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“Well, good. That’s two of us.”
“So.” He took her shoulders gently. “Now there’s no problem. Neither of us wants to feel anything, so we just won’t. It’s all good.”
“You?” she couldn’t suppress another giggle, poking him accusingly in the chest “?are just trying to get back into my loincloth.”
“I am definitely trying to get back into your loincloth.”
She huffed in pretend outrage and turned her back on him. “This is why I surround myself with eunuchs.”
Laughing, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Very close. His cock recognized heaven when it felt it and rose to attention. “Ah, but my darling Cleo, those eunuchs don’t have—”
“I know what eunuchs don’t have.”
He laughed again, giddy and light, then kissed her shoulder as he had before, up her neck, to her jaw. She turned her head to meet his mouth, and their kisses, gentle and searching at first, became hotter, more passionate, until they were both breathless again.
“Allie...?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“No feelings involved.”
“No feelings.”
He rolled on the condom, pulled her hips gently toward him, applying pressure to her upper back so she bent forward. Then he reached around to make sure she was really ready for him.
“Oh,” Allie whispered. She held still while he rubbed her clitoris. Then her head bent, her hips circled slightly and she whimpered. “That’s good.”
“Yes-s-s.” He slid a finger inside her. She was tight and hot; he was starved for her. Two fingers. She squeezed him even tighter. “Do you like that?”
“Yes.” She panted the answer. “More.”
Somehow he kept from plunging into her to find his own relief. He kept his fingers working, exploring, stroking, lingering on her clitoris, and then backing off. Her gasps became louder. She flung her head back and gave a short cry, then another.
He gave in, spread her wide and thrust home, feeling her coming around him almost immediately. It didn’t take much longer for him. Her muscles squeezing him, the sight of her sequin-clad ass swaying forward and back as he pumped her sent him shooting over the edge, no brakes, nothing holding him.
He came down gently, suddenly aware of the damp night and a few cooling drops of rain beginning to fall. He helped Allie stand, wrapped his arms around her and held her trembling body close, pressing his cheek to her temple, feeling his heartbeat gradually slowing, watching the rain coming toward them across the lake, aware of her warmth and her fresh scent.
And he suddenly understood why Allie hadn’t wanted to make love tonight. And why he’d been so restless and nervous today.
No feelings? Ha. More like nothing but feelings. She was right to be afraid. This was supposed to be a hot fling: a fun and sexy chance for Allie to act out some fantasies and for him to escape his normal life, which lately seemed to be channeling him into the sort of narrow, uncreative existence he’d always dreaded.
But his feelings for Allie had evolved to where avoiding the pain of losing her felt like a life-or-death situation.
Jonas closed his eyes, chuckling silently without humor.
For the first time, he was beginning to understand Erik.
10
“WHAT IS THE appropriate after-dinner drink for revealing secrets?” Erik stood outside his parents’ cabinet, which held more bottles than Sandra’s liquor store. “Ever tried Italian amaro?”
Sandra shook her head, tipsy after one too many Tsingtao beers with dinner. Or maybe two too many. “No, but I’ve heard it’s when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie.”
“‘That’s amore.’ And we are both way too funny.”
“True.”
They’d just finished a meal of takeout Chinese, which Erik had ordered from his favorite place in Glens Falls?not bad, even a city snob like her had to admit. Now they were approaching the second part of the evening, when Sandra’s plan was being put into effect.
She was weirdly anxious, not quite able to get her bearings. Thinking alcohol might relax her, she’d overindulged.
It hadn’t worked. And she was very annoyed, with herself and with the circumstances. This evening should be easy and pure fun. Erik would confess something that mattered to him, she’d hear it, tell him something that didn’t particularly matter to her, and then they’d make out.
Not exactly earthshaking. Not exactly life-changing. So why couldn’t she escape the feeling that she was somehow in up to her neck?
