The Mix-Up

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She's double booked into a hotel room with Jason Momoa.
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It took a moment for the light to wake him up. Jason eyes opened slowly, barely more than slits when he realized that the light which had invaded his sleep was coming from the bathroom. He glanced around, not recognizing his surroundings. It took him a second to remember that he was in a hotel room. He looked toward the bathroom again, arguing with himself that, of course he had turned the bathroom light off, just as he had closed the curtains tightly. He'd been suffering some decent jet lag when he got to the hotel, and had passed out quite promptly. Just as he was about to get up to investigate the apparently faulty bathroom light, the music turned on. His eyes went wide as an arm could be seen at the edge of the bathroom door, removing a blouse of some kind.

His mind raced. He searched his mind for a moment, wondering if he'd been so tired he forgot bringing a girl to the room with him. After a second he discounted that. They'd left the airport, met the cars, been brought to the hotel, and checked in with the convention staff. Then he'd come straight to the room. There was no way he'd have had time to pick up a girl. Ok, maybe he would've had time, but he was definitely not motivated to hit on one of the convention goers who had seen him enter the hotel, drooling and already clutching memorabilia in hopes of seeing a wandering guest.

In fact, Jason now recalled Hewlitt throwing him a "you suck" look, when he realized Jason had intentionally waited to enter the hotel lobby until a group of fans had cornered David. Jason had snuck past quickly and practically bolted for the elevator while David was already signing a teddy bear and listening to a 19 year old girl tell him that McKay was the funniest character ever. Jason grinned, remembering the darts Hewlitt had shot with his eyes, when he realized Jason had held the door for him and then stood back long enough to use him as a decoy.

His eyes bulged again, as he wondered if she was a fan, here for the convention, and had decided it would be cool to sneak into "Ronon's" room. Just then the song changed on whatever she was listening to. He recognized it instantly. He quickly dismissed the possibility she was a stalking fan. If her intent was to sneak into bed with him, she wouldn't be playing music loud enough to wake him up. And if she'd intended to seduce him and wake him with music, she might've picked Barry White, but not Sara Bareilles.

Jason's eyes narrowed in curiosity as he heard her humming along to the song. A few more bars in, she was singing along. He smiled. She had a fair voice, definitely some natural talent. He imagined she could even sing professionally, with a little instruction. He briefly saw a skirt flit into the edge of the door frame, and a shapely hip was clearly visible, just under the surface. It disappeared briefly, returning a moment later, before slipping from his sight again. He realized she was dancing to the music, and his eyes crinkled in charmed amusement as the grin spread on his face. She hit a note clearly, giving it just a slight hint of soul. He laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and just listened to her.

Whatever talent she lacked, she made up for in her style and joy. She sounded so full of life and hope. Just from listening to her, he knew how much she loved to sing. He saw the light change in the room as she walked past the bathroom door. He turned, and could hear her putting things away. He turned back toward the bathroom door, and slide further to the other side of the bed. He wasn't sure if she would see him with the bathroom light on, and if she turned any other lights on he was screwed, but he couldn't bring himself to reveal his presence yet. He wanted to see her, wanted to delay her freaking out and running screaming from the room. He started to imagine what she looked liked, but quickly stopped himself. He didn't want to imagine some goddess and feel disappointment when she looked like a normal woman, and he didn't want to slip into a vision of some girl in an Evil Willow costume he'd seen at DragonCon last year. As it turned out, he didn't have time to come up with anything.

He tried not to laugh as she spun around the door frame, gracefully settled on the arm of the small loveseat against the wall, ripping her socks off like she was some jock in a locker room. He could only see three quarters of her face, but it was enough. She had short dark blonde hair, just above her shoulders. The bulk of her hair was tucked behind her ear, but a small piece hung smoothly against her cheek. Her cheekbones were high, framing her soft and smiling eyes. She wasn't gorgeous, not by any stretch. But she was very cute, and the playful look in her eyes was enough to darken his eyes with desire, while he smiled broadly. She was endearing, charming, and...she had really nice legs. His eyes slid down shapely calves to slightly larger than average feet. She wasn't waifish, and somehow it fit her. She was far too passionate - judging by her singing - to be some twig or muscle woman. She was someone who loved a good piece of cheesecake, but was active enough to have an extra piece now and then.

