Even from the kitchen he could hear her come in, despite the noise of the storm. Or maybe because of it. As she opened the front door the rumble of thunder and the pounding of the rain became so much louder that it was obvious two rooms away. Both dogs immediately abandoned their vigil for falling morsels and raced to meet her.
He stepped out into the dining room , sandwich in hand, just as she forced the door closed against a fresh gust of wind, and greeted her through a mouthful of ham and cheese.
"Hey there!" he managed to croak out before swallowing. "I wasn't expecting you for another couple of hours."
She hung the old golf umbrella from the doorknob, where it could drip relatively harmlessly onto the tiled threshold. Pulling the band from her ponytail, she shook her hair out into a moist, golden fan which hung over her face as she bent to scratch two sets of floppy ears.
"Bob came in early and immediately started to do over everything I'd already done, so I thought it would be a good idea to get out of there before I killed him."
"Yeah, that probably
was
a good idea. Killing your boss could be a real problem. Although with Bob you almost certainly could make a case for justifiable homicide."
Straightening up, she came from the doorway to meet him as he walked into the living room. Abandoned, both animals instantly assumed their most injured expressions.
She crossed her arms over her chest as they came together and leaned into him, resting her head on his chest. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her after quickly perching the once-bitten sandwich on the arm of the sofa. This particular action was noticed and appreciated at once by the room's two other occupants.
"I'm cold, " she softly told his chest. "And I'm all wet."
"I don't care how wet you are," he declared, tightening his grip and adopting his most gallant tone of voice.
She lifted her head and focused a pair of brilliant blue eyes on the pale, myopic, green ones that sheltered behind his glasses.
"You mean you
really
don't care that we're here together and I'm
all wet
?" she smiled slyly.
The implication of the innuendo took almost an entire second to pierce the customary clutter in his conscious mind before understanding finally emerged.
"Oh! Oh, yeah!" he nodded, the smile he'd worn since first catching sight of her now broadening out to the farthest corners of his face.
In return she gave him a smile of her own, one that might have been what they had in mind when they wrote the definition of "sultry."
"Maybe you can think of something else we could do instead of standing here while I shiver and drip?"
"Well," he replied, wrinkling his expanding forehead in mock concentration. "I guess I can come up with something."
Their lips came together. At first it was a soft, gentle tasting, but this lasted less than a minute. Easily they moved from playful nibbling to serious tongue-wrestling. Her hands slid down the front of him to the hem of the old t-shirt he wore and slipped underneath to knead the warm, bare skin of his chest, enjoying the feel of the layers of muscle he persistently denied he had. He stroked her back, lightly drawing his fingertips along her spine until he could slip his hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Gripping both cheeks of her ass through the damp denim, he pulled her in tight. She had no problem feeling the evidence of his growing excitement and sighed appreciatively into his mouth before coming up for some air.
"Is this what you've decided to
come up
with?" she teased, snaking a hand down between them to trace a determined pattern on the outside of his sweats.
"Yep!" he laughed. "Although I can't honestly say it involved any deliberate decision on my part."
"Well," she said, shifting her gaze from his face down to where exploratory stroking had become dedicated groping. "It's certainly an impressive effort for an improvisation."
"Thank-you, kind lady," he bowed his head and then gently took both her hands in his. "We
always aim to please."
She brought his hands up to her lips and planted a featherlike, moist kiss on the back of each one.
"I guess whether or not I'm pleased depends on what you decide to aim at."
The exchange of entendre ended with another kiss that took several moments to conclude. Then, still clasping her hands in both of his, he led her through the crowded maze of furniture to the bedroom. As they passed through the doorway, he stretched out a foot, hooking a corner of the door and closing it behind them.
Past experience had demonstrated clearly that a cold, wet nose inserted at an inappropriate moment could ruin all their best efforts.
He had to release her hands in order to cradle her face in both of his. Tracing the line of her jaw with his thumbs, he placed a string of kisses across her forehead. He stopped, smiling, when he saw that she'd closed her eyes, just as she always did.
"I love you."
She opened her eyes to regard him seriously for a moment, but the customary mischief soon reappeared.
"I certainly hope so, considering what I hope is about to happen here real soon."
"Whatever do you mean?" he feigned. "Didn't we come in here to play
Trivial Pursuit
?"
"Not quite," she responded. "Nothing I intend to pursue is the least bit trivial."
They were both smiling broadly now, enjoying a feeling of synchronization that neither had ever enjoyed with another.
He gathered her tightly into his arms once again, pressing her lips with his for a second before parting his. Her mouth opened, welcoming his tongue as it explored the insides of her lips. Moaning softly, he soon went between her teeth. Echoing him, she opened wider and met his tongue with hers. Their tongues played tag until his darted back into his mouth. She followed it, giving him the opportunity to suck on it gently.
She pulled back at last to take a deep breath and favor him with a
very
direct look.
"Okay, I think clothing just became optional here."
"Definitely."
She was wearing the cardigan her mother had knitted for her when she was in high school. He unbuttoned each of the little pearl buttons with an exaggerated care, occasionally slipping one or two fingers into the folds of the sweater to quickly stroke a patch of bare skin whenever it was revealed. Releasing the last button, he slipped the sweater off her shoulders until it caught at her elbows.