A Very Deep Cleaning
by INtrinSicliValud
Copyright© 2026 by INtrinSicliValud
Erotica Sex Story: Beautiful, twenty-years married, and fortified with a bit too much wine at the neighborhood Halloween party, Kiara accepts her husband’s dare. In the sexiest maid costume, she finds herself in the looming shadow of a mountain of muscles half her age wearing nothing but a loincloth. What will she do? How will the sparkly-eyed caveman named Dan respond?
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Sharing Oral Sex .
“I’m pretty cheap,” Kiara said, once more scanning the wall of swarthy muscle before her.
“Really?”
The younger man’s deep voice rattled her ribs despite the thumping music and the noisy crowd at the neighborhood Halloween party. Grown-ups only. The kids were at her mother’s house across town.
By that late at night, most attendees were drunk, and the dance floor was full of folks trying their best. A good number of the more amorous couples had spilled into the community center’s sprawling garden. Others occupied couches and chairs along the walls, with hands under costumes, or what remained of them. Yep, another year had threatened to send them home early, but this time...
No idea how she’d gathered the courage. Pure beefcake, the man towering before her was at best half her age. The slender mask she wore helped, plus whoever had spiked the fruit punch sloshing in the latest glass as her hand trembled.
A nervous glance toward the open patio doors showed Gerald still watching. Mr. “I Dare You,” her husband, was in a black tux, top hat, vest, ruffled-shirt and all.
His first dare had led to the sexy French maid costume of glossy black satin. Trimmed with wispy, white frills, the low-cut bustier did more to enhance than cover a weighty chest. A tight corset - thank God for a narrow waist. The skirt of puffed ruffles over a cloud of snowy lace was short enough to bare most of the white thigh-highs gracing her legs. Kiara’s wild mane had been gathered beneath a tiny round cap of gauzy whiteness.
The second dare: approaching the owner of the well-built frame with zero body fat, clad in only a loincloth of thin tan rawhide fringed with gray animal fur. Barbarian or caveman? Made no difference; the effect left little to her imagination. A powerful, yet not overwhelming aftershave, hinting at spices and leather and dark woods and wildness, slithered into her nostrils.
“Yes, really,” she murmured, answering his question at last while struggling to bring the liquid courage to her mouth.
He laughed. That also made her chest wobble. “You do, um, deep cleaning?”
“D-deep?”
The hunk was holding a tumbler. It met full lips as his eyes twinkled at her. A thick eyebrow arched above a glossy black mask. Unadorned, it highlighted the most gorgeous vivid blue pools that seemed to dance.
With heat meandering through her, she nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
“I’m a messy guy.”
“You are?”
“Yeah.”
From his height, the barbarian had a clear view into the straining top of the tiny outfit and was not at all shy about inspecting the snowy white gauziness stark against a much darker complexion. That annoying surge of self-consciousness erupted: boobs had always been far too large for her frame. Their heft required bras that cost a small fortune, and the costume’s underwire, digging into her skin, was a reminder. Then again, he kept flashing a million-dollar smile whenever she caught his glances.
“Dust?”
At his question, she tilted her head.
“Do you dust?”
“Oh, yes.” She cleared her throat, or tried. “I, erm, can dust.”
“Got a nice duster?”
She glanced at her empty hand. The little plastic handle holding flimsy feathers was still on the table by the front door. Running late, she’d forgotten the prop.
Except he wasn’t looking at her hand. His gaze had dropped below the rib-crushing band around her waist to survey the poofy black ruffles. When those gorgeous eyes found her once more, another gust of heat surged. Sweat prickled to life on her forehead.
“Uh, yes,” she mumbled. “It’s ... It’s, um, nice.”
He guffawed. The sharpness of the sound made her jolt, but she couldn’t help grinning even as both cheeks bloomed with more flames. What is she doing? Those glasses of courage started to fade. This is so stupid. Why did she ever...
The caveman took a drink, and she risked a quick peek at distant Gerald. Her husband’s lanky figure was still leaning against a doorframe. His face was unreadable, offering no help. With the top hat tilted backward at a jaunty angle, he held another glass to his mouth. How much had the crazy man drunk?
“—polish?”
“Um, sorry, what?” she asked, drawn back to those sparkling azure jewels. “Oh, yes, I also polish things.”
“With your duster?”
“Huh?”
“If I had something that needed a really good polishing, would you—”
“Y-yes, I’d use, uh, my ... duster.”
