In The Black

1 Denver   Work! Work! Work! Work! Work! Rihanna sung rhythmically through the small speakers I kept on top of my desk.  I gyrated my hips throwing my head from side to side as I danced along to Rihanna and Drakes new single.  The door to my office was closed, allowing me the privacy to let me hair down, quite literally, as I enjoyed my last few hours at the office.  Not only was it Friday but this time tomorrow, I’d be sitting in a private cabana sipping a mojito in a bathing suit that covered just enough to not be arrested for public indecency but not enough to leave anything to the imagination.  Since it wasn’t my usual attire of business suits and dresses, I deemed it perfect for a single girl’s vacation.             The phone on my desk rang, interrupting my thoughts of beaches and alcohol and I crossed the room in annoyance to see who it was.  The red button flashed on the telephone pad indicating that it was my receptionist, Lynne, calling.             “Nope!”  I said out loud choosing to ignore her call.  I had an hour left and I wasn’t going to spend it consulting with another client or anything work related. It probably wasn’t the best attitude to have as the Chief Marketing Officer for one of the top consulting firms in Washington D.C., but I’d already put in eighty hours of work this week, which included a twenty-hour day on Sunday and decisive to say, I was done with anything work related.             The ringing stopped and with that I turned the volume on the speakers a little louder, careful not to disrupt the rest of my colleagues who were still putting in hard hours.  I walked across my office, my heels dragging against the carpet, which I hated, I’ve ruined a decent number of pumps over the years and I sent a mental reminder to have it removed once I’d returned.  I slid opened the filing cabinet and retrieved two files that were separated, each in its own leather padfolio and tucked them under my arm.  I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t bring work along with me while I was away, but they were both multimillion-dollar accounts that required my attention vacation or no vacation and I just couldn’t bring myself to leave them behind for two weeks.  The door to my office swung open, practically slamming against the wall in its halt.  Shockingly I wasn’t startled by that abrupt entrance, because the only person I’d known to make a grand entrance that way was my best friend Stevie Lawrence.              “Sending your calls to voicemail already I see?” entering she closed the door behind her.  Stevie and I had been best friends for as long as I could remember, and for as long as I could remember she was unapologetically herself.  She was one of the firm’s lawyers, so she put in as many hours as I did a week, sometimes more.  Most of her time consisted of research, fine tuning legal documents or putting in many hours in the court room.  Stevie was a hard ass, and never allowed the fact that she had a v****a get in the way of her job.  She rubbed elbows with a lot of men and being the only female lawyer, our firm employed she worked even harder to hold her position. Stevie was taller than me, thanks to a great pair of legs that she had no problem flaunting, along with the grueling hours she’d put in at the gym to keep them toned.  Add in a healthy frame and a flawless shoulder length bob and you’d swear she was made for television.             “Vacation starts in less than an hour, I couldn’t risk getting caught up with another client.”  I answered as I walked towards my desk, shoving the files that were tucked underneath my arm inside of my bag.             “Ugh! I wish I were going.  I could use a f*****g break.  The McKesson case is kicking my ass.” She huffed, pressing the bridge of her nose.  The McKesson case was kicking everyone’s ass the past three weeks, it was one of the larger cases that we were trying to wrap up.  The McKesson group were a commercial construction company that were growing at a steady rate, however they were losing money as well as hard working employees and were falling into debt.  It was one of the files I’d planned on taking along with me on my trip.             “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here.”  She waved off, “Are we still on for drinks later? I could use a drink or two or three.”             “You and me both.”             “Great! Because not only do I need a drink, but I need a wingman.”  Stevie said with a wink and I knew what that meant.  Stevie never needed a wing man to get a date, but it was her subliminal way of letting me know that she’d be entertaining a one-night stand tonight and that I should call her in the morning for the details as she did her walk of shame.  She was a maneater in her own right, claiming to not have time for a real relationship or even taking the time out to see the same man more than once, albeit her work schedule was more than hectic and time wasn’t on her side, I sometimes wondered if she had any plans on ever taking any of her many conquests on a second date.             “Mmm!” I nodded.  “So, it’s going to be that kind of night?” I asked, grabbing and stuffing some more paperwork into my bag.             “That’s putting it lightly.” She says stretching her arms above her head.             “I’m pretty f*****g sure I should spend the next week in my office until this case is said and done, but I’m ready to call it a day if you are.”  I glanced at the time on my computer screen, I still had another forty-five minutes left, but who the f**k was I kidding?  I’d checked out long before I’d stepped foot into my office this morning and was ready to start my vacation.             “I’m game.” I answered.             “Good! Meet me in the lobby in five and oh, this stays here.”  Quickly reaching over my desk, Stevie snatched the McKesson file out of my bag before I could react.  She tucked it under her arm and walked towards the door yanking it open.               “You’re on vacation starting now. No working of anything kind, unless of course it’s your v****a muscles.”  She said with a wink before exiting.  As much as I wanted to protest, I knew that she was right, a vacation was a vacation and bringing work along with me defeated the purpose of it all.  Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling of all the work that would be waiting for me once I returned.  I drummed my fingers along my desk trying to figure out the best way to get the McKesson file back into my possession and on the plane without Stevie knowing but came up short.  She was a lawyer and a damned good one, there wasn’t much of anything that people were able to sneak by her.  Shrugging my shoulders, I hefted the strap to my messenger bag and tucked my purse underneath my arm and left my office, figuring getting that file back was a lost cause – s**t who knows maybe I would find a man strolling along on the beach, alone, to occupy my time.  Chuckling to myself I realized that getting the file back was more likely than finding a single d**k on the beach.     ***                 Two hours and three glasses of wine later, Stevie and I had ditched our blazers and prim look for a more two-ladies-on-the-verge-of-needing-an-uber look.  We sat at a small table towards the back of bar, figuring it was a safer spot than sitting directly in front of the window that would leave us exposed to clients and colleagues.  Wearing lowcut camisoles that exposed our bra straps underneath with a bottle of opened wine in the middle of our table and laughing louder than two chicks at a comedy club, it was safe to say that it wasn’t an image we wanted anyone to see.  My cell phone vibrated against the wooden table practically hitting the floor before I snatched it up.             “Is that J.R.?”  Stevie asked.  I nodded my head and typed out a quick reply to J.R.’s message before placing it face down onto the table.             “What the f**k is it with you two?”  Stevie asked topping off our wine glasses.  I shrugged my shoulders and took a sip of my wine to buy myself some time before answering her question because in all honesty, I didn’t know what our situation was.  Jared Reese, or J.R., joined our firm a year ago as the Chief Financial Officer, moving from New York to D.C.  No wife, no kids, no baggage, no drama.  No problem. Except that our relationship had been a complicated one, since the moment we stayed at work after hours working on a project that was like the McKesson case, as it too was difficult to close, and… I tripped fell and landed on his… fingers.  Yes, that’s right his fingers.  I’d made it a rule to never get involved with a colleague and for the most part, I’d kept my rule intact for the entire eight years I’d worked for the firm until J.R. joined us.  There’d always been some unspoken s****l tension between us, handshakes that lasted longer than the norm, lingering looks that were inappropriate for corporate America along with a few lunch and dinner dates that went beyond boardroom conversation, until it all came to a head and boiled over into one big orgasm.  I’d never forget the goosebumps that formed on my spine the night J.R. kneeled in front of my swivel chair pulling me close towards him.   My mind screamed telling me to put a stop to whatever would happen next, but I was horny, overworked, and a little curious.  So, I pushed the thought from my mind while his hands snaked up my thigh stopping at the base of my p***y.  I spread my legs a little further, giving him more access and with his free hand J.R. inched my skirt up exposing my thighs as he slid my thong to the side, taking his thumb and making small circles over my c**t forcing a moan from my lips.  I inched my hips towards the edge of the chair, his fingers sliding into my wet center, pulling my excitement from me repeatedly. I wasn’t sure if it was the excitement of just how hard his fingers alone made me c*m or if I was just going through a terrible dry spell, but I leaned forward and kissed him in the heat of the moment.  Another rule broken just like that.  Our kissed lasted just like our handshakes, and stares did.  Too long to be considered appropriate.  Pulling his fingers from my folds, he brought them to his mouth and sucked which brought out a side of me that I thought I’d harbored, the animalistic side, and before I could stop myself my hands were pulling his belt a loose and fumbling to get his pants undone until the sound of keys unlocking the door halted us in our tracks.             “s**t!” In our fifteen minutes of four play we’d forgotten that this was normally the time the cleaning crew would come around to do their jobs.  