by Claire Kent
Erin laughed hysterically, the amount of Scotch she’d drunk thus far making his story even funnier than it should have been. They’d ended up at a little hole-in-the-wall in a nearby town. They’d been the first customers of the evening, and the place still wasn’t crowded, although the country music was blaring.
“Was that why you broke up?” She raised her glass to him in a pseudo-toast, since it felt appropriate for some reason.
They both drank, Seth nearly emptying his glass and Erin only taking a medium-sized sip. She didn’t really like Scotch enough to gulp it down, even after the amount she’d already drunk.
“Nah,” Seth replied once he’d swallowed. “It was when she had sex on a Saturday with someone else.”
Even that Erin found funny. “Did she break your heart?”
“It is a truth universally acknowledged that I have no heart to break.”
She reached over and patted his arm across the table. “Poor Seth. Unfairly reviled by the world and reduced to stealing lines from Jane Austen.”
Seth chuckled, a leisurely, husky laugh that made her shiver a little.
“That’s a really good laugh,” she offered, very generously, as she finished off her drink.
“I aim to please in all things.” Seth picked up the bottle, refilled her glass, and then topped off his. “But I wasn’t stealing lines. My use of the quotation was transformative rather than derivative and so would clearly fall under Fair Use, even if the material was copyrighted. Which it’s not. Austen is in the public domain now.
They both drank again, and Erin watched as Seth licked the residual liquid off his lips.
She had the irrational desire to lick his lips for him. She shifted slightly against the hard wooden chair, since she wasn’t normally inflicted with such ludicrous urges.
To distract herself, she raised her glass. “To Jane Austen.”
“To Jane Austen. And all the girly movies I’ve been forced to watch, thanks to her.” After he drank, he licked his lips again, and Erin stared at his mouth relentlessly, thinking it might get him to stop.
“What?” Seth demanded, apparently noticing her distraction. “We were toasting Austen, weren’t we?” He looked around the room, as if searching for confirmation of this fact.
“Stop licking your lips.” Erin leaned forward and gave him her most authoritative stare.
“Sorry. What’s wrong with that?” Seth blinked at her in slightly dazed surprise, as if he’d realized she was serious about this. He’d had significantly more to drink than she had, but they seemed to be at about the same degree of intoxication.
“Licking your lips is giving me lascivious thoughts.”
“Ah,” he murmured, slumping farther down against the hard bench and nearly draining his glass. “That makes sense.” His eyes crawled over the part of her body he could see above the table. “While we’re on the subject, you can do something about your nipples.”
Erin looked down in surprise at her chest. Her nipples poked out visibly through her thin, stretchy top. “Oh. When did that happen?”
“They’ve been like that for a half-hour now. Very inconsiderate of you.”
“Sorry. Not sure what I can do about it.”
“Probably nothing. Thus I’ll try to ignore them.”
“Thank you.” Erin thought this was very kind and reasonable on Seth’s part and decided she would do her best to ignore any more incidents of lip-licking that occurred.
Then she thought back to what he’d just said and added admiringly, “Excellent use of the word ‘thus.’ I’m impressed.”
“You should be. I’m particularly lucid tonight.”
“I need to pee.” She put down her glass and waved Seth away when he tried to refill it.
He nodded, as if she’d made an insightful point. “Always good to recognize such things.”
Erin was a little dizzy when she stood up, but she made it to the bathroom without incident. After she’d gone, she stared at herself in the mirror. She was flushed and groggy-looking. Her long blond hair hung messily around her shoulders, and her nipples were still clearly visible. She tried to adjust her shirt to hide them, but they wouldn’t go away.
She wandered back to the table, grumbling about the stubbornness of nipples, to find Seth staring broodingly at his empty glass.
She watched him for a minute. Then, “Are you all right?”
He jerked his head toward her, as if he hadn’t realized she’d returned. “Yeah.”
Studying him closely, she decided she didn’t believe him. He was flushed from warmth and the Scotch, adorably rumpled in his wrinkled suit and loosened tie, and sprawled out on the booth seat. But he looked vulnerable somehow.
Wounded.
She sat down beside him, instead of in her chair. “I’m switching to water. If I drink any more, I might throw up.” This she said by way of explanation, so he wouldn’t think she was giving up on their evening.
“Very sensible of you.”
“Throwing up in front of you would be embarrassing.”
Seth nodded. “It wouldn’t be very pleasant for me either.”
Then he licked his lips the way he had before.
Erin watched his tongue slide across the supple line of each lip, moistening each as it went.
She moved toward him. Slid her hands up his chest until they settled on his shoulders. “I asked you to stop licking your lips.”
His mouth parted slightly, perhaps in surprise, but he didn’t have time to say anything.
She took a moment to remind herself she wasn’t shy anymore. Nothing and no one was controlling her.
Ever since her divorce, she’d cultivated a number of strongholds—her independence, her no-nonsense attitude, her career, her rejection of romance—everything that would keep her from falling into the same powerlessness she’d felt with Marcus.
Now she could do anything she wanted.
