Page 16 of Strictly Against Policy

“Good morning,” she said, sounding as normal and as composed as ever.

I coughed instead of responding, and I got off the floor. Instead of following her into the break room, I went outside to toss the broken doorknob into the dumpster. It was an excuse to buy me some time to cool off with the frosty morning air. My skin was still sizzling hot because of last night.

The scent of fresh coffee brewing greeted me as I walked back into the pharmacy. The rumbling of the air vents overhead was light, and the heater had yet to warm up the place. Good, because I was already sweating.

I didn’t know what to do or how to handle the situation with Lina. No matter how much I despised her personally, she was still my staff pharmacist. The way my body reacted last night was a clear HR violation. One even worse than me telling her I never liked her.

She was by the sink, stirring the contents in her mug. I took one look at her. That was all I could do.

“Imsorry.” The words slurred out of my mouth.

The sound of her stir stick sloshing around in her coffee stopped. She inhaled sharply. I gathered the courage to look at her again. When I did, that mouth of hers was already open. I glanced at it—at the way I never noticed how her lips were heart-shaped, how they were naturally downturned into a frown.

I once thought she was this icy and emotionless robot—someone who saw herself as the center of the universe and made sure everyone knew it with her scowls. But . . . How wrong had I been?

“I’m sorry,” I repeat, louder and clearer. “For everything that happened last night.”

The calm exterior of her demeanor cracked as a blood-red flush flared from her scalp to her ears past her neck to her hands. I had never seen anyone’s hands blush before, but now I had. I stared at her red neck for a moment. She was wearing a tight black turtleneck today. I tried not to look at her chest.

“It’s not all your fault. I-I’m sorry about what happened last night too,” she murmured. “The items that fell out of my bag were⁠—”

I held out a hand to stop her. I choked up three quick, sharp strings of sentences. “No need to explain yourself, Dr. Lee. Those were personal items. And it’s unnecessary for you to elaborate on such things.”

The room became too stifling. I panted out a breath as Lina diverted her attention to my shoes. That simple glance caused my memories from last night to resurface.

A bright pink vibrator flashed across my mind. It had glided across the tiled floor, switching on during its tumble out of the box and oscillating at its highest tempo. When its tip landed against my foot, I could feel its strength through the sole of my black Oxfords.

Upon seeing the sex toy, without hesitating at all, my mind envisioned it stimulating a brown-pink clit as a soft, muffled moan shuddered out of a woman. The contrast between the bold color of that smooth, medical-grade silicone tip and the clit was so fucking sexy.

She was dripping as a hand moved the sex toy down to her cunt, gathering the slick arousal there. The hand, large and with protruding veins, slid the vibrator back up and applied the tiniest of pressure onto her wet clit. The images continued . . . A flick of the wrist with the vibrator against the little bud. Then, the sweetest reward of a breathy gasp filled the air.

‘Oh my God, Jonathan,’ I heard Lina’s voice⁠—

No, I interrupted myself, tucking the rest of that sick fantasy into the back of my mind. Muggy, warm air from the vents blew over my face. I undid one of the buttons of my shirt. I looked up at Lina and exhaled a long, rough breath. What the hell was this woman doing to me?

“None of it will ever happen again,” said Lina with icy certainty. Her calm and unbothered demeanor returned to its rightful place. Any other ounce of emotion was wiped clean from her face.

“It most definitely won’t,” I agreed, undoing the buttons of my sleeve.

It was so fucking hot and suffocating in this room. I rolled up my sleeves as I walked over to the cabinet where we stored our mugs. I had already drunk a cup of coffee at home, but I knew I needed another. As I moved toward the coffee maker, Lina backed away so abruptly her coffee spilled.

Good. She knew to keep her distance from me now.

“I also wanted to apologize for not helping you close last night,” I stated as I poured myself a cup of steaming coffee.

After Lina’s flimsy bag had ripped in half and her vibrator burst out, I handed the toy back to her. Once I had placed that damned item in her hand, I grabbed my things and was out the door. I never bothered to look at her. It would’ve been far too much with my cock throbbing with a pulse of its own.

“It’s alright, Dr. Lo. I didn’t need your help in the first place,” she said coolly.

We were silent for some time as we sipped the strong coffee Lina had made. I didn’t bother adding any sugar or cream to the bitter coffee. I caught myself thinking, What’s the use of sweetening the acrid relationship between Lina and me?

I hesitated before opening my mouth again, feeling as awkward and clumsy as a prepubescent boy. “Maybe we should call a truce,” I mumbled.

Out of the corner of my eyes, Lina perked up. She didn’t say anything. I turned to her and looked her square in the eyes. They were such a dark shade of brown; they were practically black.

“Again, I’m sorry for everything. As you said last night and this morning, it won’t happen again.” I stuck my hand out to her as a peace offering. “Truce?”

She peered down at my hand like I had done something offensive. Her shiny lips pursed. “A truce?” A slow blink drew her sparse but long black lashes down her cheeks. “Apart from the events last night, I did nothing wrong, sir. Believe me, that one was personal. But I had done nothing up until that point.”