Friendly Skies

Friendly Skies


Rating: NC-17
Do include: Rory and Tristan doing it in an airplane... where in the airplane is your choice! (Ex. bathroom, stewardess lounge, etc.)
Don't include: A mention of Rory's past boyfriends, rape, or them getting caught "in the act."



London’s Heathrow Airport was packed with people. It seemed that the whole of England was there, trying to get somewhere else. Bustling through the crowd using mainly her elbows and her laptop bag, a brunette in a business suit parts through the crowd to get in line at the coffee shop.

"Thank God for small wonders," she muttered to herself as the line actually began moving in a relatively quick fashion. She took out a book from her carry on and began to flip through the pages as she waited, taking small steps forward every so often. At long last, it was her turn to order, meaning she might have a chance of feeling somewhat alert before she got to the security gate. She told the guy behind the counter what she wanted and stepped off to the side to await her order and again immersed herself in her book. Just a moment later, her order was called out and she reached out her hand to retrieve her order.

"Ah, I think that’s mine."

A voice made her snap out of her book, and look up to the person that was protesting her taking the coffee in front of her. A man stood in front of her, looking bemused and slightly familiar.

"But that’s what I ordered."

"Me too. I’m sure yours will be along shortly."

She nodded and gave a small smile as he took the cup and walked over to the condiments table. He was right, a replica of the last drink appeared within moments. She wandered over to the condiment table, but the guy that had stuck a chord of remembrance in her brain had already gone. She tried to think of herself where she had known him from, but nothing came to her. She had been so many places in her life; Yale, NYU for graduate school, almost every country in the world on assignment; she could know him from anywhere. Sighing, she turned to head towards the even longer line for security so she could get to her gate. Luckily she had actually been running early today, and she had hours before her flight to New York left.

She got through security and was sitting at her gate when her phone rang. She put down the book which she was now over half done with, and rifled through her bag to find the small cell phone. She knew it could be only one person.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" came the whining voice on the other end.

"I’m at Heathrow Airport."

"Ugh, you’re still in London?"

"Well, I do have to wait for my plane to actually take off before I can leave, so yes, I am."

"I’m bored."

"I can’t help that."

"Come back and play with me!"

"Mom, seriously, you have a successful business, a husband and a four year old."

"What’s your point?"

"There is no reason for you to be bored."

"Luke has the kid with him, and it’s my day off. I want to go shopping."

"So, call Grandma."

"That’s not funny."

"Well, I won’t be home til tomorrow, as planned."

"Maybe if we concentrate really hard, we can materialize you here instantly."

"Mom."

"Shush, I’m concentrating."

A moment went past, and Rory looked around to see how many people were staring at her. Luckily, the people around her had headphones in or were busy talking themselves.

"You weren’t concentrating."

"You’re right. Sue me."

"Well, how was your trip?"

"I didn’t even make it out of the hotel, I was booked with meetings and interviews."

"Aw, too bad. You need a real vacation."

"Well, I get one soon. But I’m not traveling, I’m so tired of jet lag."

"You’re really just going to sit around at home, doing nothing?"

"Not nothing. I’m going to read books, watch movies and take my mother to the home with the nice men in white coats."

"Hey!"

"Don’t worry, they’ll give you a white coat too. With lots of fashionable buckles on it," Rory teased.

"You’re shopping with me, end of story."

"Yes, drill sergeant!"

"Funny."

"The weirdest thing did happen just now, though."

"Ooh, weird things, my favorite kind of things!"

"Well, I was in line to get coffee," Rory started.

"Of course," Lorelai interjected.

Ignoring her mother, she went on. "So, I went to grab my order, and this guy in front of me had ordered the same thing. I looked at him, and he looked so familiar, but I can’t quite place him. It’s going to drive me crazy the whole way home."

"It’s an eight hour flight, that’s lots of crazy."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, you meet a lot of people. I wouldn’t worry about it, it’s not like he’s going to follow you around screaming, ‘why don’t you remember me? Rory! Rory!’"

"Okay, you’re annoying now," she informed her mother who was still ranting on the other end of the phone.

"Sorry. I should get going. I have to meet Luke at the diner and pick up that brother of yours."

"Say hi for me. Are you bringing him to pick me up tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Call me if your flight from New York gets delayed or anything."

"I will. Bye, Mom."

"Bye, sweetie."

