The Office

The Shower

She knows her boss loves control and he will show her just how much.

Eric again holds open the door on my side and even goes so far as to extent his hand to help me get out of his car. My hand stays in his, fingers interwining and I am not sure he is aware that he holds onto mine with a strong grasp. He opens the door, hand going to the small of my back and turns on some lights. It is warm and soft, not blinding. The air smells of pine and wood, is laced with a homey feeling and comfortable heat. He pulls me to his living room, pushes me down gently into the soft cushions of his couch, but he stays in front of me.

“What...” I am interrupted by his lips on mine, my face captured in his big hands and pulled upwards, his fingertips softly caressing the skin under my eyes and my jaw. When he pulls back he brushes his cheek against mine and I sigh softly against his neck.

“I have to finish some more paperwork and pack my bag for tomorrow.” He says, his voice only a whisper as if he doesn't want to interrupt the relaxed atmosphere around us.

“Do you need help with anything?” I ask, always the good secretary, always looking out for him, to help him where ever I can. Maybe my upbringing in Abnegation stayed unconsciously with me. He pushes himself back up, his tall body in front of me and a small part of me is aware that I just need to reach out to touch him, make him groan again and enjoy the affection I feel for being the reason he lets go of his stress.

“No. Make yourself at home. I order something to eat. Chinese?” He looks down to me, meeting my eyes with a serious expression on his face and there is something in his orbs I can't place.

“Chinese sounds perfect.” I whisper back, small smile on my lips. I hum softly when his hand caresses my cheek for the last time, closing my eyes at the gentle contact.

“It won't take long.. maybe an hour. If you need anything, I will be back there.” I open my eyes, nod slowly, he presses a kiss to my neck and pulls away, going probably to his office.

Leaning back against the soft cushion, I feel my body relax even more, but my mind is in overdrive after he left. Its fascinating how he can switch off my thoughts so easily but maybe not as surprising. He has a certain way to focus my thoughts on other matters, on physical matters and I seem to have the same effect on him. I stand up slowly, stretching my arms and legs a bit and go over to his book shelve to browse his collection and maybe discover something I don't already know about him.

I am not really amazed that he has so many books on different subjects. His parents are both scientists at the MIT, his mother a professor for biology, trying to decode our DNA, his father a neurobiologist working for the government on a project concerning certain stimulants and their effect on the human brain and nerve system. I know all this because he asked me once to help him buy a present for their 30th wedding anniversary because he himself hadn't the time to do so. Maybe he was also aware that I wouldn't say no to whatever he wanted me to do because I am good at my job as a secretary.

To find a fitting gift I needed some information and he told me – what he thought – were all the necessary things there are to know about his parents. I just shook my head at him, not explaining to him that their vita won't help me pick something out that they really need or wish for. So I just bought them a weekend trip to a nice biosphere – a generous gift but not expensive enough to spend the money he planned to spend – and he looked at me approvingly, telling me randomly five weeks later that his parents enjoyed the nature and weather very much. He said also told me in an aloof way that they thanked the woman who helped him come up with the idea and to keep her around.

My fingers glide along the shelves and I sometimes stand on my tiptoes to see the titles that are to far up to see with my short body. I guess, with his background it seems quite natural that he himself has an interest for many things. I try to imagine what his childhood was like. If his parents dragged him from one exhibition to the next, if he had to learn an instrument because it increases the brain's abilities to think logical and helps with coordination and memorizing, if he had to take extra courses throughout his school years and if he even had a real childhood. If he was forced into becoming quite knowledgeable on all of these subjects or if he was really interested.

Knowing him the way I do, his working attitude and the way he likes to be aware of everything going on in Dauntless I guess it was a bit of both. Maybe his parents showed him a direction, encouraged him to ask and read and he took the hint and decided he wanted to have a wide range of information and profound knowledge on almost everything.

