Crossing Paths – Part Five

Tony

This is wrong, and I know it. I should not have accepted her invitation to come in for a cup of coffee, no matter how tempting seeing the inside of her apartment was. She is my boss.

End of story.

I tell myself that, yet I can’t bring myself to leave.

I follow Meredith into the kitchen and watch the enticing sway of her hips. She may have stumbled earlier in the heels, but I can tell that was an anomaly, she walks in them as if she was born wearing stilettos. I imagine her keeping those thigh-high boots on as I bend her….No!

Dammit, I cannot have those kinds of thoughts.

She was hurt tonight, both of us have had a few too much to drink and it would cross barriers I am not ready to cross. I don’t want to ruin our budding relationship, not when I have spent my whole adult life practically idolizing her.

But god, she is a sight to look upon.

I am relieved when my view of her shapely backside is interrupted by the center island in her kitchen. She busies herself with filling the coffee pot and I adjust myself, hiding the erection that arose suddenly.

“Do you take milk or sugar?”

“Black,” I respond.

“Good,” she says, “me too.”

Meredith grabs two funny looking mugs, obviously homemade and sets them on the counter, ready for the coffee, when it finishes brewing.

“You have a nice apartment,” I say, breaking the silence.

“Thanks, I was lucky to move in here three years ago, I don’t think I could afford it if I tried to get this place today.”

I laugh, “Yeah, rent really has become ridiculous. My place is half this size and I can still barely afford it, but it is worth it, being so close to work.”

“Amen to that, I would hate to spend time commuting. Actually, that is one of the best things of this break-up, it was one hell of a drive to his house and I will never have to do it again.”

The coffee maker chimed, telling us it was finished, and Meredith hurried over, still slightly unsteady on her feet, but she did a good job of hiding it. She fills both mugs and asks, “Do you want the one with trees or kittens?”

“Kittens. Did you make these?” I ask as she passes the mug my way.

“Yup, can you tell they were expertly made?” She waggles her eyebrows and I burst out with a laugh.

She joins me and says, “All right, I know they are pretty awful, but I have always loved pottery. I used to go to this little studio when I first started working and the days were more stressful.”

“They are nowhere near awful, just. . . very unique.”

I hold mine up and eye it, “You said these were kittens, right?” To be honest, they looked more like horses, but I wasn’t about to say that.

She nods her head and smiles, “They were my cats growing up. The orange one is Tang and the black one is Grape Soda.”

“Seriously?” I laugh again, “Did you name them?”

“I was nine.”

Her laugh sounds like soft bells on my ears and I am pleased to be the one to bring it out. I want to hear more of it.

“So, what would you name a white cat?”

She answered promptly as if she had already thought of this, “Milky.”

“Milky? Hmm, I like it. I might change my cat’s name to that. I always thought Russell didn’t fit him anyway.”

“Don’t you dare steal my name,” she swatted at my arm.

I held up my hands in surrender, “Fine, fine, I won’t.”

Looking satisfied, she leans back on her side of the counter, “What a relief.”

I grasp my mug and blow on the top, trying to cool it down enough to drink, Meredith does the same and I am instantly drawn into the smooth elegance of her face. Her lips barely part and I imagine them parting under my own, opening to let my tongue dance with hers.

I am so distracted by this train of thought, I take a sip without realizing it and promptly burn my tongue.

“Ahhh,”

“Still hot?” she laughs out.

I nod. Meredith comes to my side of the counter and holds my chin in her hands.

“Let me see.”

“My tongue?” I ask, nearly breathless with her proximity.

She slowly nods, not taking her eyes off mine, so I relent and open my mouth, only slightly and stick the tip of my tongue out.

“Open up, I can’t see anything like this.”

“Fine,” and I open all the way, sticking my tongue fully out.

“Hmm, how interesting. It looks like you might lose your tongue.”

“Oh no,” I muffle out.

“I know, it’s bad. We might need to cut it off.”

She releases my chin and I feel the loss of her heat on my face.

I make my face look grave, “If it must be done, then we will do it. Do you have the tools?”

Meredith gives her hand a slight wave, “Oh, we don’t need tools, you could just bite if off.”

I shudder, and she laughs again. This time, I can nearly feel the air coming out softly from her chuckle, given she is still standing so close to me.

I know better, but I can’t restrain myself, not anymore.

I stand, and she doesn’t back away. Tentatively, I reach my hands forward and grasp the sides of her face, holding her gently and peering into her eyes. I try and see if she is giving me any indication that I should stop, but she is doing the opposite.

Meredith’s eyes nearly beg me to kiss her.

How could I say no to that?

Check back later for the next, steamy installment of Crossing Paths.

Cheers,
Ivy.

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