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Celia laughed.
"You are so pretty when you laugh," he said, looking at her intensely.
"Now you are hitting on me," she replied. "I think I'd better just sit over here."
"Oh, come on. You know you want to." He grinned mischievously.
"Who's to say that I'm not the serial killer?" She smiled back.
"Really. You could ravish me, then ravage me, and no one would believe that I got killed by such a beautiful woman."
"Oh, man, the shit's getting deep in here now," Celia said. But she got up from the chair and sat down on the bed, leaving plenty of room between them. Owen flopped back on the pillows, and she did the same. The tv's sound was low, and after a few minutes, Celia felt like nodding off. She rolled over on her side, facing Owen.
"I think we both know what we're doing here," she whispered.
"Oh?" he said, smirking a bit.
"Yes. I mean, in spite of the accident."
"Oh, in spite of the accident…" He reached for her hand, and she let him take it. He began to rub his thumb along the pad of her hand, and she felt shivers go up and down her spine.
"I shouldn't have come in your room," she said, moving closer to him, to feel his warmth. The air conditioner had finally cooled down the room, and now she was cold.
"Maybe you shouldn't have," he said, looking into her eyes. She could not take her gaze away from his. He moved closer to her, and now they were inches apart. She looked down at his lips. She could see his tongue every time he spoke, and she wondered what it would feel like to kiss him.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked. She nodded, and he took her in his arms, embracing her.
Celia had never been kissed like that before. Owen easily leaned in toward her, parting her lips with his tongue, and then she knew what he tasted like. She could taste a bit of coffee and cherry pie on his breath, but she didn't care. She kissed him back like it was the end of the world.
Finally, breathless, she broke the kiss. Below, she could feel what the kiss had done to him.
"Um," she sighed, looking at him once more. She reached up and caressed his face, feeling a day's worth of beard stubble under her fingertips.
"Um is right…" he said. "It's been a long time since I felt that."
"That? That what?"
"That kind of response." He grinned.
"Oh? Surely a hot motorcycle stud like you gets plenty of free sex whenever and wherever you want it."
He shrugged. "Not usually. I'm pretty picky."
"And tonight?"
"Am I going to get free sex?"
"Hehe. Nothing is ever free."
"Ain't that the truth." He paused.
So what do you think? :) (You can also read part of the first chapter here.)
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