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Having lunch in her office has become somewhat of a habit Ted and Rebecca have shared for a few months now. Neither of them knows how it started, but they’re not exactly complaining.
Mostly, they just sit on her couch, innocently talking about everything and nothing, laughing at the team’s antics and Beard’s latest after-hours adventures.
“How’s your salad?”
Rebecca hums with a grimace and pokes around in the dreadfully tasteless bowl of nothingness with her fork. “A bit bland, to be honest.”
“Yeah, no wonder rabbits are that jittery,” Ted says, widening his eyes. “I would be too if I only ever ate grass.” Then he goes back to happily munching on his club sandwich and chips.
“You’re ridiculous,” Rebecca says and playfully nudges him with the tip of her shoe, which proves to be a mistake. Fiery, electric pain shoots up from her toe to the very top of her head.
With a mouth full of food, Ted asks as he slides his box of chips closer to her, “Hey, you okay, boss?”
“Yes,” Rebecca answers a bit too quickly if Ted’s raised eyebrow is anything to go by. She sighs heavily. “I just moved too fast for my age. You know how it is,” she waves him off and picks up a chip with dainty fingers, and plops it into her mouth, trying her best to ignore the throbbing sensation in her feet.
Ted lets out a low whistle. “Do I ever. I recently paid a steep price for dusting the top of my fridge the other day. Nearly pulled my shoulder out of its dang socket.”
That earns him a laugh from Rebecca, though the sound of it is a bit strangled.
He eyes her warily, noting the way her legs can’t seem to get comfortable or remain even remotely still. She’s sitting as close to the edge of the sofa as possible, her spine ramrod straight as she works valiantly to keep her posture.
“You sure, Rebecca?” Ted asks carefully, very aware that he enjoys having his head attached to his neck. “’Cause, it sure looks like you’re in pain.”
It seems as though Ted noticing her discomfort is enough for her body to totally drop its defense tactic and let her feel how much pain she’s actually in. She squirms in her seat, trying to alleviate some of the agony radiating from the soles of her feet.
She hesitates for a moment, before deciding to let Ted know. “I just chose the wrong shoes this morning, that’s all.”
“Aw, heck,” Ted fucking coos, and Rebecca can feel her cheeks flush for some utterly idiotic reason or another. He dusts the salt and crumbs off his fingers and lap, before patting it. “Put your feet up.”
“No, Ted—I—you, it’s—” she flounders like a giraffe taking its first steps and it’s fucking mortifying. Ted looks at her with patient eyes, though, and gingerly prompts her with a ‘well?’ gesture with his hands.
“You don’t have to,” Rebecca finally settles on, and curses her own mind for unnecessarily embarrassing her like that.
“Happy to help,” Ted says and before Rebecca has a chance to protest, he pulls her feet onto his lap. The motion causes a wide-eyed Rebecca to slide down a bit on the sofa cushion and catches herself with her palms, so she doesn’t topple to the floor.
After a little struggle with the decorative throw, she settles with her side against the back cushions, leaning up on her elbow to pay close attention to the man currently touching her ankles.
A Victorian-era romance-level book passage doesn’t even begin to describe how good his touch feels.
When his thumb slides inside the side of her shoe, Rebecca can’t hold back the sharp intake of breath that escapes her. She entertains the thought of pulling away for a measly three seconds before she feels herself sinking into the cushions and giving in.
Pressing down against the sole of her shoe, it slips off her foot and falls with a dull thump on the carpet. Ted practices the same procedure on the other foot with well-practiced skill.
The cold air hits overheated and aching flesh, and Rebecca hisses. Ted glances up at her face, and she’s not sure what he sees there, but it’s apparently something that causes him to smirk.
She doesn’t know why, but she can feel her face burn even more with…something.
Then, his hands begin to massage the inside of her foot, as though it’s a completely normal thing for him to do. His fingers follow the swoops and valleys of her foot, and he quickly finds a pressure point that sends electric jolts through Rebecca’s entire body.
Though the aches are ever so present, it’s beginning to feel more than just relieving as she takes the tingles low in her gut into consideration. Her eyes slip shut in delicious delirium.
“How that feel?” Ted asks through a mumble, and has his voice always been this husky?
Cracking one eye open, Rebecca can tell Ted’s oblivious to the effect his touch and general presence have on her, and it makes her smile shakily.
“It’s good,” Rebecca says, her tone a tiny bit breathless. Alright, a lot of breathless. Closing her eyes again, the view in front of her too much to handle right now, Rebecca lets Ted continue his ministrations.
“Good.”
He works her muscles expertly, which is no wonder considering the fact that he has a degree in sports science, her mind supplies. He must know which muscles cause specific kinds of pain. Right?
Or is he playing her body like a fiddle, that easily?
