Sinful desires{steamiest short stories}

My fingers were just inches from the cleft of her ass as I held her against me in a hard hug.

When I remembered to breathe, I was rewarded with the pressure of her chest against mine, and the elusive scent of her hair. Her hands were warm where they rested, at the small of my back and the blade of my shoulder. The fall of her hair tickled the top of my wrists. My finger traced a short curve against her waist, helplessly testing a long-ago threat.

As the hug went on, my head turned into hers, stubble rasping as my cheek rubbed against hers, and my hands were leaden, heavy with the need to slide down the fabric of her skirt, to cradle the ripeness of her curving buttocks.

My hands slid up slightly as I inhaled against the swell of her breasts, and then down, pinkies pressed against her flesh through her skirt, again seeking but not finding the delicate line of delicate lace.

With heads bowed, the grip of our arms loosened, and we moved back, barely, enough to put my hands on her hips, enough to feel her temple against my jaw through auburn locks, enough to breathe again, yet not breaking the contact of her body against mine.

Bending my head to rest against hers, unable yet to meet her eyes, I breathed the word in the dingy dark of the wood-paneled lounge.

“Hello.”

The stillness of her lips shifted almost imperceptibly, brushing the corner of my mouth with lips half in a smile as she turned to face me, lifting her head.

“Hi,” she answered softly, the smile shy.

Her eyes drew in the light around her, leaving her face shadowed around molton brown dotted with flecks of amber. She looked up, held my gaze for just a moment and then rested her cheek against mine once more, allowing the gentle chatter of crystal and glass to ride the susurration of the conversations around us. We stood there, still, body to body, breathing against each other.

“I honestly didn’t think you’d come,” I told her, incapable of more than naked truth. The sounds of the place isolated us more than the silence between us, but it was sacred rather than sterile. My fingers curled slightly, pressing against her lower back.

“I didn’t think I’d come either,” she answered with a warm breath against my neck. Neither of us moved from where we stood in the sparsely filled lounge. I was too busy with the awareness of her to see if people were staring.

The shake of a silent laugh under my hands should have warned me before she continued, “Technically, though, I still haven’t.”This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

My startled bark of laughter shook us both.

“You’re still a tight-ass sometimes,” she said, the wicked edge of the moment before blunted to affection. She smiled at me. “You’re looking pretty good, though.”

“Sorry,” I answered with as much rue as I could fake. “It’s just a strain trying to be a gentleman.”

Laughing, she leaned back in my grasp.

“It’s wasted effort, kiddo,” she declared with a laugh.

“Gentlemen don’t look for panty-lines.”

I dipped my head sheepishly at being busted over my wandering fingers. “You noticed that, huh?”

“Mmm hmm,” she smiled.

“Well, you threatened something once,” I said. “Involving… well… us ever actually meeting and a possible absence of panty lines.”

Her smile faded.

“That was a long time ago,” she said. “A lot of water under that bridge.”

“I know,” I acknowledged, offering the only apology for mishandled might- have-beens that I knew she would allow.

“Not quite so naive as I was,” she added. “Nope,” I agreed.

“I wasn’t sure I could stand to finally meet you,” she said, quieter. “I didn’t think I’d come.”

Neither of us spoke for a moment.

“Technically, though, you still haven’t, remember?” I said to break the growing silence between us.

She choked on her laughter and old sorrow, but it was enough to fight off the chill of bad memories. She put her hand on my chest.

“Dinner. Just… Let’s…” Her voice trailed as she tried to express something. I kissed her cheek and hugged her. As I relaxed my grip, she looked up at me, and smiled again, warm as the heat of her body against me.

“Dinner,” she said, with certainty.

“I know. I didn’t mean to go there,” I said. “Dinner, old friends, no strings. That… other.. was crocodile hindbrain taking over.”

“S’okay,” she excused, and then asked with a shy grin, “You reacted that strongly to me?”

“Definitely,” I answered. “You need to pick better pictures to send to your Internet boys. You’re unbelievable, woman.”

My answer definitely pleased her, as she shifted with self-conscious embarrassment.

“I’m nothing special,” she protested, perhaps out of obligation.

I shrugged, and took a hand from her hips to gesture towards the booth I’d been seated at. Her turn to the table moved my hand to rest against her buttock. The contact was an accidental pleasure, and playfully I closed my grip on her.

I felt the solidity of muscle under soft and silky padding. My hand was already falling to my side as she shook her head, grinning right back at me.

In all, just a moment of time, barely noticeable to the passing patrons, and she was laughing as she swung her hips into the brown upholstery of the booth bench.

“Did you enjoy that?” she laughed, as she slid toward the middle.

“Possibly even more than you,” I answered, adding, “and for the record, you’re something of a tight-ass yourself.”

I got her with that shot, and with her so fair as she was, the blush was a stark contrast, disappearing into the neckline of her denim shirt. I laughed, and she threw a beer-nut at me.

She didn’t speak for a while after that, and my laughter had stifled me, leaving us in a brief and amused quiet until a bow- tied waiter entered our isolation.

I needed a moment to catch my breath, and composed myself as she’d sent the guy off with a request for a few more minutes.

“Drinks, then,” I prompted her, as he left.

“Aye. Drinks,” she answered, looking back at me with a smile. “Scotch for you, but what about me?”

“Actually, I’m something of a martini man, these days. As for you, I’m not sure. The last few times we chatted, you had taken up beer,” I said.

“Get me a Heineken,” she confirmed, gesturing with her chin towards the waiter striding back towards us. I told him our order and he paused to scribble before walking away.

“So are you nervous?” she asked as the waiter left.

“Not even slightly, but kind of, you know?” I shook my head knowing that it wasn’t much of an answer, and tried again.

“I wouldn’t play grab-ass with a stranger,” I told her.

“You’re just a dear friend I’ve never met before. I mean, I might not have been able to pick you out of a line-up, but then that problem wouldn’t exist if you’d just sent me some nudes, like I asked you to! And then showed up naked.”

She chuckled, shaking her head at me. “I take that back, you’re not a tight- ass. You’re incorrigible.”

“I’m sorry, I’m still getting over the shock of the real-life you. You’ve been holding back on me, babe! I’m hurt,” I cried, clutching at my chest. “I’m wounded. More importantly, I’m deprived!”

“You know, I gave you my terms for getting a nude,” she said. “You just never took me up on what was a very fair offer.”

“A gentleman does not mail a picture of his penis to a lady,” I enunciated in a bad British accent. ” Not even an immoral and lusty lady such as yourself.”

“Give it up, you haven’t been much of a gentleman in all the time I’ve known you,” she laughed as a second hurled beer-nut bounced off the creases of the wounded look on my forehead.

“I’m glad you came. I really am,” I said quietly, as her laughter faded.

“Me too, hon. Not being a lying bastard, I can admit that I was thoroughly nervous, and like I said, I wasn’t sure I was going to… but… it’s really weird how comfortable you are.” I did my best stage leer.

“Baby-doll, you don’t even know how comfortable I can be,” I drawled, waggling my eyebrows.

“I liked you better when you were shy,” she said, but smiling. “Now behave for at least a minute while the kid brings our drinks?”

I grinned at her, and she shook her head, and with a curious expression, our waiter placed our drinks on the table.

He asked if we were ready to order, but neither of us had looked at the menu yet. She made a vague gesture as she tipped back the bottle.

“Just get us some bruschetta and the calamari for now so we can nibble and I’ll flag you down if we need anything else,” I told him. He confirmed the order and left.