Summer Heat (UC, Mi/L, Adult) 3/29 Complete

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Ashita
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Summer Heat (UC, Mi/L, Adult) 3/29 Complete

Post by Ashita »

Title: Summer Heat
Disclaimer: The characters and concepts of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, and 20th Century Fox. They are not mine and no infringement is intended.
Pairings: Michael/Liz
Rating: Adult
Summary: Some drabbles/vignettes that don't fit into the Forbidden Dreams universe. I had originally posted the first in Forbidden Dreams, but moved it into a separate post as I didn't want to confuse anyone. Post Grad. So far prompts are Tease, Taunt, Smolder, Ignite, Burn and Combust. Will be happy to take prompt suggestions for this universe. Ummm...as it stands, this is PWP. But we all saw what happened the last time I attempted straight PWP...it went epic. LOL! I'll try to avoid that this time.

AN:Here are the first two in the series. Tease was originally called Liquid in Forbidden Dreams if it sounds familiar.
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Tease

Wilting under the oppressive burn of a late summer heatwave, she slumped against the counter pressing an ice-cold bottle of water against her neck and let out an annoyed sigh, cursing the cheap super for the lack of air conditioning in the current hellhole she and Michael were living in this year. Who ever heard of having no air conditioning in the Deep South?

The hot humid air wrapped around her, clinging to her sweltering skin like a wet blanket as she sunk lower, resting her forehead against the blue Formica laminate, molasses strands damply pasted to her flushed cheeks.

Panting shallowly, Liz drew the thick, soupy air into her lungs with difficulty and shuddered slightly when drops of condensation fell from her water bottle, the icy liquid sliding over her neck. Breathing a sigh of relief at the subtle respite, she couldn’t help but wonder where her wayward roommate had wandered off to this time.

When they first met, she would have laughed if someone told her that Michael would be the alien whom she was closest to and that they’d end up roommates. But here she was, sharing another sweltering New Orleans summer with the cranky alien after cutting ties with the group two years prior.

Protecting the group yet again, this time from the cold wall of silence that had built between Max and herself, she packed her bags and left in the dead of night without explanation, planting false evidence behind to keep them from tracking her down. She figured her plan was fool proof and would lead the others astray.

She was wrong and unbeknownst to her; she didn’t leave alone that night.

The stool shifted beneath her, drawing her out of her thoughts as the damp vinyl sucked at her clammy thighs and she searched for a comfortable position to no avail. The heat radiated over her skin in waves, matting her shirt and shorts to her frame. It was hell. That’s all there is to it – she died and was in the seventh level of purgatory. It was the only thing that explained this blistering heat.

What she needed was ice – lots and lots of beautiful, cooling ice. Now if only she actually had the energy to get off the stool and fetch said ice. Maybe she can do it with her powers.

“Lazy much, Parker?” Michael cracked, chuckling under his breath when she lifted a limp hand and flipped him off. Leaning against the counter, his caramel eyes drifted over the expanse of her mostly bare back lazily, taking in the faint sheen of sweat on smooth golden skin. God those little tops were going to be the death of him this summer. “Someone’s moody.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Liz tilted her head slightly to look up at her best friend and glared at him balefully while he continued to chuckle and she pressed the water bottle to her the other side of her neck, trying to ease more of her heated skin.

“You know what we need?” he whispered, leaning over to press his lips near her ear, almost missing the shiver that coursed through her body as his breath fanned over the curve of her ear. Almost. Smirking smugly at her response, he trailed a finger down one shoulder, over her arm, watching her breath hitch slightly. “A swim.”

“No suits,” she replied listlessly, shuddering yet again when he came up behind her, his slick bared chest hovering over her back, adding a whole new level of heat to her already fevered skin. Damn him, did he have to be so close?

“Who says we need them?” he breathed, his low, husky chuckle teasing her ear and let his comment dangle enticingly for a minute as her cheeks flushed a deeper pink. Good to know he’s not the only one fighting the attraction between them. “Just put on a tank and your jog shorts and I have my boxers. It’s close enough.”

“I’m not getting into a pool full of kids with you dressed like that,” she grumbled, prying her head off the counter to meet his heated gaze, inadvertently pressing her back into his chest, a different fire coursing through her veins at contact. Hissing under her breath as their skin slid together, she smirked slightly when an answering gasp passed his lips.

She knew they were playing with fire – but what a delicious way to burn.

“I have something else in mind,” he smirked, rising up slowly, purposely dragging callused fingers over her spine, drawing another shiver over her body. Yeah, he was just asking for it today, but was beyond caring, having stifled his desire for this woman for years. Smoldering brandy irises slid over her back once more. It would only take a slight flick of hand and that handkerchief she had the nerve to call a top would be a memory.

But everything has its place and time – he could wait her out.

“What’s that?” she queried, cocking her brow as she turned on the stool to face him, gasping when her movement sent more condensation dripping over her neck and chest. She quirked her lips as he watched the water droplets slide over her skin, licking his lips unconsciously. Setting her water bottle down, she closed her eyes, tipping her head back and ‘innocently’ pressed chilled, wet fingers to her throat, sliding them over her skin, sighing as they brought her searing skin some relief.

She smiled, his pained grunt music to her ears – hook, line and sinker.

“That’s my secret,” he smiled smugly seeing her ploy for what it was and eyes sparkling devilishly, he strode forward, crowding her into the counter, placing his hands on each side of her caging her in. Meeting darkened chocolate eyes, her shallow breaths fanning over his chest, sending gooseflesh dancing across his skin, he watched as she shifted back subtly, trembling fingers gripping the stool. “Scared, Parker?”

So she wanted to play games? She forgot he was the master at this kind of play.

“Not at all,” she huffed, her dark eyes sparking as they traveled over the toned chest, wanting to reach out flick her tongue over each rippling muscle, suck in the sweet, salty, golden skin laid so temptingly before her. Ripping her mesmerized gaze away from him, she slipped from her perch on the stool, purposely brushing against him, loving his sharp intake of breath as she passed. “I’ll just go change and we’ll go.”

Two can play this game, she smirked, adding the slightest undulation to her hips as she walked out the door.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Parker,” Michael murmured huskily, not bothering to hide the double entendre as he watched her saunter out the door, body tightening at the subtle sway of hips. Drawing the thick air into burning lungs, he stared at the door moodily, groaning when he heard her answering call down the hallway.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Guerin!”

Eyes slamming shut, he moaned at the lilting promise that danced through her teasing words and clenched his fists to keep himself from stalking down the hall, throwing her over his shoulder and dragging her off to his room. As tempting as the thought was, he had a plan and timing was everything. He didn’t want to tip his hand just yet.

Fighting the rising heat coursing through his blood, he opened fiery whiskey eyes as he listened to the slight rustle of her getting ready and vowed that tonight, nothing and no one was going to stop him from making her his.


*~*~*~*~*


Taunt

Sunlight splashed over his shoulders, burning a path over his already baking skin as he sat on the bank of the pond, watching the petite brunette swim through the cooling liquid with inscrutable eyes as he undressed to join her. She’s haunted his every waking and sleeping thought for years, starting long before they left that night.

Well more, she left and he gave chase, unable to let her go, unwilling to let her face the world without some form of protection. He had known she had something planned by the way she avoided him, avoided them all after she and Max finally called it quits to their train wreck of a relationship. He just never expected her to leave without a word.

So he watched her carefully over the weeks and when he saw her load up her car in the dead of night, he grabbed his bag, always packed and waiting and gave her a brief head start, tailing her for two weeks before she caught on to his presence. To say that she was irritated when they finally came face-to-face was an understatement. But when it comes to stubborn persistence, he has her beat any day.