As she stood, he noticed the nightgown more clearly. He figured it was jersey, by the texture of the gray material. It had small straps and was trimmed in blue grey. It wasn't designed to tantalize, it was comfortable. But it still sported a deep neckline, displaying her more than ample cleavage nicely, and it stopped at the midpoint of smooth creamy thighs. He thought it was something a woman might pack when taking a trip to meet a boyfriend's parents. With a robe, it was modest enough, but alone it was alluring enough to convince him to have sex in his childhood bed.

He was careful not to move as she put her socks on the suitcase sitting on the loveseat. He was relieved when she didn't spot his suitcase, in a corner near the dresser, with the pile of discarded clothes he left next to it. He was also grateful for the king bed that allowed him to be unnoticed on the far side, as she turned off the bathroom light and felt her way across the room. She pulled back the side of the blankets, undisturbed as he'd slept deeply on the other side of the bed. He could just make out the edge of the nightgown lifting as she slid her legs under the blanket and tried to pull it up high on her chest. She yanked a couple of times, and he recalled how shortly they had fitted the sheet and blanket to this bed.

"Oh, for crying out loud. Would you give me a frigging break already?" He forced himself to be still, as the laughter tried to rack his body. She'd said it with an overzealous enthusiasm for conversing with an inanimate object - the way one only does when they are certain they're alone. Finally she tugged hard, inadvertently pulling the blanket off of him slightly. She managed to get the blanket high enough to suit her. Her eyes were already closed as she turned on her side, facing him, and settled to go to sleep. He listened to her breath, debating what to do. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he noticed her closed eyes narrow in confusion, and he realized his own breathing was now noticeable, in the still quiet of the room. Her eyes flitted open briefly, and went wide as they connected with his.

"Don't scream." Even as he said it, he realized the husky tone in his voice probably sounded more than a bit menacing. He was already imagining touching her. Plus, since she hadn't been in the dark long enough for her eyes to adjust, he wasn't sure she would recognize him, even if she did watch the show. He tried not to cringe, anticipating her screeching in hysterics at a stranger - and rather large and imposing - man in her bed.

"OK." She said quietly, clearly stunned but hardly panicking. "Are you who I think you are?"

He held his breath. "Probably."

"Alright, would you mind telling me what you're doing in my room?"

He smiled, "I think you mean my room."

She looked like she was trying not to return his smile, "Nope, pretty sure I meant my room. I checked in an hour ago"

"Well, I checked in..." he pushed up a little to see the clock on the nightstand, "5 hours ago, so I think I have dibbs."

She did smile now, most definitely not scared. "Someone screwed up."

He settled back down, casually inching a little closer. "So it would seem."

She blew a stray lock of hair out of her eyes as she rolled them. She turned over to look at the nightstand, then turned back to him, "Well, the phones not on my side, so it must be over there. Care to do the honors?"

He tried not to look disappointed, but failed miserably. As he rolled over to reach for the phone, he saw her grin and a blush spread across her cheeks. He barely managed to communicate the situation to the desk clerk who answered the phone. All he could think about was keeping this adorable creature exactly where she was. He realized, with no pretense or effort, she had totally captivated him. He struggled not to shout in joy as the desk clerk informed him of the full capacity of the hotel, while profusely apologizing for the mix-up. He wondered just how much convincing this would take, "Hang on a second."

He turned to her. The look in her eyes confused him at first, until he realized she'd been staring at his bare back while he was on the phone. Her eye lids were heavy and he could see her breathing was a little harder. He bit back a growl. He forgot about the phone for a moment, staring at her slightly parted lips, desperate to taste them. Her eyes met his briefly, before darting away shyly. She turned on her back, apparently attempting to collect herself. Jason smiled. "So, they're packed."

She didn't look at him, "You don't say?"

He tried not to chuckle, "And it turns out, so are pretty much all the other hotels in the area."