Rory chuckled at her mother, and put her phone back in her bag. She looked at her book, but decided to give her eyes a rest. If she kept this up, she’d need to buy a new book before she even got on her flight. She was hoping to sleep most of the flight, as she tended to have less jet lag that way the next day. Especially on these international flights. She had been working for a major news network, based out of New York for the last three years. She hadn’t made on air interviewing yet, but she was working her way towards that. Her life was perfect; exactly how she had thought it would turn out. She kept a small apartment up in Stars Hollow, to go and get away from it all when she wasn’t busy at work. She mainly lived in her apartment in New York, though. She looked around at her fellow passengers, scanning the crowd with interest. One of her favorite past times was people watching. It was more fun with someone else to make up stories about the people, but alone was entertaining too. She was making up a story in her head about this couple sitting a couple of rows ahead of her in the rows of chairs. The woman was reading a magazine and the man was reading a book. The woman kept interrupting the man and pointing to the magazine. He would sigh, mark his page and feign interest in what the woman was showing him. She smiled, deciding he was the kind of guy that opened car doors, and gave up his jacket when the night air got too chilly. She was the kind of woman that would say something a million times, but then forget it when it counted. But they loved each other, and balanced each other out. She smiled and moved on to the next person.

She was just deciding whether the businessman four rows up was the kind to be faithful to his wife on his trips when someone sat down next to her, brushing his shoulder against hers. She shifted a bit, so as to give her fellow passenger some space, but he moved again towards her.

"So, you don’t remember me, do you?"

There was that voice again. Familiar, but unplaced. She knew he was the same man that had taken the coffee from out in front of her earlier, not even an hour ago. She finally turned to look at him full on in the face. He was smiling, had obviously finished his coffee, and his eyes seemed to be dancing. Blue eyes, familiar eyes.

"How can I be sure you know me, you aren’t some freakish stalker?" she asked, trying her best to sound haughty.

"I don’t imagine you have a lot of stalkers."

"And why is that?" she asked, now amused and curious to see what his response would be. To see exactly how well this recognizable stranger knew her.

"Well, I’d imagine they’d get bored of you, always with your nose in a book."

"That just shows you’ve been watching me in the airport."

"I just got out of security. Evidently I look like I would conceal weapons in my person," he added bitterly.

"Oh, no!" her hand flew to her mouth in disgust.

"Well, they are thorough here in London," he assured her.

"So, mystery man, tell me something about yourself."

"What would you like to know?" he smiled, liking the mystery man comment.

"Well, you obviously know me, so tell me what brings you to London this summer day."

"Business."

"So, you aren’t from London?"

"Nope. I’m an American."

"Well, that narrows it down," came her sarcastic reply.

"My, my, have there been so many men in your life?"

"I would have remembered if I had dated you," she said giving him a strange look.

"So, you aren’t big on the one-night stands, huh?"

"I don’t have time to be careless," she informed him.

"I should have known so much."

She looked at this man, whose smirk was starting to grate at her. It became more and more familiar, like his name was on the tip of her tongue. She hated that feeling.

"Give me a real hint, since you seem to remember me so well."

"We attended a school together."

"Which school?"

"Not so fast. I gave you the requested one hint."

"Please tell me you aren’t headed to New York on my flight," she said suddenly.

"Well, I’m leaving out of gate C-27, so unless you’re in the wrong place, I would assume we’re on the same flight."

"Damn."

"What’s the matter, don’t like the idea of being locked in a tiny space with me?"

The look on his face, the glint in his eyes as he looked at her, the feeling he was causing in her abdomen, suddenly all came together.

"Tristan," the name flowed out of her mouth like honey.

"Mary," he retorted.

"Hardly."

"Really?"

"Tristan, I’m 26."

"As am I."

She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.

"What?"

"Nothing, I’m just surprised to see you’re not in prison or something."

"Ouch."

"Well, the last time I saw you, you were in a bit of trouble with the law."

"I’ve been reformed."

"How was military school?"

"Lovely. I thought of sending you postcards, but I didn’t know your address."

"So, what happened to you after that?"

"Princeton, then Columbia for grad school. Now I work for my father’s company, in the international law division."

"Impressive."

"Yourself?"

"My dad doesn’t have a company," she teased.

"I meant, how was Harvard?"

"Don’t know. I went to Yale. Then NYU. Now I am working my way towards foreign correspondent for CNN, I’m based out of their New York offices."