He can’t help but smirk when he remembers the night they ‘accidentally’ ran into each other on Bourbon Street. She gaped at him incredulously; fear flashing in her eyes momentarily as she hastily searched the area for the others before they darkened with temper, her cheeks flushing enticingly when she realized he was alone. His breath hitches every time at the memory.

“What are you doing here, Michael?” she hissed through clenched teeth, her fists balled in annoyed exasperation as he leaned against the building watching her inscrutably, biting back a smirk at the fire flashing in her ebony eyes.

Michael remained stoically silent as he took her in, seeing her up close for the first time in weeks, noting the circles under eyes were fading and she was losing that pinched, wan expression that had haunted her for months, losing her wraithlike gauntness. He hadn’t seen her so animated, so alive in years. It was breathtaking.

“Well?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at him and wondering how he found her so easily. With everything she left behind, and the images she planted in Isabel’s head when she tried to dreamwalk her, he should be on his way to California to look for her, not standing in front of her in New Orleans.

Shoving off the wall, he sauntered over, standing toe-to-toe with the petite brunette, looming over her despite knowing that it wouldn’t have an affect on her. It never had, but he couldn’t help but try. Tipping her head back, she met his intent gaze defiantly, daring him to try and drag her back.

“You didn’t say goodbye,” he accused softly, his caramel gaze finally sparking angrily, hurt that she had left without a word despite the friendship that had sprung up between them over the long hard years on the road. He thought he had meant more to her than that. “You didn’t even tell me you were leaving.”

“And this is my problem how, Michael?” she snorted acidly, back stiffening defensively at the words he hadn’t uttered, but were so clearly etched in his eyes. With Michael, it was always the eyes you had to watch. She knew he’d been hurt by her actions, but it was best for him, for all of them. She shrugged dismissively, needing to send him packing for his own good. “Why bother?”

“After everything we’d been through together, I deserved a goodbye,” he growled, knowing she was trying to push him away, having used the same ploys himself. She’d forgotten whom she was dealing with and it was time to remind her. No one knew how to build and destroy walls like he did.

“Fine, goodbye, Michael,” Liz smirked, turning on her heel to walk away, but was stopped by a hand grasping her wrist firmly, swinging her back around to meet smoldering whiskey eyes. Tugging on her wrist, she huffed when she realized he wasn’t going to release her until he was good and ready and impatiently waited for him to make his point.

“It won’t work, Liz.” Steely determination rang through his voice as he pressed his nose to hers; smiling smugly when her breath hitched and her tongue darted out to lick her lips nervously. He’ll take that victory, no matter how small a concession it was.

“Oooo, my first name,” she taunted, irritation and something he chose not to name simmering in the depths of her fathomless chocolate brown orbs and pressed back, meeting his challenge unflinchingly. “The big, bad general must be mad.”

“Know this, Parker,” he whispered resolutely, ignoring her taunts as he gripped her chin lightly, keeping her wary gaze anchored to his. “No matter where or how far you run, I’ll find you. You’re stuck with me. Deal with it.”

Narrowing her eyes, she ripped her chin from his grasp and fists clenching, she grit her teeth at his mocking laughter when she stalked off down the street. Blatantly ignoring him as he continued to walk just behind her, he knew her well enough to realize she was waiting him out, expecting him to get impatient and storm off when she didn’t respond. But he wasn’t the hotheaded boy she knew in Roswell.

The battle lines had been drawn.


A wet plop jarring him out of his memories, he sucked in a sharp breath and stared dumbly at a tiny, drenched tank top resting tauntingly at his feet. She didn’t.

Breath rushing in harsh pants, caramel eyes rose, burning with unconcealed desire and locked with an amused chocolate gaze, her brow quirked in challenge. Cocking his own in question, he reached down and drew the wet, dark blue material through his fingers, body tensing with need as his artist’s mind painted an all too enticing picture of water sliding over creamy mocha flesh.

“You said we wouldn’t need suits,” she murmured smugly, batting her eyes at him in mock innocence before a sultry smile slid over her face and shrugged a bare shoulder negligently. “I was just complying.”

Swiping his tongue over his lips slowly, he smirked, darkened eyes glinting dangerously and her breath quickened when smoldering brandy slid over golden swells and curves, searing flesh, sending liquid heat coursing through veins, her heart thrumming a staccato rhythm. Sliding his eyes back up to her face, he met molten chocolate, gesturing for her continuance, accepting her unspoken challenge and hissed when a tiny pair of shorts joined the top. Point for her.

Yes, the battle lines had been drawn indeed, but what a sweet triumph for the victor. And he had every intention of being the one to reap the spoils of war.

Languidly rising to his feet, he held her gaze, his hands straying to the fly of his pants, flicking the buttons open deliberately, grinning ferally when her gaze faltered, sliding down to watch his hands, lips parting in anticipation as he parted his jeans and slid them over his hips slowly. She gasped when the material hit the ground, pooling at his feet with a soft sigh and he kicked them away, resting his hands on his hips.

Fingering the edges of his boxers, he paused catching glowing ebony eyes, smiling wolfishly when her tongue darted out, flicking over parched lips when he slowly lowered them an inch, her breath falling in quick, soft puffs. Drawing his hands away, he smirked when she raised startled, gleaming eyes and cocked a brow at him.

“Even playing field, Parker,” he replied smugly, slipping into the water, hissing slightly as the cool water wrapped around hot skin, quickly submerging in the water and coming up in front of her, rivulets of water running over his chest as he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the dripping waves back. Crowding her up against the rock behind her, he leaned over, drawing his fingers over her arm slowly and pressed his lips to her ear. “Can’t get something for nothing, you know.”

“Really?” she purred, splaying a hand on his chest, the other hidden beneath the water, gripping the rock for balance. Stroking her hand over his chest to his shoulder, she bore down slightly, soft swelling skin brushing lightly against him, sending a bolt of electricity crackling along his nerves and he hissed, pressing her firmly to the rock as molten chocolate met smoldering whiskey, her other hand rising to eye level. “So what do these get me?”

Eyes shifting to her lofted hand, he fought for breath, spying a scrap of black lace dangling from her outstretched fingers before they landed on the bank with a soft plop. Slamming his eyes shut, his throat convulsed, raw lust raging through his veins. Game, set and match to the tiny brunette without a stitch on.

He was doomed.
Last edited by Ashita on Sat Apr 03, 2010 2:53 am, edited 8 times in total.
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Re: Summer Heat - drabbles (UC, Mi/L, Adult)

Post by Ashita »

Barbara - yeah sorry about that, it got a little lost in the rush of other chapters and drabbles, which is why I made a separate post. Should have done that in the first place. :) Glad you're enjoying the new series. :)

Carrie - Haha! Michael is breathtaking. ;) But now you know how I felt after reading the phone sex scene in Wrong Number. LOL! Brain activity at a minimum. ;) Funny you should mention the bookstore thing, my fiance has been on my case to write a book for several years and I'm starting to think about it seriously. LOL!

Jan - Yeah, he is doomed. I have to agree with the assessment of Liz's character post series end. Which is why I've always had a problem with reading post grad happily ever after stories. It just doesn't ring true to the life they were heading into. Between all the hurt and betrayal between them before they went on the run and then the perilous existence they were bound to lead running from the government and their enemies, it would put a lot of strain onto an already fragile relationship. Add to that, Liz's martyr tendencies and Max's control issues, you have a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. Plus, I've always thought that Michael and Liz made more sense as a pairing because each of them have strengths that balance the other's weaknesses. Thus my polarism was born.

AN: I've added a sixth prompt to this series, Ignite. So the series thus far is Tease, Taunt, Smolder, Ignite, Burn, Combust. Here's the next in the series.
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Smolder

“Christ, Parker,” he muttered under his breath, fighting to bring thick, heavy, perfumed air into his tightly constricted lungs, heart pounding as he realized that the woman was stark naked under all that murky green water. Make that one very naked body pressed to his, the only thing standing between them his tenting boxers and the gossamer threads of his rapidly dwindling control.

