The Truth About That Summer

seventy-two

By the time we get back, the combination of rain and the late hour has driven the remaining cook-out attendants inside, allowing Luke and me to sneak into his apartment above the garage without anyone even noticing.

I'm glad for that, not only because I might not be able to hold myself back from verbally lashing out at anyone besides Luke right now. But also because my sundress has barely held up in the storm, the thin material clinging to every curve of my body, the raw, chilled air hardening my nipples even through my bathing suit underneath.

Not that I'm embarrassed. I just think Luke might be, if anyone could see the way he's looking at my chest now, as he helps me from his truck. If anyone besides me were to notice a certain body part of his own now straining against the fabric of his jeans as he leads me upstairs.

Once we're inside, the chill sets in and goosebumps raise across my skin.

Unable to help himself, dark eyes still lingering over my chest, Luke crashes down on me, his kisses delicious and hungry. My hands knot in his hair as I kiss him back, the rain on our skin puddling on the floor at our feet.

Despite the heat building between our bodies as he holds me to his chest, kisses tenderly lining my jaw, my neck... My body's natural instinct prevails and a shudder rolls through me, my teeth clanking together as I shiver.

"Shit." Luke sighs, hands stilling immediately on my arms, our skin cool against each other. "We'll get sick if we don't dry off and warm up soon."

His brow pressed down to mine, his weight leaning into me, my eyes trail down to his full mouth.

Let me get sick then, I think to myself as I stretch forward and grab his bottom lip between my teeth.

"Now, now, Dylan Grace," Luke murmurs, his voice a breath over my lips, "Don't let your stubbornness now make you suffer later." He smirks, jerking his head towards the bathroom. "I'll get the water running. A hot shower should do it."

My eyes flash as his trail my body, from my head to my toes and back again, his lips quipping upwards in approval. He turns and enters the bathroom, the sound of water pelting tile inviting me to join him.

Yes, I think to myself, my mind catching up as my legs are already propelling me forward after him, A hot shower with Luke will do just the trick.

"Pickle, why don't you pick out a movie? I'll be out in a second." Luke calls from the bathroom, the door slightly ajar, steam still rolling out to the bedroom in thick clouds.

In Luke's t-shirt and nothing else, I sit cross-legged on his bed, mind and body both beautifully, peacefully numb. Sore, too, but in the best way.

"Pickle?" My nose scrunches in disgust. "How can you call me that, after what we just did?"

What we just did... heat rises in my cheeks and my thighs clamp together involuntarily. A shower with Luke had done just the trick... Again and again, in fact.

He made a show of warming me up - warming every inch of me up, so painfully slowly, as he rubbed a wash cloth over my body, trailing citrus suds everywhere he went. He washed the sweat and salt and sun and rain from my skin, before abandoning the towel all together, his hand retracing it's path over my arms, my neck, my breasts, pinching and twisting my nipples just so, before sliding his fingers over my ribs, my belly, lower, lower... until he was between my legs, slick fingers moving in and out of me until I was hot all over, whimpering for release.