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He leaned back against his truck, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you giving me the “let’s just be friends” speech again?
Because if you break up with me, we’re on to
Friday the 13
th
Part IV
, and you hate that one. It’s boring.”

I bit my lip, refusing to let him distract me with his humor.

“Would it be so bad if things were the way they were before all of this happened?”

“
Do you want that?” he demanded, and I stiffened, looking down at my feet.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to take care of me.”

“Obligated?” He took a step forward, and I let him wrap his arms around me. “Not trying to sound selfish here, but
maybe
I’m thinking a little bit about myself, too. About how much I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m giving you time and space and support. If you want me to give you distance, that’s going to kill me.”

“It’s what I need,” I
whispered. “I need your friendship.”

His jaw tightened, and he looked down. I saw the same expression on his face that I’d seen all those years ago, when I’d yelled at him for putting his lunch box in the wrong place.

“You have my friendship. I want to know if you still want to marry me.”

I pressed my forehead into his chest. “I want t
o be with you, always. Forever. But let’s stop talking about wedding stuff, okay?”

He nodded too quickly, as though he’d purposefully detached his mind from his heart.

“Just a little breathing room,” I pushed.

“Why?” h
e asked quietly. “Are you planning to see him?”

I froze, and he felt it.

“You are. You’re planning to talk to Jack,” he realized, releasing me and backing away.

“I need closure. I need to remember the good times, and not the monster that I keep picturing,” I tried, and he narrowed his eyes.

“When? Where? You know I’m going to come with you,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You
can’t
come with me.”

“You’re not going alone.”

“He’s selling the apartment. I’m signing paperwork with my lawyer. We’ll be in a public place.”

He dropped his sunglasses down to his eyes.
“When?”

“Monday.
I’m coming in for half a day, and then the appointment is at two.”

“Okay.” He jangled his keys in his hand,
turning to climb into his pickup. “I guess I’ll see you Monday then.”

I lifted my eyes hopefully, reaching to pet Joplin. “Are you coming over tomorrow?”

“I’d better not,” he answered simply. I reached for his arm, and he remained still.

“You’re mad at me. Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad, I’m frustrated. I’m trying to be patient. I think seeing him, especially now, when you’re just starting to get over him, is not a good idea. But I’m not your doctor, or your fiancé, apparently. I’m your boss. So I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

Each short sentence was blow to my heart. I cringed, reaching to run my hand over his cheek. “Our time at the beach feels like a dream. It’s where I go in my mind when I get too overwhelmed. Let me imagine us perfect for a little while longer,” I begged.

He slid his hand into my hair, tugging my face to his at the window. I hadn’t kissed him in over three weeks, and when his mouth touched mine, every nerve in my body tingled with what I knew he had to offer. “When you’re ready to stop imagining and start living, I’ll be waiting for you.”

I watched him back out of my parent’s driveway.

Sunday was a day of finality. I felt like my time to heal and mourn and wallow in self-pity had come to an end, and it was back to reality once more. True to his words, I didn’t hear from Jason at all on Sunday but got a text from Jack late Sunday evening.

I still hadn’t added him as a contact in my phone; how he’d gotten my number, I would never know.

I won’t be able to sleep tonight. I can’t wait to see you.

I started to reply to him and finally stopped, deleting his message.

Sometime around eleven, I woke up and ran for the toilet.

After empting my stomach of everything that I’d had for dinner, I dug through my bag, finding the pregnancy test I’d bought two days earlier.

I uncapped the plastic stick, peed, and waited.

In three minutes, I knew exactly where my life was
going, and fell asleep as tears of happiness streamed from the corners of my eyes to my pillow.

Monday morning came too quickly. I wore a gray pencil skirt with white pinstripes, and a ruffled, white blouse that matched.
I pulled my hair back into a bun and secured it with bobby pins. My glasses were the same color as my heels; black, and I opted to go without pantyhose since the temperature was supposed to reach 75 degrees.

Jess met me in the parking lot with coffee, linking arms with me with a grin. “I deflected all the nosy questions. As far as anyone knows, you were on a sabbatical, ea
t-pray-loving your way through Eastern Europe. Cool?”

“Cool,” I agreed, giving her a half-hug. “
Thanks, Jess. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You
’d dress like a bum in concert t-shirts all the time, and your nails would look like crap,” she replied with a grin, walking with me to my desk.

Returning to work after being out for six weeks was
harder than I’d anticipated. My desk looked like it’d been cleaned, and my rolling chair was covered with news items and handouts. “Wow. I’m really here,” I said, unpacking my laptop.

“I couldn’t stop the group card from going around. It’s just a simple “welcome back,” nothing fancy. Take it easy this morning, San. Don’t do too much.”

“I’ll be going through emails all day,” I assured her. “Is Jason here yet?”

She
shook her head. “Not yet. I’m sure he’ll come over when he gets in.”

I sipped my coffee, exchanging pleasantries with my teammates, answering inquisitive questions about where I’d been and what I’d done. Jess had apparently been weaving some pretty incredible tales about me, and I just smiled and nodded, thanking everyone for their concern.

Two hours into emails, my IM popped up from Jason.

Jason Brewer:
Sandy, can you come to my office, please?

So formal.
I narrowed my eyes, typing quickly.

