“Pro tip: Italian meringue buttercream is best if things are heating up. Swiss meringue buttercream, though—that stuff will wilt like no one’s business.”
Hazel eyes dark, they followed the motion of my tongue as I poked it at the frosting, testing the firmness.
“If you don’t stop,” Marius said in that deep voice, “I’m going to say something thoroughly unprofessional to you.”
Panicking, I stuffed the rest of the cupcake into my mouth and chewed furiously. Though I’d been married, my sex life had started out lackluster and quickly swan dived off the cliff of mediocrity. Brooks had been my one and only, and eighteen-year-old me had thought the captain of the football team drunkenly fumbling me in the back of his pickup truck was the height of romance.
I picked up the tequila bottle to wash down the cupcake.
Marius grabbed it before I could open the cap. “I don’t want to taste that tequila when I kiss you,” he warned.
I licked my lips, tasting the sweet frosting.
What would he taste like?
“I thought you didn’t want to get disbarred for sleeping with a client.”
“I think we have enough evidence to prove that you didn’t do it. You weren’t at the scene of the crime when Beatrice was poisoned. Not to mention that the pig didn’t find any other shellfish in your kitchen. I can make a solid case if I get dragged into the bar association for it.”
“You lawyers. Always looking for loopholes big enough to stick your dick in.”
His lips parted. A flash of teeth.
“That was the tequila talking,” I croaked.
Marius leaned in, his breath hot as he lightly nuzzled my neck.
“I wasn’t actually,” he whispered as my chest clenched, “going to suggest putting my cock in any holes, loop or otherwise. I just wanted to do this.” He pressed a kiss to my neck. “And this.” Another to my chin. “And this.” His lips feathered over my cheekbone and on the swell of my breasts.
“You fucking lawyers,” I whispered against his mouth, dragging him up by his hair. “You’re all so full of shit.”
He grabbed my chin roughly, crushing his mouth to mine.
I clawed at the back of the wool suit jacket, wishing I could just tear the clothes off of him.
I should have left Brooks a long time ago if this was how it was to be with a real man.
His large hand slid down to my neck, forcing my head back so his tongue could plunder my mouth.
When he finally pulled back, I was panting against his broad chest.
Marius gazed down at me, eyes dark. Then he dipped his chin to give me another long, slow kiss.
Was this it? My ovaries were fired up and ready to go, and I had condoms in my purse because Gran was ever the optimist and regularly told me, “Fuck those marriage vows. You deserve cock in your life!”
After the pump and dumps by a drunk Brooks in the dark, I hadn’t understood what she’d meant until now. And I wasn’t going to be able to wait until Christmas to open my present.
“Do you want to go somewhere not filled with nosy old people so you can see if my pussy tastes as sweet as frosting?”
Startled, he widened his hazel eyes. I nipped his bottom lip as he strangled a surprised curse.
“I told you,” I whispered, grabbing his jaw, kissed him, then pushed him back onto the sofa. “I want to thank you properly for saving me.”
20
MARIUS
Emmie was self-satisfied, cheeks flushed, when she met me outside the senior center. I was hyperaware of every little move she made as she sat in the seat next to me.
