Chapter 3
Karen fumbled with her Prada bag strap as the limo whisked her away. She needed to think, needed to get her head around what had happened. But all she could think of was Will's kiss. His hands caressing her back. The way he had placed trails of kisses all down her neck. She snapped her hand away which had subconsciously been re-tracing the route of those kisses and filled it with a drink. What did this mean? Did she love him? No, she couldn't. Up until an hour ago she had hated his guts, wanted to kill him even. She couldn't deny it though, when she had been lying on that desk she had wanted him. All of him. But why?
Will sat alone in his office staring at the papers still littering his floor. He too could still feel Karen's lips pressed against his. He shot a look at the clock ticking away just next to one of the desk legs that had too been thrust aside in the heat of the moment. 2.15pm. Should he call her? Try and explain himself? They had hardly discussed it together, just simply agreed not to mention it again. Then Karen had left. Even through all the guilt and regret he felt, he still suffered a twang of sorrow when she had strode out of the door not allowing herself to look at him.
Will picked up the phone and before he knew what he was doing, he called Karen's limo phone, the number of which he had been given in case of emergencies.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's…it's me."
There was a pause. Please don't hang up, he silently begged.
"What do you want, Will?" She didn't sound angry or even upset, just…tired.
"We need to talk about this…about us."
"Will…" she pleaded. "…don't."
"No, I'm sorry, Karen, but we've got to. Can I come over? What time will you be home?"
He could hear her sigh sadly. His arms ached to hold her, to comfort her. What was wrong with him?
"I…just give me half an hour. Come over then." And before Will could respond she hung up.
It's short, I know. I'm working on chapter 4 as we...umm...type.