Thursday. 7:26 P.M. Meeting Hall (aka Miss Patty's).
"So I was thinkin', maybe the fountain could go right next to Pierpont, ya know? Maybe make 'im like a grotto or somethin'. But that it'd put it pretty close to your back door, Doll. Ya think you'd have any problem with the noise from the waterfall if I got Morey to put it there?"
"Uh huh," Lorelai murmured, looking back over her shoulder towards the big sliding doors of the dance studio. She put a hand on her neck and massaged the crick developing there. She'd looked backwards so many times, watching for him, that her neck was starting to hurt.
"No? You don't want me to put it there?" Babette sounded miffed.
"What?" Confused, Lorelai swung her head back around and looked at her neighbor.
Babette studied her for a moment, then cackled with insight. "Never mind, Doll. You just keep watchin' for that hunk o' man of yours. I'll talk to you about gardenin' when you don't have somethin' sexy on your mind!"
"Oh, Babette, no, that's not ―" But from her seat in the row ahead of Lorelai, Babette gave her a grin and a wink, and turned back around, leaning against Morey with a contented sigh.
The truth was, Lorelai was waiting for Luke. She had a seat saved for him right next to her. She thought for sure he'd be here. That was why she'd bypassed the diner and hurried through Patty's blue door instead. Now she was having second thoughts. As much as the town meetings provided comic fodder for her, her diner man provided much, much more.
Taylor stepped up to take his place at the podium and panic rushed through her. She decided to hightail it out before he could start his long-winded summary of Stars Hollow events. She grabbed for her purse stowed under her seat but then heard the sound of the door being rolled shut.
"Luke, you'd think that with all of the years you've lived here, you'd be able to calculate the travel time necessary to arrive before I've called the meeting to order." Taylor's voice was dripping with disapproval.
Cool relief washed through her as she swiveled in her seat, confirming Luke's just-in-time appearance.
"Shut up, Taylor. At least I'm here." The spiteful glare aimed at Taylor cut off when he caught sight of her. He hurried over to the side aisle and moved to take the seat beside her.
She tucked her hands under her thighs to stop herself from any inappropriate sampling as he shuffled past her knees to get to the empty seat. But she looked. Oh, my yes, she looked.
He sat down and suddenly the spot next to her was filled with heat and breath and a clean, spicy scent. He looked over at her, a smoldering smile on his lips and another type of fire in his eyes. Her heart was thundering. It seemed so illicit, getting to sit together in public like this. She put her hand on his leg, right above his knee, thrilled to know she got to do that now.
"Thought maybe you weren't coming," she whispered, leaning in to him.
He looked at her, acknowledging the dirty right there in her words, and they both grinned. Not yet, they were both thinking. They looked straight ahead, trying to get their juvenile smirking under control.
He put his arm along the back of her chair. "Just got held up," he whispered back.
She caught the clean scent of him again. She put her hand to the back of his neck, her fingers feeling the still-damp hair beginning to curl there. She moved her head closer to his ear, her nose touching and rubbing against the top of it. "Did you shower?" she whispered, her lips touching his skin as they moved. "You smell good."
She felt the tremor go through him. "Maybe," he murmured, trying to keep his eyes focused on the front of the room.
It was impossible to follow whatever was going on in the meeting. Her mind was too occupied with the man beside her, dressed in a dark blue polo shirt that emphasized his strong shoulders and gave just a tantalizing glimpse of that tattoo on his arm. The buttons were open, showing off just a hint of that sexy chest. It was tucked down by a belt her fingers were just itching to unbuckle. And that wasn't even taking into consideration the jeans that had been perfectly molded into his shape after so many repeated wearings.
"You look really nice," she observed, leaning into him again. She stretched out her fingers on his leg, lightly massaging. Her little finger found the inseam along his thigh, tracing it as far as she could reach.
His hand that had been behind her came up to caress her shoulder, bared by her sleeveless top. His eyes traveled over the aqua capris that fit her like a second skin and snagged briefly on the way her green-and-aqua top was tied snugly over her bare midriff. His hand moved from her shoulder to her face, pulling her closer to him so he could whisper back.
"You look good, too." His gaze settled on her top button while his fingers lightly played with her hair. "I bought eggplant today."
She had limited success in smothering her giggle. "You didn't!"
He nodded, his fingers lazily stroking her neck, her cheek, reaching her ear through her hair. "I did. Don't know what I'm going to do with the damn things, but I had to have 'em."
"I've had eggplant Parmesan a few times. That's pretty good," she suggested.
His shoulders shrugged against her. "I can find a recipe." He gave her a squeeze.
