Her hips pistoned up and into his hands while he licked and circled her clit with his tongue. Gone was the hope of staying quiet, and she moaned and muttered his name, clutching at his head, the counter edge, the cabinets behind her head. “Graham, Gra—oh! Stop! You ha-have to st-st-stop or I’ll—”
He straightened, positioned his cock at her entrance, and thrust hard into her. She closed around his erection with tight heat. His six-foot-two height gave him just enough leverage to ease in and out of her snug opening. She clawed at his back through his shirt. He might carry marks later, and he’d wear them proudly.
The sound beside his ear was nearly a scream when she fluttered inside, around him, then came. He followed her over the edge of the climax, all but draped over her and the countertop.
*
WHAT a lunch break.
The thought made her giggle, then send a silent thank-you to Reagan for insisting she give noontime nookie as try.
“Laughing while a man is still inside you isn’t very kind,” Graham admonished, nipping at her shoulder. He was still half on top of her, breathing heavily. She patted his sweaty back in a there, there gesture.
“Just thinking about how I’ll never be able to think about a lunch hour the same way again.”
“No kidding. I think I—fuck.”
She blinked at the ceiling. “Well, okay, but do you think we could take a five minute break first?”
“No, I . . . damn.” He pulled from her in a wet slide, then quickly grabbed the roll of paper towels and handed her a few. “I forgot the condom. Kara—”
“We’re good. I’m covered and clean. Which you would have known if I’d mentioned it, and I hadn’t. That’s on me.”
“Same. I mean, clean. Not covered, because, well . . .” He indicated where he was wiping at his half-erect penis. “Not covered, as they don’t yet make male birth control pills. That was irresponsible of me. I’m an asshole.”
“You’re not an asshole. It was wonderful to be wanted that much.” It had been like two animals mating, not two mature adults. Fantastic. Refreshing. Needed. “Don’t be hard on yourself,” she demanded, cupping his cheek. When he fixed his shorts, took their paper towels and tossed them at the kitchen trash can—two points—she noticed he wouldn’t look at her. “Graham.”
“I should have been more careful. Especially with you. When you know what—damn,” he muttered again when she felt a cold chill sweep through her. “That wasn’t right, either. Kara, I’m fucking up all over the place today. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Maybe with another man, she could have read it differently. But with Graham, she believed his apology sincerely. He would never insult her, insult her son purposefully. “You’re right, I do know what the repercussions are. At eighteen, I didn’t. Or, maybe intellectually, I did, because hello, health class. But what eighteen-year-old can know that for sure? I’m an adult. I trust you. I know you respect me. It’s different.”
He let his forehead drop to hers, and he simply waited. Breathing with her, until she couldn’t tell if her rhythm had matched his, or his matched hers. They were simply in tandem now. “You humble me with your faith. I should be more careful with you. You’re too important to be careless.”
“Have a little faith in yourself, please. I do. You’re not careless. It was unbelievable to be wanted like that. Hell, Graham, you couldn’t even get my pants off.”
“Or mine. God, you do something to me.” He hugged her gently, as if she were a precious, fragile thing to him and he wanted to surround and protect her. Insulate her from all things. The thought made her eyes sting, so she buried her nose in his neck and breathed in. “We’re combustible.”
That got a laugh out of him. “Can we take this back to the bedroom, or do you need to go?”
She looked over his shoulder at the kitchen clock. Judging travel time, plus traffic, she said, “I don’t think my lunch hour is quite over yet. I could be persuaded to look at the dessert menu before I go.”
That made him laugh harder. Standing up straight, he gripped the backs of her thighs so she had to wrap her legs around his hips. “You’ve got a habit of carrying me to bedrooms.”
“They don’t make a patch for that. Guess I’m stuck with the habit.”
“Such a shame,” she said, drawing a pattern on his back while he walked.
She had to tell him the rest. Had to tell him not to get attached. To apologize for letting things get this far, letting things evolve so much that two hearts could easily be broken when it ended.
Maybe three hearts.
But the illusion of a happy couple with nothing but bright skies ahead was too tempting. When he laid her down on his bed and finished stripping her properly, she decided the storm clouds could stay on the horizon. At least until tomorrow.