9. Jonathan
Jonathan
I let out a long and exhausted sigh after twisting the last screw into place. The doorknob—bought this morning after I had painstakingly woken up early—winked in its sparkling new condition.
I scowled at the old, useless one lying in the trash bag next to me.
This asshole. If this little fucker had worked properly yesterday, I would’ve slept perfectly well last night without another thought in this world.
I would’ve also continued living my life in peace.
Now I was mortified thinking about how my cock got hard when Lina Lee’s nipples grazed over my abs just because I hadn’t had sex in over a year.
Or I would have been able to close my eyes without her bright pink motherfucking vibrator flashing across the back of my eyelids.
Life, itself, would have been better if this piece of shit had done its job. But here we fucking were.
I was gathering up trash and placing the screwdriver back in our toolbox when the jingle of keys startled me. Then, Lina waltzed in. Her face was void of any shred of emotion as she looked me in the eyes.
If you had asked me twenty-four hours ago whether Lina had the capacity to feel, let alone show emotion, I would’ve said no.
But after last night—seeing her eyes light up with fury, hearing her amused laughter, witnessing the horror cracking the edges of that perfectly symmetrical face of hers—I’d say she was human. To a certain extent.
And it had only been two fucking weeks since she started working here.
The only indication she was embarrassed was the light tinge of pink across her high cheekbones.
Meanwhile, I was burning bright red at the sight of her.
I was more surprised to see her than she was to see me, despite both of us being here far too early for either of our shifts.
No dark circles adorned the underside of her eyes either.
She wasn’t as bothered as I was. Same as always.
“Good morning,” she said, sounding as normal and as composed as ever.
I coughed instead of responding, and I got off the floor. Instead of following her into the break room, I went outside to toss the broken doorknob into the dumpster. It was an excuse to buy me some time to cool off with the frosty morning air. My skin was still sizzling hot because of last night.
The scent of fresh coffee brewing greeted me as I walked back into the pharmacy. The rumbling of the air vents overhead was light, and the heater had yet to warm up the place. Good, because I was already sweating.
I didn’t know what to do or how to handle the situation with Lina. No matter how much I despised her personally, she was still my staff pharmacist. The way my body reacted last night was a clear HR violation. One even worse than me telling her I never liked her.
She was by the sink, stirring the contents in her mug. I took one look at her. That was all I could do.
“Imsorry.” The words slurred out of my mouth.
The sound of her stir stick sloshing around in her coffee stopped.
She inhaled sharply. I gathered the courage to look at her again.
When I did, that mouth of hers was already open.
I glanced at it—at the way I never noticed how her lips were heart-shaped, how they were naturally downturned into a frown.
I once thought she was this icy and emotionless robot—someone who saw herself as the center of the universe and made sure everyone knew it with her scowls. But . . . How wrong had I been?
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, louder and clearer. “For everything that happened last night.”
The calm exterior of her demeanor cracked as a blood-red flush flared from her scalp to her ears past her neck to her hands.
I had never seen anyone’s hands blush before, but now I had.
I stared at her red neck for a moment. She was wearing a tight black turtleneck today. I tried not to look at her chest.
“It’s not all your fault. I-I’m sorry about what happened last night too,” she murmured. “The items that fell out of my bag were—”
I held out a hand to stop her. I choked up three quick, sharp strings of sentences. “No need to explain yourself, Dr. Lee. Those were personal items. And it’s unnecessary for you to elaborate on such things.”
The room became too stifling. I panted out a breath as Lina diverted her attention to my shoes. That simple glance caused my memories from last night to resurface.
A bright pink vibrator flashed across my mind. It had glided across the tiled floor, switching on during its tumble out of the box and oscillating at its highest tempo. When its tip landed against my foot, I could feel its strength through the sole of my black Oxfords.
Upon seeing the sex toy, without hesitating at all, my mind envisioned it stimulating a brown-pink clit as a soft, muffled moan shuddered out of a woman. The contrast between the bold color of that smooth, medical-grade silicone tip and the clit was so fucking sexy.
She was dripping as a hand moved the sex toy down to her cunt, gathering the slick arousal there.
The hand, large and with protruding veins, slid the vibrator back up and applied the tiniest of pressure onto her wet clit.
The images continued . . . A flick of the wrist with the vibrator against the little bud.
Then, the sweetest reward of a breathy gasp filled the air.
‘Oh my God, Jonathan,’ I heard Lina’s voice—
No, I interrupted myself, tucking the rest of that sick fantasy into the back of my mind. Muggy, warm air from the vents blew over my face. I undid one of the buttons of my shirt. I looked up at Lina and exhaled a long, rough breath. What the hell was this woman doing to me?
“None of it will ever happen again,” said Lina with icy certainty. Her calm and unbothered demeanor returned to its rightful place. Any other ounce of emotion was wiped clean from her face.
“It most definitely won’t,” I agreed, undoing the buttons of my sleeve.
