I watch the white tendrils billow from in between Luke's rosy lips,
wetting my own with a flick of my tongue. The snow flutters, mingling in his eyelashes and generating heat between the two of us as we sit, cross-legged on a bench in the cold of Central Park.
I lean in, breathing in his smoke through my open mouth, and just hovering above his lips. I feel Luke lean forward, skin almost touching, brushing. Pulling back, I smirk at his reaction; desperate eyes, shaky, surprised and chapped lips still grasping for mine.
"I don't think so, darling."
His sky blue eyes shroud, a blanket of darkness cloaking the shallow, outer layer.
"You...you fucking wish!" He exclaims, scratching his head. "You're just a little tease."
I lean into him again, placing my hand on his thigh.
He sucks in an icy breath as my hand slides upwards.
He gives me a warning glare, dark blue fingertips sliding higher on his black skinny jeans.
"Looks like Luke's all hot and bothered, isn't he, baby?"
He hisses at me to stop as my hands quickly flit over his crotch, hooking into his belt loops and pulling his body closer.
I smirk, mentally adoring how nervous and jittery he got when I did this to him in a way I probably shouldn't have. Poor boy.
"Your killing me." He mumbles, breaking from grip and standing from the cold, metal bench.
"Stop messing with me."
"Can't do that."
"Fucking hell, if only you knew how pissed I'd be if it weren't you sitting there."
"I'm apparently of some significance to you, then."
"Yeah...I guess you could say that. You're a fellow expert in disasterology."
I smile to myself, studying him.
Luke's eyebrows knit together, lightly tanned cheeks turning a prominent shade of bright pink.
"Can we go to your van? It's absolutely freezing out here."
"Um, yeah. C'mon..."
I slide off the bench, pulling my coat tighter against my chest as I trail behind Luke. The second right before I place my hand on...