Leaning her face forward, she pressed her lips into his. He was warm and solid beneath her, and he made a little grunt in his throat.
He tasted and smelled like Scotch, and also something fainter, more masculine.
When she relaxed her mouth on his, he murmured against her lips, “What was that?”
“That,” she pronounced, pleased she was thinking so clearly, “was a kiss.”
* * *
A few hours later, they stumbled into one of the bedrooms of Mac’s old house—a house that now belonged to Seth.
By this point, Erin had sobered up quite a bit. She was buzzed enough for her inhibitions to be significantly lowered, but she was convinced she knew what she was doing. She figured Seth was in the same general condition, so going to bed with him seemed a perfectly reasonable thing to do.
As they fell into the room, they were already half in an embrace, and Erin started yanking at Seth’s loosened tie.
They had made out for a while in the bar, debating the merits of taking it any further. They both had come up with valid points on either side of the argument.
Erin had been draped across Seth during most of their conversation, kissing him, nibbling little lines down his jaw and neck, tangling her fingers through his hair. And his hands had been busy in places on her body that were fortunately hidden by the table.
The real goal for their conversation had obviously been to see who could come up with the more nuanced argument in their tipsy state, since their decision was pretty well made from the beginning.
At this point, it was all irrelevant. They’d taken a cab back to the house, and Erin was now pushing him backward toward the bed as she slid his tie out from under his collar.
Seth’s hands had been curved around her ass, but he now fit them under the fabric of her shirt and started to push it up. When he had it bunched up under her arms, Erin released him so he could pull her shirt off all the way.
When she lowered one of her hands, she could feel the tight bulge at the front of his pants. She pressed into it with her palm, watching as he winced
slightly in response to her touch.
“You sure?” he muttered, a slight sheen of perspiration on his face.
Erin pushed him backward a step further, until the back of his legs connected with the mattress. “Are you kidding?” she mumbled, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. “Remember what we said about not blowing our one chance? From now on, when I see you on a cable news show, I’ll get to say that I fucked you once.”
He chuckled and started working on the clasp to her bra, managing to unhook it on the third try.
“Let me tell you, I’ve heard all about your sex-god reputation.” Erin dropped her bra onto the floor and then pushed his shirt off his shoulders, trying to pull the sleeves over his hands. The cuffs got hung up for a minute on his wrists. Eventually, with both of them tugging on it, Seth shed his white dress shirt, baring a very fine chest.
“So you better not disappoint me,” she concluded, pleased with her victory over the stubborn shirt and thrilled with the sight of his chest.
He unbuttoned and then unzipped her black pants, easing them down over her hips. “Depends how high your expectations are. I’m not sure today’s my best day.”
“Typical,” she muttered, stepping out of her pants. Then she pushed Seth backwards until he ended up sprawled sideways on the bed. She was naked except for her panties, and she draped herself over him, ignoring the little voice in the back of her head that kept asking whether she was really doing this.
She spoke what her whole life had taught her was true. “Reality rarely meets our expectations.”
Despite his earlier qualification, Seth’s face was immediately offended. “I’ll have you know, I’m damned good in bed.”
Erin giggled, realizing that they both were still obviously somewhat affected by the alcohol. “Good to know.” She arched her back as Seth began to twirl her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. “And, just so we’re clear, so am I.”
“Never doubted it.”
Their foreplay was rather clumsy and random, but since they were already aroused, it ended up being effective anyway.
Eventually, they both were stripped naked, and Erin straddled his hips, her hands stroking his face and his chest. She was breathing heavily now and grinding her arousal against the lower part of his belly. The friction was highly pleasurable, and, as he tweaked her nipples and watched her squirm above him, her motion became more shameless.
Before she could get anywhere with it, he’d pulled her upper body down toward his and flipped them over, so that he was suddenly on top of her instead. They were now lying diagonally on the bed, but they were on it far enough for only her ankles and feet to be hanging over the side.
“Hey,” she objected, blinking up at him. “I was having fun. You’re not like my ex, are you? Always having to be on top?”
Marcus had never been rough or demeaning in bed, just like he’d never been abusive—emotionally or physically—in their marriage. It had simply been two years of endless frustration, of running into the brick wall of his will.
Seth lowered his mouth to her throat and lapped his tongue over her pulse. “I don’t always have to be on top. But if you had any more of that kind of fun, it would be the only fun you had for a while.”
It took a minute for her befuddled mind to untangle that one, but she eventually figured it out. “Oh. I see. About to lose it, were you? Just from watching me?” She preened a little as she ran her hands down his back and to the firm muscles of his ass. “I thought you were supposed to have iron control.”
Seth lifted his head from her neck and sneered down at her. “My control is exceptional.”
She giggled again and then mewed when his mouth suddenly closed over one of her breasts. He sucked gently. Then flicked his tongue over her tight nipple. Then sucked again, this time combining the suction with the flutter of his tongue.
The stimulation on her breast was delicious, and it sent jolts and tugs of pleasure down to her growing arousal. She grabbed at his head, pressing it in toward her breast. Soon started panting and rocking her hips up into him, trying to find something to rub against.
