huntingtcn-dylan:
In both of their fields of expertise, time meant money. They understood the prerogative and, more often than not, could easily conform to the demands attached. But, in moments when they had their limbs tangled beneath the thousand something Egyptian cotton light grey sheets. When he could hold her like that. It didn’t seem as meaningful.
Dylan released a breath through his mouth, a fingertip tracing light patterns over Emerson’s skin. “I could just tell them it’s none of their business,” his shoulders moved with a shrug. He was an expert when it came to keeping his business and personal lives separated, and most of the people he knew wouldn’t dare ask. Over the years, they learned that much about the man who worked with them. They could expect great things when it came to the nature and quality of the work he did, but what he did once the office closed was off-limits.
The man grimaced at her words and his hazel eyes connected with the golden tone of her hues. “So you want a quickie before you leave, huh?” he arched an eyebrow.
It was a little too easy to say it was none of anyone’s business. It truly was none of anyone’s business, but Emerson didn’t have the luxury of secrets. She stood in the right spot at the right time and that was that.
The safety of Dylan’s apartment, however, was nicer. The dress code was far more simpler compared to the designer threads she donned on a normal basis. The conversation was far more relaxed. Emerson could act on things she wanted to do, like lean up to kiss him if she wanted to. She could wrap her arms around his neck or her legs around his waist. “I don’t get to do that,” she reminded him. Though she wanted nothing else than to curl up under the covers with him and do nothing. It was a far more attractive option. “You know if we do that, I’ll make you erase your meetings, right? We can rarely ever squeak by something quick.”
