Drunk on Love

“That was . . . holy shit,” was all she could say.

He laughed. He’d somehow lost his pants, thank goodness. She took his hands and pulled him toward her. He understood, and crawled up her body, to lie half next to her, half on top of her, on the couch.

“Can I tell you something?” he said in her ear. She nodded.

“Every time I would walk by your office and see you sitting in there, at that big desk, I would think about how I wanted to crawl underneath it, and push your legs apart, and slide my tongue inside of you, and make you come, just like that.”

She trailed her hand all the way down his chest, down to his cock, which was hard as steel. He took one quick breath when her fingers landed on him, and then he moved slightly, to give her more access.

“You know that means I’m never going to be able to sit at my desk again without thinking of you underneath it, with my legs wide open to you, right?”

She looked up at him, and he smiled, but his eyes were on her fingers.

“That wasn’t my intention in telling you that, but wow, is that an excellent side benefit for both of us.”

She started to move her hands faster, but he stopped her.

“I need to be inside of you.” He kissed her, hard, and moved his hand back to her nipples. “As soon as possible.”

Then he dropped his head back against the couch.

“Shit. I came here straight from the inn. I didn’t plan . . . any of this when I left my house this morning. I don’t have any condoms.”

She pushed him back up.

“Bedroom is that way. Nightstand, bottom drawer.”

He jumped to his feet.

“Oh, thank God.”

She smiled as she watched him race into the bedroom. She could have just moved this whole operation in there, she realized. But she was too relaxed, too content, to think about doing anything but staying right here and waiting for him to come back.

Which he did, very quickly, and with a big smile on his face.

“That’s a very interesting bottom drawer you have there,” he said as he came back to the couch.

She laughed, and blushed a little. She’d been so single-minded in her quest to get condoms that she’d forgotten what else he’d see in that drawer. It was a little early in their relationship—if this was a relationship—for that, but he certainly didn’t seem to mind.

“Too much for your youthful eyes?” she asked him as he knelt on the couch above her.

He opened his eyes wide.

“Oh yes, absolutely. Why, I don’t even know what some of those things actually do.” He leaned forward, and whispered in her ear. “I might need you to show me.”

She hadn’t been sure, after he gave her that incredible orgasm, if she’d be up for more tonight, or if she’d be too blissful to really get into it. Well, that little whisper took care of that particular worry.

She put her hands on his knees, and ran them up to his thigh, and then onto his hard cock.

“After you kissed me in my office that day,” she said, “when I got home that night, I opened that drawer right away.”

He froze.

“Holy fuck, Margot. Please tell me you’re serious.”

She nodded. He licked his fingers and rubbed them over her nipples. She smiled.

“I felt so guilty about it. But it was all I could think of. I wanted your hands on me and your body against mine and to feel you inside of me, so I had to . . . imagine.”

He tore open the condom packet in his hand and rolled it over his cock.

“That is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. The previous record, by the way, was held by a woman who, just about a month ago, demanded to know how close my apartment was, because we both knew we needed to get each other naked as soon as possible.”

She laughed out loud as he pushed her thighs farther apart.

“I was pretty aggressive that night, wasn’t I?”

He moved his hands down to her hips.

“I fucking loved it.”

And then he thrust himself inside of her.

“Oh God, Margot. You feel so good.”

As he drove himself into her, she moved back against him, arched her back, gripped him, in search of just the right angle. They found it together, and he moved harder and faster, and she clutched at him as the waves of pleasure went through her, and they kept going, until he collapsed on top of her with a low moan.

He pulled himself off her, with clear effort, and went to the bathroom to throw away the condom. Then he came back to the couch, and she pulled him down to her.

“Well,” she said. “I’d say that was worth having to hire a new employee.”

He bit her ear, and she laughed.



* * *





THEY STAYED CURLED UP together on the couch like that for a while, until his stomach growled. Margot giggled. Luke didn’t think he’d ever heard her make such an undignified noise. Well, other than about five minutes before.

“Is that your way of telling me you want dinner?” she asked.

He lay back on the couch and pulled her on top of him.

“Absolutely, though I’m going to tell you right now, I refuse to go to the Barrel with you. Your friend Sydney intimidates me.”

She giggled again.

“She intimidates everyone. But no, we absolutely can’t go there right now. First, I don’t want to put clothes on, but second, okay, yes, Sydney will take one look at us and alert the entire bar.”

She pulled herself up, despite his attempts to keep her on top of him.

“I’ll make us pasta.”

He got up, too, and followed her to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to do that, we can order something.”

She was already filling a pot with water.

“I know, but in the time it’ll take for it to get here, I could make us pasta twice over.”

Well, he wasn’t going to complain if a hot, naked woman he’d just had excellent sex with wanted to make him dinner. She bustled around, taking eggs and cheese out of the fridge, and garlic out of the pantry.

“What can I do?”

She smiled at him.

“You can pour us some wine. There’s a bottle open in the fridge.”

He found the bottle, and then dodged around her to reach the wineglasses.

“What else?” he asked as he set her glass on the counter at her right hand.

She looked at him for a second.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you can sit at the counter there and talk to me, and—”

“And get out of your way?” he finished, moving out of the kitchen to sit at the counter.

She laughed.

“Yes, thank you. This kitchen is too small to have more than one person in it at a time.”

He looked at her, standing next to the stove, a glass of wine in one hand, a knife in the other, as she sliced garlic, and bacon sizzled next to her.

“Um. Can I also do one more thing?” He went back in the living room and picked up the silky, clingy, incredibly sexy robe she’d been wearing when he came to her door. “Not that I want you to put clothes on right now,” he said, when he came back into the kitchen, “but I’ve quickly become very attached to those breasts of yours. I don’t want them to get burned.”

She grinned at him and slid the robe on.

“Better?” she asked as she took a sip of her wine and stirred the bacon in the pan.

He shook his head.

“I mean, yes and no. That seems a lot safer, but I miss the view.” He bit his lip. “Though . . . you look pretty fantastic in that robe, I’m not going to lie.”

She’d tied it very loosely. He liked it that way.

“See, if we’d gone somewhere, or ordered food, at least one of us would have had to put actual clothes on, and that would have been terrible.” She giggled again. “I just imagined the look on Sydney’s face if I’d walked into the Barrel to pick up takeout in this robe.”

He looked up from her cleavage.

“Did she tell you that I went there, looking for you?”

Why had he just blurted that out? If Sydney had told her, which was likely, there was no need to talk about it right now.

She put down her wooden spoon and looked at him.

“No. When did you go to the Barrel looking for me?”

Oh.

“I assumed she told you. It was after that time in your office. Later that night.” She lowered her glass to the counter. “I walked over there, thinking maybe you might be there. I wanted to . . . I don’t know, see you, talk to you, apologize, something. And then I stood outside for a while and decided that if you were there, you wouldn’t welcome me coming to find you. So I turned away. Sydney saw me. I think she approved.”

Margot had an expression on her face he couldn’t decipher.

“Yeah, she would approve,” she said finally. A tiny smile came to her lips. “So do I.”

The water boiled over and hissed on the stove. Margot grabbed a big handful of pasta and dropped it in the pot and gave it a big stir.

“I think Sydney feels . . . responsible,” she said. “For what happened that first night.”

He laughed.

“Responsible? Why?”

She looked up at him from under her lashes.

“She kind of . . . dared me to hit on you that night. She was very proud of herself when we left together.” She made a face. “That was, until I talked to her on Monday.”

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