Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Social conduct for hate-free inter-colleague teamwork
Short: SCHIT
Both parties are prohibited from sexual intercourse or excessive physical contact (including, but not limited to, kissing, touching, looking at, etc.) with others during the term of the contract.
(Written confirmation from Party B is still required)
Hazel had no self-respect left.
She liked that Gareth was so obviously jealous. Sure, he’d acted like an idiot, but he’d acted like an idiot because of her, and a primitive, stupid part of her had enjoyed that fact.
“Oh God, what’s wrong with me?” she muttered, shaking her head.
“Funny. I was just about to ask you the same question.”
Hazel flinched and whirled around. Gareth had caught up to her.
Great. She needed distance from him to deal with her ridiculous feelings, not closeness, even though it had been too long since she’d last enjoyed his closeness.
They’d spent so much time in bed over the last two weeks that four nights alone had suddenly seemed like an eternity.
What was more, the man smelled so incredibly good that she wanted to stop and bury her nose in the crook of his neck…
No!
No, no, no.
“What do you want, Gareth?” she asked with a sigh, pausing in front of the door to the women’s restrooms before looking at him with what she hoped was an impatient and not-at-all longing look.
His expression, at least, was something no one would have described as longing.
Tense and pissed off was a much better description.
“Was that your ex-boyfriend just now?”
“Yes.” She jutted out her chin defiantly. “Why?”
“Are you still sleeping with him?”
“That’s none of your business.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Yes, it is, because I’m sleeping with you now.”
“Gareth!” she hissed, looking around in alarm. They were in a public hallway, damn it!
“What?” he asked with false innocence. “Am I saying or doing something to make you uncomfortable? Just like I’d be uncomfortable if you were f…”
“Oh, dear God,” she interrupted loudly as she ripped open the nearest door and shoved him into the room beyond. Room was too generous a term, though; they were standing in a janitor’s closet.
Groaning, Hazel threw her head back before flicking the light switch with her fist and closing the door. “A utility closet? Seriously? Why do you have a clichéd janitor's closet on this floor?”
“What the hell is clichéd about a janitor's closet?” Gareth asked, confused.
Hmm. The guy obviously didn’t read smut. “Gare, you can’t just go trumpeting around that we’re sleeping together! That’s breach of contract.”
“No one was around. And the only one who breached the contract was you when you called me Mr. Snark.”
She opened her mouth, perplexed, but he was right. “That wasn’t…I just…”
“…you just broke the rules,” he added coolly, leaning against a shelf with his arms crossed.
He didn't seem to notice that the shelf held a row of urinal cakes. God, only Gareth Clark managed not to look foolish in a suit and tie among cleaning supplies. “But you know…” he added darkly, “maybe I’ll skip the punishment if you answer my question.”
She rolled her eyes and sagged against the door behind her, creating more space between them. “No, I’m not sleeping with Simon anymore, Gare. Good heavens.”
She saw his shoulders relax ever so slightly. “When were you with him?”
“Last year, for a few months.”
“Why did you break up with him?”
“How do you know he didn’t dump me?”
“Because the guy’s obviously still half in love with you,” he pressed. “So?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“It’s simply a question.’
“One I don’t want to answer.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“Why did you break up with him?”
Because he wasn’t you.
Her heart clenched, and her palms were suddenly sweating. She hadn’t said it aloud. The words hadn’t made it up her dry throat.
But they were stuck in her mind, and that alone made her adrenaline level rise and her skin suddenly feel too tight.
This wasn’t good. She knew why she hadn’t responded to Gareth’s texts over the last few days. It was because they had made her smile, and she had wanted to respond immediately. It had become too much, too quickly.
“Gareth, you hardly know why I broke up with you. So why are you so interested in Simon?” she asked, wearily.
Gareth blinked, perplexed. “What? What are you talking about?”
Shit. She shouldn’t have said that.
“Gareth, I’ll see you at 7 p.m. Maybe we should just not talk at all tonight while we…”
“Why do you want to meet with him again, Hazel?” he asked urgently.
Because she felt incredibly guilty. Simon was the nicest guy in the world and she hadn’t even been able to give him a proper reason for breaking up with him.
He tilted his head. “Are you into that guy?”
A lump formed in her throat. Yes, she was afraid she was still into that guy. But they weren’t talking about the same guy. “Like you care.”
