“Tonight?” The surprised inflection in his voice intensified.
“Yes, the feature is playing in twenty minutes.” Cathy told him the name of the film and the location. She tapped a nervous tattoo with her index finger on the desk top. “That is…if you’re not doing anything else.”
“No… I’m not doing anything else.” His reply was drawn out, ending in a moment of silence. Then he came back, decisive. “Okay. I’ll meet you there.”
“Good. And Michael…” Cathy paused. She dropped her voice to a sultry purr. “Come commando.”
Without waiting for a response, she broke the connection. She laughed in amazement at herself, closing the cell with shaking hands. She couldn’t believe that she had actually said that. She couldn’t believe she had said it like that.
Inside the nearly empty theater auditorium, Winter waited. She had deliberately chosen a top row seat in the darkest corner. She saw Michael enter, hesitating while he glanced around for her. She waved to draw his attention. When he saw her, she could see the surprise that crossed his face.
Michael bounded up the broad carpeted stairs two at a time. When he reached her, he said, “You’ve got the nose-bleed section to yourself.”
Winter smiled at him, feeling devilment slice through her. Now that he was here, her nervousness vanished. Instead, anticipation was already pooling low in her belly. “That’s what I was hoping for. I thought it would be a good make-out spot.”
His dark brows scaled upward. There was a speculative expression in his ice-blue eyes. One side of his mouth quirked into a smile. “Make-out spot? I like the way you think, woman.” He sprawled down into the seat beside her.
There were only three other people scattered throughout the auditorium, all seated closer to the screen than they were. It was the last screening of the show. Winter smiled to herself as her heart began beating a bit faster. It was exciting to think about the little seduction she had planned, especially with other people sitting just rows away.
“Popcorn?” She offered the striped bucket to him. “I hope you like extra butter.” Without a word, Michael dug in his fingers and tossed some of the buttered popcorn into his mouth. The lights dimmed until the theater was dark. They crunched popcorn through the trailers and the film’s beginning. The action flick was a typical guy show with not much in the way of plot but lots of loud, spectacular pyrotechnics. When the popcorn bucket was empty except for a few kernels floating in the excess butter, Winter set the bucket out of the way. She turned back to Michael, who was watching her. “Now about making out…”
“What did you have in mind?” he asked in a low voice, easing his upper body closer.
“Pretend that we’re back in high school. I’ll let you get to first base.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, maybe even second.” Winter leaned over the armrest to kiss him. She closed her eyes when his mouth fitted to hers. They took their time to taste and linger, licking the salt and butter from one another.
Michael slid his hands up under her snuggly sweater. Winter held her breath. She was braless, and as his hands slid over her bare breasts, he growled low in his throat. Winter laughed quietly. His warm palms fondled her, and her insides began to melt. He kissed her openmouthed, greedily.
Winter grazed her fingertips over the zipper of Michael’s jeans, where there was a telltale bulge. At her touch, his shaft jerked under the denim. Obviously, she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t interested in the explosions on the screen. She rounded her palm and squeezed slowly. Michael grunted, his warm breath exhaling into her mouth.