Red Folder, Simmering Desire

Joe didn’t just run; he sprinted. The red folder stayed clamped tight in his grip as his shoes squeaked around the corner. His mind raced with connections: Phero-Bone, the Amazonian plant strain, Scarlett’s fieldwork. After the way she’d boldly flashed him that morning, he refused to let anything derail their night.

He skidded to a stop outside the lab’s Clean Room entrance, breathing hard.

Alan Connor, the middle-aged tech with thinning hair and thick glasses, nearly jumped. “Jesus, Joe! You trying to give me a heart attack?”

"Don't blame me for your health problems." He replied.

Before Alan could recover, a smooth, commanding voice cut through the air.

“He’s here for me.”

Tiffany Thomas stepped into view, radiating authority and raw, magnetic sensuality. Joe’s boss was in her mid-to-late thirties, tall and powerfully built, with jet-black hair cascading sharp, striking features. Her red-soled heels elongated her toned legs, while a fitted black pencil skirt poured over her hips and thick, thighs like liquid ink. A red silk blouse clung to her generous curves, and a deep, soft cleavage that rose and fell with each breath. She moved with the confident grace of a woman who knew exactly how she looked.

Tiffany looked Joe up and down, her crimson lips curving into a knowing smirk. “Glad you could make it so quickly, White Knight.”

The nickname still made him grin. It had stuck after the cafeteria incident. Tiffany had always shown a particular fondness for him; which was why she torpedoed those interns that disrespected his lovely little Brooke; he was protective, brilliant, and professional. And handsome, she thought.

“Jesus…” she murmured, watching him bent slightly to catch his breath. She stepped closer and placed a firm, warm hand on his shoulder, the touch steady and lingering just a second longer than strictly necessary. “Did you actually sprint the whole way?”

“Amazon… red folder…” he panted, straightening up.

Tiffany’s hand gave his shoulder a light squeeze before she let go. “Breathe. I’m not losing you to a heart attack today.” Her eyes held his with clear affection.

“Phero-Bone,” he said, shaking his head. “They really went with that name?”

She rolled her eyes, “Some idiot in Med Tech joked during the briefing. It stuck. Potent stuff; extreme blood flow increases. Scarlett ran the initial data. If it hit human trials unchecked, we’d have more than just satisfied customers. Cardiac risks. Bodies instead of boners.”

Alan chimed in, “So… it’s a dick pill?”

Tiffany shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Joe bit back a grin.

“Whatever,” Tiffany said, waving it off. “It’s dead. I’ve ordered a full scrap; samples, notes, the mother plant. Everything gets torched in Chamber 4. No traces. Too risky.”

Relief flooded Joe. Good. This wouldn't ruin tonight. He could still meet Scarlett, still chase the heat that had been building between them.

“Hey Ms. Thomas, what’s going—oh! Hey Joe!” Scarlett's voice cut in.

Scarlett appeared behind Tiffany, arms full of documents. The second her baby-blue eyes locked on him, her entire face brightened with open delight. A warm smile spread across her lips as she hugged the folder tighter to her chest, unintentionally lifting and pressing her perky breasts upward against her blouse. There he is, she thought, a fresh pulse of heat blooming low in her belly. God, he looks even better than this morning. I can't wait for tonight… to finally feel those hands all over me.

The air between them crackled.

Tiffany noticed immediately. Her gaze flicked between them; Scarlett’s flushed cheeks, the way her body angled instinctively toward Joe, and the way Joe’s eyes kept drifting to the sway of Scarlett’s hips in her tight skirt, the subtle rise of her chest. Tiffany’s smirk deepened with understanding. She’d suspected something was simmering between them for weeks, especially after that casual get-together over drinks a couple months back. The way Joe’s eyes had lingered on Scarlett across the table, the way Scarlett had leaned in close whenever he spoke… the chemistry had been undeniable even then.

Look at them, Tiffany thought, a slow curl of heat stirring low in her own body. They’re practically vibrating with want. I wonder how long they’ve been holding back… and how hard he’s going to take her tonight. A flicker of playful envy mixed with her genuine fondness for Joe. She wouldn’t mind being on the receiving end of that kind of hunger herself.

“Hello, Scarlett,” Tiffany said smoothly, her tone professional but laced with amusement. “Great work on the data. I assume you’ve seen the red notice?”

Scarlett nodded, tucking a blonde strand behind her a playful pout about her lips. “Yeah. It’s a shame… it could’ve helped a lot of people.” Her eyes kept darting back to Joe, the promise in them clear: Later. You and me. All that heat we’ve been holding back.

Tiffany nodded. “Maybe. But we’re not handing out heart attacks just so men can get lucky.” She glanced once more at the obvious chemistry, “Come on... let’s get this wrapped up. Alan, ready to fire?”

“Standing by,” Alan replied.

The three of them; Scarlett, Tiffany, and Joe; stepped up to the decontamination chamber. Tiffany led the way, her powerful hips rolling confidently with every step. But Joe’s focus kept snapping back to Scarlett: the way her skirt hugged the curve of her ass, and the heated glances she kept sending him.

Scarlett walked close enough that their arms brushed repeatedly, I want him so badly, she thought, biting her lip. That red lace tonight is just the beginning.

Tiffany, ever observant, caught every stolen look and subtle touch. A small, knowing smile played on her lips as she watched them. The night ahead was clearly going to be anything but ordinary.And for Joe, it couldn’t come soon enough