His thumb digs firmly into the arch of her foot, and quite ironically, Rebecca’s back arches in pleasure. She notes that her breathing is getting ragged and there’s no doubt that his touch is affecting…other, more demanding areas of her body.
The circular motions of his fingers, especially his thumb, drive her insane and send tingles down her spine.
She’s glad she chose to wear a thick blazer today because she can feel her nipples straining against the fabric of her blouse – the friction it provides forces her to clench her thighs together.
Her eyebrows knit tightly together as her mouth drops open, and she realizes she’s about to have a fucking orgasm at the hands of Ted Lasso a second too late. She tries to pull her feet away, but Ted presses down at that exact moment and Rebecca can’t do anything but let the warm waves of pleasure wash over her.
It’s small, but excruciatingly electrifying as her body ripples through the aftershocks, making her gasp.
Cracking her eyes open, she finds that Ted has turned to her, looking at her now red face in amazement.
Quickly pulling her feet out of his hands, Rebecca sits up in a mortified panic, not caring that every single decorative pillow falls to the floor as she scrambles to get as far away from Ted as possible.
But Ted's eyes are wide and amused, and his lips are quivering with a half-smile. His cheeks are a bit flushed as if he’s gotten a bit sun-kissed. It’s a very good look, but Rebecca can’t let herself dwell on it for too long.
He clears his throat and strokes his thumb and forefingers over his mustache, hiding his growing grin.
“Correct me if I’m wrong here, and there’s a mighty good chance I am, but did you just have…an orgasm?”
Rebecca is absolutely horrified, and she can’t bear looking at Ted, utterly shocked at the actions of her treacherous, horny body – nothing remotely close has happened to her before. Hell, sometimes it takes her forever to get there, even at her own hands.
Her face must tell Ted everything he needs to know, because he chuckles loudly, looking like the cat who got the fucking canary. Rebecca can’t help but feel like a tiny, yellow bird right now.
“Sweet baby Jesus and Mother Mary, you totally did!” Ted is giddily excited, like a teenager who just got a peek at his first pair of tits.
“Keep your fucking voice down, the window’s open.”
Rebecca’s face is beet red, embarrassment filling her entire body and every limb, but she’s impressed by her own ability to keep her composure. Apart from the whole ‘having an orgasm in her gaffer’s lap’ thing, of course.
Ted shakes his head and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Damn. I knew I was talented with my hands, but…” he trails off with a whistle, looking at Rebecca with such mirth, she can’t help but chuckle along with him.
She’s not sure if it’s because of the mortification in her chest or Ted’s look of pure delight that does it, but she really can’t help it.
“Does…uh, does this happen to you often? I mean, could I do it again if I really set my mind to it?” Ted smirks, and Rebecca glares at him, followed by her throwing a pillow at him.
“You need to leave, Ted.” Rebecca gets up on her feet, noting that they’re not quite as sore anymore. She violently rips the blanket away from Ted, trying rather unsuccessfully to suppress her smile
“Was it the rabbit food?” Ted follows her, but Rebecca’s having none of it as she starts to usher him out of her office. “You know, as in the saying? Going at it like bunny rabbits?” Ted giggles all the way to the door, Rebecca rolling her eyes behind him.
“Have a good afternoon, Coach Lasso,” Rebecca tells him and bodily shoves him out of her office. Ted throws his head back in laughter as he trips over his own feet, his whole body shaking with it. Rebecca’s cheeks hurt from smiling.
“Hey, boss,” he calls after her, walking backward toward the stairs. “I think I have a very good idea for some new merch.”
“Oh?” Rebecca cocks her head in interest at the sudden topic change.
“Yeah, I just found out I know my way around a foot, so I thought maybe shoes?”
“Get the fuck out of my sight, Ted,” Rebecca says with a smile, leaning against the door frame, thoroughly amused by Ted’s nonchalance and teasing.
He lifts his palms up in a placating manner, before shooting her a wink that absolutely doesn’t send tingles all through her body and starts descending the stairs. No way.
Rebecca waits until she can’t hear his footsteps anymore, before thumping her forehead against the door frame, all but sliding to the floor with peals of laughter. Her head is buried in her hands at the sheer force of it when she hears another set of feet hurrying up to her office.
“Unclasp your bra and drop your knickers, Keeley Jones is in the bu— Oi, fuck, you look like Cupid’s well-shagged sister.”
Rebecca’s laughter only intensifies at that.
“Was Ted just here?” Rebecca looks up at a properly confused Keeley, tears in her eyes. “What’s up with you?”
“Don't worry about it, love.” Rebecca hoists herself up from the floor and walks back into her office to slip her shoes back on, wiping at her amused tears. “How is it going with my favorite PR manager?”