"Nice."

Rory nodded and looked down at the forgotten book in her hands. He stayed still next to her. She couldn’t believe Tristan Dugrey was sitting next to her. Never in her life did she think she’d ever have seen him again.

At long last, a voice came over the intercom and announced that they were pre-boarding for the flight to New York from gate C-27. Rory listened as they announced that first class passengers could now board the craft. She grabbed her laptop bag and her small carry on and stood up, noticing Tristan also rose.

"First class?"

"Always," he assured her. She rolled her eyes and stepped ahead of him. He followed her to the ticket taker and waited in line. There were no words between them as they walked the hallway to the plane and he watched as she took her seat. He was seated directly in front of her, and he smiled. This was going to be an interesting eight hours.

She had been trying to concentrate on anything else since she had seen him take the seat in front of her while they were pre-boarding. She got out her Discman and popped in a CD she had mixed. Her book was on top in her bag, so she busied herself with as many things as she could manage to pretend to focus on. She would glance up every so often, noting how she could see his muscled and tanned forearm through the small space between the seats. He had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves to his white button up dress shirt. Admonishing herself, she pried her eyes off of his arm and back to her book.

This back and forth of her trying not to pay attention to him went on for a while, until the batteries on her Discman died. Groaning, she rifled through her bags to find she had in deed forgotten to pack more batteries. She closed her book, and unfastened her seatbelt. Leaning over the seats a little, she tapped him on the shoulder. Turning a bit in his seat, he smiled at her. Her stomach turning over, she attempted to ignore that and concentrate at the task at hand.

"You wouldn’t by chance have any AA batteries, would you?" she inquired.

"That depends," he offered.

"On what?" she asked, confused.

"On what you need these batteries for," he started, then leaned in to whisper in her ear so only she could hear him, "and if I can watch."

Blushing, she tried to collect herself before answering him. He really hadn’t changed.

"My Discman died, you sick pervert."

"Sure it did."

They were staring at each other, neither backing down. He looked more than amused and she looked like she would like to wipe the very satisfied grin off of his face with something sharp and painful.

The flight attendant came by, to see if they would like drinks, and noticed them conversing.

"You know, we have a pretty empty flight today, if you two would like to sit together, it’s not a problem."

"That would be great," Tristan thanked her before Rory could say anything. She just stood there, gaping at him.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Don’t you want something to drink? It’s a long flight, you know," he continued to enrage her.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she didn’t move. The flight attendant cleared her throat, and Rory came back to her senses.

"Miss, did you want to change seats or not?"

"Come on, Rory, I won’t bite. I’ll behave."

Deciding that perhaps catching up with Tristan wouldn’t hurt, she started to gather her things. And maybe a little bit of the butterflies that she still had fluttering in her abdomen had a teensy bit to do with her decision. She grabbed her bag and moved around the guy next to her to sit next to Tristan. He smiled, as she asked the flight attendant for some coffee.

"More coffee?"

"Well, I’ve only had three cups today. Besides, I was going to sleep, but seeing as I’m sitting with you, I think that staying awake would be advisable."

"Don’t want to miss a second, huh?"
"More like I’m sure I’d be groped in my sleep."

"God, when was I ever that much of a letch?"

"Sorry. You didn’t deserve that."

They sat in silence for a moment, and the flight attendant brought their drinks. She took a sip of her coffee and made a face. He took a sip of his water, and looked to her, almost spitting his water out due to laughing at her.

"Coffee not drinkable?"

"All coffee is drinkable. This is just," she tried another sip and made the same face, "the worst coffee I’ve ever had!" she laughed.

He put his water on her tray table, and she smiled in thanks as she took a long swig.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"So, tell me about yourself."

"What would you like to know?"

"Do you like your job?"

"It’s okay. Even mildly interesting every now and then."

"Married?"

He held up his left hand, which she saw to be without a ring.

"How do I know you don’t just take it off to pick up girls while you’re on business?"

"No woman has roped me down yet."

"So, no kids?" she teased.

"And you think I’m the mean one," he shook his head. "What about you?"

"Kids? God, no."

"Married?"

She shook her head.

"Seeing anyone at all?"

"No time, really. I’m constantly either at the office, back home in Stars Hollow or traveling."

"What ever happened to that annoying boyfriend of yours?"

Rory thought back to the last time she saw Tristan and Dean together, how much they had hated each other.

