Weekend Wife (Sassy in the City 1)

“Don’t let that stop you.” Leah’s arm shot up behind her and she fumbled around. When I was about to ask what the hell she was doing and tell her hell yes, not having a condom was definitely going to stop me, she pulled her hand back out from under her pillow.

She waved a condom at me.

Oh, fuck, it was akin to a matador waving a red blanket. I paused with my finger inside her, not wanting her to come if I was being given another opportunity to do more. “You keep condoms under your pillow? I’m damn impressed and grateful as hell.”

“It’s a small room,” she said. “Storage is at a premium. Besides, it’s convenient.”

I took the packet from her. “You’re the wisest woman in the world.”

She laughed. “Calm down.”

“No.” I did what I needed to do to switch the condoms and I cupped her cheek as I tasted her lips. “I can’t calm down when your naked body is inches from mine.”

It shouldn’t have surprised me that Grant was intense in bed. I only had to think about the way he ate his pancakes to realize that the same single-minded determination would apply to sex as well. He made eye contact consistently. He watched me, and adjusted his strokes based on my reaction.

He had pulled my left leg up, holding it against his chest, so that this time when he thrust into me, it was even deeper than before. I didn’t think I could get any more turned on, but yep. He proved me wrong.

It was ridiculously stuffy in my room but I didn’t even care. It felt right to be in a confined space, warm skin on warm skin, nowhere to spread out, the ceiling low. It made it intimate, sensual, especially since it was midday. There was no sense of light or time in my small room. There was nothing else but these few stolen moments of mutual pleasure.

My orgasm took me by surprise. It just slammed into me when Grant hit just the right angle and I cried out, hands splayed across his muscular chest. “Yes, that’s so good.”

He squeezed my ankle convulsively

, his expression fierce as he followed me with his own explosion. “Damn,” he breathed.

Grant sat back and put his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. “That was hot as hell. Leah, you’re the best waitress I’ve ever had.”

That made me laugh. “I try to be accommodating.”

“I’ve been accommodated to within an inch of my life.” Grant rubbed the back of his head, which gave me a view to die for.

He was all glistening muscles and manly beard. Strong thighs and ripped biceps. He didn’t have any tattoos that I could see, but that didn’t surprise me. He was very Wall Street, despite the beard. It seemed to be his only nod to being under thirty-five.

“What?” he asked, eyebrows rising.

I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m just checking you out. You wear naked well, Grant.”

“So do you.” Grant stretched his arms over his head and swung his legs around. “I need to see what time it is. I have a meeting I can’t miss.”

I couldn’t even blame the lack of hang-out space in the apartment. Even if I had a full living room and a kitchen crammed with snacks, Grant didn’t seem like the settle-in-for-the-day type. Which was totally fine. I wasn’t even sure I’d want to have him linger. It had been perfect, just the way it was, and I didn’t want to risk tainting that in any way. I didn’t want expectations of any kind.

“I understand. You can take a shower if you want.” He would look like King Kong in a Tardis doing it, given the small scale of our shower, but he might enjoy some cold water.

“Thanks, I appreciate it, but I’m going to run home for a new shirt so I can jump in the shower there.” Grant had jumped down and was scooping up his clothes and tossing them on the bed so he could get dressed. He gave me a grin. “I seem to be missing a button.”

I suspected that button was somewhere under my bed lost in a pile of dust. “Sorry about that. But not really,” I said.

“You don’t sound at all sorry. But I forgive you.” He gave me a dirty smile. “Because I’m not sorry either.” He pulled on his pants and shoved his arms in his sleeves.

I tried to remember if I’d ever been with a guy who wore a suit before sex and I didn’t think I had. Prom didn’t count because that had been a rental tux and my high school boyfriend, Dante, had been very uncomfortable in anything other than a basketball uniform. He hadn’t removed his jacket with smooth moves. More like a giraffe trying to shake off a blanket.

Grant looked like he’d been an infant in a blazer. He’d probably learned to do his own tie by the first grade.

“Can I get you anything before I leave?” Grant asked, leaning against my bed as he buttoned up his shirt. “I don’t want you walking around too much on that ankle.”

“No, I’m good.” I felt lazy and content and I had no intention of moving anytime soon. “I’m going to lay in bed naked and watch YouTube videos.”

He made a growling sound in the back of his throat. “Don’t say things like that. And don’t look at me like that. Like I said, I have an appointment this afternoon I can’t miss.”