“Yes!” she gasped, glancing over her shoulder at him with a coy smile.
He gave her bottom a firm slap and then rubbed it with the palm of his hand before sliding it up her spine and grasping her hair. He brought his mouth to her neck and dropped his other hand to her core, stroking the bundle of nerves that would make her beg for release.
His strokes came fast and furious as he buried himself in her, driving them both toward release as he angled for the spot that he knew would give her the best damn orgasm of her life. Their sweaty bodies rocked together as one. It was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. They were connected on a level he had never known and damn if he wasn’t enjoying every second of it.
“I want you to come for me right now,” he ordered, rolling his thumb over the sensitive flesh between her legs.
“Yes!” she cried out as his final thrust drove them both over the brink into oblivion.
They collapsed on the bed, fully sated. Olivia wriggled closer to him, closing the few small gaps that remained between their tangled bodies. He brushed her cheek and held her tight, cradling her head in his arm. With her body pressed to his, it was impossible to ignore the heat of her skin on his shoulder, the tickle of her hair on his face, or the beat of her heart on his chest. Lying there with swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and wrapped in only a sheet, she had never been more beautiful. And he had never been more satisfied. Their little arrangement was working out perfectly.
Basking in the afterglow of great sex, Cole’s gaze travelled the room, for the first time taking in the stark, functional space. There wasn’t much to see, but the little black dress hanging from Olivia’s closet door caught his attention. Definitely cocktail attire. Probably for the fundraiser Pritchard’s wife was hosting. If they were both going, maybe they should go together? Show up, be seen, sneak out early, and have a little fun?
He dismissed the thought immediately. He had no business toying with such thoughts. It was too much like a date, and that kind of romantic nonsense was sure to screw up the good thing they had going.
With that in mind, he waited until she fell asleep, then slipped out of the bed, gathered his clothes, and headed for the door.
Chapter Fourteen
Olivia pulled the covers over her head, doing her best to ignore the sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. Why had she bought sheer curtains in the first place? Maybe if she didn’t get out of bed, she could skip Saturday and fast-forward right to Sunday.
Unfortunately, her bladder had a different plan. Sighing, Olivia threw back the covers. Cole was gone. Good. No need for the messy morning-after business that had no place in their coworkers-with-benefits relationship. She sat on the edge of her bed, glaring at the black cocktail dress that hung on the closet door, mocking her.
To say karma was a bitch wouldn’t even begin to do justice to her current situation. Pritchard’s overly tan, overly plastic wife was having another lame fundraiser—Save the Platypus or something equally obscure—and she had no choice but to attend. It wasn’t that she minded fundraisers. She was used to slogging through those things with a phony smile on her face and a check in her purse. The problem was that Chloe had snagged a date at the last minute, making Olivia the dreaded third wheel.
She had attended dozens of these things stag, and being alone didn’t normally bother her, but what if Cole brought a date? The prospect of showing up solo while he paraded around with another woman was a bitter pill to swallow. Not that she was jealous. He had every right to bring a date. They weren’t together.
She slipped her feet into a pair of sock monkey slippers, and then shuffled into the bathroom. She was midway through brushing her teeth when her phone vibrated. A picture of Chloe wearing a Cinco de Mayo sombrero flashed on the screen. She wasn’t done brushing her teeth, but she accepted the call anyway. Chloe wouldn’t care.
“Whassup?” she asked through a mouth full of foam.
“Liv?” Chloe asked, sounding confused and no doubt wondering if she’d dialed the right number. “What are you doing?”
“Brushin my teef,” she replied, wiping toothpaste from her chin with the back of her hand.
“Oh-kaay.” Chloe giggled. “Actually, that’s probably a good idea. Wouldn’t want to show up for your date tonight with funky breath.”
“Wha?” Olivia nearly choked. She spit out the toothpaste and wiped her mouth on a nearby towel. “What did you do, Chloe?”