Those stunning eyes lowered to again scan the ruffles. So much heat flared, and both knees wobbled. She struggled to down a messy sip. Once his gaze rose, the hunk’s smile grew taut.
“Not sure it’d work,” he proclaimed, before taking a long drink.
“Why?”
“What needs polishing is pretty damn big.”
Legs full-on shaking and neck straining, she tried to resist a peek, but failed. The quick glance showed a good-sized bulge throbbing beneath the thin flap of leather. Jesus, his stomach muscles are ... perfect. After a slow breath to calm herself and halt the room’s sudden whirling, she met his eyes once more. No longer sparkling, they’d gained a depth and intensity that made her core flutter.
“There’s nude maids, you know,” he said.
“N-nude ones?”
“Yep.”
Heart racing, she did it again, flicking her gaze to Gerald. This time, the young man noticed, and his massive, square-jawed head tilted. Those blue eyes flicked to the ring on her finger.
“Oh,” left him.
The single syllable was like a sodden blanket slapped over a roaring fire, and her face fell. Her shoulders drooped, and a sudden ache in her chest made the world stagger.
“Sorry,” she muttered.
“Nah.” With her new posture, he took advantage of the nicer view into the costume’s risqué top. His smile became even more radiant. “All in good fun, right?”
He chuckled, and again her ribs shook. After a curt nod, he spun and walked away.
A void. Abandoned. Never before, at least not in recent years, had she suffered such ... emptiness.
As if gripped in steel claws of ice, her chest compressed. Every limb quivered; her legs ... jelly. The glossy high-heeled pumps were dangerous on a good day, and splayed fingers slapped onto the back of a nearby chair to steady herself. Although his absence shouldn’t tug at her core—he’d been correct, only a bit of fun—the gleaming mountain of muscle, weaving away through the crowd, did just that.
“Maybe it’s a black thing?”
Gerald’s sudden voice beside her made the room flinch. When his hand slid onto her arm, she couldn’t stop the trembling. The tender kiss on her heated cheek was of no use either.
“What? Um, no, don’t think so,” she replied, still tracking the muscled giant’s ceaseless march.
“Wow, Kiki.” Her husband’s laugh was mild; didn’t rattle her chest. “Never seen you like this before.”
Because she’d never been like that before. The sudden revelation made her heart thump, and the room spiraled as if in a funhouse. Pulse racing, she shifted her attention to Gerald. His face, pale and always on the verge of sunburn, appeared even more pallid. Narrowed eyes, also enticing, but not that dazzling blue. The hazel pools seemed ... duller. God, what’s happening?
“Time to leave, babe?” he asked.
As she inspected him, the question tumbled for a million years. The answer should be clear. Far too much punch was in her bloodstream ... and in his. Neither of them was thinking straight. The stupid dare was proof enough. Yet, why had her husband ... What can she ... Her teeth clenched, and a fire sputtered in her belly. How could the hunk have ... What might she...
“No,” she answered before pulling from his gentle grip. “You dared me, right?”
A quiet “yes” followed her as she slipped into the crowd. As before, other appraising glances noticed her costume, but he still had that broad-shouldered back, gleaming with so many muscles, to her. Gaze locked on him, she stopped to grab a fresh cup of fruit-flavored courage from a black metal bowl etched with white ghosts and green goblins.
As her voyage continued, a litany of excuses swirled within her skull. She was a mother, married twenty years. The only time she’d been with another man since, had also been at Gerald’s prodding. Before kids. An adult cinema just off the highway, and that’d been great fun, if only resulting in an energetic second base. Afterward, like newlyweds once again, she and Gerald hadn’t left the parking lot until they’d ... well, done what newlyweds do.
When she caught up to the caveman, he was at the bar, with a massive arm resting on the glossy wooden surface. The bartender, a sleek blonde, much closer to his age and in a very skimpy, crimson demon costume, was giving him the eye. To his credit, when Kiara appeared as he received a fresh drink from the girl’s slender fingers, his focus locked on the suddenly weak-kneed French maid.
And what a look! Every nerve tingled. More of a deep, soul-scrubbing inspection. Truth be told, one she deserved. Not a single good reason had guided her to him.
“You again,” he said before taking a sip.
The languid motion of a corded neck as he swallowed became her world. Strange; sounds disappeared but for the gulp followed by the smack of his lips.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Um, Lexi.”
The alias had shot from the corners of her brain. It was sorta like the car brand, but seemed ... sexier.
