Torn Asunder Ch. 02: Lust

A/N: Thanks for the comments and favourites! I hope you like Chapter 2, and sorry for the delay, I've been sick.

Chapter Two: Lust

Dawn broke far too early the next morning. Even in sleep, I rebelled against the sun pouring in past the curtains I forgot to close, and I woke groggily to tightly shut eyes and the comforter over my head. I groaned and rolled over, risking a peek out from my nest to glare blearily at the alarm clock that had yet to go off: 6:47 AM.

"Fuck." I muttered, throwing off the comforter, wiping my eyes and blinking until they functioned in the brightness of the room. I needed to hurry, I had forgotten to set my alarm, so I only had thirteen minutes if I wanted to make it to work on time. I was sure Dev would forgive me for strolling in a bit late, but honestly I couldn't afford the time, not with the Harrington deadline looming.

I looked longingly toward the bathroom as I weighed my options. Shower, or breakfast...Shower...Breakfast...I shook my head and stood up, making my way quickly into the bathroom. If I kept my shower to a very fast five minutes, I could leave a little early and swing past a coffee shop for a bite to eat and a much needed dose of caffeine.

Since I was already naked, I jumped in the shower before I'd even turned it on. As I turned the knobs, I braced myself for the first frigid blast of water, and as it hit me I stifled a squeak, straightened, and backed out of the stream. Too cold.

Unfortunately, due to the angle of the showerhead, I wasn't free of the shower spray until my back was pressed against the icy tile of the bathtub wall. I gasped, but suppressed the urge to jump back into the water.

As I waited, and as the wall behind me warmed to my body temperature, I shivered violently. "Come on, come on," I muttered to myself as I fidgeted, holding a hand out to the slowly warming shower. I dreaded the idea of a completely cold shower, but I only had a few minutes and...

"Fuck it" I said aloud as I gritted my teeth and shoved myself under the spray.

The water poured down my body, plastering my hair to my head and pale shoulders as it darkened from a light brown to something closer to black. Streams like melted icicles ran down my back and over the goosebumped flesh of my arms. I held my hands over my breasts, trying to keep them warm, and ran my thumbs over my nipples. They had hardened into points in the cold, and while it wasn't the nice hardness of arousal, I knew it wouldn't take me long to get there. I contemplated the idea of a quick shower orgasm, letting a hand wander down my body to rub gently between my thighs as the water turned from cold to tolerably warm, but dismissed it in favour of time.

Shampoo. Rinse. Conditioner. Rinse. Soap...I let my hands wander roughly over my sensitive parts, allowing myself to revel in my fantasy for thirty seconds as I washed before I had to rinse again and leave the now steaming hot shower.

The chill air of the bathroom sent me into shivers again as I quickly towelled off, squeezed the remaining water out of my hair, and ran a brush through to get the worst of the tangles out. Then I squeezed (more) water out of my hair, and tied it up in a lazy bun to keep it from soaking my work shirt. Something about my hair - it absorbs water like a sponge and doesn't dry quickly at all, so unless I want to spend half an hour blow drying the crap out of it...Well, that's why it's usually in a braid, or a bun, or some other 'lazy' hairstyle.

I darted into the bedroom, grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them on, almost tripping myself in the process. I glanced at the alarm clock: 6:57 AM. Crap. I was still late.

A bra, socks, and a blouse-like work shirt later, I realized I had forgotten to put on underwear, but there was no time for it now. Luckily I didn't need any makeup, but I did take a half-second to put on the tiniest bit of scent - a musky, cinnamon-y scent made from essential oils. I hated regular perfumes, they always smelled either too much like the alcohol they were made out of, or they were too flowery for me. This was just the right amount of scent, and a much deeper one at that. I was sure that I wouldn't be anywhere close enough to Alexander for him to smell it, but...just in case.

I tiptoed out into the living room, since Mark was asleep on the couch. Unless he had gone out in the night...Nope, there he was, passed out in his boxers. I skirted past him to the kitchen and opened the fridge to look for a plausible lunch.

There was nothing, of course. At least, nothing that could be grabbed within thirty seconds, but luckily there was some leftover sushi that I had stuck in the work fridge, so lunch was covered. I shut the fridge, grabbed my backpack, and headed out the door. 7:03 AM. Not bad.

