The Blue Dress
Chapter Nine: And a Bottle of Scotch

He followed after her, reaching his hand out for the elevator doors and pushing them open.

"Wait!"

She looked up at him, confused at the sudden intrusion. "Mr. Todd?"

"Will you have a drink with me?" He asked, keeping the doors open.

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Do you drink? I have a bottle in my office that I was going to crack open and I was wondering if you would like to join me."

"Mr. Todd, I highly doubt that that is appropriate given the circumstances," she shook her head.

"I promise I will do nothing untoward to you," he offered, ignoring the elevator's loud and repetitive beeping. "Just a drink."

She stood there for a moment, debating whether or not to take him up on his offer with a look of uncertainty on her face.

"Just a few more minutes of your time?" He requested, a piece of his pride slipping away from him. "That is all I ask."

He heard her sigh and roll her tongue over her teeth as she usually did when she thought about arguing back. But to his fortune, she sighed again and nodded.

"Alright…"

He gave a small smile at her decision, happy to have her company for a little longer. He stepped to the side, letting her out of the elevator. "Good, I'm glad. It's quite depressing when one drinks alone."

She nodded as she walked passed him back to his office. They walked silently through the hall, a small air of tension between them.

"So what are we drinking?" She asked as they entered his office again.

Smirking, he put a finger to his mouth as he reached into one of his drawers and pulled out an expensive looking bottle of scotch and two glasses. "This is strictly between us."

"A Macallan '55 Scotch? But of course," she scoffed as she came closer to him.

He gave her a look of surprise as he opened the bottle. "You know your scotch?"

She nodded proudly as she . "That I do. Impressed?"

"And intrigued," he answered, pouring one out for her.

"Why? Because it's rare for a woman to like scotch?" She countered, her voice taking on a teasing tone.

"Based off of my personal experiences and stories from others… Yes," he chuckled as he poured on out for him as well. Picking up their glasses, he handed one to her. "Unless it's all a lie women tell to keep all of their scotch to themselves."

She gave a small chuckle as she took her glass. "A bit of a misogynistic view there, Mr. Todd."

"I apologize, Miss Raven," he offered. "It's just not every day that I met a woman who likes scotch straight and one that knows it. I meant no offense."

"Apology accepted," she nodded, clinking her glass with his before sipping it with a hum.

He grinned as he took a sip of the brown liquor. He tried his best to ignore her taking a seat on his desk again, crossing her leg over the other so that her skirt slid up her thigh.

"So, Mr. Todd…" She said, nonchalantly.

"So, Miss Raven?"

"What brought you up here? Other than it being your office and all," she questioned with a slight tilt of her head.

He shrugged playfully. "I have better alcohol."

She folded her lips under to hold back the smile that threatened to dance on her lips again. "That is true. But why drink alone?"

"You're quite inquisitive tonight," he noted with an arch of his brow.

"When am I ever not inquisitive, Mr. Todd?" She countered as she brought her drink up to her lips.

He chuckled at her with a nod, putting his drink down on the desk. "Fair enough."

"You're avoiding the question, Mr. Todd."

"Must we keep up with the formalities?" he hissed lightly with a roll of his eyes. "We're off the clock - well, at least, we are supposed to be, and we're drinking really expensive scotch together in my office."

"You're still avoiding the question," she shot back with a hint of a smirk.

He gave her a pointed look in response. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Jason…"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now answer my question."

"What was the question?"

"Why did you come up here with the original intention to drink alone?"

"Oh that question…"

"Yes, that question," she repeated, putting her drink off to the side and leaning forward on her arms, making him very aware of her cleavage.

He cleared his throat as his hand dropped down to the wooden surface of his desk near her thigh, clenching and unclenching as the fire in him began to flicker against the walls of his stomach. Letting out a soft chuckle, he tapped the desk with the knuckle of his index finger, thoughtfully.

"Why did you come up here?" She asked again, a playful sort of curiosity dancing in her eyes.

"Honestly?" He asked, taking a small step closer to her.

