Now if she could only figure out how to hold on to that feeling.
FIFTY-FOUR
Derek watchedReese sprawled across the bed, shoes kicked off, her dinner spread out in front of her across the bedspread. After finding out there were no chicken wings on the menu, Reese had ordered crayfish, after determining from the room service employee that crayfish was really lobster.
As he ate his own orange roughy, going over his daily food allowance from the Bureau by about fifty percent, he said, “That cost almost fifty bucks. How the hell can you afford that?”
She licked her fingers. “Well, I really can’t. Delco would pay for it if I submitted an expense report, but you know that makes me feel guilty. Like spending someone else’s money, you know? Since Delco has basically stolen from people. So I’m just using my credit card.”
He was a little worried about her financial circumstances, but there was nothing less romantic than asking a woman what was in her bank account. Well, actually, he could think of a lot less romantic things, but that wasn’t the point.
“Yeah, me too.” He wasn’t worried about his own credit card bill. Since his divorce, he hadn’t spent a lot of money and he was doing alright.
“How many times am I going to get to eat lobster in Auckland, New Zealand, you know?”
“I’m guessing this is the one and only for me.”
“Me, too. I’m pretty much broke. If I can’t get a job from this story, I might be forced to live with my dad or something.” She shuddered, showing her feelings on giving up her apartment.
Now was his chance. He should say something about her moving back in with him. Dropping his fork, he wiped his mouth on the napkin and chewed quickly. He went over to the bed, perching next to her awkwardly. Christ, he wasn’t any good at blabbering out his feelings.
Reese looked at him suspiciously. “Don’t even think about taking a bite of my lobster. You have your own food.”
“I don’t want your food. I just want to…look at you.” Oh, now that was poetic. Derek mentally kicked himself in the ass Reese liked to grab so much.
Her eyebrow went up. “Should I do something? Make faces? Sing? Blow bubbles in my wine?”
Knowing he probably looked like a stalker, wild-eyed and weird, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her hair and sliding a hand across it. “Don’t be a smart-ass. I just think you’re beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
Reese was on her stomach, stretched out, arms propped up with her elbows. She slipped her fingers into her mouth again, licking off stray butter with long flicks of her wet tongue. Derek felt his cock harden, and he dropped his fingers down a little, across her graceful neck, to her back where the zipper of her dress was waiting for him.
“Oh, no. I know that look. But I’m still eating. You’ll have to wait.”
Not a chance. He bent forward and kissed the bare spot of her back, right above the neck of her dress, inhaling her light scent. “Is that payback for in the stairwell when I put you off?”
“It’s because I’m still hungry, but now that you mention it, that’s a good reason, too.”
“Just keep eating.” She was fine the way she was. He just wanted to touch her. Moving lower, he dug into the muscles of her lower back, massaging with upward strokes.
Reese made a little groaning sound, her mouth wrapped around a forkful of lobster.
“Lobster and a massage at the same time. I just might have an orgasm.”
“If that’s what you want.” Still kneading the small of her back, he ran his hand along the firmness of her curved behind, massaging while his thumb darted closer and closer to her center.
The fork fell on the bed and Reese’s head rolled forward. He moved both hands onto her ass, swallowing hard as he covered her, splaying across her completely with his palms, pressing gently. At the rounded under curve of each cheek, he slid a finger along, going between her thighs, pulling the shimmery fabric of her dress taut, brushing against her mound from the back through the layers of clothing.
He felt no urgency, no rush to get her clothes off, no immediate need to bury himself in her. He wanted to savor her, the touch, the smell, the taste. Moving down to her thighs, he continued to massage, leaning forward and running his tongue down her back until he reached her zipper. Taking it in his teeth, he pulled, resting his hands on her waist, while Reese sucked in her breath.
The zipper stopped right above the curve of her behind, disappointing him. He wanted to dip his tongue down between her cheeks and make her squirm. Instead, he concentrated oneasing her dress off her shoulders, down to her elbows, baring her back to him. He undid her bra, and made long deep strokes across her smooth skin with his hands, wishing they weren’t so rough and scratchy.
Then he remembered the scented lotion Reese always carried around with her. Her purse was lying on the desk and he stood up, adjusting his cock inside the khaki pants Reese had made fun of. She might hate the pants, but it hadn’t stopped her from wanting him in a stairwell.
Reese whimpered, falling forward onto the bed, her face inches from the tray with her dinner on it. “That was cruel.”
“I’m coming back.”