***

By the time I got to The Grind, the coffee shop down the block from work, I was regretting not taking the extra minute to put on underwear. I fidgeted in line, moving my weight from foot to foot as I felt more...exposed than physically uncomfortable. The rough denim of my jeans wasn't the best material to rub against my more intimate parts, but nothing was pinching, so it could've been worse. However, the sensation of being out in public without underwear was disconcerting, but also a little...exciting? To have that little secret thrill that no one else knew about?

I bit my lip and tried to concentrate as I made my way towards the till. I really had to get this under control.

"Um, an iced peppermint mocha, large, and a chocolate croissant," I said, pausing for a moment before I made an impulse decision, "Wait, make that two croissants please." I was starving, and unlikely to be eating for several hours. Plus, I had a soft spot for chocolate, especially in croissants.

I paid my debt to my caffeine dealer, and made my way to the pick up counter. My thighs pressed together as I walked and the movement just made me more aware of my predicament. I had to wonder about the women wearing skirts here though...were any of them going commando? I wonder if it felt as...risqué as this? More? Or did they just feel free?

I shook my head and smiled wryly to myself as I picked up my order, thanked the barista, and made my way to the office.

***

I tried not to think about Alex, but as I walked to my desk I realized I had taken the hallway that lead past his office. I sighed to myself and kept walking, as it was less obvious than turning around and heading back through the coworkers milling around. His door was open, and I braced myself for...something. In hindsight, I'm not sure what exactly I was bracing for - maybe just his overall presence - but what I didn't brace for, and what hit me hard, was the disappointment that he wasn't there.

I paused ever so slightly at his open door. The lights were off, the desk looked the same as it had last night. Was he just not in yet?

I couldn't afford to linger, so I made my way over to my desk.

"Mornin' Quinn," Tamara said brightly. She worked one cubicle over and was one of the main reasons I wore headphones a lot while I worked.

"Morning," I said with a tired smile, "Have a good night?"

Rookie mistake. I realized my error as Tamara's face lit up, probably due to the fact that I never ask her that anymore, not since she told me about her bowel troubles in excruciating detail once, two years ago.

"Oh yes," she said, the glee evident on her face, "I met someone at the pub and took him home. He was amazing." She lowered her voice to a stage whisper, obviously intending for most of the office to hear, and said "He fucked me in every room in my apartment."

"How...nice" I said, swallowing my unease. Tamara wasn't a bad person, and to each their own, but I did not need to know this information about the forty-nine year old divorced mother of two.

"Even in the kids' rooms, god I feel so naughty," she continued, oblivious to my discomfort, "I must've had ten orgasms. Just incredible. And you know what else?"

"Actually, Tamara," I cut in before she could answer her own question, "I have so much work to do and on a tight deadline, so I should really get to it."

"Oh..." Tamara said, her disappointment palpable, "Of course, I didn't mean to keep you."

I smiled sheepishly at her as I pulled out my headphones and put them in my ears, turning away from her to sit at my computer, turning it on. Sweet silence. I caught the eyes of Sam across from me, and his horrified expression nearly made me snort. I watched as he rearranged his features into something a little more sympathetic as I guess Tamara had turned back towards him. He nodded a few times and I was sorely tempted to take out my headphones just to hear what kind of train wreck was happening, but then Sam sat down and my desktop finished booting up.

I banished all thoughts of sex, whether involving Tamara or...other people. Time to get to work.

***

His head was between my thighs. His breath hot on my skin.

I could feel his lips soft against me, his tongue tasting me, sliding between my labia and running hard over my clit.

His hands held my hips to the bed as he devoured me, driving me to the edge of oblivion and leaving me there, unfulfilled.

***

The expulsion of all sexual thoughts from my head was an exercise in futility.

Not only did every shift in my chair remind me of the fact that I wasn't wearing underwear, (a fact I'm sure Tamara would find absolutely titillating), but when I wasn't actively focusing on my work I was either looking around the office hoping for a glimpse of Alex, or my mind was wandering off on its own accord into delicious fantasies. More than once I caught my hand inching over my thigh as I pressed my crotch down into the chair to give myself some sort of release.

