"After awhile," he said. He ran a finger lightly down the top of her thigh.
"Gardenburger," she murmured.
He rested his whole hand on her leg. "Gardenburger," he agreed. She smiled slightly. The devil and the angels were gone from her face. She might have been a sunset or an early morning lake. They lay quietly for a minute.
"I love it when you just take me like that."
"Mmm," Oliver said.
"All week, I don't know who I am. I get a hint, like, when you smile at me—but when you fuck me, I know." Her hand lifted again and fell over against his stomach. He patted her hand. She sighed contentedly and slid her hand down. "Oh," she said, "we've got work to do." She rolled to his side and put her open mouth on his chest. She stroked him steadily and then rolled to her back pulling him over on her. "Come on, Lover. Give it to me." She was urgent, calling repeatedly. The need built deeply and quickly, leaping into her, turning him inside out and helpless in her arms.
It was an hour later when he opened his eyes. "I was going to wake you at three," Suzanne said.
"Make that two gardenburgers," he said. "I'd better take a shower."
Suzanne cut up an onion and fried it with the burgers.
"Damn," Oliver said, emerging from the steamy bathroom, "onions!" He was still waking up. Suzanne was dressed again. Oliver sat at the kitchen table to eat, but he couldn't take his eyes from her breasts. They were just right, hanging and swelling under her T-shirt; they were perfect for his mouth, like pears, but so much better. "God!" He shook his head. "You are too much."