Page 28 of It's a Widow Thing

Sabrina adored Nora, but all she really wanted was to be alone with Michael, not answer questions. And she didn’t feel like becoming the subject of the building’s rumor mill. “I was out with my widows group and we ran into each other, so we shared a cab home.”

“Oh. Of course. Just a little neighborly time together.” Nora winked, then reached for Walter’s hand. “We can share an elevator.”

The four of them made their way inside and across the lobby and Sabrina realized what was really bothering her—she’d fantasized a zillion times about making out with Michael in the elevator, and she really wanted that to happen. She wanted him to push her up against the wall and smash into her… she’d imagined it countless times while they were making their usual morning trip. That was not going to happen tonight. Walter pressed the button and the doors swept open. Once they were inside, Nora became distracted by her phone and Walter, not much of a conversationalist, stared up at the numbers. That left Michael and Sabrina to chat with stolen glances as he rubbed her hip with the back of his hand.

They both jumped when the elevator reached the sixteenth floor. “This is us,” Michael blurted.

“Have a nice night.” Sabrina tried to take a normal amount of time getting off the elevator, but it felt like she flew.

“You too,” Nora called as the doors shut.

Sabrina grabbed Michael’s hand and started hustling toward her apartment. Speed was her friend right now. Too much time and she’d just start thinking again, and it meant a lot to her that she finally felt ready. She didn’t want her to brain to convince her otherwise.

The instant she was inside, she dropped her bag on the table inside her entryway, then turned to him. The lights were off, but she could still see the uncertainty in his eyes. She couldn’t help but feel responsible. She’d put that uneasy look there. And she wanted to reassure him that this time, they would finish what they started.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked. Even his voice held an edge of nervousness.

“Positive.” She took his hand and tugged him closer.

“Good. Because I do, too.” He reined her in with his arms, lowered his head, and nestled his face in her neck, placing warm and delicate kisses on her skin.

She closed her eyes and let her head drop to one side, soaking up the sensations of his touch while she dug her fingertips into his shoulders. Then she slipped her leg between his and pressed against him, and suddenly, the gloves were off. His open mouth descended on hers. No more second-guessing. No endless ruminations. Just giving in to what she longed for—Michael.

His hand slipped up inside the back of her top. The heat of his palm and fingers against a stretch of skin that hadn’t been touched by another human in an eon… well, it unleashed something inside her. Untold pent-up cravings. She arched her back and the kissing became frantic. So much so that they both struggled to stay on balance. Hands were everywhere—hers scrambling through the buttons of his shirt until she could finally touch his bare chest. Meanwhile, his took separate duties—one rubbing her back, the other squeezing her hip, fingers digging into the top of her ass, his thumb working its way inside the waistband of her jeans. She hitched her leg around his thigh and hooked her ankle behind his knee. The new angle of her hips allowed her to feel him get harder, and her brain leaped ahead. Visions of what Michael might look like naked swirled in her head.

He tugged her sweater over her head, zeroing in on her breasts, cupping them with both hands and making them nearly spill out of her bra. “I imagine this every single morning when we’re in the elevator together.”

“You do?” If a man could give her an orgasm from a demonstrative statement, Michael would’ve just had her screaming his name.

“I love looking at every inch of you. But now that I get to actually touch you? So much better.”

Sabrina struggled to further participate in the conversation as he unhooked her bra and pulled the garment down her arms. He’d found the territory that most craved attention. She’d been busty from the moment her body began to change in sixth grade, and although that had brought some unkind comments from stupid boys in school, she loved this part of her body.

As Michael lowered his head and his lips found her nipple, she was about to rocket into space. Her mind went blank as he circled that tight bundle of skin with his tongue. Dropping her head back, a primal moan rumbled from her throat. He turned to the other breast, sucking and licking while he gently twisted the first nipple with his fingertips. “That feels so good,” she groaned. “If you stop, I will never speak to you again.”

“I don’t plan to. I just want to get you into bed.” He surprised the hell out of her when he grabbed her ass and hoisted her up.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, then her arms around his neck. She gestured with a nod. “My bedroom is in the same spot as yours.”

“Good, because I don’t think I have the mental faculties to look for it.”

She caressed his smooth scalp as he carried her down the hall. She kissed his neck, his facial scruff gently scratching at her nose and cheek. He smelled warm and musky and most importantly, like Michael. It was just more intense this close up. When he got to her bed, he placed a knee on it and slowly set her down on the mattress. Then he stood back and tugged off his sweater and the t-shirt beneath it, leaving her the chance to see his smooth chest and broad shoulders.

She sat up and scooted closer to him, kissing his belly and unbuttoning his jeans. Before she unzipped him, she pressed her palm against his erection, which was straining against the fabric. Again, he got even harder beneath her touch, which made her inexplicably glad. She gazed up at him, planting her chin on his torso. “You seem happy.”

He snickered quietly. “This has definitely been the best part of my day.”

She smiled and shook her head, then unzipped him quickly and shimmied his jeans past his hips. She raked her fingers down his firm chest and abs. The sexy trail of hair under his belly button widened when it met the waistband of his gray boxer briefs. Nervous anticipation fluttered in her stomach, but the desirous ache in the rest of her body urged her to rid him of his final clothes. Once she did, he was even better than she’d imagined, but that was so typical for Michael.

She wrapped her fingers around him and felt brave enough to look him in the eye as she took her time, caressing him slowly. She studied him, listening to the way his breath hitched, or feeling him react to her touch. Yes, she felt out of practice, and this wasn’t exactly like riding a bike, but it did feel just as familiar.

Michael combed his fingers through her hair. “As amazing as that feels, you still have clothes on, and that doesn’t seem fair to either of us.”

She sucked in a deep breath to shore up her confidence, then laid back and draped her arms across her stomach. Michael bent over and began to peel off her jeans as she raised her hips off the bed. With comical enthusiasm, he launched them across the room. They landed on top of a lampshade.

“Good aim,” she said.

“It’s all that axe throwing.” Planting a knee on the bed, he bent over again, this time tugging her panties off. He straightened to his full height and the hunger in his eyes told her that however much they might be joking around, they weren’t playing. At all. It made her heart beat wildly.