Revisiting old H/hs friends

Thought I'd post an excerpt for a change of pace from my usual (of late)blahblahblahrantrantrant, or jokey stuff. I keep meaning to get back to this ms, these two were so much fun and they're never far from my mind, but this ms was my first attempt at a "suspensey" type subplot and I kinda, uhm, mangled it. lol. Now part of me says 'f*ck it', the story is really about the characters, if the suspense doesn't hold up to closer scrutiny, so be it.

There was also the problem that this was the ms that was sprinkled with those proverbial L'il darlin's. The ones seasoned authors tell you to throw out. That was probably part of the reason I was having so much fun with these two, but on the downside I had a lot of 'fun' scenes with fun dialogue and sizzling sexual tension but not enough substance/drive. :-P *sigh*

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“So after giving me the cold shoulder, you expected me to just walk up to you, did you?” Amusement fanned lines from the outer corners of his eyes. He braced a hand against the rough brickwork of the building beside them and a wave of herbal musk scented the air with his movement. The same cologne he wore the first time they’d met.

Raine swallowed the hmmmm that tickled at her tonsils for escape, tapping her cigarette in a bid to keep twitchy fingers distracted from the need to curl into his hair. “I wasn’t expecting anything from you.”

“Oh no?”

She decided brevity was the soul of omission, “No.”

Winston raised a skeptical brow, his slight smile was cocky.
Oooo, the things that smile did to her. Seemed like every inch of Raine tingled. That would be cubic inch.

But Winston was too damn self-contained for her liking. He was the one who sent the email, came to her club, and followed her out here. She should in the driver’s seat. So why did she feel so out of control? And why was a small part of her loving the feeling? Raine already knew the answer to that. She stepped back. He followed.

“Besides, you just walked up to me right now. What’s the difference?”

“Not much.” Winston raised his hand; it hovered, not quite touching her, but real close. Close enough to have the air between turn static like the coming of a storm; anticipation of his touch zinged along her skin with electric prescience. “I was biding my time in the club, but you left before I was ready.”

Finally, she shuddered slightly with a repressed sigh, finally...he touched her; a finger trailed down the side of her face, stopping at the corner of her mouth—-whose tremble Raine couldn’t control. Then he traced another tender path along the other side of her face; a sliding caress downward that ended, hooked under her heavy gold choker.

“So, now that I’ve come to you, the only significant difference is...” Winston’s his voice dipped deeper as he pressed a knuckle with gentle force against her racing pulse, “We’re all alone.”

The softly spoken hypnotic words sent tiny fragmented shivers spiking down her spine. Raine looked over his shoulder at people and the cars going by just a few feet away, not that she was afraid...not in that way.

“Don’t look there. They don’t matter.” Winston let go of the collar and captured her hand, weaving his fingers in between hers. Inexplicitly she felt safer, then just as inexplicitly threatened.

Palm pressed against palm, he enveloped her; his hardness fitted to her grip—-smooth and large into small and delicate. Perfect. She’d known it would feel this way. And so would the rest of what they would do together, and to each other.

And that was exactly what Raine was afraid of. Because she knew that perfect wasn’t a cure, it was a drug and pain was its addiction.

“There’s just you and me,” he said, lowering his arm from the wall to take hold of her other wrist. “Bad habit.” Winston nodded towards the butt in her hand.

“I quit.” Raine dropped the cigarette.

“Do you quit all your habits so easily?”

“No, not all,” she said, the bitter truth scraping her tongue. “Some habits you can’t quit.” Now that her fingers were free of other occupation, she lifted the hand towards him, and endured the sweet long caress his palm sliding the length of her arm from wrist to bare shoulder.

Raine touched the crisp cotton of his shirt; let her hand smooth under the cool weave of his tie to slip between buttons and then between cloth and skin. He was solid, and hot, and hairless. Felt like silk pulled tight over heated marble. His heart pulsed steady beneath her touch, but it was beating hard.

“I think I’d like to be that type of habit.” Winston came closer, until only the spread of her hand trapped against his chest separated them.

“What type?” Raine murmured.

“The type you can’t quit.” His head was bending....

“Hmmm, a bad one.” She liked the sound of that.

“So bad, it hurts.”

Even better.

When Winston’s lips met hers full on, Raine didn’t even bother playing coy. And she wasn’t about to do that capitulation thing either. He didn’t seem to mind.

Straight off, it was pure synchronicity the way they got it right, with nobody wasting time as mouths opened the same second tongues partnered, sliding and twining and coaxing. Then the tiny suckles started, to the tongue, the bottom lip and the top one too. First his turn then hers and back again. No order, rhyme or reason. Everything was candy and they were both being greedy.

Winston’s hands slid along her back, up one way and down the other till he was cradling her head and cupping her ass, and his arms had her cocooned in a complete embrace, pressing their bodies together from chest to thigh.

Raine welcomed him in, drew him deep, damn near drank him up. And she gave as good as she got. Arms bound around his neck, fingers twisted into his silky soft hair. Holding him close as close can be while he let her do her thing.

Then as suddenly as they came together they broke apart, but not completely. His hands came to rest on her hips, while her fingers gripped his wide shoulders. All Raine knew was she didn’t want to let go, and judging by Winston’s intense expression, she’d venture he was feeling 'ditto'.

“That was nice,” she managed, trying to catch a breath.

“Agreed.” Winston’s voice came out all rough, and dark. The way a man’s voice can be when he’s hurting and needing and wanting in a sexual way.

It was safe to say, she had now ruffled his feathers.

And then some.

As his bronzy-colored eyes glittered down at her with a wild fire that had its cousin dancing in her belly, Raine squeezed the solid mass of Winston’s shoulders under her grasp. How long had it been since she’d felt this excitement? It was giddy stuff; she wanted to be drunk with it.

“So, where do we take it from here?”

“Any place you want,” Winston said; then—- “Tonight?”

Tonight? Her legs trembled at the thought. In her mind she was instantly there, at the moment when they would be alone, no people walking by, no clothes, no inhibitions. Only sheets and bare skin. But she wanted him. Now. Because ‘tonight’ was too far away.

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Here's another excerpt from this wip I posted previously.