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He would acknowledge, if pressed, that women were An Issue. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable with the opposite sex, per se. He wasn’t comfortable with men either. He wasn’t comfortable with people.
No. He didn’t place on the autism spectrum. Yes, he knew people had speculated. He did not need to be diagnosed, treated, or otherwise "fixed". Too many people had already attempted that and failed miserably. Variation from the average was normal. Without it there was no average. Generally he didn’t care what other people thought about his social skills. It was irrelevant.
However, it could not be disputed, that, as he matured, he became more interested in companionship beyond the simple mechanics of picking someone up in a bar. Despite his lack of certain conversational graces he had generally never struggled to find partners for brief trysts. They required little more than a moderately attractive smile, confidence, and reasonable judgment. One-night stands were a very basic level of emotional complexity and one he felt quite able to master.
It was anything else that proved almost impossibly difficult. Kent would acknowledge that he was not a "nice" man, or a charming one, and most assuredly not a charismatic one. In short, by his own assessment, he had no unique selling point with which to attract companionship. He had been astonished that Sue had shown some interest. Amazed that she had put up with him.
And then she hadn’t.
That was not a pleasant memory. He had been excruciatingly aware of her rising dissatisfaction and had observed with a sense of impending doom his own flailing inability to correct course. In general, he thought demanding a partner change was short-sighted and disrespectful. Specifically, he would have done it for Sue, if only he could have determined precisely how. Now he was several months older, several orders sadder, and several degrees less hopeful. Relationships of any kind had never come easily to him. He was aware that was due to his nature and behaviour. He had never considered it a problem. Now it niggled at him.
He had almost reconciled himself to a permanent lack of companionship, if only Sue’s constant hostility didn’t continually remind him of his own shortcomings. If he was going to miss both a person and a relationship then they should be missing, entirely out of sight. However, his issue with women was not his inability to attract one or to maintain a relationship. No. His issue was deference. Given a choice he preferred the company of strong women to diffident ones. Ones who commanded him, rather than who were docile or who sought parity. Unfortunately, what made for exciting and combative relationships when things were going well became a nightmare of aggression and bitterness when the romance or friendship soured. He could have dealt with the breakup, the Kerr disaster, and his acute sense of his sinking stock with Selina, if only Sue weren’t so hostile.
It hurt, and it hurt anew each time he saw her.
Kent slammed his calculator down. Gary scuttled out of the room. Sue was made of sterner stuff and continued to glare at him.
‘I don’t want you here,’ she said.
Kent threw himself down into his chair. ‘Fortunately it is no longer necessary for me to care what you want.’
Sue flinched. Kent looked away.
‘This is ridiculous,’ she said.
‘I agree.’
‘So leave!’
‘You leave!’ he retorted. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up on his feet but they were suddenly inches apart.
‘Mr. Davison…’
‘Do not call me that.’
She slapped him.
He kissed her.
Sue’s hands fisted in his shirt, twisting the material until it pulled tightly against his skin. She tasted of sweet raspberries and bitter chocolate. He was reminded of her birthday, of eating warm cherry pie and cold vanilla ice cream in her bed. Reminded of licking melting ice cream from the soft swell of her stomach while she wrapped her legs around his back.
Kent slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He needed to feel the warmth of her skin against his.
‘Let go,’ she said, shoving him away suddenly. She took a step back and neatened her already perfect hair. ‘Don’t do that again,’ she said, and turned on her heel to walk away.
Kent sighed and tried to sort out his crushed shirt.
***
Sue was cursing under her breath all the way back to her desk. A stupid, unprofessional, completely impulsive thing to do. She almost expected that sort of nonsense from Selina, but she was better than that. He should have been better than that. What was he thinking of, kissing her? He had no business doing that. And in the office? Someone might have walked in. That would have been beyond humiliating.
The whole situation was ludicrous. It resembled one of those ridiculous movies where the characters spend half the time arguing before suddenly realising that they're in love.
No, not that. That was childish. Sue had never been childish, not even as a child. No, those movies were absurd and an embarrassment to any thinking woman, particularly given that they were the apparent market segment. It was insulting. That every single 'romance' consisted of one 'zany' character and one 'sensible' character who needed to 'loosen up' was infuriating.
