Will bit his lip and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You'd think I'd be better at this, as many times as I've watched Sex In The City. But everything I can come up with sounds contrived and awkward. Maybe since you've undoubtedly had more practice at this than I have, you could tell me. Is it okay to just come out and say I'd like for you to spend the night? Is that acceptable?”
She forced a casual stance and gripped the edge of the counter hard.
He just stood there looking at her until she began to consider throwing an apricot at him, when he shifted.
“Man. You really are bad at this, aren't you?”
“I told you. I have no practice.”
“You should take a class or something.”
“I thought about just leaving the room and coming back naked.”
He pushed off from the counter and took a step toward her. “Next time go with that.” His gaze roamed over her face, flicked down and then back up in a flash. “Or just give that look you have.”
“I have a look?”
“Sure. You know, big eyes, wet lips, looking like you’re holding your breath.” He stepped so close she could see the dark specks in his blue eyes. “Like you’re waiting to be kissed.”
“Oh, I just do that –” She couldn’t breathe. She licked her lips and tried to catch her breath. “I just do that when I’m waiting to be kissed.”
But he didn’t kiss her. He stood close enough she thought she could hear his heartbeat, could feel the warmth from his body, but he didn’t touch her.
“We did agree to keep things cool,” she reminded him.
“I know.” He lifted one broad shoulder and his eyes sparked. “But that was back when I thought you were trying to have me put in jail.”
“And either I’m not trying to do that, or I’m remarkably bad at that, too.” Oh, it made her heart flip when he smiled at her like that, like he both adored her and wanted to eat her alive. “So despite the awkward proposition, you're going to stay?” She didn't sound too hopeful, did she?
“Oh, I was already planning to stay. With your permission, of course.”
“Why didn't you say something?”
“I was going to, after the muffins were finished. I didn't want to burn them.”
“You mean I could have waited –”she looked at the clock behind him. “Fifty minutes and avoided this humiliation?”
He stepped toward her. “Yes, but then we wouldn't have this memory to share.”
“Oh please.”
He laughed, softly. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“What you were going to ask me.”
“But you already know –”
“I want to hear you say it.” Something feral flashed in his blue eyes.
She swallowed, then smiled. “I want you to…well, I want you.”
In the next heartbeat he had her pinned against the refrigerator, his hands in her hair and his knee between her legs, kissing her senseless. She realized he'd been holding back as much as she had, if not more. His heart beat against her own, heat pooled between her legs and she pushed against his thigh.
He groaned and pushed back, a delicious pressure that made her heart thunder and brought all the things she'd been thinking about to the forefront. She gripped his shoulders, opening her mouth to his tongue, letting the flame immediately burn out of control.
“You're sure?” he murmured as his lips nipped at hers.
“Mmmhmmm,” she said. Then she remembered. She drew her head back. “Wait.”
Will pulled away, his teeth gritted. “I knew it. I had a feeling once you had me all worked up –”
“Wait, wait,” she said hurriedly, her hands up. “It's just that…I'm still married.”
He raked a hand through his hair, his jaw set and his blue eyes blazing. “What?”
She looked at the clock. “I'm still married. For forty-five minutes. If we could just wait…” She let the sentence hang, certain he was about to strangle her.
He stood in the middle of the room, his breath so ragged it filled the silence. “Oh my God,” he said finally. “Are you serious?”
She shrugged and failed an attempt at a smile.
He narrowed his eyes. “You are serious.”
“We could…finish the muffins?”
He stared.
If he didn't stop, she decided, she would simply crawl inside the refrigerator.
At last he took a deep breath, then shot her a narrowed-eye look and started fiddling with his watch.
“What are you doing?”
He answered without looking up. “Setting my alarm for midnight, of course. You know, it's tomorrow already on the East coast.”
She laughed. “I know.” She moved to him and put her hand on his. “Thank you.”
“If you want me to wait, you're going to have to quit touching me.”
“Grumpy.”
“The word is horny. Out of my mind horny. And stopped looking so shocked. In forty-five minutes you're going to be really glad I am.”
Her heart flipped over in her chest. He turned to face her and put a firm hand on her chin. “Listen. You'd better spend the next forty-five minutes making absolutely, abso-frigging-lutely sure of what you want. Because if you get me started again, and then tell me to stop…” He looked off, then back at her with intensity. “I'll stop. But only to strangle you and chop your body into little bits.”
She swallowed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Sure,” he said, lifting the knife. “Sure.”
Karen cleared her throat. “Well…so…how about that Kitty, huh?”
They passed the next forty-five minutes baking and discussing what Kitty might have that she thought they should see.
“Some kind of proof that Michael paid her to set us up, hopefully,” Will said, leaning over the oven door. “Your friend wrote the muffins were ready to come out when they were the color of a sun-kissed pomegranate. Was she serious?”
“Oh, yes. Midge never jokes about sun-kissed things.” She leaned over and looked at the muffins. “Look sun-kissed to me. What do you think?”
