Carrie entered her office and closed the door behind her. She kicked off her shoes and slumped onto the couch. Mike had been so right about getting a couch in her office. The thought of trying to nap on an arrangement of chairs was just not very appealing. She lay down on her right side and her eyelids drifted shut. The last thing she remembered seeing before she fell asleep was the hourglass that Mike had given her. . .
She awoke with a start. Someone was knocking on her door. Carrie wearily levered herself off of the couch and slipped her shoes back on. She opened the door and was surprised to see a very determined-looking Dr. Mike Horton standing there.
He was dressed in scrubs. Carrie felt her knees weaken just the tiniest bit.
"Mike, come in. Are you okay? What's going-"
He stepped inside the door and closed it abruptly. "We need to talk."
"About what?"
"About you, about me, and definitely about that incredible kiss we shared on the Fourth of July." He leaned back against the door, folded his arms and waited for her to answer.
Carrie was taken aback. She took a few steps backward as she retreated into the safest reply she could. "Mike, I thought we agreed we wouldn't talk about it."
Mike wouldn't let her back off. For every step she took, he took one as well until she was backed up against her desk and he was staring at her so intensely that she thought he could see into her soul. "At the time I think that was best. Now, I'm not so sure. I can't stop thinking about you, Carrie. I dream about you at night, I think about you during the day, I fantasize about you constantly. I can't even look at Ali anymore without imagining that she's you, although I must say that her kisses pale in comparison to yours."
Carrie swallowed with some difficulty and latched onto something he said, "Kisses? You mean there's been more than one?"
Mike planted his hands on her desk and leaned over her, his mouth only inches away from her own, his eyes penetrating her own. "You really don't remember, do you? It was over a year ago, Mrs. Reed. You, me, the cabin the woods. You were naked as the day you were born, I was trying to keep you warm. You were dreaming about Austin. . ."
"Ohmigod," Carrie whispered, her fingers coming up to touch her lips unconcsiously. "That was you?"
He nodded, perfectly serious. She could feel the hard press of the desk against her legs, smell the scent of soap and sweat that clung to him, almost taste his breath. This was no dream. She was drowning in Mike and she did not feel the leats bit threatened.
"Are you unsure? Would you care to have me demonstrate?" he inquired. She wanted to scream. His thumb was rubbing ever so delicately against her hip and through layers of cloth she felt it, branding her. If he so much as laid a hand on her she knew she would faint from hormone overload. Even at their hottest, Austin had never made her feel like this.
"This isn't real, this is just a dream," Carrie said to herself, closing her eyes and willing herself to wake up. But she could still smell him, taste him. God, he was so delicious!
"If this is just a dream, then you wouldn't mind if I did this."
Carrie felt his hands on her waist, pulling her closer. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, hoping desperately that she would wake up at any moment now. But the undeniable truth was that she had been fantasizing about this for days, weeks even. She wanted him to kiss her again, to see if it was just as good as she remembered. Truth be told she'd been wishing he would ambush her in her office, rip off her clothes and make her forget that Austin Reed had ever existed. She loved her husband, yes, but what she felt for Mike made her affection for Austin seem cold and frostbitten in comparison.
She gasped when she felt his lips bypass her own and head for her neck. He nibbled on her earlobe just enough to drive her slowly crazy. Carrie opened her eyes the moment she realized that she was pressing her body against his, and her hands were digging into his back. She felt him go still for a moment. He lifted his head, looked into her eyes. Carrie shivered as she saw clearly for the first time what she'd been blind to for quite awhile. He wanted her. He wanted her so badly and the effort that it took to control himself was making him shake, too.
"Mike. . ." she whispered, looking at his mouth.
"Yes?" It was a question that demanded an answer.
Her eyes lifted to his and she saw barely-leashed lust mixed with another incredible emotion that she never dreamed she'd ever see: love. "What are we going to do?"
"What we should have done a long time ago," he answered before slamming his mouth down onto hers.
She didn't even try to put up a token resistance. She met him halfway, attacked him even. Everything on her desk hit the floor at the same time, creating a cacophony of sound that neither of them noticed because they were too busy trying to strip off each other's clothes.
Mike's scrub shirt hit the floor first. Carrie's blouse soon followed. Piece by piece, their clothes were shed. There was a recklessness to their actions. They were both feeling the sense of urgency that would be accompanied by reality setting in all too soon. It would be doing its best to make them both feel ashamed of what they were so greedily embracing at that moment.
But as Carrie felt his eyes, his hands, his mouth on her body, she knew that there was no way she'd ever feel ashamed of anything they were doing. From the sheen of sweat that had formed on Mike's skin, and the groans she heard from his throat as she touched him and reveled in him, Carrie knew that he felt the same way. There were whispered pleas and hushed moans as they discovered what the other liked best. It was so tender and intimate, and yet so unabashedly carnal and fierce at the same time, and Carrie knew in her heart that this was right, this was good. This was where she should have always been.
Before she knew what had happened, Carrie found herself on top of her desk, naked but for his body covering hers with her legs wrapped around his waist. She could only think, feel, taste, smell, see and hear one thing: Mike, making love to her. It was hard and fast and glorious, and Carrie thought that she drew blood when she dug her nails into his back as she felt her consciousness slipping away.
She was drowning in him, dying from the pleasure he was giving her. she couldn't take it anymore, it was just too much for her body and mind to handle.
The knock on the door woke her. Carrie's eyes flew open and she felt the hard press of the
couch against her hip and shoulder.
Oh my god.
"Carrie?"
The voice was muffled, but she knew it was Mike.
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