Not Safe for Work

I was also beginning to understand why Rick preferred a smaller bed to the triple California king he could have easily fit in this enormous room. Even when we separated during the night, there was only so much space. There was no canyon of cold sheets between us. No sprawling out and not brushing each other’s skin.

As we both slowly stirred, we gravitated back to each other in a series of lethargic motions that consisted of little more than me turning over and Rick sliding an inch or two toward me. Ahh. Nothing beat the feeling of being wrapped up in another person before I was even fully conscious. I’d missed waking up beside somebody. I’d missed that sleepy migration back to the middle of the bed, the drowsy mumbles of “morning,” and the careful dance of being affectionate without subjecting the other person to morning breath and killing the mood altogether.

“We should do this more often,” he murmured against my neck.

I kissed the top of his head. “I agree.”

He pressed his lips beneath my jaw. “I’d suggest staying here all day, but some of us still have to work today.”

Disappointment pressed down on my chest. “When do you have to go in?”

“Oh, I can get away with ‘telecommuting’ until about eleven. Then I have a meeting with some investors after lunch.”

“Sounds thrilling.”

“You have no idea,” he grumbled. “But there’s no rush right now. Care to join me for a shower?”

No rush, and a shower with him? Twist my arm. “I would love to.”

After we were up and moving, and the coffee was on downstairs, we stepped into the shower. Surprise, surprise—the water had barely touched us before we were wrapped up in each other. We’d just brushed our teeth, giving the kiss a strongly minty flavor, but he still tasted like him, and his kiss woke me up faster than the mint or the coffee ever would.

As hot water rushed over us, I held him closer and touched him all over. Holding him now made me all too aware of how little I’d done so recently. I didn’t feel the need to put him on his knees. I didn’t need to flog him, to growl the commands that turned us both on, to do anything besides simply feel him and taste him. Exhaustion and desperation took the place of my need for domination this time. Forget the long hours and unending work, I was worn out from not having him, and I needed him. I hadn’t realized until now, until my arms were around him beneath the hot water, how much I’d come to need him like this, and how far that need went above and beyond my craving for his submission. There would be time and energy for that later.

For now, I just needed him.

Rick broke the kiss. “You’re not making it easy to think about going into work.”

“Then don’t think about it.” I slid my hands down his back, his skin slick and hot beneath my palms. “I’m sure as hell not thinking about work.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Right now? All the things I’m going to do once I can move again.” I pulled him against me, biting my lip when our cocks rubbed together between us. “God, I just want a few nights with you. Even if we never leave the bedroom.”

“That would be heaven,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry I can’t—”

He cut me off with a kiss. “You’re here. That’s all I’m worried about right now. Well and”—he pressed his cock harder against mine—“what to do about this.”

“Fuck…”

“But you’re also tired. And so am I.” He kissed the side of my neck. “So I have an idea.”

“Hmm?”

He hesitated. “I don’t want to be, um, out of line.”

I rested my hands on his hips. “I’ll let you know if you are.”

“You’re still worn down after the last few days.” Another soft kiss. “Why don’t we go back in the bedroom, and I’ll give you a massage to help you relax.”

The thought of those hands all over my skin… God, yes.

“And if I decide I want more than a massage?”

“Anything you want.” Cool breath rushed along the side of my neck. “Say the word.” His lips skated across my skin before he lifted his head, met my eyes and whispered, “Anything to make you feel good.”

You’ve already accomplished that mission.

I cradled his face in both hands and kissed him. “We should go back in the bedroom.”

We dried off, and in the bedroom, I lay on my stomach while he searched the nightstand drawer for something. A moment later, he pulled out a small bottle. Ah, massage oil.

“Just in case we decide to do more,” he said as he poured some on his hands, “this stuff is condom safe.”

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