Free Burned Gasoline by Linda Kage, Isabell Lawless Page A

noticed it too.
                  “Nova is asleep.” She said suddenly, trying to find some composure underneath his close stare, and from the heat radiating off his lips and onto hers.
                  “Good.” He said quietly, observing her every move and muscles with his scrutinizing eyes.
                  “Are you hungry?” She swallowed hard. “I heard the microwave beep just a second ago.”
                  “I’m hungry. For you.”
                  “Oh… okay.”
                  “That’s right. I’ve been thinking about you for a very long time. All day today. How you smell when I’m this close to you, how your breath hitches when I tell you I want you, and how good your tongue tastes when it plays with mine. And all of that is more than okay .”
                  She had no response to that. She simple watched how his eyes traced over her face, down to her lips, and then back up into her eyes. He placed a light kiss on her cheek bone, tickling her skin with his unshaven face, and continued his touch until he reached her earlobe and the skin right beneath it. A short gasp escaped her mouth as his lips softly caressed her.
                  “Mhm, I like that too.” He mumbled. “The way you sound when I happen to touch you just right. Want me to go on?” He asked teasingly, and smiled into the side of her face. Watching her eyelids flutter open to the sudden interruption.
                  “If… only if you want to.” She replied, uncertain of his feelings.
                  “Oh trust me. I want to. Follow me.” He pulled back and away from her legs and grabbed her hand in his, leading her out of the kitchen and into the small laundry room at the side. The steam from the drier had made the room nice and warm, as if embedded by a warm down cover shutting out the cold wind howling outside, now bringing the cold, dark fall season to the grounds.
                  Putting a few blankets on top of the washer, he made her stand right in front of it before he gently pushed her chest down into the softness of the fabric. His upper body followed hers, while his jeans clad crotch was pressing into her behind, and kissed his way up her t-shirt until he found her neck and nuzzled his face into her hair.
                  “It’s Thursday,” he said simply, standing bent over her and the washer. “I’ve heard some people might be excited for Thursdays. I wonder why?”
                  “Thursday is laundry night.” Her breath was faint, and her skin devoured the kisses he placed around the back of her neck and down just inside the top of her t-shirt.
                  “Mhm. So it seems.” His dark voice rumbled through her body like the bass at a rock concert. Then she felt his hands push themselves underneath her t-shirt and unclasped the back of her bra, which had clung tightly to her bosom all day, but the tension of snug fabric around her chest was finally released.
                  “Stand back up.” His soft voice caressed her ear before he pulled her upper body back against his chest. He grabbed a hold of the hem of her t-shirt and pulled with it the bra over her head and dropped it onto the pile of unfolded laundry next to them on a chair.
                  “Back down.” With the same smooth dark voice, he placed a large hand over her naked shoulder blades, and made her fold forward to once again rest her chest on the pile of blankets. This time the blankets underneath her chest saved her naked hard nipples the contact of the cold metal shape of the washing machine.
                  He caressed all of her back under his large hands, squeezing tightly at the top of her shoulders, and she could feel all the tension from the day ripple off her in waves. His touch left her body warm, relaxed, and…