Gritting his teeth, he opened his eyes, golden brown fire raining over her as he caged her in, hot, damp breath whispering over her lips as he dipped his head, invading her space, trapping her against his rapidly hardening body. Running his hand over slick curves, he grunted at the confirmation of her nudity, biting back a moan as his hand slipped over the curve of her ass and pressed her soft, pliant body into his, staring down at her hungrily.

When he decided to stay despite her stubborn insistence that he leave her in peace, he never dreamed he’d be here in this moment. Never imagined that this woman would stand here, pressed intimately against his body, staring at him as if she were starving and he her favorite treat.

And he almost wasn’t.

If there was anything he has learned in his short life, it’s never underestimate the pure stubborn will of a woman bent on proving she doesn’t need you in her life. He shudders every time he thinks of the day he almost lost her because of her obstinacy. Had he said that he was bullheaded? Comparatively speaking, he was a lamb when it came to unyielding pride.

He made it a habit to follow her to work, sitting in the bar as she worked her shift, keeping careful watch over her as she moved through the party crowd, wary of the numerous frat boys and vacationers that seemed to think it was okay to grope the unsuspecting waitresses. Close to Mardi Gras, the crowd had been particularly rowdy tonight and there were many times he had to stop himself from flying to her rescue.

But they had come to a very reluctant agreement six months prior, that as long as she wasn’t in danger; he was to keep to himself and let her do her job and unfortunately a hand on the ass didn’t register as danger to the mull-headed woman. Thankfully, her shift was over and he could get her out of there before things got too far out of control.

Losing sight of her in the crowd when a new flood of party-goers poured in the doors, he searched for her distinctive bright red shirt and tiny black skirt, frantic when she was nowhere to be seen. Growling, he realized she had slipped out the door in an attempt to shake him and blood surging through his veins hotly, sherry eyes smoldering with anger, he pushed his way through the throng, dread curling through his stomach every moment he couldn’t see her.

Finally breaking through, he scanned the street intently; all of his senses on edge and tension crackled over raw nerves, a low simmering ache building in stomach when he heard her startled cry. Breaking into a run, he saw that one of the more ‘friendly’ bar patrons had followed her and deciding that she was merely playing hard to get, cornered her against a wall as she fought off his advances.

Grabbing the shorter, intoxicated man by the scruff of his neck, he dragged him away from her, tossing him against the wall, pinning him with a furious look and advanced on him, stopping only when the man held his hands up in surrender, fleeing the scene as fast as his wobbly legs could carry him. “Sorry man, didn’t know she was taken.”

Michael stared after him for a moment, the embers of his fury starting to smoke and burn as he clenched his hands to keep from going after him, leaving her unprotected once more. Swinging his fuming gaze back to the shaky brunette behind him, he stalked over to her and wrapped his hand around her upper arm firmly, dragging her down the street to her apartment where they could ‘discuss’ this in private.

“Let go of me,” she whispered furiously, fighting his grip and dragging her feet in an attempt to slow their progress and get away from him, but he was too far-gone this time for her foolish ploys. It ended tonight.

“No,” he spat, shoulders rippling with tension as he continued to herd her through the packed New Orleans streets, panting harshly, his anger on a very thin, fraying leash. Damn her insistent need to prove she was fine on her own; it was time she learned he was staying and she might as well get used to it.

“I could have handled it,” she sputtered, yanking her arm to dislodge his hand and flinched slightly when he increased his grip to keep her from slipping away, breathing heavily at their brisk pace. Planting her heels into the asphalt, she stumbled slightly when he gave an impatient jerk and hissed at him like a scalded cat.

“Oh yeah, you looked like you were doing a great job of that before I came along, Parker,” he snarked, voice dripping with seething sarcasm. Turning the corner to her street, his arm jerked slightly when she latched onto an iron fence they passed, halting their progress momentarily.

Turning back to her, he fixed her with his fiery bourbon gaze, anger radiating off him in palpable waves, sliding over her skin and her heart stuttered, her breath quickening in the wake of his fury. Leaning over her, he invaded her space, forcing her up against the fence she’d foolishly grabbed in an effort to stall the inevitable confrontation and her throat convulsed when hot breath washed over her face, meeting glowering dark honey eyes.

Squirming beneath that hot gaze, she cried out when he moved swiftly, swooping down and wrapping an arm around the back of her thighs, flung her over his shoulder, a little outraged grunt rushing over her lips when her stomach hit. He continued his brisk trek down her street, blatantly ignoring the amused stares of its inhabitants who thought they were witnessing a lover’s spat.

“Michael, put me down or I swear you’ll never…” she grunted, pummeling his back furiously, her threat fading when he purposely jolted her, her stomach hitting against his shoulder and pushing the air out of her lungs.

“Be quiet,” he growled, swatting her on the ass while smirking at the others, allowing them to believe what they wanted as long as they didn’t stop him. Tightening his hold on her, he took the steps to her apartment two at a time, unlocking the door with his powers and throwing it open, strode in, locking and sealing it before he set her on her feet, staring into her equally furious eyes, panting harshly, his hands on his hips.


“I’m waiting,” she whispered against his hovering lips, lifting deep brown eyes blackened with desire, her breath hitching when his cotton clad erection rubbed against her stomach. Placing a restraining hand on his chest, she slipped the other between them, lightly tugging on the elastic band of his boxers and released it with a light snap. “Fair is fair.”

He swallowed thickly, body jerking as her hand drifted lower, a finger tracing over his rigid flesh teasingly, the low aching burn in his stomach flaring into a full-fledged flame. Hissing, he grabbed her hand, anchoring it to his waist and reached under the water to trail hot fingers over her upper thigh, brushing his lips over her cheek softly. Drawing in the sweet scent of vanilla, he pressed his lips to her ear, lightly flicking his tongue over its shell, murmuring huskily.

“Are you sure about this, Parker?” he rasped, his warm breath washing over her neck, sending a shiver of desire rolling through her body, her blood simmering beneath tight, hot skin. He wrapped his hand around her upper thigh, hitching it over his hip and pressed deeper into her body, stroking the soft skin tauntingly.

Running his hands up over her thighs, he cupped her ass, lifting her up, her legs wrapping around his waist of their own accord, rocking against him softly and he cupped her back, his nails biting into her skin as wet skin slid against wet skin. Grunting, he sucked on her lobe, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh before scraping blunt teeth along the line of her jaw.

“This answer your question, Guerin?” she rasped, raking her nails over his back, scraping them over corded muscles, memorizing each dip and rise as they trailed over satin skin, reaching down to cup his ass and arched her back, moaning breathlessly as she pulled him in deeper, writhing against him subtly.

Panting, he slid his arms over her back, cupping her shoulders, pulling her back slightly so he could run the tip of his tongue over her neck, sucking on the thrumming pulse resting in the base of her throat, sighing with relief at finally being able to touch and taste and feel and savor the sweetness that had taunted him many a night. Breathing her in, his heart thrummed in anticipation, need rushing over his skin like a wildfire burning out of control and fed by her every sigh, murmur and choked cry.

“We do this, there’s no going back,” he promised, sliding his fingers over the juncture of her neck, teasing the soft flesh under his hands and pulled her back further, sinking his teeth into tender skin, adding to the white-hot heat burning in her womb, her body tightening as he laved the sting with a swipe of his tongue.

Sliding his lips over wet, pebbled skin, he trailed hot, teasing kisses and nips along the curve of her neck, smiling against her skin when her head lolled instinctively to allow him better access and knew that it was already too late – they could never go back from this moment, but he wanted to give her an out nonetheless.

