I’m still trembling in aftershocks of my climax as he withdraws, and we both sigh at the sudden rush of cool air. He’s lying on top of me, and both of us are struggling to breathe in the aftermath of such pleasure.
He turns his cheek, tickling my face with his hair, and rests his head on my chest. “Wow.” I feel the breath more than hear the word, but I echo it. “This is probably the wrong time to remember we didn’t use a condom.”
“On the pill,” I answer. I’m glad for it now, for the warmth of his come inside me. Proof that we made love.
“That’s…Good,” he says at last. His voice is sleepy, satiated. “I’ll be thinking about this the whole time I’m away.”
The weeks apart will give me a chance to talk to Tasha. Plus, it will allow me to find out what I feel for Beck when I’m not half-crazed with lust. I consider all the conversations we can have, what this could be like between us. “Maybe I can send you some photos so you don’t forget me.” I’m teasing, but the way he reacts makes me consider actually doing it.
Beck laughs and kisses me once more. “You’re going to sext your boss?”
I ogle him, letting my gaze drag up and down Beck’s body as much as it can in our position. “If your boss looked like mine, you’d sext him.”
“I think I’ll stick to my secretary.”
It has been five weeks since we fucked on the rooftop couch. Five weeks since Beck dropped me off at my house while I wore his button-down to hide the fact he ruined my blouse. Five long weeks of using his shirt as a pillow and trying not to miss him. Try is the operative word.
I knew his being gone for more than a month was going to feel like forever. What I had not anticipated was that the company doesn’t need me. Huntsworth Industries is not used to Beck having a secretary, so my tasks were minimal in his absence. I spent my first week alone, spinning around in my office chair as I waited for the phone to ring. Boredom had me venturing out on my breaks to meet other staff members and try to make friends.
When the second week arrived, I brought in a sketch pad and my design tools. The third, I spent on the phone making my own plans for having an art show. So, yes, I did rely on the fact that I’m the personal assistant to the CEO of Huntsworth Industries in order to the secure a meeting with the gallery owner, but it was my art that actually clinched the deal. It is still an amazing sensation to have someone want to not only look at my art but be interested in hosting a show for me. These last two weeks, I’ve been daydreaming about my show and working on advertising it.
In my copious amount of free time at the office, I’ve been helping out the other executive level assistant. She is a widower in her early fifties, and is very sweet, but sort of clueless, when it comes to anything but the basics of technology. While it wasn’t like the horror stories I’ve heard from my former classmates teaching their parents how to use a computer, Donna was unlikely to learn easier ways to do her work without me prodding her along. She has a daughter a few years older than me who went through that technophobic phase with her a while ago, saving me the trouble. I showed Donna how to make doubled-sided copies without reloading the paper each time, that she could use a list-serve for her frequently emailed groups, as well as how to set up her online calendar to sync with the one used by the company in our email program.
Grateful for the help, Donna has been misguidedly trying to set me up with her son. He’s a year younger than me, just graduated from college, and is working as a substitute teacher here in town. If not for Beck, I might have accepted just for a bit of fun. The pictures she keeps showing me have gone from being sort of cute to annoying after a few weeks, though. My lack of a concrete reason beyond not having time to date is not enough for Donna, and she’s been pushing the issue. She really is like having a well-meaning but nosy mom at work. I traded in my lunch times with Donna for working out in the gym to avoid that messiness. Besides, I want to keep in shape with all the amazing food the cafeteria provides for employees.
I noticed on my first paycheck that money for my meals wasn’t being deducted. Thinking it an obvious mistake, I called down to the kitchen and was told that while employees do have to pay for snacks and any extras, the basic meals are considered a part of the full-time benefits package. The tamale pie was going to go straight to my hips if I continued having it every Tuesday. I’ve resisted the cafeteria dessert bar with more toppings than a candy aisle, but it calls my name each time I walk by. My sweet tooth gets stronger each day and my resolve that much weaker.