I sighed in frustration and re-positioned myself again after one such daydream, pointedly re-adjusting my monitor screen, as though it were the problem and not my overactive imagination.

I glanced around the room for the umpteenth time, and noticed that it was suspiciously empty. The clock read 10:13 AM, so it seemed like it was coffee break time. I slumped back into my chair and groaned, if this was the pace I was going to keep setting, the project was never going to be done on time.

I picked up my cup of ice and slurped at the last few diluted sips of coffee while I played with the straw and considered my options. Spinning my chair around to face the room, I wondered if a walk might help - stretch the legs, maybe some fresh air. The treacherous part of my brain chimed in by telling me I could always take a couple swings past Alex's office to see if he was in.

No. Be good. I thought to myself. I spun back to face my desk, setting down my cup. I could also sign out one of the office laptops and go work somewhere else, get away from the office for a bit and maybe I would have more luck concentrating.

Or I could go give myself a quick orgasm in the work bathroom.

I groaned and lay my head on my desk. When did I become so ridiculously sex-starved?

I decided a walk was in order. I swept up the last few crumbs of my croissants into their empty bag, got my empty cup, and headed off to the great outdoors.

I was back in half an hour, with more coffee, and no closer to resolving my frustration.

***

I looked up into Alex's eyes. He was looming over me, but I wasn't scared. I wanted this. I wanted him.

We didn't speak, we didn't need to. He pressed me against the wall, his body hard against me, and I could feel my breath catch in my throat as he leaned in to kiss me.

***

The apartment door slammed behind me. It was late, so I cringed and paused a moment to listen for angry neighbours. I didn't hear anything, so I continued to attempt my quiet stomp into the kitchen.

The rest of my day had not gone well. I managed to get some work done, sure, but every page edited was absolute torture to get through. Worse yet, when I tried to grab a company laptop so I could maybe forgo the office nonsense tomorrow, I found out that Alex himself had taken the last one for his week of client meetings out of the office.

"Won't even have some goddamn eye candy in the office," I muttered to myself, fully aware that it was a stupid thing to get pissed off at.

I heard stirring in the other room as I perused the fridge for something edible. I'd grabbed dinner, courtesy of the company, but that had been several hours ago and I tend to crave carbs when I'm stressed. I frowned at the limp vegetables and moved to the cupboard, rifling through the mess of spices and other dried goods.

Mark strolled into the kitchen, half-naked and yawning, "Hey babe," he said, stretching his arms above his head, "What's with the door slamming? You woke me up."

"Sorry," I muttered, roughly opening the box of chocolate chip cookies I had finally found. When I looked inside though, there was only half a cookie and a bunch of crumbs. I sighed and put the box on the counter, pinching the bridge of my nose as I fought to stay calm. "Could you try not to leave empty boxes in the cupboards?" I said as I went to move around Mark, "It gets my hopes up."

"It wasn't empty," he protested as he failed to move and instead tried to wrap me in his arms, "Hey, you okay?"

Before I thought about what I was doing, I flinched and stepped away from him, "Don't. I'm fine." I said angrily.

His face went from concerned to angry to sullen and he turned away, waving dismissively, "Fine, whatever" he said as he stalked back to the living room.

I sighed again and squeezed my eyes shut. I did not need a fight right now, but I knew I'd crossed a line. "Wait," I said, following him, "I'm sorry."

He sat on the couch and picked up his game controller, unpausing something that looked like Halo, but I wasn't sure, and in a dispassionate voice said, "Uh huh."

"No, really. I'm sorry," I said as I sat down next to him, placing my hand on his arm in a placating gesture, "I'm just really stressed with work. It's not an excuse, I know, but I didn't mean to snap."

I got no response, not even a flicker of attention. Great, he was pouting. I didn't have the time, nor the energy to deal with this right now. So I just shook my head and stood, "I'm going to bed then. Maybe we'll both be in a better mood when I wake up."

I closed the bedroom door behind me, a not-so-subtle hint to leave me be, and stripped off all my clothes before flopping into bed.

I need to get my ass in gear I thought as I rolled over onto my back and kicked at the blankets in irritation until I could climb under them, If I lose this account, not even Dev can keep me from getting fired.

