6. Jameson

6

JAMESON

I attempt to clean myself up a few minutes after we close, but honestly, it's almost a futile effort. The rags I have on hand reek faintly of grease, so I'm essentially just smearing more grease over the spots I'm trying to wipe away. It's a messy battle, and I'm not even sure Amelia notices the effort I'm putting in, but I want to do right by her. I want her to see that I care.

When I finally mustered the courage to tell her how I truly felt, her face practically lit up with excitement. The way her eyes sparkled was something I'd never forget. Yet, beneath that joy, there was a flicker of fear, as if she was bracing herself for the moment I'd pull the rug out from under her and reveal that it was all just a prank. But deep down, I could tell that her excitement was genuine, and it made my heart race with hope.

When I hinted at the thought of her lying bare in my bedroom, teetering on the precipice of pleasure, the rosy hue that spread across her cheeks only served to fuel my own desire. I couldn't help but envision sweeping her off her feet and onto her desk, right then and there, to see if I could bring about that blissful release. And so, a part of the reason I asked her to remain after work was simply to explore this burgeoning connection. Perhaps it would blossom into a date, or perhaps something more intimate. Yet, Amelia's inscrutable demeanor left me guessing, and I found myself all the more intrigued by the mystery she presented.

I wanted to do right by her, to show her that my intentions were genuine. I wanted her to see the depth of my feelings and to trust in the potential of what we could share. That thrilling moment when she revealed her vulnerability, her fear of being hurt mixed with the unmistakable glimmer of hope, made me even more determined to protect her heart. I would be there for her, to catch her if she fell and to cherish her every step of the way.

As the evening wore on, I found myself drawn to her in a way I couldn't explain. Her laughter filled the room, as rich and warm as a summer breeze, and her eyes danced with a light that seemed to pierce right through me. I felt a connection with her that transcended the boundaries of our workplace, and I knew in that instant that I wanted to explore it further.

So, I took a chance and asked her out on a proper date. The way her face lit up at the prospect filled me with a sense of joy that I hadn't felt in ages. She agreed, and as we shared a smile that seemed to hold all the promise of the future, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the serendipitous twist of fate that had brought her into my life.

Together, we would navigate the complexities of our newfound relationship, learning to trust one another and to build a bond that would stand the test of time. And as I looked into her eyes, I knew that I would do everything in my power to make her happy, to be the man she deserved, and to cherish her always.

The men had all filtered out pretty quickly. They had other jobs, wives or girlfriends, or something else to get home to. So after getting as cleaned up as I was going to get, I hightailed it to the office where Amelia was still engulfed in work. She was no longer working on a spreadsheet, but her brunette locks were now piled high on her head in a clip as she scanned documents on her duplicate screens.

I let myself into the office, the familiar scent of paper and faint coffee lingering in the air. "Hey, gorgeous," I greet her with a smile that I hope conveys my affection before heading to the front doors to check if they're locked. With the city winding down outside, I want to ensure we have a little privacy. "Busy?"

She stands up, and I can see the nervous smile dancing on her lips—it's a mix of excitement and uncertainty about what's coming next. "I was staying that way while I waited for you," she replies, her voice steady but her eyes betraying a hint of curiosity. "So, what did you want to talk about, Jameson?" Amelia steps away from her desk and leans against the side, her arms crossed over her body, an unconscious barrier that I hope to break down.

Her crossed arms and guarded stance may scream "stay back," but I'm not about to let that deter me now. I've spent a year biding my time, waiting for the right moment to make my intentions known. My usual confidence took a back seat when it came to Amelia; I didn't want to risk our friendship or have her think I was some creepy older guy. But now that the cat's out of the bag and I know she feels the same, I'm not letting a little defensiveness stand between us.

With a nonchalant stride, I make my way across the room from the front door and close the distance between us. "So, I was hoping you'd given some more thought to what we talked about earlier. You know, the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing, going on dates, sharing meals, sex, and... well, everything that comes with it." The words hang in the air as I watch her reaction closely, hoping she's on the same page as me.

Her face reddens at the mention of 'sex', and I can't help but grin even wider. I close the remaining distance between us, standing so close that I can feel the heat radiating off her body.

"Well, we'll have to keep things casual at work," she suggests, looking up at me with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. "I don't want anyone here knowing about us."

I raise an eyebrow, trying to gauge whether she's serious or not. It's clear that the guys haven't been giving her a hard time like I initially thought, or else she would already be aware of their assumptions about us. "That's fine, but outside of these walls, you're mine, Amelia," I say firmly, watching as a visible shudder runs through her. "And I would want everyone to know it."