I continue to browse his books and apart from obvious scientific ones about biology, chemistry and psychology I also find copies of the old classic and barrock romans from Goethe, Schiller and Immanuel Kant. Next to them are leather-bound books of the great philosophers old and new, John Stuart Mill, Schopenhauer, Aristoteles among them. I smile slightly when I see books on self-defense on a shelve at the bottom, next to cook books for vegetarian dishes.

I turn around then, my curiosity satisfied and look in the direction he disappeared to. Slowly I make my way over to the door that is ajar a bit and hear the rhythmic sound of fingers pressing buttons on a keyboard. With one hand on the frame I push the door open a bit more and look over to my boss, his suite jacket hung up over the back of his chair. His face is serious, his eyes slightly narrowed in concentration.

It really should be a disturbing picture a man like him sitting behind a computer, writing reports, working on presentations, reviewing shift schedules and checking the calculations for the next quarter of the year. But it isn't. Maybe if I wouldn't work with him daily, hadn't known him for two years, a smile for all the wrong reasons would be present on my face. But it isn't. Because though he looks like a soldier, big muscles and tall frame, he also speaks like a commander, holds himself like a fighter and is aware of some many things on a level most people will never reach. I feel my heart flutter and bite my lip, the feelings I tried to hide from him bubbling inside of me.

I want to think that our sexual encounters from earlier are a sure sign that he feels something as well, maybe even loves me the way I love him. That the way he kissed me shows that some part of him relishes in the contact of our lips as much as my whole being does. That something more then my absolutely willing body appeals to him, that he finds something inside of me that he can feel drawn to. That I am not just a distraction or attractive because I am his secretary and it fulfills a cliche most men are drawn to. That I am more...anything to him.

But I am far too realistic and not naive enough to equal lust and sex with love. I know that you can exchange sexual favors without feeling anything then maybe friendship or attraction. I know that some of my friends are high on the adventures a randomly picked up person means, that they boast about their conquers among themselves, earning proud claps on the back and knowing laughs. And I also know that sex without responsibilities afterwards is a common thing among people my age and Eric's. So it wouldn't be too strange for him or me to engage in it.

The only thing strange about it is, that he engaged in it with me. His secretary of all people. Maybe Eric knows about my feelings for him. Many people are aware of it even though I tried to hide it and because he is the man he is, he could have recognized it pretty early in my employment. And maybe he saw his chance to take off an edge. Or he was on edge enough to forget his working ethics and made a move on me because he knew how willing I would be to receive his attention. This attention.

I don't think he used me though. Not in the normal way someone says it when he or she discovers the sheets are cold on the other side of the bed after a shared night. If he had planned to make this a one time thing, I don't think he would have taken me back to his house. He wouldn't have taken his time to repeat anything that happened in his office. And I tell myself he wouldn't have kissed me in this sensual way.

But maybe I am wrong or maybe I am right. I won't know until I can find the strength within me to deny him and make clear that I want to know what this is between us. I won't know anything for sure until I ask. Until then I say myself I will relish in his presence and attention, in his touches and the lust he evokes in me, in the way he makes my toe curl and surprises me with passion or gentleness. And maybe I don't have to ask because his actions and mine will do the talking for us.

My mind made up and finding my way back to the present, out of my thoughts, I want to turn away from him to go back to the couch, but before I can, he looks up. His gray eyes travel along my body and the way he observes me with this awareness and fierceness in them let goosebumps appear on my skin and my abdomen tightens. I smile slightly when his eyes meet mine, cheeks coloring lightly because he discovered me staring.

“Do you need anything?” He asks, voice casual and distant, leaning back in his chair slightly. I feel like we are back in the company and I have to disturb him because I want him to sign some papers that need to be send off. I bite my lip for a moment, tensing a bit because it suddenly feels uncomfortable between us, these roles we play, our actual positions. And then I am painfully aware again that he is my boss. That this job as his secretary pays my bills. That I maybe destroyed my career because I didn't say stop, because I gave in to his invitation. But it didn't start there, I remind myself because I now could easily say it as his fault that I feel like this. No, it is mine for falling for him right from the start. I shake my head no.

