Chapter 12 #4
Alexandra's eyes flashed with challenge, her free hand coming up to grip Simone's wrist. Simone squeezed a fraction harder, leaning down to capture her mouth in a desperate kiss, and slid her hand back between Alexandra's legs.
She was still wet from before, swollen and sensitive, and Simone's fingers slipped inside easily, three this time, stretching her even more.
Alexandra moaned into the kiss, her hips lifting to meet each thrust, and her hand—the one not gripping Simone's wrist—reached down to touch her clit, fingers brushing Simone's.
Simone watched, obsessed with the sight: Alexandra's composure shattered as her hand moved without grace, chasing her own release while Simone fucked her harder.
The second orgasm ripped through Alexandra faster than the first, her body seizing and pussy clamping down on Simone's fingers as she came with a guttural sound, muffled against Simone's shoulder.
Wetness coated Simone's hand, dripping onto the desk, and she kept moving, drawing it out until her body slackened.
Alexandra wrestled free, shoving Simone onto her back across the desk.
Papers stuck to Simone's sweat-damp skin, the wood cool against her spine, and Alexandra was on her in seconds, her mouth latching onto Simone's neck, biting down as her hands finally found purchase. One hand dove between her legs, Alexandra’s fingers plunging in deep.
Simone's body betrayed her control, her hips canting up, and she grabbed Alexandra's hair, pulling her down for a kiss that was more teeth than anything.
Alexandra's fingers were everywhere—curled deeply inside her, thumb grinding against Simone's clit in erratic circles.
It was too much, too raw, and Simone's desire deepened, a physical pull that made her want to devour every inch of this woman.
She bit Alexandra's shoulder hard as her own release crashed over her, waves of heat pulsing through her core while her pussy tightened involuntarily around Alexandra's fingers.
She came with a sharp cry, her body arching and nails raking down Alexandra's back in red lines.
Alexandra kept moving, drawing out Simone's aftershocks until she was gasping, then pulling her fingers free to lick them clean, eyes locked on Simone's in a way that was pure defiance.
Simone felt a surge of heat flash through her as she flipped them and buried her face between Alexandra's thighs again.
This time, she was hungrier, tongue probing deep, lapping at her folds while her hands gripped Alexandra's ass, spreading her.
Alexandra's legs draped over Simone's shoulders, heels pressing into her back, and her hands—god, those hands—clawed at the desk, then at Simone's head, pulling her closer.
The third orgasm for Alexandra built slower, her body wrung out but still fighting, hips grinding against Simone's mouth.
Simone sucked her clit hard, fingers joining her tongue in synchronized rhythm, and when Alexandra came, it was with a full-body shudder, a flood of wetness that Simone drank down.
Alexandra's cries were broken now, raw sounds that filled the empty office, echoing off the cold glass windows.
Finally, Alexandra pushed her away, her breath ragged and body slick with sweat and come.
The intensity fractured first in the silence that followed, heavy and charged. Simone's heart pounded, her body buzzing with the afterglow, but awareness crept back in. This was Alexandra's office, and what they'd just done hung in the air like a signed contract neither could back out of.
The room came back in pieces. Simone was aware of her own breathing first, then the cold from the air conditioning against her shoulder blade where her blouse had ridden up, then the distance between her body and Alexandra's.
They were no longer touching. The separation had happened in the last thirty seconds, a mutual withdrawal, and the air that filled the space between them now felt different than it had before.
Alexandra was already reassembling herself. Simone had watched a lot of people recover from things—bad deals, bad news, the moment in a negotiation when the floor bottomed out and there was nothing left to catch them—and she had never seen anyone do it with this kind of speed.
Alexandra straightened her sweater and pushed her hair back from her face with one hand, a gesture so controlled it could have been rehearsed.
She picked up the wine glass that had tipped, spreading a dark stain over her notes, and set it upright.
Every motion was precise and economical, a woman restoring order to a room she'd spent her career keeping orderly.
Her hands were perfectly steady now, and that was the thing that hit Simone hardest. Three minutes ago, they had been on her body with raw desperation, and now they were folding a napkin into quarters and placing it in a wastebasket.
The shift between those two versions was so fast and so complete that it told Simone everything she needed to know about how many times Alexandra had done this.
“I think,“ Alexandra said, her voice level, “that we should acknowledge what just happened and agree that it doesn't change the terms of our professional relationship.“
Simone almost admired it. The phrasing was immaculate, as though they were amending a contract.
“Agreed,“ Simone said. Her own voice sounded foreign to her. “The ceasefire proposal stands on its own merits. Tonight doesn't affect it.“
“Good.“
Alexandra was behind her desk again, putting it between them like a barricade, and she stood with her hands flat on the desk.
Simone was still leaning against the windowsill with her arms crossed, holding herself in place.
If she uncrossed them, she knew they were going back on Alexandra's body. Her desire hadn’t diminished by being acted on.
If anything, it was immeasurably worse because now it had specificity.
She knew the exact pressure of Alexandra's grip on the back of her neck and the low, guttural sound Alexandra had made when she had been brought over the edge.
And Simone had no idea what to do with this.
“I'll have Ruth review the framework this week,“ Alexandra said. “If the terms are workable, we can formalize the ceasefire before the December board meeting.“
“That works.“ Simone uncrossed her arms and reached for her coat on the back of the chair. She picked up her tablet and met Alexandra's eyes across the desk.
Alexandra held the eye contact. Her composure was nearly complete, but her eyes were too open, carrying something she hadn't managed to tuck away yet.
“Goodnight, Alexandra.“
“Goodnight, Simone.“
Simone turned and walked out of the office without looking back.
She pressed the elevator button and stood in the quiet and waited.
It was the hardest thing she'd done all evening.
The elevator was taking too long and the hallway was too close to that office.
Every second she stood there was a second she might turn around.
After what felt like an eternity, the elevator dinged. She stepped in and pressed the lobby button. The doors closed, and then she was alone. She put both hands flat against the elevator wall and stood there with her eyes closed and her forehead against the metal and breathed.
She walked out of the building and gasped as the cold, sharp wind hit her face.
The rain from earlier had cleared, and the sky above downtown Phoenix Ridge was open for the first time in days, thousands of stars visible between the city lights and the air carrying the salt-and-cedar smell of the coast.
She walked through the mostly empty streets, the quiet of a small city that didn't stay up late.
She felt the phantom sensations of what had happened earlier: her muscles ached, her lower lip was swollen and raw, and the ghost-pressure on her hips where Alexandra had gripped her hard enough to leave marks.
Simone walked faster. The cold was doing its work on her face and hands, pulling her back into the present.
She passed the darkened storefronts of downtown, the holiday lights in the windows not lit anymore, and the restaurants all closed or closing.
A car passed on the wet street, its headlights sweeping across the pavement before it was gone.
She turned onto the block where the Aria stood, its glass facade reflecting the streetlights, the penthouse dark at the top. She forced herself inside, went to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stood under the water until it ran cold.
She was still thinking about Alexandra’s hands and voice when she finally got into bed at midnight.
Staring at the ceiling, Simone understood, clearly and without any of the self-deception she usually relied on, that tonight had opened something vast and terrifying, and her wanting was more all-consuming now than it had been before.
They had agreed nothing would change. Simone was an exceptional liar, but tonight it wasn't enough.