With that, I take the opportunity to close the gap between us completely, reaching out to take her hands in mine. She hesitates for a moment, her eyes searching mine, before finally allowing herself to relax into my touch. The tension between us seems to dissipate, replaced by a sense of excitement and anticipation for what's to come.

"Jameson, we can't do this here," she reminds me of the rule she just made, her voice a mix of playful protest and underlying thrill.

"No one is here," I whisper, leaning down to close the gap between us and kiss her. The warmth of her breath mingles with the cool air of the shop, heightening the tension that seems to hum around us.

Her mouth parts, ready to argue, but I seize the moment, slipping my tongue inside. Instead of a battle of words, our tongues dance with a fervent passion that has been building between us for far too long. Her hands release mine, finding their way around my neck, pulling me closer as if she can't get enough. I respond instinctively, grabbing her hips and lifting her effortlessly, setting her down on the desk with a sense of urgency and desire.

In a moment of fevered excitement, I bite gently on her bottom lip and growl, a primal urge surging through me. The sound that escapes her lips—a soft laugh—sends a rush of warmth through my veins, and I can't help but smile against her mouth, reveling in this intoxicating connection we share.

"You're an animal," she says, her voice barely above a whisper as she pulls away from me, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and desire. I can't help but grin at her teasing tone, my heart racing with excitement.

"I know what I want," I tell her, my lips curling into a smirk as I bypass her mouth and dive straight for her neck, kissing and nibbling on the sensitive spot just below her ear. I can feel her body trembling beneath my touch, her breath hitching in her throat as I reach for her jeans and begin to unbutton them. My own desire is palpable, my cock pressing against my pants, determined to make its own appearance.

"Lay down," I command, my voice low and husky with need. She looks behind her and pushes the stuff on her desk out of her way before doing as she's told, her eyes never leaving mine. I waste no time in removing her jeans and discarding them, leaving a pair of pink panties between me and my prize.

For a moment, I hesitate, my hand hovering over the delicate fabric. "Is it okay if I go further?" I ask her, my voice soft and gentle. She nods, her cheeks flushed with desire, and I can't resist the urge to kiss her again, my lips crushing against hers as I explore her body with my hands.

Amelia's agreement sends a wave of relief and excitement through me, and I silently offer a prayer of gratitude. I know I would have respected her decision if she had refused, but I can't deny the relief that washes over me at her consent. With a reverent touch, I hook my fingers into the waistband of her panties and slide them down her legs, savoring the feel of her soft skin against my fingertips. I can't help but let out a soft exclamation of appreciation as I take in the sight of her half-naked body, curvy and inviting. The desire to bring her pleasure consumes me, and I waste no time in positioning myself between her legs.

Amelia's thighs part easily for me, and I bury my face in the soft, fragrant folds of her sex. I hear her moan softly as I begin to explore her with my tongue, licking and teasing her sensitive nub with languorous strokes. The taste of her is intoxicating, and I find myself lost in the rhythm of pleasuring her. I slide a finger inside of her, feeling her warmth and wetness envelop me. Her hips buck up against me, and I hear her gasp as I curl my finger to find the spot that sets her off.

As I continue my exploration of Amelia's most intimate parts, I can't help but be captivated by the way her body responds to my touch. I flick her tiny nub a few times with my tongue, savoring the sound of her sharp intakes of breath and the swear words that escape her lips. I slide a second finger inside of her, adjusting my rhythm based on the motion of her hips and the urgency in her voice. Her stomach undulates beneath my hand, and I use it to hold her in place, trying to keep her still as the pleasure builds within her. Amelia grips my wrist tightly, our connection unbreakable, as she surrenders to the ecstasy that I'm providing her with. It's a powerful feeling, knowing that I have the ability to bring her such intense pleasure, and I'm determined to see her through to the end.

Her moans grow louder as I continue to lap at her, my tongue darting in and out of her folds as I savor the taste of her arousal. I slide three fingers inside of her, curling them upwards to hit her g-spot as I match the rhythm of her hips, which are now bucking wildly against my face. She gasps and moans, her breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as she approaches her climax.

"Fuck, Jameson," she cries out, her voice hoarse with pleasure. I can feel her muscles clenching around my fingers as she grinds herself against my face, chasing her release. The sounds of her pleasure are intoxicating, and I can feel myself growing harder with each passing second.

As her orgasm subsides, she collapses back onto the desk, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. "Oh my god, that was amazing," she whispers, her voice still shaky.

I slowly withdraw my fingers from her, my movements gentle and deliberate. I discreetly wipe her juices off my face and kiss one of her thick thighs, which are still trembling slightly. "You're amazing, honey," I say, my voice low and husky. "One of a kind, actually." I can't help but feel like Amelia has ruined me for other women. No one else compares to her.