My face was buried between Charlotte’s legs, my tongue dipping into her sweet pussy. I glanced up at her spread open on her back on my smooth wooden desk, arms stretched overhead. I blinked and burned that image into my brain. Paperwork would never be boring again.

I scraped the scruff of my beard back and forth across her clit, nuzzling her center. She squirmed, twisted her hips upward, and her breath grew ragged.

“Oh,” she rasped. “Oh, Joe, don’t stop.” I reached a hand up to her gorgeous tits, cupping them, playing with one nipple, then tweaking the other until they both hardened. I dropped my hands to her thighs and pulled her down toward me so she couldn’t get away. I worshipped her clit with my mouth, my teeth, my lips, tormenting it in just the right rhythm. The perfect dance. Licking. Scraping. Sucking.

She arched her back. “Fuck. So good, Joe. So...” She pushed her heels into the top of the desk and tilted her head back. Her breath hitched in her throat, and her mouth formed a beautiful O as her body convulsed in ecstasy.

I licked her pussy a bit longer then slipped two fingers inside her. She was so wet. So tight. And I was so hard I was ready to explode. “There’s another orgasm waiting for you, Cupcake.”

She pushed herself to sitting and smiled. “You first. I insist.”

I held my hands out and helped her stand. She leaned back against the desk.

I reached for the condom, sliding it onto my rock hard dick. “Legs wider.”

She took a broader stance, and wiggled her hips side to side. “How’s this? Will this do?”

“Smartass.” I held onto her shoulder and kissed her, rubbing my cock against her wetness. Then I slid inside her. She was just as tight as I remembered. So good.

“Hot Waiter,” she groaned. “You’ve got the best cock. Fuck me hard.”

“You sure? You’re tight, Cupcake.”

“I’m as wet as I’ll get and I’m horny for you.”

I took her with everything I had. I pumped into that sweet pussy clenched around my dick. I cupped Charlotte’s tits, fondling them. I trailed kisses down her neck, then bit the sexy part where it moved into her collarbone.

“Fuck me harder,” she moaned.

I placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled out of her slowly. “Turn around. Bend over.”

She swiveled.

“Spread your legs.” I pressed my dick against her ass cheeks and placed my hands on her hips, angling that gorgeous ass up toward my cock. Then I slipped back inside her, burying myself deep.

“Oh,” she said. “So good.”

I fucked her hard, just what she asked for, just what I wanted. I felt my entire length caressed by her heat, her tight center, until I didn’t think I could hold on any longer.

“So good, Joe. You’re so fucking hot.”

I held her tighter, my abdomen and chest pressed up against her back and exploded in her. Spasms racked my body and waves of pleasure rippled through me.

This woman was killing me.

* * *

I cracked eggs in the skillet and chopped scallions on the wooden board. “It’s Saturday,” I said, “Let’s go see a movie.”

Charlotte sat on a bar stool by the granite countertop wearing one of my white dress shirts. Damn, if it didn’t look better on her than me. “We could go see that new spy flick,” she said.

“It didn’t get great reviews on Rotten Tomatoes. What about the British war movie?”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Benedict! Oh my God. I totally forgot to feed Benedict. I’m a horrible cat mom. He’s probably been staring at his food bowl for hours.” She jumped off the chair.

“When’s the last time he ate?”

“Wet food was before I went to your Grandma’s party last night.” She stripped off my shirt, giving me a glimpse of her delicious tits. She grabbed her top, yanked it on, and then pulled on her skirt.

I picked up my shirt and buttoned it over my jeans. “I bet he survived.”

“He probably thinks something terrible happened to me. Where’s my coat? I’ve got to go!”

I pulled it from the hall closet and helped her on with it.

“Thanks for a lovely time.”

I grabbed my parka. “I’m coming with you.”

* * *

I was inside Charlotte’s third floor walk-up apartment for the first time. It was small and cute. Red and white dish towels hung from the rung on her stove. An Erin Brockovich movie poster graced the wall. Benedict scarfed down wet food as Charlotte filled his water bowl then placed it on the floor. “He’s traumatized,” she said.

“He looks okay to me.”

“You don’t know him the way I do. He never eats when I’m in the room with him. He’s clearly upset that I was gone so long.” She walked into her living room and I followed, her cat on my heels.

“Disagree.”

Benedict licked his paw, groomed his whiskers, then stared up at me and blinked. I reached down and rubbed his ears. He ignored me for a few moments, then narrowed his eyes and purred.

“We’re good,” I said.

“Look, I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting company.” Charlotte folded the blanket on the side of the couch. She lifted the pillows, plumped them, and placed them back on the sofa in different angles.

“What are you doing?”

“Now you know how I live. It’s not Saks. It barely qualifies as Pottery Barn.”

I surveyed the place. A small, decorated Christmas tree sat in the corner of the living room, a star on top. Framed pictures of Charlotte next to a middle-aged woman and a young woman who resembled her were assembled on the shelves of the chunky TV cabinet. Stockings hung from decorative ornament holders positioned on top of the cabinet. “Charlotte” was embroidered on the red one. “Benedict” on the green.

“I totally understand if you want to pull out of the deal. Cancel the matchmaking contract,” she said. “Seriously, who’s going to trust someone like me to pull off a match for Joe Delacroix. What was your grandmother thinking? I wouldn’t want to trust that job to someone who lives in a freaking hovel on Chicago’s Southside.”

“What happened to you? You’re sure of yourself one second, you’re insecure the next. Someone or something undermined you. Made you feel awful. And you bought into it or you wouldn’t say stuff like this.”

She stopped straightening up and stared at me.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not born feeling this bad about yourself. Plenty of people live in tiny places. Plenty of people squeak by month to month. I’m not one of them. God saw fit to grant me different demons. What happened to you?”

She bit her lip, looking down. “I don’t talk about it.”

“Never?”

“Nope,” she said.

“Okay.” Benedict wove around my feet meowing. “What do we have planned for today?”

“I have client paperwork, laundry, and house cleaning.”

“We’re still knee deep in my client emergency.”

“Your ‘emergency’ was last night.”

My stomach growled loudly. “Breakfast. Let’s go out to eat. Besides, you made a deal. You promised to handle my client 911 until I meet the miraculous Violin next week.”

“Violet,” she said. “Fine. Give me a few to shower and change.”