His lashes flickered in that mask; he knew she was lying, but a quiet chuckle left him. After a measured nod, the hunky barbarian gave every inch of her the slowest, most tantalizing survey. At its start, quivers arrived, but by the time his focus returned to a face suffering flares of heat, she was full-on shaking.
“Well, Lexi. Uh, married Lexi.” Again, he laughed, getting her ribs to loosen. “Say you did come over to my place to, um, clean, then what?”
“Th-then what?”
Pulse roaring, she tore her gaze from him to find the silhouette of her husband. With the top hat at an even more precarious angle, he was hovering where she’d left him. A heavy sigh returned her blur-fringed focus to the towering young man.
“See, that’s the issue,” he said.
“What is?”
“A gorgeous woman like you. Not gonna lie, pretty sure I’d enjoy ... Um, well, getting to know you better.”
As he took another sip, his gaze dropped for a peek at her chest. God, she was back in high school before they’d grown too damn big, except the heavy globes rose to meet the swift survey. That reaction wasn’t one of a nervous teen, and the shakes intensified. His eyes sparkled brighter as they met hers.
“But married ones are problematic,” he added.
“Oh, you’ve—”
“Yeah.” Thick brow knitted, he nodded. “Once or twice.”
“Maybe...”
Her brain ran out of words as his hand rose. Large fingers landed on her arm; rough, strong, yet warm on the skin. The thumping in her chest became the rumbling drums of the most primal tribe hurling themselves around sky-licking campfires. Every inch came alive with a mystical heat.
“Hmm, that’s cute,” he said.
“Um, what is?”
“The way your lips shake.”
That simple statement, plus the smile, then his fingers roaming a little higher, pulled the tiniest whimper from her. His brow arched.
“Pr-problematic?” she murmured.
“Yep.” He glanced past her toward Gerald. “He wanna watch? Also get himself a good dusting? Perhaps even wants...” Another gruff, rib-rumbling chortle filled the suddenly tiny space as the hand left, leaving a patch of heat on her arm. At his firm grasp of her waist, the room whirled, and she swayed. “I’d only be interested in you ... Lexi.”
Several seconds passed before his words could hack through the surging madness. Make no mistake, this was insanity, far more than any simple dare. Even then, a few more seconds ticked before understanding gathered and flung a reply toward her mouth.
“Oh, um, no. He’s not—”
“Seems you need to have a talk.”
“T-talk?”
“Yeah, you come to my place and dust, do some polishing, and I’m gonna have expectations.”
“Expectations?”
“Mm-hmm.”
For a while, no more words left him. Instead, his gaze pinned her as the caveman took several healthy swigs. Again, the swallowing motions made her tingle in places that didn’t have a habit of tingling. The sparkles zipping from those gorgeous pools said he was well aware of her mesmerization.
“One more question, married Lexi.”
At his voice, though not loud, she flinched. Okay, beyond mesmerizing. Fixated?
“Yes?”
“That duster of yours?”
“Um, what about it?”
His gaze darted to the ruffles, and she tensed, ready to shift her legs. When his eyes raised, they’d gained a playfulness, and he sent her the widest of grins.
“How damp is it?”
“Oh, Lord,” she mumbled.
Although the sexy black lace panties Gerald had selected were soaked, and had been since approaching the handsome tower of muscles, no other words left her. Then again, did she really have to say more?
At the firm squeeze of the fingers she’d forgotten were clasping her waist, she huffed into that magical smile. Even as a mighty pulse of heat blew through her, the hand departed. Once more, he gave her a slow scan, and those flames oozed far deeper.
“Gotta phone somewhere in that tiny costume?”
His laugh was louder, and she couldn’t help but fling him a nervous grin. After a swift nod, she dug into the skirt’s sole pocket to pull it free.
Later that night, safely at home, she lay beside Gerald in their bedroom. On his back and with gaze fixed on the ceiling, he’d been silent since her whispered question. Only ever-shakier sighs left him as she placed soft kisses across a lean chest. Her hand was gentle, giving his penis the slow, twisting strokes he adored. Stiff and hot, the sleek appendage was making quite a mess, leaving her fist tacky.
The continued silence from her husband was deafening. The damn fool had been the one to dare her; she’d done it. Well, not it. Not yet, but the barbarian’s number sat on her phone. His name was Dan. He’d just arrived in town for a new job and lived in the smaller townhomes three streets over from their neighborhood of two-story houses.
