Taboo Online

The Bureau returned Luke’s call before he finished breakfast. Lauren had pulled on one of his shirts before starting breakfast and now stood at the kitchen counter spreading jam across a piece of toast. Luke tried to concentrate on the woman speaking through his phone instead of the bare legs visible beneath the hem.

"Nothing opened up for today," the coordinator said. "We can fit you into a supervised chamber tomorrow morning. Dr. Shaw’s authorization is already attached to your file, and you’ll receive the exact arrival time this afternoon."

Luke glanced at Lauren. She had stopped moving, the butter knife hovering above the toast. "Tomorrow morning?"

"Correct. Until then, the restrictions in Dr. Shaw’s report remain in effect. Report any change in your symptoms before the session."

"I will."

The call ended, and Luke lowered the phone. Lauren pointed the butter knife at him.

"Tomorrow. And until then?"

"Reinforce stays off. Arcane Thrust stays off. Quickstep stays off."

Her expression softened with approval. "Good."

Luke gave her a look, but Lauren had already returned to the toast. He should have been thinking about Powerforge. Tomorrow would be his first time entering the game since Route Nine, and even under Bureau supervision, nobody knew how his injured pathways would respond once he crossed over again. The inactive residue was still inside him. His right hand had improved, but it was nowhere near normal, and Shaw had made it clear that permission for one dive did not erase any of the restrictions surrounding his recovery.

Those thoughts lasted until Luke’s attention drifted toward Lauren’s thighs again, then toward the kitchen table. He stopped chewing.

The table was ordinary dark wood with four chairs and a few scratches near one corner. He had eaten there dozens of times, worked on café paperwork there, and sat across from Lauren during conversations that had changed his life. This morning, an entirely different idea attached itself to it.

Lauren caught him staring. "What are you looking at?"

Luke looked at her, then back at the table. Something warm and reckless moved through him, and when Lauren said his name again, he swallowed the last bite of toast and stood.

Her eyebrows lifted as he crossed the kitchen. Usually, getting this close to her without an excuse was enough to make him think too hard about where to put his hands, whether he was crowding her, and how obvious his intentions had become. This time, he stopped directly in front of her.

"What?" she asked, quieter now.

Luke glanced toward the table. Lauren followed his gaze, and her expression changed.

He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, but he had spent too many nights imagining things he was too embarrassed to say. Lauren had told him she wanted to be surprised. She wanted him to stop waiting for her to write every part of the script.

"I want you on that table."

Lauren went completely still. Luke nearly laughed from nerves, but the impulse passed when he saw the surprise on her face. Her eyes moved to the table and back to him.

"You do?"

"Yeah."

Very few things left Lauren without an immediate response. Luke had watched her handle Bureau officials, villains, an elven queen, and him at his most embarrassing without losing control for more than a few seconds. Right now, she was silent.

Luke placed his left hand against her hip. "You asked me to tell you what I want. I’m telling you." A little color appeared in her cheeks.

"Pretty boy has plans now."

The nickname still hit him exactly where she wanted it to, but Luke held his ground. "Don’t use that to distract me." Lauren’s eyebrows rose as he leaned closer, keeping his injured right hand relaxed near his stomach.

"Table."

Her breath caught softly. The teasing in her face gave way to something hotter, and she set the butter knife on the counter.

"All right."

Lauren stepped around him before he could decide whether he had expected more resistance. The hem of his shirt shifted over her thighs with every step as she crossed the kitchen. She stopped beside one of the chairs, placed a hand against the tabletop, and looked back at him.

"You were very confident a second ago."

His brain threatened to stall. Then Lauren smiled.

Luke crossed the kitchen before he could overthink himself into retreating. His left arm circled her waist, and he kissed her hard enough to draw a startled sound from her. Lauren hadn’t been ready this time, and the realization sent a rush of satisfaction through him.

Her hands came up around his shoulders. Luke felt her begin to shift their positions, an old instinct that would have put her back in control before he had even decided what to do next, and he stopped her. Lauren opened her eyes.

"No."

The word came out more firmly than he expected. Her eyebrows climbed, and heat rushed into Luke’s face, but he didn’t let go.

"I picked the table."

For a moment, Lauren simply watched him. Then her hands relaxed against his shoulders.

"You did."

Luke kissed her again and guided her backward until the backs of her thighs met the wood. The table gave a quiet scrape against the floor, and Lauren’s breath broke against his mouth. Feeling that reaction loosened the last of Luke’s hesitation.

Breakfast disappeared from both of their minds. The plates remained near the counter. Lauren’s toast sat unfinished beside the butter knife, and one chair ended up pushed several feet away from where it belonged. Luke kept his right wrist clear the entire time, using his left arm, his legs, and the rest of his body whenever he needed leverage instead of bracing through the injured joint. Once, when his right hand drifted toward the table out of habit, Lauren caught his forearm and moved it safely against her side without breaking the moment.

Luke laughed breathlessly near her ear. "You really can’t stop taking care of me, can you?"

Lauren’s answer took a moment to arrive. "Apparently not."

He kissed her before she could say anything else. The table should have been the part that made the fantasy feel wild, yet Luke kept watching Lauren instead. Her hair had fallen across her face, the oversized shirt had slipped from one shoulder, and the woman who could usually dismantle him with a look was struggling to keep her breathing even. Each time Luke surprised her with a firmer kiss or refused to surrender the lead, another piece of that composure slipped.

Lauren caught him looking. "You seem very pleased with yourself."

"I am."

Luke kissed the side of her neck before she could answer, and her fingers tightened against his shoulder. By the time they finally slowed, Lauren rested her forehead against Luke’s shoulder and breathed through a laugh. His left arm remained securely around her waist while his right hand hung loose at his side.

"Where did this come from?" she asked.

Luke looked down at her messy hair. "You told me you didn’t want to write the whole script."

Lauren raised her head. "You remembered that?"

"I remember almost everything you say when you’re talking about us."

The teasing disappeared from her face for a second. Luke immediately felt self-conscious.

"That sounded less embarrassing in my head."

"No." Lauren touched his cheek. "Keep that one."

Luke smiled, but his attention had already begun drifting toward the hallway. Lauren noticed.

"What now?"

His gaze settled on the bathroom door.