Page 89 of A Step You Shouldn't Take

“Samba. Man, the costumes are impressive. Big feathers and sequins.”

“Really? I won’t wait up, then.”

She snatched the coffee off the counter, and she would have marched out of the kitchen if I hadn’t snaked an arm around her waist.

“Kim, wait.”

“Let go of me!”

“I was just joking.”

“Joking?”

“About the dancers.”

“Why would you do that? It’s not funny.”

“Because…” Oh, fuck it. I plucked her out of her stupid pink shoes and kissed her. Hard. What was the worst that could happen? She’d slap me then kick me out of the house.

Perhaps this wasn’t such a… Except she was kissing me back, all soft lips and breathy sighs and strawberry-flavoured lip gloss. I sat her on the counter, and she wrapped her arms and legs around me, fingernails scraping on my bare back.

That dainty little tongue flicked out and tangled with mine, and my cock began to harden. This wasn’t Kimberly the demure wedding planner with an obsession for order. This was one-night-stand Kim, hungry and wanton.

And late.

I was well on my way to getting lost in her when she pulled back and groaned softly. Checked her watch. Laid her forehead against mine.

“I have to get to work. I wish I didn’t, but I have a meeting with a venue manager, and if I skip it, the couple might lose the booking, and—”

“Shh.” I pressed a finger against her lips. “I know you have to work, and we’ll continue this later, okay?”

Now I got a smile. Not the nervous, flickery smile. Not the tight, professional smile. Not even the friendly-yet-guarded smile I’d been growing accustomed to. No, this was a full-beam, carefree grin. Happy. This was the first time I’d seen Kim truly happy.

“You’re really not going to watch a dance rehearsal?”

“I’m going to his gym. I’ll be hanging out in a locker room with a bunch of sweaty men, and you’d better believe I’ll be leaving that place as soon as possible.”

“Shall I order dinner? Pizza?”

“If that’s what you want. I’m easy.”

“I hope so.”

My turn to groan. “Are you sure you can’t shift that meeting? My hands are itching to tear you out of that dress.”

“I can’t. Not now. Later.”

“What’s with the Morticia Addams look?”

“I’m going wine tasting with Maria and Annie this afternoon. Last time, I spilled Merlot on my skirt and the stain wouldn’t come out, so I thought I’d take precautions. Oh, dammit.”

“What?”

“Annie’s coming over to watch a movie later. We haven’t had a girls’ night in ages, and she never stays late, but I could cancel?”

“You have your girls’ night. Just save me some pizza, and don’t expect much sleep afterwards.”

“No sleep. Okay. Reed?”

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