At the bar, still ignoring the hungry-eyed blonde, the youthful hunk had imparted his conditions. The first of which was that nothing would happen at the shindig or afterward. Although a profound desire to fling herself at the handsome mountain of muscle had surged to life, her mind accepted his rationale. See if the heat dribbles away in the light of day, when alcohol’s not flowing through bloodstreams. Such rationality had been a surprise.
“Gonna come soon, sweetheart?” she murmured as that first telltale throb wandered through his body.
“Mm-hmm.”
Not even a word. Plus, he usually warned her. With a sigh, she bent lower, taking the swollen, slick bulb into her lips. He wasn’t kidding; within seconds of her gentle slurp, thick saltiness pulsed over a swirling tongue as his groans filled the darkness.
In sync with each languid swallow, her fist pumped, drawing every drop of his seed to warm her belly. At last, she gave his softening rod a deep kiss, then, while smacking her lips, slid upward into the crook of his arm.
Still, he said nothing, and with a heavy breath, she snuggled tighter, draping a leg over his hips and running her nails along skin so much paler than hers. After a heavier sigh, she lay motionless, enjoying the thunder of his heart that hadn’t slowed.
“He doesn’t mind if you’re there,” she whispered, breaking the silence at last.
Dan’s second condition. No cheating. A sexy maid comes over to dust and polish; she tells her husband. When the grinning barbarian had added, “Every single time,” the entire world had gained some serious wobbles.
Now, there’s confidence, then there’s what he’d exuded while adding those three words. Oh, her mind had scrounged several retorts. What if nothing happens? What if he sees the rest of her and ... hates what he finds? Her tits really were too large. Her hips, wider than many. She’d have to shave closer ... down there. God, will he leave the lights on? She snores. Farts if she’s had too much dairy.
None of the inanities had left her shaking lips.
As if sensing the whirlpool, the hunky barbarian had remained quiet, taking those sips that drew her attention to his thick neck. For whatever reason, the man possessed a raw magnetism that tugged at her deepest needs. Yes, needs. Ones that’d never existed, or perhaps she hadn’t admitted they did.
During the muted walk home from the party, as she’d clung to Gerald’s arm, all those thoughts had continued to swirl. Her husband’s visage had been drawn. Although the groaning and the rhythmic waves, courtesy of an amorous couple, slapping the sides of the dark community pool, had caught her attention, his gaze had been unfocused and distant. That’d been before relaying much; just that the “loincloth guy” was interested in ... Still more than a little tipsy, she’d giggled like a schoolgirl before adding, “maid service.”
The sudden squeeze of his hand yanked her back to the gloom-shrouded bedroom as a delicious flare of heat raced. His response to her relaying Dan’s invitation that he could be present? She whimpered while mashing her pelvis tighter to him. The quiet slurping of her wetness always drew his attention, but he remained motionless ... and silent.
“Do you still love me, Kiki?”
Though soft, his words, snapping the lengthy silence, made her jump. Heart thumping, then aching as their meaning cut deep, she lifted her head to inspect his face. Shadowed eyes still on the ceiling, jaw quivering, and visage carved from granite, he was inscrutable.
“What! Why would you ask me that? You’re the one who dared me?”
“Um, I didn’t expect ... How could I have known—”
“Think I knew? The costume was for you. You found it.”
“I know, but—”
“If I never call, it ends right now.” She leaned to place a quick kiss on his lips. “He won’t come looking.”
That had been Dan’s last condition. He wasn’t the type to pine over missed opportunities. Left unspoken was the obvious: more than enough company would seek him out.
“He won’t?” Gerald murmured.
“No.”
Tension filled the shadows, and she dared not move except to trace his lower lip with a fingernail. That’d normally tease out his tongue, but no. Instead, a heavy exhale sent heat across her finger.
“How would you feel about that?” he asked.
“What?”
“If he never ... Um, if you don’t get to—”
“Nuh-uh.” She tapped his chin with her nail. “The ball is in your court, dear.”
When she rose higher and blocked his view, inspecting his eyes, two things happened. First, his grip tightened, sliding her across him. Second, as she settled onto his lean form, hardness dragged beneath her. A rarity, such rapid rejuvenation hadn’t occurred since the halcyon days of their youth.
