Page 22 of Primary Season
“I can’t take it,” I said. “I don’t want to wait. I want you now.”
“I want you, too,” she said under her breath. “I keep trying to deny it, but I do. I don’t want to lie to myself anymore.”
“Five minutes,” I whispered in her ear. “Let me drop off something, and I’ll be at your room in five minutes.”
She didn’t argue.
The five minutes felt like five hours.
“I thought you wanted to keep this professional,” I said in a mock-serious tone when she answered the door to her room. “No more blurred lines.” She stepped aside to let me walk in, and I closed the door behind us.
“I’m allowed to change my mind, right?”
“I was hoping you would,” I said as I reached for her. “And damn, I’m glad you did.”
My lips met hers. I walked her backward until the bed buckled her knees and we both fell on the mattress, our lips never parting. I combed my fingers through her hair and skimmed my hand down her neck as I murmured her name between kisses. God, this felt so good.
“Let’s get you out of those clothes.” I said when I couldn’t take any more. “Now.”
I untied the strings of her wrap dress as Alex kicked off her black pumps. My mouth traveled down the swell of her chest to the top of her breasts. She pushed herself into the mattress, and closed her eyes. I teased her with my touch, elongating the moments as we explored each other. After our lips met again, we collapsed on the bed. She moaned against me and I opened her dress, trying to savor everything about her. She unbuttoned my shirt and yanked it over my shoulders; I followed her lead, raised up, and pulled the rest of it from my body. Then I kicked off my loafers and stripped off my pants. I was already hard, and it showed through my boxer shorts.
“So much for being professional,” she whispered.
“Professional is overrated,” I said as I returned to her on the bed. “Tonight, it’s just me, you, and this room.” I kissed her jaw, her cheek, and then her lips. “There is nothing else. No one else. Just us.”
She smiled. “Just us.”
“I’m going to devour you,” I said with a growl. “But first, I’m going to savor you.”
“So…I didn’t expect that tonight. At all,” she said in the darkness a few hours later as we still lay beside each other.
I rolled over, raised up, and propped my head in my left hand. I studied her face, which I could barely make out in the moonlight. “And if I have my way, it won’t be the last time.” I stroked her shoulder and the top of her right breast with my index finger, drawing an invisible line up and down her body. “Of course, it’s entirely up to you, but I know what I want.”
“We hardly know each other,” she said.
I frowned. “That’s not true. I know plenty about you.”
“Oh, really? Like what?”
“You went to Tulane, you’re from Omaha, you can drink anyone under the table, and you’re great at your job.” I got out of bed, walked over to the minibar, and produced two Diet Cokes from the small fridge. “You have great taste in underwear, and you can fuck like no one else.”
“Not good enough,” she said as I handed her one of the drinks. “That’s all surface stuff, and not the real me.”
“All right. Shoot. Tell me something I don’t know.” I climbed back into bed and kissed her nose. “Something secret.”
“Hmm.” She twisted her mouth. “Let me think.”
“I’ll go first. Not really a secret, but it is a funny story.” I paused. “When I was twelve, I got into a huge fight with the school bully. His name was David Erlichmann; he and I planned it for like three weeks. It was afterschool, on the playground at Warren G. Harding Elementary.” I raised an eyebrow. “And he’d been calling me ‘Fatso Blanco’ for as long as I could remember. I punched him in the nose, and he fell down crying. Bleeding everywhere. We thought his nose might be broken.”
“So you won the fight?”
“I did.” I started laughing at the memory. “But then I felt so bad about it that I had him come with me to our house, just two blocks away, and I confessed everything to my mom. I was grounded for three weeks.” I shook my head. “I was one of those kids who couldn’t just roll with things. I always felt so bad about everything.”
“What happened to David?”
“He’s a lawyer in Cincinnati now. Married, two kids. We still keep in touch some.” I shrugged. “Sort of became best friends after that. At least, throughout high school.”
Her gaze roamed over my body. “So I just had sex with Fatso Blanco, huh?”