"No, I want you to lie to me," she rolled her eyes, sarcastically. "Of course, I mean-

"I noticed you weren't there," he blurted out, silencing her. "And I didn't want to be there… If you weren't…"

She blinked, her mouth agape at his reveal. Her eyes searched his, looking for a lie, a hint of dishonesty, some sort of falsehood perhaps but found none.

Closing her eyes, she shook her head. "Why would you-

"Oh come on, you know why," he whispered, moving closer to her and smelling her vanilla scent perfume. "Don't be daft, it's unbecoming."

She looked up at him with those wide, bright eyes that he adored and the world faded for a moment. The tension between them crowded around them again like a fog as the butterflies under their skin fluttered around, tickling them from the inside out. Soft breaths slowed as they tried to calm the thundering and racing beats of their hearts.

"Are you insulting me, Mr. Todd?"

"Jason."

"…Jason," she whispered his name. It reminded him of the boiler room.

He licked his lips and shook his head. "Hardly."

"It certainly sounded like an insult to me," she countered with a coy twitch of her red stained lips.

"My apologizes."

"Forgiven."

Another silent moment passed between them, the sound of their breathing echoing between them. That cloud of tension pulled them closer and closer together, inch by inch, and eyes dropped to the other's lips, wanting, reaching for that addicting taste they craved. His fingertips twitched for the skin of her thigh as her hands gripped the edge of the desk in restraint, her nails digging into the wood. Lips parted and eyes slowly lidded closed as the gap between them grew smaller.

He stopped when his nose nudged against hers as her breath skirted over his lips, dizzying his mind with each millisecond. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her. Than to capture her lips in his and ravage her until she was a puddle of nerves and loose limbs. But he had a promise to keep:

Nothing untoward her. Just a drink.

He took a deep breath, pulling away when suddenly her hand flew to the back of his head and crashed her lips with his. Her lips were hot and desperate against his mouth, massaging and nipping at his lips. It took him a second to react to her urgency.

But it was only a second.

He growled as his hands came up and cupped her face, pulling her closer to him. She moaned as her other hand slid up his body, her fingers wrapping around his tie and pulling it. His hands roamed down her body to her back and thighs, nudging her legs open and placing himself in between them.

She tasted of scotch, cherries, and something forbidden that he just had to indulge in. He pushed her dress higher on her thighs, her legs wrapping automatically around his hips like it was muscle memory. Hot breaths and tongues clashed against each other between teeth nipping and biting at flesh while hands pulled and tugged and pushed and clawed at each other causing that friction that they so craved.

He dropped his kisses from her mouth to her neck, her head lolling back against her shoulders as a sigh escaped her lips. His tongue danced over her skin, feeling her pulse thrum rapidly against it. Capturing the flesh lightly between his teeth, he nibbled at her neck, lost in the passion as he marked her.

She moaned and writhed in delight as he sucked on her pulse, her fingers running through his hair. It was like he was a lit match, setting everything he touched ablaze and everything he didn't touch ached to be touched. Her hand found his on her thigh and began to guide it up her skirt to the heat between her legs.

He didn't need to be told twice. His fingers moved her in small but frantic circles, feeling the wetness seep through her underwear. A small whine pierced his ear as she bucked against his hand. She was so responsive, he couldn't help but grin along her skin, dropping his affections to her collarbone and chest.

It was like they were back in the file room again. Hot, needy, frantic… And so very desperate for release from the hell they had been burning in since they started working together.

His fingers moved, to the edges of her panties, threatening to move them to the side when suddenly they heard a pair of voices. His free hand covered her mouth, ceasing his motions as they listened for the voices out in the hall just beyond his open door. Catching the hint, she quieted and waited for the giggling voices to go away. They heard them laugh and giggle around before finally they voices disappeared further down the hall until it was just them again.

Letting out a sigh of relief, he turned to look at Raven again and he knew that whatever moment he had with her was once again gone.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, pushing him away from her and climbing down from his desk. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in agitation, mentally berated himself for losing his composure and breaking his promise to her.

Just a drink.

He stared at the wood of his desk, his fingertips touching the spot where she sat just a moment ago. It was her voice that snapped him into reality, his eyes looking to her form by the door with her back to him.

"Thank you for the drink…" She paused. "Jason."

And then, she was gone.