I Married a Master(38)
Author: Melanie Marchande

"Hmm." He still smelled good. And expensive. "You might be right."

"Do you have some of that cologne here?" I asked him.

He hesitated for a moment, then smiled. "Yes," he said. "In the bathroom. See, I knew you’d be good at this."

I hadn’t even noticed the door in the corner, designed to blend into the wall. Inside, it was almost as nice as the one at his apartment, but not quite as big, There was a shower, though, which I imagined came in handy for those all-nighters. I wondered how often he ended up sleeping here.

The beautiful mirrored medicine cabinet had a little bottle in it. I lifted it carefully, and unscrewed the lid.

"Wait," he said, following me into the small room. "Let me do it. Otherwise it’s just going to smell like you’re wearing it on purpose."

I rolled my eyes.

"Someone’s skin chemistry completely changes the smell," he insisted, dabbing a little bit onto his fingertips. "Didn’t you just say it’s the little things that count?"

"So I did."

"Where do you want it?" he asked, without a hint of irony.

I stared at him for a moment.

He raised his eyebrows, expectantly.

"Um – well – where do you wear it?" I countered. "Because, you know, if the idea is that it rubbed off on me, from you, I need to figure out what the most likely…" I cleared my throat. "…uh, mode of…you know, transmission. Was."

"Sure," he said, his eyes sparkling. He gestured vaguely in his chest region "So…"

"So," I said, my pulse fluttering again. With hesitant fingers, I reached up and touched my collarbone. "About here, then?"

"All right." He looked more serious now, stroking gently along the edge of the bone, dipping slightly below into the soft skin. The scent rose as it warmed to my body, and he rubbed it in, gently.

"Normally," he murmured, "you just dab, but in this case we’re trying to create the illusion of…" His eyes flicked up to mine, briefly. "…friction."

My breath caught audibly in my throat. "Right," I said.

His fingers drifted down to the neckline of my dress, tracing along, leaving a trail of sensation along my skin. I shivered. He wasn’t putting the cologne on anymore.

"Your lipstick’s not right," he said, quietly. "I think you’d better put it back on, and start again."

I swallowed hard. It was still clutched in my palm, but I didn’t think I could steady my hand enough to avoid looking like a clown.

"The…the lighting’s terrible in here," I said.

"Let me." He reached for the lipstick, pulling it from my fingers. I didn’t try to stop him. I stood there, with my lips already parted, while he leaned forward and gently painted me with color. "You know," he said, his breath so close I could feel it on my face, "I read somewhere that the whole point of lipstick was to remind men what you look like when you’re aroused."

He finished, and I smacked my lips gently. "Yeah, and have you ever noticed what your tie’s pointing to?" I smiled.

"The more refined we try to be, the more animal we are." He was still standing close, so close, and all I could breathe, all I could see, all I could smell, was him. "Isn’t that always the way?"

I lifted my hand to my face, but he stopped me with a gentle touch on my wrist. "What are you doing?"

"Smearing it," I said, breathlessly.

He shook his head, loosening his collar. "Didn’t you ever hear of killing two birds with one stone?"

It was a dare. A challenge. I stared at him, and he stared at me.

I wasn’t going to let him win. Not this time.

Stepping forward, closing the distance between us, I went up on tiptoe and pressed my lips to his neck. It wasn’t a kiss, not at first – until it was.

I felt his whole body react, his arms flexing automatically as if to grab me and pull me closer, before his brain kicked in and remembered what we were really doing. My lips trailed down to his shoulder, seemingly on their own. A moment later, I managed to yank myself away.

His eyes were hooded, slightly downcast. As he raised them to my face, I felt the tension in the room pulled to the breaking point, ready to snap.

Chirp chirp. Chirp chirp.

For a moment, his face blanked with confusion. Then he shook his head, reaching his his pocket hastily.

"Shit." He fumbled with the screen. "I have a meeting in half an hour. We’ve got to order lunch now if we want to get caught on schedule."

I let out a sigh of relief – at least, I hoped that’s what it was. He fled the bathroom and I stood there for a moment, clutching the edge of the sink, trying to reorganize my thoughts into something passable as sanity.

"What do you want?" he called out, from the main part of his office.

It took me a few seconds to remember what he was talking about. Right. Food.

"Whatever," I said. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to eat it, anyway. My mouth was like a desert, my stomach like a clenched fist.

A few minutes later, it occurred to me that I’d just made him order for me. So much for trying to maintain my independence in this fake relationship. I ran the sink and dabbed a little water around my hairline, to create the illusion of vigorous activity that had just recently ended. Then, I returned back to my seat on slightly unsteady legs.

Ben looked angry. He was reading something, or at least pretending to read it, eyes darting across the page while his lip twitched in an almost sneer.

"Relax," I told him, before I could stop myself. "Nobody’s going to believe we just had sex if you look like you’re about to blow a gasket."

Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. I glanced up with a frown. I’d vaguely heard Ben order, but I couldn’t remember what. It didn’t seem long enough, anyway.

"Come in!" Ben sounded slightly out-of-sorts, just enough for he facade we were putting on. By the time yet another fresh-faced intern walked in, he’d managed to arrange his face into an expression that didn’t look so angry.

I could feel the knot of frustration in my chest, too, but I thought I did a pretty good job of hiding it behind an expression of guilt and embarrassment. The poor intern practically dropped the food and ran, blushing bright red as she processed the sight in front of her.

"That’s all, really?" I muttered, after the door slammed shut. "How do you know she’ll even tell anyone?"

"Oh, she will." Ben’s mouth twisted as he dug into the bag. "I made sure to find out who the biggest gossip is. The whole office will know within ten minutes."