She filled her plate with some snacks, so he did the same.
“The company is growing,” he said. “Much faster than I thought. It’s time I put my stamp on it. I don’t think that’s a bad deal.”
“You’re the only one who thought it was back then,” Simon said. “I always thought you were nuts, but hey, good for you. Glad you’re back in town.”
He laughed. “Glad to be back.”
Farrah smirked at those words as if she was saying, “stop being so hard on yourself.”
Or maybe that was what he just needed to do.
Two hours later, Farrah pulled his car into her driveway. He wasn’t drunk, but he’d had three beers in the two and a half hours they were there, to her one glass of wine.
It was great to hang out with his friends again. Even having Farrah as part of it.
Like the good old days, only they legally could drink and not have to hide it.
Though she looked like a sexy goddess, she talked sports and parenting with them all.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever been around a woman who could blend in so well with his friends, his family, and into his entire life.
The minute they were in the house, he had her backed against the wall in the foyer.
“I think you’re feeling a little frisky,” she said, humming her throat. “I worried you might lose the mood bonding with your bros.”
“That was great. But you were doing as much chatting as me.”
“It was fun, but no more talk about it. This is our time. We don’t get enough of it.”
His mouth landed on her neck, his tongue coming out to lick, then trailed a path up to her ear, pulled it between his lips and sucked.
“We don’t so we need to take advantage of it. No time to waste. How steady are you on those heels?”
“Not steady enough on wood floors,” she said, laughing.
He scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder, the hem of her dress brushing across his cheek before he shoved it out of the way.
The couch was as far as he bothered to go. No sense wasting time on extra steps when every part of him was already burning for her. They’d make it to her room later.
He lowered her onto the cushions, then dropped to his knees, his hands wrapping around her ankles. His touch slowly traced upward, his fingers gliding over her calves before he swept the fabric of her dress over his head like a veil, going in for a deep dive.
The room was dim, the shadows clinging, light barely enough to catch the outline of her most private parts. But he didn’t need to see. His body knew where he was going. His hunger knew exactly what it wanted.
He felt silk and wished he could appreciate it more, but the heat radiating off of her body told him everything that he needed to know.
She wanted this just as much as him.
He pushed the material to the side, his mouth attaching on for a taste. Two weeks it’d been since he’d been here, two weeks of dreams, torture and cravings for more.
It was his now and he was going to gorge until he couldn’t take another minute. Or until she couldn’t.
He latched on hard, heard her whimper for more, then slid two fingers in like last time. Get her ready, get her there, make her his.
It didn’t take as much time as he wanted.
Three thrusts, and she was pulsing around him, squirming on the couch and pushing closer.
When he would have continued to build her again, the material of her dress came up and over his head, a fist of it held in her hand.
