"Like how damn sexy you look when you're wearing your glasses."
She crossed her eyes behind the lenses.
"'Boys don't make passes at girls who wear glasses.'"
"I make passes at all the girls."
"So I've heard."
He drew her closer and kissed her with increasing fervency, parting her pliant lips with his tongue. The buttons on her blouse were no match for his nimble fingers. As her breasts filled his gently reshaping hands, she reached between his thighs and caressed him. Freeing him from his jeans, she put the petals of the rose to prurient use.
"Thank you for my flower," she purred as she delicately twirled the stem.
"I taught you too well," he hissed, sucking in a quick breath at the tickling sensation.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, I don't think we're going to make it upstairs to the bedroom this time."
Leaving his lap, she lay down on the rug and pulled him down on top of her. Moments later they lay panting together amid hopelessly wrinkled clothing, crushed rose petals, and dewy, naked limbs.
Propping himself up on his elbows, he smiled down at her. "Beats writing all to hell, doesn't it?"
Devon took one of his hands, kissed the palm, and laid it against her throbbing left breast. "Feel that? I love you with every beat of my heart, and I don't know what I would do without you in my life."
He gazed down into her eyes, seeing in their green depths the love that mirrored his own. She was intelligent, sensitive, loving, gorgeous, sexy, and hotter than a firecracker in bed. And she freely and generously shared herself with him.
"Damn," he said, sighing with contentment, "no wonder they call me Lucky."
The End