Chapter Text
“And just where do you think you’re going, little bird?” Sandor rasped from behind her. His arm was firmly braced against the door just inches from her head, preventing her departure. “This conversation is not finished.”
Swallowing hard, Sansa barely turned her head to the side, garnering her a distinct eyeful of Sandor’s rock-hard bicep. God, she had so many snarky things that she could say right now, but nothing would come out of her mouth; she was that tongue-tied.
Sandor moved forward, stepping into her personal space as she remained facing the door. “Tell me, Sansa, what would you think if I told you when I opened your still-running laptop to perform the necessary diagnostics, a Word file called “Private Maneuvers” remained open on your desktop?”
Shit!
Her heart started thudding violently in her chest. How could she have been so stupid? She must have forgotten to close her latest fanfic and to power down her computer in her rush to get out the door last night to make it on time her yoga class at the gym.
“I’d. . .I’d ask if you read any of it?” Sansa shimmied around in a circle in the slip of space between them, now leaning with her back against the door and staring into Sandor’s darkened countenance.
He drew his bottom lip under the top row of his teeth as he studied her closely. After what felt like an eternity, he finally answered her question. “I may have inadvertently read a few paragraphs.”
Sansa squeezed her thighs together when Sandor’s gaze temporarily lowered to her décolletage. Her pulse quickened when his gaze raised and locked with hers.
“So. . .what did you think?”
God save her but Sandor looked utterly sinful. “You’re quite talented, Miss Stark.”
“You. . .you thought it was good?” Sansa knew she sounded breathless but didn’t care as he stared at her mouth.
Sandor nodded slowly, tilting his head slightly. “I did.” He leaned toward her, looming over her impossibly close now, crowding her on purpose. “Have no fear,” he all but whispered, “I won’t tell corporate about your dirty little secret here at work. Your secret is safe with me, remember?”
The sexual tension blazing between the two of them was so damn hot right now, Sansa was about to erupt like a volcano. Before she could rethink her actions, she grabbed his red polo with both hands, jerking him forward to kiss him with everything she could muster. When he let go of the door, reaching for her narrow waist and pulling her flush against his firm chest, she moaned into his mouth as he parted his lips, darting his tongue out to swipe it tentatively along her upper lip. Opening wide, she allowed him to explore her mouth. She grasped onto his long hair and hung on tightly as his hands wandered freely down her backside, roughly kneading her flesh.
Feeling his burgeoning erection nudging her stomach through his slacks, Sansa pulled back sharply, not releasing his head, trying to catch her breath and to process the dramatic change in the dynamic between them.
“This. . .changes. . .nothing. . .” Sansa gasped for air, lowering her hand to rest on his chest. “You’re still. . .a giant smart ass.”
“And you. . .” Sandor breathed raggedly in reply, “are still the most. . .infuriatingly haughty woman. . .I’ve ever met.”
Both lunged forward at the same time, each equally intent on devouring the other. He shoved her against his closed office door, the thudding sound of the door rattling on the hinges echoing through his office. Sansa, who was as equally far-gone as he was, moaned loudly when he lowered his assault, nipping and sucking on her creamy neck exposed by the v-neck of her blouse. Encouraged by her response, Sandor slid his hands under her tasteful black knee-length skirt, gripping her legs, lifting her into the air, silently encouraging her to wrap her long legs around his waist. Catching on quickly, she did just that, yelping slightly when he spun her around mid-air and sat her down on his disorganized chaos of a desk.
Sandor pulled back momentarily, seeking her permission to pursue this further. Sansa, emboldened by the raging lust burning in his eyes, reached for his shirt, grabbing it at his waist and jerking upward, untucking his polo and shoving her hands under the hemline. The delicious, wrecked groan she earned when she scratched her nails on his hairy stomach made her core throb.
She gnawed her kiss-swollen lips, feeling the definition of his furry pecs as she explored his chest. “Such a good boy. Always so by-the-book.”
“‘By-the-book,' eh?” Sandor replied. He inched his right hand still wedged under Sansa’s skirt across the expanse of her thigh. “We’ll see about that.” He lowered his head to bite at her neck, effectively cutting off any witty retort that she could think of at the moment. His hand began to roam toward her womanhood, slowly making his way toward his target. And when his palm finally made contact through the multiple layers of cotton panties and silky hosiery, she couldn’t stop the guttural noise from escaping her lips. Shamelessly, she ground herself into his palm, wiggling and writhing while scrubbing her clothed privates against his fingers. She gasped when he finally managed to breech her restrictive clothing and brushed his fingers through her wet folds.
“Oh, fuck. . .” Sansa whimpered the instant that Sandor’s finger made contact with that sweet spot at the top of her mound, twirling his finger in lazy circles like he had all the time in the world.
“Only if you ask nicely,” Sandor chuckled darkly. He reared back and pulled his hand out of her underwear without warning.
Sansa hissed at him through clenched teeth. “I hate you.”
"Tsk, tsk. Such animosity," Sandor taunted, "and here I thought we were making progress."
"I'll show you progress." Her hand darted downward, gripping his hardened erection just this side of rough.
“Fuck,” he gasped. His eyes bulged when she squeezed, not ungently.
“Only if you ask nicely.” She liked it when his face contorted into a delectable amalgam of appreciation for her ability to turn the tables on him so damn quickly and of honest-to-goodness hunger for more.
“You want to take this elsewhere?” Sandor growled, swirling his hips as Sansa continued to cop a feel.
Releasing her hold of his manhood, she brushed aside a lock of his hair which was blocking part of the burned side of his face. To her delight, he didn’t pull away.
Funny how a little fanfiction got all this started today. . .
“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Sansa answered, not bothering to mask the desire in her voice.
In a flurry, she shoved Sandor off her. She rose to her feet and adjusted her underwear. She stuck her tongue out at him when he laughed, turning to grab her purse, knowing full-well he could see her grinning as they prepared to leave his office. She watched keenly as he lunged for his computer, smashing the lid closed, and yanked his brown messenger bag off the floor by his desk chair.
“Ladies first,” Sandor purred. He jerked open his office door, using a fair amount of flourish as he bowed her direction.
“Remember that when we’re alone.” Exiting his office, she remembered that three techies were still on the clock.
By the table full of computers stood Dontos, Lancel, and Podrick, all three young men frozen in place. Their faces were scrunched into an odd mix of both fascination and horror.
Nudging Sansa with his massive hand, Sandor got her to step out of the doorwar. “Go home,” he said to his perplexed subordinates. “Enjoy your weekend, fellas. We’ll finish these on Monday.” With that command, he took Sansa by her hand, tugging her along behind him swiftly as the three stupefied onlookers gaped.
As Sandor burst out of the glass double-doors of the IT Department, Sansa burst out into a fit of laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Sandor pushed the button to call the lift to their floor.
“Have you ever watched Blackwater Down?” she asked, grinning up at Sandor playfully. She felt slightly dizzy yet giddy as they continued to hold hands.
“That über-cheesy, sappy love story marketed as an espionage tale?” he huffed as the bell chimed, signaling the lift’s arrival. “Yeah, I’ve seen it.”
“Don’t like it, eh?” Sansa asked as they stepped on the lift.
As Sansa pushed the button to take them to the main floor, she glanced up to see the wicked look on his face.
“I liked your version of the story much better,” he rasped, pulling her toward him as he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her hard as the doors to the lift finally closed.