like a virgin or something. “I
guess if you want to call it that. Do you?”
She shrugged and slid a little closer to him on the couch.
“Are you divorced?”
“Yes.” Steve’s every nerve jumped to high alert and he
realized she avoided answering his question.
“How long?” She wiggled her hips and inched closer still.
She’d be sitting in his lap before long.
Why did she want to know all this?
“About twelve years.”
She giggled with that bit of news and leaned over to touch
his arm. What’s so funny about that?
He realized she was touching him again. Girls do that
when they want to fuck you. John’s words came back yet again.
“Then I guess you don’t have sex much.”
He nearly spit out his drink. “Excuse me?”
“Sex. If you don’t go online much or date and have been
divorced for twelve years, you mustn’t have much sex.”
Steve watched her thigh, a mere inch from his, and chose to
not answer, because she was right. He wasn’t hounding all the time but he
wasn’t a monk either. He’d had his share but didn’t specifically go out looking
for it like some guys. He sucked back his drink and lifted his arm to check his
watch.
She rose from the couch all fluid grace and leaned over just
enough for him to catch a glimpse of her generous cleavage. Drawn like a
magnet, he shifted so he could see her tits better, arm still raised. Then he
jumped when her fingers dropped onto his thigh, a fraction away from his
already hard cock, and trailed a blistering path to his knee. If he didn’t know
better he could have sworn she’d just run a hot torch over his bare flesh. She
exuded sexuality so raw and powerful it left him paralyzed and he sat with his
arm stuck out like an idiot. So much for checking the time.
“I’ll be right back.” She dipped quickly, pressed her parted
lips to his and stood before he had a chance to react.
“Where are you going?”
“To get my bag.”
“Your bag? Why?”
“Weren’t you going to ask me to stay over?” She winked at
him. “It’s in my car.”
He was going to ask her to stay over? Steve thought about it
quickly. Yes, he supposed he was getting to that. But how the hell did she
know?
She has a fucking bag with her.
Clare flounced to the door and outside. He followed her and
peered into the dark country night that closed around her so completely. What
the fuck was she up to? He cleared his throat and adjusted the front of his
pants.
A thud of a car door reached him through the blackness. She
emerged from the dark rolling a suitcase over the gravel and up the front
walkway.
A suitcase! For one night? He was shocked as shit by her
audacity and secretly pleased by it too. But a suitcase? That really took the
cake.
What the hell could be in that monster-size bag? She did
seem a little high maintenance but a suitcase the size of a condo went a little
overboard. A thought ran through his mind and he chilled. Surely she wasn’t
planning on staying longer than tonight. He glanced at the offending bag. What
had he gotten himself into?
“I guess this means you’re staying the night then.” He
paused and looked at her, realizing how stupid the words sounded since it had
already been decided.
Clare propped her suitcase beside the door and turned to
face him, leaning against the wall.
“I thought you’d never ask.” She reached out. Steve hoped
she was going for the gold and held his breath, waiting for her fingers to grab
his balls. But she didn’t. Clare hooked her fingertips between the buttons on
his shirt and gave a little tug. Not hard enough to pull him off-balance but
enough to use as leverage to draw next to him.
Steve slipped his arms around her waist and held her. He
wanted to feel the press of her breasts against his chest. She tipped her head
to him, her lips moist and shiny. The color of her eyes was dark and
fathomless. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking and he really didn’t care
right about now. Steve was fairly
guess if you want to call it that. Do you?”
She shrugged and slid a little closer to him on the couch.
“Are you divorced?”
“Yes.” Steve’s every nerve jumped to high alert and he
realized she avoided answering his question.
“How long?” She wiggled her hips and inched closer still.
She’d be sitting in his lap before long.
Why did she want to know all this?
“About twelve years.”
She giggled with that bit of news and leaned over to touch
his arm. What’s so funny about that?
He realized she was touching him again. Girls do that
when they want to fuck you. John’s words came back yet again.
“Then I guess you don’t have sex much.”
He nearly spit out his drink. “Excuse me?”
“Sex. If you don’t go online much or date and have been
divorced for twelve years, you mustn’t have much sex.”
Steve watched her thigh, a mere inch from his, and chose to
not answer, because she was right. He wasn’t hounding all the time but he
wasn’t a monk either. He’d had his share but didn’t specifically go out looking
for it like some guys. He sucked back his drink and lifted his arm to check his
watch.
She rose from the couch all fluid grace and leaned over just
enough for him to catch a glimpse of her generous cleavage. Drawn like a
magnet, he shifted so he could see her tits better, arm still raised. Then he
jumped when her fingers dropped onto his thigh, a fraction away from his
already hard cock, and trailed a blistering path to his knee. If he didn’t know
better he could have sworn she’d just run a hot torch over his bare flesh. She
exuded sexuality so raw and powerful it left him paralyzed and he sat with his
arm stuck out like an idiot. So much for checking the time.
“I’ll be right back.” She dipped quickly, pressed her parted
lips to his and stood before he had a chance to react.
“Where are you going?”
“To get my bag.”
“Your bag? Why?”
“Weren’t you going to ask me to stay over?” She winked at
him. “It’s in my car.”
He was going to ask her to stay over? Steve thought about it
quickly. Yes, he supposed he was getting to that. But how the hell did she
know?
She has a fucking bag with her.
Clare flounced to the door and outside. He followed her and
peered into the dark country night that closed around her so completely. What
the fuck was she up to? He cleared his throat and adjusted the front of his
pants.
A thud of a car door reached him through the blackness. She
emerged from the dark rolling a suitcase over the gravel and up the front
walkway.
A suitcase! For one night? He was shocked as shit by her
audacity and secretly pleased by it too. But a suitcase? That really took the
cake.
What the hell could be in that monster-size bag? She did
seem a little high maintenance but a suitcase the size of a condo went a little
overboard. A thought ran through his mind and he chilled. Surely she wasn’t
planning on staying longer than tonight. He glanced at the offending bag. What
had he gotten himself into?
“I guess this means you’re staying the night then.” He
paused and looked at her, realizing how stupid the words sounded since it had
already been decided.
Clare propped her suitcase beside the door and turned to
face him, leaning against the wall.
“I thought you’d never ask.” She reached out. Steve hoped
she was going for the gold and held his breath, waiting for her fingers to grab
his balls. But she didn’t. Clare hooked her fingertips between the buttons on
his shirt and gave a little tug. Not hard enough to pull him off-balance but
enough to use as leverage to draw next to him.
Steve slipped his arms around her waist and held her. He
wanted to feel the press of her breasts against his chest. She tipped her head
to him, her lips moist and shiny. The color of her eyes was dark and
fathomless. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking and he really didn’t care
right about now. Steve was fairly
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