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Luke,”
I said.
    “Its not over, Emma,” Luke replied.
    Erm. Its not? Holy shit!
    “Ask me in.” It wasn’t a question, and I
found myself gaping at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend why
he would want to prolong this any longer.
    I finally forced my lips to move. “Come in?
I…I’m sure I could find a bottle of wine or something…”I trailed
off, not sure exactly what to say. I mean, my cha-chi was
screaming, ‘Yes! Come in! We’re open!’, but there’s no way in hell
that’s what he was thinking. Right?
    Luke followed me through the door into the
living room. I turned to shut the door, locking it behind us out of
habit. As my fingers slipped away from the dead bolt, I became
aware of Luke’s hard heat pressing close behind me. I felt him
lightly stroke the backs of his fingers down my cheek and my breath
caught in my throat. He leaned further into me, pressing me against
the door. My head fell back against his shoulder as I felt his lips
trace the side of my throat before lightly nipping my earlobe.
    “Mmmm…,” Luke whispered in my ear. “You taste
as good as you look.”
    Then, pulling back from me, I heard him walk
further into the room and sit on the couch. I stayed where I was
for a second, trying to convince my legs to work before turning to
look at him. He looked so good lounging on my couch that, for a
second, I contemplated kidnapping him and holding him hostage as my
personal sex slave for the rest of my life.
    “Uh, I’ll get something to drink for us,” I
said before heading towards the kitchen. Luke
    said nothing in reply, just smiled.
    I rummaged absent-mindedly in the cabinet and
in the fridge, finding a half-empty bottle of Ice Wine that I
picked up on my last trip to Put In Bay, and an unopened bottle of
tequila. Shrugging, I grabbed two shot glasses and a lime from the
fridge, making a mental note to pick more up at the store so I
could still make my tequila lime chicken for dinner one night. I
quickly sliced a few wedges from the lime, picked up the salt and
the bottle of tequila, and headed back to the living room, figuring
I’d drown my embarrassment and subsequent confusion in liquor.
    “Shots,” I said, unnecessarily, as I
deposited my load on the coffee table in front of Luke.
    “Alright.” Luke said.
    Leaning forward, Luke poured two shots into
the shot glasses, then picked up the salt shaker, turning to me and
grabbing my hand. His eyes burned into mine as he slowly lifted my
hand to his mouth and I felt the warmth of his breath on my skin
before his tongue touched me in the curve between my thumb and
forefinger. I couldn’t control the small gasp that shot from
between my lips at the unexpected touch.
    He then lightly shook the salt over the
dampness left behind from his mouth (I ignored the granules that
missed my hand and fell into the couch and carpet…well, I told
myself to, anyway) before setting down the shaker, grabbing a lime
wedge and bringing it to my lips. He pressed the cold fruit against
my lips, wordlessly entreating me to take it in my mouth. I held it
gently between my lips, waiting for his next move. He grabbed one
of the shots from the table, pulled my hand to him, licked the salt
from my skin, and tossed back the tequila before sliding his hand
behind my neck and pulling me to him.
    I moaned softly as his lips closed over mine,
tasting the tartness of the lime burst on my tongue as he bit
gently into the fruit before pulling back from my mouth. I opened
my eyes and looked at him in confusion because I still had the lime
wedge in my mouth; he hadn’t taken it. I reached up and removed the
wedge from my lips and before I could even lean forward to place
the spent peel on the table, Luke moved like lightning, drawing me
hard against him and boldly swiping his tongue against the seam of
my lips before sliding inside when I gasped. He kissed me deeply,
and I tasted the tanginess of lime and the tart bite of tequila on
his tongue.
    I dropped the lime