Wine, Tarts & Sex

some all-time ejaculatory record.

They were both panting big time when it was over.

“Fucking a,” he whispered, braced on his elbows, his chest heaving.

“Fucking a,” she whispered back, eyes closed and gasping for air.

That they were both experiencing an epiphany of sorts failed to register in either of their brains. Not unusual under the circumstances with them both mildly unstrung. Their incomprehension aside, the eccentric brain synapses were nevertheless stored away, the file drawer shut and labeled for future reference.

The maxim, Ignorance is bliss, was appropriate to the occasion.

In terms of immediate reality, Jake came to his senses first, probably through force of habit. He wasn’t a practitioner of touchy-feely after-sex conversation-a common enough trait in males. Easing away, he sat on the edge of the bed, stripped off the condom, disposed of it and, turning back, was about to say something polite in the way of farewell.

But surveying Liv’s voluptuous, sprawled pose, her skin flushed rosy pink from some screaming-ass sex with him, he reconsidered, or maybe his libido did. “You don’t have to leave just yet, do you?” he heard himself ask, the voice obviously his, although the remark was so shocking, he looked around hoping someone else might have spoken.

“I’ll stay for a while.” Her gaze shifted to his rising erection. “Let me know when he gets tired or you do. Since I seem to be megahorny tonight”-she made a little grimace-“I’m not capable of sound decision making.”

“Maybe it’s this bed.” Jake gestured at one of the florid nude bedposts. “I’m pretty much in overdrive myself. Although, I did promise you dinner, so”-he shrugged-“it’s your call.”

“Right now I’m thinking ten more orgasms, not dinner.”

He grinned. “Only ten?”

“I didn’t mean to sound so greedy. Whatever you want, of course. You decide.”

“The way I’m feeling, I figure we’ll fuck till I collapse.”

“No wonder all the ladies like you.”

He probably shouldn’t say that all the other ladies never made him feel like he’d taken a fistful of X when he hadn’t. “Uh-uh, it’s you, babe.” No sense in playing games, he thought for the first time in his life.

It was an evening of revelations.

Or with luck, it would be.

He had plans.

Not that Liv didn’t have a few of her own, her feelings as outre as Jake’s.

Seven

But Jake played the gentleman first.

“Let me find some towels,” he said.

“From the looks of this brothel bed,” Liv murmured, stretching lazily, “I’d say look in the bedside table.”

It took him a moment for his brain to assimilate what she’d said, because he was busy thinking she looked like some lush Titian nude when she arched her back like that. Or was it Rubens? Not that it mattered when her boobs were lifted into perfect cushiony roundness like that. And they were real-a novelty for ones that big. Dragging himself back to earth, he said, “You’re probably right. This place screams Mustang Ranch.”

“Have you been there?”

“Uh-uh.” Leaning over, he opened the door on the bedside table. “I know people who have. It seems a waste of time to me. There you go, babe,” he added, grabbing two towels, sitting up, and handing her one. “You called that one right.”

“Chaz isn’t a romantic.”

“No shit. He has a complete drugstore in there. Mouthwash, Altoids, a gross of condoms, and whadda you know- gold-plated handcuffs.” Reaching down, he pulled them out and swung them in her direction.

“If you don’t behave, I might have to use them.”

He gave her a look. “Over my dead body.”

“So you’re not into bondage.”

“Not much.”

“Ever?”

“Is this a quiz?”

She opened her arms wide and smiled. “I’m done. No more questions. You may direct the entertainment.”

His brows rose. “I wouldn’t have typecast you as submissive. ”

“With a dick like yours, I’d be stupid not to be. I’m sure whatever you decide to do will feel mighty fine on my pleasure scale.”

“So I may indulge myself.”

“Us, sweetie,” she said with a smile, figuring she was way past any opportunity to play the shrinking violet.

“Right.” He liked that she didn’t play games, a rarity in his world. Throwing the handcuffs back into the bedside table, he quickly wiped himself off and came to his feet. “Do you need anything? I need a drink of water.” Smoothing back his hair with both hands, he readjusted the binder holding his ponytail in place. “How about you?”

“Me, too-water.”

“There’s plenty of liquor or wine around here- champagne, if you like.”

“I’d mostly like you.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” Had she known that her words had a familiar ring, requests like that frequent years ago when he was in culinary school and waiting tables on the side in upscale restaurants? It had been pretty much a fucking smorgasbord in those days. Between work, school, and keeping the ladies happy, sleep had been scarce.

He had a good feeling that getting to know darling Liv might be deja vu all over again. “Rest up,” he said with a grin. “I’ll be right back.”

But he wasn’t.

Liv could hear him rummaging through Chaz’s kitchen cupboards, drawers opening and shutting, cabinet doors ditto, the sound of a refrigerator door closing with that soft thud of a vacuum seal.

“Need help?” she called out, her voice drifting over the glass block walls separating the living/bedroom area from the kitchen in the loft space.

“The kind of help you can give me doesn’t require you moving. Take it easy, reflect on the state of the world-or not, considering the current chaos. Better yet, count the condoms we have left. I was thinking we should try to use them up.”

Liv smiled. “You do know how to sweet-talk a lady.”

“How about some tapas? Does that put you in the mood, too?”

How did he know? she thought, jumping out of bed. Standing in the open doorway to the kitchen two seconds later, she decided not only was her personal chef more gorgeous than one could ever imagine-his awesome cock alone capable of making one starry-eyed-but here he was making her tapas, her all-time favorite food. “When I heard the word tapas, I thought I must have been dreaming. You’re going to feed me tapas?”

He shot her a grin. “That’s what I do, babe. Feed people. Besides, I’m hungry. I forgot to eat today.”

“Just for the record, I hate people who say they forgot to eat. I would never forget to eat.”

He wasn’t about to argue with her. “Whatever you’re doing seems to be working.” His gaze raked her from head to toe in a quick appraisal. “You’re every man’s fantasy.”

“Back at you. You’re definitely centerfold material.” She smiled. “As is your spectacular friend,” she added with a tip of her head to the pertinent object.

“As long as you’re happy, we’re happy. Do you want a robe? There might be one around here, although I