His mouth surged to press soft lips around a nipple. Her pulse spiked. It was a quick but forceful kiss that drew a full-throated moan from her as the room staggered. Every nerve sizzled. When his head dropped backward onto the pillow, a grin appeared, and his trapped dick throbbed. With a whimper, she slid back and forth, swaddling it with wetness while keeping her gaze locked on him.
“Kinda kinky, right? Like the idea, don’t you?” she whispered as her hand slipped between them to clasp his tacky length.
“Y-yes.” He gulped. “Shouldn’t, but I do.”
His voice morphed into a shaky groan as she straightened, then rose to take him inside. So wet, her pussy had him deep in a flash. Slow bounces pulled more groaning from him, and as wondrous, towering cliffs of ecstasy built higher, her moans grew sharper. When his hands found her waist, she moved quicker, then became a whirlwind, riding him hard. Sweat stung her eyes and trickled down her curves.
Tits flopping, bodies slapping, and bed creaking, their lovemaking sent no words into the darkness. Instead, a cacophonous soundtrack of moaning and groans, then cries, plus the loudest scream she’d launched in years resounded as flaming surges battered her into submission. Thank God, Mom kept the kids for the night.
Sometime during the shriek-shrouded madness, he must’ve spurted because as sweat-slick curves tilted forward to collapse onto him, wetness oozed from her. As one, they sought each other’s mouths. Her tongue dived first, but his played right until his slackened cock flopped free. She had to pull away to giggle; that always tickled.
A long while later, she lay on her side, once again snug to pale ribs. His lips were pressed tight to unruly hair, planting kisses as a shaky hand roamed her curves.
“Call him tomorrow.”
His quiet whisper created ripples along bliss-battered nerves, but she only had the strength to nod. Even that slow and shallow motion made the world spin. With a groan, she hugged him, her long dark lashes closed, and she flicked away into dreamland.
Four endless days dragged before her heels clicked up the steps of a three-story structure. Inside her chest hammered the heart of a rabbit caught in the brilliant glare of a spotlight. The whole world was watching that slow, measured ascent.
Lust-fueled euphoria had filled the intervening nights. With the kids at home, she’d been forced to be quieter, but their lovemaking had been epic. After returning from work one evening, he’d even taken her in the garage. Spun her, then flipped up the house dress and tore aside the cutest pink panties, before slapping her heaving chest onto the still-warm hood of the car.
The cooling engine’s rhythmic ticking, the squeak of the suspension, and her fist-muffled cries had joined his grunting as he’d had his way with her. Afterward, shaky, staggering steps guided by his hand on her waist brought her into the kitchen to find a pair of small faces staring wide-eyed from the distant living room. She’d had to explain to the boys why Mommy’s face was so red.
Ascent complete, she stood on the uppermost landing before a door. The door. The one behind which resided a muscled younger man, the one who’d filled her dreams. Yes, husband while awake, and the loincloth-clad barbarian, or both of them, while slumbering.
Had Gerald asked why she’d kept rolling onto him, or been more than wet when he came to her? No, but every scan of his eyes said he’d understood. Heck, the hard-on-per-night ratio had skyrocketed as well.
A gentle breeze sent the collar of a dark-charcoal herringbone coat against her chin as sunset bathed the world in a fading russet glow. Tremor after tremor was making the glossy black pumps scratch on the concrete. Shiny with fresh red polish, her fingernail moved to the doorbell, but no amount of effort let it touch.
“Really, Kiki? Gonna do this?” she whispered to the sealed portal.
Solid, white, and made of steel, the door offered no response. Her other hand reached into a pocket to clasp her phone. She should call Gerald. Check in at least. Ask him once more if...
That shimmering nail clicked like a gunshot. A whimper tore free of the thick red waxiness on her lips as the button sank. The melodious sound of chimes echoed beyond the gate to ... the future.
Heavy thuds on the floor were followed by the turning of the knob. Her heart rate soared. When Dan’s smile appeared, the universe did another wobble. Its shaking intensified as more of his towering physique came into view. A white silk shirt and dark slacks flowed as he moved, opening the door further.
“Wow, wasn’t sure you’d actually show.”
His voice, followed by a quiet chuckle, yanked her from the inspection. She again found that soul-nibbling smile.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Dunno.” After a quick shrug of those bull-like shoulders, he looked past her.
“No, he didn’t take your offer. Maybe next time.”
“Next time?” His grin widened.
“May I come in?” she said in a voice that should’ve been shaky but wasn’t.
