“But I’m happy you’re here right now.”
“Me, too.”
Sara nodded and pulled a piece of pepperoni from her slice. “I’m hoping if I feed you, I can keep you a little longer.” She held the tidbit to his lips.
“I’ll stay as long as you want me.”
Her smile turned wicked, and her bright eyes flashed when his teeth scraped lightly over her finger. Steve returned the smile as he chewed.
“I want you,” she whispered into his ear.
This time, he didn’t hesitate at all.
****
The following morning, Steve was knee-deep in quarterly reports when the alert for his inbox chirped, indicating a new message. The profit and loss statements were instantly abandoned. A smile curved his lips as he clicked on Sara’s screen name. He opened the message to find a brief note explaining she was heading to her parents’ house for dinner and a link to a blog post about dealing with crazy authors. No mention of the night before. Not even a hint that he woke up with her hair spread across his chest.
Relief and disappointment battled it out in his gut. In the end, relief won, leaving him confused and more than a little bewildered. Steve pushed away from the desk and turned his chair. He steepled his fingers, letting them rest lightly against his lower lip as he closed his eyes.
He could have fallen asleep then and there. They hadn’t done much sleeping the night before, but he didn’t mind. He awoke this morning with her breasts smashed against his ribs and one smooth leg tangled between his. It was heaven, but confusion burned in his gut like the fires of hell.
The fact was, he had no idea how he was supposed to react to this new dynamic, and a teeny-tiny part of him resented her for it. After so many years of being her friend, just her friend, she’d thrown a wrench in the whole thing. Steve had no idea how he would ever go back to thinking of her as just a friend. Not after he’d tasted her, touched her, loved her with everything he had.
The worst part was Sara seemed completely unperturbed. He was the one who got up and dressed at the crack of dawn while she lay there in the tangled sheets and lifted a lazy hand to wave goodbye. He was the sucker stuck sitting at his desk wondering how to respond to an email that offered no clues. An email exactly like the thousands of emails they’d exchanged over the course of their friendship.
Which viral video do you send to the woman who was screaming your name just hours before? Should you even send something classified as ‘viral’ to someone with whom you’ve swapped much more than spit?
The scent of her clung to him. Thank God. He’d hated showering. He hated the soap that threatened to wash the perfume of her skin away and the water trickling down his neck like the brush of her fingertips. He resented the fact that he had to get dressed, go to work, and act like his whole world hadn’t been turned upside down.
Not that whatever was happening between them was a bad thing. This was the best thing to ever happen to him. He just wasn’t quite sure how it had all come about or where it was going to go. Dread trickled down his throat, shilling his heart and welling in his stomach.
Sara said she wanted me, but was it just for the one night? Was she serious about that research bit, or was that just a gambit to get me naked? God, I hope not.
He let his head fall forward, catching it in his palms. The heels of his hands pressed into his brow bone. Sara’s whispered confession about her books niggled at him. He needed answers, but a part of him was too scared to ask the questions.
Restless, he glanced at the clock and jumped from his seat, jettisoning his chair. After a brief, quiet word with his assistant, he slipped out of the office and into the stairway before one of his partners could spot him and delay his escape.
Ten minutes later, he stood outside of the bookstore with a bag containing the entire Sara Sloane collection. The weight of the paperbacks felt like
“Me, too.”
Sara nodded and pulled a piece of pepperoni from her slice. “I’m hoping if I feed you, I can keep you a little longer.” She held the tidbit to his lips.
“I’ll stay as long as you want me.”
Her smile turned wicked, and her bright eyes flashed when his teeth scraped lightly over her finger. Steve returned the smile as he chewed.
“I want you,” she whispered into his ear.
This time, he didn’t hesitate at all.
****
The following morning, Steve was knee-deep in quarterly reports when the alert for his inbox chirped, indicating a new message. The profit and loss statements were instantly abandoned. A smile curved his lips as he clicked on Sara’s screen name. He opened the message to find a brief note explaining she was heading to her parents’ house for dinner and a link to a blog post about dealing with crazy authors. No mention of the night before. Not even a hint that he woke up with her hair spread across his chest.
Relief and disappointment battled it out in his gut. In the end, relief won, leaving him confused and more than a little bewildered. Steve pushed away from the desk and turned his chair. He steepled his fingers, letting them rest lightly against his lower lip as he closed his eyes.
He could have fallen asleep then and there. They hadn’t done much sleeping the night before, but he didn’t mind. He awoke this morning with her breasts smashed against his ribs and one smooth leg tangled between his. It was heaven, but confusion burned in his gut like the fires of hell.
The fact was, he had no idea how he was supposed to react to this new dynamic, and a teeny-tiny part of him resented her for it. After so many years of being her friend, just her friend, she’d thrown a wrench in the whole thing. Steve had no idea how he would ever go back to thinking of her as just a friend. Not after he’d tasted her, touched her, loved her with everything he had.
The worst part was Sara seemed completely unperturbed. He was the one who got up and dressed at the crack of dawn while she lay there in the tangled sheets and lifted a lazy hand to wave goodbye. He was the sucker stuck sitting at his desk wondering how to respond to an email that offered no clues. An email exactly like the thousands of emails they’d exchanged over the course of their friendship.
Which viral video do you send to the woman who was screaming your name just hours before? Should you even send something classified as ‘viral’ to someone with whom you’ve swapped much more than spit?
The scent of her clung to him. Thank God. He’d hated showering. He hated the soap that threatened to wash the perfume of her skin away and the water trickling down his neck like the brush of her fingertips. He resented the fact that he had to get dressed, go to work, and act like his whole world hadn’t been turned upside down.
Not that whatever was happening between them was a bad thing. This was the best thing to ever happen to him. He just wasn’t quite sure how it had all come about or where it was going to go. Dread trickled down his throat, shilling his heart and welling in his stomach.
Sara said she wanted me, but was it just for the one night? Was she serious about that research bit, or was that just a gambit to get me naked? God, I hope not.
He let his head fall forward, catching it in his palms. The heels of his hands pressed into his brow bone. Sara’s whispered confession about her books niggled at him. He needed answers, but a part of him was too scared to ask the questions.
Restless, he glanced at the clock and jumped from his seat, jettisoning his chair. After a brief, quiet word with his assistant, he slipped out of the office and into the stairway before one of his partners could spot him and delay his escape.
Ten minutes later, he stood outside of the bookstore with a bag containing the entire Sara Sloane collection. The weight of the paperbacks felt like
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