Daphne huffed her annoyance, her fingers moving briskly across the keyboard, "Can you please go do something else? I can't concentrate with you in my office."
Fred quirked an eyebrow, "What am I doing?"
"Looking at me like that," she snapped, "I can't focus."
Grinning mischievously, he leaned closer until his chest was flush against her back, "To be fair, I wasn't watching you, I was checking out your edits on the computer screen. But…"
Fred's words trailed off as he brushed the hair from her neck, and placed a soft kiss there. Feeling victorious at the gasp she let escape, his next words blew over her skin, "You'll have to fire me because I don't think I could ever stop looking at you."
Her body stiffened against him and her typing slowed, but she made no move for him to stop.
Fred left lingering kisses from her neck to her jaw, enjoying her soft sighs. The typing ceased as Daphne's hand came up behind her head, carding her fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer.
"We shouldn't do that," she whispered, more to herself than him.
Fred hummed, as his lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear. "I completely agree."
"No, I mean we really shouldn't be doing that here, in the office, right now," Daphne said half-heartedly, slipping her jacket off, giving Fred better access.
"It's not a wise decision," his mouth moved down to her newly bared shoulders, his tongue darting out briefly, savoring the slight whimper she made.
Without warning, Daphne pushed away from her desk, and Fred stepped back, afraid that he might have been offensive. Instead, she turned to face him, sitting delicately on her desk, her pupils blown wide with arousal.
She beckoned him closer with her finger and he found himself powerless to resist, obeying her command as if he was her loyal acolyte. He moved to stand between her legs, "I don't think the door is locked."
Daphne bit her bottom lip, "What do you think we should do them?"
"Well, we're used to doing risky things anyway," he kissed her hard, his mouth ruthless, as if he was sealing a contract.
Grabbing her waist and pulling her to the edge of the desk, he jostled her skirt up, deliciously revealing to him her soft inner thighs. He had to pause, taking a deep breath to steady himself, wanting nothing more then to bury his face and tongue there. To taste her.
Oh, the things he could do to her if only they had the privacy of a bedroom. Things they had not yet done together.
But that particular joy would have to wait; time was of the essence right now. He sluggishly pulled his gaze from her face, looking down at her desk that was already tipping with her light weight.
"We might have to improvise, Daph. I don't think your office furniture is built to last, if you catch my drift," he said with a coy wink.
Daphne giggled, running her hand teasingly across the hardened bulge in the front of his pants, making him release a groan from deep in his lungs, "I have a few ideas, Freddie."
XXXXXX
"You feel so good," Fred growled close to her ear as he slid into her wet heat from behind, her body carefully bent over the desk.
Daphne observed as Fred's hand closed over hers, entwining their fingers. The sweet gesture making her heart ache with love for him.
She squeezed her eyes shut, Fred's pumping movements went deeper, bringing her closer and closer….
"Open your eyes, Daph," he grunted, timing his words with thrusts, "Does that couple in the mirror look like friends to you?"
Her eyes were slow to obey, but when she did, she couldn't argue that Fred was wrong. The mirror hanging on the wall had seen her fix her make-up numerous times, but it had never witnessed something like this before.
Both figures were sweaty, panting, rutting against each other. She watched the reflection as Fred's teeth found her earlobe and gently tugged. Her hair was shamelessly messy and her tank top pulled down, exposing both nipples completely. She saw as Fred's hand gripped her hip to steady his thrusts fron behind while his other snaked around to grasp a firm breast.
She didn't answer him out loud, not wanting to give him that power over her heart, but he was absolutely correct. The people in the mirror exuded love and desperate passion, no where near the platonic friendship she claimed they had.
All thoughts of their relationship took a backseat as Fred's hand dipped between her legs, gently rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves there, bringing her body to an invisible paradise of pleasure. Any problems being left behind for now...
XXXXXX
Daphne stood next to the copier, silently cursing herself for using this particular machine. Everyone in the office knows that this unit is a blood-thirsty demon sent to Earth to devour any paper pushed into it's slot. But to be fair, her mind had been somewhere else, or rather…on someone else.
She sighed, muttering curses under her breath, lifting various covers and slamming buttons. So focused was she on getting the damned device to work that she didn't hear another individual enter the copy room.
Daphne raised her fist, about to smash it into the machine when a voice from the past spoke behind her, "Did danger-prone Daphne break the copier?"
She froze, knowing darn well who said that. Turning slowly, she saw Fred's handsome self leaning against the door frame, arms smugly crossed over his broad chest.
She tried to think of a witty or sarcastic come back, but nothing came to mind. Not even a simple "hello"; her vocal cords seemingly stunned into silence.
Leaning over, Fred unplugged the copier and replaced it back in the socket, "Luckily, it's easy to fix. Just reboot it the ol' fashioned way."
Finally finding her voice, she smiled, "Thanks."
Fred rubbed the back of his neck, while Daphne picked a piece of lint off her blouse, an awkward silence falling over both of them.
"I know you hate me Fred, but it was never my goal to hurt you," she eventually said, her words sounding pathetic, even to her own ears.
She was nearly begging for his forgiveness at this point, her eyes tearing up, "Are we…can we…still be friends?"
"I'm not the right person to ask," he stated, shifting uneasily on his feet. "The term "friends" has left a sour taste in my mouth recently."
Daphne pouted, her pride wounded, "Oh please Freddie, just save the drama for the camera. What would you call Shaggy, Scooby, and Velma then?"
His mouth curved into a ridiculously charming smile and it made heat pool in the pit of her stomach. Whether the warmth was from irritation or desire, she couldnt say. Maybe it was from both.
"I perfer to call them chums," Fred's grin growing impossibly bigger.
Without thinking about his blunt honesty, she demanded, "Then what do you call me?"
He didn't answer, but she saw a muscle twitch in his neck, lips forming a thin straight line. She was actually glad when he didn't respond, not really wanting to know what he thought about her anyway.
It would only hurt worse coming from him.
Daphne shook her head, "Forget I said it."
To her suprise, Fred chuckled, immediately defusing the situation, "I don't think I could forget anything you say, Daph."
His words quickly calmed her ire and she was filled with the sudden urge to drop her papers and hug him, squeeze him so tight, and just remain in his brawny arms forever. To spill all the apologies she's hidden in her heart all this time and plead for him to love her back.
But a loud knock on the door frame shattered the mood.
They both turned towards the noise to see Gretchen Sawder, a soap opera producer, smirking and holding up a stack of papers, "Is this the line for the copier?"
Fred's face fell in disappointment as he exited the room, being careful not to bump shoulders with either women. "No. I was just leaving."
Daphne cleared her throat, shuffling her own stack, "Me too. The copier is all yours, Gretchen."