Sue had never met anyone 'zany', and had no desire to do so. She had met a great many idiots, and was sure she had nothing to learn from them. She had never been attracted to idiots. Intelligence was one of the things she always found most attractive. Sapiosexual was the word that Kent had used. He was the only person she knew who could say that and mean it.
Sue sat at her desk and took several deep breaths to compose herself. Although it was annoying it was unsurprising that he could still elicit that kind of response. She still found him as attractive, dynamic, and charismatic as before. No lessening of desire had been involved in their uncoupling.
It was annoying. He had no business running around being dashing and exciting when they had parted ways. He should have had the grace to have been deflated and subdued. Not carried on as if nothing had happened. She certainly... No. She was not going to wallow in what might have been. The empty bed each morning. The feeling of loss. That was the most annoying. How could she miss him when he was constantly underfoot?
If it had been one of those idiotic romances, he would have come out to apologise, or sent a gift, or his best friend. Or, an unpleasant thought, one of them would meet their actual 'true love' while still pining for the other one.
She didn't like that thought at all.
***
It was late, a long day of catastrophes small and large. Kent ran his fingers through his hair as he poked his laptop. The data were clear, Selina’s presidency was a disaster. Her numbers had started middling and were sinking faster than the Titanic. She wasn’t going to win re-election that was for damn sure. Maybe it was time to think about his future. There was always business consultancy or maybe some cushy teaching post. He was radically overqualified for either and both would pay more than he was currently earning. Not the same prestige of course, if you could consider a broom closet barely big enough to hold a desk particularly prestigious. Selina’s presidency was rapidly turning toxic and he didn’t need that poisoning his prospects.
And he wouldn’t have to deal with Sue being mere feet away every single day.
He still had a job to do and he had enough pride to do it well. He printed off his report, bound it in an azure coloured folder, and went to drop it off. When he stepped outside his office he realised that the lights in the bullpen were on and, worse, Sue’s computer was still on. He had no intention of risking another altercation with her and so, instead of dropping the file on Sue’s desk, he went into the Oval Office.
That was his first mistake. His second was not turning around and walking out when he saw Sue sitting at the desk. At Selina’s desk. At POTUS’s desk.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ he asked. It was after midnight and she still looked amazing. That was utterly unfair.
She tensed, they both knew that she had no business being there. He had no business being there either, but then he wasn’t sat at the desk. At that desk.
‘Go away, Kent,’ she said, attempting to brazen it out.
He strode across the room and put the folder down on the desk.
‘I knew you had an ego, Sue, but this is uniquely conceited even for a woman as amply endowed with arrogance as you are.’
‘Just doing my job,’ she claimed.
‘I wonder if the president would agree with that assessment.’
Sue put down the papers she was holding and stood up, pushing back the chair behind her. ‘Are you attempting to threaten me, Mr. Davison?’
He walked around the desk, one hand trailing on the rich wood. ‘I think we are both aware which of us is the more likely to engage in hostile and intimidating behaviour, Miss Wilson.’
She was wearing her hair down. He always preferred it that way although she claimed it was an irritation to her.
‘Given the provocation, I have been extremely patient,’ she said, tilting up her chin.
‘How have I ever provoked you?’ Kent asked.
‘I don’t have time for this. I’m very busy.’
‘If you’re unable to cope with your workload then perhaps you should seek alternative employment,’ he said. ‘Allow the president to find someone more competent.’
They both knew that was a vicious blow but things had gone too far for either of them to retreat. They were standing too close. Her hands were curled almost into fists. His teeth were gritted.
‘The architect of the Kerr disaster lectures me on competence,’ Sue said.
His hand twitched. He saw her notice it.
‘Try it, Kent,’ she said, stepping as close to him as possible. ‘Hit me.’
‘I was raised too well to ever countenance striking a woman.’ He could see the tiny hairs that had escaped her ferocious eyebrow plucking, and remembered brushing his fingers over the soft down at the nape of her neck.
‘Mommy raised her little man to be a coward.’ Her voice was low and just barely escaping bitterness.
