WARNING: Short chapter but a bit of smut to make up for it.

Senior Prom 6

Ranger's lips came crashing down on mine and all of a sudden it was hot. So hot that steam might be coming out of my ears. So hot that my panties might be smoking. So hot that I might melt into a big grease spot on the kitchen floor at any moment.

"Duh…" I said when Ranger released me.

"Babe," he replied.

After an hour or so I got my voice back. "It's time for you to go. Go home and sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

With a teeny, tiny little inclination of his head, not really enough to be considered a nod but I knew that's what it was, Ranger walked away and I turned back to make coffee.

Ten minutes later I walked out of the kitchen carrying a tray containing the coffee pot, two mugs, spoons, and cream and sugar. Who said I didn't know how to be a good hostess?

Well, I didn't have any napkins, but in lieu of them there were a couple of folded paper towels. The cream was real half-and-half, which is what I preferred for my coffee, and I'd been to the store just a couple days ago, so I was all stocked up. The sugar and cream were in a matching cut-glass set that used to be Grandma Mazur's. She gave it to me a few years ago when she sold her house and moved in with my parents. This was the first time I'd used it, but I was feeling quite the domestic goddess.

The tray was actually a "Slater sled," Slater being the food service company from college. When it snowed freshman year my friends and I stole trays from the cafeteria and used them for sliding down the little hill from our dorm to the parking lot. Somehow that tray traveled with me through three different apartments since freshman year plus the presto-and-it's-gone marriage to the Dick. The bottom was a little scraped and battered from sliding onto the asphalt of the plowed parking lot, but the top was still perfectly serviceable and I broke it out for special occasions. Like having a hot bionics researcher over for coffee. Okay, okay, it was the first time I'd used it, too.

When I walked through the door to the living room, I almost dropped the tray. As a matter of fact, I would have dropped it if Ranger hadn't stuck a hand out from where he was seated in the chair to steady it.

Yeah, Ranger.

"I thought you were going home," I said, giving him my top-of-the-line death glare.

"No," he replied, never one to waste words.

I set the tray on the coffee table. "Here you go, Stan. Please help yourself." I turned back toward the door. "Ranger, kitchen. Now."

I got to the kitchen and leaned my hands on the counter, head down, taking deep breaths. What the hell did he think he was doing?

When I finally got myself under control I straightened and said, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I turned around and smacked right into a Rock-of-Gibraltar chest. Two steel-beam arms surrounded me, and a hot, hungry mouth descended on mine.

Oh… My… God…

Vivid desire burst over me like a meteor, filling my every pore with a passion that shimmered and flashed and burned. Our bodies fit together as if we were formed from matching molds, and the heat between us threatened to explode with the force of a thermonuclear blast.

Ranger's hands were under the back of my shirt, one sliding up to unhook my bra and the other slipping down into the back of my pants to cup my ass. The hand on my back came around between us to fondle my breast, and when his thumb stroked across my rock-hard nipple the sensation sizzled through me, making me gasp and arch my back, begging for more.

My arms went around his neck, a completely involuntary action, I swear, and my legs wrapped around his waist, pressing my core against the massive hard-on that threatened to tear out of his cargoes at any moment. I tortured myself, and probably Ranger, too, by pumping my hips in and out, sliding my center up and down his hardness and feeling the orgasm building deep in my loins.

As quickly as it began, it ended. Ranger tore his mouth away from mine, set me down on the floor with a thud, and took a step backward.

"We need another cup, Babe," he said, his voice low and husky, his eyelids heavy over eyes dark as sin.

My head was spinning so fast I couldn't even find my own thoughts. "Huh?" I mumbled.

"Another cup. So we can have coffee with Stan."

Huh? Stan who?

TBC