Less than Perfect, S. J. Evans [classic literature books txt] 📗

bare skin.
“Hey, love birds!” Rachel sang sweetly, tauntingly, suppressing a giggle. “Do you think you two could save that stuff for the bedroom? It just so happens that someone is trying to drive

up here! And she can’t have all of that riff-raff going on in the backseat while she does it!” Her voice echoed a playful lilt of mockery and friendly disapproval—which, in Rachel’s world, meant she was only teasing them for the pleasure of witnessing them all flustered and embarrassed.
It worked like a charm.
Skye scrambled away from Jules’s lap, almost falling onto the floor in the process, and her already rosy cheeks flushed with new heat and embarrassment. Her once pounding heart began to race, and she took a deep breath of much needed air. She realized, in her own dizzying state of mind, that she and Jules had possibly chosen the wrong time and place to play such silly games. What had they been thinking when they’d decided to make out in the backseat of her mother’s car, with her best friend driving up in the front? Fact was: they hadn’t; they’d merely been lost in the heat of the moment.
Glancing between Rachel, who had her eyes locked on the road ahead but also a large, smug grin on her face, and Jules, who had his glossy eyes pinned on Skye while his hands nervously fumbled through his hair, Skye couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, too high on adrenaline to care about whether or not she’d just partially lost it with Jules in the company of her best friend.
Jules grinned then, too, and in a minute they’d all lost it, breaking out into an all-out, uncontrollable laugh fest. There was nothing to be ashamed of. In the end they were all friends, and playful banter—whether it came from two best friends or two young people madly in love with each other—was expected, if not encouraged.
After a few long minutes tangled up in the pull of utter hysteria, Skye was the first to revive herself, wiping at her teary eyes and burying her face into Jules’s slightly shaking body, unable to wipe the smile off her face. She curled into his side, breathed in his warmth. A sigh of contentment escaped her chapped lips and, without looking up at all, she said, “Well. That was fun.”
Rachel scoffed, tossing her head back against the headrest. “Yeah, well, I’m sure it was even more fun for you two. Just warn me next time before you guys decide to get all . . . intimate

in my presence, okay? A little heads up would be nice.”
Skye looked up briefly, catching Rachel’s gaze in the rearview mirror, and grinned when her friend winked at her. “Sure, Rach,” she said slowly, rolling the words off her tongue carefully. “We’ll be sure to warn you next time. Although, with you being so far away from us for such a long time, I have a feeling it won’t be a problem.” This time it was her turn to wink at her friend.
“Right.” Rachel’s eyes twinkled. “No problem at all.”
Skye couldn’t help but chuckle at the hint of sarcasm in her friend’s voice, and with one final word exchanged—exactly

—she nuzzled herself into Jules’s outstretched arms, and closed her eyes, breathing in the richness of his warmth and the coziness of his body so close to hers. Faintly, like a whisper in the wind, she could hear—and feel

—a conversation beginning between her two closest friends, and her heart warmed at the sweetness of the soft, beautiful melody that hummed in the background of her peace filled mind.

“WELL, THIS IS IT,” Skye said, setting one of Rachel’s bags of luggage down onto the pavement. “This is where we go our separate ways. You’re going to have the greatest time in Paris. Savannah’s ecstatic, too, I’m sure.”
Rachel chuckled, and with her free hand, grabbed the last piece of luggage from the trunk. “She is, and I’m sure it’ll be great fun. But I’m definitely going to miss my best friend.”
“Aw, I’m going to miss you, too, Rach,” Skye sang sweetly, wrapping her friend in a hug, careful to avoid the luggage. “Six months is quite a long time. It’s going to be quite different without you here.”
“Ditto,” Rachel murmured, and pulled out of the hug, securing her luggage in her hands. “Well, I guess this is goodbye. Take care of yourself while I’m gone. Love ya, hon.”
“Thanks.” Skye’s lips curled into a smile. “Right back at ya.”
Spinning on her heel, Rachel peered at Jules, who was leaning against the car’s exterior with his hands in his pockets as he whistled a quiet little tune, and said, “And you, Mr. Nice Guy, be sure to treat Skye well. Because if you don’t, I swear I’ll hunt you down and poison you myself. Got it?” She raised her brows, and much to Skye’s surprised, really pulled off the threatening look well.
Jules stood there for a moment, seemingly processing Rachel’s threat, and in the next, stood up, approached Skye from behind, and wrapped his arms around her, all the while carrying a smirk across his lips. “You have nothing to worry about, Rachel—I’ll take good care of her. Promise.”
“Oh, all right.” Rachel dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Well, I’ll see you guys in six months. Skye, call me sometime, ‘kay?” The moment Skye nodded, she grinned, gave a little wave, and called out, “Au revoir!”
Filled with a sudden spirit of glee from her best friend’s attitude, Skye twirled around in Jules’s arms, gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and mumbled, “We’ve got to get back home, now. And maybe later, after dinner, you can share that surprise with me? Sound good?”
He grinned wickedly, nipping at her bottom lip. “Sounds great, Skye.” His deep, husky voice provoked heat to course through Skye’s veins. “But first—you’ve got to give me a real