“What is it?” He asks and I look up to him. He frowns slightly, maybe picks up my sudden mood-swing and I curse myself for not shutting my thoughts up beforehand.

“Its nothing.” I answer, forcing my voice to sound casual, putting on a relaxed masked over my probably sad face. He stares me down and I suppress the sudden chuckle because he should know by now that I am not affected by him like this.

“Tris...” He says and I bite my lip slowly. Maybe I just need a few more minutes by myself to come up with something that will put my worries and heavy heart to rest. Maybe some more moments to myself will help me to enjoy my time with him instead of coming up with all the painful ways this could end. I speak up then, an idea entering my mind.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you if it is ok if I take a shower.” I say, my hand going to my hair to brush some strands behind my ear. He nods and stands up from his chair, coming over to me. His hand goes to my waist, his thumb caressing it and I meet his searching eyes. He seems to be unsure for a moment, a notion I am surprised he is even able to feel, not to speak about show, but it is gone in the next second and maybe I have imagined it.

“Sure, follow me.” Eric finally says, taking one of my hands in his and pulls me up some stairs to the room at the end of the corridor. He pushes open the door to reveal a big four-poster bed, the thick pillows and blanket covered in black sheets.

“I get you some towels and call you when the food arrives.” He says and I just nod, taking in the luxury of his bathroom, gray tiling, huge tub, shower with glass doors, big mirror over the sink.

I wait uncertainly for him to move, looking up to his face with a light frown when he doesn't. His face is serious again and thoughtful. He leans down and I meet him halfway to accept his small kiss. But instead of the small peck I expected he kisses me hard, biting my lip and easing the pain with his hot tongue afterwards. I struggle a moment, his sudden passion and dominance throwing me off balance. After a few seconds I find myself responding easily though, press my body against his, my hands going up to his neck, scratching his skin because it just feels right to reciprocate his painful grip on my waist. His chest rumbles beneath me, his hands suddenly grabbing the backside of my thighs to pull me up against him and on autopilot, my depressing thoughts forgotten, I sling my legs around his waist, holding on to him tightly. I feel him move us unconsciously and my back hits the wall in the next second, the sudden coldness and his pelvis grinding against my core making me gasp.

I wind my arms around him tightly, pulling him to me more, my heart beating fast and I just need to feel him inside me, perplexed and confused to find this insatiable side of me. But I don't concentrate on it, instead let one of my hands wander down to reach the fly of his pants somehow. Before I can though, he captures my hand in his, pushes it against the wall behind me and I think he wants to keep the control, already more then willing to give it to him again. Instead of making a move to start undressing us, he slows us down, his lips moving sensual against mine, only nibbling lightly on my probably red-kissed lips. His grip on my ass changes from possessive and desperate to secure. He lets me down slowly, looks at me when he pulls away and a self-satisfied smirk appears on his lips.

“Have fun, Tris.” He says, voice playful and breathless, turns around and closes the door behind him. I breath hard, hand going to my chest to make sure my heart is really pounding so fast and not just gives out on me. My cheeks color and I want to yell after him some profanity, but instead I shake my head at myself. How is it possible he can evoke these feelings inside of me so easily and after already experiencing more then one release on the same day.

I don't overthink it though, start undressing and turn the shower on. The water relaxes me greatly, the feeling of the hot liquid on my body loosening my muscles. I try to concentrate on my feelings that unsurprisingly are in a whirlwind within me. I can easily say that the biggest part of me is content that everything changed in a blink of an eye. As far as I can remember I wanted to be with Eric after only three months of working with him. He is easy on the eyes of course, his features clear, his body like a sculpture of the heros from tales long forgotten. And there is just something about him, the way he talks, acts, works and treats other people that let me respect him, admire him and love him. But maybe that is the problem as well. I don't just yearn for his body, lust after him like many females do. I want more from him then just some heated moments.