It was so fucking hot and suffocating in this room. I rolled up my sleeves as I walked over to the cabinet where we stored our mugs. I had already drunk a cup of coffee at home, but I knew I needed another. As I moved toward the coffee maker, Lina backed away so abruptly her coffee spilled.
Good. She knew to keep her distance from me now.
“I also wanted to apologize for not helping you close last night,” I stated as I poured myself a cup of steaming coffee.
After Lina’s flimsy bag had ripped in half and her vibrator burst out, I handed the toy back to her.
Once I had placed that damned item in her hand, I grabbed my things and was out the door.
I never bothered to look at her. It would’ve been far too much with my cock throbbing with a pulse of its own.
“It’s alright, Dr. Lo. I didn’t need your help in the first place,” she said coolly.
We were silent for some time as we sipped the strong coffee Lina had made. I didn’t bother adding any sugar or cream to the bitter coffee. I caught myself thinking, What’s the use of sweetening the acrid relationship between Lina and me?
I hesitated before opening my mouth again, feeling as awkward and clumsy as a prepubescent boy. “Maybe we should call a truce,” I mumbled.
Out of the corner of my eyes, Lina perked up. She didn’t say anything. I turned to her and looked her square in the eyes. They were such a dark shade of brown; they were practically black.
“Again, I’m sorry for everything. As you said last night and this morning, it won’t happen again.” I stuck my hand out to her as a peace offering. “Truce?”
She peered down at my hand like I had done something offensive.
Her shiny lips pursed. “A truce?” A slow blink drew her sparse but long black lashes down her cheeks.
“Apart from the events last night, I did nothing wrong, sir. Believe me, that one was personal. But I had done nothing up until that point.”
The corner of my lips itched to give her a wry smirk. My expression hardened with a tired, exasperated exhale instead. Technically, she hadn’t done anything upsetting professionally.
However, she was still rude, condescending, and got under my skin too easily.
“My apologies. It was my lack of professionalism that caused tension between us,” I said.
My hand was still extended, and she made zero attempts to shake it. Her expression continued to carry no hint of readable emotion.
“Dr. Lee,” I grumbled hoarsely. “I’m sorry.”
“Make it sound more sincere, Dr. Lo,” she pressed with a slow drop of her eyelids into this domineering and frosty exterior.
A thick lump of pride and ego swelled in my chest as I stared into those cold, black depths she called eyes. When it came to her, I always had the desire to win. It didn’t matter whether that meant winning from the top or from underneath—just win.
It wasn’t just because she was rude. It was also because she knew how to push me to the edge. She got under my skin while I blundered and burned with a dislike that might as well be hatred.
But this wasn’t hatred. I could learn to be cordial with Lina Lee, that much was true. I had learned years ago, and I could still do it now.
“Consider accepting my apology, Dr. Lee,” I said with a dry throat.
I tipped my head forward and plastered on a soft smile—one I knew eased most people. We may be two feet apart, but our egos were centimeters from throttling each other. “As I said earlier, I’m sorry. I’m . . . aware of how childish and unprofessional I’ve been, and I apologize for that behavior.”
Lina’s mouth fell open, wide and shaped like an ‘O.’ Shock cracked across her blank face. It was another indication that she wasn’t the mechanical, emotionless shell of a robot I once thought she was.
“Woo, it’s warm in here!” laughed Grace, walking into the break room.
Lina and I jumped as she went straight to the locker to take off her scarf.
She continued talking without another glance toward us.
“Jonathan, thank you for coming in early to turn on the heater and make a fresh pot of coffee. Lina, you’re in quite early, too, aren’t you? ”
I hesitated to answer her. “Actually, it was Dr. Lee who did that. I was fixing the doorknob to the janitor’s closet,” I said.
Grace stopped midway through stashing her purse and finally looked at us.
Her dark-brown eyes were curious as she peered at Lina.
She slowly turned to me, and I knew there were certain thoughts already forming in her head that probably shouldn’t be there.
Her bright, warm smile beamed blindingly as she glanced between the two of us again.
“You two came in together?”
“No,” Lina and I answered in unison.
She laughed—almost giddy. “Pour me a cup of that coffee, Jonathan.”
Like a nephew who always listened to his aunt, I grabbed a cup from the cabinet. But I didn’t move to pour her a cup.
“You sure, Grace? Dr. Lee likes her coffee strong and bitter.”
Lina’s jaw tightened despite me pointing out the truth. Her glare at me was just short of daggers plunging into me, and the smile I had on my mouth pulled wider into a grin. Good to know there were micro-emotions seething underneath her perfect composure.
Grace’s smile softened slightly as she said, “No. I think I’m good.”
I smiled. “No problem, Grace. I can go ahead and make you a new batch.”
“Thank you, Jonathan.”
Lina was silent and seemed calm as I tossed the half-filled pot of her coffee down the sink. But the flare of her nose made me grin wider.
She may have her ways of getting under my skin. But so do I.