Alexandra Quinn:
Am I in trouble, Principal Brewer?

Jason Brewer:
See you soon.

I sat back,
my heart thudding at the cool formality of his message. Normally I’d get the little emoticon that we’d fondly labeled “stroke face,” but today, nothing.

Alexandra Quinn:
Coming now.

I knew that I didn’t need to knock on his office door, but I did anyway. He sat at his desk, intent upon whatever he was reading on his laptop. “Hey. Come in, close the door, please.”

I sighed, pulling the door shut behind me.

“You’re kind of freaking me out, Jason.”

He slid his chair back and stood, walking toward me. He was gorgeous in his crisp, black pants and white dress shirt, and his blue tie was one that I’d gotten him for Boss’s Day last year to match his eyes.

“
How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching past me to turn the lock on his door. I shrugged, crossing my arms over my chest.

“
Okay?” I replied hesitantly.

“Your eye?” h
e urged, and I reached to touch my eyelid gently.

“Better. What’s wrong? Are you about to fire me?” I asked, forcing a nervous chuckle.

He glanced at his watch, and then at the door. “No, I’m going to fuck you. Right here, on my desk.”

My insides pooled
, and my knees locked. “Jason…”

“
You’re going to keep quiet, and you’re going to enjoy it. I want you sitting in your lawyer’s office, dripping with me, thinking about what I just did to you.”

My heart raced, and I flattened my hands against the door behind me. His eyes darkened, and her reached for my hair, pulling at a bobby pin.

“We can’t do that here,” I whispered frantically.

“Turn around.”

His words were thick with lust. I exhaled quickly, closing my eyes and turning to face the door.

He pulled another pin from my hair, and a shiver ran over my neck and down my spine.

“Walk to my desk.”

I did as he commanded. I wanted what I knew he would give me, and the same thrilling fear of knowing that, at any moment, any one of the people that we worked with could knock on the door filled me with exhilarating desire.

“Bend over, and spread your legs.”

“Jason, I’m going to be l
oud, and someone will hear us…”

“You’re not going to make a sound,” he
whispered. I jumped as I felt his hands around my face, and I realized that he had the ball gag from the box. “Open your mouth, Sandy.”

God, his authoritative voice was stealing my ability to form coherent thoughts. I knew that he’d brought me into his office, putting me into the most submissive role possible, simply to dominate me.

Possess me.

When I whimpered softly, he slid his finger into my mouth
, opening my lips for the rubber ball. I cringed at the taste as he fastened the strap around my head.

I tried to move my tongue, but the device prevented me from forming words or closing my mouth.

“Breathe through your nose,” he said, and I nodded, letting him bend me over the desk.

I lay on my stomach across
the papers he had strewn about and felt him kneel behind me.

Moaning helplessly, I wriggled as his hands began at my calves and slid up and under my skirt.

“No tights. This will be easier than I thought,” he said, shoving my skirt up to my hips.

I stared at the carpeted flooring, feeling his fingers dig into my thighs. When his mouth touched my hip, kissing along the curve of my ass, I moaned.

“
Shh
,” he whispered. He reached the desk, and I jerked when I felt the pin-point of something cold and sharp against my inner thigh.

“It’s just a pen,” he assured me, spreading my legs
apart even further. He flattened his hand on the small of my back, gathering my panties and tugging them between my cheeks uncomfortably. The cold prick again; I gasped as it moved over my inner thigh.

He was writing on me, and his sentence ended almost inside of me.

“
Mmm
,” I tried to speak, tears of desperate pleasure filling my eyes.

“Almost done,” he replied gruffly,
dragging his hand along my opening before pushing at least two fingers inside. “
Is that better?
” he asked, pumping in and out as I moaned. I heard him cap the pen. “You’re very responsive,” he coaxed.

The cool, metal object slid inside of me, and I realized he was
using the pen.

I moaned, arching my back, and he laughed softly.

“That feels good?” he asked, and I flushed. He pulled the pen out. I groaned as he spread my ass open, jerking away as the pen probed near my most sensitive area. His arm wrapped around my hips, locking me in place. “No, we’re not done.”

Oh, G
od, he pushed, just barely sliding the cool metal inside of me.
Too much, too many sensations.
I cried against the gag, wanting to move against the foreign object, but too afraid. He teased me with the pen, kissing my lower back, and I nearly came before he suddenly pulled the thing away.

“
You want me,
” he urged, and I heard the tear of a condom wrapper. I nodded helplessly. “I’m going to do this very slowly. Don’t make a sound. Do you understand?”

I tried to nod, but he was already
thrusting into me.

My body opened for him, remembering him, needing him. His
hand moved around front to cup me, his thumb massaging my clit as his cock drove me against the desk. I made a gurgling noise from somewhere deep in my throat as he began to thrust into me.

He was being gentle, as he’d promised. I’d been fucked hard by Jason many times, and now, I knew that he was restraining himself with all of his
ability.

“
San,
” he murmured, his hips rocking with mine.

He held me in place, and I gripped the edge of the desk, unable to close my mouth. His breath was hot on my back.
He reached up and tangled my hair in his hand, yanking my face upward as his teeth drug over my skin. I inched closer to oblivion, to the one place that only Jason had ever taken me to, the place that let me forget decency, or propriety, or any of the rules that I thought that I had to obey.