Chapter 20: The Couple on the Couch

We did not make it past the kitchen.

I had barely locked the condo door when Hazel turned around in the dark hall and put her back against it.

"You have a split lip," she said.

"I know."

"I'm going to be careful with it."

"Don't be."

She laughed against my mouth.

I kissed her, and the cut pulled, and I did not care.

She tasted like the mint she'd stolen from the steakhouse bowl.

My hands went to the zipper of the red dress, and it came down under my fingers with a long, slow sound.

The dress fell around her ankles.

She stood in the hall in a black bra and black underwear, barefoot, with the hospital bracelet still on her wrist from the visitor desk.

"Kitchen," she said.

"What?"

"I've been thinking about your kitchen counter for two weeks. It's the right height."

I picked her up and set her on it.

The granite was cold, and she hissed at it, and then she hooked her heels behind my thighs and dragged me in.

I unhooked her bra with one hand.

Her breasts were small and firm, with dark nipples already hard, and I took one in my mouth and sucked until she bit her own knuckle.

"Miles."

"Say it."

"Your mouth is so good."

"Louder."

"Your mouth is so fucking good."

I dragged her underwear off and tossed it somewhere behind me.

She was already soaking.

I slid two fingers into her pussy, and she was so wet that the sound of it filled the dark kitchen.

I worked them in and out and put my thumb on her clit, and her whole body drew tight.

"Not like this," she said, panting. "I want you inside me."

"Not yet."

"Miles."

"You owe me for the bridge," I said, and dropped to my knees.

She pushed both hands into my hair.

I licked her clit, then sucked it, and her thighs clamped around my ears.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck, right there."

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