The KISS Principle Part 2

"You do?"

His breaths were becoming ragged and deep. "Yes, it's a total turn-on."

She decided she might as well claim everything there was to take. When am I ever going to have s.e.x with a twenty-something guy again? Allie slowly trailed a finger between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, down her stomach, and zeroed in on her c.l.i.t. She watched as his eyes lit up when she looped her fingers in small circles. "Like this?"

"G.o.d, yes." His thrusts became more forceful and she sensed the tension coiling in him. He glanced down between their bodies, apparently to watch his c.o.c.k ride in and out of her as her fingers did the rest of the job. He adjusted the slant of his hips, hitting her at a very fulfilling angle.

The change sent her barreling for the peak. She doubled the pace of her fingers and tensed her muscles around him, pulling him in again and again.

Cooper began slamming into her hard enough for her head to create heat on the pillow. "Oh Allie," he said, closing his eyes and biting his lip as if he couldn't take it anymore.

Her back arched as the waves tore through her, starting between her legs and making a thundering trip through her chest and limbs.

He pulled her tight and, with a few masterful thrusts, prolonged her climax before he called out. "Oh G.o.d." He pulsed inside her and she squeezed her muscles to give him every last bit of pleasure she could. His head dropped into the crook of her neck and he nearly collapsed on top of her. He rolled to his side, his chest heaving until his breaths grew longer and more even.

Allie curled into him and smoothed her foot over the front of his calf. "Wow," she said. "That was unbelievable."

Cooper felt as if his brain was nothing more than jelly. He couldn't remember an o.r.g.a.s.m like that. He couldn't recall whatever was a distant second. "I'd say that was better than unbelievable." He worked his hand into her now disheveled hair and tenderly kissed her.

Her tongue playfully prodded his. "I'm far less stressed out about work now."

Cooper shook his head. "Work? What's that?"

"Exactly."

He got up and stepped into her spa-like bathroom, with its fluffy white towels and slate tile. He tossed the condom in the trash and washed his hands, a pleasant herby smell from the soap filling the air. Candles surrounded the large soaking tub, the perfect spot for next time. If there is a next time.

He'd been so wrapped up in his desire for Allie that he hadn't thought about things like repercussions. I wanted her and I guess she wanted me. Maybe that's all there is. I guess I could be cool with that. Keep it simple, stupid. Don't a.s.sume she'll want more.

Allie wasn't in bed when he returned, so he s.n.a.t.c.hed his boxer briefs from the floor and traipsed into the kitchen to find her lighting the stove, wearing a short black nightie with lace trim and narrow straps. Stepping up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her tiny torso under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and kissed the top of her head. The nightgown, made from a knit like a t-s.h.i.+rt, was soft against the bare skin of his stomach.

"Are you cooking for me again?" he asked.

She wiggled her hips, pressing her curvy a.s.s into his crotch. "I thought we should make the crepes."

"We're going to be making more than crepes if you keep rubbing against me like that." He slid his hands to her hips and fought the urge to dip them lower and rake the nightgown up and away.

She peered up at him with the back of her head against his chest. Her eyes were as crystal clear as the Caribbean Sea. "Food first. I'm actually hungry."

"You know what? You sit. I'll make the crepes."

"You?" She turned in his arms and held her hand to his forehead. "Are you feeling all right?"

He released his hold and pulled a barstool from the center island. "You sit. I will cook. You just need to tell me what to do."

Allie plopped down on the seat, the hem of her nightgown hiking to the middle of her creamy thighs. "The pan's probably ready." She nodded toward the stove. "Put a pat of b.u.t.ter in the pan and swirl it around until it's melted and bubbly. Then add a ladleful of batter."

"Got it." He did as she instructed but the batter sat in the middle of the pan after he poured it.

"Oh sorry. You have to swirl it in the pan until the batter covers the bottom."

He shook his head. "I'm holding you responsible if this doesn't work."

