Flip the Colleague [Flip Zimmerman]

Ch 5: Giving In & Getting Caught (2)

You awoke alone, wrapped in the lingering warmth of Flip's bed, the air heavy with the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee. The sheets were soft, familiar, and unmistakably him. You turned your face into his pillow, breathing him in, letting the quiet ache in your chest bloom as you held the moment just a little longer.

"Are you smelling my bed?"

You startled as he appeared from the kitchen doorway, a crooked smirk on his lips. He crossed the room with an easy confidence, a mug of coffee in his hand, dressed in nothing but black boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination.

Your cheeks warmed instantly. "No. Maybe." You accepted the cup with both hands, murmuring your thanks as you lifted it to your lips and blew gently across the steam. "What kind of cologne do you wear?"

"I don't." His voice was low, certain. "Waste of fucking money, if you ask me."

You smiled into the rim of the mug. Of course he didn't. If anyone smelled like this naturally, there'd be no need to disguise it. "Guess I'm just... drawn to your natural scent, then," you said lightly, though your heart betrayed you.

He stepped closer, leaning in until his presence surrounded you. His face found the hollow of your neck, and he breathed you in slowly, deliberately, like he was memorizing you. "That makes two of us," he murmured, his words brushing your skin.

Your breath caught. When he pulled back, his eyes lingered on you, searching, wanting. He lifted a hand, tipped your chin up, and traced your lower lip with his thumb. You let it part beneath his touch, your pulse loud in your ears. His kiss was gentle at first before he coaxed it deeper, like he had nowhere else to be.

You reluctantly drew back, your forehead resting against his, the space between you humming. "Uh... don't we have to leave for work in, like, thirty minutes?"

The question lingered between you, fragile and loaded, as if neither of you truly wanted to hear the answer.

"Mmmhmmm..." he mewled as he kissed your neck and collarbone.

"So then... we probably don't have time to—"

His hand found you before the thought could finish, stealing the words from your mouth. The sudden intimacy made you gasp, your head tipping back as a soft sound slipped free. He watched you closely, his expression slow and knowing, like he'd been waiting for this moment all along.

"No time to..." he murmured, his voice low and intimate, "...take care of you?"

His touch was unhurried; you could feel your body respond instantly, betraying every sensible intention you'd had. He smiled faintly, eyes dark with warmth and want.

"I think," he whispered, leaning closer, "your body is telling me otherwise."

In one fluid motion, he swept the blankets aside and settled himself between your legs, as if it were the most natural place for him to be. His lips traced slow, reverent kisses along the inside of your thighs, each one lingering, each one building the ache he seemed determined to draw out of you. His touch never hurried, moving with a quiet confidence that made your breath stutter as your body responded.

He glanced up at you then, eyes dark and intent, watching every reaction you couldn't hide. His free hand slid up your body, warm and sure, cupping you as though he were grounding you there with him. When the feeling deepened, you caught your lip between your teeth, holding onto the moment, your heart racing with the delicious knowledge that he wasn't going anywhere - not yet.

"You like that?" He purred as he moved his gaze back and forth between your face and his fingers at work deep inside you. He lightly nibbled on your thigh and soon, giving into your delicious center, he removed his hand and replaced it with his hot mouth. The exchange made you cry out in delight as he worked his tongue harmoniously with the movement of your hips.