Open decision

Ruby pushes off the counter, collects her mug, and gives you one last look that holds none of the earlier sisterly softness.

“Let me know when you have made a decision,” she says, voice quiet but clear. Then she walks out of the kitchen and back toward the HR side of the floor, cycling-toned frame disappearing around the corner without a backward glance.

You stay where you are, cock still rigid against your trousers, the detailed offer she just made echoing in your head. Keen interest twists through you, sharp and immediate. The thought of Ruby on her knees, of her athletic body taking every inch without complaint, of finally having an outlet that is not a bathroom stall or another cold rejection from Natasha, sits heavy and tempting.

At the same time a low current of guilt and anxiety runs underneath it. You have never let yourself believe this was on the table. Ruby has always felt safe, almost familial. The one exception was years ago at a staff birthday party, a late-night moment in a corridor when the drinks had loosened everything and she had stood a little too close, eyes lingering, the air between you charged for a handful of seconds before someone interrupted and the chance vanished. You had filed it away as a near miss and never spoken of it. Now she has put the offer in plain language and walked away, leaving you hard, conflicted, and very aware that the decision is entirely yours.