"Now wait until it looks like it's mostly cooked through and flip it. I just use my fingers."

He reached into the skillet and the searing hot metal singed his hand. "s.h.i.+t." He shook his wrist, pain stinging his fingertips. "How do you do this?"

"Here. Let me help." The metal barstool sc.r.a.ped on the wood floor.

"No, you sit. I can figure it out."

He reached into the pan again and managed to lift the crepe, but it tore and collapsed into the skillet.

Allie took her perch. "You sure?" She watched as Cooper dumped the crepe onto a plate and started again. Even in profile, she could see he was intent on getting it right.

Those few moments of silence set her mind on a course of overthinking. The evening clearly hadn't played out as she'd thought it would. We slept together. He's making dessert in my apartment in his underwear. What in the h.e.l.l am I doing?

He slipped the crepe on to the plate and brought it to her along with the Nutella. "Let's try this one before I go any further."

The expanse of his bare chest was more than she could take and chocolate was no distraction. She didn't want to launch into full-on Mrs. Robinson mode, but she had to touch him so she rubbed the top of her foot along the back of his calf.

He waggled an eyebrow, holding a bite for her on a fork. "Try this."

She leaned closer, using the excuse to brace her hand on his waist, and wrapped her lips around the fork. The creamy chocolate and velvety crepe filled her mouth, but more than anything she loved watching the expectation in his eyes. "Mmm. Great job. You're hired," she said, wiping her bottom lip with her finger.

"Good to know. I'll make more." He returned to the stove and turned the flame back up. "I had no idea you were in the market for a young stud to cook for you in his underwear."

A boulder took residence in Allie's stomach. Oh G.o.d. He does think I'm Mrs. Robinson.

It didn't matter that she couldn't think of a response because Cooper turned to her. "I'm sorry. Did that sound as bad as I think it did?"

It still felt as if someone was holding on to her throat. He'd said that the age thing didn't bother him, but there it was-the elephant in the room. Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile. "No. You're fine. And of course I'm in the market for a guy to cook for me in his underwear. Every woman wants that," she quipped. The floor seemed like a good spot on which to focus while she recovered from the minor sting of the truth.

He laughed quietly and went back to cooking, eventually bringing four more crepes to the center island. Pulling out a second barstool, he sat next to her and they ate from the same plate.

"What are you doing the rest of the weekend?" he asked.

Allie finished her bite of food, feeling even more confused than earlier. Now that they had allowed their friends.h.i.+p to migrate into s.e.x, she had no sense of what he wanted from her beyond one night, if anything. The notion of prodding for his thoughts on the matter seemed ridiculous and annoyingly clingy. "Working mostly. Why?" She wondered what he would ask, whether he'd ask her out for a real first date.

"I need to buy some furniture for my place. I've been putting it off forever. Your apartment is so pulled together. I could use your guidance and taste."

Furniture shopping. That's not a date. It's something you do with your mom. "Um, sure, of course. I have a few places I like to go to. Tomorrow afternoon?"

Chapter Four.

Allie put the finis.h.i.+ng touches on her hair with the curling iron. Loose, chestnut-brown ringlets cascaded around her face and over her shoulders. A mindless activity was exactly what she needed, her brain had been in overdrive since the awkward exchange with Cooper that morning before he'd left to play pickup basketball at the YMCA. He'd said, "See ya. Thanks for everything," when he left in the previous night's clothes. To make it worse, it came with a kiss on the top of her head. She didn't know what to make of that.

A cloud of hairspray formed as she misted her hair before carefully raking through the curls to loosen them. She turned in the mirror. She had to admit, forty looked better than she'd ever imagined.

Her mother had been falling apart at that age, even though she'd been stunning when she was younger. Raising twin daughters had taken its toll. Their dad had always been a neurotic handful, the suspicious type, convinced their mother was lying about something-money or other men most often. In a move that Allie could only rationalize as a preemptive strike, he broke their mother's heart and left when the girls were ten.

