way to their desk, or got the computer on and then popped in. Her, she’s just carrying on as if nothing has happened.

I stalk back to my seat, eyes darting to her time and time again. It’s eating away at me, driving me crazy. I pull out my phone, not a single message from her. We don’t message at work, but this is an exception.

Is everything okay?

She picks up her phone from the desk in front of her, reads the message, places it down again. What the fuck?

Why were you late?

Again, she reads it and ignores it. My blood heats and I have to move, start to pace around my office, phone in hand. One more, one more and then I’m going out there.

Are you going to explain?

This time she doesn’t even pick up the phone, just leans back in her seat, makes herself even more visible to me, and then gives me the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen her give.

My blood is boiling now. I give her a look, wave my phone at her, silently telling her to read her damn message. She picks up her phone, nods at it as if to say ‘This?’ I’m unsure what exactly is going on, but I give a quick scan of the room before waving my phone at her again.

She makes a big deal out of reading her messages, looks over at me a couple of times, starts typing. I watch those dots bounce on the screen, infuriatingly slowly. It’s the longest few seconds of my life.

I thought messaging at work wasn’t allowed. You might start feeding the gossips if you keep sending me messages like this…Sir.

Fuck. She spins once on her chair, her eyes finding mine with another grin. Fuck. Instant hard-on. This isn’t her ignoring me, this is her playing with me. Oh, she wants to play? I’ll fucking play.

She’s right though, if our colleagues so much as get a sniff of our friendship, they’d go to town. I’d warned her about them, said we should keep it under wraps while we were in the office. Simply because I know what a load of vultures they are. I hadn’t wanted Kara to find herself inundated with questions, have to explain herself when she had no way of getting away from them. It’s different for me, if they ask me anything, I can just shut myself in my office, not deal with their bullshit.

They hadn’t noticed we’d snuck away together back at Easter, but Kara was so new then, people hadn’t really gotten to know her, and others had left and not gone on to the club either, so no-one had put two and two together. If they had, they would have had us dating in seconds, married in minutes, and she’d probably have been pregnant in a matter of weeks with the power of their fake news.

But standing here in my office, I couldn’t care less about the people we work with. All I care about is her.

We shouldn’t feed them. But you were late, and I was worried.

The wink she shoots me across the office floor tells me she knew that already. And then she adds fuel to my already raging fire.

I know. But I also imagine in that head of yours you’ve got me bent over your desk and giving me a spanking for being late.

She’s offering me an obvious opportunity here to move myself out of the friend zone. But if this is all she wants, is happy for this playful flirting, am I still all in? Because I definitely want more with her. Just thinking about this, though, the idea of it, fuck it’s got me straining at my trousers. A state I’m getting increasingly used to since she’s been around.

Decision time. Phone in hand, I send another message.

Oh, I’m doing more than spanking you in this head of mine. I’m sure you’ve broken quite a few rules this morning and deserve any punishment I decide to mete out.

That seemed to pique her interest.

Oh yeah, am I on my knees for you too? Am I being a good girl?

Hmm, so she likes being called a good girl, seems she might have a bit of a praise kink going on. I’m learning all sorts about her today.Mmm, this is delicious, the back and forth, the teasing. I’ll be reading this again later in bed, remembering every last detail of her face as we flirt across the office.

Fuck!! But no, you’re not being a good girl at all. You’re wearing that top you wore last week when we saw a movie, had some drinks.

Her reply pings straight back.

What’s wrong with this top? You said it was nice.

Oh, it is. It’s gorgeous, fits her perfectly, shows off those stunning curves.

It is nice, but every man that passed you took a good long look. I didn’t like that.

A small grin to herself. It gives away the fact she likes I was jealous. And the dots that bounce only serve to excite me further. I’ve got to sit down, can’t stand here with this bulge in my pants.

You’re kinda possessive, huh?

Damn right I am. Especially when it comes to her. Maybe it’s because she’s younger, maybe because she isn’t from around here, maybe just because I see myself reflected in her eyes and know we’re two halves of a whole, a perfect pairing. Maybe it’s simply because I fancy her rotten and can’t bear the thought of another man touching her. However, I suspect it was a little of all of those initially, and now, having gotten to know her, it’s also the fact I’m totally and utterly in love with her. And I have to make that clear, put it out there.

Only on days ending in ‘Y’ and with those I care about. And I care about you. A lot.

Those fucking dots again. Bounce, stop, bounce, stop, over and over. It’s obvious she’s writing and deleting, rewriting, deleting, working out her reply. It’s cute, but fucking torture. I want to know how she feels, but she’s playing her cards close to her chest. I can’t read her.

You being all possessive is actually rather nice.

That wasn’t quite what I hoped for, but it tells me she’s okay with a bit of possessiveness. I just hope that when she realises just how far my kinks go, that this is just the tip of the iceberg, she’ll not run for the hills. Or the first train back to Cornwall.

She’s out of her seat now, the kitchen her destination by the looks of it, maybe a coffee in the purple mug she favours. That mug that gets to have her lips on it every day. Fuck, and now I’m jealous of a mug. What? Wait, what’s she doing? Why has she stopped at Derek’s desk, leant down behind his partition so I can’t see her? What the fuck?

You want to be a good girl? Come see me in my office. Now!

I’ve no idea what I’m doing, no idea what will happen when she comes in here, how I’ll control myself in the state I’m in. Fuck.

Can’t. Sorry. Busy. Work, work, work, you know how it is.

Oh, the little tease. I thought she was quiet, a little shy, but it seems she might be a bit of a brat at heart. Fucking perfect. Someone to push my buttons, take me right to the edge, stretch my limits.

I can always stay late if you need to talk to me though, sir.

Talk? Talk? By the end of the day, I’ll be so wound up she’ll barely get through the door before I’m fucking her against it. No, I need to be able to control this.

You’ll do as I say. In my office. Now.

She pops up from behind Derek’s cubicle, a quick glance in my direction before she heads on to the kitchen. I could follow her, go over there, stand closely behind her as she makes a drink, hot breath on the back of her neck, have her feel how hard she’s got me. But there’s that chance of getting caught. It’s risky, too risky.

What if I don’t? What then? You going to come into the break room and bend me over the sofa, take me roughly as people file in and out, have me right here in public?

Holy fucking hell. She’s making me work for this, and it’s fuelling every kink and fantasy I’ve ever had, possibly ones I didn’t even know about. She knows exactly what she’s doing. And she’s loving every second.

Then I come and get you. Your choice.

Her eyes flick to me as she crosses the office back to her desk, that damn lucky purple mug in her hands. It’s when she sits down though, twists in her seat and looks directly at me with a smile, that I break.

“Kara, a word, please.”

Her eyes widen as I call this out across the office, as heads that were working, deep in concentration, suddenly pop up, look between her and me.

“I need you to take notes on something. Bring your drink, this is a mess, could take a while. You know shorthand, right?” I add, a quick afterthought, tracks covered. It’s not the first time I’ve asked someone to take notes, won’t be the last. I just have nothing for Kara to take down. Unless it’s her underwear.

“Coming,” she replies, standing, gathering her things.

Oh, she will be.