“No pun intended,” she said, in between sexy little moans and pants.

“Take you and take you,” he added. “Fuck you and make love to you. I’m not going to hold back. I’m going to seduce you all over this city, and make you come every single day and night.”

“Please do,” she said, her voice rising higher, her breath coming faster.

“All the time,” he said, gripping her thigh harder, driving deeper. She responded by running her hands up his spine, and digging her fingernails deep into his skin.

“Leave marks on me,” he told her, and she dug in harder. “I want scratch marks from you.”

“You feel so fucking good, you’re going to get them, Clay. Oh God, you’re going to get them,” she said, holding on tight and hard, dragging her nails along his muscles as she cried out, rocking her hips against his as she came, and soon, he chased her there with his own orgasm.

He wrapped his arms around her, needing to hold her, even in the stalled elevator. He layered kisses on her neck, already hot and sweaty. “Julia, I won’t always take you hard like that, but sometimes I’m going to have to,” he whispered.

“You better take me hard, and you better take me slow, and you better make love to me all night long,” she said, pulling back to look him in the eyes. Hers were both fierce, and full of love.

“That’s a promise, and I keep my promises to you,” he said, running his thumb along her cheek.

“I know you do. That’s why I’m here to stay.”

That’s where he always wanted her.

EPILOGUE

Two Months Later

“What can I get for you?”

The pair of young women in slouchy tops revealing bare shoulders had parked themselves in the burgundy bar stools at Speakeasy, where Julia was now a part-owner. They perused the cocktail menu, and then the blonde one lifted her face to Julia, the look in her eyes full of excitement. “Can you make the Purple Snow Globe? We heard this is the only bar where we can get it made fresh,” she said, emphasizing that last word like it was made of sweet sugar. “I served some at a party last week from the store and everyone loved it, but we wanted to try the real thing.”

“And I will be delighted to make it for you. But I should let you know, this isn’t the only bar. There’s a little place in San Francisco called Cubic Z that also makes a Purple Snow Globe, so if you ever find yourself out west, you know where to go,” she said, and started mixing.

“Our friends are going to be so jealous. Everyone is loving this drink,” the woman said.

“I’m thrilled to hear that.”

After she set down the drinks, she headed to the back of the bar to retrieve more napkins. Along the way, her phone buzzed in her pocket, so she grabbed it. There was a text from Kim.

How’s business? Booming as always, like it is here?

Julia tapped out an answer. Always. She dropped her phone back into her pocket, glad that Craig had taken over behind the bar for her. She still owned a stake in Cubic Z, but Craig had needed a job, and her move had given him the perfect chance to help his wife while she was busy with the newborn. Charlie hadn’t been heard from, and while Julia and Clay had toyed with spreading a nasty rumor on Yelp about Charlie’s chicken, they’d decided not to. Charlie was a man not to be messed with, so they’d chosen to leave him and his chicken in the past. But Julia couldn’t deny she was pleased when her sister forwarded along a few new online reviews for Mr. Pong’s that all noted the restaurant was less popular at lunch these days. Seemed that Charlie had lost a good portion of his venture capital patrons at the restaurant. Hunter with the laughing tell might have been kicked out of the poker circuit, but had managed the last word after all, telling his friends to find a new haunt for their kung pao chicken hankerings, hitting Charlie where it hurt him most.

As for her apartment, McKenna had packed up everything for her, deciding what needed to stay and what needed to go. She trusted her sister completely with that choice, especially when the boxes had arrived with only her favorite items in them. She didn’t need her fluffy towels, though. Because she and Clay had bought new ones, with some of the $10,000 she’d won at the poker game, along with a bench, some softer pillows, and a new set of scarves. They’d considered ropes but they’d always been more DIY when it came to restraints, opting for belts, ties, panties and whatever was on hand, and that was likely to continue.

She pictured returning home tonight after her shift behind the bar. She’d find him naked in bed, sound asleep on his stomach, his strong back on display with the sheets low around his hips. The lights would be dim, the only sound the faint rhythm of his sleeping breath. She’d strip down to nothing, and run her hands along his skin. He’d groan lightly, roll over and pull her on top of him, and they’d have slow, sleepy, middle-of-the-night sex.

That image was burned in her brain as she returned to the bar to serve a new customer. A man in a suit had just sat down. Then she realized that man was her man. Her man in a suit, and by God, did he ever look sexy as hell in it. Maybe it was the little bit of cuff showing, or the cufflinks, or the purple tie he wore.

She rested her elbows on the bar, and flashed him a smile. “What can I get for you there, wearing your lucky tie?”

He ran his fingers down the fabric, and raised an eyebrow. “You noticed my lucky tie.”

“I always notice what you’re wearing,” she said in a whisper, her words just for him. “Are you thinking you’re getting lucky tonight?”

“I’m a lucky man every night because I have you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere. But you still must pay for your drink,” she said and poured him his standard scotch, placing it in front of him. He took a long swallow, then reached for her hand, threading her fingers through his.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said softly.

“Hey, handsome.”

“What would you think about going to Vegas this weekend?”

“So we can see your brother’s show, then play a little blackjack?”

“For starters,” he said, and there was a twinkle in his brown eyes.

A ribbon of possibility unfurled in her. “Are you going to propose to me in Vegas?”

He laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would like to know,” she said, as the corners of her lips curved up.

“But I love surprises, Julia. So I guess you’ll have to wait and see if I propose, or if maybe I take you there to elope.”

She clasped his hand tighter, her way of saying she liked that idea. Either one. Both. “So I won’t know till you take me to Vegas?”

He shrugged playfully. “Maybe I’ll do neither. But I’ll tell you this much. We will have an excellent time, and I fully intend on marrying you someday. Someday soon.”

“Oh you do, do you?”

“I do.”

“You practicing saying those words?” she said, teasing him like she’d always loved to.

“Maybe I am. Do you like hearing them from me?” he said, and every day she found new ways to fall in love with him. This was today’s.

“I do, Clay. I do.”

THE END

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