I want small and surprising moments of affection, little talks over a cheap, unhealthy meal of fries and hamburgers. I want to discuss movies till I am blue in the face after watching them half-heartedly in the cinema because we were preoccupied with exchanging long-drawn kisses and secret touches under our jackets placed strategically over our knees to hide these touches. I want him to meet my parents eventually, wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me he loves me and stay with me even though I can be a bitch when I am PMSing. I want to argue with him over silly things like who should take the waste outside, that I forgot to refuel the car after taking it to go shopping or that he needs to finally learn to clean the stupid sink after he shaved. I realize I want a life with him. I want it all, sugarcoated but real. I sigh to myself, feeling silly with my own pink-painted and unrealistic wishes and also sad and disappointed because I didn't realized it earlier when things weren't so complicated and I still had a safe way out of it.

And the question isn't if he can give me all of these silly things because I know deep down he could and would because he can read me like no other person could before him. The question isn't if he feels the same way, if he can give me a life with himself because as far as I know – and I force myself to be honest – he never showed or even hinted at anything romantically between the two of us. Not before he slept with me, not after it. He showed me his want clearly, but not that it goes further then that.

The real question is, if I can be happy with the things he is willing to give me if it goes on after this night. If these wild, passionate and fulfilling encounters are enough. I bite my lip because I haven't a clue. At the moment I feel good mostly. I still feel his touches before he left the bathroom and I am still aroused. But that is the problem, really. I can't think with him around me, not after he showed me what he can do and that he is easily able to satisfy my needs. It was easier before all of this, with just having a crush on him. I could put it away and don't think about it consciously. Now it is at the forefront of my mind.

I sigh again, head leaning back against the tiling and come to a decision. I will answer my question tomorrow. Tomorrow he will be gone for a whole day and I can get my mind out of the gutter, go jogging in the park or lose myself in paperwork to maybe decide with what I am happy or not. I will enjoy myself tonight, will savor the moments with him, burning them into my memory. Everything else has to wait because I think even if I want to I couldn't leave just yet.

I open my eyes then, feeling the heaviness of my thoughts leaving me, placated for the night. I start to look for some shower gel and shampoo I could use after I let the water run down my body for a few minutes without moving. All I find is of course soap for men but it doesn't bother me too much. I start to wash my hair and smell the soft scent of pine, messaging my scalp and rinse it afterwards. Then I grab the bottle with the shower gel, squirting some of it into my palm and start applying it on my body. The scent of his soap invades my nose and I close my eyes to savor it. It evokes the heat again within me, because it is now laced with memories of him on and in me. I feel my abdomen tense lightly, a shudder running through my body, heat pooling in it and my most private area longs to be touched. I frown at my own need, at my own body, the feelings and nearly constant arousal new to me.

I hear the door open and know I am not alone anymore, a small breeze wafting into the bathroom, meeting my heated skin. My cheeks flush lightly at the thought that maybe he watches me now and takes in my body fully naked for the first time. If he appreciates the view? I feel something inside of me rise, a naughty little idea that lets my body hum with pleasure. Make the most of now, I think to myself and enjoy the notion.

My soapy hands slowly find my breasts, massaging them softly, brushing over already erected nipples and making me moan. I pinch them softly, jerking slightly at the intense feeling rushing through my veins. I let one hand slowly glide down my stomach, making a show for him to enjoy in drawing circles on my skin, leaning my head back a bit and moaning softly when I twist my nipple between two fingers. I bite my lip when my hand touches my folds and spread my legs a bit to have more room to move.

