We clinked our glasses together, our eyes meeting across the table. I was trying to quell my sexual appetite. I turned my eyes back toward the chicken. “So. We meet again,” I said, my voice a bit jocular.
“So we do,” he murmured. His eyes were fueled with a sense of knowledge. “How is your first real day back?”
I nodded. “It’s good. I hired a few girls back. Girls I unjustly fired last week.”
Xavier nodded, not faltering. “Good. It’s good to stick with our own. We’re a team, after all.”
I blinked toward him, knowing that he was speaking about me.
“And what about Jason?” he asked then. “Has he given you any grief?”
I nodded briefly. “He’s always lurking around the corner, ready to do anything, to say anything to me to make me feel this small.” I held an air’s inch between my thumb and forefinger. “But I’m growing used to it.”
“We still need to do something about it,” Xavier murmured.
I nodded. “That we do.” A pause hung between us. I ripped at the chicken and brought the warm meat to my mouth, chewing. So glad to have something to do with my hands, my mouth.
Finally, I spoke. “We have a great deal to discuss about us, as well.” Our eyes met in this moment, and I felt that drive once more. My throat caught. I wanted to kiss him, to laugh with him. Why were we struggling like this?
Xavier placed his fork on his plate, upside down. He brought his fingers together and laced them. He peered at me closely. “What do you suppose we do?”
I shrugged my shoulders lightly. “Anything we want, I suppose.”
Xavier’s voice came in husky syllables. “You know I love you, don’t you?” he asked.
I nodded, biting my lip. “I do. I do know.” I peered down at my plate. “I think I love you, too.”
“I fucked up. You know I fucked up. I just—“
I held up my hand. “You were under so much pressure. And I came at you with too much. I won’t—I won’t do it again.”
“You better not,” he said, his eyes glinting with humor. His eyes gestured toward the floor beside us, where I’d been dancing only a few moments before. “You want to dance again? With a partner?”
My eyebrows rose high on my forehead. “I’m not sure. Does our chemistry really go that strong?”
He leaned toward me, his fingers brushing against mine on the table. “I think we have something here, Amanda. Something physical, something chemical. Something that was surely meant to be.”
I felt my heart beating faster, harder in my chest. I stood suddenly and found myself face-to-face with him in the center of the floor. The plates still steamed with food, but I had forgotten my hunger. I brought my hand through his; I felt his hand at my back. We began to dance to no music, to complete silence. He twirled me, his eyes continually on mine. I felt the heat of his body; I felt the sexual need from him—his need for me.
“I think about you constantly,” he murmured. “Your body. Your mind. Everything about you.”
I didn’t dare turn away from him, to reduce my eye contact. This was our time together—our long-lost moment. I didn’t even have the words for him. I came closer to him and propped my breasts on his chest, closing my eyes.
Suddenly, he twirled me into the sidewall, between two mirrors. In the yonder mirror, I could see myself, the back of Xavier’s head. He moved his hand around to unzip my dress and drag it down my body, toward the ground. In the mirror, I could see his mouth form around my nipple. I could see my hand mold over his head, guiding him, needing him. I closed my eyes as he removed my tights, tossing them to the ground. For a moment, I remembered that we needed to get to a meeting in just 10 minutes—that they’d be expecting us: the president and the campaign manager. But as he descended his tongue over my hot pussy; as he placed his fingers at my G-spot; as I felt my body give way to feeling, I couldn’t care about that fucking meeting. Not for a single moment.
I brought my fingers toward his buttons and undid them in a mad rip, bringing the shirt back behind his shoulders. His chest gleamed with sweat, with desire. As he continued rubbing at my clit, making me go crazy, I moved his pants and boxers from his waist and found my hand around his pulsing cock. I started giving him a hand job, feeling the pulsing blood, the desire, the need behind it. It was so hard in my hand, and I wanted it inside me, ramming into that G-spot he always hit so well, taking me to my climax.
He wrapped his lips around mine, bringing his hand around my ass and cupping it safely. I felt like a part of him, like he was molding my body into his. I caught my legs around his waist and pushed his dick into my pussy, becoming one with him. He shoved himself—hard—into me, and I felt the wall of mirrors around me shake. I watched in the mirror as he fucked me, pound, pound, pound, into the wall. With each thrust, I could see his ass clench; I could see my eyes fill with pleasure. I called into the room, not even caring about being quiet. After all, this moment was safe from all the others. I had lost any comprehension about why we shouldn’t be together.
“Yeah, baby,” Xavier began. “I love you. I love your body, your mind. I love your ass.” He slapped it then, sending vibes of pleasure through my spine, through my pussy. I called into the room, bringing my foot up as he fucked me. As he thrust further, deeper, I found that I lost control. My foot erupted too close to one of the table’s plates, and the chicken fell to the floor. The plate crashed into a thousand small pieces. I screamed lightly, and Xavier placed his hand over my mouth, making me be quiet. Feeling taken advantage of, feeling like he had control over me, made the pleasure more tactile, more real. I cried out, feeling tears fall from my eyes.
“Fuck me. Fuck me harder,” I murmured, shaking and allowing my breasts to bounce—boom, boom, boom, against his chest. He caught one of them in his mouth and brought his tongue over the hard, revving nipple.
Suddenly, Xavier spun me around. “Touch your toes,” he murmured into my ear. His breath was so hot. I leaned down and touched them, and then, all at once, I felt him enter my pussy from behind. He brought his fingers around my pussy. He caught my G-spot with his dick and revved into it, making my body fuel with pleasure. I wanted to start crying, to tell him that my body was his forever.
He whispered then, that he was going to come—that he was moments away. “I love you, Amanda,” he whispered, a bit of desperation coursing through his words. “I love you. Know that.”
And suddenly, his thrust caught me into a wave of euphoria, of pleasure. I felt the orgasm course through my spine, through my breasts, and burn with such passion at my pussy. I heard him as he came, as well. The orgasm rattled through us both, making us seem like a single organism, a single monster of sexual drive and passion.