“I think we’re going to get an F on this project.”
“It won’t be my first F.” She placed the pan on a trivet and slid another batch into the oven. “How about you?”
“Actually, it would be. I made pretty good grades in school.” He raised an eyebrow. “Better than Michael.”
Karen laughed. “Really? No wonder he hates you so much. His ego is the biggest thing about him.”
Will turned the water on and tested it until it grew warm. “The only time he ever beat me, grade wise, was when he cheated. It was close sometimes, but every year I edged him out by having the highest GPA. It always infuriated him.” Will smiled as he rinsed out the mixing bowl.
“What else did you compete for?”
“Everything. He won some things, of course. He was a faster runner than I was, and that made me as crazy as the grades made him. He was more popular, had a better car.” He shook his head. “Every time we had a fund raiser for anything, class projects, football, whatever, he always trounced me. I’ve never been able to get people to buy anything from me.”
“Now I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true. Michael was a much better salesman than I was.” He shrugged, not looking upset in the least.
“I wonder what he sold Kitty to get her to work for him. I’m dying to know what she has on him. I hope it’s something really good.”
“There’s no telling till we see it. As long as it gives us something to work with…” He put the bowl in the dishwasher and began rinsing spoons. “And if it’s not, we can always bluff.”
“Bluff with what?”
“All we have to do is let Michael know we’ve talked to Kitty. He doesn’t have to know exactly what we have. In fact it might be better to let him wonder.”
“What if that doesn’t scare him?”
Will turned the wa
ter off and leaned back against the sink, drying his hands. “Think about it for a moment. He’s a politician who has been associating with a topless dancer. If she has so much as a picture of them together – even if it’s a completely innocent picture – that would be enough to ruin his chances at Haney’s seat.” He laid the towel down. “But I’m betting she has a lot more than that.”
“I’m dying to know what it is.”
“It has to be good for her to approach us. She may not be brilliant but I think she’s the kind of girl who knows how to play this game. Pictures maybe, or a recording of him paying her off.”
Karen sighed. “I never thought I’d be hoping my ex-husband would be caught trying to frame me.”
Will’s watch beeped then and they both started. Will looked at his watch. His eyes met hers, and the corner of his mouth tipped up just slightly, not quite a smile.
“Well okay,” he said, dusting off his hands. “Let's go.”
“You sweet talker.” She put her hand on her hip and smiled at him.
He didn't smile back. Instead he stepped close, slipped his finger inside the placket of her shirt, and slid the top button open.
Instantly her nipples grew hard and her breasts heavy. His hands were inches from them, and baby, they knew it. She thought for a moment her breasts were going to shift themselves under his hands of their own accord.
He kept his eyes steady on hers, his gaze intense and probing, and she began to feel more exposed and vulnerable than she could remember feeling in a long time, more vulnerable even than when he had his hand on her bare butt.
“There are more,” she said, raising her hand to guide his to the next button.
He did smile then, a wicked smile that shot heat into the pit of her stomach and radiated down and up. He made quick work of the buttons and pushed her shirt back from her shoulders. She lowered her arms and the shirt slid to the floor.
Thank God I wore the Victoria Secret bra today. His gaze heated a trail over her breasts. His hand followed, lightly, until her nipples throbbed with the need of his touch.
“That's nice,” she said. “But…” She reached behind her and unhooked the clasp of her bra. Her breasts sprang free and she wiggled her shoulders so the bra slid down her arms. He filled his hands with her, his palms hot and a little rough against her sensitized skin. She gasped for air, leaning against the counter for support. “But that's better,” she breathed.
He chuckled and bent to kiss a trail along her neck and shoulder. “I agree. Much better.”
She slid her hands into his hair. She was fascinated by his hair. He lowered his head to her breast and took her nipple in his hot mouth, softly at first, then tugging so that she fisted her hands in his hair and hung on, her knees growing weak. Already, she was on fire.
Already, hell, she thought. This had been four days of foreplay. It was about damn time they were here.
Here. In her house. The house she'd shared with Michael. The house where she'd raised her kids. She raised her head, suddenly panic-stricken.
He sensed her change in mood immediately, and jerked his head back. “What?” The look in his dark eyes was ominous.
She swallowed, her heart still pounding, her lower body still aching. “Nothing.”
“What's wrong? Tell me.”
“Nothing. I was just thinking…”
His chest heaved with the labor of his breathing and she thought she might be one second away from him throwing her out of her own house. “Well then stop. Don't think. No thinking. Did you think I was joking about chopping you into little pieces?”
“I wasn’t going to tell you to stop. I was just wondering where we were…you know. Where? We can't go to my bed. That's where I slept with Michael. And we certainly can't go to one of my kids' beds. That's sick. So where…”
“Oh.” He breathed a sigh, his breath still coming ragged. “Okay.” He wiped a hand along his jaw and looked around. “Hey, all we need is a flat surface, right? This looks good to me.” He slapped a hand against the kitchen counter.
“You're kidding.”