"He’s in Chicago, last I heard. After the divorce."

"So, you were married?" Tristan assumed.

"No, not to me. He was married to some girl from Stars Hollow that he dated after me, for a couple of years. But it didn’t work out and he moved back to Chicago."

"Ah. I see."

"You two never did like each other much."

"That is true."

"Why was that?"

"I’m willing to bet he didn’t like me because he knew you were wildly obsessed with me," Tristan offered.

Rory picked up his water and took another drink. "Just for that, you don’t get your water back."

"Did I strike a nerve of truth?"

"I didn’t have a thing for you in high school," she informed him.

"Right."

"Why, did you have a thing for me?" she asked, liking the fact that he now looked sort of uncomfortable. But he did recover quickly.

"If I tell you I did, would you meet me in the bathroom?"

"Tell me you aren’t going to utter the tired phrase ‘Wanna join the Mile-High Club’?" she rolled her eyes.

"I would never say something so cliché."

"Right, I forget. Tristan Dugrey, master of all innovation when it comes to getting girls in the sack."

"Well, if you don’t want to join me, at least get up so I can get past you to go alone."

She obliged him, standing up to let him brush past her. Mind you, he didn’t do it quickly. He took his time, moving against her so as to press the maximum surface area of himself against the most of her that he could. By the time he reached the aisle, she needed to sit down. She was a bit flushed and he didn’t turn back, but he didn’t need to see the effects of his actions. He knew she had to be checking him out as he went forward to the lavatory after that.

‘Oh, my God, I can’t let him get to me like this,’ she thought to herself, trying to steady her breathing. By the time he returned, she jumped up and moved way out into the aisle so he could get in easier. Without contact. He smirked again, taking his seat and refastened his seat belt. She gingerly sat back down and refastened her lap belt as well. Yawning, she put her hand over her mouth.

"Tired?"

"Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep last night, I was up trying to start putting my next assignment together."

"Well, if you’d like to sleep, I’ll be sure to ward off any lecherous men that may come near you," he promised.

"Like you can be trusted now," she said pointedly.

"What?"

"Oh, come on!"

"I can’t help it that you got all hot and bothered over something as simple as me barely brushing past you," he shook his head.

She stared at him, her eyes boring into his like spears. The more frustrated she got, the more his eyes danced. This was a game, it dawned on her. Well, she wasn’t playing. She’d call his bluff and go to sleep. She was a light enough sleeper and had good enough reflexes to snap off anything of his that may unwelcomingly touch her while she slept.

Grabbing a pillow from underneath her seat, she placed it behind her head and closed her eyes.

"Brave now?"

"Shut up, I’m sleeping."

"Fair enough."

He took out a book of his own and began reading. This didn’t last long, as he too had been tired and soon fell fast asleep, his book falling closed in his lap. The two remained asleep, for about an hour until a patch of turbulence hit and the plane shuddered a bit. She woke suddenly, as her arms instinctively attempted to steady herself on her armrests. But she couldn’t move her arms, or her head for that matter. She had turned towards Tristan in her sleep, so her left arm was pinned between the seat and her side, and his arm was securely around her right arm. Her head was resting on the pillow that had evidently fallen to his shoulder, and his head was propped on hers. He was apparently still asleep, until she stirred and tried to pull herself from his clutches.

He opened his eyes as the person under him began to wriggle. Slowly his surroundings came back to him clearly as the plane gave a little more of a shake, and they lost a little altitude. He raised his head slowly, allowing her to move her head. Realizing he had in effect been holding her, he began to withdraw his arm. She grabbed onto it when the plane hit another patch of turbulence, more severe than before. The seatbelt sign came on overhead, and the pilot came over the intercom to inform he flight attendants to take their seats, and assured the cabin of passengers that they were just going through some mild turbulence and they would be out of it shortly.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I just don’t like it when the plane shakes like that."

"It’ll be fine. Uh, sorry, for using you as a pillow," he said, rubbing his neck with his right hand.

"No problem. Guess we were really out, huh?"

"Well, you definitely make a good pillow."

"Anytime."

She thought about what she said, but not until after it came out of her mouth. Was she seriously encouraging Tristan? What was wrong with her?

Tristan also noticed her reply, but didn’t want to jinx her possible change of heart. Glancing at his watch, he noticed they still had five hours left on their flight. London to New York wasn’t the worst flight he’d ever been on, but he had to admit the lengthy flight wasn’t nearly as bad with Rory to pass the time with.

