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Here’s a little short piece considering the ‘What if’ I missed out on last Easter. Do tell me what you think – vote or write – either way I hope you like this! ~A
“Have a nice night!” I wasn’t really paying attention as I bid farewell to the ladies walking past me.
“Night, Marie,” one called. “See you tomorrow,” another said with a smile. I just nodded, finishing the sentence I was writing.
“Still writing?” I looked up to smile at Bryce, who was leaning against the right side of the semicircular receptionist’s desk.
“Of course,” I replied. “I don’t have much else to do.” I wish I could admit to something fun, or at least having plans… of course not. My life is boring. I have a boring job, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“I’ve noticed that,” he commented with that wink of his, the one that always makes me blush. “Got plans for this weekend? Easter, perhaps?”
I shook my head with a sigh. “Nope. My family and I will probably go eat out at a nice restaurant on Sunday. That’s about it.” He laughed at the face I made. “Hey!”
“Sorry. You should come out with some of us tomorrow night after work. What time do you get done here?” His gaze raked the messy desk that I was sitting at. “You’re usually still here when I leave.”
“Not on Fridays. 5:30 most days, but 5 o’ clock on Fridays. I… um…” How do you tell someone you’re not 21 when they’ve clearly assumed it already? “I would, I’m just not 21 yet.”
I could see the shift in his eyes as he tried not to react. “Really? You certainly act it. If you don’t mind my asking, how old *are* you?”
Ack. Here comes the part where he walks away and I can’t fantacize about him anymore. “I’ll be nineteen in two months.”
Instead of the poorly hidden disapproval I’d expected, his eyes jumped instead, and he didn’t even try to hide the reaction. “Still 18, hmm?” he said too casually. “Well, I’ll ask the others where we were going to go… if we just go out for dinner you’re more than welcome to join us.”
Something bothered me about the way he said ‘more than welcome’, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I just returned his ‘Goodnight’ and stared after him for a few minutes. He was just inviting me out with some of the people that worked here, I shouldn’t be excited, right?
But on the other hand, I would’ve expected the invitation to come from Stacy or Caitie before ever from Bryce. Was he still interested in me? His eyes certainly still were.
C’mon, I chided myself, what possible interest could a 28-yr-old guy have in an 18-yr-old girl? This is insane. I shouldn’t be going out with people from this office, I should go home and sleep same as I always do. But would they be insulted? No, of course not. I’d just told him I was 18, he’d understand if I were a little skittish about going out with a group of people easily ten years older than I.
Sure of myself, I wrapped up the office for the night, turned out the lights as usual. The next morning I went through the whole bus/subway fiasco again, and the day went the same as always. I didn’t look up as much as I usually do, so I didn’t see if Bryce winked at me the same as always.
Come 5 o’ clock, I was trying to get myself ready to turn down the offer he’d made me the day before. I heard him coming down the hallway and turned to say I wouldn’t go… but he was there with Stacy (as I’d expected) and she immediately turned to me with a wide smile. “Marie, I’m so glad you’re coming with us! We’ve just been talking, and we were going out to dinner anyway, so it’s not something you need an ID for.” Her grin was as wide as Bryce’s, and I had a feeling he’d recruited her help.
I smiled, trying to get the words out. “I’m sorry, I can’t come. I’ve got to be getting home…”
Bryce cut me off. “Come now, it’s only five o’ clock. I promise we won’t keep you out late. It’s Friday night, Marie!”
As if I didn’t know that. But what was I supposed to say? I felt very much peer pressured as the two of them swept me off down the elevator and to the parking lot across the street. I felt a bit uncomfortable when Stacy pushed me to the front seat to sit with Bryce, but again, what was I supposed to do, complain? She’d only say it was fair since I had longer legs or something.
Bryce drove us to a grill in East Boston I’d never heard of. When we got there, I looked around, then was about ready to glare at Stacy. “Is it just us?” I asked, trying not to sound annoyed at the whole situation.
“This week, yeah,” she replied, so casually I knew it was arranged. But I couldn’t complain, I *wanted* Bryce’s attention! Grrr…
We went into the restaurant and sat down, it was a nice menu of American food, but higher-class than the hamburgers and french fries of the fast food world. We were just about to order when Stacy’s cell phone rang. She excused herself with a grimace. “Stacy Murphy,” she answered. Must be a work cell phone. “Oh, illegal bahis yes, hello.” If she got up and left, I’d be about ready to scream. “Alright, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” She hung up and made a face at both of us. “I’ve gotta run back to work. Sorry!”
