“Now I’m alone.” His tone morphed from business to sultry as the darkness too changed: his earlier visible concern swirled with desire. “What did you plan to do with me… alone?”
Warm bourbon-scented breath bathed her cheeks and mixed with the aroma of cologne as heat radiated from his chest. Parts of her body—ones which moments ago had been ready to sleep—were now suddenly awake and begging for attention.
With a giggle, she replied, “Nothing. I just wanted my Kindle.”
Lifting her to his desk, Tony eased himself forward, spreading her legs and pulling her waist toward him. “Nothing?” he asked, as he eased her robe from her shoulder.
“Tony, we have a nice bed upstairs.”
“You know,” he spoke in bursts, kissing her neck as his fingers traced her collarbone. “I hate it when you make references… references to the past… I hope you know… how sorry I am… that you have those memories.”
“It happened. I won’t deny it.”
“Hell no…” His volume increased and he stood straighter. Claire wondered how much bourbon he’d drunk. Tony continued his tone deeper. “It wouldn’t do any good to deny it now. The whole damn world knows it.”
While the world’s knowledge was her fault, Claire refused to apologize. My Life as It Didn’t Appear was a bestseller. Though she’d tried to stop its publication, she failed. Therefore, it just was. While Claire contemplated her response, Tony’s fingers entwined with her loose hair. Tugging, he tipped her lips upward. With his mouth a mere whisper from hers, he said, “I hate it, but at the same time, your reference brought back memories.” His head cocked to the side, and his brown eyes opened wide. “Those memories aren’t all bad… for me at least.”
Claire smiled. “No, Tony, they aren’t all bad for me, either. If they were, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“So…” Sultriness filled his tone as he continued to caress. “…it’s been a while since we’ve had that kind of fun in the office.” Peaking a brow, he added, “I seem to remember a few things.”
Unable to shake her head, with his grip on her hair, Claire pursed her lips. “You, Mr. Rawlings, are incorrigible. Didn’t you just help me with that bath before dinner?”
Again, his lips found her neck, sending goose bumps up and down her arms and legs. “That was me. However, as I recall, I wasn’t your first choice.”
When his grip upon her hair loosened she reached for his, running her fingers through his salt and pepper mane. “You, sir, are always my first choice.” Kissing his neck and hearing the familiar growl, Claire knew her plans to read would never transpire. Within seconds, her husband seized her lips, swallowing the moans she didn’t realize she was producing as their tongues intertwined. Finally, pulling back, she said, “But… I didn’t lock that door.”
Easing her legs farther apart, Tony lifted Claire’s nightgown and pulled her hips toward his. “My dear, everyone else has gone to bed.”
Claire couldn’t think of any other arguments. She wasn’t trying. Honestly, she couldn’t think of anything besides her husband and what he was doing, how he was twisting her body and mind merely with his words and tone. Though this hadn’t been her plan, she consented. It had been a long time since they’d allowed themselves to do anything outside of the security of their bedroom. Being home did have its advantages. As Tony’s large fingers roamed, Claire cared less and less about anyone else in the house. “Tony?” she managed, though forming words was becoming increasingly difficult.
“Hmm?” he asked, easing her panties down her legs with his gaze lingering on what he was unveiling.
Seeing him unbuckle his belt, her question no longer seemed important. “Let me help you,” she offered. Not waiting for permission, she reached for his shirt and began to unfasten the buttons. His grin was enough reassurance as she continued to remove his shirt while he freed himself from the confines of his slacks.
Still sitting on his desk, with her nightgown bunched around her waist, and her robe forgotten, Claire ran her fingers through the softness of his chest hair. Leaning back, she unconsciously bit her bottom lip as she admired her view. Scanning her husband from head to toe, she took in his toned abs, which, even with age were still defined. As she peered lower, her eyes followed a trail of dark hair that led the way to his impressive erection. Rarely was she the one clothed, and he not. Moving her gaze back upward, their eyes met, and her cheeks flushed.
“Are you enjoying the view, Mrs. Rawlings?”
Freeing her lip, she grinned. “I am. Thank you for asking.”
Stroking himself, he asked, “Perhaps you’d rather go upstairs?”
She shook her head. Watching his hands, she suddenly thought about how much she wanted to be doing what he was doing. “No, this feels a little scandalous… I think I like it.”
“Oh, scandalous is the way I like you.”
Kneeling before the desk, Tony reached for her legs and placed one on each of his shoulders. Planting a kiss on the inside of her leg, he slowly moved upward. His dark eyes peered up. “I like my view too.”
Moments later, Claire’s moans filled the office as his tongue and fingers consumed her thoughts. Lying back on the desk and closing her eyes, memories of similar scenarios filled Claire’s mind. In time, their bodies became one, the good memories overpowered the bad, and for the second time in one day, she accepted all her husband had to offer and more. In the aftermath, as they walked hand in hand toward their suite, Claire squeezed his and whispered, “Those memories… they’re not all bad, not at all.”