When my fingertips brush my already sensitive bundle of nerves I jerk again slightly, shuddering at the feeling and his eyes on me while I touch myself. I bite my lip, slowly inserting one finger into myself, curling it a bit to get a better friction and start to pump it in and out of me leisurely. I moan again, breathing faster, heart pounding in my chest. My finger is joined by a second and I angle my hand a bit to let the heel of it brush against my clit whenever I pull my fingers out slightly. I open my eyes then, see him through the glass doors and water drops on it, his gray eyes burning. I meet his stare, bite my lip again and whatever he sees, he starts to walk towards me, towel falling down where he stood, pulls his shirt away, exposing his neck tattoos even more and his pierced nipples. I groan when he pushes his pants down and I see him hard and ready to take me. He walks like a predator, eyes never leaving mine and I am happy that my plan worked, that I was the one driving him to enter the shower.

Eric opens the door with one swift pull, closes it as fast behind him, grabs my arms and pins them next to me to the wet tiling. His tall frame meets mine until it presses my body against the wall, letting me shiver from the cold wall tiles against my heated skin and his hot erection against my stomach. He uses one of his hands to secure my wrists above my head, his other slowly going down to my chin, pushing it up so I have to look into his eyes. His fingers find my nipple and he pinches it hard, making me hiss in pleasure and pain.

“So you like to play with fire...” He murmurs, his eyes still burning, his voice hard and I ask myself how he can still be so in control when I am nearly mush from his cock pressing against my stomach and his hand on my breast. I breath heavily and try to speak as clearly as I can at the moment.

“Payback.” I say and he smirks. He leans back a bit, pushes my legs apart with his knee, his hand leaving my chest and in one swift movement presses my clit. I hiss again, my eyes rolling back and I hear him chuckle. I feel him lean down a bit, his mouth aligning with my ear.

“Make sure to keep your weaknesses a secret then, otherwise your plan doesn't work.” He roughly whispers and I wish I could use my hand to tease him back.

“But it did work.” I say, smiling, moving my hips to brush his cock and get more friction where his fingers tease me. I bite my lip when I succeed and they brush my bundle of nerves again. He bites my earlobe in response, his tongue licking at it afterwards and I moan again.

“Does it?” He asks, letting his hand at my pussy slide through the wet folds in a slow pace but never to the part of it where I need him desperately. I forcefully open my eyes, let him see my need for him leaning my head forward to bite his chest. He groans softly when I let my tongue wander over his chest to his nipple, taking the small metal sphere and the tissue it is pierced through into my mouth, softly nibbling it and latching at it. He pushes me back, his hand leaving my wet folds completely now and I huff in protest.

“I asked if it does.” Eric says, his voice commanding and I shudder at his dominance that lets a part of me flutter in appreciation. He pinches my nipple again and all I can do is try to squirm my legs to get some sort of friction between them, but it doesn't work, his knee still pushing them apart, my core pulsing with the unbearable need to be touched.

“Please...” I moan, his fingers sending heat and arousal through me with every touch on my breast.

“Please, I need...” I whisper, looking up to him and hope he is generous because I don't think I would shy away from begging even though it would be humiliating and maybe take away the fun. He turns me around then and I brace my hands against the tiling next to my face. He is rough when he grabs my hips to position me better, but I think I like it that way, like him manhandling me at the moment and the dominance he shows. He breaths against my ear, licking it again. His left hand wanders to my breast, cupping it, capturing a nipple between two knuckles, pressing them together a bit. I push my ass back against him, try to meet his erection, to make him touch my pussy again.

“I know what you need, love. Just a moment.” He says and I shudder at the nickname and the way he tries to placate me. He spreads my legs again, his knee pressing against my core, rubbing it. I moan, wiggling my hips to satisfy my need.

“So willing...” He murmurs against my ear, hot breath caressing it, his voice laced with appreciation and lust, clouding it to be deeper and a bit raspy. I moan loudly, my mind clouded with arousal.

