Page 12 of Not Safe for Work
But now there was this, sweat still cooling on their bodies, both of them still breathing hard.
Then his voice, that glorious voice: “Just so you know, this isn’t typical for me.”
“What isn’t typical for you? The crazy sex or the crazy sex with someone you met for the first time at work like five days ago.”
“Both. Everything. All of it. The last time I dated a woman we didn’t even get to the fucking. We went out to dinner six or seven times and then politely decided it was best to go our separate ways.”
She couldn’t help looking at him sharply, then. Just to see if he was joking, maybe.
But he wasn’t. His expression was completely free of mischief.
“That is the most shocking thing I’ve ever heard,” she said, and he looked genuinely surprised to hear it.
“Really? What makes it shocking?”
“Well to start with . . . just look at you.”
She gestured at his face, his body.
Still he didn’t seem to get it at all.
“That sounds pretty ominous.”
“Are you kidding? It’s the opposite of ominous. Your face is like a recently unearthed statue that Michelangelo forgot to tell everyone he carved.”
He laughed, full throated, full bodied. “And that means she can’t politely decide to separate from me?”
“I would at least expect her to scream and claw at you while begging you not to go.”
“You seem to have a vastly inflated sense of my worth.”
“That would be impossible. You’re smart, sexy, funny, and handsome, and earn more in five minutes than I do in a year. Face it, pal, you’re the whole package.”
“Strange, I was thinking the same of you.”
“You were thinking that I was rich and handsome?”
“More like smart, sexy, and funny.”
“Before that day in your office I felt about as sexy as a straitjacket.”
“And now?” he asked, voice suddenly low and husky. One eyebrow raised in a way that turned her to jelly. She had a heavy urge to kiss him again even though they’d only recently stopped.
Instead, she said, “I’m all undone.”
“Oh, I love that answer. That answer makes me crazy.”
“I suspected that was the thing you liked about me. Getting to undo all the buttons.”
“I won’t deny that was one part of it.”
“So there are others then?”
Now his expression shifted, from suggestive and amused to something closer to concern. “You can’t have honestly thought that there weren’t.”
“I don’t know what I thought. I went home wondering if you tripped and fell into my pussy, and then you called me and I kind of had to rethink that.”
“You should rethink it,” he said, as low as before but now there was also his hand reaching out for her. He took a curl of her hair between two fingers, then ran the back of them over her cheek, then her jaw. By the time he got to her collarbone she was already a goner—and then he added words. “See yourself through my eyes: that deep blue gaze, that perfectly pinned hair, the dimple in your right cheek. The way you move like liquid inside those restraining suits. The wit at the back of your every word. The way you look when desire starts to take you over. How could any man resist?”
