snap, crackle, and pop of the tension coiled between them. “I owe you for that. Come here.” Carly held out her hand, and Lauren took it, allowing herself to be pulled in. Every part of her hummed with wonderful anticipation. She wanted to be close to Carly, to take in her scent, and touch her skin, and feel Carly’s lips beneath hers. They’d kissed in rehearsal, and one drunken night out. Nothing came with the same level of intent as right this moment.
Carly was shorter, but with her wearing heels, and Lauren in flats, they were square. Carly made the move. She turned her head to the side and hovered just shy of Lauren’s mouth. “You do things to me,” she whispered.
Lauren closed her eyes, waiting for the kiss, desperately wanting. “You do them to me, too,” she whispered back. At those words, Carly’s lips were on hers, softly at first, and even that made Lauren’s knees shake and her muscles melt. When Carly deepened the kiss and ran her tongue along Lauren’s bottom lip, requesting entry, Lauren thought her brain might explode in the best way. She parted her lips and accepted Carly’s tongue, which lightly explored her mouth with soft, fleeting touches. It was like everything Carly did was designed to make her crave more, and oh, she very much did. Carly, clearly on a mission, walked Lauren backward as they kissed until her back met the wall of the entryway with a soft thud. Her hands moved up Lauren’s body to her shoulders, her neck, until they cradled her face. With her thigh pressed between Lauren’s, they made out like fourteen-year-olds against that wall. It was so different, kissing Carly this time. Yes, she knew what she tasted like, how their mouths fit, but this kiss? Had no destination. Outside, the wind sang. Inside, the heat tripled. Somehow, without fully planning on it, she was pulling Carly’s yellow blouse out of her jeans. This hadn’t been the plan, yet here they were. Carly pulled away from the kiss and watched her do it. God, she had such a sexy look on her face. Her eyes were dark and her lips were swollen from all the kissing.
A crack of thunder hit, loud. Carly stepped into her space and slid her arms around Lauren’s neck. She kissed just below her ear and down, sending a shiver all through Lauren. “I want you so badly,” she murmured between kisses. “I can’t stop thinking about you, touching you. God, you smell so good.”
Lauren’s eyes fluttered closed again as she attempted to deal with the sensations that flooded her from every direction. She could feel Carly’s breasts through her shirt. She wanted to see them, touch them, lick them. Another crack of thunder. What were they doing? Was this maybe too soon? This was technically just a first date. Carly felt amazing in her arms, warm and sexy and ready. Should we stop? She wanted to get her out of these clothes. She cupped Carly’s ass, which was firm and tight. Not at all surprising from the way it looked in every pair of pants she wore. Maybe we should log some more time together first. Lauren was on fire. Her bikinis were wet and her center throbbed. She slid her hands up to the small of Carly’s back and under her shirt. Carly gasped quietly when she touched her skin. Maybe slow down. There was her brain again, ruining all her damn fun. She pulled her mouth away and turned to the side. She heard the sound of her own ragged breaths, of Carly’s.
“You okay?” Carly asked, touching her lips.
“I need just a minute,” Lauren said, walking down the hall into the kitchen, and holding up one finger over her head. Carly waited a moment before following. Lauren could hear the soft click of her heels and turned to her, speaking across the granite island in her kitchen. Rocky raised his head, surveyed them, and dropped it again, returning to his midevening snooze. “Is it bad that I’m not a quick hookup kind of girl?”
Carly blinked, and rolled her lips in as if waiting for her wits to return after all the kissing. It was also possible she had whiplash from Lauren’s about-face. “No.”
“No? Okay, good, because as much as I want to…keep going, I’m worried I’m not her.” Lauren ran a hand through what had to be disheveled hair, from the wind, and the making out. She attempted to fluff