Candy Cane

SAM

~Fuck.~

Could this woman get any better? Every time I thought I could handle our business casual agreement, Evie would say something that made me want to seize her face and yank her lips to mine.

I felt bad that she’d only come to Burlington because she got divorced and had to sell her business. I could relate to that story only too well. But at the same time, I was so glad she was here. Her advice just now had been killer, and just what I needed to hear.

~Okay. Focus, Sam.~

I couldn’t. Not when she was relaxing there with her flawless legs crossed, wearing a little black dress that looked nearly identical to the one I’d fucked her in.

What I would give to drape her tan thighs over my shoulders so I could taste her pussy again. Her delicious folds, slipping along my taste buds like the softest fondant.

I remembered the taste of her so well. Perfectly mild, with just the right amount of sweetness to keep me chasing the melting sugar toward her caramelized high…

And the sounds she’d made…fuck. I could cream my slacks right now just thinking about the way she’d moaned as I’d tongue-fucked her to her boiling point.

The way she said my name—or my fake one, rather. It rankled me to remember that she’d only ever called me “Tony.” What I would give to hear her screaming, ~“Vázquez!”~ My own last name always made my cock stiffen when it rolled from her heavenly little mouth.

I snuck another peek at her over the edge of my folder. The long, striped stick of red-and-white candy glided in and out through her luscious, fire-red lips as she sucked it into a sharp point.

If she was that good at sucking on a candy cane, I could only regret that I hadn’t taken advantage of her sucking abilities when I had the chance.

Thank God for the edge of the desk hiding my lap. Her caving cheeks, her puckering lips, and every ounce of visible suction were making me as hard as an ice block.

“Okay,” I huffed, slapping the manila packet on my desk. “I’m sorry, but you’ve gotta stop that.”

“Oh…is it the wrapper?” she asked, glancing up at me with those glittering, emerald-colored eyes of hers. “I only leave it on because I don’t want my hands to get all stick—”

“It’s not the wrapper,” I interrupted.

After a bit of thought, she furrowed her brows. “I don’t understand.”

“Never mind,” I muttered, shaking my head. I glanced down at my documents, ready to continue this agonizing night rather than continue the conversation.

But she kept staring at me quizzically till I sighed and looked up again.

“Okay, it’s, um…it’s the way you’re consuming it.”

“I still don’t understand,” Evie said. “I’m just sucking on—” She paused. “Oh.” She grinned, looking flattered now, and chuckled a little.

“And why are you laughing at me?” I asked, loaded to the brim with embarrassment.

She smirked, deliberately sliding the candy slowly from her lips. “Because ~your~ candy cane is jealous of ~mine~.”

“Oh, look at you encroaching on my sex jokes!” I barked, impressed.

I’d never met a woman like Evie—someone who not only had snappy comebacks for all my dirty jokes but made some of her own. Someone who mirrored my personality. We both knew how to be silly, but serious. Fun, but down to earth. Spirited, but calm.

“Don’t make me come over there, angel,” I teased.

Evie smirked, sliding the slick white rod from her lips once more. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Vázquez.”

As we locked eyes across my desk, something strange happened in my chest—a flutter. I hadn’t experienced that sensation in so long that it felt new.

“It was a good time, wasn’t it?” I asked, more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” she said with a sensuous stare. “It was.”

There it was again—that flutter. So powerful I had to suck in a breath to keep calm. I needed this to end—otherwise I’d say or do something foolish.

“Well, we should call it for the night.” I huffed, climbing from my chair. “Head home.”

“Yeah.” Evie raised her brows and stood up as well. “Yeah, we should.”

“We can finish this tomorrow night,” I said, grabbing my briefcase.

“Sure.” She snagged her purse and headed for the door, saying a quick goodbye.

I hung around for a few minutes, switching off the lamp and puttering around straightening some piles of papers. Nothing was worse than saying goodbye to someone, only to then have to stand around waiting for the elevator together.

Once I could no longer hear her heels clacking against the tile floor, though, I headed out.

The halls were eerie this late at night. I was used to working late, but it always creeped me out to make my way to the elevator through the dim, silent office. I locked the door behind me on the way out of the building.

Outside, I trudged toward my maroon Mercedes Benz, clicking the rubber button on the key fob. The streetlights glowed orange, catching a few meager snowflakes as they drifted through the air.

I tugged open the passenger side door, throwing my briefcase onto the seat. As I was rounding toward the driver’s side, though, I noticed a silver Ford Focus still parked in the lot. It sat frozen and empty—as if Evie hadn’t emerged from the building yet.

Come to think of it, the elevator had opened immediately when I’d hit the button. I guessed Evie must’ve opted for the stairs instead of the elevator. From the eighth floor, that was quite a trek. But also, it meant that I’d just locked her inside the building. Shit.

I went over to unlock the door again, then started cleaning the light dusting of snow off her vehicle, killing some time until she came down.

When I finished, I tossed my snow brush into the backseat on the floor of my Mercedes. Still no Evie. Well, I might as well wait where it was warm. I wandered into the building to stand in the dimly lit lobby.

A few more minutes passed. Even for an eight-floor descent, Evie was taking a lot longer than I would’ve expected. I called her cellphone, but she didn’t answer. Okay, fine. I would text. I smiled when I remembered that I’d saved her number in my phone as “Angel.”

Sam

Hey, where are you?

No answer. No bubbles. No read receipt.

Sam

Evie?

Nothing.

Sam

Evie, are you okay?

I glared at the messages from our earlier exchange, waiting for her response, but it didn’t come.

~Where the hell is she?~