Causeway Parking Lot to the Mainland; Later Tuesday Afternoon

[totalwildcard]

It might not have ultimately been too much of a surprise which car in the parking lot was Harley's current ride. At least if you happened to know the Chevy Impala was Dean's provided it was even present on Tuesday. The funky 1970s green Chevy Chevelle sedan (four doors, see what she'd said about the back seat?) was of course Harley's: a classic look, but not so flashy as to attract too much attention and immediately get her in trouble as soon as she'd grabbed it from where the very unfortunate previous owner had left it.

Although the main hint that it was hers was still probably that she'd parked her butt on the hood of the thing as she waited for Marc to get there.

Call it a freebie.

(for that guy, continued from here!

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

In which case Marc added a "Sexy" and "Beautiful" into the mix. Because those were also true and were words he could currently manage.

[totalwildcard]

And they made Harley laugh, which was rarely a bad thing! Or at least she made some kind of amused noise, her mouth being occupied the way it was.

Whatever, clearly the best way to show appreciation she had at her disposal right now was another purposeful grind of her hips down against his. Or maybe she was just seeking more proof he wasn't just saying those things?

Either worked.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc was not just saying them. A situation that was - ahem - harder to ignore now that he didn't have her pleasure to focus on. So that kiss got a little greedier as she ground down, with some light bites of his own.

[totalwildcard]

He might have felt her lips pull into a smirk again. As much as they could, anyway. It was only because the one grind was followed by another.

And that one drew a gasp.

The hand at the back of his neck slid down to his chest. The one in his hair? Was staying there, thank you.

[hasaknightjob]

"Think you don't have an affect?" Marc asked her. He rocked up into her as much as space allowed. "Pretty fucking distracting, Doc."

A deliberate word choice there, of course.

[totalwildcard]

"But feels like fucking attention," Harley retorted, on another gasp since a taste of her own medicine was always going to have that effect.

"Feels electric."

He was not losing to the car.

[hasaknightjob]

That hand on her backside gripped her tighter and yanked her good and close, holding her in place right at the apex of it so she could get a full picture. So to speak.

"You've got my attention."

[totalwildcard]

"Ah!"

Look, you try getting yanked into something as wonderful and not make an embarrassing noise! Not that Harley found it embarrassing.

Especially since she followed it up with a laugh-whined, "Your attention is why clothes shouldn't exist!"

[hasaknightjob]

"You started it," Marc replied. Very maturely.

But grinning so clearly not mad about either. If anything it was in that weird area where it wasn't so much blaming Harley as complimenting her.

[totalwildcard]

Harley pressed her forehead lightly to his. It was there, what better reason did she need?

"Oh, did I?" she asked, clearly offended by this entirely correct and flattering accusation, just look at the smirk. "Whatcha gonna do about it?"

[hasaknightjob]

Anybody else and any other situation Marc might have made a joke about leaving her frustrated. But since that had a high likelihood of still being a tender spot, Marc avoided it entirely.

Instead he rocked up into her and again held her at just that position for a moment. "Something'll come to mind."

[totalwildcard]

His reluctance to go there was understandable, but really he just robbed himself of seeing Harley make some over-the-top faces.

Though this one, slightly more genuine, where she bit her own lip with an 'mmmh!', was pretty good too.

"Oh something better come, all right."

She could also make her own jokes about it! She was self-sufficient like that.

[hasaknightjob]

Dumb as it was it still got a laugh out of Marc. Which made him briefly turn his head while he did it. Which turned out to put him in a good position to place a light bite on her neck, so he did that as well.

Whether that was punishment or reward for the joke was up to her really.

[totalwildcard]

Harley was the sort of person who could sometimes thrive on funishment, so why not both, as the word suggested?

Made her hiss a little, then laugh. That worked.

"Oh, do that again."

She could entice him with another grind, trying to mimic the way he's yanked her to him, as best as she could.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc could take a request. Though he licked at the spot he'd just bitten before biting again, a little harder this time.

[totalwildcard]

Hey, no fair! Harley's eyes fluttered closed with the lick, and then she gasped loud for the bite.

... Wait, no, definitely fair, actually.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc followed that up with sucking and licking at the spot. Nowhere near hard enough to leave a mark even on her pale skin. Just enough to soothe any lingering pain from the bite.

[totalwildcard]

And Harley was feeling real soothed, of course. It did not at all send a shiver slithering down her spine.

Promise.

Her hand rubbed idly at his chest. Well, 'idly' - sorta feeling up his muscles, really.

[hasaknightjob]

Something about the vibe of it all didn't ease Marc's hunger exactly, but did make it less sharp. More of a thrum in his pulse than a single, keening need.

Marc slowly trailed his lips back to Harley's mouth. He kissed her again, but this time long, and wet. A slow stoking of an existing fire instead of exploding it with gasoline.

[totalwildcard]

Well, he was with Harley, after all: to put it nicely, the mood around her was a living, breathing thing. Less nicely, it was something unpredictable that could turn on a dime.

Sometimes it was this.

And this, now, felt like being savored. Which, yes, absolutely stoked an existing fire, but also lit another one, something a little more fluttery.

She gave him back what she got, her hand still slowly roaming like it couldn't get enough of how solid he felt under her touch.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc's hands didn't go roaming. He still wanted to protect her head from the roof after all. But his other hand started kneading her shapely backside as he resumed pulling her closer as he rocked up into her. Slower. Not a tidal wave but a steady and regular lapping of the tide.

[totalwildcard]

Harley needed no roaming if she could have that instead. There wasn't much that could center her for long, but, well. There was a lovely sort of insistence in something steady and repeating, sometimes.

And he knew she could follow a lead. Sometimes.

This time. Letting him move her, while her hand strayed from his chest to his shoulder, to his upper arm. Doing a little kneading of its own.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc didn't mind that touch. In a way he sort of mirrored it, going in the opposite direction that she did as he moved away from her mouth and slowly kissed along her neck and jawline.

When he got to her ear he whispered, "We're supposed to be having dinner."

Though he followed that with a nip to her earlobe so it was debatable how much that was a conversational opener compared to an observation.

[totalwildcard]

Harley had an opinion about that, either way: "Who gives a rat's shitty, cheese-munching ass about 'supposed to'?" she sighed, head tipping back just a little bit.

Eloquent as always.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc couldn't help it. He gave a bark of laughter. He tried to cover it up - purely from a volume perspective, he was right by her ear after all - but was not entirely successful. He ended up resting his forehead against her shoulder, still laughing, while managing a, "Damn it, Harley - "

But sort of marveling, not complaining.