Page 64 of The Dicktionary Club

‘Oh my God!’ I said.

‘Jesus Christ! Look at the size of that bad boy!’ Philip burst out laughing, and I felt my insides curl.

I slammed shut the drawer behind him, pulled tissues from the box in his hand and began mopping my desk. My face was radiating enough warmth to heat the entire city.

‘Well, Ella! You keep surprising me, don’t you?’ He really waslaughing loudly.

I ignored him, not knowing what to say. His guffawing continued. Eventually, when my desk had been saved from the orange tsunami, I turned to him.

‘It’s not mine!’ I spat.

Philip pouted and arched a brow as if he didn’t believe me. I could feel the anger build up inside. I vaulted the soaking wet tissues right at him.

‘It’s not mine, I said!’ I could hear the thunder behind my voice.

Eyes wide, Philip grabbed the soggy tissues, then threw them directly back at me. I dodged out of the way.

I paused, noticing the large orange stain on his pristine white shirt, and held my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh.

Philip glanced down.

‘And now you owe me a shirt!’ he hummed, dabbing at the stain, but smiling under his pretence at anger. ‘It’s Armani, in case you were wondering!’

We paused for a few more seconds, then I began to giggle. He joined in, shaking his head.

‘I don’t suppose you want me to take it off?’ he said, his voice much lower now. ‘You could give it a quick clean for me?’

I shook my head, reaching for the dirty dishes as originally planned. ‘I don’t suppose you want to be hit by a shoe again?’ I replied, smirking before taking the plates through to the little office kitchen.

I was scraping the leftover Chinese into the bin when I heard him enter. ‘I can help you with that,’ he said and I sensed him walk up behind me. Next, I could feel his warm body press against my back. His hand lowered to mine clutching the dish.

I felt my breathing change, as I clung on to it. Short, shallow breath took over me, and I stood rigid, completely unable to move.

‘Ella?’ Philip said softly.

I turned slightly towards him; his face hung over my shoulder, his dark eyes stared back to mine, and I felt goosebumps travel down my body.

‘No. It’s fine. I got this, thanks. I have a certain way I like to wash them anyway.’

He pulled a face of amusement. ‘OK.’ Then he headed back out the kitchen.

I stood there for a few more seconds, catching my breath.Why does he make me feel like this?But I allowed the feeling to pass, before eventually returning to the sink, where I began double washing, rinsing and drying off the plates.

*

When I walked back to my desk, Philip was resting his arms on top of it.

‘You opened the drawer again, didn’t you?’ I crossed my arms suspiciously, feeling my red neck return.

‘I didn’t!’ He held his hands up, then shrugged. ‘OK, I had a little peek. But can you blame me? I’m just trying to understand when you have the time at work.’

I sighed loudly, unwilling to engage in a discussion about sex toys with Scotland’s biggest playboy.

‘Oh, come on, tell me!’ Philip pressed. ‘Do you take it to the bathroom?Oh, wait. I get it!’ he announced as if he had just solved the identity of Jack the Ripper. ‘That beast is why you have so many late nights “in the office”, isn’t it?’

I shook my head, unimpressed. ‘Yeah, that’s it. I hang out in my office when everyone’s gone home for the day, hoping the cleaner catches me with a huge purple dildo inside me.’

‘Rarrrr .?.?. Risqué! I like it.’

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