Closer (Stage Dive 4.60)

“Hmm. That’s sweet. But you’re missing the point. The thing is, if we’re going to be sharing a bed, I’m pretty certain things are going to happen.”

“After that kiss, you’re probably right.”

“So do you have a condom?”

He swallowed. “Yes.”

“Next question. Are you the kind of guy who judges girls for wanting to have sex on the first date? Not that we’ve even actually been on a date yet. But you get my meaning.”

“Fuck no. I try not to be a hypocritical douchebag whenever possible.”

“Good answer. Follow me.”

I turned and headed down the hallway. First off came my old tee. Next went my oh so glamorous sweatpants. Handy thing about having your own lingerie line, you tend to have a lot of nice underwear. Tonight’s set was black hipster panties and a matching bra with delicate embroidery and lace cups. By the muttered profanity behind me, he lik

ed them a lot. There was much to be said for boldness. Screw my foibles and insecurities. Ziggy wanted me and I wanted him and then some. Time to enjoy the moment and worry about the rest later.

I looked back over my shoulder at the bedroom door. My man was busy hopping along, pulling off a sneaker and sock. The other sneaker and sock were already littering the hallway. Sometimes it was fun to make a mess. Then he tore his T-shirt off over his head, exposing his gorgeous body to me. All of that skin I wanted to touch and taste. My fingers itched, my mouth started to water. If it weren’t for the bandage, so white against his tanned skin, everything would have been perfect.

“Don’t worry about it.” He cupped my face, gently kissing my lips. “I’m fine and I’m feeling better by the moment. Must have been that Chanel scarf of yours.”

I smiled. “Are you mocking my designer accessories?”

“Never.”

My hand slipped behind his neck, bringing his mouth back to mine. We kissed deep and hard and wet for a good long time. Who even needed oxygen or coherent thoughts? So overrated. His lips travelled over my jaw and down my neck, seeking out all of my sensitive spots. Some tickled. Some turned me on. All of it was good. Only when he gripped my waist and went to lift me did I crash back to Earth.

“Ziggy, no,” I said in a rush. “You’ll bust your stitches.”

He growled and rested his forehead against mine. “Sweetness, not to be crass or anything, but I’d dearly love to fuck you against this door.”

“That’s a nice idea. But neither of us wants to spend the night back in emergency.”

“True,” he grumped. “But I would like your legs wrapped around me. Mind if we head for the bed?”

“Actually, I’ve got a better and slightly safer idea that still involves the nice soft bed.” I tore open the top button of his jeans, lowered the zipper. Nice and careful-like I inched his jeans down over his hips and ass. “What if you lie down on your back and I climb on top of you? That way you won’t be holding yourself up or anything and there won’t be any pressure on your wound.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “I’m sorry this isn’t more spontaneous and wild.”

“Eh. We can do crazy monkey sex another time when you’re not hurt.”

“Promise?” he asked, planting a kiss on my lips.

“Promise. Now get on the bed already.”

His answering chuckle made my pussy clench. I swear. Even careful sex with this man might kill me. But it would be an awesome way to go.

“Just a minute,” he said, reaching around me to undo my bra. The straps slid down my shoulders and his eyes were huge, taking in my breasts. “I’ve been dreaming about these.”

“Have you?”

“Every fucking night. Your ass, your tits, your hair, your smile. Hell, your baking and hanging out in sweats. Everything about you gets to me.” His thumbs brushed over my nipples, turning hard to oh my God. He took their weight in each hand, massaging and squeezing. The man had large and capable hands. I thought I was in love. When he bent low to suck on my nipples, taking turns flicking and teasing them with his tongue, I shuddered and almost came. My panties were damp, clinging to the lips of my sex. Crazy town.

“You need to get on the bed,” I said, voice somewhat shaky. “Now.”

“Whatever you say.” Ziggy hustled off his jeans, his thumbs in the waistband of his navy boxer briefs. The outline of his cock without the denim in the way was even more impressive. “These too, Miss Cooper?”

“Hurry it up.”