With the car safely parked and the door opened she tries to leap out of the passenger side, but her safety belt is still attached, and she gets slung back in. A quick undo and she's out of the purple beast and is next to Rafe, jumping on him, kissing him when she can, undoing a button here... there. All of it is an improvisation, a frenzy of urge.
Hanging on Rafe makes getting into his place more difficult as he unlocks the door, turns on a light. She's toeing the heel of her hightops, leaving them by the door along with her purse, he jacket forgotten in the back seat of the Minx.
There's just something happening here that is so spontaneous. It's a lovely reprieve to be this caught up in the here and now. "I want you," Oona tells Rafe, honestly. There should be no consequences to this obvious revelation. Her forward nature puts off some men. Some men take advantage of it. There's just a gut thump that tells her Rafe is not like them, that he appreciates her capacity for wanting what she wants.
"You smell so good." Her fingers undo the button of his pants, zipper pulled down, vest open. Her hands are working on his shirt. "I had such a crush on you when you came into my shoppe." Him and that smile. He had a great face. It was just such a relief that he had a great personality too.
Then the cookbook on the counter slammed on the floor. Oona jumped, startled. The drawers opened, utensils flying out, knives flying, stabbing the ceiling suspended. "What the fuck..." Oona doesn't dare raise her voice. She whispers it, afraid that something else might happen.
It does.
Then the faucet of his sink burst and water started pouring out of it as if it was a fountain.