Page 6

“Oh, good.” Florence grins. The universe really is on her side today. Luca’s eyes are still on her as she sets about undoing the buttons of her blouse.

“Can I . . . ?” Luca asks, stepping closer.

Florence’s hands drop to her sides. She can’t help the shiver that goes through her as Luca takes up the task, fingertips brushing the hollow of Florence’s throat as she works. She has large hands with long, slender fingers and that same dusting of freckles that her entire body seems to be covered in. There’s a small, concentrated furrow between her brows. Her throat bobs with a swallow when Florence shrugs, letting the fabric slide from her shoulders.

“Your turn?” she asks.

Luca reaches for the hem of her shirt, but Florence beats her to it. “What kind of workout were you doing earlier?” she asks as she slides it up. The freckles continue across Luca’s belly and all the way up her chest, disappearing beneath a black sports bra.

“Arms,” Luca responds. “Why?”

Florence says nothing, her mouth dry as she pulls the shirt over Luca’s head and lets it drop to the ground. Luca’s shoulders are broader than Florence’s, her arms clearly toned. Her belly is soft, with a dusting of light hair leading down the front of the boxers that are peeking out of her jeans.

Florence wants, with a sudden and frenzied urgency, to put her mouth on every inch of Luca’s body.

“Are you all right?” Luca asks when the silence drags on. She’s shifting on her feet again, hands fiddling with the small leather bracelet on her wrist.

In response, Florence unhooks her own bra.

Things move faster after that. Their clothes pile up on the floor as they hastily undress, until Florence is walking Luca over to the bed. Luca doesn’t look away from her once, even as the backs of her knees hit the edge of the mattress and she sinks down, resting on her elbows while Florence crawls into the space between her thighs. The hair on her unshaven legs is golden and downy. Her breasts are smaller than Florence’s, dusky nipples already pebbled from the chill.

At the same time that Florence notices these things, she’s acutely aware of Luca watching her in turn. She angles her body slightly where she’s kneeling between Luca’s legs, pleased when a drop of rain falls from her soaked curls and trails aesthetically down the side of her breast.

Florence should really do this more often. She likes the thrill of a one-night-only performance, likes playing seductress and finding out what makes someone tick, likes rifling through her chest of tricks that she’s picked up from other people. Most of all, she likes being looked at the way Luca is doing right now, her eyes dark and her lips parted as she tracks the raindrop’s journey down Florence’s body.

“You’re so hot,” Florence says, pressing a kiss to Luca’s collarbone, still clammy from the rain. “What do you like?”

“I. Um.” Luca stares up at her, dazed. “Anything.”

“Anything?” Florence echoes. Smiling, she kisses the base of Luca’s throat. Her skin is feverishly warm under Florence’s mouth. “That’s a lot of options.”

“I have, um.” Luca’s brows furrow, as though she has to focus in order to string together the next words. “There’s some stuff in my bedside table.”

“Is that so,” says Florence. She has to lean over Luca in order to pull open the drawer. One of Luca’s hands settles on the small of her back to steady her as she does.

Florence can feel her blood thrumming in her veins as she takes in the small array. There’s a handful of dental dams; a dark blue bullet vibrator; a half-empty bottle of lube; and a strap-on, black silicone and a harness nestled at the very back of the drawer. The idea of Luca using any of these things, in this very bed, makes her breath catch.

She leans back to look at Luca. “You have no preference at all?”

Luca, ears an interesting shade of pink, shakes her head. “I’m fine with anything.”

Florence dips her head to hide her grin. She didn’t expect Luca, with her swaggering walk and crooked smile, to turn shy and quiet once they’re in the bedroom. It’s more endearing than it has any right to be.

“Want me to pick?” Florence asks.

Luca nods, melting back into the sheets with something like relief.

“All right. How about . . .” Florence dances her fingers over the toys in the drawer. She lingers on the strap-on, but in the end, it’s the bullet vibe that she reaches for. “This?”

“Yeah,” Luca breathes.

“Is it fully charged?”

“I . . . I don’t remember.”

“Hmm.” Grinning, Florence presses the on button. The toy starts to buzz in her hand, tingly against her palm even on its lowest setting. “Let’s hope it is, or this is going to be frustrating.”

This close, Florence can hear the click of Luca’s throat as she swallows. Oh, she thinks. They’re going to have so much fun.