I straightened myself as quickly as my orgasm-soaked mind would allow me, and J.R. did the same.  An older friendly petite woman entered pulling a cleaning cart along with her – her eyes going wide as she saw us.             “Oh! I’m sorry for interrupting, everyone is usually gone by now.  Would you mind if I grabbed the trash on my way out?  I can finish everything else tomorrow.”  Grabbing the waste bin, J.R. used it to shield his hard on as he moved towards her. My eyes were glued to it, and I wondered if she could see the look of s****l frustration and shame on my face.  She exited just as quickly as she came, but by then the mood had shifted.  I went home that night, alone, and finished pleasuring myself in the shower to the idea of f*****g J.R. on the conference room table.  We never gotten the chance to finish what we started.  A heated kiss here and there, inappropriate yet unrecognizable glances in meeting or when we passed each other in the hallways but that was it. Besides sexting almost every night, we sat in limbo.  A sexually frustrated pit to be exact.               “It’s complicated.” Was my only response to Stevie’s question, because it was the truth.  If J.R. and I were meant to be then something that should come so easy to others wouldn’t be so f*****g complicated for us.              “He mentioned he might stop by.” I threw in for good measure and waited to see what Stevie would say.  She wasn’t a c**k blocker and she wasn’t normally the one to point fingers on who I should and shouldn’t sleep with but when it came to J.R. she usually had some reservations about us.  She perched her lips, no doubt thinking about what she’d say next, but instead she shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her wine.             “Should we order something to soak up this alcohol?” She asked, her eyes purposely avoiding mine.             “You know, for a lawyer you have a pretty shitty poker face.”             “I wasn’t trying to hide it.” She responded still avoiding eye contact.             “Just say it, you think J.R. and I are a bad idea.” Closing her menu, her eyes shot up to mine and she took a deep breath before she continued.             “You want to know what I think? Well I think – “             “Evening ladies.”  J.R. interrupted, standing over our table like a big sexy dark cloud. His crisp navy collared shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow and his shirt untucked.  It appeared that he too was ready for the weekend.             “I hope that I’m not interrupting.” He added.             “Of course, you are but you’re always welcomed as long as you buy the next round.”  Stevie greeted.  I was thankful that she’d changed the subject but knew that I’d have to circle back to it one of these days, whether I wanted to hear it or not.  J.R. pulled his chair closed to mine, wrapping an arm around the back of my chair as he sipped on a seven and seven.  Stevie eyed his closeness but shoved it away by ordering another bottle of wine along with fried calamari.  I listened as the two of them talked about work, only chiming in when necessary, my mind was preoccupied with the conversation that Stevie and I were having prior to J.R.’s arrival.  It wasn’t that I needed her approval of J.R. and my relationship, or whatever it was, but I did want her support.  We’d been floating around in the unknown for the past year and I wanted to put a label on our relationship.  A relationship that we’d have to keep private from the firm since there was a strict no romantic relationship with colleague’s policy in place.  Which I guess was tolerable, however I didn’t know many couples who enjoyed hiding their relationship, but I also knew that neither J.R. or I had any plans of quitting our jobs for the possibility of a relationship.  The gentle squeeze of my arm pulled me from my thoughts, and I was somewhat thankful for it, since I wasn’t in the mood to fall down the rabbit hole while I was supposed to be getting into vacation mode.  J.R.’s nose pressed to my temple and the sweet smell of the seven and seven on his lips made me dizzy as he whispered in my ear.             “Is everything ok?” Nodding my head, I forced myself to keep my eyes from closing and drifting off into another daydream of finger f*****g and taboo relationships.             “I’m good.  Where did Stevie go?”  I asked, realizing that Stevie was no longer sitting at the table with us.             “By the bar.” J.R. answered, jerking his head towards her direction.  I turned to see Stevie standing less than an inch away from a guy who looked like he spent most of his time in a gym since even in his business suit he couldn’t hide the mounds of muscles he held.  The connection between them was more familiar than the connection between J.R. and me, but Stevie was gifted that way.  She was the better flirt between the two of us and I knew that she’d be leaving with him soon.  I checked my phone, realizing that it was later than I’d thought especially since I hadn’t packed a single thing yet due to my busy week.  The feeling of J.R.’s thigh brushing against mine had given me an idea.  If Stevie was going to go home with someone tonight, then so should I.  At least this way, I could do the walk of shame right into a two-week vacation.  I mean what’s the harm in that?