There was still part of her which was unsure, mostly because she felt incredibly vulnerable in this moment. She’d been somewhat reassured by their argument—and she doubted he’d ever bring up her working at Marquis during a disagreement again—but if things went south it was really going to suck.

Then again, that was pretty much true about every relationship, wasn’t it?

“What are you thinking about?” Luke asked, his hand drifting up to play with her hair. Olivia hummed with happiness as his fingers slid between the locks to massage her scalp.

“About how shitastic this could still be,” she admitted. “But I’m starting to think it’s worth the risk.”

His body rumbled underneath her as he chuckled. “If this is you starting to think it’s worth the risk, I’m almost a little afraid of what happens when you decide it definitely is.”

“No you’re not.”

“No,” he agreed. “Not really. I could definitely get used to this.”

“Even the plug?” she had to ask.

“The plug’s not so bad.”

Olivia pushed herself partially upright so she could see his face. He kept his hand in her hair, fingers still massaging, while his other caressed her side. With his eyes closed, he looked completely serene. Replete. Satisfaction slid through her.

“What about when I get out the strap-on?” she teased.

One blue eye opened to look at her. “If it’s what you want, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Despite his supposed nonchalance, she felt his body quiver, his softened cock jerking slightly inside of her. The movement actually made him slide out of her, but she’d still felt it. The idea of making him one day admit how much he loved being pegged by her held definite appeal.

Unfortunately, their post-sex blissful reverie was interrupted by the sudden blaring of alarms, which had both of them cursing and practically falling off the desk as the loud shriek scared the crap out of both of them.

It wasn’t the fire alarm either.

By the time Luke managed to remove the plug and get dressed Olivia was already out the door and about a minute ahead of him. She’d given him an apologetic look as she dashed out and he’d almost tried to call her back, but he’d ended up just attempting to move even faster. Which meant practically tripping over his jeans as he got them over his legs while skip-hopping to the door, putting on his shoes in the hall, and buttoning up his shirt as he rushed downstairs. The alarms turned off while he was moving, which meant someone downstairs had taken care of it—mostly likely Nick or Avery, which calmed him somewhat.

Olivia wasn’t down there alone, and whoever was down there worked there—or else they wouldn’t have known the alarm code.