“Michael,” Liz growled huskily, tangling her fingers into damp, tawny waves and pulled him from her neck, forcing him to meet her eyes, his breath stuttering at the inferno raging in those typically cool and controlled irises. Smirking at his dumbfounded expression, she pulled him down, issuing a soft command against his lips. “Shut up and fucking kiss me already.”
Last edited by Ashita on Thu Feb 18, 2010 2:22 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: Summer Heat - drabbles (UC, Mi/L, Adult) Ignite 2/27/10

Post by Ashita »

Julie - Thanks! And I'm glad that Michael's feelings come across even without him openly acknowledging it. Well at least not yet. :)

Yasmania - Thanks! That's one of my favorite lines of the drabble. :) And I'm glad to be one of your Fanfic addictions. Whims is amazing so I understand the addiction bit.

Whims - Glad you liked that line as well. Can't you just see Michael's pained look as he thought that? lol! Poor Michael. I'm also glad that it comes off as both humorous and sexy and doesn't cross the line into distasteful. It's always hard to tell if something is a bit too much as people have a different tolerance for smut. And yes, I'd love to tell Michael that. Over and over and over again. *grins*

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Ignite


“Such a mouth on you, Miss Parker,” he smirked, recovering from his momentary surprise and appraised her with predatory approval, her words sending a trill of desire curling through his body. Brushing his lips over hers lightly, he pulled just out of reach as she leaned in, running his hands over her slick, damp skin, to cup the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in to wet chocolate tresses. “You kiss people with this thing?”

She stopped, staring at him with smoky ebony irises, arms wrapped around his neck, and leaned in until their mouths were millimeters apart, staring at his parted lips and cocked an amused brow in answer to his comment, stroking taut shoulders, the muscles rippling with every minute brush of her fingers.

Shuddering under her light caresses, his eyes locked with his mischievous water sprite, their caramel depths darkening further and hissed with pleasure when she pressed her body closer to his, hot, wet skin sliding along equally hot, wet skin. Breath whispering and mingling shakily, they hung there, suspended, as close to one another as they could get without lips actually touching, noses pressed intimately to the other and time slowed to a crawl as they drank one another in.

“I would if someone would shut up long enough for me to do anything,” she drawled, breaking the spell, lips quirking sardonically as she cocked her head at him, her low, warm chuckle spilling over his senses like warm silk. “You forget what to do with a naked woman in your long celibate streak, Guerin?”

Smirking at her flash of spirit, he chuckled softly, pressing his forehead to hers and remembered a time when no one could breach her walls. He appreciated her backbone and the edgier, more confident girl she had grown into once she was out from under Max’s tight control and unrealistic views of all things romantic. It was intoxicating.

However, the way it came about had scared him, almost killing her and nearly destroyed him in the process.


“What the hell is your problem?” she spat, storming away from him, throwing her purse on the couch, ripping off her jacket and revealing the tiny scrap of burgundy cloth she called a dress, throwing that down as well in her fit of temper. Spinning around, she placed her hands on her hips and stared furiously at the man that had hauled her away from the club, where she had been dancing with a couple of guys.

Stumbling slightly, she weaved, catching herself on the wall as she realized that she was a little drunker than she first realized and held on as the world spun, breathing shallowly until it righted itself once more. More in control of her senses, she glared at Michael where he leaned against her front door, arms crossed over his chest, once again furious that he’d dragged her home, essentially killing her fun for the night.

“Well?” she demanded, eyes slit in outrage when he continued to stand there quietly, refusing to answer and staggered over to him, pressing her face into his.

Eyes narrowed, his blank façade belying the turbulent emotions bubbling in his gut, he nearly flinched at the alcohol fumes pouring off her breath, washing over his face and desperately quelled the urge to gag, still shaking over her evident self-destructive streak of the past two months. He had tried to talk some sense into her after her near run in with the over-friendly bar patron, but she outwitted him, cleverly barricading herself in her room and ignoring him the rest of the evening.

Finding her plastered to those guys tonight, reeked of danger and pricked his overprotective instincts, prompting him to barrel through the dancers until he was towering over the three of them. Realizing she was barely coherent from whatever they’d been feeding her all night, he glared at the men menacingly, daring them to challenge his actions so he had a reason to work off the rage surging through his veins.

Unfortunately, neither seemed so inclined, and he grabbed her, pulling her unsteadily through the crowd, stopping only to get her purse and jacket before storming out the door with her in tow. Deep down, he realized his actions stemmed from something deeper than just his need to protect her, but he didn’t want to delve too deeply into that touchy area until he was sure she had ended her reckless behavior.

“Cat got your tongue, Michael?” she pressed him, too inebriated to realize she was skating on thin ice with the man in front of her and that taunting him probably wasn’t the wisest move she could make.

Michael simmered quietly, waiting to see just how far she planned to push him tonight, aching to wrap his hands around her lovely, bare shoulders and shake some sense into her. Clenching his hands so he wouldn’t give into the temptation, he fixed her with a hard stare, barely holding onto the reins of his temper and smirked at her building frustration.

“Or are you all talk as usual, Guerin?” she taunted, irritated with his continued silence, jabbing him in the chest with her finger and gasped when the fire burning low in his eyes finally ignited and he flipped her, thrusting her against the door. Squirming against him, she raised molten chocolate eyes to his and hissed, struggling in his arms for release.

Holding her in place with his hips, he grabbed her wrists into each of his hands, pinning them to the door above her head and leaned in, his face inches from hers, whiskey orbs ablaze. Fiery gaze drifting over her upturned face slowly, breathing ragged, he pressed her firmly against the splintered wood, determined to have his say this time.

“I have plenty to say, Parker,” he growled in a low, tightly controlled voice as he stared at her in heated contemplation. Panting, he transferred her wrists into one hand, trailing the other down to grasp her jaw gently, forcing her to meet his intent, fulminating gaze. “But why waste my breath on someone who never listens?”

“Like you really care about me,” she spat, squirming under his furious gaze, stilling when he crowded her further, breath hitching and head swimming dizzily as his musky scent invaded her senses. She had been falling under his spell far too often lately and his proximity wasn’t making resisting those full, soft lips any easier. “I’m just another problem for the all mighty general to fix.”

“Oh, I care, Parker, I care far too much,” he whispered angrily, stung by her accusation, stepping away from her, letting her move into the room out of his reach and bowed his head, lungs crushing under the weight of his disappointment and fear. He had hoped by getting away from Max, she would really start living once more. He had seen flashes in the beginning, but she was still only a shell of a person. He really could kill his king for what he had done to this girl.

Placing his hand on the knob, he turned and looked over his shoulder, wondering if by sticking around he was doing her more harm than good. She stood in the middle of the room, preparing for a battle and seemed surprised when he had turned to go. Heart burning, he let his wall break momentarily, allowing all his pent up feelings to flow between them, making her audibly gasp and sway in bewilderment before he shored it once more and opened the door.

“You know what I find sad, Parker?” he asked rhetorically, face blank once more as he met her hazy, confused eyes, lips pressing in a thin line. “Despite leaving the group, you never escaped Max. He still has you under his thumb.”

Turning away, he walked out the door, needing to get away from her before he broke and said too much, before he gave into to feelings she wasn’t ready to accept, closing it quietly behind him, never imagining his words would ignite a fierce hope in the lovely brunette he left standing in the room.



“Maybe I should go find someone who knows what do with naked, willing women,” she teased softly, chocolate gaze sparkling with mischief at his scowl as she made to climb down and leave.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled in the back of his throat, tightening his grip around her slippery body and pressed her none to roughly against the rock, shaking a startled gasp past her lips. Whiskey orbs burning brightly, he pressed his lips to her ear, hot, harsh breath whispering over the tender skin and white-hot fire shot across her skin as he rasped in a low, steely voice. “Mine.”

Chest heaving, lungs burning with the need for air, she faced him, eyes clashing and brushed her lips over his jaw, leaning in to whisper in return.