Again, they tried to focus on the meeting.
She felt Luke scanning the crowd. "Where's Rory?" he whispered to her, his hand softly spanning her neck again.
"She didn't want to come." Worry about her daughter knocked the sexual tension level down a few pegs. "She's still worried everybody's talking about her."
His arm slipped down her shoulders again, this time offering protection with his embrace. "It'll pass," he promised.
"Hope so." She gave him a small smile before leaning against him with a sigh. Her hand slipped upwards on his thigh as she shifted her position. The sexual tension shot right back up to the red alert level.
This time it was his mouth that was right up against her ear. "You didn't come to the diner today." Even at a whisper, his voice was husky with need.
She shook her head, trying to swallow past the huge lump of desire. "Sorry. My body's all messed up. I slept when I should have been up, and I was wide awake when I should have been asleep."
He turned towards her a little bit more, and his arm pressed her tight against him. She could feel his strength and the strength of his craving for her. "Maybe I can straighten your body out," he suggested, the growl in his whisper making her insides quiver. "Maybe I know just the thing your body needs."
"Luke! Luke Danes! Are you just going to sit there and let this continue?"
They both jumped as if they'd been scalded. Her hand flew up his leg and smacked him in the chest.
It was Jackson who was standing, looking at Luke balefully. "We depend on you to be the watchman on this sort of thing, you know."
"Yeah," Gypsy piped up. "Stop making kissy faces at Lorelai and do your civic duty!"
Lorelai moved a little further away from Luke, but she could feel him breathing hard. "Why me?" he snapped, instantly on the defensive.
"Because it's what you do, dear," Miss Patty pointed out. "Taylor tries to decree some harebrained scheme and we depend on you start the resistance movement. Your rant gets everyone else rallied. It's what we've been conditioned to expect. You don't rant, and the rest of us don't know what to do."
Sookie stood up, joining her irritated husband. "It's true, Luke. We pretty much need your opposition to show us the two sides of the story. You don't object, and we think, well, maybe it's not such a bad plan after all."
"It's a bad plan!" Jackson waved his arms about wildly. "Trust me, it's a monumentally bad plan!"
"It might not be that bad," Andrew ventured.
Gypsy zeroed in on him. "Really? You want to spend your Saturday at the lake, picking up pop bottles and dog poop?"
Lulu turned around in her chair. "We all enjoy the lake. It's only fair that we all have a hand in making sure it remains a beautiful resource for the community."
"Easy for you to say!" Jackson thundered at her. "You're not a business owner! Your name's not on Taylor's list of people who have to pitch in!"
"You can't talk to my girlfriend that way!" Kirk blustered, but sat down quickly when Jackson glared at him.
"My name's not on the list, but I'd be happy to pitch in," Lulu said, her voice the mix of pleasant and stern that made third-graders listen to her. "Maybe instead of Taylor presenting a list of names and times when people have to be there, he should let the public volunteer. I know that the Boy Scouts would be willing to work, and probably the PTA, too. I think a lot of people would come out to help."
"Exactly." Andrew was nodding. "I'd be happy to bring some trash bags and I could work anytime after 4. But I can't be there at 10. That's my busiest time of day."
"I'm not pickin' up other people's dirt," Gypsy muttered. "But I'll drive over in my truck a couple of times during the day and take the trash to the dump."
Miss Patty stood up, looking over the assembled townspeople. "All in favor of cleaning up the lake two Saturdays from now, but on our own time schedule, raise your hands."
"You can't just ―" Taylor sputtered.
Everyone raised their hands. Luke and Lorelai looked at each other, shrugged, and then slowly raised their hands, joining the rest of the town.
"Motion carries," Miss Patty proclaimed.
"That's my job!" Taylor griped. "Oh, very well. Motion carries."
Luke and Lorelai looked at each other again, smiling. They sat back in their seats, leaving a few empty inches between them, and for the rest of the meeting tried very hard to actually listen to the town's business instead of their own yearning hearts.
Lorelai thought that 'meeting adjourned' were two of the most beautiful words she'd ever heard.
"Walk me home?" she asked Luke, sounding almost shy.
"I'll walk you home," he agreed, his hand once more running up and down her bare arm.
He took her hand and they made their way to the door, oblivious to the conversations their friends were having all around them.
All they were aware of was that they had a few brief minutes to finally be together.
Thursday evening. 8:23 P.M. At the Crapshack.
"Do you want to come in?" Lorelai asked. The walk home had gone much too quickly, even though she'd tried to dawdle. They were already standing in front of her porch, their hands still clasped together.
