Page 75 of Flirting with Forever

He gulped. He got a sudden flash of Mary standing naked in nothing but those heels. Another flash and then there she was, digging those heels into his back. He didn’t let her get far before he was beside her again. They walked so fast they both breathed hard. Their fingers laced, as much to keep a connection as to tug one another along, as if they were both nervous the other might change their mind at the last second.

Mary’s shop was tucked in for the night, glowing sedately behind its brand-new security gate. She jammed her keys into the red door beside the gate, the one that led up the stairs to her apartment. They practically sprinted up the stairs after he locked the bottom door behind them. And then there was just her lone door at the top of the stairs. The last real obstacle that John could foresee tonight.

She jabbed with her keys, missing twice. Her hands shook, the lock wouldn’t give, John couldn’t wait.

His hands on her hips from behind, he pushed with one set of fingers and pulled with the other. Mary spun, her back against the door, her head falling back.

His eyes on hers, his hands still gripping her hips, John moved in slow motion. She was glowing, golden, nervous perfection vibrating between the brackets of his hands. He lowered his head and finally,finallyfit his mouth to hers. The first touch was a bit askew, and he re-placed his mouth, this time sliding perfectly into the landscape of her lips. She gasped, her lips softening even as her hands tightened in his hair. He grunted at the sharp pull, pinned there against the softest lips he’d ever kissed. Mary’s mouth painted the illusion that he could just keep on sinking in, that she was bottomless, that there were oceans of silky heat just waiting for him to explore.

He kissed at her bottom lip and tugged it gently down. She complied prettily, her mouth coming open under his, and then John couldn’t help but swipe his tongue inside. He tasted the mint from her ChapStick and lime and fresh human woman.

She was all plush, tart sweetness, her tongue meeting his and stilling him. For a moment, they just pressed against one another, as if they were testing to make sure the other was real. But he couldn’t wait forever. His tongue slid against hers and she moaned breathily. He made a broken sound in response and her hands came to the sides of his face, clutching him like she was solely in charge of holding him in one piece.

He tested her, pushing and tasting, and she chased his tongue with hers. She made a sound of frustration that made him smile. The shape of the smile faded immediately, as his mouth was otherwise occupied, but the feeling remained. He clutched hard at her hips, and their heads tipped from one side to the other.

He was dizzy on her, huffing too hard and too fast whatever exquisite toxin she was pumping into him.

“John,” she gasped, her head knocking gently back onto the door. He lifted his head to better see her expression, and it was only then that he realized he’d lifted her. Somehow his hands had fallen down from her hips to her ass and now those electric-blue heels were digging into his lower back as he pinned her against her own front door. Her weight felt so good, as if only with her in his arms could he be positive that she wasn’t going to flitter away, a dream at dawn.

She was here. So real. Panting his name as her fingers dug into his shoulders and her head tipped back against the door.

Holy God.

He planted his forehead on the door just over her shoulder and looked down her body.

“Fug,” he said blearily as he realized that her dress had gotten hiked up to her hips and it was her hot-pink panties that were smashed against the zipper of his slacks.

“Inside,” she panted and leaned forward to suck on his neck, punctuating it with a brief, sharp bite that jolted him.

Her words only made partial sense to him. He stared down at those hot-pink panties and then back up to her face. “Inside?” he asked, just as bleary as before. “Right now?”

She laughed and leaned forward to tug on his bottom lip with her teeth. “Insidemy apartment.”

“Ah.” That made more sense. He let her slide down his body and took the keys that were still clutched in her hand. John studied her hand for just a moment, saw the imprint of a house key against her palm and realized that that, right there, was proof of how badly she wanted him. Bad enough to leave the outline of a key where she’d gripped it too hard. If it hadn’t been weird, he would have taken a photo of it. Instead, he kissed it and smoothly unlocked her door.

They were barely inside before she was tugging at his midnight tie, pulling at his buttons, throwing her purse in the direction of the couch, stumbling with the force of her throw.

Stumbling...

Shit. John put hands on her shoulders and steadied her, eyeing her. He’d seen her drink four beers while he’d been sitting with her, but she’d been at the bar when he’d gotten there. He’d had five drinks tonight. And no dinner. Which was about twice as much as he usually had if he was going to hook up with someone. And this wasn’t someone. This was Mary.

“Shit,” he cursed, raising his hands up to his hair and tugging.“Shit.”

“What?”

“Mary, we’re drunk.”

She frowned, shook her head and then laughed when she tipped slightly to the side. “Maybe just a little bit.”

“A little bit is too much if we’re really gonna do this.”

She eyed him, trying to figure out if he was bluffing. She must have read the sincerity on his face because she stepped back, her hands on her hips. “Shit,” she echoed him.

Suddenly, a look of horror came over her face. She took two steps back from him and stood in front of her door. She threw the dead bolt and then the chain lock. Slamming her back against the door, she tossed her arms out in a T. “You’re going to go, aren’t you? You can’t leave! No. Don’t go.”

The idea of him leaving was obviously panicking her. Whatever lusty beast inside him that had gotten its feathers ruffled at the idea of missing out on sex was instantly soothed. Because he couldn’t make love to her while they were drunk. But staying? Well, staying was absolutely something he could give her.

“Am I invited to stay?” he asked quietly.

---