2
the streets, he absentmindedly noticed that the sun seemed to be shining for the first time all week. It gave Dave little comfort—the rays of light were weak as his constitution. He was jumpy. He hated feeling any sort of negative emotion rise into his personal space. But his sister, she just couldn’t let up. Now that he began to pull away just the slightest bit, he realized how much patience and understanding he normally showed. Where had it gone? But honestly, he thought to himself, how much chaos and nagging was a person supposed to take?
He could deal with Harmony’s issues, but for her to come at him like that. Suggest that they were one and the same, when she’d never taken care of a thing for him in his entire life—it was ludicrous, but also extremely painful.
Dave pushed the conversation from his mind. He always believed that the actions of others were not his to control. He could only control how he reacted to those actions. Yet now, in this moment, Dave had the insane sensation that some greater force was pulling at his strings.
The firm was empty when Dave arrived. He made the decision, after driving around for a good half hour, that he should finish the rest of the work he’d not gotten to on Friday—thanks to Desiree’s continuous distractions.
And as if the Devil was summoned, there she appeared in the flesh.
Dave had his own set of keys to the office—he was shocked to find Desiree was offered the same convenience. She hadn’t spotted him yet, which was fine with Dave. She was on the phone and pacing the floor of her office in her customary designer heels—back and forth. He watched her for a few moments, hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman behind the façade; he was sure there was a heart somewhere deep inside.
He was just slipping into his desk as he caught the tail end of her conversation. “Yeah, Tuesday is perfect. Thanks, you’re the best!”
She hung up the phone, a genuine smile lit up her face before her attention was directed towards the small cough Dave tried to hold in. Desiree swung around, her eyes alert and rapid as she scanned for a possible threat. Her gaze quickly found the disturbance—her face flushing with pleasurable surprise.
She dropped her phone onto her desk and made her away across the office towards him. Dave didn’t even try to ignore her—seeing as they were the only two souls in the place. He thought back to J’s advice and figured a different approach might garner more effective results.
Before she could open her mouth, Dave spoke up, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation. Was that your boyfriend?” he asked boldly.
She raised both eyebrows as she reached him, “No boyfriend, free as a bird,” she practically purred.
“A date, then?” he pushed—using the same aggressive and intrusive manner she approached him with.
But Desiree was smart. She was already onto his little game. Dave hated that he had to play one at all.
“Why?” she asked as she slid her glorious body slowly around his desk until she was positioned behind him. She bent over slowly. “Are you jealous?” she hissed against his ear.
Dave closed his eyes as he focused his mind. “Just curious how you choose to spend your free time.”
She paused. He waited.
“So now you’re interested in me? Why is that?” he could hear the disdain seeping into her tone.
Dave shrugged, “Why not?”
She really didn’t like the sound of that. She slapped her hand down on the desk directly in front of him. “Why not?” she repeated, clearly incredulous.
“I figured if you were going to make it so easy...”
Dave chanced a glance over his shoulder at her. She looked amused.
“Really, David? Do you honestly expect me to believe that?” she asked as she pulled him back into his chair, her body slinking around him like a boa constrictor. She came around to rest right on the edge of his desk, so that her legs were trapping his between her own. “What is it? Are you afraid of me?” she taunted, reaching her long crimson claws out to pop open the first few buttons on his shirt. “Do you not know how to...handle me? Someone so young and beautiful...”
Dave could feel his heart rate increasing. The anxiety of being trapped and the guilt that would follow raced across his mind—he could not allow this succubus to consume him. He tried to pull away but she increased the pressure of her legs against him.
Dave felt himself wince. Desiree’s smile grew once again. “You underestimate me, David. I work out 6 days a week, I have a personal trainer for 3 of those days...my thighs are steel. You can’t get away,” she leaned closer, pulling herself directly onto his lap as her mouth breathed against his, “And part of me thinks that you really don’t want to.” She ground her hips against his, her skirt sliding up her thighs, exposing her garters as she traced Dave’s hands over her silky skin. Dave resisted the urge to pull away before he had his answer.
“Did you send the olive pizza?” he asked quietly, letting her believe she was about to make a victorious kill.
Desiree continued to rub against him, sensing she was close to breaking him with her sexual power. “Is that some kind of coded message?” she breathed as she grabbed Dave’s hand and shoved it between her legs, moaning at the contact.
Dave gasped in shock—her bare and very wet flesh against his fingers jolted him back into reality as he forced her to break her hold on him. He pushed her off his lap as he stumbled back, staggering to his feet and breathing roughly.
He felt numb, incapable of speech. But his body did not react to her—it was, in fact, the opposite. He felt dirty, used—as if he’d never feel aroused again.
She held herself against the desk, watching him with the first sign of vulnerability he’d seen from her usually devious gaze. Dave ran a hand over his face, the one she hadn’t assaulted.
“Is this proof enough?” he whispered, gesturing to his lack of erection through his thin pants, feeling sick and incredibly crude in the process. “Do you get it now? I. Don’t. Want. You.”
She was furious, he saw her switch flip. The confirmation of all her insecurities thrown back in her face—the darkness that entered her eyes foretold of ominous retribution.
“Fuck you, David,” she seethed with venom. “Let your wife keep your limp dick anyway.”
Dave was finally seeing her truth. It allowed him a small sliver of empathy. “Desiree, I’m sorry—“
This only seemed to enrage her further. “Why is it that every time someone fucks up, they always say I’m sorry? Like it means anything? It means nothing,” she spat as she fled on her heels, back into her office with a slam of the door.
Dave dropped his head against his chest, at least he was sure of one thing: Desiree did not have a hand in the recent pranks. How could she? He thought. She knew absolutely nothing about him and probably cared even less. She just wanted her way—she wasn’t about to interfere in his personal life just because he turned her down. She’d find a new victim soon anyway, after she stopped pouting like a child.
Dave packed up quickly and left the office, still trying to figure out why he apologized to her—all he’d done was turn her tricks back around, but only because Desiree DeLongo literally backed him into a corner and he refused to feel threatened.