I was about to comment when I realized Bryce was as legitimately surprised as I was. This wasn’t something he’d planned. “Well…” he began slowly. “I guess we’ll see you on Monday, Stacy.”
As Stacy left, I had to wonder if this was something she’d planned herself, or actually a coincidence. Either way, it didn’t matter. I smiled ruefully at Bryce as we ordered our meal, not saying anything about the uncomfortable situation while the waiter was at the table.
Bryce answered for us when the waiter asked if Stacy was coming back, and then his eyes went to mine and held them until the waiter was out of earshot. “Are… you still okay with this?” he asked quietly.
It was reassuring to know that he was as ill-prepared for this as I was. “It’s just dinner,” I replied carefully. “And maybe she’ll come back once she’s taken care of… whatever-it-was.” Fat chance, I thought to myself, and I could see that opinion mirrored in his eyes.
The waiter returned with our drinks, both sodas (possibly Bryce just being nice considering I couldn’t drink), and again we waited until he’d left before either of us spoke. “What’s a beautiful young woman like yourself doing stuck behind the front desk at Mentor?” he asked at last.
I was surprised for the half a second before I blushed. “I’m taking a semester off from school, and I need the money,” I replied, hoping that was enough of an answer. “Downtown Boston is easy to reach without a car.”
He sipped his soda, seeming to think this through. “And a car won’t get you far in downtown Boston either, nowhere to park.”
I just nodded, looking away from him as I sipped my soda. “Just dinner” or not, I wasn’t particularly comfortable. “If you don’t mind my asking, how old are you, Bryce?” I asked, trying not to sound intensely desperate for the answer.
He grinned (I think he was amused that I wanted to know). “I’ll be 29 in three weeks. May 3rd.” Good God, he was eleven years older than me…
No, I told myself, he’s a little over ten years older than me. At least he wasn’t more than decade older… I looked up to see his eyes on me. “What’re you thinking?” he asked quietly.
I didn’t meet his eyes, but looked at my straw instead. “Just that I’m feeling rather young to be working with you.” I should have substituted the word ‘flirting’ in there as a far more accurate verb, but I think he got the idea.
“Don’t.” I couldn’t help but look up to meet his eyes, and I knew I looked questioning. He chose to answer the question. “You certainly carry yourself far better than the 18-year-olds I know, and I don’t see what difference age really makes. You’re certainly mature enough for the job…” When I saw his cheeks flush I realized he was looking down my shirt, and I quickly sat up straighter. I liked this sweater, but now was not the time to be showing him that!
And then I realized what he meant by ‘mature’, and I blushed too. “The whole point of the job is to sit there, look pretty, and smile,” I said, trying to turn the subject away from him watching me. “Actually, what do you do, Bryce? I never thought to ask.”
“Finance,” he replied calmly, and I couldn’t tell if his eyes were on my face or not. “Nothing particularly interesting, but I’ve found I’m good at it.”
“But is the job worth it if it’s boring?” I asked without thinking.
“Of course. I have plenty to interest me at work.” God damn I’m such a fool. I walked straight into that one.
I mentally kicked myself several times as the waiter brought our meals; salmon for him and a filet mignon for me. “Refills?”
As the waiter left Bryce commented, “You’re turning red, Marie,” which of course made me blush more.
“You’re flirting with me,” I countered, but he didn’t blush, he grinned. “I’m amazed you’re interested at all,” I admitted next. “I’m ten years younger than you!”
Again, as I had yesterday when I admitted my age, I saw his eyes jump with what I could only term eagerness. “Age isn’t everything,” he told me quietly. “You happen to have a gorgeous smile. Don’t blush,” he told me, smiling. “It’s not a compliment, it’s a fact.”
I don’t know how he expected me to do anything other than blush. “I’m not sure I agree with you,” I told him.
“You should. You don’t see it as often as I do.” Well, that was certainly true. I always smiled when I saw him. “Come now, enough blushing and smile! Or should I really stop?”
He seemed so upset by the idea, that I had to smile. “No, don’t stop,” I told him slowly. “It’s just been awhile since I’ve had anyone around to flirt with,” I admitted very quietly.
“Well THAT needs to change,” he replied, with such emotion trapped illegal bahis siteleri behind his eyes that my heart flipped over. “It has changed. And don’t you forget it!”
