As it was almost
lunchtime, Trish went home immediately to change, and Trevor was
left holding the fort. He’d just sorted out a dispute between two
typists—each claiming the other always received preferential
treatment when annual leave was negotiated—when Paul walked into
the office and closed the door behind him.
“Busy morning?” Paul asked
before laying his hands on Trevor’s shoulders, massaging
them.
“Uh huh.”
“Where’s
Trish?”
“She’s, uh, gone home
because…Ooh yeah, just there.”
Paul chuckled before
bending down and licking Trevor’s ear. So we’ve got the office to
ourselves, then?”
“What? You can’t. I mean
we can’t. Anyone could just walk in and…Oh God.” Paul had just
found a tense muscle that had been bothering him all
morning.
Kissing the top of
Trevor’s head, Paul said, “I know we can’t, but it’d be fun if we
could.” Moving to lick Trevor’s other ear, Paul added, “As I can’t
tempt you into a quickie, how’s about we go out for lunch