He sat in the corner, drinking his tea while she worked. She said a few words here and there, but it had been busy, as it sometimes was so near to closing. All he’d said to her was “I’ll wait.”
He’d wait. Lovely. The tension inside her was nearly painful, something she poked at as she worked, like that spot inside your cheek you bit earlier that day. She examined it, stroked over it, thought about it, enjoyed it even.
Finally at three she moved through the place toward the door, and he’d simply stayed like a stray cat she’d made the mistake of feeding. When she locked up and flipped the sign, he finally moved, standing to his full height.
She stood, rooted to the spot as she looked up his body. The width of his shoulders seemed to blot out the light. Erin was tall; at five-eight she didn’t often get the experience of looking up and then up some more at a man.
“Erin, I’d like to know you again. Can we do that?” He brushed the back of his knuckles down her cheek.
Once the sensual shivers subsided enough that she could find her words again, she swallowed hard. “Are you married? Because if you are, we can know each other but we can’t know each other. I don’t do that.”
He smiled, one of the most genuine smiles she’d ever seen from him. “I’m not. Not for the past eighteen months. I’m glad to know you don’t do that, because I sure as hell don’t either. You’re not married or with anyone?”
She lost her train of thought for a moment when he slid those same knuckles down her neck and into the hollow of her throat. God, that felt good.
“No. Not for a long time now.”
“So, we’re both free.” He looked at her. Into her. She felt bare to her bones. His scent rose from his skin, heady and warm. He smelled different than she remembered. This was . . . She leaned in just a bit, giving in to her needs . . . deep and dark. A man who worked with his body; clean sweat, sex, alluring, something she wanted to lick.
He waited as she watched his pulse jump at his throat. So close that if she moved just a bit more, she’d touch his skin with her lips. Suddenly she wanted that so much, it hit her in a wave, bringing a slight disorientation in its wake. Instead she reached out, sliding her palm up his arm, over his biceps. “Looks that way.”
His pupils enlarged, the color of his irises deepening. “I have a few errands to run. Why don’t I come to your place. Or you to mine, I don’t care which. Would six work for you?”
She loved his voice, had forgotten how sexy it was. Erin grabbed a pad of paper and wrote down her address. “I’ll let the doorman know you’re coming. Use that code and you can park inside the garage.”
They stood very close in the quiet café. Neither spoke, but they both looked at each other. The tension thickened, tautened until Erin wanted to groan.
Finally it was as if he’d made some sort of internal decision. He slid his palm around her neck, cupping it at the nape. “I’m going to have to kiss you.”
She smiled up at him, raising a brow. “You never used to need to ask.”
His face hardened and his mouth found hers. The taste of him bloomed through her, opening her up, softening her in the right places, hardening her in others. The seam of her jeans pressed with delicious friction against her sensitized clit, even better when he rolled his hips and ground his c**k into her.
Oh, they still fit and he still had it going on. Only now he seemed more confident with it. A delightful thrill coursed through her at the thought of a confident Todd, a man who owned his dominance.
On the surface, the kiss was exploratory. He tasted her easily, his tongue sliding back into her mouth like it hadn’t been over a decade since he’d done this last. But beneath that, there was no angst, no guilt or hesitance. The kiss was sure. He knew he wanted to be there and, god knew, she wanted him there too.
When he caught her bottom lip between his teeth and nipped, her knees buckled and she held on to keep standing.
He chuckled then and pulled back slightly. “You still taste like sin, Erin. I can’t wait for more.” One more brief kiss and he headed to the door. “See you in a few hours.”
She nodded, her fingers pressed against her lips, her heart beating wildly.
6
Erin looked at herself in the mirror as she dried off from the shower. Not bad. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been twenty-four years old. The years hadn’t been too bad on her outside. Her belly wasn’t as flat as it had been then. But genetics had spared her stretch marks and, despite nursing for nearly a year, her br**sts were still in good shape.
The thought of Adele’s downy little head snuggled to her made her pause as the familiar pain passed through her belly. Phantom pain, like she’d lost a limb. But she’d lost so much more.
Erin sat on the side of the tub and just gave in to the tears for a time. If she didn’t fight it, she’d feel better sooner. When she’d finished, she washed her face with cold water and then wandered into her bedroom to get dressed.
She may not have had a regular sex partner in a few years, but that had not stopped Erin from possessing sexy underthings. Like she’d told Raven, Brody’s on-again-off-again girlfriend and Erin’s best friend, she had boatloads of dough, and there were worse things to spend it on than panties.
The evening was warm for late spring in Seattle so she chose a flattering camisole with a corset fit and the skirt to match. A handy-dandy push-up bra and some cute boyshort undies and she was good to go.
