Just the Thought of You Ch. 03

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Brunne
Brunne
277 Followers

He caught up with her just over the third rise. The rocky outcrop at the peak of the Tor loomed over the last bit of sloping hillside, and he got an arm around her waist just as they plunged into the shadow of the great stones. His full-body tackle had them both knocked down and rolling together on the uneven ground. Her squealing giggles filled his ears as he wrestled her back against the springy grass, pinning her down.

"Got you," he gasped, his lungs screaming at him for air and the blood roaring in his head, thudding through his body.

She went limp in his arms, finally giving up the chase, breathing as hard as he was between hiccuping giggles.

He shrugged his pack off to the side and rolled onto his back, still trying to catch his breath.

"Well, we're at the top," she murmured, breathless.

He hitched himself up on an elbow and looked around. They were at the base of the very top circle of the Tor. The valleys with their dark trees were far down below. They were at the top of this little part of the world, with only the crag of rock and the sky above.

"Wow." He combed his fingers through his hair, just taking in the view.

She sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees, and stared out. "It's beautiful, Jarod." Her eyes turned to him briefly, then back to the dotted green expanse below them.

He dug in his pack for the flask of tea he'd packed and dragged his eyes away from the view long enough to pour some into the plastic cap.

"Hey," he said, bumping his knuckles against her arm, offering her the drink.

She looked at him, eyelids lowered, and took the tea with a small smile of thanks.

He tipped his head back, drinking straight from the flask. The tea filled his mouth, hot and sweet. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes not leaving her. The slight breeze wound its way through the rocks behind them and tugged at her hair. She smoothed the strands back, tucking them behind her ear. That small, curving mystery of an ear, pale against the dark of her hair. Hot and sweet.

He still couldn't get a proper lungful of air. Still couldn't catch his breath. It had nothing at all to do with climbing a hill. Climbing didn't usually give him a hard-on.

"Steph."

She blinked a few times, turning her head towards him with a nearly imperceptible widening of her eyes.

"Come here."

She hesitated for the merest of seconds. But she then rolled up onto her knees and came to a stop next to him.

He leaned on his elbow and just let her fill his vision. His hands itched to touch her. To continue what they started with that kiss by the gate. But the eruptive thing inside him wanted too much, too soon. He had to take it slow. Slow, so he didn't scare her away as he always seemed to do.

He pushed himself up, shoving the backpack into gap at the bottom of the rock face, then propping himself against the cool stone at his back. He gestured with his hand, "Come."

She moved closer and he pulled her sideways across his lap, her shoulder tucked against his, her legs dangling across his knees.

It just felt so good to wrap his arms around her waist and tug her closer. His eyes closed the moment her head dropped to rest against his.

He breathed deep. He could just sit like this forever. With the world in his embrace. He could just sit here.

He tilted his head, and her mouth came seeking his without question. Just pressing tight to his. He tried to stifle his groan, but couldn't. God, he wanted her. His hips flexed of their own accord, and he caught her whimpered moan with his mouth. Her hands gripped at his arms, and he had to pull her tighter just to stop her shifting against him. His cock was so hard it was painful.

What was wrong with him? They were on an open hillside and all he wanted to do was strip her and fuck her till she screamed his name and begged him to let her come. Or make love to her so excruciatingly slow that she did the same thing.

He tangled a hand in her hair, pressing her mouth into his, punishing, pushing past her lips with his tongue, drinking in her soft moans.

How could it be that it was just as exciting? Just as overwhelming? The waves just as crashing-through-you-heavy as they had been the first time they'd kissed? How could he still be drunk for the taste of her mouth?

She was digging her fingers into his arm, her hip rocking against him in an attempt to bring their bodies closer together. But every movement was just setting off fireworks behind his eyes and the slow and the calm was melting away swiftly in the pool of heat she was creating. Dragging him down into it with that wicked little tongue of hers.

He pulled back from her, grunting with the effort it took.

It took him some breaths. His forehead leaning against hers. Took some time to understand what was stopping him, when everything in his body just said 'go'.

The pulse in her temple fluttered against his skin. Her fingertips brushed against his chin. Her thumb tracing along the bottom lip she'd just been making wet with her kisses. Whisper soft, just like her voice.

"What's wrong?"