“Stay like this.” He commands, taking away his knee between my spread legs. His hand squeezes my hip before it wanders down to my ass, fingertips pressing into the flesh. His other hand joins it, leaving my breasts bare and I press them against the cool tiling. I feel him pushing my cheeks apart, holding them like this when his thumb massages my anus. The sensation is new to me and I shudder at his touch, my core throbbing with the need to be touched. He continues and one of my hands goes down to my clit, pinching it and I moan again. I feel when one of his hands lets go of my ass and I feel his pointer finger circling my anus now, teasing it with the tip. It feels good until he presses down on the muscle, wants to insert his finger into my ass.

“Don't...” I say frightened, jerking forward, away from it, trying to press my cheeks together in panic and he retreats a bit. My heart beats fast, my arousal vanishing slightly. I feel his chest against my back, his hand pushing my hair away from my shoulder.

“Ok.... don't worry. I am sorry, love.” He whispers against my skin, kissing my neck and ear, voice calm, brushing his hands up against my sides a few times before one wanders to the juncture of my legs and the other to my breast afterwards. His touch is soft, reassuring and gentle and I begin to relax again, the panic replaced by arousal, his fingertip circling from my clit to my entrance.

He turns me around slowly, his lips kissing my face and I sigh, grateful that he takes his time to work me up again after his action and my reaction to it ruined the mood a bit. My hands are free now and I let them slide over his back, to his hard ass and squeeze it. He hums in pleasure when my nails scrape his skin and I let my limbs wander to his hard cock, brushing against it softly then grabbing it to message the head. He leans his forehead against mine, our breath mixing under the hot water.

“Ok?” He asks and I nod, enjoying his touches and mine, relaxed and needy for him inside of me. He grabs the back of my thighs again, lifting me up against the tiling with ease. After wrapping my legs around his waist I focus my eyes on his, his hand positioning his hard length at my entrance. When he penetrates me, my eyes widen in pleasure and completeness of finally being filled and I let him see what he does to me, my hand at his cheek when he begins to move. I moan for him, keeping my eyes from blinking and he seems to be transfixed, his eyes wandering over my face again and again.

“You feel so good...” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to my mouth for a moment. His hand that doesn't holds my ass goes to my jaw then, fixing our eyes together, his movements inside of me hard and hitting all the right points to let the knot in me tighten with pleasure.

“Gods...” I whisper at an intense wave, my voice hoarse and his lips pull up in a self-satisfied smile. I squeeze my walls around him and he shudders and groans in response, his eyes narrowing at my comeback and in pleasure.

He picks up his pace and my eyes role back when his hand leaves my jaw and finds my clit between us, my back leaning into the wall behind me, to get a better angle, to let him penetrate me deeper because I feel my release isn't far now. My nails scrape the skin on his shoulder, search for something to hold onto when my orgasm drowns me, my muscles clenching down on his cock, making him shudder and groan my name in his own release.

My hips move when I ride out my high and he groans at the movement, grabbing my hips to still them. He takes a small step forward, his chest pressing against mine and I sling my arms around him. Eric's eyes are dark and glint again with the something I can't place. He looks at me for a few moments, hums a bit whenever my walls clamp in the aftermath of my orgasm and finally leans forward, pressing his lips to mine.

It isn't a demanding kiss, not filled with lust or passion but with something else that lets my heart flutter in affection. His warm tongue meets mine, I hum softly, my nails scraping lightly over the back of his neck, my other arm slinging around his shoulders.

We stay silent throughout the rest of our shower, washing each other, feeling each other without a desperate need or the wish to engage in more then just hands against soapy skin.

I towel myself off, before wrapping it around me, feeling tired and relaxed. After I brushed my hair with the comb I find on the sink, Eric gives me a toothbrush and I smile at him in thanks. We brush our teeth next to each other and it feels like we are more then a secretary and her boss, more like two people that had sex more then one time on one day. It feels like we can be more and I hope I will find my strength to talk about it after he comes back, because this silent moment, while he watches me through his mirror, gray eyes fixed on mine feels right.

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