Out of Her Comfort Zone(10)

“More?” he purred. Emily pursed her lips again, pulling on the straw. The drink was sweeter than she cared for but Elliot’s reaction was all she could desire. He pushed his chest into her back; she felt the chamois of his shirt on her bared shoulder blades and the rumble of his low growl. She did it again, feeling quite the femme fatale, and was rewarded by a familiar bumping near her ass.

“Happy to see me?” Her voice sounds like some other girl’s. Or rather, woman’s.

“I wasn’t sure you’d go through with it. I’m so... glad... you did.”

The drink was small, and soon enough she was sucking at the dregs. Leaning her head into his shoulder, she licked her upper lip, slow. There was no way this lipstick was coming off easy.

In the reflection of the window Emily could see others watching, not staring but stealing looks. Smoldering looks. She must be doing this right.

Elliot dropped the glass, which must be solid crystal because it didn’t shatter. Shaking his head as if waking from a dream, he looked up, into the window, and then over his shoulder. Everyone who had been watching quickly turned away.

He cleared his throat, and then shouted out, over the relentless house beat. “Find a friend! Make a friend! I’ll get back to you.” She thought she heard a few chuckles as he turned the whole of his attention back to her. “You’re mine tonight.”

“You’re so sure.” She flicked her glance over his shoulder, as if to check out the rest of the room, and he moved his head, blocking her view.

“Positive. Now, show my city what a pretty ass you have.”

She didn’t understand at first, so he took her by the hip and spun her to face him. He licked across her lower lip. “Missed a spot.”

“You don’t like coconut.”

“But you do.” His hands cupped her shoulders, and she gasped, remembering how bare she was here, all legs and arms and nearly all chest, and with all these people around. Here, with Elliot, who couldn’t keep his breath under control for once. She smiled with what she hoped was Lauren Bacall sass, and raised a brow.

Elliot moaned. “Not playing fair. Now keep your feet where they are.” He took a step back, pulling her shoulders forward. “Bend, baby.”

Now she saw what he wanted. As she bent from the hips, she huffed through the silk shirt at the divot of fair hair on his chest between his nipples. He shuddered and pushed her lower.

“Arms around my waist.” She did as he said, and added her own little huff to his belly button. Would her tongue reach? She shifted her weight onto one hip, trying to keep her balance for the experiment. Then she felt his palm hot on her bare bottom. Her ass was exposed. To the city!

For a moment she froze in near-panic. But the moment quickly passed, and the music kept going, and she was and here he was here and didn’t she want this? She most certainly did.

She pressed her new bangs into his waist for balance and, well, access. “Don’t be a bad girl,” he said. She had no idea what he meant. Could he be talking about his cock, doing the crazy let-me-out bulge right below her? She ignored it and instead moved her attention to his ass. It was only fair. She flexed her fingers and slipped them under the waistband of his trousers. Shit, should’ve thought to loosen the belt first. But there was just enough give, and she didn’t have to reach far to touch skin. She tried to match in her little field the circle rhythm of his hand on her. But then his hand vanished.

She heard the smack before she felt it, or before she recognized what she was feeling. Her face flushed red with embarrassment. Or was it excitement? She wondered if the thin strip of material covering her slit was as wet as she felt inside.

“Told you not to be bad,” he whispered, and started the circling again. She started to pull her arms back, sliding her fingers towards his hips. After a moment, he seemed to realize what she was doing and reached back to capture her hands. She could smell his excitement.

“Up,” he commanded, and she lifted her strange new chest. His eyes were blazing. She’d done that. “We’re not supposed to kiss the girls on the mouth.” But she saw how much he wanted to. And she wanted him, too.

She managed a pout. “Earlobes?”

“Yes,” he sighed, almost in relief, and spun her around to face the window again. Her palms were soaked against the window now. This would leave a mark.

Elliot pushed into her, nipping her ear, kissing her neck, gripping her shoulder, hard. She wondered if he knew his hips were grinding hers in time with the primal throb of the music. She decided not to tell him, because then he might stop.

Her eyelids fluttered, and then it was just them, deep in the music, flying over the city. In a moment, in a minute, she didn’t know, she’d gone from liking his grinding to not being able to survive without it. She grabbed his hips and pulled them close, but they were already as close as they could be. She wouldn’t let go.