kiss. And then I’ll drive you home.”
With his request ringing in her ears, she grinned her own wicked smile and aggressively pulled his face towards hers, giving him the kind of kiss that he’d requested—a real, passionate, electric kiss that, in the end (after a few long, precious moments caught up in each other’s embrace), left them both breathless and desperately wanting more.

“WAIT, JULES, QUIT IT!” Skye squealed, flailing her arms in a vain attempt at pushing Jules away. “Come on, I—I’m serious, knock—it—off!” With fleeting breaths, she squirmed underneath her boyfriend’s tickling hands, hitting and kicking, desperately trying to suppress her uncontrollable laughter. Problem was . . . it seemed impossible. He’d been tickling her for too long, and even though she hated him for it, there was no chance she’d be able to contain her laughter until he stopped.
“Be honest, Skye,” Jules said around a sly, lazy grin, “you love

it.” With one hand still working on the sensitive spots beneath her shirt, he gently tangled the other in her hair and bent down to give her a quick, and nearly fulfilling enough kiss on the lips.
She could feel him laughing—at her, no less—and, despite how warm and good

it made her feel being explored and played with by Jules, she bucked against him, gaining enough control to veer his focus away from tickling her. “Like I said before,” she gasped, breathless from not only the laughter but also their close, intimate contact. “You—are—a—-total—idiot.”
Suddenly, and to Skye’s utter surprise, Jules collapsed on top of her, barely supporting himself enough so that she wasn’t entirely squished between him and the living room’s couch cushions. And, with his hands quickly at both sides of her face, he pressed his lips against her forehead, then her nose, and then, when she closed her eyes from the intensity of it all, her eyelids. “Maybe I am an idiot. However, you’ve got to admit, I’m a very sexy one.”
Despite the heat of his touch, and the breathtaking intensity of the entire situation, she couldn’t help but let out a small, quiet giggle, along with a faint whimper. From the way he’d spoken those ridiculous, childish words (even if she couldn’t agree with them more), her heart fluttered anxiously, and her skin tingled, aroused by the deep, seductive tone of it all.
Her small, shaky hands grasped onto the smooth, squishy couch cushion directly beneath her, and, ignoring the side of her that warned her not to taunt Jules any further—especially considering the fact that they were only one room away from where Leah and Joe were preparing dinner—she pressed herself against him, kissing his lips and asking for entrance. When he caved in (which took little convincing on her part), his taste collided with her mouth, and she explored him carefully, taking her time.
He growled in the back of his throat, and after a mindboggling minute suspended in his enriching presence, she pulled away, out of breath and at a loss for words. There was nothing she could say that didn’t request for more, so she said nothing, knowing from the racing of his heart and the creasing of his forehead that he wasn’t sure more was a good idea. And, as difficult as it was for her to admit, she knew it was time their little playtime was over. If they continued any longer, there was a good chance that Leah or Joe could walk in, see them in their . . . compromising

position, and babble on and on about the dangers of what they were up to, spoiling the mood.
“Rain check for later?” Jules whispered, snapping Skye out of her rather unappealing thoughts. “Right here, right now is probably not the best idea.”
Unable to string together a mere few words, she simply nodded her head and opened her heavily lidded eyes, peering around the blurriness to find a glossy eyed, practically glowing Jules. The boyish smirk on his face crushed her in a wave of her own desire, stealing away any chances she’d had at finding her voice—and breath—again.
“Great,” he said, and sat up, taking the seat on the furthest cushion away from Skye, so that he wasn’t sitting on

her in any way. “So . . . are you ready to hear what the surprise is?”
His bold, breathtaking emerald’s peered deep into her own crystal orbs as he watched her sit up, triggering butterflies to flutter anxiously in her stomach from the intensity of his intimate gaze. However, because she still couldn’t find her voice, she instead nodded in reply, very eagerly.
He chuckled, and slid closer, draped an arm across her shoulder. His warm, gentle fingers played with her sleeves while he nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck, distracting her, before he whispered in her ear, “I’ll tell you during dinner. But, just as a heads up, be prepared to enjoy it the moment dinner is over. You’re going to love

it, and it’ll be worth any wait.”
Her breath caught in her throat when his lips softly kissed her cheek,