Tide in the office

Tide in the office

Isabel Rivas arrived at the Soto & Peña architecture studio on Thursday October with an urgent task: to design the new headquarters of a private museum in the Retiro neighborhood. She was tall, dark brown loose hair fell on her back, and in her eyes she kept that mixture of concentration and curiosity that usually has those who have just settled in a new city. At nine and a half o’clock, the majority partner, Daniel Peña, crossed the project room, reviewed the plans on the table and, without looking up, said:

Mrs Rivas, I want to see you finished before Christmas. If you need anything, I'm the back office.

She nodded. “Two weeks later, the first models were ready and, between revisions and scale changes, they began to be left alone more than the count. A lamp lit after eleven o’clock, a shared coffee in cardboard cups, a comment on a line that deviated three millimetres. The office was empty, but the air between them remained loaded with something that no one named.

The first touch was that of his hands by correcting a detail on the millimetre paper. Elizabeth felt the brief rubbing of Daniel’s fingers on the back of hers and, as she withdrew her hand, looked at him as if asking for permission. He also stopped, his thumb still on the plane, and mused:

• I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...

"It's okay," she replied quietly. "It's only been a moment.

From then on, the moment was repeated: as he turned himself in a pencil, as he approached to look at a screen, when he opened the elevator door together when they were leaving almost midnight. Each time the contact lasted a second longer and the look a little less. Daniel was forty-two years old, he had been widowed for three years, and the only reproach Isabel allowed himself to ask himself how many times he had had to learn not to touch anyone. She, three years younger, had just broken a long engagement and, for the first time, he discovered choosing not to excuse his desire.

The rain of the following Friday surprised them without umbrella. They decided to wait under the awning of the corner cafeteria. The water hit the glass and, without asking, Daniel placed his jacket on her shoulders. Isabel turned her face toward her neck, smelled the warm wool and skin underneath. Daniel swallowed saliva, visibly.

"Isabel, this should not happen.

"I know," she replied. "But it's already happening.

He closed his eyes for an instant, then opened them and asked:

• You want us to stop here?

“No. I want you to know that I am aware that you are my boss, that the studio is your home and that tomorrow we will have to sign a delivery certificate. Still, if you feel the same way, I don’t want us to dress it up.

Daniel took a deep breath.

"I wish you," he said, without ornaments. "But I don't want you to feel pressured by my position.

Isabel slipped her fingers down the edge of the jacket that covered her shoulders.

"Then don't use it. Tonight, in your office, you're not the partner. I'm the one asking you to wait for me.

They went up to the tenth floor together when the building was deserted. Isabel left the bag on the meeting chair, took off her shoes and walked barefoot to the window overlooking the illuminated skyline. Daniel stood by the door, his hands in his pockets, observing the contour of his back against the light of the lampposts.

"Come," she said without turning.

He crossed the room. He stopped at one step, but Elizabeth pulled back the remaining half a metre and leaned her back on her chest. Daniel’s breath grazed her neck.

-Isabel...

“Listen to me,” she murmured. “If you want to stop at any time, say the word. I can also say it. Okay?

• Okay.

She then kissed her in the gap between her neck and shoulder, slowly, without rushing. She turned her face and her lips met with the same patience, testing the taste of the other. Daniel passed his hands through her arms, then through her waist, and Isabel raised hers to unbutton her shirt. Every garment that fell did so without haste, as if both needed to perceive the texture of the fabric before leaving the next one.

When he sat her on the edge of the large oak table, Elizabeth opened her legs for Daniel to sit between them. His fingers climbed up the inside of his thighs, caressing the skin that was beginning to erect.

"Tell me what you want," Daniel asked.

"I want you to touch me like we don't have to be held accountable tomorrow."

Then tell me yes with clear words.

"I say yes," she replied. "I want to feel your fingers inside me. I want your mouth in my skin. And I want it, when it enters me, to be because we have both chosen not to hide.

Daniel nodded. He slid his fingers under the fabric of his panties and checked, with a severe sound, how wet it was. Isabel let go of a short breath, but kept her gaze fixed on him. He caressed the clitoris slowly, tracing circles that were opening his way. She arched slightly back, leaning on the palms on the table, and Daniel bowed to lick the nipple that hardened under the open bra.

"More," Elizabeth asked. "I want more."

He introduced a finger, then two, keeping his thumb on the clitoris. The other hand held her neck so that it did not lose balance. The wet sound of the caress filled the office. Isabel trembled, her thighs pressing against Daniel’s hips, and let escape a groan that he picked up with a deep kiss.

"Come here," she whispered.

Daniel joined in. Isabel unbuttoned her belt, zipped down and released her erection. She took it with both hands, caressing the length, feeling her beating against her palm. Daniel closed her eyes and leaned on her forehead.

-Isabel...

"I want you to be inside," she said with a firm voice. "With condoms, without haste, and look at me as you enter.

Daniel pulled a condom out of the inner pocket of the jacket that had remained on the chair. He placed it with safe movements, then placed it back between Isabel’s open legs. She led it with her hand, rubbing the tip against her entrance to impregnate it with lubrication. When Daniel pushed it, he made it inch by inch, stopping each time Isabel held her breath, until it was completely wrapped by her.

For a moment they did not move. They only breathed. Then Isabel surrounded his waist with her legs and Daniel began to enter and leave with a slow, deep rhythm, trying to brush the point that made her groan lower. She stuck her heels in the buttocks to ask for more intensity and he obeyed, increasing the strength without losing control. The table creaked slightly under them. The papers slipped to the ground, but none noticed it.

Isabel arrived first. Orgasm toured her back, made her bow and let go of his name among gasps. Daniel held her, slowing the onslaught until the tremor turned back. She, even within the fog of pleasure, caressed his face and asked:

• Do you want to go on?

• Only if you wish.

• I want you.

Daniel then lifted her up, took her to the leather sofa in the corner and placed her on all fours, holding her hip with one hand while penetrating her again. Isabel felt the new position allowing her to reach deeper. He bowed on her back, kissing her spine, biting the skin between the shoulder blades. The onslaught became more intense, shorter, and Daniel grunted her name against her neck when she ran, pressing inside the condom.

They stood still, he still inside, she leaning on her forearms. Daniel came out carefully, got rid of the condom and returned with a blanket he kept in the closet for work nights. He covered Elizabeth, sat next to her and offered her a glass of water that had served from the dispenser.

"Thank you for being clear," he said.

"Thank you for asking," she replied.

The next day, when the study was filled again, no one noticed the difference. Only they knew that, as they crossed the corridor, the shoulder rub was deliberate and that, when signing the museum’s delivery report, Daniel’s thumb rested on the back of Isabel’s hand for two seconds more than strictly necessary. They did not talk about the future. They had agreed not to promise anything they could not fulfill. But every night, when the last light went out, the office was once again the place where desire, without giving up prudence, found its way.