Work Text:
Just Another Meeting. 1/1.
Miranda adjusted in her seat. This would not do. Not at all.
Andrea had worked a finger into the tie around her neck and was slowly working back and forth, back and forth as she loosened it slightly. Then as an after thought her fingertip lightly trailed around the barely loose area between the heated flesh and the slightly coarse fabric.
Miranda bit her lip. She shuffled in her seat and rearranged the papers on the table. Her trousers were beyond tight and bordering on painful. The meeting would never end. A flush had begun around her nipples and was spreading up her body. What was Nigel saying? Why was he talking about a saloon? Well, I never.
Andrea placed her palm against her chest and then seemed to catch herself in the moment. She sat up in her seat, looked around the assembled team members and then her eyes glanced toward Miranda.
The moan slipping from Andrea’s lips as she sat forward nearly caused an echoing one to fall from Miranda. She felt her blood rush south.
Andrea swallowed her arousal and then slipped the tie back up the small space she had loosened it. Her fingers couldn’t help caressing the green knot as if to check for a crease in the perfect windsor knot.
Pressing the papers in her hand down on the desktop, Miranda leaned back to make room in her lap for the unrelenting hardness throbbing in time with her heartbeat. “What are you talking about, Nigel?” It would do as a way to bring her up to speed in the meeting as well as breaking the silent tension between herself and her assistant.
Sucking in a breath at the interruption, Nigel merely rewound and answered as if it were the most normal conversational turn he’d even been met with. If he could sense the tension between the two women, then he did not let on. If he thought that Miranda had been thinking with her little head, well… Miranda already knew that he thought that now didn’t she.
Brought back up to speed in moments, Miranda accepted his suggestion and the meeting shifted down the long tick boxes on the agenda. Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her. The meeting will end. Then you can…
Stop. Miranda pressed her palm flat against the desk once more, hard enough that it would seem she meant to meld the papers into each other. It would not do to think of what you would do with her once the room was empty, once you had her in your arms again, once that tie… No. Stop. Just focus on Nigel in a saloon.
Would Nigel have a cigar?
Well. Why wouldn’t he?
Miranda looked toward Andrea, perhaps to share the thought of Nigel in a saloon. She swallowed her arousal as she watched the brunette. She’s done it again. The tie is loose from her neck and, without a thought in the world, she’s playing with it with her finger the way she slipped a finger against my cock, so that she didn’t tie the knot too tight.
Tight. My pants are too tight. She seems to like the tie to be tight. She’s pushed that green knot up again, again.
The tie was around my…
Stop. Miranda. Just stop.
She was tight around me. She pushed up and then came down again and again.
It was all so tight. I couldn’t. No, I couldn’t. Not with that tie there. Not with all of them in here.
Oh. God. Miranda. She called my name over and over.
Miranda coughed her low someone-is-going-to-be-punished cough. Everyone was silent.
“Coffee.” The editor’s voice was a whisper.
Andrea squealed as she shot to her feet, tightened the tie around her neck, instead of Miranda’s cock, and slipped out of the room with an almost bow.
“Well?” Miranda rolled her eyes at the others.
Nigel had the nerve to wink at her. “Melody Film Ranch in Newhall, California would be the perfect set up for the photoshoot. They have just wrapped for the season of Deadwood.”
She trusted Nigel, but there was trust and then there was trust. The entire meeting could have been manipulated by her friend with the ever more pesky attention to detail and almost mind-reading ability to understand her. Then again, she could always cancel it once she saw the details on paper in a lucid moment. Nigel had never steered her wrong before. Teased. Cajoled. Spurred. Even cursed. But never wrong.
“Make it so.” Miranda inclined her head to him in a gesture that spelled out trust, thanks, and ‘I know that you know that I know that you know’ all in one.
END
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