“Oh, but I do,” he whispered, his feet touching hers as he pushed off the shelf.
Her stomach tightened.
“I wish I didn’t. Believe me, I hate even thinking about it, but…I do care about you. I especially care if you’re sleeping with other guys while you’re sleeping with me.”
She swallowed. “Gareth, just because we sleep together doesn’t mean you can lay claim to me.”
“I want a new clause,” he murmured, leaning slowly toward her. He placed his hand next to her head. “An exclusivity clause. For the time we are sleeping together.”
“No.” She didn’t want to sleep with anyone else, but she didn’t want him to know that. He already had too much power over her.
“It would apply to me too, you know,” he murmured, his other hand landing on the other side of her head.
“So?” she asked hoarsely, her heart rate quickening. “Why should I care?”
“Ah. So you wouldn’t care if I did this to every woman here?” he whispered, gently kissing her neck and jaw and tugging at her earlobe with his teeth.
A treacherous shudder ran through her body. “Sure, go ahead,” she murmured despite herself, pressing herself harder against the door. “I wouldn’t care.”
“What about this?” He slid his hands down her arms and back up her torso, brushing his lips lightly against hers.
Her breathing grew shallow as he ran his fingers under her breasts, undid a button, and traced her collarbone with his index fingers. He traced the edge of her bra, still kissing her, but not really kissing her. He was just giving her a taste until she wanted it all.
No. She would kill him if he did this to anyone else.
“I don’t care,” she breathed, even as she arched her body toward him.
God, she loved how hard he’d gotten from just this innocent touching.
“Is that it? You wouldn’t care if this wasn’t your skirt…” He bunched the fabric around her hips before running his hands up her thighs and scratching at the sheer pantyhose. “…or if I asked another woman to spread her legs for me?”
Her feet slid apart of their own accord as he teased the inside of her thighs, moving higher and higher up with his rough fingertips.
“Gareth, we’re at work. We’re not allowed to…”
“I don’t care,” he whispered, rubbing her hard through the fabric of her pantyhose. “You’ve been gone too long.”
Hazel gasped, her knees threatening to buckle, but Gareth slid one of his thighs between hers, holding her upright.
“If we’re going to break rules today,” he murmured – and the next moment, there was a ripping sound. He’d torn a hole in the crotch of her hose. “I’d better do it properly.” He lowered his mouth to hers, dipping his tongue between her lips and his finger inside her.
Hazel sank helplessly onto his thigh, her back pressed against the door, while Gareth rubbed his thumb over her clit and thrust into her a second time, this time with his index and middle finger.
Heat built rapidly within her, intensified by Gareth’s tongue and teeth on her neck, and his devilish hands, until she…until she almost…
“But you know, if you don’t care if I do this to someone else…” he whispered in her ear and then abruptly withdrew his fingers, “...maybe I should give up my nonexistent standards altogether. This arrangement doesn’t work for me if you’re sleeping with other men at the same time.”
“What?” Her eyes widened. “No! Don’t stop.”
He took a step back. “That’s my condition, Hazel.”
“What? No! Gareth, quit this bullshit.” She slid her hands into his hair. “You can’t turn me on and then call it quits! I…I need you. Now.”
“Hm, that’s too bad,” he said, unfazed, his hands in his pockets. “Because you called me Mr. Snark, violating our contract. I think this is a fitting punishment.”
“Fitting? Torture is illegal, Gareth!”
“Not according to our contract. So we should stop here. After all, we’re at work and…”
“Oh, no…” She pulled his head toward her and kissed the words from him open-mouthed. “No, no. We won’t stop.” She might implode if they did, so she wrapped a leg around his hip and pressed the heel of her shoe into his butt, rubbing herself against his hard length.
But Gareth didn’t react. He merely smiled against her lips, letting her continue, but his hands remained in his pockets, not touching her where she needed them.
“Is that a challenge?” she asked quietly. “Because I’d think twice about challenging me.”
His smile widened. “I’m not sleeping with you until you agree that I’m the only one.”
She licked her lips, lowered her leg, and nodded slowly. “Right.” She slid her hand down his button placket until it reached his belt and slowly rubbed him with the base of her wrist through his trousers, up and down.
She heard Gareth’s breathing quicken, but he kept his hands at his sides, staring into her eyes, not moving.
Slowly, she unbuckled his belt. “Can you really resist, Gare? Just to punish me?”