Luke's eyes flicked over the windows, lit up from the television playing inside. "I'd better not. Lane's running things, and I told her I wouldn't be too long."
"Sure. Right. I understand," she mumbled, quickly running through possible scenarios in her head. Her daughter was right inside. Too awkward to kiss Luke goodnight in there. Babette and Morey had ambled home just ahead of them, so she knew chances were good that her neighbor was looking out her front window right now, waiting to catch them in a clinch. She looked around, trying to find some way to give Luke the goodnight kiss she craved.
Her eyes hit on the garage. Bingo.
"Come with me," she urged him, pulling on his hand. "Tell me if you can fix this."
She heard his long-suffering sigh; felt his resistance as he followed her. "I really don't have time for this right now. Can't it wait?"
She dropped his hand and started to tug on the ancient door. He didn't move to help, and she turned to glare at him. "You can be so dense sometimes, you know?"
He looked at her, confused, and then it suddenly all made sense. "Oh. Oh!" He stepped in front of her and pushed open the door in no time.
They stepped into the gloomy building, breathing in the dust they had stirred up. Lorelai quickly pulled the door shut behind them. Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she stepped around the piles of accumulated junk and reached the window above what had probably been a workbench at one time. She pushed it open, even though the rusty hinges protested. Carefully she made her way over to the other side of the building, opening that window as well. A heavenly cool cross-breeze instantly wove through, making the space seem more welcoming.
She turned and found out that Luke was right behind her. He pulled her against him, and she let her bones melt into him.
They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the closeness. Just enjoying the fact that they were together and could touch each other. Just appreciating the way they fit together.
They turned their faces to each other. Mouths met and opened. Tongues caressed. Heartbeats increased.
As if by mutual agreement they broke apart. This was supposed to be just a goodnight kiss, after all. No need to make themselves too crazy. Even though his thumbs were working themselves in under the material on her bare shoulders. Even though her hands had slid down his back, over the speedbump of his belt, and were now cupping themselves around the firm roundness of his ass. They had control. They could stop.
Maybe talking would help.
"Sometimes I still can't believe you're home," she told him, pulling in breath at the end of the sentence. She really couldn't control the way her fingers continued to grasp at his body. "I wake up in the mornings, and I worry I've made this all up, that it's all just more dreams of the sexually deprived."
"What dreams?" He caught the back of her head in one hand, tipping her back slightly. His other hand felt over her cheek; caressed her neck; slid gently over the swell of her breast.
She gasped again, wanting his hand to stay put on her, wanting him to find her tingling nipple. "Dreams. You know. While you were in Maine. Dreams about what it would be like when you finally came back."
He smiled, his hand cupping just under her breast and squeezing the sides, but not centering in on where she needed it most. "Did you think it would be like this?"
"No," she whispered, glad that there was enough moonlight washing in through the window behind them that she could see his face; glad she could see the yearning making his jaw tighten. "I figured we'd be good together, but I never imagined this totally out-of-control sex thing we've got going on here."
He tipped her head back further and put his mouth to her neck, helping himself to a good taste of her. He stopped when she whimpered, putting his forehead against her. "You missed me, when I was gone?" His voice was ragged.
"So much." Her hands continued to rub the denim on his behind that was keeping her from his skin.
"You thought about me? Thought about ― this?" His hand squeezed upward, his thumb finally finding her hard nipple through the two layers of fabric.
"Yes! Oh, yes!" She closed her eyes, pulling him closer to her as she reveled in the sensations shooting down to her center. "I thought about you everyday you were gone. Everyday for seven long weeks I thought about this."
"Really?" He stopped, and her eyes flew open to see him frowning slightly. "We'd only had those few kisses at the Dragonfly."
"They were good kisses," she panted. "Really good kisses. Don't sell yourself short," she admonished him.
His mouth tilted up in that sexy smile of his. "They were good kisses." He pulled her against him and his hands ran over her back; cupped her ass. "I might have been thinking about you while I was in exile up in Maine, too."
"Yeah?" She pushed a hand between them; located the huge, hard bulge in his jeans and put pressure there. "Were you this hard, thinking of me then?" she asked, teasing, but her voice all hoarse with desire.
He blew out a sound that might have been a curse, and then he somehow found a way to fit his hand down the front of her capris. "I don't know. Were you this wet?"
She threw her head back, unable to control her body's reaction to his questing hand. Her legs parted, frantic for him, and his finger slipped up into her.
"Jesus, Lorelai." His voice was strained and awed as his finger easily slid in and out of her. "You're so wet. You're so wet."
"Everyday." She threw the tormented words against his ear. She was having a difficult time massaging the hardness of him; it kept expanding out of her reach. "Everyday I think of you, and everyday I'm this wet. Everyday I can't wait for you to fill me up."
