My truck is hot and stuffy. I smell like dirt and pine. I need coffee.
On my way to the next job, with my trailer loaded with bushes, I swing by the office. Taylor looks up from a pile of papers, her face going from scrunched and mad to happy and relaxed when she sees it’s me. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I kiss her first then beeline for the coffee because it’s free here and I’m so desperate I would mainline this mud into my veins if I could.
“I swear my dad could get an award for being the worst organized person in history. I don’t know how my mother ever decoded his notes or made his appointments with all this madness.”
“Are you using the system I put on the shared drive?”
“Yeah.” She clicks keys on the laptop. “I’ve been trying to add all his invoices and notes so that we have them in your new spreadsheet for future reference too.”
“There’s no point, baby. He’s going to delete that program the instant he’s back. You know he hates technology.”
She scatters other papers around, getting more and more frustrated. “Well, he can suck it up. It’s stupid to live in the dark ages. Everything is run by technology now.”
“Except plants.” I stroll over. “And crystals.” I set my coffee cup on the windowsill and pull her chair back so she can’t reach the laptop again. “Sit on the desk for me.”
“What? Conner, stop.” Scooting herself closer to the desk isn’t going to happen thanks to the death grip I have on her chair.
“Do what you’re told, Taylor.”
“Why am I sitting on the desk?”
“I’m on my lunch break. I want lunch.”
“And what the—” she pauses. Relaxes. “Oh.”
“Oh.” I tip her chair back and kiss her. Then I dump her out of the damn thing when she doesn’t listen. “Get on the desk.”
Today she’s in a long, forest green skirt and a tank top that has little mushrooms all over it.
Sinking to my knees, I raise her legs so her feet can rest them on my shoulders.
“Conner… we can’t.”
“Why not?” I move her panties to the side.
“What if someone sees?”
“They won’t. I locked the door and everyone’s hard at work. No one is coming here, baby.” I drag my tongue across her pussy. “Someone’s wet already.” I lick her again. “Did getting mad at paperwork turn you on?”
“Ugh, shut up.” She bops my head with a stack of invoices. “It’s you.”
“Me?” I suckle her clit, making her squirm. “Go on. What about me?”
She sighs and holds my head between her legs. “You look so good all sweaty and dirty. And that thirst trap you posted this morning has been driving… mmmmph…. Driving me…. Fuuuuck…. Insane.”
I make her come from just my tongue and then sit back in the chair with a juicy wet smile. “Oh yeah?”
“What?” she’s all out of sorts.
Adorable.
“My sweat and dirty hands and thirst traps turn you on.”
“You know they do.” She sits up and sighs. “Wow. I feel better.”
“Mid-day orgasms are way more effective than double espresso mochas. I’ve been trying to tell you this for days.”
