Substitute by Isobel Rey Page B

if her lips were trembling. He looked down at her. His eyes seemed cloudy, troubled. She thought she felt him pull her towards him, but it was a tiny movement, almost imperceptible. Was she dreaming it? He looked at her mouth, and his own opened slightly with the merest hint of an intake of breath. Was he going to speak, or was he …?
    A noise behind her broke the moment. She saw Nathan lift his head to look past her. His face darkened and he let go of her, suddenly setting her back on her feet and withdrawing his hands. She turned and saw Tony coming out of the stationery cupboard, adjusting his balls through his trousers. The only thing at the end of the corridor was that cupboard. It must have been obvious where she’d been.
    She turned back to Nathan, who looked thunderous. But he kept his eyes fixed on Tony.
    ‘When you’re ready, Tony, we’re waiting for you.’ He was too classy to be openly angry or sarcastic, but Alexia could feel his displeasure. She was so close to him, how could she not?
    Then he was gone, through the door again without a backward glance.
    Tony sauntered up behind her. ‘Well, now the boss definitely thinks we’re doing it, we might as well make it official – when you’re ready, beautiful!’
    He ran a hand up the side of her hip, then disappeared through the door after Nathan.
    She stood for a moment, alone in the corridor, struck dumb.
    Then she heard herself spit out the words, ‘Bastard! ‘You arrogant fucking bastard!’
    Pent-up emotion exploded from her. Hot tears welled up behind her eyes and she felt her lungs heave. She was almost hiccupping, trying to catch her breath. She ran into the nearest toilet, straight into a cubicle, and locked the door behind her. She stood breathing hard, leaning her head against the door, her hand still on the lock, as if just getting in and slamming the bolt shut was the most she could do before all her energy abandoned her.
    She felt so confused, emotions whirling, writhing, competing for attention. Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan. She was banging her forehead against the door and saying his name out loud. When he’d held her shoulders, the way he’d looked at her, what was he thinking? She felt there was almost – almost – a “moment” between them? She didn’t trust herself, she must have imagined it.
    But then what did it matter now? He’d seen Tony. Then she knew exactly what he was thinking. He hadn’t even looked back at her as he left, just put her firmly back on her feet and disappeared. The tears were running down her face now. She let them fall and just waited until they stopped. She stood with her eyes closed. An eternity seemed to pass. Just breathing in and out. She opened her eyes and remembered Tony’s words about “making it official” now their boss thought they were “doing it”.
    She hated him! But she couldn’t deny she was so turned on by him. Her panties were still soaking. She pulled some toilet paper off the roll and pulled up her skirt to wipe herself lest she stain her clothes. As she pressed the tissue to herself she felt that deep need still there, lurking, reproaching her for thinking she could ignore it.
    Her fingers seemed to move on their own, without her permission. She started to stroke her clit, like a robot. She had to get rid of this feeling as it raked at her. She pressed and stroked, the pleasure suffusing her core, but almost as if the pleasure was happening in a dream. She parted her legs, her calf muscles taut as she balanced on her heels and the tension filled her limbs.
    She closed her eyes and this time it wasn’t Tony’s face that flooded her imagination but Nathan’s. Nathan’s soft gaze as he’d held her at the door. She stroked and stroked, remembering the smell of him, the heat of him. She let out a sharp, almost silent gasp at the thought of him. She clasped her free hand to her mouth; the room was empty but the tiny sound echoed around the tiled walls and came back to