"You know, I would really find this storm beautiful under other circumstances."
"I wouldn't," Nate muttered. He checked the glove compartment and his pockets for the third time. "I lived through too many of these, growing up in Boston. And that was black ice we hit, in case you didn't notice. I dunno what blew out the tire--"
"I still think of winter storms as a rarity." Nate heard everything Sophie didn't say about her background, the lack of real snow or ice during her peripatetic youth. She leaned forward and blew on the windshield, adding the fog of her breath to the frost that already coated the outside. "'Jack Frost nipping at your nose'...."
"Have you noticed it's March?" He started to get out of the car, thinking perhaps he could flag somebody down on the road, but Sophie caught his wrist. In the blue-green glow from the dashboard, her eyes were pools of luminous darkness.
"Don't, Nate. You'll only get cold and wet, and then I'll have to sit here in my lovely coat with you smelling like a wet sheep." Her nose wrinkled as she stroked the vintage mink she was wearing. "And if you're cold and wet, I won't want you to touch me."
Her eyes twinkled, even in the dimness, and her hand on his wrist was surprisingly warm. "And if I stay in the car?"
One slim finger slipped under the rim of his glove and traced the vein that lay close to the skin. "Then we can keep each other warm."
Even after all this time together--even at his age--Sophie could still rouse him with a few words, a single touch. He was as hard as the gear shaft that separated them, just like that. For a moment he tugged at his hair, not sure what to do; it had been a very long time since he'd tried having sex in a car. Then he didn't have to think any more, because Sophie was climbing into his lap, her nails lightly scraping his neck, the folds of her mink coat trailing over both of them.
Nate retained enough presence of mind to lower the seat as far back as it would go. Sophie's smile was the only reward he needed. "See, I'm very warm under here." Her smooth thighs bracketed his own; he could feel the heat of her groin over his, although she didn't let herself rest on him. Not yet. With her hands on shoulders, she gave a little shrug, and the coat parted across her breasts, showing him warm golden skin still fragrant with a trace of her perfume. They'd been to a cocktail party, and she had correctly worn a cocktail dress, a perfect little black cocktail dress....
But at the party, her breasts hadn't practically fallen out of the dress as they did now. Nate took the hint and cupped them with still-gloved hands, carefully, so he could suck at her peaked nipples. Sophie moaned appreciatively and let her hands drift down to his waist, where she began to undo his belt. Nate ran his hand down her side to her hip, squeezed, managed to strip off one glove while still paying attention to her breast. With his bare hand he sought under the hem of her dress, over silk stocking and satin strap to find silkier naked thigh and soft hot naked crotch.
Nate groaned. Sophie's hand pressed down on his cock just as his fingers found her neatly trimmed pubes, no panties, a satin garter belt. He pulled off his other glove and pushed her dress up to her waist with both hands, wanting to see her, the shimmer of silk against her olive skin, the dark gold hue of the garter belt framing her dark curls. She rubbed his cock, still inside his boxers, and gave a little twist of her hips that invited his hand upward. He cupped her mound, hot and slick, parted the lips with a gentle stroke, found her clit and smoothed wetness over it.
Sophie licked her lips and bent to kiss him. Nate kept enough presence of mind to keep on stroking her, coaxing her to open up, slipping a finger inside her as her tongue slipped into his mouth.
He almost didn't notice when her hand joined his between them and she shifted, still kissing him, until she pulled back with a gasp that he echoed, because she was sinking down onto his cock. He had little leverage to thrust, but he could circle his hips a little, the way she did as she took him in. He palmed her breasts, admiring the arch of her throat and then the triumphant gleam in her eyes as she lowered her head to smile at him.
"Warm enough?" He had no time to answer because she began riding him in earnest, letting out soft deep moans in time with her movement. The mink coat rippled over both of them, brindled with the glow of the dashboard, adding its antique scent to the smell of male and female arousal. Nate came with his fingers twined in its fur, somewhere around Sophie's hips, while she lay on his chest and buried her fingers in his hair.
He was too sunk in release and pleasure to jump when someone tapped on the rear windshield. Sophie chuckled against his neck and lifted herself as delicately as a cat. "Give us a minute, Hardison," she said aloud, and Nate heard Alec's laughing answer from outside the car. Thank goodness all the windows were fogged over.
"Y'all can have all the time you need, ain't nobody need to see that."
Nate looked at Sophie through hooded eyes, still too drowsy to sit up. "You had a comm on you the whole time."
She laughed. "Of course. In this weather, and this close to Portland? We might have frozen to death if I hadn't."
Nate thought about asking how long the comm had been live, and what Alec might have heard, and decided against it. "Well, like the old song says, 'I've got your love to keep me warm'."