“Don’t work too hard while I’m gone,” she said, pressing her body against his.
He pulled her closer and kissed her. “Hurry back.”
***
When she returned, he was still in the same spot on the couch.
“How was the movie?” he asked.
“It was good. You might not have enjoyed it quite as much. There were no car chases or explosions.”
She went into the kitchen and returned with a glass of bourbon. “You look like you could use a drink.”
“You always know just what I need,” he said, taking a sip.
She sat down next to him. “Which client is having the problem?”
“FBI,” he said putting his glass down on the table. “We encountered a problem with the forum.”
“Will you have to go to headquarters again?”
“No. I can work on it from here.”
“Did you figure out how to solve it?”
“Yeah. I just wish I knew if it was the right solution.”
Half an hour later he silenced his phone, powered off his laptop, and set his glasses down on the coffee table. Kate walked out of the bedroom as he swallowed the last of the bourbon. She was wearing a thin camisole without a bra and a pair of boy shorts, her long legs on full display.
His eyes tracked her as she walked toward him. “Remind me to buy you some more of that underwear.”
She gave him a pointed look. “You like boy shorts?”
“I like them on you.”
When she reached the couch, she started to sit sideways on his lap the way she always did, but he said, “No. Straddle me.”
She obliged, and he held her face tightly and kissed her.
“I love the way you taste when you drink bourbon.” She placed her hands underneath his jaw, running her thumbs along his scruff and kissing him again.
“You are mine.” He said it with conviction while looking into her eyes.
“Yes,” she said with equal conviction. “And you’re mine.”
He put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer. She felt his hardness between her legs and pressed down on it, making him groan. He kissed her, gently at first and then slowly progressing to a rougher, almost bruising, meeting of their lips. There was something possessive about the way he claimed her mouth, and she responded with equal fervor as their tongues collided. He wound his fingers in her hair, tugged hard on it, and left a searing trail from her mouth to her throat. The pain and pleasure left behind by the scrape of his teeth made Kate ache. The next kiss was slow and whisper soft, and he lightly brushed her cheeks with his thumbs. The back-and-forth between rough and gentle, taking and giving, set Kate on fire.
He fluttered kisses along her collarbone, her shoulder. With agonizing slowness, he reached for the hem of her camisole and then pulled it over her head, baring her to the waist. He nuzzled his face in her breasts, cupping their soft weight and licking them until she was writhing under his touch. He began to suck, gently at first, but then Kate felt a stab of exquisite pain as he increased the pressure, sealing his mouth around her nipple in a way that would surely leave visual proof he’d been there. Only rarely did he mark her, and the few times it had happened had been accidental. But Kate thought he’d meant to do it this time and was shocked by how much she liked it.
He put his hand down the front of her boy shorts, groaning when he discovered how aroused she was. As he stroked her, she arched into his hand, inhaling sharply and then sighing softly. His touch was light, teasing, and Kate thought she might fall apart right there on the couch.