Sweat Equity by Liz Crowe

couldn't resist taking a deep breath of her, his nose buried in her hair as they sat together and sipped the wine.
    "So are you going to drive me home or are we camping out poolside tonight," she asked.
    "Why not stay, or do you have early appointments tomorrow," he asked, surprising himself. He hadn't really planned it this way. Figured he'd take her home after his carefully choreographed pool seduction. But the urge to wake up with her in his arms was overwhelming to the point of breathtaking.
    "Why, do you cook breakfast?" She ran her free hand down his torso, making his skin pebble.
     "For your information I am the best blueberry pancake maker on the planet; it's a known fact," he shifted in his seat as her hand traced a path towards his towel already stirring in anticipation.
    She took another sip of wine.
    "You know, I love blueberry pancakes, so if that's part of the deal, I think I'll stay over. But, you'll have to get me home by eight tomorrow," she said softly as she leaned over to kiss the skin of his chest, and nose her way over to his nipple, which hardened appreciably. He closed his eyes and leaned back on the lounge chair, as she licked her way downward, towards the bulge under his towel.
     
     
    Contentment slipped over her like the soft towel he wrapped her in, as she snuggled in deeper. When tears sprung up, she cursed herself and sat forward.
    "Hey, hey, none of that," he swung his legs down to the floor and gripped her shoulders. "I do not make ladies cry. I won't allow it. Seriously. Cut it out."
    She giggled and leaned into his arm. Draping a hand over his muscular thigh, she took a deep breath. "Craig," He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him.
    "No."
    "What? You don't even know what I'm about to ask."
    "Whatever it is the answer is no."
    "Huh. Well, I guess I can't suck your cock then. Oh well, your loss." She stood, and stretched, yelping when he tugged her back to his lap and covered her lips with his. The kiss left her completely breathless in more ways than one. "So now that we have that covered…" she touched her forehead to his. "This is fun. I'm glad we did it. But you have to know,"
    "I know. It's okay. I don't mind being a fuck buddy, Sara. Honestly, I have always had a blast with you anyway; this just adds a lovely, um, element to our friendship, don't you think?"
    She smiled and kissed him once more then stood up to reposition herself across his lap, the lovely hard bulge of his resurgent erection warm against her body. "Yes, a lovely element indeed. You got any more of those up here?" She nodded towards the wad of paper towel where he'd placed his used condom.
    "Paper towels? Sure, for you anything." He picked her up, locking onto her lips with his and carried her towards the elevator.
            "Smart ass," she insisted but held on for dear life, suddenly wanting nothing more than the calm, handsome, charming man holding her in his arms.
            He set her down and pressed her against the wall of the elevator, his hand reaching under the towel to caress her still pulsing sex. "Maybe. But in the meantime, let's fuck again, eh buddy?"
            "Promises, promises," she sighed as he fulfilled it, once in the elevator and once more on the bed before they fell into an exhausted, sweaty, contended sleep.

 
    Chapter Nine
     
    Sara glanced at the text. Her scalp tingled for a split second thinking it was Jack but she smiled when she realized the number was Craig's.
    "Hey yourself" she sent back. "Thanks for Friday night; btw. I can't remember if I said that."
    "Yeah, you did. About a hundred times already. What about Saturday morning? I don't get thanked for that?"
    Her face flushed at the memory. "I think I get the thanks for that."
    "Oh, yeah you do. Thanks."
    About an hour went by while she sorted through paperwork for a few closings. His next message tested her resolve to go home by herself tonight. She had a strong need to be alone. She