Calder has been working for a consulting firm right here in town, and he’s been doing so well that they promoted him last month. His workload is pretty intense, but he’s happy—as happy and fulfilled as I’ve ever seen him. He told me once that he had a knack for numbers, but it turns out that he has no shortage of love for them, too.
Still, he’s not the sort of guy to spend his free time glued to his phone, especially when we’re, erm, in the middle of things. But he looks concerned.
“Do you want to call your office?” I say. It took a little wrangling for him to get today off, and I don’t want him to get in any trouble. “Maybe something important came up.”
I can see the war waging in his eyes, the responsibility fighting the desire. But I kiss him gently on the cheek.
“Go on.” I climb off of him. “We can continue this in a few minutes.”
He nods, resigned, though I can tell he’s as disappointed as I am.
“When I get back,” he says, leaning toward me and brushing his thumb across my bottom lip, “I expect that revenge you promised.”
I grin. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Calder stands and helps me to my feet, then retreats into the second bedroom to make the call. Curious as I am, I resist the urge to follow and eavesdrop. I trust him to tell me if anything serious is going on. It’s probably just an anxious client.
Besides, this little interruption has given me the perfect opportunity to whip out that new lingerie. We’ve spent nearly every night together for the past few months, but we’re no longer bouncing between his place and my place. I want the first night in our place to be extra special.
It takes me several minutes to find the right suitcase among the piles of stuff all over the floor—especially considering how weak my legs still feel beneath me—but I finally spot the purple battered bag behind the door to the kitchen. It’s right next to the carefully packaged Ludlam painting that Calder and I have passed between us over the course of our relationship. Back at the beginning, after seeing how much I loved the piece, Calder tried to give it to me, but I claimed that I could never accept such a valuable gift from him. I don’t have any excuses anymore. It doesn’t matter who “keeps” the painting. It belongs to both of us now.
But I don’t have time to stand here and reminisce. I flash the crate a final smile and slip behind the kitchen door. I’m halfway undressed already, so it only takes me a minute to tug the rest of my clothes off and pull the lacy, slinky babydoll over my head.
I’m adjusting the straps when I hear Calder return.
“Just a minute!” I say. “I want it to be a surprise.”
Calder laughs. “I leave you alone for two minutes and you’re already up to trouble.”
“You’ll enjoy it. I promise.” I untwist the second strap and then run my hands down the length of the garment, ensuring that the sheer fabric lies flush against my body. It clings to me from my barely concealed breasts to the soft curve of my upper thighs. This lingerie certainly doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
“You ready?” I say finally. I peek out at him, then slowly ease my body from behind the door.
Calder’s eyes widen the moment I step into view, but as they sweep down my body—quickly the first time, then with a lingering appreciation the second—they darken and the lids droop into barely concealed lust.
“What do you think?” I ask, shifting my weight so that the lingerie presses against the round shape of my hip.
He responds with a sound very much like a growl.
“Definitely worth the wait,” he says. Then in three strides he’s across the room, grabbing me, crushing his mouth against mine.
I wrap myself around him, inviting him in. His lips blaze across my cheeks, my jaw, my neck.
“You… look… breathtaking…” he murmurs against my throat.
I tilt my head and flick my tongue across his ear. “They’re not making you go in to work, are they?”
“No. No one at the office has any idea who might have called me.” He pauses to suck at the hollow right above my collarbone. “It was probably just a sales call.”
I inhale sharply as Calder’s hand creeps from my lower back across my ass. Before I’m even aware we’ve moved, he’s backed me against the wall, his body hovering over mine.
“Even if they had called me in,” he says, his voice low and rough, “there’s no way I could have torn myself away from you. Not after seeing you in this.” He grabs the bottom edge of the lingerie between two fingers and slides it up over my hip. “There’s only one thing I plan on doing tonight, and that’s fucking you senseless.”
He presses his knee between my legs, forcing me to part them, and I willingly submit. My hands fly to the front of his pants, and in three seconds they’re undone and I have his hard length in my hand.
Calder groans as I rub him, but neither of us has the patience for any more foreplay. I guide him between my legs, then throw my arms around his neck as he lifts then lowers me slowly onto his cock. I curl my fingers in his hair as he fills me. His breath is ragged against my ear, his hands blazing hot against my thighs.
When he begins to move, it’s not with careful, measured strokes. We’re past the point of restraint. Instead, he drives into me again and again until the world is spinning around me. My head slams into the wall with every thrust and the lingerie bunches and chafes around my waist, but I don’t care. There’s only Calder wrapped around me and the pleasure building between my legs. The rest doesn’t matter.
The muscles are tightening inside of me, and I twist my grip on Calder’s hair. He moans, but if I’m causing him any pain he doesn’t complain. If anything, my desperate clutching only seems to spur him on, and he moves against me with greater force. I gasp and cling to him, until finally my body can’t take any more and the pleasure explodes through me. I throw my head back against the wall as I hurtle over the edge, and my orgasm seems to bring Calder very quickly to his own. He grunts and thrusts into me once, twice, three more times—and then I feel a rush of warmth as he fills me.
Afterward, we lean against the wall for some time before either of us manages to speak.
“I think,” Calder murmurs, “we might have to apologize to all of our new neighbors.”
“What?” It takes my sex-addled brain a minute to grasp his meaning. “Oh. Oh.”