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“Wow. You’re beautiful, Katrina.”
“Well, wait. They aren’t quite that perky when the bra is all the way off.”
Immediately sorry she’d said that, she bit her tongue to keep from saying anything else self-critical. He turned her around to get the hooks undone. It took him a minute, so she supposed the bra removal wasn’t part of his routine with Amber Greely, remembering Amber’s huge breasts. After turning her back, she opened her eyes and was staring right into his.
Unable to help herself, she threaded her arms around him, her breasts pressed against his bare chest, and she kissed him, tasting him, wanting him so badly. There was nothing negative about it either—no guilt about Amber or Alphé, just passion.
They pulled each other’s underpants off.
She gasped. It was kind of scary. “I didn’t realize,” she said, pointing. “Unleashed, that thing looks dangerous.”
He barked out a laugh. “Right.”
But then he got serious real fast, dropping to his knees. “And this is beautiful.”
He didn’t waste any time, but she begged him to wait until she showered, gripping his shoulders, trying not to grunt, the pleasure was so intense. The act was not part of Alphé’s routine.
He stood up, his hand on her back where it burned into her, an innocent touch meaning so
much. The faucet for the rain shower was within easy reach. “All that’s missing is thunder and lightning.”
The rest of the night unfolded like a dream. At one point, she even shed tears, and he kissed them off her cheek.
At one, he got up to leave. “Do you want coffee first?” she asked.
“I can’t ask you to make coffee after midnight.”
“Yes, you can.”
Pulling on a t-shirt and underpants, she was unashamed at last. She assumed he was working nights and had to start his shift, but she didn’t ask. For all she knew, Amber was waiting for him at home, in his bed. Since he and Amber lived together, she would know his schedule. He was an adult man. If he wanted to see her, he’d figure it out.
They made comfortable talk while he drank the coffee, like you would with a friend. He stretched, and she looked at that body. He was so giving in bed; she shivered remembering what he did to her, how it felt to have him slide inside her. It might not work. She might get too jealous of Amber. But she’d manage for tonight.
He put the cup in the sink. “What’re your plans for the rest of the week?”
Did he really want to know? Or was this small talk?
“I’m traveling Wednesday and Thursday. Friday, I go to New Orleans. Nothing unusual.”
“I have to have your phone number.”
“That’s kind of risky.”
“Right now, I don’t care.”
She gave it to him, watching him key it in, his hands shaking ever so slightly.
When he put the phone in his pocket, she did it again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him like he was the first man she’d ever kissed. He kissed her back, knowing that being away from her would be torture.
Then, tears cruised down her cheeks again. He had no way of knowing this, but she’d wept more for Dave Chastain than she had since her parents died. She didn’t emote, and no sounds came out, just a stream of sadness.
“I’m so sorry. I wish I didn’t have to go.” Holding her at arm’s length, he looked into her eyes. “This is really hard.”
She didn’t ask why he had to leave. “I hope you’ll come back soon.”
At the back door, she kissed him one last time before he walked out to the garage. He pulled the car out without the lights on, just in case, although who were they fooling? And when he waved to her before pulling away, she cried in earnest.
***
