Page 27 of Scripted for Love and Poison
She let Luke’s jacket slip off her shoulders and drew near him in a swift motion. She crouched so as not to hurt her head with the car’s roof and found herself seated on top of him, straddling him. She took his T-shirt with one hand and pulled him toward her, meeting his mouth with hers in an urgent, nearly desperate kiss.
“I need you,” she told him in between breaths as she inched closer to his body.
Her right hand found his skin, getting underneath his T-shirt and exploring the taut warmth of his chest. She ached to trace every inch of his torso with reverence. But that hand was needed elsewhere.
She took her mouth away from his for a ragged moment, smiling wickedly when she recognized the same need she was feeling in those beautiful, warm eyes. She bit his lower lip and groaned in pleasure as he kissed her not-so-delicately behind her earlobe and licked the column of her neck.
She ground herself on his lap, feeling his hardness against her clit through the fabric of his jeans and her leggings, resenting the barrier in between their bodies. She stood slightly on her knees, her right hand now finding his erection, stroking it. She could feel each one of Luke’s husky pants against her hand. She found the waistline of his jeans and started undoing his button first, then the zipper. He swiped her closer to him in a frantic movement, grabbing her ass and bringing their bodies flush, her throbbing breasts grazing his chest.
She smiled as she felt his cock in her hand. Naked. Rock-hard. Demanding.
He returned the smile, high on the heat of the situation, fighting with the extremely high waist of her leggings for a touch of her body.
The real world came crashing down then. Again. As the neighbor in front of whose house they’d parked came out on their front porch, a lantern and its bright-white light pointed in their direction.
“Who’s there?” they heard the neighbor called, a dog barking in the background.
In a quick move, Sol untangled her hands from Luke’s body, left his lap, and sat on the passenger seat.
“Go, go, go,” she ordered him. “Drive!”
“Seat belt!” he said as he fastened his own and got the car to move.
“This is a decent residential street!” the neighbor yelled as they were leaving.
They drove for a couple of blocks in silence.
“You have literally no idea how much I hate this city right now,” Luke finally said, a bite of frustration in his tone.
“Oh believe me, it’s starting to rub on me too,” she admitted. “And I’m not the one with the zipper down.”
They both exploded in a tension-releasing laugh.
17
Sol had plenty of reasons to be anxious and irritated. Yet she found herself calm and almost cheerful. She allowed herself to go over everything that had taken place in the last hour one more time as her Uber made its slow approach to her destination that morning. She had more than a hunch that her present satisfaction had a lot to do with what had just happened.
She’d been showering in Lola’s guest bathroom, which retained all the charm and discomfort of an original 1920s design. It featured bright-green tiled walls and a separate bathtub from the narrow shower alcove. Sol was shampooing her hair in the shower cubicle when she found herself not alone in the minimal space. Luke was also there. Naked.
He’d taken his index finger to his voluptuous lips, as if asking her to remain silent.
“Everyone just left,” he’d told her in an almost whisper. “But let’s keep it quiet. I don’t want more neighbors complaining.”
“And why exactly should the neighbors complain?” she’d asked him insolently, a smile tugging at her lips.
“I thought you could do with a bit of relaxation.” He helped her rinse the shampoo from her hair in what had to be the sexiest gesture she’d ever seen. And she’d watched Robert Redford taking care of Meryl Streep’s hair inOut of Africa.
Of course, in that movie there had been no steamy shower scene, which was exactly what Sol had anticipated would happen next. And, for the first time in days, she hadn’t been disappointed. Not completely, at least.
“When I thought about this little escapade, I massively overestimated the size of this space,” Luke told her in a growly tone while he kissed her neck. He made a slow descent along her collarbone, finding one of her breasts and biting mercilessly at her nipple. “I’m going to have to improvise.”
He used his lips on her mouth, her earlobe, her nape. But it was his teeth on her nipples. Had there been any room for it, she knew he’d have knelt between her legs and used his tongue. But he had to do with his fingers at her clit. He proved just as competent, relentlessly tugging, throbbing, stroking her core, sliding first one, then two fingers inside her.
“Love your improvisation skills,” she told him in a breathy moan.
“You sure?” His voice was pure insinuation. Rough and sexy in a way he sounded only when they were together and alone.
He had somehow gotten even closer to her, pressing her against the wall, his body against hers, his lips on hers, his fingers inside her. The warm water streamed over their skin, making everything feel hotter.
