"Miranda," Miranda replied. She had one delicate hand resting on Ken's powerful chest and the other on her own thigh. She felt that her heart rate had increased, she figured her pupils were dilated, and she could definitely feel the telltale signs of moisture between her upper legs. If he could do all that with a simple kiss, she couldn't wait to find out what else he could do. For a moment, Miranda just looked at the man who had caused said reaction, trying to place exactly what it was about him that had her so utterly done for, when they had barely spoken more than a sentence to each other. It wasn't like this was a norm for her, she didn't go falling over herself for whatever new man crossed her path. There had been several who were far cuter than this one, but something about Ken set her on fire and made her toes curl with just a glance.

She was sitting on said man's lap and couldn't believe how right it felt. Had she really had that much to drink? She felt buzzed no doubt, but not, lounge in strange men's laps, drunk.

A waitress passed by them with a tray. "Ma'am?" Ken asked. "Could you bring us two coffees and two waters, please?"

"Sure thing, dears," the waitress replied.

Miranda figured that it was a good three hours past the scheduled end of the reception. Nearly everyone else had left and the staff was working on pick up and cleaning but considering the amount of coin Miranda knew had been dropped on the venue, even though the waitress was likely tired she wouldn't deny them a fresh pot of coffee.

"So, I'm Ken," Ken supplied as he trailed a hand down her arm to lightly lace his fingers with his hers, "but you already knew that didn't you?"

Miranda didn't object to the coffee or his awareness that she had singled him out.

"So, which blue blooded family do you hail from?"

"I'm a McCallister," she replied, not completely certain what his response would be, but also guessing that he didn't really give a fuck one way or the other. Ken didn't strike her as someone looking for a meal ticket. He seemed to be the kind of man that liked what he liked and stood on his own two feet. Not everyone was born into her world.

"Hmm," he said with a light snort, and that was his only reply. "So, what do you already know about me?" he asked. It was a sincere question, and he said it gently, all the while keeping her comfortably snug against his warm form. There was no demand in his speech or his body, just pure curiosity about the women who he now found in his lap.

"Well," Miranda started. "I know that you've been Gary's close friend since childhood. I know that you're working for Nora's family in the New York at their security firm. I know that there are rumors that you were dishonorably discharged from the Army, but no one seems to know for what. I know from sitting here that I can't wait to get my hands on your muscles, and if that kiss was just a prelude that I'm in for one hell of a night."

Ken let out a solid chuckle and had to resist the urge to out right laugh followed by throwing one unabashed brunette down on the table in front of them to just ravage her. She was so sure of herself and unapologetic. My God, she was sexy!

The waitress returned with a tray with waters, a small pot of fresh brewed coffee, mugs, spoons, and cream and sugar. "I brought you some croissants, too," she added, indicating the small basket. "They're fresh made for tomorrow's brunch."

"Thank you, that was thoughtful," Miranda returned, thinking they could probably both use a little something to soak up the alcohol.

As soon as the waitress had placed everything down on the table, Ken gently pulled Miranda up to stand, directing her to take the seat across from him, formerly occupied by Gary.

"Sit, drink," he encouraged. "If we're going to do this, we both need to sober up."

"Yeah, coffee was a good call," she agreed.

"Plus, I want to be able to drive. My Corvette's outside and you'd look all the more beautiful riding shotgun," he flashed her a smile. The car was on loan from his immediate boss, but he didn't need to confess that piece of info. His boss had offered it to him for the weekend with strict instructions that it be returned in one piece. The car was a fine piece of machinery, sleek and black, the interior was black with accents of red, Miranda would suit it perfectly. "And no, I don't need to compensate for anything. I just happen to like fast cars."

"So I've been told," she quipped. Miranda added sugar to her cup that Ken had poured and splashed in some cream. "How about fast women?" she asked, looking up through her eyelashes as she stirred.

"Well, now," Ken paused. "That depends. I'm all for fast, but with you, I think I'll be looking for more than one spin. Is that an option?" he asked, being hopeful. He'd take what he could get but he had a feeling a one-night stand was sooo not going to cut it with this woman.

Miranda tried to not look too encouraged. The fact that he hadn't even had her yet, and was already asking for more, made her feel giddy with anticipation. She certainly wasn't above a one-night stand, but she was really hoping there was more to her crazy overwhelming desire for one Ken Wheatley than that too. She gave him a sweet, but smug smile. "As I mentioned earlier," she reminded, "we'll have to see, but I think I'd like that."

Ken smiled back at her. "Drink your coffee, my dear. Have some of the water, too. You're going to need to hydrate."

Miranda took a sip of her drink and licked her lips. "You know, I have no problem sobering up, but we could have also gotten a ride. A little buzz would have been fun, too."

Ken wasn't about to leave his boss' 'vette, plus he really wanted to see the view with Miranda in the passenger seat.

"You know I was wondering about Gray and Nora leaving?" he asked. "Gary's not one to drink and drive."

"There were a slew of limos and town cars with drivers on standby, to take guests wherever they need to go. Gary would have known that," she explained.

"They don't miss a detail around here, do they?" Ken remarked.

"Nope. Comes with the territory. Rides are also available back here tomorrow for guests to collect cars. Safety first, you know."

"And no expense spared," Ken further commented.

"You did grow up with Gary, right?" Miranda asked. "You know how things work around here."

"The O'Neill's are very wealthy sure, but not McCallister wealthy."

"Well, not many people are, darling. The fortune's been built on over the years, kind of how things work."

Miranda nibbled on a croissant, watching Ken as he drank his coffee. The man was clearly trying to clear his head and poured himself a second cup. She kicked off one heel and poked her big toe up his nearest pantleg. He raised an eyebrow at her but otherwise didn't react. Miranda slowly stretched her foot to rest her sole on his lower shin. Ken reached for a croissant and bit into it. They finished their snack and drinks in relative silence as she gently stroked his leg with her bare foot.