He let out a short gust of breath, shifting his hips. Wincing at the sharp ache still there. But he couldn't just push past it. The thoughts just grew bigger and bigger until they filled up his head.

He hooked his fingers over her wrist, stroking that inner soft skin, letting her blood rush through delicate little veins just under his hand. All that life, just rushing around.

"Steph, why did you really change your mind? Why did you come all the way out here?"

* * * *

STEPHANIE

I couldn't breathe there, for a bit. Which didn't make sense. They were just a few words. But there was something heavy and impenetrable in the way he said them. Like he'd taken the massive stones of the outcropping around us and lifted them and twisted them into words and pushed them through the air, into my chest. And they weighed me down. So heavy.

I shook my wrist. Tried to shake off the light stroking of his fingers. All my skin prickled and the touch nearly hurt. He wasn't letting me go either. He had me around the waist, his arm like an iron band. Tight. When he did release my wrist, he just went for my chin instead, thumb and finger gripping, pulling my face around to his.

His eyes said he wasn't going to repeat himself.

I attempted a wriggle, but got nowhere.

"I already told you-"

"What?"

I tried to shrug and swallow and look away from him all at the same time. Anything to escape the way he was staring at me.

"You know. To talk. We needed to talk-"

The arm clamped tighter around my waist, then loosened by the smallest margin, but only because he was using that hand to tug at my coat and my cardigan and the vest top underneath. Burrowing through my ridiculous layers of clothing until his fingertips drifted across the bare skin of my stomach.

My breath caught in my throat.

Why was he doing that? Why would he do that?

He dragged me even tighter against the unyielding tension of his body. He was spun so tight.

"Try again."

"Look, Jarod, what do you want me to-"

"Try again."

So I tried to talk. Tried to put words together while his hand started slow circles on my stomach. Then lower than my stomach, digging in between the waistband of my jeans and my bare skin. I managed something between a gasp and a gargle.

"What was that?" He practically purred in my ear. If purring could be ice-cold and made of metal and not fuzzy-warm at all. He shifted his fingers from where they grasped my chin and ran his hand slowly down my throat instead. Pressed my head back to his shoulder, stretching me, arching my neck.

I whimpered, uselessly.

"Go on."

My mind danced back over everything, clawing at my thoughts, trying to sift through them for something adequate to say. I was taking too long, and his hand pressed just a little tighter.

"I wanted to...be with you," I shivered.

It was a weak answer, and I paid for it with the delving hand finding new nakedness underneath all my clothes. Oh god. I knew it was meant to be some sort of torture, but the ache between my legs was just buzzing now. I was this close to begging him to dig those fingers just a little further down and-

"That's it? Just wanted to be with me?"

I nodded.

This time his hand did shove harder between all the layers and found its way under my underwear.

His breath burned hot on my ear.

"Are you sure you didn't just come for this?"

His fingers stretched and curled, caught tight inside my clothes, the fingertips dipping into the wet mess between my legs and flicking against my clit along the way.

I pushed at him, squealing with the pain-pleasure of it. Tried to pull at the hand on my neck. Scrabbling with my feet on the grass. But he had me pinned to him. And his fingers slid deeper. Slick and chill against the heat of my aching body. Burning cold. Ohhh.

"You like this, hmm?" Rumbled low and arrogant into my ear.

"God...yes-"

"So greedy."

His hand was gone and I was left with with the burning ache, my hips arching in protest. But he was working at the button on my jeans. Wrestling with the zipper. He swore under his breath, letting go of my throat so that he could use both hands. Grabbed handfuls of the fabric and yanked my jeans down first one leg, then the other. I could feel the cool air dance along the tops of my thighs but was too burning-up hot to care.

"

Shoes off," he grunted. He had my jeans down to my knees now.

I obeyed, pushing at the heel of my trainer with the toe of the other until it tipped off into the grass. I must have taken too long, because he grabbed my ankle and pulled my other shoe off. It landed somewhere behind me. He made short work of getting my jeans off the rest of the way, leaving my sock feet dangling.

The cool air goose-pimpled my bare legs. I curled my shoulder into his chest and pulled my knees up, suddenly feeling incredibly naked out there in the fresh air. What if someone came up the path? If I squeezed my eyes closed then maybe I wouldn't have to think about how out in the open we were. I contracted into an even smaller ball.

