Page 17 of Scripted for Love and Poison
“And you’re wondering why I’m not taking to this place ...”
“You’re not liking it because I haven’t shown it to you. Once I discover Los Angeles for you, you’re going to fall in love with the city.”
“Allow me to remain skeptical about that. But I’ll be happy to see the city with you,” he admitted.
“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to head to Gjelina, where hopefully they’ll give you a table right away, because who has lunch at 2:30?”
“Unemployed screenwriters with their puppies?” he tried aggravating her, but he could hear her contained laugh while she kept talking and pretended to ignore his comment.
“You’re going to order the pomodoro pizza with burrata and one of the salads. I trust you’ll be able to make an informed decision. The traffic is bad-ish,” Sol said. He liked it when she got bossy.
“Obviously,” he said, but Sol ignored his quip, again.
“But I should be there in about forty minutes. We can order some dessert and then go to the beach.”
“Again?”
“Could you be a bit less obtuse? The other day we went to the beach in Santa Monica. This is Venice. I promise you’ll like it.”
“But just so that we’re clear, you’re not implying we’re going to swim or anything, right?” he said, still not understanding her beach obsession in January.
“Of course not! The water is freezing!” Sol exclaimed. “We’re going to stroll and people watch.”
“It’s going to be one of our passeggiate.”
“Precisely. But we’re not going to stay to watch the sunset this time. Because I want to get to the hotel early and see you naked.”
“I may be finally starting to like the idea of staying in this city,” he said, his tone laced with mischief.
It had been a glorious afternoon. Almost perfect. It played like the montage sequence in a movie: the sexy couple walking, their arms wrapped around each other. Taking every chance to touch, look at each other, smile.
Sol liked the idea of making new memories in a city that had been among her favorites for so long but that she’d been forced to keep out of her mind after the divorce. It was as if everything that she associated with Los Angeles—the sun, the ocean, the laid-back vibes, and the surfer energy—had become indistinguishable from her marriage with David.
She had avoided thinking about Los Angeles just to keep David out of her mind. But she was starting to have new experiences there, and some of them were now synonymous with a new Sol. And with her relationship with Luke.
After a stroll by the Ocean Front Walk, where Sol would have said that Luke was starting to show some signs of fondness for the place, they’d grabbed an Uber and made their way back to the hotel. They were now finally in front of their room at the Fairmont. She would have been able to open the door if Luke hadn’t been distracting her from the moment they got inside the elevator. He hadn’t relented even when they got out.
“You need to stop kissing my neck for two seconds,” she begged him.
“Really?” he whispered, pressing his chest and hips against her back, biting one of her earlobes, and making her shudder.
“I’m so—” she tried.
“Turned on?” he helped her, running his tongue slowly down her neck.
She arched her back against him, acquiescing. “That I can’t get the door to open.”
She’d tried the room’s key card four or five times, always getting a red light in the process. She was starting to feel extremely frustrated.
“Try my card,” he told her, still tickling her nape. “But you’ll need to find it first.”
“Really?” she said, but she couldn’t avoid smiling.
She turned, facing Luke, her back against the room’s door, his body pressed against hers. He continued torturing Sol with the most devilish neck play while she started going through the contents of his back pockets.
“Not there.” He bit her earlobe again, and she needed to find that damn key and open that door, or she’d combust in the hallway.
After feeling the perfect roundness of Luke’s ass, she got her right hand in one of his front pockets but decided he wasn’t going to be the only one to play the game of keeping the other aroused.
