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“Wow,” Ellie exclaims, catching her breath. “We have a whole capsule to ourselves.” She turns and gives me a mischievous grin. “It?
??s so beautiful, even in the rain.” Her hands are pressed to the glass wall as we begin to rise, tiny streams of water drip off of the ends of her long hair.
I cross the small space and crush against her back, wrapping my arms around her waist. “I figured you’d ridden the London Eye before,” I whisper in her ear.
She shivers from the contact. “Once, but only for school. It was kind of boring, we had to mark things on maps.”
Ellie arches her head back, exposing the damp skin that stretches from her ear to her shoulder. I flick my tongue along it to catch each droplet of water. Once I’m satisfied, I scrape my teeth up and down the length of her neck before placing a small kiss on each tender spot.
“Mmmmm.”
The moans that she makes drive me insane. I could listen to her all day. I have to stop this torture. I didn’t bring her here to fuck her. I wanted to have an actual date, something I’ve never done with anyone before.
“Look,” I point outside, “you can see pretty far even with all the rain.”
Ellie huffs in frustration when I stop kissing her neck, but she follows my hand to see where I’m pointing.
“That’s Charing Cross Station,” she says. “Oh, and there’s the bridge!” She squirms out of my arms and dashes to the other side of the pod. “Look Adam! It’s Westminster Abby!”
I watch her face light up and smile. That look is why I wanted to do this, to see her happy and carefree because of something I did for her. “It’s beautiful,” I agree, looking out through the glass, water splashing against it and running down in sheets. “The city looks so peaceful from up here. You could almost believe that life is perfect,” I say wistfully.
Ellie turns to face me, putting her hands up behind my neck and threading them through my wet hair. “With you, it’s always perfect,” she whispers.
“El,” I murmur. She stands on her toes. I cup her face, bringing my mouth down over hers. Passion explodes between us and the gentle kiss turns desperate and needy, our tongues twisting together in a fight for dominance.
Aching to feel more of her body against mine, I skim my hands down her back, stopping when I reach her firm backside. My fingers knead into her flesh, pressing her hips into my hard shaft. Ellie takes a step back and sits, pulling me down until I’m lying on top of her on the long wooden bench in the center of the capsule.
“God El, I need you so badly,” I whisper against her lips.
“Me too, Adam. I want you.” She arches her back and wraps her legs around my waist, grinding the crease of her jeans into my cock.
Unable to stop myself, I rut against her hot core, not caring that I’ll probably have a sore dick later from the friction on the rough fabric of our clothing. Both of us are panting heavily, fingers touching and mouths exploring. Ellie slides her hands into the back of my jeans and I growl, letting out a string of expletives.
The ride slows and I almost don’t notice in time to keep the attendant from getting a free show.
“El,” I jump up and quickly adjust my pants. “Get up.” She flies off of the seat and fixes her clothing right before the capsule door opens.
“Enjoy your ride?” the man asks as we stop out into the rain.
We both grin like idiots and nod right before we make a run for the tube station, laughing the entire way.
“Hawke, keep up! For God’s sake, what are you doing?” Dax yells at our drummer, his face growing red and angry.
“Christ Dax, what the fuck is your problem?” He’s been acting like a bastard the last few days. It’s not a coincidence that his bad mood started when he began favoring his right side and showed up with a cut behind his ear. I know better than to ask about his battle scars, though.
“He’s not keeping up with the tempo! It’s throwing me off!”
“Maybe you didn’t practice your part like you were supposed to,” Hawke says calmly from behind his drum set, twirling his sticks around in his fingers like only a drummer can.
Dax’s shoulders hunch up. I can practically see the steam coming out of his ears.
“Liam!” I call out across the empty pub. George lets us practice Saturday and Sunday mornings before he opens.
Dax’s huge older brother looks up from his seat next to Ellie at the bar where they’re sharing a giant mound of chips, laughing like hyenas. “Yeah!”
“Tell your idiot brother to get his shit together!”
Dax shoots me a terrifying look, which I promptly ignore. I’ve known him for so long that I’m not intimidated by him, even if most people are, and rightly so. He’s a dangerous bastard.