She found his erection with her hip and bucked up into it a few times. Then she readjusted so she could rub herself against his shaft with something other than her hip.
He grunted roughly over her nipple. “Fuck.” His blue eyes were rather dazed, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol, the desire, or a combination of both.
“Condom,” she gasped, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the deepening pressure between her legs, the weight and heat of his body on top of her, and the remaining effects of the Scotch.
“Right,” he muttered. He kept suckling her breast, though, one of his hands fondling the other one at the same time.
Erin writhed beneath him, using one hand to claw clumsily at his shoulder and clutching the bedding with the other. “Seth. Move it.”
“Right,” he said again, the vibrations from his husky voice providing additional stimulation on her sensitive nipple. “Condom.”
He finally pulled off her and then sat on the edge of the bed, naked and fully erect, panting and rubbing his eyes.
Something in his pose gave her a sudden jolt of anxiety. “You still want to do this?”
She was stretched out on top of the covers, hot and aroused and wanting to squirm in frustration. She would be very disappointed if she didn’t get to have sex.
He glanced over. Gave that irresistible half-smile she remembered from so long ago. “Yeah. Just taking a breather.”
“Some sex god. Has to rest every few minutes or else he wears himself out.”
In response, Seth gave her a frigid glare that made her gasp in amusement. While she laughed, he reached over to the overnight bag on the floor and pulled out a couple of condom packets.
When he’d gotten the condom rolled on, he moved on top of her again. Positioned himself between her thighs.
Erin bent her knees and parted her legs even more. “Finally. This better be good.”
He stared down at her, something vague and indescribable in his eyes. “When did you get so cynical?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You weren’t like this before. You were that quiet, dreamy girl who was always reading poetry and love stories.”
So he did remember her. She couldn’t help but feel a swell of satisfaction that she’d made some sort of impression on him back then.
But her reaction just annoyed her, so she hid it. “You didn’t know me at all. How do you know what books I read?”
“Obviously, I know you were reading Byron. And I always look to see what people are reading. Don’t you?”
She did.
Erin made a frustrated sound in her throat and pushed aside the very strange bedroom talk. She reached around to grab his ass and pull him into position. “This is hardly the time for such a discussion, and I’m not that cynical.”
In response to her pulling at him, Seth brought a hand down so he could line up his cock, edging the tip inside her. “Yes, you are.”
If she pumped her hips, she could get some tingling friction from the very slight penetration. It wasn't enough, but it was something. “I’m not cynical. I’m realistic. I don’t have silly romantic dreams anymore.” She paused to pant a little, since her exertion was making her lose her breath more quickly than she’d like.
Seth slid himself more deeply inside her, and she moaned in relief as his hard substance filled and stretched her.
Closing his eyes, Seth ducked his head and breathed deeply for a few moments. Then he met her eyes again. “I guess dreams usually just disappoint.”
“Exactly. Thus, I’m a realist now.”
“Excellent use of the word ‘thus.’” He gave her another little smile and made a couple of quick thrusts, which almost seemed involuntary.
She shuddered at the sensations generated by the small movement, but she couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you.”
Tensing his muscle
s, Seth pulled his pelvis back, sliding his cock almost out. Then he paused briefly. Stroked back in.
Erin bit back a moan with another shudder of pleasure. She wrapped her arms around his back and held on, her fingers digging into his skin.
Clenching his jaw, Seth pulled back again. Gave another slow thrust. This time, Erin raised her hips to meet it, changing the angle of penetration and creating more intense sensations.
She hummed low in her throat as she felt a deep pressure start to build at her center. Seth continued his steady thrusting, and she kept matching his strokes with her hips.
Her mind had become a blur now—the whole scene surreal and almost fantastic. She was laid out diagonally on a bed in Mac’s old house, with a panting Seth Thomas between her legs, after having had a conversation that revealed her more intimately than any she could remember. The day had seemed endless, and she could still feel a pleasant buzz from her intoxication.
The implausibility of the whole situation gave it a wild thrill it might not otherwise have had.
The friction from his thrusting was definitely working, and Erin could feel an orgasm swelling up. She started pumping her hips harder.
Seth must have recognized the change in her body because his rhythm accelerated. His face was tense, and his forehead glistened with sweat. As he stared down at her in a hot kind of daze, he muttered, “You coming?”
“Maybe,” she gasped, squirming in an attempt to get more friction. The sensations continued to coalesce, but wouldn’t release.
Erin whimpered and tossed her head on the pillow. Mumbled, “God, oh, God,” and bucked up into his motion as frantically as she could.
He watched her intently, and his lips were pressed into a tight line. His panting had turned into soft, rhythmic grunts, but he still seemed to be in control of himself.
When the pleasure wouldn't crest, Erin made a frustrated, sobbing noise and flopped back on the mattress.
Then she brought one of her hands down from his back and tried to squeeze it in between their bodies.
Seth’s pelvis was too close to hers, and she couldn’t get her hand in place.
She nudged at the space that connected his body with hers. “Seth, pull up.”