He groaned and shifted his hips under me. "Fuck-"

"Sorry..."

"Sorry? For what?"

"I thought I...I thought I hurt you-"

He flexed his hips again, lewdly grinding the hard ridge of his erection against me.

"Not quite."

I pressed my hand to my mouth, but even that didn't stifle my moan. Another roll of his hips and his lips were at my ear again.

"You want that, huh? You want my cock?"

He was burrowing under my shirt again, with his free hand this time, taking full advantage of me clinging to his lap. His palm burned against my stomach, smoothing in circles that made my head throb. God, I wanted...needed him to rub those circles lower. But what if someone saw-?

Like some extension of my own brain his fingers dipped lower, searching underneath the thin fabric of my panties. When he found the wetness again I just tried to keep breathing and gave up on holding in my moans. I just needed his hands on me. His fingers in me. Fucking me. I needed his fingers fucking me so badly.

"Jarod...please-"

He moved his other hand, no longer clamping my waist with his arm, but sliding the flat of his large, warm hand up along my throat. Stroking with his whole palm, pressing my head back against his shoulder, opening my neck to him. Arching my body. But still he didn't put his mouth on me. Just let his warm breath flow over my skin. And called me a fucking little slut.

I melted. Everything, with a sigh and a moan, just melted.

He chose that moment to push into me with two fingers. Fast, rough. I might have screamed if his mouth hadn't clamped down on mine. If his tongue wasn't pressing in on mine, thrusting just as his fingers were. Invading me and taking me. All I could do was shake and whimper and buck against his fingers, begging him for more.

He pulled his mouth from mine, his voice hard-edged and breathless.

"See? I know why you're here. I know why you got on that train. You're just a little slut who wants to be fucked."

"No, Jarod-"

"No?"

He rolled, then. Tipped me backwards onto the cold, wet grass and rolled on top of me. Had me by the wrists, pressing them into the ground. Had my legs pushed apart with his bracing knees. He hung over me, panting.

I struggled. I really struggled against him this time. Against the indignity of being spread out on some godforsaken hill in just my underwear. Against the claustrophobia of the questions. Against the look in his eyes, dark and wild and relentless. Immovable. I pulled until my wrists hurt and my hair was in a tangle over my face and the sweat prickled angrily down my back, the grass tickling at the backs of my thighs.

"Let me go-"

"Not until you answer me."

The breath caught in my throat in a sob. There was just nowhere to go.

I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. Panic was close by, eating at the bottom of my lungs, stealing my air. But the truth just kept coming, bubbling up hot and fast.

"Jarod I-" The blood pounded so hard and heavy in my head I could barely hear myself.

"What?"

I steeled myself. Drew in everything I had in my body and braced myself. Closed my eyes tight.

"I-... I love you."

He went very still. As in, stopped-breathing still.

I waited. Waited for what came next.

And kept waiting.

In the end I had to open my eyes, because the what-next didn't come, just more stillness.

I tried to shake the hair out of my eyes. Afraid of what I would see.

He was staring down at me with a wild, haunted look on his face. Fuck.

My chin raised up a notch.

"I love you and I don't care if you don't. I do."

He took a sharp breath and seemed to collapse half-way. Then he scooped an arm around me and I wasn't underneath him any more. He was rolling onto his back with me in tow and I was draped over his body, over his heaving chest. And he was kissing any part of me he could reach, my cheeks, the palm of my hand, my lips.

* * * * *

JAROD

Whatever he'd been expecting her to say, it certainly hadn't been that. Had it? He knew he hadn't actually believed what he was saying. Hell, it was half-game, half utter nonsense. But something had just pushed. That restless, harsh, dark voice inside him had pushed him to push her. And there it was, the answer to the darkness, tumbling out of nowhere.

The words were still rattling through his body, letting off small explosions wherever they bumped up against whatever was left of any rational thought or feeling.

He had his lips pressed to her forehead. Just clutching her to his chest like some sort of madman. But he couldn't bring himself to let go. He could feel her breathing hard, her chest rising and falling and pressing into his. And the pulse under his lips. Fast, so fast. Like they'd both run a marathon race and collapsed together at some unmarked finish line.