Mom's crutch after that was chain smoking. It was also her ultimate end. Not a day went by that she didn't think about her mom, wonder if her dad ever thought about the three of them, even knew that the mother of his children had died. She knew that her twin Andrea was often plagued with the same thoughts, and like Allie, she didn't care to talk about it.

As much as she loved and adored her mother, Allie never wanted to be in the same position. She never wanted a man to have that much influence on her happiness. She'd never gone looking for a husband-if one came along, great. If not, that could be great too.

She'd poured most of her energy into her career, clocking fifteen years at her old ad agency. They were a small operation when she started, a boutique agency, some might say rinky-d.i.n.k. They did amazing work and had satisfied clients, but as things grew, the creativity slid. Now that she had her own company, the years spent in the trenches seemed to finally be paying off. Money was tight and she wasn't yet able to draw a salary, but new clients were coming on board every month. If she just stayed on course without any surprises, she could have some real success to call her own.

There was a knock at her door and she wiggled her feet into a pair of dark-purple wedge pumps. She hurried across the apartment, and her heart stopped for an instant when she answered. He was thumbing the keyboard on his phone. His damp, sandy-brown hair flopped forward. Again, he'd put far more effort into dressing than he normally would. She was used to seeing him in track pants and t-s.h.i.+rts but today he wore a black dress s.h.i.+rt and another pair of jeans with a devastating fit. He looked at her, unleashed his electric smile, and she could do nothing but take a cleansing breath and pray for strength.

"Ready?" he asked.

For what? She'd considered asking him to come in for a minute, somehow lure him into bed, but thought better of it. His physical presence clouded her judgment and her goal for the day, aside from finding him a decent couch, was reaching a conclusion about what he wanted. "Yep," she answered, grabbing her bag and keys.

"You look amazing." He buried his face in her neck for a moment. "And you smell good too."

She smiled and the heat rose in her cheeks as they headed down the stairs. I smell good.

They hopped in a cab for the ride from their apartment building in Bucktown to a furniture store in River North near Allie's office. She wasn't sure if Cooper would want to hold her hand in the car, but it didn't matter. His phone rang the instant the driver pulled away from the curb.

"Yo, Brian. What's up? I'm busy." His brows knitted as he listened to what his brother was saying. "How the f.u.c.k does this happen, Bri?" Glancing at her, he forced a smile. "Yeah, well, he always wants to make things more complicated than they need to be. I swear we're going to have to tattoo K.I.S.S. on his forehead." He cast his eyes down and picked at the dark fabric of his jeans as he continued to listen to what was apparently a lengthy explanation.

Allie fidgeted, trying to focus on the sights and sounds of the city whizzing by. Being the boss was anything but easy. She'd learned that lesson over the last year. Tension hung heavy in the air and seeing the stress take its toll on his handsome face was disheartening.

"Okay. Fine," he said gruffly. "Just figure it out and call me later." Cooper raised his hips to slide the phone into his front pocket as the cab stopped in front of Metro Style Furniture. "Sorry about that."

"Everything okay?" she asked as they climbed out of the car.

He slid his sungla.s.ses from the top of his head back on to his face. "Fine. My brother just needs to get our programmers in line."

The store was sleek, a mix of contemporary design and modern cla.s.sics like leather and chrome Eames office chairs and iconic Saarinen pedestal tables. Allie had to stop from rolling her eyes when Cooper zeroed in on the first black leather sofa they came across.

Plopping down on the cus.h.i.+ons, he stretched his arms along the back and crossed his legs, looking perfectly at home. "Take a test drive with me." He patted the spot next to him in invitation. The instant she sat, he cupped her shoulder with his warm hand. "What do you think? Pretty comfy, huh?" He bounced in his seat.

Allie leaned forward, examining the st.i.tching at the front of the cus.h.i.+ons. "I like it. Great quality, but it's a little plain. And I know guys like black leather, but it can be cold. Maybe something like gray wool would be better. Still masculine, but cozy. You can probably order it in another fabric."