He’d wait. Lovely. The tension inside her was nearly painful, something she poked at as she worked, like that spot inside your cheek you bit earlier that day. She examined it, stroked over it, thought about it, enjoyed it even.
Finally at three she moved through the place toward the door, and he’d simply stayed like a stray cat she’d made the mistake of feeding. When she locked up and flipped the sign, he finally moved, standing to his full height.
She stood, rooted to the spot as she looked up his body. The width of his shoulders seemed to blot out the light. Erin was tall; at five-eight she didn’t often get the experience of looking up and then up some more at a man.
“Erin, I’d like to know you again. Can we do that?” He brushed the back of his knuckles down her cheek.
Once the sensual shivers subsided enough that she could find her words again, she swallowed hard. “Are you married? Because if you are, we can know each other but we can’t know each other. I don’t do that.”
He smiled, one of the most genuine smiles she’d ever seen from him. “I’m not. Not for the past eighteen months. I’m glad to know you don’t do that, because I sure as hell don’t either. You’re not married or with anyone?”
She lost her train of thought for a moment when he slid those same knuckles down her neck and into the hollow of her throat. God, that felt good.
“No. Not for a long time now.”
“So, we’re both free.” He looked at her. Into her. She felt bare to her bones. His scent rose from his skin, heady and warm. He smelled different than she remembered. This was . . . She leaned in just a bit, giving in to her needs . . . deep and dark. A man who worked with his body; clean sweat, sex, alluring, something she wanted to lick.
He waited as she watched his pulse jump at his throat. So close that if she moved just a bit more, she’d touch his skin with her lips. Suddenly she wanted that so much, it hit her in a wave, bringing a slight disorientation in its wake. Instead she reached out, sliding her palm up his arm, over his biceps. “Looks that way.”
His pupils enlarged, the color of his irises deepening. “I have a few errands to run. Why don’t I come to your place. Or you to mine, I don’t care which. Would six work for you?”
She loved his voice, had forgotten how sexy it was. Erin grabbed a pad of paper and wrote down her address. “I’ll let the doorman know you’re coming. Use that code and you can park inside the garage.”
They stood very close in the quiet café. Neither spoke, but they both looked at each other. The tension thickened, tautened until Erin wanted to groan.
Finally it was as if he’d made some sort of internal decision. He slid his palm around her neck, cupping it at the nape. “I’m going to have to kiss you.”
She smiled up at him, raising a brow. “You never used to need to ask.”
His face hardened and his mouth found hers. The taste of him bloomed through her, opening her up, softening her in the right places, hardening her in others. The seam of her jeans pressed with delicious friction against her sensitized clit, even better when he rolled his hips and ground his c**k into her.
Oh, they still fit and he still had it going on. Only now he seemed more confident with it. A delightful thrill coursed through her at the thought of a confident Todd, a man who owned his dominance.
On the surface, the kiss was exploratory. He tasted her easily, his tongue sliding back into her mouth like it hadn’t been over a decade since he’d done this last. But beneath that, there was no angst, no guilt or hesitance. The kiss was sure. He knew he wanted to be there and, god knew, she wanted him there too.
When he caught her bottom lip between his teeth and nipped, her knees buckled and she held on to keep standing.
He chuckled then and pulled back slightly. “You still taste like sin, Erin. I can’t wait for more.” One more brief kiss and he headed to the door. “See you in a few hours.”
She nodded, her fingers pressed against her lips, her heart beating wildly.
6
Erin looked at herself in the mirror as she dried off from the shower. Not bad. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been twenty-four years old. The years hadn’t been too bad on her outside. Her belly wasn’t as flat as it had been then. But genetics had spared her stretch marks and, despite nursing for nearly a year, her br**sts were still in good shape.
The thought of Adele’s downy little head snuggled to her made her pause as the familiar pain passed through her belly. Phantom pain, like she’d lost a limb. But she’d lost so much more.
Erin sat on the side of the tub and just gave in to the tears for a time. If she didn’t fight it, she’d feel better sooner. When she’d finished, she washed her face with cold water and then wandered into her bedroom to get dressed.
She may not have had a regular sex partner in a few years, but that had not stopped Erin from possessing sexy underthings. Like she’d told Raven, Brody’s on-again-off-again girlfriend and Erin’s best friend, she had boatloads of dough, and there were worse things to spend it on than panties.
The evening was warm for late spring in Seattle so she chose a flattering camisole with a corset fit and the skirt to match. A handy-dandy push-up bra and some cute boyshort undies and she was good to go.