I could laugh with him now, as I was getting into the idea of flirting with my gorgeous coworker. “I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.” I was noticing that we’d started playing footsie under the table. “Well,” I said, ready for a change of subject, “Tell me something about yourself, Bryce. You know I’m out of college for the semester. I don’t know a heck of a lot about you.” With a flirty smile I picked up my fork and knife, cutting into my rapidly cooling filet mignon.
Bryce tried to be a gentleman and pay for dinner, but I wouldn’t let him. “You could drive me home, instead,” I offered when he kept complaining.
This he accepted eagerly, even though the traffic was horrible at this point. I guess it gave us time to “talk” – chat about nothing important while oggling each other. I certainly caught him at it. Finally I had to say something. “Bryce, keep your eyes on the road! Nothing’s changed since last time you looked!”
He did blush at last, but since traffic was pretty much at a standstill, he didn’t need to pay the road much attention. His blush faded slowly, but the grin remained. “I can’t help it!” he said at last, bursting into the silence. “That sweater is so damn tempting!”
I looked down at my tank top, which I wouldn’t have expected to be tempting at all, trying to figure out what he meant. But as I considered, I realized that the arm-holes were cut loose enough to reveal a bit of pale white breast, and the green cloth wasn’t thin enough to disguise my erect nipples. I looked over, going to tease, when I realized his knuckles were white, he was gripping the steering wheel so hard. Teasing him at this point would be mean. Then a thought occurred to me, making me shiver. Teasing him would be insulting his valiant efforts to stay calm. Tempting him, however… “This sweater?” I asked innocently, pulling at the strap closer to him and ‘accidentally’ flashing him a half-moon of my breast, not quite enough to reveal a nipple.
I’m glad we were already stopped, he stamped on the brake pedal so hard. “Marie!” He seemed to think I had done it innocently.
“What?” I asked, blinking in assumed naivete. Still holding my tank top away from my chest. “Bryce?” He couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t looking. His hands were glued to the wheel, his eyes were glued to my chest, hoping for a glimpse of just a bit more…
I gave it to him. As I pulled gently outward on my shirt before releasing it, I saw Bryce’s hand move to his lap, vainly trying to hide the growing bulge in his jeans. I let my shirt settle back into place, watching him. He glanced up, saw me watching, finally realized I was doing it on purpose, and groaned. “If we didn’t work together…”
I’m not sure if it was a threat or a wish. I hoped it was a wish. “We don’t,” I told him quietly. “I do temp work for O’Toole and Sullivan. I just happen to be in the same building…”
His eyes almost rolled back in his head. I saw his hand jerk slightly; I think he was trying to stroke himself and restrain the urge at the same time. This is where whatever morals I have should’ve stopped me.
I turned slightly in the seat, facing him just a bit so the car beside us didn’t see me. “You alright?” I asked tenderly, reaching to lap my hand on his thigh.
My touch made his whole body jump. He made a sound like I’d hit him – I think it was a muffled groan. “God, Marie… you’re eighteen!”
It was too late for that excuse. “That’s what I said earlier,” I reminded him. What had he said when I had complained? “Come now, smile! Or should I really stop?”
He groaned again. “Evil woman…” Just then the traffic started crawling again, so I pulled back to my own seat, not wanting to distract him into crashing the car.
I didn’t have much time to distract him for the rest of the trip, since traffic was slow, but not stopped. I directed him to my exit, then had a thought as we made a turn. “Pull over…” I whispered.
“Unless you want to drop me at my parents’ house and not see me until we’re at work on Monday, pull over!”
The car jumped to the side of the road. “You live with your parents?” His disappointment was obvious.
“I’m still in college, Bryce.” I turned to face him, putting my hand back on his thigh. I looked straight at him, asking bluntly, “If you’re going to be as uncomfortable as I on Monday pretending nothing’s happened, please tell me.”
His eyes widened. “Are you insane? Of course I am! Or haven’t you noticed how much trouble I’m having right now?!”
I couldn’t help it. Without my decision, my hand moved to his lap, finding a throbbing that matched the blood pounding in my ears. “Kiss me, Bryce…” I begged, something it was clear to both of us he wouldn’t ignore. I unbuckled canlı bahis siteleri my seatbelt clumsily with one hand, then leaned towards him and rubbed the lump in his pants at the same time.
