Drunk on Love(8)

“I like this jacket.” He traced a finger down her zipper, and moved it slowly up and down.

“Thank you.” She watched his face as he stared down at her. “I like it, too.”

He put his hand on her waist, and she couldn’t prevent her sharp, inward breath at the touch of his fingers, their warmth through her thin dress. He smiled when she did that, and she smiled, too. She needed this tonight. Right now.

His hand crept slowly, so slowly, up her body, until his thumb circled her nipple. She sighed and closed her eyes and let her head rest back against the door.

“I also like this dress,” he said in her ear. “I like the way you look in it. Even though it was all I could do at the bar to not stare at you in it.”

She opened her eyes to see the look on his face.

“You can stare all you want now,” she said.

He moved his hand up again to her chin, her cheek, her hair.

“Oh, I intend to,” he said. “In just a moment.”

And then, finally, he bent down to kiss her. She slid her arms around his waist and pulled him close as their lips danced together. It was everything it had been outside the bar, but more, because they were alone, because they were both sure of each other, because now they both knew where this kiss was going.

They kept kissing as they explored each other. He pushed her jacket off her shoulders, she tugged his shirt up and put her hands against his bare skin, he moved his fingers back down to her breast and rubbed her hard nipples until she cried out.

They pulled back and looked at each other, both breathing hard, both smiling. He rested his forehead against hers, then pressed his lips against her cheek.

“I’ve got to get this dress off of you,” he said. He took a step back and reached for her hand. “Maybe we could even get all the way into my apartment.”

She put her hand in his.

“What an idea.” She kicked her shoes off and left them by the door with her—now very lucky—leather jacket, and followed him through the apartment. His tiny hallway opened up into a small kitchen and spacious living room, both minimally furnished. He pushed open the bedroom door and gave her a self-deprecating grin.

“I did tell you I just moved in,” he said.

She glanced around the big bedroom, with boxes stacked all against one wall. There was a bed, thank God, a real one, with a headboard and sheets and everything, or she might have had to call this off.

Okay, she wouldn’t have—obviously she wouldn’t have—but she was still grateful.

“I meant to finish unpacking today,” he said.

He looked sweetly apologetic. She smiled at him.

“You got the most important thing taken care of,” she said, gesturing to the bed.

He grinned at her.

“If I hadn’t, would this be it for me for tonight?”

He’d read her mind. She grinned back at him.

“Depends how comfortable that couch out in the living room is,” she said.

He laughed out loud and took a step toward her.

“Luckily, we won’t have to test that.” His hands moved slowly up the sides of her arms to her shoulders. “Or, rather, luckily for me, I won’t have to undergo that test.”

She laughed softly as he bent to kiss the side of her neck. She was pretty sure it was lucky for her, too.



* * *





LUKE HADN’T PLANNED THIS. He’d had a stressful few days, and he knew this upcoming week would likely be just as stressful. He’d enjoyed the distraction of talking to Margot at the bar, and yes, he’d thought more than once as she’d gestured or laughed that he’d really like to see what this expressive, engaging woman was like in bed. And he’d definitely thought that he wanted to see her out of that dress that skimmed her body so well and that made the hard points of her nipples all too evident to him as he sat there next to her and tried not to look at them.

But he hadn’t expected that a woman like this would come home with him. She’d seemed amused by him at the bar, sure, but he didn’t think she was actually interested in him. He’d planned to just say good night to Margot at the door and walk home. Alone.

But then that crowd of people had tried to push past her at the door, like the entitled tourists that he could tell they were, and had made her stumble. So he’d had to shoulder his way through that crowd, to guide her through them. Though he’d noticed that she’d managed to put one of her elbows neatly in that one guy’s stomach, hard enough to make him trip into the guy next to him.

And once he’d touched her, he hadn’t wanted to let go. So he’d delayed saying goodbye at the door, by saying something trite but true about the night sky. And when he’d seen her face, all soft and open and full of wonder as she’d looked up at the sky, he’d had to just see if he could kiss her.

And now she was here, and all he could think about was Margot, right in front of him.

He pushed the strap of her dress to the side and kissed her shoulder. She let out a soft, gentle sigh, and her eyes fluttered shut. He trailed his fingers up her arm, and pressed kisses along her shoulder, her collarbone on one side, then the other. As he kissed her, she moved her hands from his hips and slipped them under his shirt. He liked the way she explored his body—eager, confident, almost demanding. He felt pretty demanding right now, too.