“Then claim me,” she challenged, a victorious smirk sliding over her face when he gave a heartfelt groan, dropping his face to the curve of her neck as desire exploded in his body.

Needing no further encouragement, Michael threw out all his carefully laid plans and claimed her mouth, rough lips crushing hers, tongue teasing them apart. Deepening the kiss when she sighed and leaned in, he savored the feel and taste of her mouth – so hot, demanding and mind numbingly addictive. A craving that he wanted to indulge over and over again. A sin from which he didn’t want or need salvation; in whose depths he wanted to bathe indefinitely.

Sliding his tongue into her mouth, he swirled it along hers, mingling, flirting, coaxing, claiming her as he drank her down like a man dying of thirst, faced with the sweetest, coolest, deepest oasis. Water clung to their lips, mingling with the sweet-spicy taste of soft, velvet skin, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting her body into him, desperately trying to increase the pressure of his mouth, a low hum of need spreading through her body like tiny electric sparks.

Delving his hands into tangled, wet locks, he tipped her head back roughly, his mouth crashing against hers, forceful and demanding, thrusting his tongue into her mouth insistently, devouring the little breathy cries that bubbled over her lips. Moaning, he pressed her up against the rock roughly, forcing a yelp past her lips and he pulled away to see if she was all right only to have her growl, dragging him back to her mouth.

Heart thundering in his ears, body on fire, Michael met her passionate assault with equal fervor, mouths mating wantonly, grunting when her nails scraped against his scalp. Ripping his mouth from hers only when oxygen became absolutely necessary, he drew in several harsh, raspy breaths and flicked hooded eyes over her flushed cheeks, groaning at the sight of passion bruised lips and mussed hair.

“We should move this elsewhere,” he panted, trying to rein his body in and failing when she reached down, tugging at his boxers insistently, gasping when soft fingers slipped beneath the cloth to smooth against stiff skin. Fighting for air, he cursed softly when she wrapped her fingers around his erection, stroking up along the length tauntingly and she smirked at the pained bliss sliding over his face. “Liz…ah God…um…home, we should… ah fuck.”

“We won’t make it,” she predicted, panting against his mouth as she kissed him deeply, removing her hand and wrapping it into his hair, tugging gently. Breaking the kiss, she stared at him, glowing ebony pools ensnaring caramel, pulling him down into their depths as she whispered against his mouth, pointing to the bank. “Blanket. Now.”
Last edited by Ashita on Sun Feb 28, 2010 5:34 am, edited 5 times in total.
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Re: Summer Heat - drabbles (UC, Mi/L, Adult) 2/27

Post by Ashita »

Whims - I'm glad you're liking the little flashes of back story. I had originally planned only a hint of it here and there, but my muse is never satisfied going for straight smut. She likes showing how they got to that point. This is definitely post grad, about 3 years after - 1 year on the road and then another 2 away from the group. I tend to go for Michael and Liz pairing up after canon as I don't feel they'd be able to understand or appreciate each other in the beginning. BTW, again, not to worry on redemption. I'm only a third through the second chap and I want to have Chap 4 completed before posting. Maybe more.

Rach - I'm glad you like this drabble verse as well! I'm totally loving the reverse of Michael dealing with her stubbornness and him being more of the grown up. It's not often explored in Polar fics, but a fun dynamic nonetheless. Thanks for your comments!

Carrie - Thanks so much! Sorry to keep teasing you by ending it, especially as...yes, I tease again once more in this chapter. But I promise I'll stop teasing next installment. lol! And I read your comment to my dear hubby to be and he smirked at me and thoroughly enjoyed saying "I told you so." That man...he's so like Michael at times. lol! Drives me insane. And I did love the scene...geez...very hot.

Jan - Thanks! Well, if you're not in this section often, it's easy to miss. Haha! Yeah I loved Michael's alpha male moment there. Sometimes, it's the only way to deal with a stubborn woman...don't give her a choice. I loved his comment about Max as well. I wanted to explore a universe where Liz acts out after getting free of the abyss and Michael trying to "save" her. His comment really was a wake up call for her as you'll see.

AN: So this is the second to last of my prompts. I have one more planned drabble and then I'll leave it your hands whether I end it then or continue with this universe. If you want more, feel free to send me some drabble prompts. :)
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Burn

She squealed breathlessly when his arms tightened around her and crushed her body to his, dark brandy aflame at her softly spoken words. Taking a shaky breath, she writhed against him as strong, callused hands slid over her skin, tracing lines of fire over her back and cupped her, moving swiftly out of the water to the thick, blue blanket she’d spread beneath the trees.

Gasping when he brought them down gently, tumbling against the soft cloth, she tangled her legs with his and sighed, a sweet ache building in her chest when his weight settled on her, his lips claiming hers in a soft, slow kiss that belied the heat radiating between their bodies. It was heartbreakingly light and tender in comparison to his earlier kisses, tampering the blinding ignition into a sweet, slow burn.

Michael slowly traced her bottom lip, sucking it in to his mouth to nibble on it lightly, losing himself in the soft play of lips on his and deepened the kisses every time their mouths met, a slow progression of soft caresses that built in intensity but remained sweet and loving. There was time for blinding passion later, and often if he had any say in it, but right now, he wanted to make this an act of love.

Liz purred in the back of her throat, smiling against his mouth slightly as she marveled how they had gotten to this point. She had been so hurt, lost and damaged by Max’s neglect, she hadn’t realized what she had with Michael until he finally got fed up and walked away, leaving her out in the cold.


She hadn’t seen him for three weeks despite keeping a look out and expecting to see his face sitting at the table that she had thought of as his. Nothing. Not one word after he walked out her door, his heart so clearly etched in his eyes, leaving her gasping for breath at being the recipient of so much emotion.

She had expected to see him the following day, expected him to be waiting just beyond her door to follow her around and annoy her with his ever protective (and, although she’d never admit it aloud, endearing) presence. But he wasn’t. Disappointment crashed through her system and her heart fell as she realized he was a lot angrier than she thought. He had been so sweet and gentle, slowly helping her heal that she forgot he was still Michael and could only be pushed so far.

A burning ache suffused her heart, pumping cold, bitter loneliness and a deep icy panic through her blood. Pressing a hand over her heart to massage the ache that left her gasping for air, she clutched her arms around herself as a trickle of fear and…desolation slid along her spine, engulfing her in its deafening isolation.

He had left her. How could this be?

Oh, yeah, she told herself that this was what she wanted. She told him that she didn’t want him there and she was capable of taking care of herself; that she didn’t want or need his company. But she had been lying to both him and herself. She couldn’t imagine living here without him – how had he managed to burrow under her skin and crawl into her so carefully guarded heart?

She missed him – his smirks, his smart ass remarks, his hovering, his insistence that she take better care of herself, his all too rare smiles and even more infrequent laugh – all the little quirks that made him who he is today. God, she had been so blind for far too long.

How did this go so wrong?

It was her fault. She pulled a Max. She had gotten so used to Michael being there, putting up with her attitude and blatant disregard for his feelings, she’d come to expect him to always forgive her. It was the reason she left in the first place – Max’s expectation that she’d forgive his foibles and actions no matter the consequences.

Staring at herself in the mirror, a roll of disgust swept through her body as she realized she’d become the very person she left behind. The only difference in this situation is Michael broke and wisely walked away a lot sooner than she had. It was time to grow up and stop thinking the world owed her something for everything she’d been through.

She had to do something. She couldn’t lose him now.

Gathering her courage, she grabbed her wallet and keys and set off to his house on foot, praying he was still there, terrified that he wouldn’t be or worse, would send her packing. It was a short trek since they lived in the same neighborhood, but to her it felt like miles. Dread curling in her stomach, she stood in front of his building and drew a deep breath, steeling herself for the coming meeting.

