Silva felt herself slip a fraction down the wall once he did, as if she were bearing down, Tate’s arms tightening around her to keep her in place. She had needed to squat on the floor of this very bathroom once before, tensing her muscles and bearing down in much the same way, expelling a piece of a snappedcondom, one he’d not even filled. Between the hot water and the automatic response of her pelvic floor, she would be empty of him before he turned the water off.
She was robbed of the chance to feel him pulsing within her, as she likely would have done flat on her back with her legs over his arms; robbed of the feeling of his heat pouring into her, as she might have on her knees with her ass in the air, the fat sac of his scrotum kissing her skin as he emptied; robbed of the opportunity to drag her fingers through the rivers of his thick, white release as it dripped from her, proof of what they’d done. Not in the shower, with any and all evidence washed away. She’d wanted to scream.
Still, though. The incident had shown that he was vulnerable.Not a magician in the shower!It had become her favorite part of their morning routine, and although she had not been able to replicate the events, every day she woke at his side brought a fresh opportunity.
She would follow him to the kitchen once he was dressed, flicking on his electric tea kettle as he put out chopped chicken and kibble for the feral cats he fed, sipping her tea and leaning against him at the kitchen counter. He would kiss her on his way out the door, and she would go back to bed, curling up in his empty spot, breathing in the familiar smell of him as she slept for another hour or two. Silent, secret, and sacred.
The rest of her days outside the environment of the office were just as enjoyable. She loved the comfortable little desk nook he'd made for her in his apartment, and she would finish her meager work for the day quickly. Unlike the days when she was forced onto campus, the rest of her time in Greenbridge Glen could be spent reading, browsing the little downtown shops, blessedly quiet in the off-season, or else seeking him out, learning more about the way his businesses were run and doing what she could to help without being a hindrance.
The distractions at the office were far less pleasant. Boorish executives who stared at her breasts in the elevators, the supervisors who overlooked her, the rude security guard in the parking lot. Co-workers she barely knew, whose presence she didn’t miss.
And then, of course, there was Tannar.
It had only been a few weeks since she’d been coming back into the office, and already he had exhausted her reserve of goodwill.
When he entered the break room a few moments later with Edzin, Silva schooled her features into an impassive mask of serenity.Just think. If they had built the campus just a little closer to downtown, half these people would be ordering to-go from the coffee shop and you'd never need to see them at all.
Although as ever present as he’d been from the day he’d started in their office, Tannar now seemed subdued around her, quieter, a sharp departure from his previous overt flirtations. Silva wondered what tales were being told about her at the club, the gossip he must've been privy to since joining, but she pushed the thought away.Who cares? None of that matters.
"So, this one has fabric and color swatches, design sketches, and sample floral arrangements. There’s a glossary of flowers, including what’s in season when, just in case you want to pick things individually. This also has photos of up-lighting and table linens with a few swatches . . .”
“This is already overwhelming,” Lurielle mumbled.
“I’m not going to bother with any of the other books I have. They're all Elvish, so . . . Really, if you want us to do the planning, Lurielle, we can. You and Khash just need to work out size and budget. Ris and I can do the rest. Oh, sugar . . . I left my other notebook at my desk. It has all the numbers in it for the local florists and caterers; you'll need that."
“See? I told you she’d make this look easy.”
Silva pushed the wedding binder across the table to Lurielle, rising from her chair, laughing at Ris. Tannar was hovering as usual, waiting in the briskly moving line at the coffee machine, shooting puppy dog eyes at her every few minutes.Hopefully he'll be gone by the time you come back.
"I’m going to run and grab it. I'll be right back, okay? Start looking at some of the color options!” she encouraged, pushing her chair in and breezing out of the room behind the group who’d come in for coffee with a purposeful bounce, not sparing a glance back.
His voice rang out immediately, talking from the line, not even waiting for her to clear the doorway.
"So. . . she's seeing someone? That's what I gathered from social media."
Silva paused in the corridor, just on the other side of the break room door, listening as Tannar addressed her friends.
"Yeah, she is. Has been for a whi-ile." Lurielle's voice was a patronizing singsong, so out-of-character that Silva nearly gasped. “Why are you stalking her on social media is a better question.”
“I’m notstalkingher,” Tannar answered hotly, also completely out-of-character for the normally benign and slightly boring elf. “We follow each other. I can’t help that I see her posts. It’s not like she’s keeping them private. Who is this guy? Some of her friends said . . . Is she living with him? Is that where she is all week now? She doesn’t come to anything at the club at all.”
“Who are you talking about?” she heard Edzin ask, sounding lost. “The prissy princess?”
“Tannar, I can’t even begin to tell you how wrong you are if you thought it was a good idea to pump someone from HR for personal info about a co-worker.”
Unlike Lurielle, Ris sounded exactly the way she always did — firm, friendly, and slightly irritated.Good. He needs to let go of this crush. I'm not available.
“Oh, please.” Tannar was unfazed by Ris’s words. “Because this place is a paragon of professionalism. Seriously, though. I’m worried about her. I heard she’s not even speaking to her mother! Is this guy worth it? Are they serious?"
Silva waited, feeling the earth rock beneath her feet as she did so.Yes. Yes, he’s worth it. Yes, they’re serious. Yes, they’re in love.She swayed in place, waiting for one of her friends to give voice to an enthusiasticyes, confirmation outside of herself that she and Tate were as solid and steady to others as they felt to her in that secret, sacred bubble. She waited . . . but neither of them did.
Because it’s inappropriate. Ris just said so. They’re not going to tell him anything at all, other than to take a hint. But then again, Lurielle hadn’t hesitated to confirm that Silva was seeing someone . . .
Seeing someone.It sounded so impersonal, so transient. So entirely temporary. It was not at all a good enough descriptor for the two of them.He called me his heartbeat.
"Is he . . .” Tannar’s voice trailed off, and she held her breath, waiting, hearing his resigned grunt. “Does he treat her well? Can you at least tell me that?"
It was Ris who answered, breaking the terrible silence from her and Lurielle at last.So much for HR professionalism.