‘Is there some particular reason that you are attempting to incite me to violence?’ He heard the snarl in his own voice, and hated that he couldn’t control it.
Sue raised an eyebrow. ‘I am inciting you to treat me like a woman and not a piece of china.’
Kent snorted. ‘Precisely what is your meaning?’
Sue stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. ‘I mean that I am not going to break if you’re rough.’ She sank back onto her heels and looked him in the eye. ‘Kent, I am a grown woman, not whatever fantasy you have of me. I am not going to cry if you want something that isn’t courteous and wholesome.’
He licked his lips. ‘What’re you saying?’
Sue shoved him and he fell down onto the guest chair. She climbed onto his lap, hiking up her skirt to her thighs. They weren’t kissing, nothing so anaemic. This was a battle. Hands grabbing, pushing, holding. Mouths clashing, pressing, biting. Her teeth nipping his lips. His hands and hers fighting over buttons and belts. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest as she slid her arms around the back of his neck. Kent slipped his hands along her hips, following the seam of her thigh highs. He tugged on the elastic, pulling it away from her leg, and then let it snap back against her flesh.
She gave his hair a sharp tug in revenge but that was all. She threw off her shoes and let them fall onto the floor with a clatter. He peeled down her thigh highs, then threw them away. Her panties followed. He ran his fingers along her bare skin, as smooth and warm as he remembered, stroking her ankles, calves, and thighs. Then he let one hand dawdle on her waist while the other cupped the side of her face. Her hands were under his shirt, short, neat, nails ripping across his back. He listened to her panting, her breath warm and moist against his skin. He’d never quite managed to reconcile her icy manner with her fervour, and that was part of her charm. She would dominate the office, so composed and poised while he’d have scratches and bruises hiding under his clothes.
Sue bit the end of his tongue. He reached for her ass and squeezed until she groaned.
‘Bastard.’
‘Bitch.’ He almost choked on the word.
Sue leant back a couple of inches, just enough to look him in the eye. She raised her eyebrows.
‘Say it as if you mean it,’ she said.
‘Bitch.’ It was a little louder but no more confident.
She slapped him again. It was more insult than assault.
‘Fucking bitch,’ he growled.
Her fingers grabbed his collar and yanked him closer. ‘Let go of me.’
‘Make me.’
He thought she might slap him again. Instead she kissed him. As she did she grabbed a handful of his shirt and gripped it tight. Her other hand yanked at his belt, tugging it out of the clasp.
Multi-tasking. He always admired that.
He tasted blood, from his tongue or somewhere else he didn’t know. Didn’t care. She smelled fantastic, he thought it was the perfume he’d bought her for her birthday. Why was she wearing that?
‘Get… your hand… off my ass,’ she demanded in between pants.
She made no attempt to move it. So he concentrated on tugging off his tie with his other hand. She hissed when he did finally move his hand, and then bit his lip.
‘What are you waiting for?’ she asked. ‘Fuck me already’
She was still holding his belt in her hand, but loosely as if she had already forgotten about it. He tugged it free and pulled her wrists together. She went very still, and then sat back. Her expression was calm, a deliberate challenge.
‘You wouldn’t dare, Sir,’ she said. Her voice was low and rough.
‘Watch me.’ He wrapped the belt around her wrists and buckled it tightly. She could work it off. They both knew that. It wasn’t the point.
‘Try to gag me and I’ll scream so loud the secret service will have you flat on the floor before the echoes die,’ Sue said in the same tone.
Another challenge. Before he replied he took a moment to unbutton her blouse. The material was thin and as he pushed it off her shoulders he saw that she was shivering.
‘Do you enjoy the concept of me on the pinned down on the ground?’ he asked.
‘Best place for you,’ Sue said, staring at his mouth.
He took out his cell, watched her notice it, and then put it down on the desk. ‘Do you trust me, Miss Wilson?’
‘Sir, I wouldn’t throw you a lifebelt if you were drowning.’
‘Yes, you would. Please stick to the issue at hand.’
Sue looked at the cell and then at him. ‘For a certain value of trust.’
Kent snapped his tie between his fists and then carefully wrapped it around her eyes, tying it neatly at the back.
