Summer Heat (UC, Mi/L, Adult) 3/29 Complete
Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2010 9:30 pm
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.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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.
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.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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.