"How much longer?"

"Five hours."

"What should we do now?"

"Why do I get the feeling you are only talking to me because you ran out of batteries for your CD player?"

"You never did answer me."

"No, I don’t have batteries. I don’t carry any battery operated devices with me, other than my cell phone."

"You’re an evil man. What makes you think I have stuff like that?"

"You said you weren’t dating anyone. You never have needs?"

"My needs are met perfectly fine, thank you."

"How?"

"What?"

"I said, how?"

"That’s none of your business."

"I’m baffled. No men, no devices. What are you into? Girls?"

"No!"

"Not that there’s anything wrong with that."

"Tristan," she warned.

"Yeah?"

"Stop."

"Alright. You pick the topic."

"Are you dating anyone?"

"You’ve been dying to ask me that."

"No, I haven’t."

"You skirted the issue, with the marriage question," he pointed out.

"Tristan!"

"What?"

"Focus!"

"No, I’m not dating anyone. At least, no one person."

"Lovely."

"Hey, I have needs, unlike some people."

"I have needs."

"No wonder you’re so crazy, you never take time for yourself."

"So, what you know me now?"

"I’m only going by what you’ve told me. Today, I might add."

She looked at him. Why was he getting to her so badly? Because he was right? Because he was making wild accusations from things that weren’t appropriate to discuss with a mere acquaintance? The thoughts that raced through her mind were making her craziness worse, and something inside of her shifted.

"Look, I’m going to the bathroom," she said suddenly. Before standing, she leaned closer to him and said almost inaudibly, "If you should need me."

She stood and walked up to the small bathroom, careful to leave it unlocked. She held it closed with her hand, leaning against it slightly for support. She couldn’t believe she had actually just done that. Well, on one hand, she could believe it. He was right, and he was infuriating, but she couldn’t deny that as long as she had known him, she had found him more than attractive. He had this quality about him that just drove her crazy in a way that she never wanted to escape from him. Closing her eyes, she thought about what would happen if he didn’t come. She was in need of… something. Something that she wanted more than anything to come in the form of him enveloping her and driving her over the edge. Could she go out there and sit next to him and ignore him for the next five hours now?

Just as she was deciding there was no way he was going to follow her, she turned on the sink to splash water on her flushed face, letting go of the still unlocked door. She almost fell over as the door was pushed in towards her, surprising her. She started to call out to the person that had unknowingly walked into the bathroom, but he slipped a hand over her open mouth. With his other hand, he pulled the door shut and locked it. Watching over his shoulder, she wondered if he hadn’t done this before, so skilled was he at doing all this with one hand. She nodded slightly and he let his hand fall down her face, skimming her neck and shoulders as he withdrew his hand.

She looked into his eyes for the first time, really studying them. The dark blue circles around the slightly lighter navy color of his irises. The flecks of sky blue that cut through them. The long black eyelashes that frame his eyelids. He was a beautiful man, which she was aware that he knew, but he was beautiful in the most classic meaning of the word. So engrossed was she that she didn’t notice his hands grasp her hips at first, lifting her up on the tiny little sink, so he could move around her. He sat on the closed toilet seat, and allowed her to stand before him again, against the latched door. She had always wondered how two people would fit into one of these bathrooms, let alone have sex in one. Now she realized it was possible, with some finesse and tons of desire clouding your normal better judgment.

He found the zipper on the side of her navy blue suit skirt. Pulling it down quickly, the skirt soon followed suit and hit the floor of the small closet like area. Her jacket had been ditched in her seat before she came into the bathroom, so he next turned his attention to her blouse. He skillfully undid the buttons with one hand as his lips found hers. The other hand was already up underneath the fabric of her shirt, snaking its way up over the smooth satin fabric of her bra.

