Right Place, Wrong Time

57. The Perfect Night

After Joey settled the bill away from the table so Lauren couldn't even try to pay, they headed back out to her car, his arm around her waist. It was still light outside, but the sky was a deep blue as the sun started its descent past the horizon.

"Thank you," she said, leaning her head against him.

"For what?" he asked.

"This date. It was perfect."

He smiled down at her. "Thank you for coming."

She rolled her eyes a little at that, but he still couldn't believe he got to go on a real date with her, and he was sure he would never take it for granted.

He opened the car door for her, kissing her as she got in. In the driver's seat, he shut the door, enclosing them in their own little world, and started the engine. It was quiet as he pulled out of the parking lot and merged into the traffic.

It was impossible not to keep looking over at the gorgeous woman sitting next to him, his girlfriend. Mostly at her face, flush with happiness, her smile and her sparkling eyes. But his eyes were drawn, too, to the smooth, perfect stretch of her leg. Sitting in the car, the slit of her dress fell open to the top of her thigh, just enough to reveal the hint of lace underwear. And maybe she hadn't noticed, or maybe she had, but he could reach over and put his hand on her thigh. So. He. Did.

A soft intake of breath. His thumb stroked a rhythm into her skin.

"This dress, Lo," he said in a low voice.

"I thought you'd like it," she said, her own voice a whisper, but he felt it down to his core.

A groan bubbled up in his throat, but he swallowed it down. "You have no idea what it does to me." But it wasn't so much the dress as it was her. It just accentuated every perfect thing about her. Everything that, tonight, he would worship fully, if she wanted him to.

He eyed the speedometer, and tried to get rid of the tension in his body so he could ease his foot off the gas a little.

He wasn't the only one feeling the tension. Lauren's hands shook as she slid the key into the door of her apartment. But her grip was sure as she took his hand and brought him down the hall to her bedroom, closing the door behind them.

For all the build up, the kiss started soft. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands skimmed down her warm back to the cool silk of her dress, bunching as he held her waist. Her tongue brushed his lip and he opened to her, drawing her in. If this was all she wanted, he couldn't have been happier, but then her hands slid down his chest, untucking his shirt from his pants and undoing the buttons from the bottom up before slipping it off him. He reached for the straps of her dress, and she broke the kiss.

"I have buttons too," she murmured.

"You're killing me," he groaned, and she giggled.

He turned her around, tracing a finger down her spine until he reached the buttons. Even as the ache for her grew stronger he took his time with each of the tiny buttons, taking care of the beautiful dress she'd chosen for him. When the final one was undone he turned her back around to slip the straps over her shoulders, letting the dress fall to her waist — no bra.

He drew in a breath through lungs that no longer seemed to know how to function. She bit her lip, shuffling her bare feet, heels already kicked off.

"Oh my god, Lo," he whispered, his voice cracking.

She reached up a hand to cup his cheek, and he laid his over it.

"You are," he said, and leaned down to kiss her gently, "the most beautiful woman." Another kiss. "I've ever seen."