He put both hands on her butt and lifted her onto the counter.
“You're not kidding.”
He kissed her then, one arm tight around her waist, the other hand hard on her breast. His urgency spurred her own, and she felt her own breath grow heavy and fast as his, her heart race, tension knot between her legs until she wanted to rip her hair out. She settled for tugging his shirt over his head. God, he was magnificent. All hard planes and grooves, swells and dips. She ran her hand along the curve of his shoulders and biceps, her desire for him growing with each second.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the counter, flush against him, and she realized the wisdom of his choice of locations. This was perfect. She pressed against him, feeling him hard and swollen and warm through his jeans.
She reached for the button of his jeans, but his hands wrapped over hers. “Wait,” he said gruffly.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I could use that cleaver too, you know.”
“I just…” He stopped and raked a hand through his hair. “This wasn't how I pictured this.”
“How you pictured what?”
“Our first time. Not like this. On the kitchen counter in the middle of-” He waved a hand at the pile of dirty dishes. “I wanted to take my time, in a bed, and love you the way you deserve it.” He threaded his hands through her hair, desire making his voice rough. “To make you scream my name. I wanted to do it right.”
She swallowed and wanted to tell him how sweet that was and good that sounded, but she thought that if she didn't get him inside her within the next thirty seconds she was going to explode. She stroked his face, breathing hard, and said, “That sounds like a definite plan for next time. Right now I really think you should fuck me.”
“Good idea.” He unsnapped and unzipped her jeans, she wriggled her hips while he tugged them off and dropped them on the floor. The counter was cool and hard against her heated skin.
He kissed her deeply, his tongue probing, making her moan in her throat. He slipped his hand between her legs, and ran one knuckle slowly, lightly up the length of her.
She gasped with the intensity of her response to the light but insistent touch, her heart beating out of her chest. She couldn't catch her breath. “Do that again,” she said, her voice almost a sob.
“You liked that?” She felt his smile against her lips, and he ran his finger back down, up to the top, around in a circle so maddeningly soft and slow that she felt frenzied, desperate. She was so close to the brink that she had to grip his shoulders and hang on for dear life.
“You're there, baby,” he whispered against her mouth. “Go ahead. Let go, Karen. Let go.” He dipped a finger into her, and she cried out and arched against him. His thumb rose up and stroked her softly, she threw her head back and the orgasm was on her, huge and fierce.
“Oh God!” she cried. “Oh Will!”
She moved against his hand, waves rolling over her, making her sob and clutch at his shoulders.
She collapsed against him, her breath ragged, clinging to him while aftershocks rocked her. She whimpered when he drew away, but he didn't go far, just enough to reach into his back pocket and draw out a condom.
She took it from him and ripped it open while he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, her hands shaking as she took him in her hands and rolled the condom over him. He pressed his forehead to hers and watched as she did, his hands gripping her forearms. He moaned as her fingers smoothed it out.
He glided smoothly in with one stroke, then stayed there for the space of ten long heartbeats, filling her, simply being there. He buried his face in her hair.
“Oh Karen,” he said, and her heart leapt at the fierceness she heard there. “Oh, God, I knew you'd be this good.”
He moved inside her, anchoring her hips and rocking, rhythmic, steady, powerful. Every time he moved, she quaked inside. She felt the tension mount again, steadi
ly until the wave was on her again, rolling over and through her. She cried his name again, bucking until she felt herself squeeze tight against him, and he roared her name.
Karen realized after long moments that her mouth was close to his ear and she was probably about to make him deaf from her heavy breathing.
She raised her head and cleared her throat. The edge of the counter bit into the backs of her legs, and she just realized they'd left the kitchen lights on.
“Oh no,” she said, but her heart wasn't in it.
“What's wrong?” he mumbled, sounding about as interested as she was.
“I left the lights on.”
“And?”
“I'll bet Midge is watching over here to make sure I am making the muffins.”
His chest rumbled as he laughed. “Oh yeah, we’re making the muffins all right.”
“At least she saw something worth looking at.” She laid her head back on his shoulder and breathed in deeply the scent of him, of them together. She found that she didn't really care what Midge saw or didn't see. All she cared about right now was staying right where she was. Except…
She shifted a little.
“Uncomfortable?”
“No. Well, a little.” But she didn't want him to move.
He did move, but he took her with him. He threaded his hands together, scooped them under her bottom and walked her like that to the living room. He knelt on the couch and lay down on top of her.
She grinned and pulled Pam’s afghan off the back of the couch and threw it over them. “Now this is comfortable. I don't know why I didn't think of the couch before.”
“Hmmm.” He kissed her neck. “I wasn't hearing any complaints about the kitchen counter.”
“No, definitely no complaints there.”
He nipped at her earlobe. “You're incredible.”
“Me? All I did was enjoy myself.”
“Oh, I know. Twice.”
She laughed, a little embarrassed. “Right. Twice.” Did that make her some kind of animal? She thought about it and decided she kind of liked the idea.
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