Page 43 of Under Control
“You’re overthinking it.”
“It’s a valid question.”
“Maybe you should write all your questions down in your book and then we can go over them when the movie’s over. We can schedule a meeting.”
She laughed and slapped his arm, which was wrapped around her. They were on his overstuffed leather couch, which had seen better days, but was surprisingly comfortable. Especially if you were holding an amazing woman wearing nothing but a scrap of pink lace between her legs and your T-shirt.
“I just don’t understand why they don’t make realistic action movies,” she said.
“Because they’d be boring.”
She sighed, but stopped talking long enough to watch a few more minutes of the movie. Then she gave a derisive snort and he knew another round of picking apart his favorite movie was about to start.
Obviously she needed a distraction. He slowly slid his hand from her hip to her stomach. She stilled, but kept her eyes on the screen. Her back was pressed up against his body, though, so he could feel the way she tensed up and how her breathing quickened.
He didn’t kiss her neck or cup her breast. He just tucked his fingers under the pink lace and kept going. Olivia shifted a little, her thighs parting just enough to give him access to her slick flesh. With his middle finger, he found her clit and circled it. Then he slipped the finger into her, working it from tip to knuckle until she made a low growling sound deep in her throat. Then he went back to her clit.
“Oh my god, Derek. What are youdoing?”
“Keeping you distracted while I watch my movie.” It was a lie, of course. At that moment he didn’t really give a shit what John McClane was doing on-screen.
She tried to laugh, but her breath caught in her throat as he pressed the heel of his hand hard against her mound. Her hips moved, grinding against him, and it wasn’t long before she arched against him as the orgasm racked her body.
She was so fucking hot. He kissed her hair as her breathing slowly returned to normal and pulled his T-shirt back over the pink lace.
“I see what you’re doing here,” she said, her voice husky.
“I told you I was distracting you.”
“You think if I associate orgasms withDie Hard, it’ll become my favorite movie, too.”
He laughed and kissed the side of her neck. “You’re too smart for me.”
“It’s kind of a long movie. Is there a ratio of orgasms to ridiculous plot points?”
“If you make it to the end, I’ll take you to bed and make you forget every question you had about the movie.”
She wiggled against him, making him groan. “And if I don’t make it to the end of the movie?”
“You’ll have to take me to bed and make me forget my girlfriend has questionable taste in movies.”
They almost made it to the end, and she not only made him forget his girlfriend didn’t like his favorite movie, but she made him forget his own name.
Not enough hours later, he woke and his first thought wasOlivia’s in my bed.He could get used to that.
Between having kids and being a creature of habit in general, Derek didn’t usually sleep in, but the room was already bright when he opened his eyes because he hadn’t closed the heavy drapes over the sheers. He rolled onto his side to face Olivia, who was sleeping on her stomach with her hair across her face. He was tempted to reach out and brush it back so he could see her face better, but he didn’t want her to wake to her face being tickled by her hair.
Derek closed his eyes again, listening to her soft breathing, but he knew there was no chance he’d go back to sleep. Maybe it came from years of having to shake off sleep in an instant when the alarm toned, but once he was awake, he was awake.
He knew the instant she woke up. Her breathing changed and she made a little sound as she shifted in the bed, stretching her muscles without actually moving.
Then she lifted her head a couple inches off the pillow, frowning. “What is happening right now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Outside. There’s noise and yelling. It sounds like we’re under attack.”
He chuckled as her head dropped back onto the pillow. “It’s just a weekend morning in the neighborhood.”
