I got up from my desk and strolled over to Ari, whose thighs rested on the arm of my couch. Thighs that, less than an hour ago, I was wearing like earmuffs. Thighs that I wanted to touch under her dress at the spot that I knew made her whimper and moan. Just sex with her wasn’t going to be enough. I knew it and she knew it. Not when I’d had a taste of her. It was like trying to put toothpaste back in the container. Impossible.
“I feel like I should give you a proper good morning kiss,” I said, standing next to her. I could feel the heat of her body next to me. She smelled like the soap from her bath, perfume, and the lotion I’d helped apply all over her body, taking extra time with her gorgeous calves. It was the right mix of everything. I wished I could bottle that smell up and sell it.
“But you gave me a proper kiss, well, more than a few kisses, this morning.” Ari grinned. “And those were good morning kisses, right? As in, no more kisses until we’re out of the office?”
“Do they have to be?” I put my hands around her waist and pulled Ari in closer. I nuzzled my nose into her neck, inhaling her. She eased my hand from around my waist, out of my grasp and turned to face me. I looked into her eyes, searching for the look she’d given me last night and this morning. The look that said “I want you. I want this.”
“I think we should get to work,” she whispered as she maneuvered around me. “I’d actually like to look at a few of the cross sections of the left embankment of the stadium.”
Fuck.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” I cleared my throat, letting out a sigh. The feel of her hand brushing past me sent electric ripples against the exposed skin of my forearm. It reminded me of the feeling of her breath against my naked body as she said my name. Over and over and over. I shook my head, trying not to think about us in any more compromising positions.
I met Ari at my desk and watched as she looked at the drawings and frowned. “I don’t know, Porter. Don’t you think this seems a bit…”
“Yeah. Wack,” I said flatly. “It’s not what I had in mind. It’s definitely not building off the idea we had last week. I feel like I got lost somewhere.”
Ari nodded in agreement. “I didn’t want to say that, but the Serranos are all about sustainability and functionality. I’m loving the front facade we designed last week. But this doesn’t seem…”
“Harmonious,” we said at the same time. I smiled. We had gotten to where we were finishing each other’s sentences. Working together had created our own rhythm. Bumping uglies probably also helped to create an even better rhythm, but I digress.
“We need to think.” When we got stuck on a design issue, this was always my cue for putting on what I called “thinking music.” I thumbed through my office collection of vinyl and put on some Lionel Hampton. The familiar first notes made me sway.
“Stardust?” Ari asked, joining me in her own gentle sway.
“You know it?” I asked, genuinely surprised. I knew Ari loved old school R&B, but I didn’t take her for someone who liked jazz. The laugh lines around her sparkling cocoa eyes crinkled with pleasure, making my heart beat in time with the song. If there wasn’t a risk of being caught, I’d spin her around and dance right in the office.
“Oh yeah. My dad, he loved some jazz. Saturday mornings, he’d play big band music or some soulful vocals. Dinah or Sarah. And after a long week with the gas company, he’d sit back with his scotch in his La-Z-Boy and tap his foot.”
I smiled. “The more you talk about him, the more I wish I could have met him.” I wished my dad could have met Ari, too. He would have loved her. I was sure of it.
“Yeah, he was great,” she said. “With Thanksgiving coming up in about a month, he’s been on my mind a lot. After the football games, Daddy would put on some jazz, sip some bourbon, and relax for the night. The day won’t be the same without him.”
I nodded. “My dad had his Thanksgiving rituals, too. Flag football with us was one of them. I missed that.”
“Our dads were pretty special dudes, huh?” Ari’s eyes dipped into sadness.
I reached out and touched Ari’s hand. “Yeah, they were.”
Just then, the door to my office flew open. We both looked back, and it was Greer. Quickly, I withdrew my hand from Ari’s.
Greer looked at me and then at Ari. “Am I interrupting something? You got the jazz going, Harrison. Are you setting the mood or something?”