Her fingers hovered over the screen of her phone. She knew what she wanted to do, and she even knew, or was almost certain, that he would be more than ok with that. It was the actual, practical part of making it that was proving to be difficult.

What do you write to a guy you are only contacting because you want to have sex?

Booty call? No, that was just stupid. Come over I am cold? Too corny. I just want you here, with me, making me feel stuff I never thought it was possible to feel? Way too honest.

Amy glanced at the kitchen. Maybe some tequila could help her with the situation, but she didn't want to be anything but completely lucid this time.

With a sigh, she typed.

Hey.

Hey, his reply came so fast she wondered if head been looking at his phone, too.

I won the Jimmy Jabs. She wrote. She couldn't help her.

You did.

She sighed. This was stupid really. Do you want to come over?

On my way

She smiled at her phone for a moment and then it hit her. He was coming, and this time she was completely aware of the situation. In sudden panic she jumped on her feet and started looking around her tidy apartment. No need for cleaning up… if anything, she knew Jake wouldn't notice or would even find it a reason to mock her.

And she? She had taken a shower right after coming back and was wearing yoga pants and her most comfy sweatshirt. Maybe she could get changed?

She ran into her bedroom and opened the closet. No, everything seemed too serious or too fancy… This was not a date after all. There was no need for her to do anything.

But Jake wasn't there yet and she was feeling antsy. Going to her bathroom she checked her imade in the mirror. Maybe she could comb her hair. Put on a bit of makeup.

Looking at her own reflection, she grunted.

Why was she worrying about this? It was Jake. And he, they, were already on their way to have sex. No need to try to be her best self. No need to pretend.

With a sigh, she went back to the living room and turned the tv on even though she knew she wouldn't really watch it.

Was this a bad idea? It was not a typical Amy idea, the whole bed buddy thing, or whatever this was. She wasn't even such a big fan of one-night-stand except that time with the band douche and it didn't really end up well… so why was she doing this now?

She knew the answer and it made her blush to admit it, if only to herself. It was good. Fun. It made her feel many things she hadn't felt in a while. And yes, at some point in her life she wanted a committed, serious relationship. The possibility of a family,and everything that came with it. But what if maybe this was not the time for it, and it was ok to have a sex buddy just for a while. Because there was one thing no amount of sex or booze could erase from his memory. Jake had been clear he was not interested in her like that, romantic stylez. This was just a practical arrangement.

It was in that precise moment that there was a knock on her door, and much calmer than she thought she could be ten minutes ago, Amy opened.

He was smiling sheepishly, his eyes not really meeting hers. "Hi."

"Hi. Come on in."

He did, and looked around the apartment as if he hadn't been there just two nights ago.

"What?" she asked.

"No tequila?"

Annoyed that she had been caught, she punched him in the arm. "Noo."

"Beer? Rum? Vodka?"

"No! I don't need any of it."

"Don't you?" he said, taking a step closer.

Amy stood her ground, frowning. "No."

"Noice," he said, tipping up her chin with his fingers, and pulling her closer to kiss her.

He hadn't always thought Amy Santiago was hot, but once the idea got into his head, there was no way not to see it. Even in her most boring beige pantsuit, she was hot. And now that they had this new arrangement, he had an array of memories that made that fact completely impossible to ignore.

Which was starting to become a problem, especially considering that their desk faced one another and that he, Jake, had difficulties staying focused in the best of scenarios.

Now though, it was almost torture. He took his eyes off the report he was supposed to be reading and glanced at her. She was fixedly looking at her screen, a small crease between her eyes.

He indulged into looking at her for a couple of seconds. Would she notice?

One… two… three…

She looked at him and frowned. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, half cocky and half ashamed at having been busted.

Maybe he could do it again. He waited, until he felt she was back on the task. He stared again.

One… two…

Amy shifted in her chair a little, but her eyes were still on the monitor. And that's when he felt it. Slowly running up his calf, soft, and definitely purposeful.

He gasped. Amy looked at him with a small smile. "Yes?"

"Nothing," he repeated, but he knew his voice was much weaker this time, all cockiness gone.

"Uh huh," she said, and he felt it again. He didn't need to look under his table to see it. Amy had taken off one of those big sensible shoes, and her foot was running up and down his ankle.

Trying to be subtle, he leaned forward, giving her a little more access.

She grinned, and her eyes were back on the screen as if the lower part of her body belonged to somebody else.

Jake just huffed, and forced his eyes back to the report. For all that he was taking in, it could be written in Chinese. It was pointless to ask his brain to do something, considering that most of his blood seemed to have relocated somewhere else entirely. Pretending to change the angle of his monitor, he risked a glance at Amy again.

The corners of her lips were quivering a little, but other than that, she looked unperturbed. Slowly, she licked her lips and took a pen from her desk. Her eyes were fixed on his again, as she toyed with it for a moment, and then placed it between her lips.

Jake felt as if he could die, right then and there. Of shock, because he had no idea Amy could be this mischievous. Or that she could purposely toy with a perfectly good office supply. Or maybe he'd just die because he was about to explode.

"What?" she asked once more, and he was sure that just that tone of voice ought to be part of the semimar on sexual harassment in the workplace.

"I'll…" deep breath. "... take my lunch break now. Now."

She grinned. "What a coincidence, me too."

He didn't answer. Trying for his movements to look casual, while covering with his bag the parts of his body that were definitely out of control, he headed towards the elevator. Amy entered right before the door closed. And they were alone.

"So…" she said. "Security cameras, huh?"

"But not security microphones," he retorted. "So I'm just going to say right now that you are cruel."

"Am I?"

"Mean," he said, taking a small step to the side to get closer to her.

"Uh huh."

"The worst."

"Maybe we shouldn't have lunch together, then," she said, with a mock innocent voice that he knew would be the death of his, as they both exited the elevator.

"Absolutely not," he said, heading to his car with long strides.

"So, what's the plan?" she asked, walking right next to him.

"We are driving to my place, right now."

She smiled at him as they entered the car. "Nice… do you have any food?"

He turned around and looked her dead in the eye. "No."

"Copied."

He would never know how he managed to drive to his apartment without causing one or several accidents, as her hand stubbornly caressed his tight, in a clear threat that it could move to other areas of his body.

But somehow he managed, and entering his apartment, closing the door, and landing on his bed was just one fluid movement.