22. Octavia
OCTAVIA
“Fuck, yes.” Nathan’s breathy groan made Octavia smile and she crossed her legs tightly under her desk.
She was painting a picture of a change room, but in her mind he was kneeling beneath her desk, his hot mouth on her while people in the office went about their day beyond her door.
She had never done anything like this, but apparently Nathan brought something out in her she didn’t know existed.
She’d been getting to know herself right along with him.
“You’re so hard for me,” she teased.
“Only for you.” He panted.
She liked this, being on the other side of this conversation. She also liked that he was allowing her to be in charge.
“Do you want my mouth on you? Want to fuck deep into my throat until tears are streaming down my face?”
“God yes.”
There was a knock at the door and in a panic Octavia threw her phone to the floor. The very last coworker she wanted to see poked his head around her door and she cringed at the smile he sent her way. Ronald sauntered in, grinning like he knew exactly what she’d been up to.
“Sorry to intrude, do you ugh”—he glanced down at the floor where her phone was sitting—“wanna pick that up?” She looked down and shook her head. It wasn’t close enough that she could stay in her chair and she knew where Ronald’s eyes would go the second she stood up.
“What can I do for you Ronald?”
His eyes travelled over her slowly, making her skin crawl in the most unpleasant way. “I just wanted to let you know that Carol wants you to hand the Mexico file over to me to look through.”
“Why? I’m not even done yet. There are sixty contracts between the English and Spanish versions.”
He smirked back. “And I am fluent in Spanish, she wants my eyes on them. Not sure why I wasn’t given them in the first place.” Because you’re a lazy sack of shit, she thought.
“Can I bring them by in a bit?”
“I’d rather just take them now, I don’t know how long you’ll be on the phone with your boyfriend.” His eyes slid to her phone again.
She could try and say she wasn’t talking to Nathan during work hours, but there was no point. There were no hard and fast rules that forbid them from taking personal calls during the day.
Octavia opened her desk drawer and pulled the stack of files out, not bothering to set them down on her desk gently. The sound echoed through the office and she watched at least one person in a cubicle jump.
“Have at ’em, Ron.”
He glared back. No one in the office was more uppity about their name than Ronald.
But in this moment, the man had robbed her of a potential orgasm while explicitly telling her very hot boyfriend what she’d do to him in a dressing room.
Today and everyday henceforth he’d fucking lost the privilege of having those last three letters.
She watched as he slid the files off her desk and walked out without another word, not bothering to close her door.
“Asshole,” she mumbled, finally standing to get her phone, seeing she hadn’t hung up and the call was still connected. She raised it to her ear. “Nathan?”
“Was that the asshole?”
“Yep.”
“Want me to come down there and beat him up?”
She smiled at the offer, knowing he probably would if she said yes. “I’m not sure you want that kind of publicity, but the fact you’re willing to is pretty hot.”
“Yeah? Got a bit of a violent streak, babe?”
“When it comes to the idea of Ronald being punched, I do.” She melted a little at his responding laugh. “I’m sorry we got interrupted.” She sighed, looking up at the clock on her desk. “And now I don’t have time to finish what we started.”
“We’ve got time,” he replied.
“No, I really—”
“Just in general,” he added quickly. “We’ve got time for all the phone sex and bed sex and whatever other kind of sex we want. I don’t have a timer on this thing, Autumn girl. Do you?”
“No.” She could feel the blush creep over the apples of her cheeks. “No timer.”
“I can picture that blush spreading, gorgeous.” He chuckled warmly, a sound that hit her directly in the chest. “Hey, before you get back to work, would you go out with me tonight?”
“Oh? Does this mean you won’t be naked, waiting for me like I asked?”
“We can do that after the date,” he flirted.
“I didn’t say we, I said you.”
She heard his deep intake of breath. “Fuck, it’s hot when you’re bossy. I’ll do whatever you tell me to, baby.”
“Good boy,” she murmured.
“Fuck, Octavia, I’m going to need you to agree to the date or finish what you started earlier.”
She sighed. “I wish I could. I’ll see you tonight for our date.”
“Good girl.” He laughed. “Have a good rest of your day, beautiful.”
“A game café?” Octavia said as she stopped and looked up at the sign.
“Is it corny? Shit, it’s corny.” Nathan rubbed his neck, his face scrunching as if he was prepared for her to confirm.
“What? No, this is great! I’ve heard of them but I’ve never been.” She watched him relax, dropping his hand, and reaching for hers before pushing through the door.
They found a quiet spot off to the side and, after ordering burgers, they wandered around the room looking for a game to play.
“Boggle?” Nathan asked, pulling it down from one of the higher shelves. “Don’t look at me like that, Octavia, I can spell just fine.”
She threw her hands up. “I never said you couldn’t spell, I just expected you to pick something a bit more high stakes.”
“Speed spelling is pretty high stakes.”
She laughed as she turned and walked back to their table. “If you say so, honey!”
“I like that you call me that.” He smiled shyly at her.
“What? Honey?”
He nodded.
“Really? I don’t even know why, I’ve never called anyone honey before.”
“Good.” He smirked, sitting back to make room for the server to put his plate down. “Thank you,” he said, glancing quickly up at him before looking back at Octavia. “I’m glad I’m the only one who gets it.”
“Why do you call me Autumn?” she asked, glancing up at him while squirting ketchup onto her plate.
He smirked back, his eyes sweeping across her face. “You fell, that first night.”
“Yes, I recall.”
“You’ve got red hair.”
“Oh, good, you’ve noticed. I was worried you didn’t know despite all the time you’ve got it wrapped around your fist.” It was her turn to smirk.
“Fall and red, Autumn.” He laughed. “It’s silly but it just came out so it stuck.”
“It’s a little silly but I like it.”
They played two rounds of Boggle, each winning one—Nathan once again proving he was much more intelligent than she had expected—before moving onto Guess Who.
By the time they left they were both wiping tears out of their eyes from laughing, and Octavia felt like she’d gotten to know a new side of Nathan.
He applied literary stereotypes when asking his questions.
“Do they look like they would really enjoy a walk through Middle Earth?” or “Would they quote Shakespeare so much that you would need a dictionary of Old English to understand them?” Octavia, on the other hand, suddenly couldn’t think of questions beyond the basics like “Do they have a beard?”
Regardless of the outcome of the games they played, getting to know Nathan more felt like an entirely different kind of winning. Especially since she had lost Guess Who soundly.
He’d insisted she grab some clothes so she could stay the night. He had an early morning, but he didn’t want their night to end, so she agreed. He helped her pack a bag, reaching for seconds and then thirds of everything like a greedy child.
By the time they fell asleep they had both drained each other of energy, and Octavia drifted off wondering how much longer these good days would last. Because they never did. Storm clouds blew in, tides shifted, and things that felt this good, always ended.