Drunk on Love(67)

She pulled his belt out of his pants and dropped it to the floor, and then tossed his shirt after it. She let her fingernails skim over his chest. The friction felt so good he reached for her again, and again she stopped him, that smile still on her face.

“You’ll have your turn later,” she said.

Her eyes were locked on his as she slowly, so slowly, unzipped his jeans. Had he wanted this to go slow before? Why? Because right now, he was ready to explode, and she’d barely even touched him yet.

She tugged his jeans down, and he kicked them to the side. She smiled down at the bulge in his boxer briefs.

“Mmm. There you are,” she said. She hooked her thumbs under his briefs at either side of his waist, and with one tug, pulled them down to the floor. Maybe she was getting impatient, too.

She knelt down in front of him, in that sexy-as-hell robe, where he could see the darkness of her nipples, and the curve of her belly, and he thought he might come just from how hot this moment was.

Then her hands and mouth were on him, at first slow, too slow. She was teasing him, he could tell by that tiny smile on her lips. And then she moved faster, and stroked harder, and his hands were in her hair, and holy shit it was good, and then she scraped her teeth against him, in just the way he liked, and he couldn’t hold back anymore.

She stood up, a grin on her face, while he collapsed on top of her bed.

“You couldn’t have let me sit down first?” he said when he could talk. “Because I was this close to falling over.”

She shook her head as she stood in front of him.

“I wasn’t worried,” she said. “You’re young and strong and agile, I knew you’d be okay. Plus, I liked it like that. But I mean, if you didn’t . . .”

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him.

“Is there any possible way that you don’t know just how much I liked that?” He tugged the neckline of her robe down to expose one of her breasts. “Because if so, we have a serious communication problem here.”

His face was almost exactly level with her breasts in this position. He liked that a lot, too.

“I think the two of us are communicating just fine,” she said.

“Mmm, me, too.”

He sucked her nipple into his mouth, and she laughed out loud.





Sixteen


WHEN MARGOT WOKE UP the next morning, she could feel the smile on her face. At first she couldn’t remember why. And then she opened her eyes.

“Good morning,” Luke said, his hand moving gently up and down the side of her body. “I was hoping you would wake up before I had to leave.”

He looked so good right there. In her bed, against her pillows, with his warm brown skin and wide chest and big eyes and soft smile and low voice. And that smile on his lips and in his voice was for her.

“Good morning,” she said. This thing between them had felt so impossible, for so long, but she’d wanted it for just as long. Did she really have it now?

She had to pull herself back. It had been only two days. She needed to slow down, take this one day at a time, not sweat the small stuff, all of those aphorisms that were so contrary to her very being. She always thought far in advance, she always jumped to conclusions, sweating the small stuff was in her job description. But right now, she didn’t want to spoil this. She just wanted Luke.

“Would it be pushing things to ask if I can see you tonight?” he asked.

She smiled and shook her head.

“It wouldn’t be pushing things at all,” she said. Wait. Shit.

“Oh no, I just remembered—I have a dinner tonight over in Sonoma. I’ll be home pretty late, I’m sorry.”

He kissed her softly on the lips.

“That’s okay.” He slid his hand down the curve of her back. “I mean, that’s okay in the abstract, like, you don’t need me to approve of where and when you have dinner, but also I very much wish you were having dinner with me tonight instead.”

“Maybe you could come over, after?” she said. Then she regretted it immediately. She shouldn’t sound quite that eager. This thing was brand-new, she should— “Yes, please,” he said. “Text me when you get home?”

She pulled him closer and kissed him hard.

“Will do.”

He got up and got in her shower. She pulled on one of her much more practical robes than the one she’d worn last night and went to make coffee.

He came into the kitchen a little while later, fully dressed and rubbing his head with her towel.

“I realized that I don’t know how you take your coffee,” she said. “I’ve known you for a while now, but there are still so many gaps in my knowledge.”

He picked up the mug she’d poured and took the milk she handed him.

“A lot of milk, a little sugar,” he said. “I learned how to drink coffee from Avery in high school, and while she’s become more grown-up in her coffee tastes, I have not, unfortunately.”

Margot laughed.

“I’m surprised Taylor didn’t make fun of you for that. She’s a coffee purist, you know.”

He made a face.

“She did indeed make fun of me for this. You just never overheard it, thank goodness. I would have been mortified.”

She laughed as he put sugar in his coffee.