She took a deep breathe, "I guess that's what happens when the geeks descend."

He couldn't help himself, he laughed deeply. He saw her lips curl and her shoulders shake for a second. "I don't think they like being called that."

She turned on her side to look him in the eye, "Some of us do."

Jason grinned. She was here for the convention; she was one of the throngs of fans, potentially even one of the slightly scary ones. He liked most of them, loved how into it they got sometimes - though there were always a few that made him nervous, who got a little too into it. But she couldn't be one of them, it was impossible. She wasn't attacking him like a 14 year old girl encountering a Beatle. She was calm, poised, and definitely wanting him. "I could sleep on the couch."

She smiled at him in mirth, "You're 6'4. You can barely sit on that couch", she clearly noted his surprise. "Yes, I know how tall you are. I'm 5'4". Short girls always check out how tall men are."

He laughed again, which set her off, but she got quiet pretty fast when the blanket slipped lower than she liked. She immediately dipped her head and readjusted the blanket. He sobered, realizing she was shyer than the earlier look of desire might suggest. He spoke softly, trying to settle her nerves. "It's late. You should stay here."

She looked up at him. There was no trace of her shyness now. As she moved a little closer, the blanket giving way again, she didn't notice. She looked him dead in the eyes, reading him, surveying him, stripping him bare and absorbing his gaze. He felt like she was truly accessing his soul, and he held his breath again, terrified of coming up short in her estimation. After a moment, her eyes softened, and she smiled. His lungs burned slightly as he released his breath.

"It is late." Her look told him everything he needed to know. She would stay, and as long as he expected nothing, he might just get anything his heart and mind desired.

He turned back to the phone, trying to slow his heart beat down, as he assured the desk clerk that neither he nor the lady was livid, and that the he didn't need to call the manager right now. After a little time calming the frantic clerk, he brought his own body under some sense of control. He explained that the lady had volunteered to sleep on his couch, to settle the matter until morning, since they were both very tired. He wondered if the clerk would believe any of this, if he knew the lady in question was lying in bed beside him, wearing a glorified tank top. Finally he managed to disentangle himself from the conversation and hung up the phone. He hesitated for a second, and then turned over quickly as he felt the bed spring up a little. She was just standing as he came to settle on his elbow.

"Where are you going?"

She was reaching for a robe lying across the arm of the loveseat. She slipped it on, tied the belt, and turned to him. "To the living room."

Jason debated on getting out of bed, but decided that bounding toward her in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs was not necessarily a good idea at this point. "Why?"

She sighed. "To sleep on the couch."

Jason felt a little panic grip his chest as he imagined spending the rest of the night, alone in this bed, knowing she was only a few feet away. He struggled to keep his voice calm and soothing, "You don't need to sleep on the couch."

He thought she closed her eyes, but it wasn't sure if it was a trick of the little light in the room, "Jason..."

"What's your name?"

He was sure he saw her eyes open in surprise at the question. She hesitated for a moment, "Kat."

He smiled, it suited her. "Kat, can I tell you something?"

He saw her breath catch when he said her name. She slid one hand up the arm of the other, letting it disappear inside the sleeve. "What?"

He tried to keep his breathing steady and his tone soft, making sure he didn't scare her, as he let the words drip over her, "I would give nearly anything to kiss you right now." He saw her breathing pick up and her eye lids were dipping down again.

He got out of the bed with slow deliberation. He tried not to stalk toward her like some predatory animal, but he wasn't sure he'd suppressed himself enough. He had to get close enough to touch her. Once he did that, he'd find a way to keep her in this room. As he approached, he noticed just how significant the height difference was. He stopped a couple of feet away, seeing that she'd noticed it too. Her eyes were a little wide, but he did note how they strayed down his body and back up, want etched into them by the time they reached his again. He reached out a hand, holding it in front of her, begging with his look for her to give her own. She took a shaky breath and the reached up to put her hand in his.

He smiled softly, but with definite glow of victory in his eyes. She saw it, and gave him a smile that warned he hadn't won her just yet. It was enough though, and it only emboldened him more. He led her over to the loveseat. He sat on the arm, where she had earlier removed her socks, and they were nearly at eye level. He pulled her closer, between his thighs, and saw her avoid looking down. He grinned broadly as he took her other hand in his and stared intently.