Pushing through the gate, she stood in front of his door, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and hesitantly reached out her hand to knock before pulling back in last minute indecision, hand falling uselessly to her side. She stared at the door for another moment before shaking off her nerves and raising her hand to knock, gasping when he opened the door before she could do anything.

They stared at each other as her hand slid down to her side once more, her gaze fearful and nervous and him quiet and stoic, his dark gaze drinking her in, noting the dark circles and sadness that seemed to haunt her eyes once more. Swallowing thickly, he shifted leaning against the doorjamb and fought the urge to touch her, knowing that they’d just slide into the same games if he caved now. “Michael.”

“Liz,” he greeted softly, cocking his brow questioningly, fixing her with what he hoped was an impersonal yet curious glance and knew he had succeeded when her apprehension grew. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice tight and choked as she struggled for breath, absently playing with the rings on her fingers, swallowing hard when he continued to stare at her without a word. Taking a shuddering breath, her eyes flicked away nervously and she clasped her hands together tightly to combat the shaking. “I-I…I’ve done some things and certainly have s-said some things that I’m n-not proud of recently. I’ve taken unfair advantage of your…our friendship and…and…can you forgive me for being s-so stupid and thoughtless?”

She looked at him pleadingly, squirming when he kept skeptical caramel eyes pinned to her and blinked back tears when the silence stretched out between them. Inhaling sharply, she bit her lip to hold back the disappointment and nodded her head quietly, preparing to go when she stopped, squaring her shoulders and pressed forward.

“Michael, please,” she appealed, stepping forward so that they were toe-to-toe, a stance they had found themselves in numerous times over their acquaintance. “I can’t begin to make up for my behavior and you have every right to be angry with me, every right to send me away, but please don’t. I…I don’t know what I would do…how…what can I do to make this right?”

Michael watched her quietly, his hands crammed in his pockets as he weighed her words carefully, his face devoid of emotion. His heart told him to say yes, to pull her in his arms and forgive her. After all, he never intended to walk away for good; just long enough to shake some sense into her, forcing her to grow up and take responsibility for her actions.

But he also wasn’t going to put up with her games or being pushed away with one arm, only to be pulled back with the other hand any longer. His entire life had been one big yo-yo act and he refused to play into it further.

“Okay, but I have conditions,” he replied quietly, watching her steadily, his lips pursing thoughtfully as she squirmed under his unrelenting gaze. Taking a deep breath, he looked over her shoulder to gather his thoughts after she nodded tentatively. Flicking them back on her coolly, he crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “One, we move into together. No exceptions. I can’t protect you, if I have to track you down all over town.”

“But…” she trailed off, pursing her lips as he dropped his arms and started to walk back into his apartment, only turning when she huffed his name, muttering an aggrieved ‘fine’ under her breath. Cocking his brow at her less than enthusiastic response, he shoved his hands back into his pockets and rocked on his heels, determined the stubborn brunette was going to do what he wanted for once.

“Two, you need to stop this self-destructive bullshit,” he continued, his steely determination brooking no further argument from the woman before him. He didn’t bother to elaborate his meaning, didn’t need to; she knew exactly what he meant.

She glared at his tactless wording, but refrained from commenting because the last three weeks had shown her how out of control her life had truly spiraled and she didn’t want go there if it meant losing him. Nodding, she drew a shaky breath as cold fear melted from her heart, leaving her feeling a little lost but happy he wasn’t pushing her away as the younger Michael would have had she done this years ago.

“And finally,” he commanded gently, softening at the faint sheen of tears glassing her eyes and pulled her into his arms, quirking his lips in amusement. “Stay out of my kitchen, woman. I know we will all die one day, but we don’t need to speed that along with your flare for cooking. Deal?”

Snorting, she pulled out of his arms, a choked giggle bubbling out of her throat and she punched him on the chest lightly as she nodded, walking back a few steps. Pulling her back, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pressed his lips to her temple, reveling in her soft scent. She was still a ways from accepting him fully, but this was a step forward.



“God…Liz, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered against her mouth, shaking as he moved against her ever so slightly, a subtle rocking that increased the low burning in his blood, his heart nearly bursting from the strain of holding himself back and the sweet feel of holding her as he’s always wanted. Capturing her lips once more, he deftly explored her mouth, groaning as her tongue tangled with his and threaded his fingers with hers, pressing them into the ground on either side of her head. “You have no idea...”

She moaned breathlessly as his weight pressed her further into the blanket and arched up into his body in response to his subtle rocking, wrapping her thighs against his hips and squeezing as their bodies moved together, brushing, quivering with each minute roll of his hips. Pulling her lips free from his, she sighed, tipping her head back and hummed with pleasure as his lips slid down her jaw, over her neck to settle on the thrumming pulse at the base of her neck.

“Mmmm, you taste, feel incredible,” he murmured against her neck, sucking on the soft skin fluttering at its base and released her hands, one moving to her stomach and tracing soft circles along her skin, the other grasping her knee, pulling her tightly against him. Sliding his hand up her thigh, he cupped one cheek, pressing her deeper into his body and a pained grunt tumbled over his lips as she recommenced her tortuously slow, sensual movements, sending his head spinning and electricity humming along his nerves.

“Michael…need you,” she whimpered, sliding her hands over his back and under his boxers, pushing them over his hips, hissing when he lifted only long enough so she could slide them down his thighs. Hooking her feet onto the edges, she shoved them down the rest of the way, gasping when his body settled back into hers and hot, stiff flesh pressed against her core. “God…you feel so good.”

Desire whipped through his body, white-hot and consuming, never expecting those words to pass over her lips and he pulled away, kicking off his boxers carelessly, yanking her in his arms, groaning as her skin slid against his. Sliding back between her legs, he grinned with pure male satisfaction when she gasped at the friction against her core and rubbed the slick, wet folds again, grinding against her once more.

“Sure you can handle this, Parker?” he demanded silkily, trailing his lips over her neck, sliding them over her collarbone, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh spread before him. Laving the sting away with a swipe of his tongue, he sucked her skin in greedily, gasping as a rush of sweet heat flooded through his body and his heart picked up in tempo when she dragged him back to her mouth for a searing kiss.

“I…ah God…can take anything you dish out, Guerin,” she challenged breathlessly, squirming against his body impatiently, raking her nails over his back and grinned with delight when he hissed, jerking against her. Cupping his ass, she pushed him against her core, shimmying slightly, breathing hitching as the friction shot liquid fire curling through her veins. “So…so…get on with it.”
Last edited by Ashita on Sat Mar 06, 2010 6:12 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Summer Heat - drabbles (UC, Mi/L, Adult) 3/29

Post by Ashita »

Whims - Glad you liked that twist. :) Usually Michael is the one that messes up in most stories, so it was fun to reverse the roles as she can be just as hard-headed and stubborn as he is. And I'm glad you like the little flashes of how they got to this point. And I loved his last condition. Cracked me up as I was writing it.

Barbara - Thanks! Glad you like the new series!

Jan - *grins* I'm always happy to hear that. Sometimes it's hard to judge. And yes, I'm a terrible tease like that. haha! But you should be used to that after all. BTW, Chap 13 of Hunted is close to completion. :)

Julie - Thanks! Glad you like my Michael. I love this version of him too and he always takes care of his girl even when she doesn't want him to. :)

AN: So I wasn't planning to post this until after I completed the chapter for Hunted, but then I noticed that it was Jan's birthday and since i don't have that chapter ready yet, I figured I'd at least give her this since she has been one of my unfailing supporters. So this chapter is dedicated to her. Happy B-day Jan!

