Office Affairs

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

I hadn't seen Felipe, nor had any contact with him, in over six months. Nevertheless, I wasn't overly surprised to find him at my doorstep one Sunday morning.

"Hola," he said, a grin spreading across his cheeky face. Hands stuffed into his jeans' pockets, he rocked on his heels, waiting for me to invite him in.

When I stepped to the side, he winked and immediately strolled through the doorway and into my home.

"Wow, this is a shithole," he said, coming to halt in the middle of the room.

I pushed the door shut, followed by the swift kick required to make it close properly, and then leaned against it with my arms folded.

"I can throw you out just as quickly as I let you in," I warned him.

Felipe grinned again. "Now you're inside with me, it looks better already."

Mellowing to his charming ways, I gestured for him to sit down on the sofa and then joined him, curling my legs beneath me.

"So, how've you been?" I asked.

He looked well, sporting a healthy glow to his bronzed skin, but Felipe kept his travels a secret, so he could have spent the last few months in a sweltering prison for all I knew.

"I've been fantastic," he said. "I'd ask the same about you, but I already know."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't like the fact you can check up on me, but I'm not allowed to know where you are."

He shifted on the sofa, picking up a velvet cushion and turning it over in his hands. "It's better this way, Sash; I don't want you dragged into my stuff. This arrangement works fine for both of us, doesn't it?"

Smiling, I nudged him with my knee. "Sorry if you misunderstood. I actually meant I don't like constantly wondering whether you're lurking around a corner, watching me."

His eyes twinkled as he pinned me with a mischievous stare that brought back hundreds of memories from university—all of them good ones.

"Well, I did enjoy the skirt you wore on Wednesday..."

Apparently no longer caring about the state of my flat, he dropped the cushion onto the floor and shuffled closer. His warm palm trailed lazily—yet full of intent—along my inner thigh. Heat burned through the thin fabric of my leggings and gathered between my legs, that familiar tingling anticipation pulsing at my core.

"I didn't wear a skirt on Wednesday," I said.

Felipe's smile widened. "It was worth a shot."

Closing the short space between us, I wound my hand in his thick tresses of dark hair and pulled his mouth to mine. We could spend months apart, but we always fell straight back into the same routine without a moment's hesitation or an ounce of awkwardness.

As our lips clawed at each other in well-practised sync, I climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs, the inside of my knees pressing into his hips. This was fantastic timing. I hadn't had sex in weeks, and my extensive collection of vibrators couldn't replicate the sensation of sweat-slicked muscles beneath my hands or a heavy body pinning me to a mattress.

My clit pulsed at the thought. I rocked against the hard bulge of Felipe's erection, the coarse denim providing a delicious friction that drew a breathy moan from me. Large hands encircled my waist, encouraging my rhythm, until I gave up on kissing and instead chased the hot, aching pressure tugging between my thighs.

"Want some help?" The calm words were pressed against my ear.

It had always amazed me that Felipe could remain so chilled when it came to sex. I completely lacked the discipline, although having a fuck buddy who didn't mind taking his time on a woman had its advantages too.