Okay, you all get to finally see Hugh and Lucy together. This chapter took so long to finally come together, but I'm so happy with it, and I love having Hugh and Lucy finally get it on. I want to thank MrWhiteTiger and autoplot, as always. You both made it so much better, and thanks again T. for your wonderful comments. It meant a lot, and I'm glad you got to see it first before I posted. To all my readers, the next chapter will be a bit in coming, but hopefully soon. Enjoy this for now.~MJ
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She sat on one of his luxurious sofas, sipping a decadent cup of French roast coffee as she watched him take the vinyl record out of its protective sleeve and set it carefully on the turntable. His movements were measured and she watched in fascination as he brushed stray dust off the disk before carefully setting the needle on the spinning edge. Crackly static sounded for a moment before the soft, sweet, muted trumpet of a "It Never Entered My Mind" by Miles Davis floated out of the well placed speakers. The music filled the room as if the sound was from all over. She closed her eyes as gooseflesh covered her skin. Music was a balm to her. It could fix every wrong and enhance every right. To have it all around her was an exquisite feeling. Her lashes fluttered open as he settled himself next to her and pulled her close.
"I take it you like the music choice," he stated.
"Mmm. I do. This happens to be one of my favorites of his." She sighed happily as she snuggled closer, enjoying the feel of his fingers brushing up and down her silk-covered arm. Thoughts of the earlier part of the evening washed over her.
She'd found his home easily, sitting on the bluff of the river that overlooked the city, and thought how unique it was that they hadn't crossed paths before. Modern was definitely the theme to Hugh's home, and she had seen and admired it many times, wishing she could see the interior. Clean lines, very straight and geometric. Windows everywhere. The whole house seemed to be made up of windows. Even the ceiling had massive windows; not skylights, but actual pane windows somewhat indicative of a greenhouse.
The bottom floor was very open with the sitting area directly under the center expanse of ceiling windows. The focal point of the room though, was a stunning set of freestanding, straight-flight stairs that enhanced the double height living area. Open walkways and balconies kept the look of clean lines.
At first glance, she had thought it would be cold and unfriendly with all the open space and white everything, however there were walls filled with books, while others had amazing paintings and artwork. Everything was hung in an eclectic manner that broke up the wide spaces. Lush potted ferns and other large, green houseplants were scattered around the room. There were even a couple pots of bright red anthurium bracketing one of the sofas. A glass coffee table held stacks of architectural books and a few scattered magazines, all vying for space, seemingly trying to shove the bowl of rusty chrysanthemums out of the way.
He had shown her around the downstairs: his up to date kitchen in stainless steel, drafting tables scattered with designs tucked into well-lit spots. It was all pretty amazing. He didn't show her the upstairs, but she could see that everything opened up to the walkway around the center living space. Doors were not solid, but made of pane glass and the lights from the city twinkled as they went through all the sets of glass.
Dinner had been amazing: a pasta primavera, crusty french bread, and a lovely Malbec. She had enjoyed watching him prepare everything, slightly amazed that he was so comfortable in the kitchen. She enjoyed fixing meals, but usually she was harried and easily flustered. He was not.
To top off the rich meal, he had tempted her with a flourless chocolate cake, holding out a forkful, but by that point, she didn't have any more room. All she could consider was the coffee and even that was pushing the limits.
Now that she was next to him, with his apparent fascination with her skin, she felt like she was floating. Every touch sent a tingle up her arm to settle somewhere low in her belly. She knew what he was doing. She knew he was seducing her with his cooking, his conversation, and now his touches.
"Did I lose you?" His question brought her back to the present.
Lucy laughed. "No." She set her coffee down and arched a brow at him. He laughed softly and tugged her back next to his side, sliding his hand up her arm to her neck where he pushed her hair out of the way. Before she knew what he was up to, his mouth was brushing along the exposed skin.
She shivered in pleasure and tipped her head in encouragement. The feel of his lips on her skin was luscious. If there was one place a man could kiss her and turn her to putty, it was her neck. Apparently Hugh was having no trouble understanding this as his kisses became open mouthed and slowed till he was tasting her skin in abandonment. His nose brushed along her hairline and she shivered.
"I like how your face powder smells," Hugh murmured.
"How in the world do you smell that?" Lucy tried to turn and look at him, but he kept her there and brushed his lips across her cheek.
"I smell the clove. My sister wears the same thing." He dragged mouth back down to her neck and kissed her again.
It was too much. It wasn't enough. She pulled away roughly and turned towards him, her fingers clutching handfuls of his navy pullover as she tugged him closer.
"You're teasing me to insanity," Lucy growled, feeling very feline and domineering.
"That is the point," he answered back. He leaned in and brushed her lips with his, but pulled back before she could respond. He chuckled at her low growl of disapproval, but he softened the disappointment by gripping her waist and tugging her over his lap to straddle his legs. "Better?"
She replied by cupping his jaw in her hands and pressing her mouth to his. As his mouth opened up under hers, she settled against him, her arms draping over his shoulders, her body fitting against his.
God, his kisses were addictive. The way he moved his hands up her back, stroking and gripping, finally sliding up into her hair to cup her neck and hold her against his mouth. His mouth was firm one moment, soft the next, his lips sipping hers before diving back in and demanding entrance to her mouth. When his tongue slid inside, she melted against him. It was all consuming. Her body was on fire and deliciously aroused. It had been ages since she'd felt this way.
He left her breathless and vibrating, a slight shiver sliding down her back, turning to a shudder as his hands pulled her ivory, silk blouse from her charcoal-grey, wide-legged trousers and slid his hands against her skin.
"Are you cold?" he murmured against her neck. His hands were hot on her waist and she shuddered again.