The Beast was busy, and Susan got so distracted she forgot she was supposed to have a steamy session with Chris. He also chose to let her be. He walked in and saw how crowded it was. Chris wasn't one to be considerate, but he had long since accepted that when it comes to relationships, his brain is useless.
"Hey," he greeted as he slid into the stool in front of her, just minutes before her time off. She sighed.
"I didn't even have time to look for you," she said, placing a glass in front of him, almost pouting.
"It's fine, you were busy," he replied before thanking her for the drink. She frowned.
"You are suddenly a gentleman," she commented.
"I'm being boyfriend material," he replied.
"You make it sound like I'm your girlfriend," she said.
"You're not?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.
"I am?" she asked, raising her brow.
"I'm here, having this stupid conversation with you at four in the morning. Are you mine?" he asked. It was more of a statement than a question, and she understood.
"You wouldn't want another keeping your girl company then," she replied, giving him a look that made him pause mid-sip.
"I wouldn't," he agreed, and she chuckled.
"I'll be out in a minute," she smiled, and he nodded. As he walked out of the Beast, he felt he had a new purpose and it revolved around her.
Susan felt different, like she was finally making her own decisions. She never wondered what would have happened if she rejected Chris, but she didn't think of rejecting him either.
Two weeks later, Susan found herself laughing and feeling comfortable in Chris's arms. She couldn't believe he was this funny and actually sweet. He was still an ass here and there, but she looked forward to his company. He always drove her to work and picked her up. There had been a few people trying to talk to her, but he told her to ignore them, promising they wouldn't force her to interact. He was right they soon stopped coming by.
"You know we can't keep eating sandwiches every time we're at my place, right?" Susan said as she cut the crust off and sliced the sandwich into triangles.
"Why not?" he asked, picking one up.
"I can make pasta. Or pancakes," she offered.
"That'll take up time," he said matter-of-factly, setting his half-eaten sandwich down before getting up.
"Time for what?" she frowned. They always stayed at hers on her days off before he left for work.
"For us." He took the sandwich from her hand, tossed it onto the plate, and connected their lips in a sweet, slow kiss. He pulled away.
"You'll be late for work," Susan murmured, fingers sliding into his hair.
"I'm the boss. Everyone can fucking wait," he moaned as she tugged on his hair.
"You make me hot all over when you curse," she whispered, biting his lower lip.
"Make me curse some more," he growled, lifting her off the floor.
In her tiny bedroom, the air pulsed with heat, their moans tangled in the shadows. Susan's fingers curled tight in his hair, tugging as Chris devoured her, his mouth and hands working her body until she was unravelling beneath him. Her breath caught, back arching, the sound of her own cry filling the room.
"God, baby…" his voice was husky, reverent, vibrating against her skin. "You taste so damn good."
Her chest heaved, her voice breaking between gasps. "I want… to taste you."
He lifted his head, his lips wet against her thigh, eyes burning into hers. "It's all about you," he murmured against her skin.
"Then let me," she whispered, gaze daring and hungry. "Let me taste you."
For a beat, he hesitated, chest rising fast. Then he surrendered, lying back on the bed with a groan. "Drive me insane, Susan."
She smirked, tugging off his pants and boxers in one fluid motion. He was already hard, and her eyes darkened at the sight. Locking eyes with him, she leaned down and dragged her tongue slowly along his length, savouring the way his breath hitched.
"God…" Chris's head fell back, a deep groan tearing from him.
She smiled against him, then took him deeper, her tongue and lips working him until he was shaking beneath her. His hand slid into her hair, not guiding just clinging, helpless against the storm she was pulling from him.
When she finally pulled back, her lips swollen and her breathing raging.
"You're up?" he murmured.
She lifted her head, smiling. He glanced at the clock 2:05 PM.
"I have to go," he said, but she felt a pang of disappointment.
"Why the sad look?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes, climbing off the bed, naked. He tried to grab her, but she danced away, putting on a shirt.
"How can you not have a phone?" he asked, still surprised.
"It's not like anyone's looking for me," she said, perched on her vanity.
"Let's make it a date," he whispered, buttoning his shirt.
"A date?" she asked, curious.
"Phone shopping," he murmured, stepping closer. She sighed but let him pull her close.
"Will you be back early?" she asked, her tone soft, almost vulnerable.
"Tell me to stay and I will," he replied, searching her eyes.
She pouted. "You have work. I can wait," she said, trying to mask the flutter in her chest.
"As you wish," he said, running his hand up and down her waist. She waved him off, heading back to her bed.
The smell of him lingered in the sheets, and she smiled but her stomach twisted with unease. A heavy knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Who is it?" she called, narrowing her eyes at the door.
"Police. A criminal ran into the building. We are checking each apartment," came the voice. She opened the door and froze.