Outrageously in Love by Jen Morris

17

Michael and Alex are on their way out when I arrive back at the apartment that evening, and I’m relieved to have some time to myself.

Alex, however, is plagued by guilt. “I’m so sorry we have to leave,” she says as I kick my shoes off. “Michael’s agent wanted to have dinner with us, and—”

“It’s fine! Seriously. I hope you guys have a nice time.”

Alex slips her heels on with a grin. “I had an idea, though. Since I’m so swamped with work, I thought I’d ask Luke to take you sightseeing.”

My stomach wobbles. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure he’s busy.”

“He’s off work right now,” Michael says, pulling on his dinner jacket. “He can spare a day to show you around. After all, we’re about to be family.”

Something about those words makes me a little uneasy, but I push the feeling aside. “Are you sure—”

“I just texted him.” Alex grabs her bag and leans in to peck me on the cheek. “He said he’ll take you tomorrow.”

“Great,” I mumble as the door closes behind them. I head into Henry’s room and set my bag down with a frown, processing this. It’s hardly ideal. Not just because I don’t want to play tourist; I also shouldn’t be spending extra time with Luke.

After that conversation at the board game cafe this afternoon, I had to get out of there. The chemistry between us was intense and it freaked me out. It’s getting harder to ignore how attracted I am to him, despite the fact that he’s still technically married and—I seem to keep forgetting—I’m here for Alex. Nothing good can come of pursuing the attraction between us.

But, fuck… I’m so drawn to him. Sure, he’s gorgeous—anyone with eyes can see that—but it’s not just his good looks. He loves all the same things I do, maybe even more than me. I’ve never met a guy who is happy to spend hours playing games, or discuss the merits of different game formats, or compare the book version of my favorite stories to the films. He’s a nerd, through and through, like me. We’re kindred spirits in that way, and I think part of me recognized that on the plane, even before I knew any of that stuff about him. It’s like my soul just knew his, or something.

And not only that—he’s thoughtful, too. He called me when he thought I was upset, he went out of his way to take me to that cafe today, and he’s been so encouraging with my own cafe idea. No one has ever cheered me on like that before and it’s really nice.

I know I’m not the only one feeling this thing between us, not after what he said to me today.Every time I replay his words—I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it—I feel like I’m going to explode.

If I’m going to spend the whole day with him tomorrow, I need to take the lid off this pressure cooker. At least I have the apartment to myself. I wouldn’t normally attempt this; I never feel the urge since it’s always proven to be fruitless. But ever since I met Luke, let’s just say… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. About sex. About him.

My gaze lands on my bag and I reach down, pulling out the John Stamos box. Alex spent good money on this, and I am in a bit of a pickle with the whole Luke situation. May as well do the logical thing here. And I’m not going to lie, I am a little curious what all the fuss is about…

With vibrators, that is. Not John Stamos.

I open the box and pull out the plastic, removing the device from the packaging. Then I hold it up to investigate more closely. I’m sure it’s a gimmick, as Cat said, but what happens when I turn the base around like—

Oh.

The whole thing starts vibrating in my hand, and even though it’s quiet and I’m home alone, I fumble to shut it off, terrified someone can hear.

I glance at the box again, noting the words “Completely Waterproof” on the side, and an idea hits me. At least if I were in the shower, the water would hide the noise of the vibration, should anyone happen to come home, or…

Whatever. It will just make me feel more comfortable.

I change into a robe, tucking the device into the pocket and tiptoeing across the hall. I don’t know why I’m creeping about the place like everyone is home and knows what I’m doing. I need to damn well relax.

Once inside the bathroom, I slide the lock and turn the shower on, then strip off my robe.

Okay. I can do this. I can use a vibrator and give myself an orgasm and calm down about Luke. Simple.

I step under the stream of water, feeling strangely nervous, which is ridiculous. Drawing in a deep breath, I tip my head back and let the water cascade over me, thinking of Luke. I know it’s probably not wise to think of him while I do this, but… come on. What else am I going to think about? He’s the reason I’m in this mess.

I glide my hands down my chest and take my breasts into my hands, finding my nipples hard and waiting. I roll them between my fingers, letting my mind drift back to what Luke said today, about seeing me bent over the kitchen island. I remember the way he looked at me last night, the way his hands were in tight fists at his side, like he was struggling to stay in control. I wonder what would have happened if he’d lost control altogether. Would he have pushed my dress up over my ass? Gripped my hips? Yanked my panties aside and entered me? Heat pulses between my legs at the thought, and I drop my head forward against the shower wall, breathing hard.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I would never normally like the thought of being bent over anything, for Christ’s sake. It just feels so demeaning, not to mention dangerous. I’d have no sense of control in that position—I’d be completely at his mercy. But the thought of being at Luke’s mercy makes me want to do very dangerous things.

I reach for the vibrator and turn it on, leaning forward and bracing one arm against the shower wall, picturing Luke again. Then I lower the device between my legs, touching it to my most sensitive spot, and pleasure zings through me.

Woah. Okay, yeah. There might be something to this.

Closing my eyes, I give in to the fantasy that’s been tempting me all afternoon. Instead of being bent over in the shower, I’m in Luke’s apartment, face-down on the kitchen island. And instead of this inanimate device between my legs, it’s Luke, driving into me relentlessly from behind. He’s got his sexy glasses on, and one of his hands grasps my hip as he leans over to growl filthy things into my ear, his other hand fisting in my hair. He fucks me like he did on the plane—hard and fast, holding nothing back.

God, fucking him on the plane was so hot.

Those images come back to me now, one after the other. The way he asked Do you like that? as his fingers slipped between my thighs. The way he watched himself thrust into me like it was the best thing he’d ever seen. And when I think of the way he said Ohhh fuck when he couldn’t hold back anymore, heat rushes up my legs. I collapse against the tiled wall as sensation crashes through me, my mouth falling open around a silent moan, my body riding the waves of pleasure.

I stay like that for a moment: propped up against the shower wall, catching my breath, waiting as I come down from the high.

Shit, that was… wow.

Straightening up, I turn off the device and set it aside, a surprised smile pushing at my lips. A sense of empowerment settles over me as I wash my tired and satisfied body. I don’t need a man to experience that kind of pleasure. I can do it myself.

Well, with a little help from John Stamos.

I giggle, thinking about it. This whole time I assumed I wasn’t a very sexual person, but I think I’ve just been doing it wrong—because that was freaking awesome. I might be more like Harriet 2.0 than I realized.

And, if I’m lucky, I’ve made it a little more bearable to be around Luke for the time being.