I look up to find Apollo’s eyes pinned on me. He’s standing over with the managers and…
There’s hurt in his eyes, just for a moment, just long enough that I think that maybe I really see it and then it’s gone and I think maybe I was just imagining it.
But no matter what I was or was not imagining, this gulf between us?
I’m not imagining that.
A manager—I think he’s a part of the photography department? I’m not sure—steps forward and claps his hands together to get everyone’s attention. Everyone is so tense, it’s like setting off fireworks; he has everyone’s total attention instantly. “Let’s get to work,” he says in a no-nonsense tone of voice. “We’ve all got shit to do.”
With a grumble, the crowds disperse and everyone heads to their desks. I want info as much as anyone else, so I’ll admit it, my voice is added to the chorus. Fuck ‘em. They need to be upfront with us.
Even Apollo.
I push the thought away. I do have shit to do, and it’s about time I do it.
It’s afternoon and I’m drearily working my way through my third article on lipstick colors in the past two months—sometimes, even I get sick of talking about how to pick out lipstick—when Natalie pops her head over my cubicle divider. “Ready for a break?” she asks.
I spring up so quickly, my heel catches and I crash to the ground, my chair spinning away and crashing into Fredrick. Just what he needs—encouragement. I awkwardly pull myself to my feet, Natalie absolutely no help to me whatsoever as she laughs so hard, she’s doubled over, and retrieve my chair, giving Fredrick a brief grimace as an apology as I go.
“Coffee?” Natalie says perkily. I glare. She grins.
I grin.
I can’t help myself.
“Alright,” I grumble, trying to hide my grin but it doesn’t do me any good. Natalie sees it.
We head down to the staff break room, when I see Apollo head toward me. Well, not toward me, per se, just down the hallway that I’m in, heading the opposite direction as me. He’s probably not heading right at me, right?
I try to quell my internal blathering and instead shoot Natalie an oversized smile. “So how’s your article on skirt lengths going?” I ask with way too much enthusiasm. She doesn’t even attempt to hide the roll of her eyes but she answers my banal question anyway as Apollo passes me so closely, I can smell his cologne and despite myself, I inhale deeply, even as I’m staring straight at Natalie. My skin is crackling with sexual energy and I can’t breathe but I don’t care. I'm not looking at Apollo.
Not.
Looking.
He’s finally passed me and I can breathe normally again. Natalie, god bless her soul, continues her blathering until we make it to the staff break room, and then shuts the door behind us.
“Tell me all. Now,” she demands. “If I have to wait one more minute to hear what happened, I just might explode.”
As she starts the coffee pot with our special blend of shade-grown, organic coffee that we hide in the back of the freezer, away from the editorial department’s prying eyes, I wander around the break room, picking up old copies of Blush and putting them back down again without seeing any of it.
“Sex,” I finally blurt out. “Lots and lots and lots and oh god amazing sex. Never, in the history of sex, has anyone had better sex than the sex I had last night.”
Natalie shoves my favorite mug into my hand, filled with dark, rich coffee, and demands, “More. Tell me more. Tell me all. Speak, oh sex goddess of Manhattan. I need something to imagine while fucking myself with my dildo tonight.” At my look, she shrugs. “What? You know I do it. You know you do it. It’s human nature, girlfriend.”
True dat.
So I tell her all the gory deets. I mean, all of them. No, I don’t hold back even on that part. What are best friends for, if not to brag about the absolute best night of sex known to humanity? As I’m telling her, I begin squirming with excitement, my panties growing wetter by the moment. God, I really want to replay that scene in the hallway with Apollo, except this time, I tackle him to the ground and fuck him right there.
Okay, maybe drag him into a broom closet and fuck him there. I don’t want all the girls to know how big his dick is or I’ll have to start using the brooms to beat them all off.
His dick is mine. And his tongue. And his pecs. And his glorious thighs.
But most especially his dick.
Finally, I can’t think of another amazeballs detail to add, and my coffee has grown cold and I don’t even care because I’m high on sex and fucking and Apollo’s magic 12-inch cock and so I dump it down the drain and we head back to our cubicles. Natalie’s telling me in great detail about everything that she was going to have to do with a cucumber that night when we realize that the open work area is quiet.