The waitress returned to check on them. "Can I get you anything else, dears?"

"No, thank you, this was a treat," Ken answered, giving Miranda a quick wink. The waitress left and he turned back to her. "Are you ready?"

"Definitely," she answered.

"If I head to the men's room before we go, will you still be here when I get back?"

"I'll do you one better," she answered, figuring going to the ladies' room herself would be a good idea. "I meet you at this 'vette of yours in a few minutes. Where are you parked?"

"Meet me out front," Ken directed, standing and dropping two twenties on the table. "I'll pull her up for you."

Miranda stood herself and added a fifty from her purse. "Sounds wonderful, darling." Catching Ken's expression at the added bill, she looked up at him. "Pish posh, don't worry about that, dear. I'd pay a hundred times that for the shot of an evening with you. Her help was appreciated." She gently patted his chest. "I'll see you out front in a bit."

She turned and Ken watched her move towards the ladies' room, before snapping himself into action. He didn't want to keep her waiting. He used the facilities and went to the sink to wash up. Splashing some water on his face, he checked his appearance, and did a little bit of a gut check. He still looked good. His suit jacket was hanging on the back of the chair, he needed to remember to grab it on his way by. He had long removed his tie, shoving it in his pocket. His cuff links were still in place, an old gift from Gary's mother. He had unbuttoned the top few buttons to his dress shirt, showing just the top of his chest hair. His intoxication had faded to just a lingering soft buzz. He felt plenty fine to drive. He should have been tired, having driven the four hours or so down from New York last night, but the attentions of one brunette had him wide awake and exhilarated for more.

He returned to the bar area, lifting his jacket from the chair, and moved to the entrance hall. Miranda was waiting by the door. She took his arm. "Mind if I lean on you?" she asked. "My feet are tired from the heels."

"I was going to get the car for you."

"I know." She had peed quickly, excited to get back to him, and maybe a touch apprehensive that he would have second thoughts if she took too long. "I can walk."

She did lean a little weight on him as they walked. Ken figured she was taller, but with the heels, she had a good few inches on him. He had parked the car a ways back in the lot, not wanting to take a chance of it getting scratched. He could see it in the lit lot, but it was still several yards. Ken stopped and bent enough to scoop Miranda up into his arms. She let out a squeak, followed by a laugh. "Well, you said your feet were tired." He chuckled warmly. "It's the least I could do."

Feeling the reverberations from his laugh, Miranda snuggled into his chest. He was literally sweeping her off her feet.

They reached the car and Ken set her down so that her butt was perched on the passenger side hood. He caged her in with his arms, resting his hands on the hood. With her body lowered beneath his, he took the upper hand. Miranda swallowed as she noted his prominent biceps just beneath the material of his shirt.

It was next to impossible to tell who moved first, but a second later, lips and tongues met in a heated debate. If Miranda had any lingering doubts about their chemistry, they flew out the window along with the last of her inhibitions. They were smoking together. They moved with and at each other, kisses and caresses, seeking to stimulate, tempt, and tease, fighting for the upper hand. It didn't take long for Miranda to realize she was going to lose the battle, and for once in her life, that was just fine. There was something about this man that made her feel safe to give him control without feeling that he would use it against her.

Ken shifted his firm lips from hers to move to her jawline at the same time that he slid her dress high enough up her thighs to lift one leg upwards, seeking to push her down onto the hood. Miranda almost let him. In the same instance that he was contemplating flipping her over to take her behind across the hood of the car, she dropped an open hand to his chest, stopping his momentum.

"Ken," she panted up at him, pupils blown wide in the dim light and with desire. "I could use the excuse that I want to be able to come back to the best yacht club on the Chesapeake, but I think we both know that I don't have enough shame to worry about that."

"Ok, so then what's the problem?" he asked, moving to return his lips to literally anywhere, but she held her hand up again. He let out a soft grunt of frustration.

"If we'd already been doing it like rabbits, I'd be more than happy for you to flip me over and take me right fucking now, but..."

Well at least they had had the same thought, Ken considered, that was a start.

Miranda continued, "I rather that my remembrance of our first time together was more than a quick and dirty half clothed fuck against a parked car."

Ken grunted again, but he knew she was right. He pumped his hips once, twice, three times against her, more as a balm to himself of more to come, then pulled back from her, rubbing his palm roughly over his face. He shook his head side to side, closed his eyes, swallowed, let out a breath, and then opened his eyes to reach down a hand to help her up. "My Lady," he addressed her, intentionally being overly chivalrous, "your chariot awaits."

Miranda let out a light laugh, accepting his hand and appreciating the concentrated effort to calm his sex drive. She allowed him to lead her from the hood to the passenger side door, which he opened for her. She took her seat, and he made sure that she was situated before he gently closed her door and walked around the front of the car to the driver's side.

Ken paused, his hand on the door handle, to take another steadying breath. If he wasn't worried that he'd leave a dent, he would have banged his first against the car roof. He opened the door to take his seat. He glanced over to the woman who he had already concluded was going to be his death and asked, "So, where to?"

She smiled at him, "I assume wherever your staying has neighbors and thin walls?"

Ken lifted one side of his mouth and gave her a double nod that she was correct.

"Well then, we're heading to my parent's place on the shore."

"Umm, I'd rather that a bunch of strangers overhear me making you scream than your own parents," he countered, a bit nervously.

"Well, my parents were leaving on an overnight flight to Paris on business on the company jet right after the reception. I'm staying in the furnished room over the boat house, and there will be no one around for miles."

Ken couldn't turn on the ignition fast enough. "Give me directions, sweetheart."