I抎 know that footfall anywhere, the sounds he makes as he approaches, surprisingly quiet for his size.
I turn, expecting him to say something, to make a joke or address the way I ran out of his room like a coward last weekend. But he says nothing. He doesn抰 even smile. He simply moves forward, and he doesn抰 stop until our bodies are flush. I gasp梥ome combination of surprise and pleasure梬hile his hands grip my hips, pulling me closer.
揟he outfits you wear fucking destroy me,?he says. There is something so certain in his voice, so determined?Maybe he條ike me梙as been pushed too far to wait any longer.
Only the faintest shred of common sense has me yanking him into the closet. He pulls the door shut. 揝omeone could walk in,?I warn. 揟his needs to be fast.?
He spins me toward the closed door and places my palms against it. 揊ast is my middle name.?
揟hat抯 a terrible middle name,?I reply, but then his palm is on my inner thigh, moving upward, and his fingers slide beneath the elastic of my thong, and I can抰 even remember what we were discussing.
揓esus,?he says quietly, against my ear. 揧ou抮e so fucking wet.?
I want to tell him it抯 not for him. I want to tell him almost anything that won抰 give him the credit, but then two fingers push inside me and my head falls to the door. 揅ondom,?I demand. I hear the tearing of foil almost instantly. 揘aturally you have one.?
揑抦 happy to skip it,?he suggests, rolling it on. 揝ince you抮e complaining.?
I laugh. 揧eah, you wi棓 The words are cut off as he pushes inside me. I brace against the door, unprepared for the fullness of it, for how complete it makes me feel when we are like this. He does it again, harder, his hands sliding up beneath my shirt, palming my breasts.
揧ou,?he says, the words timed with his thrusts, 揳re so fucking mouthy.?
揧ou love it,?I gasp as he seats himself inside me again. And it抯 only after I抳e said the words that I realize how true they are. He does love it. No matter what I do to keep him at arm抯 length, he keeps coming back for me.
The sounds we make echo inside the pantry梞y gasps and his filthy words against my ear, my body hitting the door with each wet thrust.
揓esus,?he gasps, 揑抦 so close, Gemma. Tell me what to do.?
I pull one of his hands between my legs. 揟hat.?
He gives a low groan. 揟hat just made it worse. I抦 gonna come so fucking hard, baby.?
I can抰 begin to explain why his words have the effect they do. Why I shiver, why my skin breaks out in goose bumps. Maybe it抯 the quiet desperation in his voice as he says them. Maybe some stupid part of me likes being called baby. 揋od, yes,?I whisper. 揓ust like that.?
揧ou抮e close??he asks. 揙h. God. God.?
The idea of him losing control like this is what puts me over the edge. 揅over my mouth,?I beg, and he does, sinking his teeth into my shoulder to muffle his groan as we both fall apart.
For a single moment it抯 like I抦 floating in space, released at last from everything. I have no idea why we haven抰 been doing exactly this, all along. I don抰 even remember why I hated him or why I抳e been pushing him away.
When my eyes open, my cheek is flat to the door, my fingers and legs spread wide. I can still feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back.
揓esus,?he whispers.
I want to stay like this. I want him to remain inside me, pressed to my back, still overcome by something that had even a little bit to do with me.
He slides out, still hard. I tuck my shirt in while he does God-knows-what with the condom.
揑f you抮e leaving that for Debbie to find, make sure you label it so she knows it抯 yours.?
揑抣l borrow those Sharpies you ordered,?he says with a quiet smile, one that almost seems卆ffectionate.
That smile leaves me feeling strangely weak and uncertain. It makes me want to believe he抯 not someone like my dad, that he won抰 eventually take some na飗e woman抯 best years and destroy her when he抯 ready for fresher fields.
I swallow. 揂re we good??
He arches a brow, and then he presses me to the door. His kiss is soft, slow and very thorough. 揌as anyone ever told you your post-coital charm could use some work??
I laugh. 揥hy would I bother being charming now? I already got what I came here for.?
He tips my chin up to face him. 揝o you抮e admitting you came to the break room hoping this would happen??
Dammit.
揑抦 admitting I came to the break room hoping to find something to eat and didn抰 object to this happening.?
He studies my face, searching for something. 揥hy don抰 we go to dinner??he says at last.
I bite my lip. Why the hell would we sit down together on purpose? I can抰 imagine what we will possibly have to say to each other over a meal once we抮e through discussing the case. 揑t抯 late,?I reply.