‘I thought you weren’t comfortable with this,’ Sue said, the barest tremor in her voice.
‘You told me to stop treating you as though you were made of china.’
He watched her breathing deepen as he ran his thumb around her lips. Then he unhooked her brassiere and slid the straps down far enough to free her breasts. She gave a little gasp. Kent kissed her, tiny kisses around her mouth. Then he picked up his cell, made sure her face wasn’t in shot, and took a photograph. The camera ‘snap’ was loud in the quiet of the room.
‘Kent, if you send those anywhere I will personally ruin you,’ she threatened, and then she bit her lower lip.
He took a shot of that, just that. Just her beautiful mouth.
‘Scout’s honour.’
As he kissed her more gently he palmed her breasts, caressing the nipples with his thumbs. Sue groaned and pushed forward against his hands, her fingers knotting in his shirt. She murmured something into his mouth. He didn’t recognise the words but he grasped the tone.
Kent sucked on her lower lip for a moment before ducking his head, trailing his lips down her throat. Her skin was warm and delicate as a wisp of silk. It smelled of the perfumed lotion that she used, that he remembered rubbing into her back early mornings after showering.
She lifted her head, inviting him to long, slow licks, and gentle sucking bites. He had to move one of his hands to her back, to keep her from toppling against the desk. His other hand he moved to her ass, to lift her up.
‘Am I sat on the Selina’s desk?’ Her breath was catching and her voice raw.
‘You are,’ he said, as he put his hands on her knees and lent in to kiss her.
‘Kent, if you’re going to strip me half naked in the Oval Office, on the desk of the President of the United States, then at least make it worth-’ she was cut off as he kissed her, hard.
***
She could feel the cool surface of the desk against her bare skin. She was sat right on the edge of the desk, barely balancing, with her skirt hiked up around her waist. She didn’t know if he was sat or kneeling. Didn’t care. Not her problem. His elbows were resting on her knees. His hands were on her hips, burning against her skin, his thumbs rubbing slow circles. Sue twisted her fingers into his hair as she tried not to squirm. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making her writhe at his touch, at his tongue.
She’d almost forgotten the gentle scratch of his beard against her thighs and the sparks it sent up her spine. But not the sound of his breathing as he focussed so completely…
Someone made a noise, neither a moan nor a squeal. Something between. Nothing like a word. Something more animal than human. Sue squirmed, and hated herself for it. She heard him grunt in private acknowledgement that she was so close, and hated him for it.
***
She yanked on his hair, hard, as she came. Her legs wrapped around his shoulders and her heels drummed against his back. Kent moved his hands to her waist, keeping her barely upright, before she collapsed back.
He caught her mid-fall, and eased her down onto the desk top. Her face was utterly relaxed. Her lips just parted enough for him to see a hint of her tongue. Kent cupped her face and kissed her softly. It took her a long moment to respond, and then it was a lazy, languid kiss. He missed those moments. Missed the quietness and missed the warmth that was probably lost in the ether.
Kent felt her move as she raised her leg to run her foot along the back of his thigh. He caressed her hip and then cupped his hand between her legs.
‘Kent,’ she murmured, ‘you know I’m ready.’
***
Her back was killing her. She was lying on top of his stupid blue folder and the clasp was digging into her skin. His belt was chafing against her wrists. They’d hurt like hell later on. That didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was tied up, blindfolded, and being fucked on a desk. When she looked down the sides of her nose, where the blindfold gaped, she could see her legs wrapped around his back, and the material of his shirt: grey of course, and his hands holding her hips. Holding her in place. Doing whatever he wanted to her. Nothing like they’d done before. Should she be nervous? She wasn’t. She’d never been nervous with him.
He moved her, pulled her up and put a book under her ass. A god damn book. It hurt like hell. Just so he could change the angle. Just so he could get in deeper... fuck her deeper and harder... oh Jesus...
‘Shut up.’ First thing he’d said since they started. Voice a rumble, raw and demanding. He said it again, more insistent. Then he put his hand over her mouth.
Sue’s eyes screwed up as she tried to hold on, tried to think of something else but Kent deep inside her and totally in control. She was shaking, shuddering with the effort of not calling out. His fingers digging into her thigh as he tried to keep her in place, to stop himself from fucking her right across the desk.
