Becoming Rain Page 71

There are no prescriptions of any kind, no embarrassing rash creams, nothing that tells me I should be heading to the doctor for tests. That’s a relief.

As is the fact that I’ve uncovered nothing to use against him in our case.

So, I grab Stanley and head out.

Chapter 37

LUKE

“I can’t believe you’re making me watch this,” I hiss into the dark theater.

She gives me a look of shock. “You’re kidding me, right? There’s blood, carnage. And aliens. What kind of guy doesn’t like aliens?” Her tone is almost accusatory.

I hold my hand up. “I’ve never dated a girl who likes this stuff.”

A sly smile forms on her face. “Are you afraid of scary movies?”

I throw my best “seriously?” game face on. “Me? Come on.” I slept with my light on until I was ten because monsters lived under my bed, waiting for a chance to kill me. The hell if I’m admitting that to Rain, though.

The way she throws buttery popcorn into her wide-grinning mouth tells me she sees right through my lie.

“Shut up.” I lean in to steal the piece from her fingertips about to go into her mouth, licking the salt and butter off her lips on my way. We’re sitting in the back row of a half-empty theater because I insisted and she didn’t complain, and dammit, she’s wearing a short skirt. When I saw which movie she chose, I decided I’d rather be touching her for the next ninety minutes than watching the screen. It’s been four days since the overnight cruise, since I felt the inside of her.

Just thinking about it now—about the feel and smell and taste of her—I’m getting hard.

While a red-eyed alien gnaws on some guy’s face on the giant screen in front of us.

I don’t really care. I’m just happy to be out with her. Turns out that running the garage on my own is exhausting. Miller’s been doing a heck of a lot of work that I don’t know about, while I make my own hours and fuck off at odd hours of the day. I haven’t left the place before nine any night this week. No wonder the guy hates me so much.

Couple that with the added anxiety of relaying orders to fences for the next shipment, and I can barely get a workout in every night, I’m so tired.

I throw my arm over her shoulder and rest my other hand on the inside of her bare thigh, letting my fingers run along silky soft skin. She smiles, plants a kiss on my lips, and mouths, “Watch the movie.” Then her hand drops to hold mine in place, like she knows exactly what I’m intending on doing.

Great.

Forty-five minutes of gore over a deafening sound system later—when I’ve jumped out of my seat at least five times, earning laughs from Rain each time—I finally lean in to admit, “Fine, I’m terrified of aliens. I’m probably going to have nightmares tonight. Are you really going to make me watch the rest of this?”

She rolls her eyes but then smiles. “Alright . . . let’s go.” She reaches over to collect her jacket and purse. I use the opportunity to slide my hand farther up.

It’s so loud in here that I can’t hear her small gasp as my fingers weave under her damp panties, as one finger slips into her, but by the sudden tension in her body and hard swallow in her neck, she wasn’t expecting that.

Though it sure as hell feels like she wants it.

She hasn’t pushed me away yet. She’s too busy scanning the other rows, the corners, and the ceilings for cameras. There are none on us. It’s all safe. Only when she seems to accept that does she ease back into her seat. Her eyes land on mine. Thanks to random flashes from the screen, I can just make out the fire in them.

Finally, she gives me a tiny smile as her thighs fall apart. She lifts her hips up just slightly. I take the access greedily, yanking her panties all the way down until they hit the dirty theater floor. I push her thighs farther apart as I begin working her with more fingers and my thumb, her skirt riding up higher. Fuck, I wish it weren’t so dark in here.

Her jaw’s clenched tight, like she’s trying not to make a sound, not that anyone would hear anything in here. Maybe that’s what spurs me forward, makes my fingers move faster, a little more aggressively, wanting her to lose control. “Come on, Rain . . .” I mumble into her ear, grabbing hold of her lobe with my teeth. “Let me hear you—”

Her hand slaps over my mouth, smothering the rest of my words, a glare of warning in her eyes. Maybe dirty talk embarrasses her? I keep going with a smile, my own blood flowing south. Watching her lips part and her eyes close as she gets more and more wet, as she starts squirming against my hand, until she grabs hold of the back of my head and smashes her lips into mine, smothering any moans that might have erupted as her body spasms around my fingers.

I have no fucking clue what’s happening in the movie anymore, thank God. Right now I’m ready to unzip my fly. I’m hoping Rain will return the favor, but I won’t ask. She seems to read my mind because her hand wanders over my lap, gripping me through my jeans, her thumb flicking the zipper pull.

And then her hand is suddenly gone. She collects her purse and panties from the seat next to her and whispers, “I need to use the restroom. Will you be okay here for five minutes? You know . . . with the scary aliens?” She points up at the screen.

I slap her ass in answer.

My head falling back in complete and utter frustration.

Chapter 38

CLARA

I stare at my flushed face in the restroom mirror, my hands shaking as I process what just happened. What I just let happen.