"Yes, you can," a female voice behind them said.

Allie turned to see a striking young woman with s.h.i.+ny ebony hair. Her legs went on for days, her deep-red lips annoyingly pouty. It put Allie on edge even when she hated the idea of feeling in any way threatened by the presence of another woman.

"Is there anything in particular I can help you with?" she asked. "This is a beautiful choice, by the way. The line is Italian designed, but made in the U.S. This particular sofa is an exclusive to our stores." She reached out to shake Cooper's hand as he stood. "I'm Melanie."

"I'm Cooper. This is my neighbor, Allie."

Neighbor. Okay, then. That clarifies a few things. Before she could get up from her seat, Allie's phone rang and her sister's name popped up on the caller ID. "I'm sorry. I have to get this." She answered while making her way to the plate gla.s.s windows at the front of the store. "Andrea. Hey. What's up? I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"I never ask you for favors, right?" Andrea asked with a strange tremor in her voice.

"Not usually. What's up?"

"I kicked Bill out. b.a.s.t.a.r.d was cheating on me. With a guy, Allie. He was f.u.c.king a guy."

Jesus. "When did this happen?"

"About an hour ago. I found some texts on his phone while he was on the treadmill."

"You were reading his texts? Why would you snoop like that?"

"This is no time to get judgmental. I need you over here now. He wants to come back for a few things. I'm worried I might kill him if I see him, but I don't trust him to be alone in the apartment."

Allie exhaled and turned to see Cooper regaling Melanie with some story that was enough to make her laugh and playfully toss back her hair. "Of course, honey. I'm getting in a cab right now."

"Thanks, Al. You're the best."

She dropped her phone into her bag and strode to the back of the store. "Cooper, hey, can I speak to you for a moment?"

He gripped her elbow, concern clouding his face. "Everything okay?"

"That was my sister. She's having major boyfriend issues. She needs me. Now." She hitched her bag up onto her shoulder. "I'm really sorry. Can we do this another time?"

He glanced at Melanie before looking at Allie. "You know, I really think I like that first sofa. Melanie is going to show me some fabrics. I'm sure I can pick something with her help. You think gray is the way to go?"

Allie's shoulders tightened at the mention of Cooper spending quality time with Melanie, not that she could do anything about it. "I do. Just make sure it's a durable fabric." Why does everything out of my mouth make me sound like an old woman?

"Can I see you later tonight?" he muttered.

Her heart beat an anxious rhythm. He wants to see me? He just called me his neighbor in front of another woman. "Maybe. I'll have to call you."

His afternoon with Allie thwarted, at least Cooper had some new furniture on the way. It would be a six to eight week wait and his bank account was more than twelve grand lighter, but he'd finally made the move up from Modern American Dorm Room.

He tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter in his apartment and checked the time on his phone again-nearly five-thirty p.m. The ordering process at the store had taken much longer than he'd expected. Melanie had worked it from all angles, both personal and professional, hinting that she didn't have plans that night and wouldn't mind going out for a drink.

As recently as a week ago, he probably would have been all over Melanie's blatant flirtation, but Allie had been the only thing he could think of now. Everything about her was so much better than he'd ever dreamt-the unbelievable touch of her skin, the sweet scent that emanated from the most enticing parts of her body. That, within the context of their already good friends.h.i.+p, seemed too good to be true.

The mind-blowing s.e.x had been the highlight of their night, but a close second had been the hours they lay talking in bed, in the dark, wrapped around each other. He'd never formed a real friends.h.i.+p with a woman before he slept with her. Doing things that way had never seemed important, but maybe it was the way to go. It certainly had been with Allie.

He stared at his phone again. Don't be a p.u.s.s.y. Just call her.

"Hey," she answered after several rings in a whisper that rushed through him.

"How are you? Is everything okay?"

"I can't talk for long. Andrea is taking a bath. She's trying to relax."