No, she couldn’t fathom the source of the sudden confidence, but his slow nod sealed a silent deal, or at least the first part. He opened the door wider and gestured for her to enter.
As her heels clicked on faux wood flooring, she scanned the compact space. More functional than stylish, plus everything exuded neatness and order. So, no, despite his words, he was not sloppy at all; far from it. Her eyebrows arched.
Beyond a couch and an armchair of tan leather sat a short, chrome coffee table topped with smoky glass. Metal shelves along a wall held rows of books amid a scattering of framed photos and odd-shaped knick-knacks. The place smelled of that familiar aftershave, or cologne. Whatever it was, having also invaded her dreams, the scent screamed “stud.”
The quiet thunk of the door closing made her jump, but his smile found her. She flashed him a shaky grin, then rushed the survey of his home. A small, functional kitchen. A dining room with a simple chandelier above nothing but a stack of boxes in one corner. At the end of a short hall, a doorway, and beyond, in the shadows...
“Can I take your coat?”
His voice at her shoulder made her flinch, and she spun to gaze at him. Twin blue diamonds slurped on her soul.
“Oh, yes,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
With each button parting in nails that seemed to click far too loudly, those eyes grew wider. When she eased the wool apart, air hissed from him, but he said nothing while taking the coat from her shoulders and hanging it on a hook. The most adorable expression spread across his face when she produced the duster.
More cute than useful, its white feathers were soft plastic. The pink-handled toy had come with the costume. At the last minute, before he’d buttoned the cozy herringbone to her neck, Gerald had stuck the prop into the inside pocket.
“Hmm, very nice. Wore that again, huh?” he muttered.
When his gaze dropped to the frilly lace along the daring neckline, her heart thumped faster. The damn underwires had been adjusted and didn’t dig as her chest rose for his inspection. He took his sweet time, and heat began flooding her cheeks, but he flashed her one of those smiles, and the world brightened.
Okay, so they weren’t too big ... at least for him. Yes, still harbored the same foolish concern. That anxiety would never leave her; thanks, Momma.
However, the mix of amusement and hunger in his pretty eyes incited the loveliest ripples. It’d been a long damn time since she’d enjoyed such attention. No, catcalls and leers did not count.
“Why not?” A shaky giggle escaped her as she twirled the duster. “Here to, um, clean, right? Dust and polish, uh, things.”
He chuckled. “Too cute.”
“Think so?”
Though her pulse raced, she swept the feathers along his chest. That magical laughter deepened, becoming a tonic as it shook her ribs. At his gesture, she walked further inside, while he headed for the kitchen.
“Hungry? Thirsty?” he inquired. “Got some pretty decent wine.”
“Not hungry, thanks,” she replied, following the broad-shouldered hunk. “But, um, this maid could use a drink.”
Once a pair of tall, slender goblets sparkled with a deep red vintage, he slid one across a counter of glittery marble toward her. As she raised it, he tapped his to hers. The delicate tinkling was followed by his chuckle.
“What’s so amusing?” she murmured over the rim.
“You. Those beautiful lips are doing it again.”
“Shaking?”
“Yeah.”
“God, I’ve never. I mean, it’s not like me. I, um, don’t do this all the time. In fact, this is—”
“Slow down.”
“Huh?”
“No rush, is all I’m saying.”
He took an unhurried sip, and, as at the party, her gaze flicked to his throat. So, with eyes sending sparkles ever deeper into her, he enjoyed another. Her heart’s thumping, though still thunderous, slowed. Damn, how could such sensual motions calm her?
When he nodded, then headed for the couch, she didn’t hesitate, falling in behind him. As the well-dressed caveman sat, she surveyed the sofa. The tan leather was long enough for her to maintain a respectable distance or...
The single pat of his hand on the cushion nearest him ended such rational thought. In a flash, she was atop chilly suppleness and crossing white-stockinged legs while gazing into those stunning blue eyes over the rim of the wineglass. Yep, that fast.
A silence stretched as he let her watch him swallow, and she took ever-wobblier sips. While a certain awkwardness should’ve made its presence known, it never appeared. All the same excuses bubbled to life, but she smashed each one away.
“You really are gorgeous.”
His soft words startled her, and she gasped, sending ripples across the wine. The glass, clasped as a quivering shield, fogged.
“Thank you.” She smacked waxy lips. “Um, my husband thought—”
“Nuh-uh.” His brow knitted, and he held up a hand. “You’re alone with me right now.”
“Oh, sorry. Okay.”
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