He groaned in agony and pulled his hand out of her pants. His fingers grasped at her waistband, opening the button there. He rushed the zipper open and then peeled the material down her legs, taking the lacy bikini panties along for the ride. His hand pressed over her mound, his thumb pushing through and sliding against the moist, distended flesh there that was begging for him.
"Stop. Stop!" She put her hands on his hips and pushed, moving away from his pleasuring finger.
"Stop? Are you crazy?" He grabbed at her, but she dodged, breathing harder than ever.
She put her trembling fingers to work on unbuttoning her summer top. "I want all of it Luke, not just that." Her chin jutted downward as she continued to undress, her fingers now working on the knot tied over her stomach.
He stood still and watched, his mouth hanging open as he panted slightly. It closed and he reached for her again when her hands went behind her back, undoing her bra clasp.
She stepped back. "Nuh-huh," she grunted, pointing to his still-clothed body. She dropped her bra, challenging him.
He groaned again, drinking in her naked body there in the moonlight. In one motion he grasped his shirt and yanked it over his head.
Lorelai came over and tried to help with the belt buckle, but he batted her away. "I'm faster," he claimed.
"We'll have to see about that," she disputed, her eyes focused in on all of his hard glory as it was revealed to her. Her hand clamped around as much of him as she could get. This time, they both groaned.
His arms wrapped around her and he nearly lifted her up. The feel of his length pressed against her was almost more than she could bear.
Again she pushed away. "We need … There's got to be … I think …" She padded quickly over to a corner of the garage.
"Where are you going?" Luke beseeched her, not happy.
She'd found the old hammock that used to be in the backyard when Rory was still a little girl reading fairy tales. "Help me," she implored, trying to pull the rusty frame towards the middle of the floor.
His strength moved the hammock easily, tugging it into a puddle of moonlight. Lorelai bent over it, using her arms to dust off the sun-roughened canvas. She didn't want to come face-to-face with an eight-legged beastie while she was in the throes of passion.
Luke's voice sounded like he was at his breaking point. "You have no idea what it does to me when you bend over like that." He moved behind her and cupped her ass again, his hands pulling her apart slightly. He skimmed over the line that separated her, his finger continuing on through the wetness puddled at her entrance, and finally reaching her clit again, sliding over and over it.
She leaned her elbows down onto the canvas, offering herself up further to him. "And you have no idea how that feels to me; your finger ― God! ― and then the breeze finding how wet I am."
He stopped and gently pushed against her, maneuvering her so that he could help her lay back on the hammock. He pulled her legs up and then pushed them apart, admiring her as she lay completely open to him in the moonlight.
He stood beside the hammock at her shoulder, facing her feet. He bent over her, his mouth eagerly covering the space between her legs. She nearly leapt up, but he pushed down on her hips, holding her in place.
The whiskers on his chin rubbed back and forth on the upper part of her. His bottom lip worked on the most sensitive part of her, while his tongue and the rest of his mouth licked over and around her opening. Soon she felt like she was on the verge of exploding at any moment.
She managed to put up her hand and found him. She ran her fingers around the length of him, squeezing and rubbing him, her thumb running over and over the silky tip of him.
He finally tore his mouth away from her. "Stop it," he begged. "Stop. I can't stand any more of that."
"I can't stand it either." She writhed on her back. "Please Luke. Enough. I want you in me."
He looked like he was going to argue for a split second, then changed his mind and attempted to join her on the hammock. His mouth fell to her nipple and he sucked her mindlessly, while his legs tried to find space between hers. But it was just no use. There was no way the hammock was going to accommodate his long legs.
"Move," she ordered tenderly. She scrambled up as soon as he did, and pushed his back down onto the canvas. She put her hands on the wooden dowel that was sewn into the end of the hammock and swung herself up on top of him. She kissed him desperately then, her hands running everywhere on him.
"Oh." She got his attention and pointed to where he was pressed up against her, the tip of him snaking up way past her belly button. "Are we really going to be able to make all of that fit in me?" She was teasing him, sure, but in some way she was actually concerned at the size of him tonight. The thought of him all pushed up in her was exciting beyond belief.
"Oh, yeah." His voice was ready to shatter. He pulled her to him; kissed her deeply. "We'll make it fit. I promise." He raised her hips over him, and then started to pull her down, beginning their slow journey of fulfillment.
"See? Told you," he gasped out, as she finally settled tight against him.
"I'll never doubt you again," she said huskily, immediately pushing herself back up to begin the trip down on him all over again.