The hand on her mouth tightened its grip. She tasted salt and smelled soap. Then he moved and his angle changed and shit... oh shit that was it... oh Jesus she was going to...
She heard him curse, dimly, and she tasted copper, but she didn’t care.
‘Ow,’ he said, flatly. Too flat. He was barely keeping it together. ‘You bit me.’
‘Shush, sleepy.’
She heard him snort. Then his voice was close to her ear.
‘I haven’t finished yet.’
It was a promise, not a threat. A low, dirty growl that woke her right up again.
***
Kent’s hand was throbbing. If he’d been thinking anything much at that moment he might have wondered how he was going to explain his hand. But he wasn’t thinking about anything beyond the sight of her lay sprawled on the desk.
She made a pleasing, and pleased, little groan when he changed position. He slid his hand under her right hip as he rested left hand on the desk.
‘You’re so beautiful.’ He could have bitten off his tongue. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Just because it was true didn’t mean anyone wanted to hear it.
He heard her sigh and then she was working the belt from her hands. Kent slowed his motion as she took off tie from around her eyes.
‘A moment,’ she said, her voice still rough. She flexed her wrists and then pulled herself up and him down towards her.
He felt her arms shaking as they kissed slowly. He was still inside her and the pressure to thrust was almost unbearable. He gently pulled her to the edge of the desk and helped her sit up. She wrapped her legs around his back and lent back on her hands. Kent cupped her face with his left hand while his right hand slid onto her waist. He could feel the warmth of her skin burning against his. He was close, the pulsing pressure was slamming against him like waves against the beach.
Her tongue rolled around his, flicked against the roof of his mouth, and then traced around his lips. They hadn’t done this in too long. Work, stress, long hours and office politics had strangled their time. Turned leisurely dates into brief fumbles.
‘We should do this more often.’ Sue murmured.
‘Too often and we’ll break the desk.’
She laughed, and then he felt her smile. She clenched around him as he thrust.
He buried his face against her shoulder. Felt her lips against his cheek.
‘Fuck,’ he groaned, voice like a creaking door.
***
Sue reflected that it was fortunate that they were both in shape. Otherwise their both lying sprawled on the desk would have resulted in someone falling off.
‘Do you think that counts as treason?’ she asked.
‘At the least.’ He sounded half asleep.
Sue pulled herself into a sitting position. She reached over to remove the rubber, and then had no idea where to put it. ‘Where’s a fire when you need one?’
‘Clinton used to flush ‘em,’ Kent yawned. ‘Not great for the plumbing’
‘Needs must,’ Sue said primly, and headed for the private bathroom. As she was washing her hands she looked in the mirror. Hair a disaster. Makeup smeared across her face. Hickeys on her neck, shoulders, and both breasts. He was certainly thorough. Legs like two pieces of wet string. Arms likewise. Back... back smashed with a mallet.
‘I think you have done irreparable damage to my back,’ she said severely as she re-entered the room.
Kent sat up slowly. He looked at least as bad. Worse, perhaps, as very few men can successfully carry off second-hand smeared makeup.
‘Can I see?’
‘What did you have me lying on?’ Sue sat on the desk beside him, and turned her back to him. ‘This is Selina’s book.’
‘That Dan wrote.’
His hands were firm and uncompromising as they rubbed her shoulders. They felt amazing.
‘You had sex with me on top of her book.’
‘It was to hand,’ he claimed.
Sue looked at him over her shoulder. ‘On top of her book, on top her desk, Kent, it would have been simpler just to pee on her rug.’
‘But much less fun.’
She closed her eyes as he dug his knuckles into her spine. Bliss. ‘For future reference, not a book. Never a book.’
‘I’ll make a note.’
***
Kent walked her out of the building. She even took his arm as they walked.
‘This is nice,’ he said.
‘Walking?’ she asked, frowning slightly.
‘Walking with you.’
‘Make the most of it, we might be fired tomorrow,’ Sue said.
Kent shrugged easily. ‘Worth it.’
That made her smile. ‘Would you like to come home with me?’
‘More than anything.’
End