I have been tagged by Gayl Taylor in the Look Challenge; the brief is to find the LOOKs in your current WIPs and post the paragraphs around the word. Choose your favorite THREE, because everyone has to have at least three, in your WIP to post then share with five author friends.
As I've already completed one version of the Challenge as Aurelia B Rowl, I've delegated the next 2 to Allie ;o) I'm only 700-odd words into my current WIP so will have to duck into the WIP I submitted at the weekend too...
Of all the stunts she’d pulled over the years, this one had to be the dumbest.
Euphemia Carrington-Faulkes kept her eyes closed and her head down as she waited inside the plush vault of books, collected over several generations. Being summoned to the library did not bode well. Nor did the nauseated churning sensation in her stomach, threatening to overflow and make a bid for freedom.
Footsteps approached, setting firecrackers off with rapturous vigor inside her brain and her pulse spiked. Was it time to face the music already? No, the footsteps were wrong, too soft… A cool hand pressed against her clammy forehead, bringing blessed relief. “You look positively green, Mia, have you taken anything for the headache?”
She shook her head and regretted it instantly as kettle drums bounced and rolled inside her brain whilst flashes and sparks danced behind her eyelids. At least there was a bathroom just next door if she ended up having to make a run for it.
The hand belonging to the equally soothing voice moved to rest her on the shoulder. “You sit tight, I’ll be right back.”
Mia coughed but it did little to clear the razor blades squatting in her throat. “Thanks, Ginny,” she croaked, peeling her eyelids apart in order to see the housekeeper. The dappled sunlight tiptoeing through the voiles might as well have been a spotlight shining on her face and she quickly shut them again. “You’re a star.”
#3 For One Night Only
An inferno raged between her legs, total sensory overload, if she didn't have him soon she was going to melt. Scratch that. She couldn't wait a minute longer. Casting her gaze around the room, she snatched hold of his hand and tried to drag him off the crowded dance floor. His eyebrows raised in question. "Come with me," she said, dodging between their fellow dancers.
Whether it was the look in her eyes or because her double meaning wasn't lost on him, he took the lead. He cleared a path far more effectively, his stature and body language screaming 'get out of my way' and he looked more than prepared to knock anyone over who happened to get in their way.
He halted at the edge and she pointed to the alcove, it grew more inviting by the second as he went all 'tough guy' on her. He nodded and almost yanked her arm out of its socket in his haste to get there.
Safely enveloped in the darkness, the bass pounded through the soles of her boots and echoed inside her ribs. She lunged and caught his face in her hands, pulling him down to kiss him, her tongue forcing a route past his surprised lips and delving into the wetness of his mouth. "Take me," she breathed. Her hand stole over the carved ridges of his stomach, following the arrow-shaped path down to wear it disappeared into his jeans. "Please…"
His mouth opened and closed and he glanced over his shoulder at the heaving dance floor. "But—"