AN2: This is my last planned prompt, so the question remains....are you happy to end it there or do you want more? Let me know. :) Also, the setting of this story (New Orleans) is a nod to one of my favorite Polar stories of all time, Finding Ulysses by Peachykin. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend doing so as it's beautifully written and an overall amazing story. It is the story that converted me from a reluctant Dreamer to a passionate Polarist.
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Combust


Michael stared down at her, laughing under his breath momentarily before his face softened and he stroked her cheek reverently, unable to believe his luck. God, the way she moved him without even trying, he’d never felt anything like it before. Leaning down, he brushed his lips over hers, resuming his soft exploration of her mouth, dipping his hand between them to run his fingers over her breast lightly and smiled when she arched into his hand, swallowing down her soft gasp.

He shuddered slightly when her hands trailed over his back lovingly, gently tracing sinew and pulled back from her mouth, arching into her touch. His eyes closed as an overwhelming sweet heat spread through his limbs – euphoria, bliss and love like he had never experienced before swimming through his veins, threatening to drag him down into its warm depths.

Holding his breath, lungs burning, he stood on the precipice, staring down into the golden brown pools that held his every hope and dream and without a thought, plunged with a smile on his face. He never wanted to leave, never wanted this moment to end.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured leaning against one elbow, tracing her features lightly before combing his fingers through the shining, chocolate tresses pillowed around her face. Tangling his fingers in them, he cradled her head and brought her lips to his once more for a soft, sweet kiss, pouring all of his emotions into it, telling her how he felt without words. Releasing her lips, he pressed his forehead to hers, staring at her with wonder, sliding his eyes shut and pressing his cheek into her palm as she cupped it, rubbing against the soft, smooth skin. “God…what you do to me.”

“Me too,” she whispered breathlessly, throat constricting at the emotions playing in his eyes, her own filming with tears of joy and responded in kind, showing him without words just how deeply he touched her as well, still afraid to say the words. She had never intended to give her heart away to him, but she couldn’t think of anyone who deserved it more.

Cupping the back of his neck, she pulled him down, lips meshing perfectly and opened her mouth, inviting his invasion with a soft moan of desire, their tongues tangling and danced wantonly. Her blood sang, bubbling hotly under his soft caresses and teasing kisses, making her writhe with a deep burning need and hummed in pleasure when he met her kiss for kiss, fire for fire.

Pulling back, Michael braced his hands on either side of her, sherry gaze burning a slow path over her and his heart pounded as he finally got an unhampered view of the golden skin she’d flaunted on more than one occasion over the past year. Settling his weight on her once more, he moved against her experimentally, thrusting against her juncture teasingly, reveling in her gasp and the slow erotic tease as his eyes slid shut in bliss.

Watching her parade around in practically nothing had been torture, but a necessary evil. No matter how much he wanted to act on his feelings the day she sought him out and apologized, he knew she had been in no shape to pursue another relationship. She needed to remember or find out whom Liz was before they explored the attraction that had (unexpectedly) sprung up between them after leaving Roswell and being forced into close quarters.

But damn, did she ever make it hell on him with her tiny shorts and even tinier tops, strutting around in nothing but a towel after her shower and those sheer little nightgowns that barely covered her ass if he was lucky. Conniving little vixen. God, how he loved her and wouldn’t change a thing despite living in the perpetual state of arousal for months.

And he had to admit, he enjoyed her little games. What normal, red-blooded male (alien or human or both in his case) wouldn’t enjoy a gorgeous scantily clad woman draped over them?

It came to a head last week when he arrived home from work, nearly dead on his feet and found her lying on the couch without a stitch on. Or close the hell enough. Sleep had been the last thing on his mind after that visual.


The porch light glowed softly overhead as Michael slid his key into the lock, resting his head against the door wearily and sighed, happy to finally be home after a busy night tending bar. He always hated Saturday nights at Molly’s because the Quarter was always packed with locals as well as vacationers looking to drink into the wee hours of the morning. Thank God, his shift ended at 2 a.m. rather than 6 a.m. when the bar closed. He had no idea how the others managed it.

But at least this job gave him the ability to watch over Liz when she worked and he was able to walk home with her after their shift. Located on Toulouse, right off Bourbon Street, it was in the height of tourist traffic and he didn’t like letting her walk home alone with the streets packed with drunks looking for a sweet face to take home. Damned if he was going to let anyone touch her.

Sighing wearily, he leaned against the door for a moment before twisting the knob to walk into the apartment, knowing she was likely curled up on the couch, either reading or dozing until he got home. She always waited for him. It was nice to come home and have someone waiting to find out how your night went and rub your shoulders while you bitched about the latest drunk that got out of hand.

Rubbing his eyes wearily, he pushed the door open and hoped she wouldn’t be too upset if he went straight to bed tonight rather than spending an hour or so talking. He was dead on his feet and wanted nothing more than a hot shower and twelve hours of sleep. Tossing his keys into the basket by the door, he hung up his jacket and staggered into the living room, intent on saying good night and sending her off to bed.

Lifting his head, he looked toward the couch and froze, his breath caught in his throat and his heart speeding up as he stared at the brunette in disbelief. Swallowing hard, his eyes skimmed over yards of soft golden skin barely covered by tiny, blush pink bikinis and a matching cropped tank top that left much of her smooth, toned stomach bared. Jesus, the woman was trying to kill him.

Dark lashes fanned over flushed cheeks, her lips soft and slightly parted in her sleep and her head rested on one arm, while the other draped across her waist, ebony strands splayed across the ivory couch. Biting back a moan, he leaned against the doorjamb heavily as his knees turned to jelly and watched the soft, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, tamping down the desire to stride over and sink down into her body.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought for control over his rapidly hardening body and all thought of a hot shower and sleep went sailing out the door as his traitorous mind played out every fantasy he’d had over the past year with her in the starring role. Opening his eyes, he pushed off the jamb and walked over to the couch, once tired eyes traveling over her heatedly. Damn, he wasn’t getting any sleep tonight with that visual emblazoned in his head.

Bending over, he scooped her into his arms gently and stood, going stock still as she stirred in his arms and wrapped her arm over his shoulder, pressing her face into his neck. He inhaled sharply when her lips nuzzled his neck, pressing a light, warm kiss against his rapidly thrumming pulse and she sighed softly. “Michael.”

Crushing her to his chest gently, he hissed and held his breath, waiting to see if she’d wake up. Letting it flow out in a rush when she remained asleep, he walked toward her room and slipped into the darkened chamber carefully. Bracing his foot on the bed frame, he propped her against his knee as he leaned over and pushed her sheet back before sliding her into her bed carefully, tucking the sheet around her waist.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, he stared into her face, smoothing back several strands of hair that had fallen over her face. Brushing her cheek softly, he breathed in the soft scent of vanilla and rain into his starving lungs and heart in his throat, bent over to brush his lips over her brow, his fists clenching painfully with barely held restraint.

Shooting off the bed, he stalked over to her door and exited the room, closing the door quietly but firmly behind him before he gave into the temptation singing through his veins. Sagging against the door, he dropped his head in his hands and tried to draw air into his lungs and forget the feel of her skin under his fingers. Something had to be done. If they didn’t end this dance soon he was going to combust.



Dropping his mouth back to hers, his hand trailed over her chest, closing over her breast and he circled her skin with the rough pad of his thumb, bringing it to a point. Cupping the soft skin fully, he kneaded the flesh gently as he pulled away from her mouth and painted a light trail along her jaw, over her neck, pausing at the juncture of her neck to lavish the thrumming pulse biting kisses, fighting the urge to just slide into her without further foreplay.

Sliding his tongue over the curve of her breast, he nibbled at the flesh softly before sucking her nipple into his mouth, biting on the rigid flesh lightly, then soothed the sting with a swipe of his tongue. God the taste and feel of her was incredible, a dream come true. Sliding over to its twin, he lavished her other breast with soft nips, smiling against her skin when she gave a strangled cry.

