Not helping my concentration, Cole nattered in my ear about the Chicago conference he had just attended as a keynote speaker. His words blended with those I typed, his deep rumbling baritone like a warm hand against the back of my neck.He'd been out of the office for three days and I missed him like hell. My ears missed him, my eyes missed him, my nose missed him. Only faint traces of his scent remained in the room, just a teasing hint of citrus and vanilla that clung to his leather office chair from the long hours he spent in it. I turned into the chair and quietly inhaled like a junkie sniffing a line of coke. I expelled the air in a question. "Are you sure you downloaded the file? What did you name it?""Something South Bendy." The engines on the jet muted his laugh, but I felt the same familiar heat spark deep in my gut as if his lips were against my ear. He did that sometimes, his lips against my ear, a conspiratorial whisper dripping from his honeyed tongue. He forgets who he is, who I am, makes me forget.
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