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“Damn, girl. Can we wait? You know. Maybe do this again?” It’s a compulsion. I keep saying uncharacteristic things to her.

“There’s no way I’ll get a word written if I’m thinking about the last couple of hours.” Her smile is a touch wicked. It’s going to be my undoing.

“I know. I’ll probably lose my company.”

She shifts under me and bites the side of her mouth. Adorable. “How about if I get dressed and go? Perhaps we’ll figure something out in the new year.”

I kiss her substantially while holding her incredible tits. “Just needed that to sustain me for the long fall, the election, and holiday season. You may be the most pragmatic romance writer in the world.”

I throw on sweatpants as she reassembles her outfit. And then I watch her reach into her coat pocket and pull out that purple pen. She wraps her hair around into a makeshift bun secured with the pen. It’s like a sexy scattered professor look. I’d love some office hours with her. She keeps looking at me like she’s trying to figure me out. I assume I look the same. I’ve no clue what to do in this situation. I can’t remember the last time I did anything non-work related in some capacity. I’ve fucked women, lots of women, even women at work. I’m not proud of that one, but I don’t go anywhere, not work-related. Perhaps an occasional drink with guys, but essentially, I work. It’s my whole day, every day, and focus.

I have to tell her. “I’m married to my job. I truly am.”

She looks at me, incredulously. “I am too.” She’s too excited that I understand her, but I feel understood too.

“Strongest, longest, and most satisfying relationship of my life.”

She jumps up a bit. “Same!”

She bends over to put her shoes on, and I straight up stare at her ass while my dick twitches. I might carve a tiny bit of time out of my schedule if she asked nicely. When she stands, I offer, “Let me run you to your hotel.”

“You have a car? And an apartment in DC? And live in LA?”

“All from before. Usually, the apartment and the car are rented to a junior house rep while Congress is in session.”

I kiss her as I close the door for her. The kiss is long and deep, sweeping my tongue against every part of her. I don’t want to give her up, but I have to. That’s just the way things are. Shit. I want to keep talking to her and order breakfast together. I want to call her later. Not in fucking January. But mostly, I want to bury my cock in her a couple more times tonight. But she’s made it clear this is it, so we wait. It’s a good plan. My moment of insanity will fade as she exits my life, and then I’ll see the whole thing clearly.

We’re holding hands, and I’m using my other one to steer while she snuggles in the passenger seat facing me. “You’re driving me home like we had a date.”

“This was a date.” I brush my lips to the top of her hand. Then I let go and dig into my center console and pull out my emergency M&Ms and an old daisy-shaped keychain I used to keep my gym membership card on. I hand them to her.

She smiles and says, “Chocolates and flowers. Now it’s a date.”

7

Tess

“My first real date in years,” I say, and he squeezes my hand.

There were hookups at bars or setups. I’ve Tindered in different cities, but as for a drink, a dinner, and then sex with someone who genuinely cares what I have to say, yup, again new territory.

I respond to him, pushing our flirting, “You didn’t so much ask me out as tell me to put my coat on.”

“You didn’t resist.”

“I most certainly did not. Not many things get me to break my self-imposed curfew.” He kisses my hand while still looking at the road. His strong jaw and perfectly proportioned nose in profile are seducing me all over again.

He slams his left hand on the wheel. “AHHH! Urg. Dammit. We’re both good at compartmentalizing, right?”

I say, “It’s my religion.”

“Driven, focused, career-oriented—” he continues, and I interrupt to let him know I catch his drift.

“Both married to our work. Perhaps we could occasionally cheat on our work,” I say emphatically.

“Exactly. We can be each other’s side piece if the timing works out.” I laugh at the implication our relationship is the affair. We’re cheating on our jobs to have sex with each other.

I say, “We’ll go back to our marriages. Time will fly by because we have busy lives. And, soon enough, when we have a break, ask me out for another burger.”