Her hair slipped, cool and soft through his fingers. He rubbed a strand with his thumb, just letting it tumble with all its minute strands against his skin.

He brought a hand up to cradle her chin, tilting it up. She kept her eyes lowered, but they soon flickered up to his. Steadied and looked at him straight. Eyes a man could fall into and drown in and still keep falling.

She was trembling. He ran a hand down to her legs. Cold. And still damp from the grass he'd been rolling her into. Damn it.

When she started a more violent shiver, he took her face in both hands, kissing her cheek, her chin.

"Babe, hey...just let me get the blanket out, okay?"

He pushed himself up onto an elbow, still holding her as close as he could. It nearly dislocated his shoulder digging into the pack with one hand, but he managed to wrestle the blanket out. Shaking the folds out as best he could, he carefully rolled her off his lap and onto it. Grabbing the far corners, he pulled the blanket up around her, tucking the tartan fabric around her feet. Finally satisfied that she wouldn't die of hypothermia, he leaned back against his pack, one arm firmly around her shoulders.

She curled up to his chest, one hand just resting there. There was no way she couldn't feel how his heart was pounding. Still.

He swallowed. A small worm of panic was beginning to make its way up through his gut. He had heard her right. He hadn't just imagined it?

He stroked a thumb along her dark, silky eyebrow, coaxing her to look at him. Searching her face as if he could see the truth there.

"Could you-" He stopped. Took a breath.

"Could you say it. Again."

The hand on his chest grasped his shirt in a slow fist. Her eyes closed, then opened, looking into his. Her chest rose in deep breath.

"I love you, Jarod."

He knew that look now. The nakedness in her eyes that meant a voice somewhere inside her was screaming at her to run away, fast. But she held on. Held on tight and took him with her.

The kiss was slow. Careful. As if it was the first ever kiss and fragile and completely new. Hot and sweet.

* * * * *

STEPHANIE

His mouth was very rapidly helping me forget about how freezing cold my ass was. One second he was stringing me out on the ground and the next he was tucking me in? Could I be blamed for having a hard time keeping up?

What I did want to keep up with was the slow flicker of his tongue along the inside of my top lip. It had me clenching my thighs together, seized by a nearly painful throb of just plain needing him. He'd been much too hasty taking those fingers away. Much.

And what did I have to lose? I'd just blurted out my innermost and it was just...out there. Some major portion of my insides were still paralysed with fear at what I'd done. Said. Admitted.

Granted, the large, wide palm he'd just burrowed under the blanket and run around my waist and up my back underneath my shirt was a fairly good clue that I hadn't made too colossal a mistake.

His tongue wasn't nearly satisfied with just keeping company with my lips and was now curling along my own, teasing. Causing more thigh-clenching. Damn him. And his hand had wandered down my back and was enjoying itself in a slow, delicious, grasping grope of my ass.

He groaned against my mouth, too, so I knew it wasn't just me that was becoming steadily oblivious to the fact we were barely concealed between some rocks on the top of an open hillside. What was concerning me more was how many clothes we had on, and how warm it was getting under this damned picnic blanket.

I couldn't get my hand between us properly to undo my own layers, so I had to be satisfied with tugging his t-shirt out of the back of his jeans in search of bare skin. God, his skin was so hot. Fever hot.

I didn't get any further than my fingertips drifting briefly over his back.

His hand came up to span my jaw, tilting my face to his, kissing me hungrily. Like a starving man. His thumb grazed the skin just under my ear, back and forth. All I could do was clutch at his arm and kiss him back.

* * * * *

JAROD

He wasn't going to do this. Not going to screw her on a hillside somewhere when she'd just confessed her love for him. That sort of thing called for four-poster beds and cart-loads of rose petals and those little tea-light candles burning everywhere. And champagne. You said that sort of thing over champagne. Not lukewarm tea out of a hiking flask.

But hot and sweet, her mouth kept demanding his. How could she taste so good? Like everything he ever wanted.

Even half mindless he had a sense that something had changed. Happened. In him. To him.

It was as if he had been tethered to some massive, invisible weight, and the cord binding it to him had just...severed. Snapped. Broken away from him and fallen far and fast and left him weightless. Suspended and light. Buzzing with an odd numbness. Did those few, small words really have the power to do that to a person?

Brunne
Brunne
277 Followers