His hands grabbed my cheeks, pulling me to his kiss, then his hands dropped to my chest, finally doing what he’d been dreaming about. I found myself moaning, my hands speeding up in his lap. Once my lips had parted slightly his tongue invaded my mouth.
When we were forced to pause for breath, I looked down so I could hastily unzip his pants. As the restriction on his trembling cock was released, Bryce groaned. “Marie… we can’t…”
My hands didn’t want to stop when I told them to. “Please…” I begged. “I’ve been dreaming about you all week…” My forefinger traced along his boxers making us both tremble.
“You’re about to go home to your PARENTS,” he said through gritted teeth. I don’t know how he managed to control himself. I couldn’t, and he had barely touched me!
I moaned, but I did pull back. “Once I get home there’s no way I can get any release,” I complained. “Please, Bryce,” I begged him. “I’m about ready to explode at this point…”
He leaned closer to kiss me, and then kissed a line down my neck, making me squirm. “There’s nothing I can do…” One hand rose to caress my breast.
I grabbed his hand, stopped him. “You’re driving me crazy.” I told him, though he didn’t stop nuzzling my neck. The thought took too long to blossom. I released his hand, which immediately restarted its caressing, and both my hands dropped to my waistband.
I don’t think he noticed when I popped the button or unzipped my fly. He did notice me grabbing his hand and leading it to the bare skin at my stomach. He hummed into my ear, clearly pleased, and his hand roved up under my shirt. When I gasped at his touch he drew back to smile… and noticed my jeans. “Marie…”
I’m not sure if he meant it as a warning, a complaint, or what. Even if he wanted to end this and drive me home, his hands had other ideas. And I certainly wasn’t helping any. I slouched giving his hand easier access, then moved his hand into my pants when he hesitated.
His cool fingers ran gentle fingertips down my skin, finding no hair to block his progress. I think his fast inhale was shock at finding the top of my slit without feeling the hair. I grinned when he shot me a shocked expression, but my grin became a wince and a gasp as he slid his hand lower and his fingers slipped between my pussy lips.
I heard what I took to be an amused noise from Bryce, but I wasn’t paying too close attention since he rubbed his whole hand up and down, making me twitch. “Ohhh… gaawwd…” I moaned, and head a laugh. But before either of us could say anything, my pocket started vibrating. I jumped, yanking out my cellphone. “Hello?”
“Marie, where are you?”
“On my way home, ma. I went to dinner with some people from work, and we got stuck in traffic,” I explained, throwing a grateful look at Bryce, who had the presence of mind to take his hand out of my pants. “Yeah, I’m almost home. Be right there. Bye.” I closed the phone and stuffed it back into my pocket. Bryce started driving again, and I groaned. “I want you, Bryce,” I whispered, and since his eyes were on the road, I slid my hand into my pants, desperate for release no matter what it took.
“I know,” he returned after a moment of silence. He must have glanced over at me because the car swerved and then came to a stop at the side of the road. “What are you doing?” he asked, eyes fixed on the spot where my hand disappeared into my pants.
I knew he was watching, but I just couldn’t stop. “I told you… I can’t… get release… at home…” I gasped, two fingers in my pussy as I frantically rubbed my clit.
With my eyes closed, I didn’t know what he was doing, since there was silence. But then I felt his lips on my neck, making me tremble. When his hand touched the skin at my waist, I nearly shrieked, but his quiet voice in my ear reassured me. “Let me,” he whispered, voice hoarse with caged lust. “If I can’t have you, at least I can help…”
I moaned and withdrew my hand, letting his hand slide lower. From where he was, he couldn’t do more than gently rub my clit, so after I’d gotten over the shock of having his fingers in my pants, I hooked my thumbs in at my waistband and pushed.
I heard his rattling intake of breath as I pushed all my clothing to my knees, then my ankles, spreading my legs for him. He now had a view of what he was doing – his hand sped up.
I started twitching, and he slid two fingers lower and into me. I moaned and pressed against his hand, inspiring him to add a third finger. I humped his hand as his fingers pounded into me, clearly wishing that it wasn’t just his fingers.
I was wishing the same thing, but his eager fingers were enough to drive me over the edge. I caught at his hand, fingers biting into his flesh as I bit my lip, trying not to moan. “Ohh gawd, yesssss…” I sighed after a moment, easing my deathgrip on his arm. “You’re awesome,” I told him, turning to press my lips to his. “I’d return the favor, but that will have to wait until Monday.”
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