As he traced over her nipple with the pad of his forefinger, his other hand had freed her of all her buttons. Slipping it off her shoulders, she moved closer to him, so her chest was in his face. She smiled playfully as she unclasped the front hook of her bra, and allowed it to open for him. He placed his hands over her breasts, warming them for a moment. Standing there with his hands on her skin, as she straddled his legs, she made herself slow down and savor each and every moment of what she was doing. She moved her hands to the buttons on his shirt, and he allowed her to undo two buttons before breaking contact with her and lifting the shirt up off his head hastily. It landed in the growing pile of business clothes at their feet. She tugged at his pants, though she lost all sense of purpose as his tongue ran its way around her left nipple before he sucked it into his mouth, suckling and stroking it alternately with his tongue. He continued as a soft whimper came from her throat, and he moved off of it to the other, then licking a small trail down her torso until he got to the top of her panty hose. Shaking his head as if in disapproval, he took his fingers and engaged them into the stretchy fabric, rolling them down her body. She kicked them off her feet, and watched as he moved her back onto the sink. The metal was cool against her bare skin, but she said nothing as he rested her feet over his bare shoulders after having removed his pants quickly as well. He knelt down in front of the sink, and kissed the insides of her legs, starting at her knees, moving slowly and achingly up to the core of her body.

The thought of them being caught flitted through her mind, but the fact that there were other bathrooms and the feeling he was invoking in her body flitted them right back out. He circled her clit with his tongue, teasing her and causing her to lace her fingers into his hair in preparation, he descended on her again with much more force. He sucked the sensitive skin into his mouth, flicking his tongue with more than expertise. With each lave of his tongue, he sent her closer and closer to what she would equate to her reading of nirvana. Unconsciously to her, she held his head closer to her, burying him against her. It didn’t go unnoticed by Tristan, who happily responded to her demands. He took his right hand, which had been tweaking her left nipple and moved over to her hand. She was more or less supported by the mirror, so he moved her hand easily to replace it for his hand on her breast. She got his message, and started touching herself, mimicking the movements he had been making.

She understood why quickly. He took a slow swipe at her clit with a flat tongue as he inserted two fingers into her, and almost sent her over the edge right there. Her body went rigid for a moment, and almost forgot to move her fingers. He looked up at her, satisfied with the reaction, and began to speed up his movements with both his tongue and fingers in perfect rhythm. He wanted her as primed as he was. Just as he felt her inner walls start to clamp down around him, he withdrew his fingers from her and licked around her very sensitive area, now red and engorged from so much attention. She whimpered at the loss of contact, but he quickly moved her so she was facing the mirror, and he again lifted her hips up, so she was off the ground a little. He slid into her with one motion, and he wrapped his hands around her, placing them yet again on her breasts. She was taken aback slightly at the idea that they were watching themselves have sex, but quickly became enraptured at the look of pure desire and ecstasy on his face.

Using her hands to brace herself against the counter, she watched as he began to move inside of her. She’d never felt so full, so sexy or so brazen. Her sex life would be described as normal and healthy, for sure, if not few and far between as it may be. She never lost herself in the other person like this however. This was more than just sex for the purpose of a release. She watched as his whole body responded to hers around him. He slid his hands all over her, usually returning to pay plenty of attention to her breasts, which she thanked him for by bucking back against him in kind. His mouth found a home in the nape of her neck, so his eyes could watch as her head fell back against him in response to the quickening of his thrusts.

Wanting to send her over the edge in a sea of pleasure that he could feel the beginnings of in his low abdomen, he moved his hands once more to her hips for support and began to thrust as hard as his body would allow him. Moving at a fevered pitch, her body seemed to begin to quake from her very center outwards as he thrust harder and deeper into her until she lost all control. Barely able to keep herself stable on the counter in front of her, she rose up and against his chest, her head falling back as she came around him.

Unable to hold out any longer with her clamping down on him at this point, he allowed himself to release into her as well, his fingers digging hard into the soft flesh on her hips and he continued to drive hard and deep into her. She shook as he slowed to a stop and released his grip on her. He slid his arms up around her own, and allowed himself to lean back against the sidewall of the bathroom to support them. He kissed down her sweat-glistened neck, down to her shoulder where he sucked hard enough to make a small mark at the base of her collarbone.

By the time she opened her eyes again, his face was buried into the crook of her neck, with his eyes closed as he regained his composure, and his arms were still securely around her. She moved her arm to push some hair off her face, and he allowed her to spin around so they were face to face again. She kissed him hard, and he followed as she pulled back slightly, tugging her back against him using his teeth to pull her bottom lip. The feeling of his skin against hers felt so good it almost burned. She felt as if her were still inside of her somehow, as if he were melded into her soul. When he finally pulled away from the kiss, she smiled shyly.

"Well, I’ve never done that before," she admitted.

He smirked. "Wait ‘til you try it in an elevator," he promised, his lips descending upon hers one more time.