“Michael,” she murmured, digging her fingers into his hair and pulling him up to her, meeting his simmering brandy gaze with molten chocolate. Sliding her hands down over his back, she cupped his ass and pulled him down on top of her, watching him with all the love and desire she had a hard time expressing after Max’s endless games. “Enough. If you don’t make love to me now, I’m going to hurt you.”

“Promise?” he asked cheekily, grinning at her frustrated moue and sank down, stroking her skin softly. Apparently he wasn’t the only one having a hard time holding back. But who could blame him; the past year had been one long foreplay session.

“Michael,” she returned warningly, cocking her brow and was about to utter some threat about rolling over and taking care of herself if he didn’t stop his teasing when he rocked against her forcefully, cutting off her words and forcing a low, breathless moan bubbling over her lips. Arching up into his body, she ground against his shaft, seeking friction and pressure and grunted when desire rippled over her body in waves.

“Like that, Parker?” he panted, settling between her thighs, his hardened flesh teasing her hot, wet skin as he rubbed back and forth a few times. Biting the inside of his cheek, he slid into her slowly, gasping as her muscles tightened around him instinctively. Grunting with pleasure, he held still as her body adjusted to his possession before he slid in a little deeper. God, she was so unbelievably hot and tight. Pushing forward another inch, he stopped as a thought crossed his mind. “Fuck.”

“W-what?” she asked shakily, her body quaking as he slowly filled her and she gasped as she felt him twitch slightly, expanding even further into her depths. Dear God, how was it possible to feel this much pleasure? Heat spiked in her loins, making her legs tremble and she dug her nails into his lower back pushing at him, impatient to complete this dance, but he stubbornly resisted and pulled back, resting his head against her stomach, eyes clenched in pain. “What’s wrong?”

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, stopping what he was doing to clench his fists into the blanket beside her head and expelled a shaky breath, trying to rein in his desire. Taking several deep breaths, he opened his eyes and stared into her misty, confused expression, giving a heartfelt groan. “No protection.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, understanding dawning. Even now he was thinking of her safety. Brushing his hair out of his eyes, she pulled him back down, brushing her lips over his softly. Arching against him, she sighed as their bodies slid together, creating a delicious friction that spilled warmth over her skin. Tangling her fingers in his soft strands, she delicately traced the part of his mouth, deepening the kiss when his lips parted instinctively and began a gentle exploration of his mouth, tenderly stroking his back as she rocked against him slightly.

“We c-can’t,” he stuttered as he broke the sweet kiss, voice shaking and his eyes slid shut in absolute bliss as fire rippled over his nerves in waves at her little movements. God, she was trying to kill him. Shaking his head to clear the haze, he kissed her brow softly and then slid his lips over her cheek, whispering against her ear. “It’s not that I don’t want to – oh, god, do I want to – but we’re not ready for….”

“Michael, I’m on the pill and have been for over a year,” she reassured gently, interrupting him before he could finish the thought they both knew would happen at some point, but not then. While they’d known each other for years, their relationship was just budding and they weren’t ready for a family. “Besides, it’s…um…the wrong timing for that to happen.”

“Y-you sure?” he asked, grunting when she moved against him once more and sighed in relief when she nodded her head, mumbling as his lips latched onto the lobe of her ear. “Thank God one of us was thinking.”

“Yeah, well that’s me,” she quipped lightly, cupping his jaw and looking up at him, smiling and brought there lips together, purring as his mouth left hers and traced it’s way down her chest, latching onto the soft flesh and rolled his tongue over her peaked skin before sucking it into his mouth. She arched into his touch, breath caught in her throat as she felt him position himself once more and slid inside her with one fluid thrust, tearing through the thin membrane that made her his fully.

Michael’s head shot up, startled whiskey eyes meeting hers questioningly, his body trembling as the implication of what happened rushed over him. She had been untouched, a virgin. He opened his mouth to ask her about it, but his mind blanked and he closed his mouth, continuing to stare at her in awe. He groaned softly when she smiled at him shakily, shrugging one shoulder as a tear leaked out over her cheek.

Brushing the tear away with his thumb, he sank against her and pressed his lips to her fervently, teasing her lips apart and deepened the kiss, rebuilding the heat between them and rocked against her softly, testing her responsiveness. She moaned softly, squeezing his hips and met his thrust with a soft movement of her own, smiling when he gasped and sunk into her deeper, his back bowing slightly. Meeting his eyes, she smirked and moved against him once more, breath catching as his eyes darkened and burned with sherry-tinted fire.

Michael pulled back carefully, aware she might still be a little sore and slid back in slowly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from plunging on, the metallic copper taste of his blood coating his tongue as he tore through the soft flesh. Setting a slow, measured pace, he listened and watched her body for cues to what she wanted, speeding up a little each time she clutched at him at pulled him in deeper.

Liz gasped, her breath harsh ad ragged as she met him thrust for thrust, nails digging into his ass as she pulled him in deeper with every movement, pressing her hips up into his body as close as she could possibly get. Pressing her face into his throat, she cried out softly, babbling his name over and over like a small prayer as her body quivered and tightened with each rock of his hips, sending her senses into a tailspin.

“God, Michael,” she whimpered, humming low in the back of her throat as the heat continued to build in her core, sending ripples of bliss spiking through her blood, the power of her emotions finally ripping the words from her heart. “Love you.”

“Ah…God, Liz,” he mumbled, his movements taking on a frenzied pace as he felt her body constrict around him and joy burst through his heart at her whispered confession. Crushing her to him, his thrusts came fast, shallow and jerky as his muscles tightened and he laced his fingers with hers, pressing them into the blanket, driving into her erratically. Sliding his hand between them, he pressed on the small bundle of nerves, rubbing it with teasing circles, unable to hold on much longer. “Love you.”

She arched into him one last time, crying out when her body began to spasm, convulsing and shattering around him, calling out his name as her pleasure crashed over her in waves. Clutching his body to hers tightly, she sobbed as she rode out the heat and electricity with him.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he rasped fiercely, crushing her to him possessively, punctuating each word with a deep, penetrating thrust of his hips and captured her lips, grunting her name as he surged one final time as he his body convulsed, giving into his body’s insistent demand for release. Back bowed, he hung, suspended for several seconds as shockwaves of pleasure coursed through his blood before collapsing against her panting.

Drawing a collective breath, hearts pounding, they pressed their heads together, trading soft kisses and light caresses as they came down from their high. Resting his head against hers, he stared at her in wonder, unable to believe that she was finally his. Cupping her cheek, he asked the question that he couldn’t voice earlier. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It didn’t seem that important,” she shrugged, smiling at him softly, turning her head to press a kiss into his palm. Turning back to him, she brushed his matted hair back from his eyes, tracing his features softly. “I didn’t want you to hold back. I love your fire and passion and if you knew, you would have tempered yourself. I never want you to be anything other than what you are.”

“God, Liz, you shatter me,” he whispered, pressing his lips to hers in a short, hard, passionate kiss, shaking at her confession. “You move me, you make me and you break me all at the same time. What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me?” she murmured, nudging his nose with hers softly, pressing soft, sweet kisses over his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair. Watching him quietly, she purred when he ran his fingers through her hair and smiled.

“I do,” he confessed, tracing his fingers along her arm, down over her waist to the swell of her hips, cupping her backside and pressing against her, breath hitching as slick, hot skin slid together. Bending down, he captured her lips in another sweet, slow kiss, savoring the taste of her mouth. Pulling back, he stared at her awestruck. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Michael,” she whispered sweetly, her eyes lighting up with happiness when he grinned and crushed her to him once more, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, the both of them overwhelmed by the depth of their feelings as he returned the sentiment.

"I love you too.”
Last edited by Ashita on Mon Mar 29, 2010 4:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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