She moves and I slide out, and all at once I realize. Where the fuck was my brain just now? “I’m sorry. I-I swear to you, I’m clean. I didn’t even—”
“Stop.” She reaches up and puts two fingers lightly on my lips. “I wasn’t thinking either. I guess I trust you. I’m on the pill, so we should be okay.”
It’s a huge relief and an amazing turn-on. I love the feel of her body around me. I’d never put her in danger, and I don’t condone recklessness. Seems with this woman, I’m always getting lucky.
“So you were saying dinner?” She pulls me out of my thoughts, and I smile, scooping her to me by her lower back. Her bare chest is flush against mine, and it feels so good.
“I’m meeting with my partner Paul and his wife Kitty. She has some nephew who needs entrée into society...”
She’s tracing my chest hair with her fingertips in the most distracting way. “You get that a lot?” She blinks up again and gives me a little smile.
“I’m afraid so. I’m not sure why. I guess because I keep a low profile, people think I’m a role model.”
“They haven’t seen you at your desk.” Her naughty tone has my dick perking up again.
“You’ll be interested to know we just christened this desk. Up to now, it was very pure and wholesome.”
At that she laughs out loud. It’s an infectious, musical sound, and I smile laughing with her. “Are you accusing me of being a bad influence?”
Leaning forward, I briefly peck her small nose. “You’re certainly not good.”
With a nod, she grows serious, lowering her feet to the floor and standing, smoothing her dress down her hips. “I should be more professional.”
Catching her upper arms, I pull her back to me. “Don’t you dare.”
She exhales another laugh and leans forward to nip my chin. “What time is dinner?”
Releasing her, I return to fastening my pants. “Seven. Can you make it?”
Her bra is restored, and she’s rearranging the top of her dress. It seems a bit stretched now. “Of course! It’s good that I meet your partners, since this is going to be strictly business.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I don’t want you to think my work is compromised because I let you fuck me.”
“Phew,” I exhale, holding her waist and pulling her to me again. “You are something else, Amy Knight.”
“You have no idea.” She gives me a wink and heads to the door. “Shall I meet you back here?”
“Why don’t I pick you up at your place?”
“No.” Shaking her head, she pauses before leaving. “I don’t want Sylvia to get any wrong ideas about us. I’ll meet you at your place.”
I don’t like the connotation there, but I’ll let it pass. “Be there around six-thirty, and we can ride together.”
“See you then.”
With that she’s gone, leaving me to wonder about everything that happened from the moment she walked through my door.
* * *
Amy
Kitty and Paul are chatty and animated all through dinner. Their own children are visiting friends for the night, and it’s just the four of us talking business, law, marketing, and Chicago social politics.
I’ve been distracted by what happened in Marcus’s office all evening. I don’t know why I went to him, and the way he comforted me is troubling.
Kitty calls to them, and I steal a glance as he stands facing Paul at the bar. Dark jeans hug his ass in a deliciously sexy way, and his blue-checked oxford hangs untucked over his waist.