I stared at the ceiling for far too long, anxious thoughts running through my head. It should've been easy to fall asleep, I was so tired, but instead either the coffee from earlier was keeping me awake, or my own brain was betraying me.

I glanced over at the nightstand, wondering if I could 'relax' myself into sleep - get rid of at least some of the frustration - but I quickly remembered that I still had to buy batteries for my vibrator. My eyes wandered over toward the door, just a light-outlined shadow in the darkness of my room, as I briefly contemplated walking out - bold as brass and completely naked - to steal the batteries out of the remote. He'd definitely have to say something at that.

I huffed quiet laughter as I rolled over to face away from the door. Even if I did do that, it wouldn't have the desired effect. I wanted to get off, but I wasn't sure I wanted him to get me there. I wanted him to stop pouting, but I wasn't sure that was the direction I wanted the conversation to go. So I did nothing, and eventually I fell asleep, alone.

***

Wednesday and Thursday went much like Tuesday had. I was irritated from lack of sleep, which led to an inability to concentrate, which led to more resentment. It stopped being about Alex though, which was a blessing. The daydreams didn't stop, but I could dismiss them quickly with angry thoughts and get on with my day. I got more work done overall, which helped ease the anxiety over the account, but I still struggled with falling asleep.

Mark was giving me the silent treatment, despite multiple apologies on Wednesday, over text and once I'd gotten home from another long day. I decided it was just better for him to get it out of his system - I had zero energy for fighting him.

Friday dawned and my alarm woke me groggily from another half-sleepless night. I turned it off without looking and sat up, knowing that I'd just fall back asleep if I didn't. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I saw Mark had spent yet another night on the couch. I exhaled slowly, knowing I'd have to deal with that sooner or later, but for now I needed to go have another semi-productive day at work.

I disregarded the shower, as I had the last couple of days, having allowed myself a little bit of extra sleeping time in exchange. The weekend was approaching, and while I knew I'd have to spend at least some time at the office, I could be a little bit more leisurely about it and have a nice long shower tomorrow.

After tying my hair up in a messy bun and dressing simply in jeans and a t-shirt, I made my way to the front hall, grabbed my backpack and left without a sound.

***

Coffee in hand and ignoring the world around me, I approached the office door at the same time as someone reached out to open it, gesturing that I should go ahead.

"Oh, thank...you..." I said, my eyes lifting from where they were watching the ground, right into a pair of now familiar hazel eyes.

Those eyes should not be so familiar, I thought, and immediately after: Are you kidding me? As I blinked stupidly at Alex and held up the thoroughfare in the doorframe.

"You're back," I said, continuing to stare at him.

He smiled, and on anyone else I would've called it a gentle smile, but gentle felt wrong on him, "Yes, no client meetings today," he replied as he stepped in behind me, probably to keep traffic moving.

I walked into the lobby of the building, cursing my luck. Of course today was the day he returned - when I was gross from three days of working long hours and not showering and irritation was etched into all of the lines that were surely forming on my face from constant frowning.

My mind spiralled a bit, berating me, and at first I didn't hear what he had asked, but he had spoken, so I shook my head, turned to face him, and asked "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

That almost-gentle smile again, "I asked how your week was. You look a little rough for wear, and I know you're on a tight deadline," he said, walking towards the elevator.

I trotted after him to keep up, "It's been...a week," I said, not wanting to complain, but desperately wanting to commiserate.

He grinned at me over his shoulder as he pressed the call button, "Yeah, for me too, and I haven't been pulling the hours I'm sure you have."

I couldn't help but grin back, "First weeks are always hard though," I said, "Generally it feels like trying to drink from a firehose, no?"

Alex laughed, actually laughed, and I felt some of the weight lift off my shoulders, "Yeah, it is that."

The elevator arrived empty and we got on along with the three other people waiting behind us. It was a silent ride up, everyone concerned with their own business, and when we reached TartanOwl Press' main offices on the fifth floor, Alex walked away with a nod to me, heading towards Dev across the way.

My shoulders hunched forward again as I made my way to my desk and dreaded the workday to come.

***

I could feel him around me. Our bodies, slick with sweat, entwined amongst the sheets.