nc-17 | sexual content

Tiny jolts of static electricity jumped from his fingertips to her temples as he removed her glasses. Her eyes closed, and in the back of her mind, she wondered if the electrical charge was enough to cause an involuntary muscle response. The tightness in her chest made her realize she was holding her breath, but she still didn't exhale.

He was going to kiss her. She could determine this without even looking, because the sound of his breathing - labored, almost - came closer. She wanted to protest, because it wasn't that late, because Josh and Donna were still in his office, because her door was open, because a reporter could walk by any -

Softer than last night, but his mouth was dry, or maybe that was hers. She didn't open her eyes. She didn't move, didn't encourage him in any way, and it only took him a moment to catch on.

"I'm aware of the fact that this is going to make it sound as if we're trapped in a bad movie, but are you regretting last night?"

She waited for him to finish it off with, '... because I don't," but it didn't come. She looked at him then, but she couldn't read his expression. Thoughts bumped into each other in her mind, honesty tumbling out before she could make a conscious decision.

"It wasn't the best decision I've made all year."

It wasn't, and this was the last thing the administration - or she, for that matter - needed right now, but that didn't erase the memory of his hands sliding along her thigh, pulling down her underwear. It had felt like a mistake then, too, and maybe that was part of the reason why she came so hard.

"Is it ... Toby?"

"No," she said quickly. (Too. Quickly.) "It's just not a good time."

He muttered something. ('It's never going to be a good time'?) Maybe that was true, but there were times that were better than others. Her mouth moved noiselessly as she tried to explain, excuse, justify, something, her behavior from last night. (Pushing him against the wall, ripping the lining of his jacket.)

Then he was kissing her again, more roughly this time. Noises from outside her office told her that Josh (or Donna, maybe) was milling around in the bullpen. Someone would see them, if -

Moving, backwards, and then the door was closed. He said something again - 'I need this' or maybe 'I need you' - and she started undoing the buttons of his shirt. Some mistakes were worth repeating.


| return to story index |