"Kat, I know you don't know me. And I know I don't know you. But touching you is all I can think about right now. It's insane, I realize this, but it's the truth. But I'm not expecting anything. If you choose to walk out that door, I won't stop you, though I'll kick myself in the ass for it, for years to come."

She laughed for a second, and then met his eyes again, smiling. His looked sobered as he lifted one arm and kissed the pulse point of her wrist. He let his lips linger there for a moment, feeling her heartbeat speed up, before lowering her hand to hold atop their joined ones.

He saw her eyes close slightly, and he could almost imagine her mind forming risk to reward ratios. Finally she grinned at him, and took a step closer. She shook her head and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she leaned in and put her hand aside his cheek. He closed his eyes, savoring her touch, which is why he was surprised a moment later when her lips settled on his. His eyes nearly popped open, but immediately stilled as he felt her mouth move over his own. He let her take the lead for a few seconds, fighting to hold back his own desperate desire, but when her lips parted and he felt her tongue slip into his mouth, he lost control. He pulled her closer, melding her body to his, as he took her mouth with abandon. It only took a moment for her to let go and join his fury. Her arms fell over his shoulders and she began to stroke his back, pulling them even tighter together.

When her hand strayed into his hair, and she gave herself completely to the kiss, he truly knew what it was to lose control. He used one arm behind her back to pull her tight to his chest. He slipped the other arm under her legs and stood, sweeping her up and immediately carrying her to the bed. He never let go of her lips as he pressed her down into the mattress, settling himself between her thighs. He was unbearably hard, almost painfully so, but he tried to go slowly. When he finally pulled his mouth from hers, she gazed at him through partly closed eyes and this time he did growl. He shifted to the side and leaned in again, voraciously attacking her neck and taking turns sucking and biting the place where it met her shoulder; as he reached down to untie her robe.

The nightgown had been pulled down so that her full breasts were nearly falling out of it. He pulled one side down to liberate it, then slid his mouth down to take the nipple in his mouth, drawing on it hard. She cried out, arching her back, which forced the nipple deeper into his mouth. He moaned against it, trying desperately not to rip the clothes off of her body and take her. He could barely breathe he was so overwhelmed with need. He slid his hand down across her stomach, then down one thigh. As he pulled the other breast from her nightgown, he slid his hand back up her thigh, pulling her nightgown up until he could touch her bare rounded stomach. Her skin was on fire, and it fueled him on. He looked up. Her head was back, her eyes closed, and she was running her fingers through his hair as she gasped. He chuckled again as he dipped his lips to take in her other nipple, making her moan loudly.

He slid his hand down again, slipping it under the waistband of her panties, teasing the curls between her thighs. He was about to slide his fingers into her already wet pussy when he felt her pushing at his shoulders. He looked up in surprise, terrified that she'd spooked. But the look in her eyes was playful and mischievous. She gently shoved him back enough so she could slip off of the bed. He propped himself up on his shoulders, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed as he watched her slip off the robe. She grinned at him as he sat back, lifted his hips, and worked off his boxer briefs. She pulled the nightgown off over her head, tossing it aside. He devoured her with his eyes as she let her gaze fall on his hard cock, standing up, begging to be satisfied. He kicked his briefs away as she slipped off her panties and followed suit. She stood for a second, asking with a swish of her hips, if he liked what he saw.

He growled again, "Come here." She smiled and crawled onto the bed, coaxing him backward until only his feet were over the edge of the bed. He sat up, pulling her close as she slide her body down against his, gliding her pussy over his aching cock. She toyed with him, lightly scoring his chest with her fingernails, as she rubbed against him. She leaned close, let her lips just grazing his, then pulling back again. He let her play, content for the moment to enjoy the feel of her. But it didn't last. When she leaned to the side to nibble at his shoulder, he reached out and grabbed her. He flipped them over, once again settling between her thighs, but this time he forced them wider, positioning himself.

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