"Yes."
"I'll bring the tea." She returned with mugs and two toasted English muffins on a plate. She put them on a bedside table, went around to the other side of the bed, and lay next to him, her head propped up on pillows.
They sipped tea and munched on muffins. "I like it here," Oliver said.
"It's cozy," Suzanne said.
"It's hard not talking to you at work," he said.
"I hate it," she said. She put down her mug. "We don't need to think about that now."
"No," he said, closing his eyes. She placed her hand on his chest and rubbed slow circles. Oliver sighed and surrendered to the palm of her hand and her fingertips.
"Much better," she said. Her hand moved slowly across his chest and then down over his stomach. Her fingers reached under the top of his pants and paused. He sighed again and rolled a little closer. Her hair brushed across his face, and her fingers worked downwards, quietly circling and pressing. "Oooh," she said. "We have lift-off."
Oliver took a deep breath. Impulses swirled. He reached down in slow motion and undid his pants. Then he rolled over onto his knees above her and opened his eyes. Suzanne watched him as he yanked off her pants. A knowing smile twitched at the corners of her mouth while concern and a plea for forgiveness showed in her eyes. She was wet and ready. She held nothing back, let him drive her crazy, begged him for it, and then gave a series of wondering cries as releases rippled through her body, one after another.
He withdrew, still hard, and kissed her. He lay back and stretched his arms toward the ceiling. His headache was gone. Suzanne lifted one hand a few inches and let it fall back on the bed. "Oliver?" He moved his head closer so that he could hear her. "You hungry yet?"