The hammock swung back and forth as they found their rhythm. The cool summer breeze picked up their grunts of pleasure and whirled them around the garage. The light from the moon glossed over their bodies as they worked to find the perfect spot for both of them.
Luke found it first. His hips arched up off the hammock, pushing up into her with abandon as he let the sensations from her body completely overwhelm him. He moaned and shut his eyes, lost to everything but his release.
Lorelai watched him, fascinated. She delayed her pleasure, watching his play out over him instead. When he calmed and opened his eyes, looking at her with such tenderness, she leaned up over him, kissing him for all she was worth.
The slight change in position was all that she needed. She rubbed herself against him, her inner muscles working on his hardness still inside of her. Her head tipped to the roof as she shuddered and shook around him, the waves of joy washing over her body.
She collapsed on top of him and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. They snuggled together, trying to fight the contented drowsiness coming from their suddenly lax muscles.
"That was more than a kiss goodnight," Lorelai observed.
Luke chuckled, and she smiled against his chest. "Although I wouldn't mind saying goodnight like that every night," he suggested.
She giggled and sat up to say something more, but a noise made her pause. Things seemed to be moving oddly. For just a fraction of a second, she thought it was an earthquake. Then she realized the old, rotted canvas was giving way beneath them. She grasped the wooden dowel again, trying to keep herself from plummeting down on top of Luke.
"Ow," Luke said, his gorgeous ass having crashed to the floor. "Dammit," he added, after a beat.
She got her feet under her and then awkwardly moved a leg over the destroyed hammock, trying her best not to give in to a giggling fit. She pulled the ripped fabric away, then dropped to her knees beside him.
"Are you all right?" she asked, running her hands over him to check for injuries. Maybe she couldn't stop the giggles, but she really was concerned that he'd been hurt.
"I'm fine," he said, pushing her hands away. "And stop that, or we're going to be right back in the same position again." He stood up gingerly, looking for his clothes.
"I thought it was an earthquake," she told him, standing up too. "I thought I was going to have to make some joke about how the earth had never moved like that before for me."
Luke paused while trying to turn his jeans right-side out. "For me…" he started. He shook his head. "For me, it's true," he said gruffly. "It's never felt like it does with you."
Her heart felt like it was shaking in her chest. "Me, too," she told him, realizing he'd probably never understand how much courage it had taken her to admit that. "It's like nothing I've ever felt before. I've never felt like this with anyone."
He zipped up his jeans and bent to snag his shirt. "Someday, when we both have time, I want us to go away. I want to keep you in a bedroom with me until I finally get my fill of you." He shook his head. "If that's even possible."
"A bedroom?" Lorelai's voice was mocking. She didn't want him to know how much she wanted that too. "How quaint. A bedroom." Her eyes deliberately roved around the garage.
Luke laughed. "Yeah, we haven't been too conventional, have we?"
"Conventional's overrated," she stated.
They finished getting dressed and Luke helped her push the hammock frame back over into a dusty corner. She wadded up the ripped canvas and stuffed it into the garbage can when they stepped outside.
"Thanks for walking me home," she told him, her eyes sparkling.
"Thanks for showing me the garage," he countered.
He walked her up to the porch steps again.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asked.
She took one step up on the stairs, turning around then to fling her arms about his shoulders. He pulled her tight against him.
"Well," she sighed. "It's Friday, so there's work, and then there's the torture chamber otherwise known as the dining room at the Gilmore estate. But ―" Her lips nuzzled his neck. "If there's any way I can get to you, I will."
"You got to me a long time ago, Lorelai," he said, not sounding like he was joking.
"Mmm. I like knowing that," she breathed out against him. They shared a kiss; one that spoke of everything they had just done and everything that they were hoping to do in the future.
"Goodnight," she whispered to him.
"Goodnight," he said back, reluctantly.
She watched the moonlight shine on his freshly-showered hair as he started up the street. He paused just once, looking back and waving sort of self-consciously at her when he saw she was watching.
Lorelai quickly looked herself over, making sure she was presentable enough to be seen by her daughter. Briefly she reflected on how different her feelings were about Luke. In other relationships, with other guys, she'd always looked forward to the end of the date. No matter how much fun she'd had, or how good the movie was, or how great the sex might have been, there was always something so satisfying about coming home to her own house. She loved the feeling of being completely in charge of things, here with Rory. She relished being the queen of her own kingdom. She liked being on her own.
But now...
She looked longingly down the street, to the point where he'd disappeared into the dark. She should have tried harder to get him to come inside. She hadn't really been ready to say goodnight yet.
In fact, she missed him already.
Next: Will Friday really be torturous?