To me.
To all the others.
An infestation removed from the earth.
Only I can’t.
My body won’t let me.
Lilian stares at me as she whispers, “You’re here.”
So, she knows about my apartment and might suspect me at this point.
I should leave.
Or finally do it.
“I am,” I say instead and walk to her.
My rucksack drops onto the floor as I step around her desk and sit on it. She leans back in her chair, but I don’t let her.
I grasp her face with one hand and pull her into a kiss, with tongue.
The moment our lips meet, nothing is real anymore. Whoever we are, whatever will happen, I don’t care.
Lilian melts into my touch just as much as I become one with her. It doesn’t matter that an entire office can see us violate Clause four point one of a contract no one knows about through the glass doors around us.
My longing for her purrs through my chest down into my core. I want to pull her close, have her sit on my lap again, see her come.
She would most certainly murder me if I so much as tried it here. I wouldn’t care, though. I like an audience, but Lilian? Protected and private, Miss Perfect. I like teasing her, but I also recognize hard boundaries.
I bring the kiss to an end, even if I don’t want to. I have to find out what she knows and suspects about me. The loss of touch brings Lilian back to her senses, and she distances herself.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I ask her. “You seem stressed.”
“Never you mind,” she snaps at me.
“You know, I am, per contract, an excellent listener with no ability to talk about anything you tell me,” I say with a silent chuckle.
She snorts out.
“Don’t tell me you have been worried about me?” I ask to tease her just enough to get something from her, and it works perfectly.
“Don’t make yourself more important than you are,” she says coldly.
“What was it you whispered when you saw me? ‘You’re here’, that’s right. Sounds like you cared.”
Anger burns through her eyes before she snaps. I am amazed every time how anger makes people spill all that’s going on in their minds.
“Is that what you want ot hear? That I care about you? That I was worried? Please, choke on it. Everything is a mess, my business, I am under infinite pressure, and you have nothing better to do than make everything about you.”
“I make you angry,” I say. “You care.”
She groans out in disbelief, jumps up from her chair, and turns her back to me as she stares outside the massive window front.
“Running from something is never a good idea,” I say before Ican stop myself. I should give that advice to myself, but it’s so fun to tease her, push her.
“Sounds like you know,” she says without looking at me.
