Free Intaglio: Dragons All The Way Down by Danika Stone Page B

care
how it works,” she gasped, squirming under Cole’s roving hand.  “I just know it
does.”
    : : : : : : : :
: :
    It was a Friday
night in early February, and Cole and Ava were staying in Frank and Nina's
guest suite.  The Spring weather was blustery, and with the pressure change,
Nina had developed a migraine.  After dinner, she and Frank had retired to bed,
leaving Ava and Cole to fend for themselves.
    Coastal suburbia
was dead for a Friday. After a late supper at the downtown pizzeria, the two of
them came back for the night.  They tiptoed up the stairs, laughing like
teenagers before climbing into bed, listening to gusts of wind around the
eaves.  Ava lay on her stomach on the bed, bare feet propped on her pillow,
flipping through television channels.  Behind her, Cole lay propped up against
the headboard, a black notebook in hand.
    “What’cha
doing?” Ava asked, twisting to look over her shoulder at him.  He’d been
scribbling steadily for the last twenty-five minutes, pages turning one after
the other.  Cole glanced up, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
    “Well, if you’d
strip down, I’d offer to sketch you... but since you’re wearing too many
clothes, I’m doing some work instead.”
    The scratching
of the pen returned.  Ava flipped through a few more channels, her curiosity
growing. The figure drawing suggestion had some merit, she had to admit.  It
was nice having her dad back in town but his presence had put a damper on
Cole’s visits.  The dorm was no better.  His next door neighbour had given her
lascivious looks the two times he’d run into her leaving.  Ava was definitely
too loud for Cole’s bedroom. 
    She rolled
sideways, propping herself up on an elbow to watch him. 
    “What kind of
work are you doing?” she asked, nudging his ribs with her toe.  He smirked,
catching her foot.
    “Writing,” he
admitted, rubbing his thumb along her instep and making her giggle.  She
squirmed until he let go, turning onto her back, her hands now behind her
head.  The minute his pen dropped back to the page, her toes prodded him.  He
kept his eyes on the sketchpad, ignoring her.
    “Okay,” she said
with a grin, “I’ll play.  What kind of writing, Cole?” 
    Her toes wiggled
against his armpit, moving lower until they hit a particularly sensitive spot
and he jumped, snickering.  The book dropped and she could see the lines of
text filling the white pages.
    “Writing for
Marta,” Cole admitted, reaching out and pulling her up the bed, so that her
hips were now next to his.  The fingers of his free hand dropped down to her
waist, finding the seam between her top and yoga pants, working underneath.  He
propped his book against his knees, writing once more.
    “Marta, huh?”
Ava said, eyes narrowing.  “Should I be jealous?”
    Cole snorted,
fingers of one hand tugging at her waistband while he continued to write.  The
pauses between scribbles were growing longer.
    “Depends...”
Cole said, grey eyes taunting her, “what would you do if you were jealous? 
Hmmm....?” 
    Ava began to
squirm as he got hold of the top of her pants, pulling on one side roughly,
exposing her panties, then sliding over to the other hip and doing the same
thing.
    “I dunno,” Ava
admitted, a line of irritation between her brows.  “What does she look like?”
    Cole glanced
away as if remembering.  Meanwhile, the fingers of his free hand slid her pants
lower until they were puddled next to him.  His other hand was still poised on
the paper, but no longer writing.
    “She has long
dark hair,” he said.  “Really nice hair, actually.  And brown eyes.”  He
smirked.  “Very pretty.”  
    Ava scowled as
Cole slid his hand up her calves, inching toward her thighs.  She crossed her
arms, holding in the urge to sigh.
    “Hmmph,” she
grumbled.  “Do I know her?”
    Cole chuckled as
his fingers reached the silken edge of her panties and began teasing back and
forth, sliding along the