Midnight Snack II

Laura was enjoying her second shower of the night more than the first because she wasn’t taking it alone. No, the man who had just frakked her within an inch of her life was with her in the falling water and steam, and his hands…

Gods.

Those big, strong, unbelievably soft hands were running over her slick skin caressing and washing her while her own mapped the strength in his shoulders and back … and those arms. Those incredible arms.

They weren’t obscenely sculpted monuments to youthful vanity, which would have just been silly on a man his age, but thick and contoured homages to strength and endurance, of a life spent working for a living and not just pushing papers around on a desk.

Laura curled her fingers around them, taking in the strength beneath his skin, the flex of muscles as his fingers stroked her back, involuntarily humming in delight at what she felt.

Richard did not have arms like these, which was why, she realized, he probably liked her on top all the time. Shoving thoughts of him aside, Laura looked up at her soldier cum lover and found him watching her.

His eyes were the most amazing shade of blue, and they were intense. Earlier, when he’d been frakking her senseless, she’d thought she’d melt under the heat and determination she’d seen in his gaze. That unrelenting, focused eye contact had imbued the encounter with an immediacy that had given her one of the most amazing orgasms of her life.

She was still feeling it, and it amazed her that a chance bumping into him in a hallway had led them to this.

They hadn’t talked much, very little in fact. She knew his name and he hers. He knew she wasn’t a natural blonde, but a redhead, but that’s about it. It seemed enough, though, strangely. But there was one thing she did want him to know about her, if he knew nothing else.

“I don’t usually do this,” she said softly.

He smiled a gentle smile, made his own confession, “Me either.”

She could have protested that, a part of her certain he had to have a woman in every port considering how good he was in bed, but she believed him. The way he’d been with her, the things he’d said at one point … no, she believed he was being honest and she was glad to hear that she wasn’t just another notch in the belt because neither of them had given a second’s thought to protection all evening.

Returning his smile, she slid her hands up to his shoulders, then up and into his hair. It was deliciously thick and wavy, darker now that it was wet, and silky smooth between her fingers. It was also a disheveled mess, a look that suited his dark looks.

Earlier in the evening, when she’d first met him, it had been combed so precisely, almost as if it were standing at attention. She’d been surprised and delighted at the softness when she’d first tangled her fingers in it, reminding her of how nice it was to have something to hold onto when a man kissed her … or went down on her.

Now that was something she definitely wouldn’t mind happening again, Laura mused, her eyes fixing on his mouth at the memory of his enthusiasm.

As she looked, he leaned and her eyes fell shut when his mouth touched hers. The kiss was simple but soft. It made her insides flutter.

When he pulled back, she smiled up at him, announced she was going to go fix them something to eat and left him to the water. As she towel-dried her hair then brushed it out, she watched his reflection in the mirror, admiring the ripple of muscle and heavy sway of his sex as he moved.

He wasn’t long, but he was thick, something her pussy happily reminded her of with a deep pulsing at the memory of just how full she’d felt with him inside her. The fact he’d known how to use it had, of course, only made it that much better.

The rest of him… well, he didn’t have the body of an athlete or the jet-setting playboys that were the biggest contingent in the circles she ran in, but he was very much a man. He was rugged and sturdy where the others were smooth and svelte. And where they were trim and lean, promising wiry strength and agility, his build spoke of power, endurance and, oddly enough, comfort.

And he was also bowlegged, she noted, but it suited him, the stance likely a natural enhancer when it came to military bearing. He looked like it would take a force of nature to move him one he planted his feet. That would intimidate the hell out of a lot of people.

Setting aside her brush, and tossing her wet towel in the hamper, she slipped from the lavatory and sought out some clothing, slipping on her pink nightie before heading to the kitchen.

He was dried and wearing his tanks and boxers again by the time she’d finished. She set a plate before him, when he came to stand at the bar and then fetched him a glass of ice water.

His appropriately polite “thank you” made her smile and respond with an equally polite “you’re welcome.” They both laughed at the exchange, which seemed rather silly considering the evening, and she found she rather liked the deep, raspy sound that came from him. What really dazzled her, though, was his smile. It was positively incandescent and lit his dark features in a way that, unconventionally attractive as he was, made him positively beautiful.

Leaning over, Laura kissed him just because she wanted to, and because she knew he would let her. He kissed her back and she found herself wanting him again.

Gods, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so hungry for a man and she had no idea why him and why now. It just was and she was inclined to embrace it without question, as she had everything else with him this evening, for reasons she could not fathom and wasn’t sure she wanted to.

When she pulled back, she met his gaze, searched those luminous blue depths before asking breathily, “Stay the night?”

“Yes.”

His answer was a soft rumble, rife with what she would peg as gratitude. His eyes certainly held the emotion, giving her the impression that her request was incredibly welcome and also somewhat foreign.

She could sort of identify with the latter. Being in an affair, one wasn’t invited to stay the night all that often, if ever, and, well, frankly, Laura had been okay with that. She liked her independence and her space, preferred to keep some things out of her home, which made her bringing Bill here and her invitation something extremely out of the ordinary.

She wasn’t sure why she’d done either, but she had no regrets and something told her she never would.

She just wanted to enjoy this while it lasted, revel in being desired and desiring someone who had demanded nothing of her, who had just let her be herself and accepted without question what she asked of him and what she gave. She wasn’t ready for that to end, which, she supposed, is why she wanted him to stay.

They ate in relative quiet, her question and his answer leaving them in an anticipatory mood of sorts. Laura couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually slept with a man for a few hours, much less an entire night, and she was fairly sure it occurring in her bed was a precedent. Not even Richard had slept in her bed.

Considering that, there was very little anxiety on her part when she and Bill approached the bedroom. It seemed almost natural except for the fact she had no idea what his last name was, or which side of the bed he slept on.

She asked as she shut off the lights in the hall and he cast her an amused look. “My rack’s not that wide,” he replied, making her smile when he added, “Just tell me where you want me.”

At that, her mind, of course, went immediately to the gutter, albeit it a very nice gutter, one full of vivid, delicious details courtesy of very fresh memories.

What she was thinking must have come across in her expression because he was suddenly chuckling, a soft sound, and smirking to beat all. If she’d had a pillow, she’d have thrown it at him. As it was, she stripped off her nightie and tossed that in his face as she passed him and went to the other side of the bed.

As she pulled back the covers and slipped under them, she looked up at him. He was still standing beside the bed, holding her nightie in both hands, watching her with no small amount of wonder, which made her wonder exactly how long it had been since he’d shared a bed with a woman.

She also wondered if he planned to come to bed clothed as he was. She decided to nip that possibility in the bud. She wasn’t really sure why she was sleeping naked with a total stranger, even after the night they’d had, but she’d be damned if she was going to be the only one in the nude.

With an amused hum, she reached for the covers and pulled them down on his side in clear invitation, one she backed up with an order, “Get undressed and get in.”

He obeyed without question, tossing her nightie into the chair by the closet and hurling his tanks and boxers over with it before sliding under the covers and reaching for her and securing her in a bear hug of an embrace. She wasn’t used to that from a lover, had never believed she would be, thinking it would feel stifling or smothering, but it wasn’t, so she settled against him, closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

< Midnight Snack I | Waking I >