They're beautiful calm oceans, but they glimmer with mischief and possessiveness right now, her gaze signaling what's to come. Emma's hands wander down to his jeans, flashing him a little grin as she unfastens the buttons he'd done up moments before. She wants to make him wait a little longer, so sliding up a little, she runs her nails along his sides, using a kind of pressure that's not enough to hurt or light enough to tickle. It's the kind of touch she loves to deliver, the kind that will not leave not leave a mark upon his skin but he'll feel tingles and a rush of heat there any time he thinks of her today. She wants the memory of here and now to flash through him later. Her tongue circles his torso as her nails move up and down. The soft warmth of her breasts press against that soft sensitive skin where stomach and leg meet. Fingers trail up over his chest to play with his nipples... she wants those moments seared into memory; for Adam to ache with need for her when they. Moreover, she seemed oblivious that passers-by were staring at her, because she was grinning from ear to ear, jumping up and down, and waving at me like a maniac. Finally, the lights at the crossing changed in my favour, and as the traffic ground to a halt amidst a cacophony of blaring horns, I half-staggered, half-ran across the road, dropping my duffle-bag as I threw myself into Aubrey’s open arms. Not caring about the tide of humanity swirling around us, we locked ourselves in an embrace that almost crushed the breath out of our bodies, and exchanged the furious, passionate kiss that we had evidently both been anticipating for several hours. My hands were stroking Aubrey’s back, caressing the length of her spine, while she had the fingers of one hand entwined in my hair, the other stroking the thick fur of my beard. From the perspective of the onlookers, I suppose that it must have looked like the climactic scene of a cheesy romantic comedy: the moment when – having spent the.
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