Not Safe for Work

By: L. A. Witt

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come to my place? It’s a little more private than a hotel room, and we won’t be encroaching on your ex.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Mind?” His lips curved into a dizzying grin. “After everything we just did and everything we’re talking about doing? Do I mind?”

I laughed and leaned in for a kiss. “In that case, count me in.” I only meant for a quick kiss, but decided I liked how his lips felt, so I let it go on. He didn’t object. When I nudged him, he rolled onto his back, and somewhere in the middle of shifting positions, the kiss deepened. He gripped the back of my neck as I ran my hand up and down his side. He was assertive enough to touch me, letting his hands drift all over my skin just like I did his, but totally compliant—a little nudge, a little push, and he’d move, bend, stop, start. Jesus. Just being against me and kissing me, he pushed all my buttons, and I couldn’t wait to tie him down and push his.

Eventually, I broke the kiss, and we panted against each other’s lips.

“What were we talking about?” he asked.

“Fucking again, I think.” I combed my fingers through his hair. “Don’t know if I can come three times in one night. I’m not twenty anymore.”

He let his lips graze mine. “Neither am I.”

“Don’t think I need to come again, though.” I kissed him again. “I just like…kissing you.”

He wrapped his arms around me. “Far be it from me to stop you…”

Chapter Five

The next day, my GPS guided me to Rick’s place. Unsurprisingly, the house was beautiful. Working in the field of architecture for my entire adult life had made me a connoisseur of buildings, and it took a lot to impress me.

This place? This place impressed me.

A high brick wall surrounded a manicured lawn, and a curving, tree-lined driveway led me to the front of a stunning three-story Tudor. It toed the line between huge and obscenely huge, but was nestled in amongst a cluster of thick pines, all strategically arranged as if to emphasize the house’s strong points, but give it the illusion of being hidden.

I parked in front of a four-car garage, pulled my small backpack from the passenger seat, and headed up the walk.

Just as I reached the bottom step, the front door opened.

And I nearly stopped in my tracks. Forget the house. Even after spending the better part of last night in bed with him, just seeing him there—dressed down in jeans and a gold shirt—made my heart skip.

“Hey,” I said as I came up the front steps.

“Hey.” He smiled, letting his nerves show as he pushed his hands into his pockets. Then he quickly withdrew them but didn’t seem to know what to do with them.

I, however, had no trouble figuring out what to do with mine—I cupped his neck in both hands and kissed him.

Without missing a beat, he wrapped his arms around me. Our combined center of gravity shifted—I couldn’t say who’d moved or which way we’d gone, but suddenly we were off balance, so I pushed him up against the door frame to keep us upright. And, hell, having Rick pinned up against a wall or a door was rapidly becoming one of my favorite pastimes, so why not?

My backpack slid off my shoulder, and I let it fall. It hit the concrete with a heavy clunk and a muffled jingle. Rick straightened, sucking in a breath through his nose, but he kept right on kissing me.

Jesus Christ. Was I really standing in the doorway of a multimillion-dollar home, kissing the hell out of Rick Pierce with a bag full of kinky sex toys at our feet?

Yes. Yes, I was. And despite being barely twenty-four hours into this, it felt absolutely right. Less “how the hell did we get to this?” and more “how the fuck did it take so long?”

When we came up for air, he was breathing hard as he met my gaze. “And hello to you too.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No. No. Definitely…” He rested a shaky hand on my hip. “Definitely not complaining.”

I grinned. “Good.”

We separated, and Rick picked up my bag and stood aside to let me in. “I’d, um, give you the tour, but…” He swallowed as I stepped past him. “Somehow I don’t think you’re any more interested in the house right now than I am.”

“Oh, one of these days, I’ll want to see the whole place.” I glanced around the foyer—Roman style? Totally not what I expected after seeing the exterior. I quickly lost interest in my surroundings, though, and looked right at him. “But I’ve been thinking about you ever since I left the hotel.”

“Likewise. Maybe we should’ve made last night an all-nighter.”

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