Going, Going…Gone

by Court81981

Modern AU. Dragged to a charity bachelor auction with her friends, Katniss is stunned to find a familiar face on the block. Written for Prompts in Panem, Peeta's Paint Box, Day 4: Green. Cover art by Ro Nordmann.

Author's Note: Thanks to iLoVeRynMar for the handholding, Jessa and Abba for the planning and the hard work involved with PiP, and to Dierks Bentley's Drunk on a Plane for the inspiration for Peeta's backstory. And a million thanks to Ro for her beautiful cover art and for always supporting me.

M for sexual situations and language. THG belongs to Suzanne Collins.

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~Present Day~

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"We're so going paintballing next month. By the time I'm done with you you're gonna look like a walking Jackson Pollock canvas."

Madge turns and gives Katniss her sweetest, most patronizing smile. "That's how it works, bitch." She thrusts a tented piece of cardstock into Katniss's hand. "When it's your turn to pick the place, I'm always a good sport about it. And I'll gladly shoot your ass with paint pellets, if that's your choice."

Since graduating college last year, Katniss and her friends have had a standing monthly date for Girls' Night Out. They rotate choosing the itinerary, and they usually meet at night, although occasionally someone arranges a daytime outing, like the beach. Sometimes the evenings are more low-key and sometimes they're extravagant, but often their excursions fall somewhere in between.

Katniss usually looks forward to them. She doesn't see as much of her friends as she did in college. But she had not been looking forward to this particular evening at all. She had been disgusted when Madge gleefully announced that their June Night Out would be attending a bachelor auction that was being held to benefit Mrs. Undersee's snooty Women's Club. Not only did it sound downright degrading, but getting all dressed up and sitting around a fancy ballroom with a bunch of older ladies ogling men half their age and desperate young women who needed to buy companionship was the last way Katniss wanted to spend her evening. She expected the others to agree with her.

To Katniss's surprise, Annie had been the first one to hand over a check to Madge. She had declared, with barely restrained glee, that it would be fun to watch from the sidelines as the claws come out. Annie had gotten married last year to her college sweetheart Finnick, so she would be doing no bidding herself. And Johanna and Delly hadn't put up a fight at all. So it was that Katniss found herself gritting her teeth and writing a check.

She glares down at her name, embossed in elegant script, the table "12" centered beneath it. It seems to be mocking her. Maybe it's the font. She never cared for those scrolly curlicued ones.

Johanna snatches her own placard off the mahogany table and gives Katniss a salacious grin. "No worries, Brainless. I'm already planning our July outing to Savage Men. I think we'll need a jaunt to A.C. and some greased up naked men to beat the summer heat. Now where's the open bar? I need some booze in me, stat. Today absolutely sucked." She rotates her wrist and displays a vicious violet bruise, encased by a clear impression of teeth marks. "That little fucker did not want his booster shot."

Katniss, Madge, and Annie all exchange amused glances. Johanna's war stories as a rookie pediatric nurse are never anything less than entertaining, and they're always peppered with graphic details and even more graphic language. Katniss has the theory that because Johanna has to hold her tongue all day working with children, it only encourages her mouth to be fouler outside of the doctor's office, though Annie, who is in her first year as a third-grade teacher, doesn't seem to have the same problem.

"Let's go, ladies!" Madge bubbles, tossing her long blonde hair, and rubbing her hands together excitedly.

"Is it really an open bar if we paid $50 for it?" Annie hisses in Katniss's ear, as the five of them stride through the opulent lobby and towards the ballroom.

"It's for charity!" Madge shoots over her shoulder, her blue eyes narrowing in annoyance. "God, guys, please shut up. This is supposed to be fun!"

Katniss shakes her head and aims a dubious glare at her friend's back. A root canal would be more fun than what lies in store for them this evening. She's not planning on bidding on any of the guys on display, no matter how many times Madge brags that these will be the best bachelors that the greater metro area has to offer. Not only does she not really have the funds to toss around for such a frivolous reason, it seems doubly pathetic to have to buy herself a date. She hasn't been with anyone for over a year, with perfectly just cause, and she's simply not ready to move on. Her pussy is currently closed for business.

She adjusts the top of her strapless gown, easing the tight fabric higher over her breasts. At least she's making good use of the bridesmaid dress from Annie's wedding. Not having to buy a new dress was about the only thing that worked in her favor tonight. Her funds seem to stretch thinner and thinner now that she's in her DPT program at Temple. Unlike her friends, who all went right into the job force, Katniss will need more schooling before she can become a physical therapist. Her disposable income largely comes from her part-time job at Barnes and Noble.

"This is awesome!" Delly gushes, her neck craned up, her blue eyes wide as she gawks at their surroundings. Even Katniss has to admit the ballroom is the fanciest she's ever been in. Annie's wedding was lovely, but it wasn't black-tie, like this. There are scores of round tables strategically arranged throughout the room, all facing a platform that has been erected in front of the expansive windows, which offer a breathtaking backdrop of the cityscape. Katniss imagines it will only be more stunning once the sun fully sets and the buildings are all illuminated and twinkling like starlight.

They locate Table 12. Johanna plunks down her clutch and immediately makes a beeline for the bar in the far rear corner. Madge purses her lips, searching the room for her mother, but it appears they've beaten Mrs. Undersee here. She points Katniss, Annie, and Delly to the other fundraiser in the room, a silent auction, and Delly pleads with Katniss to go check it out, until she relents and follows her friend to the display. Katniss watches quietly as Delly bids on a number of things, folding her slips in half before tossing them in the crystal bowls. Her friend's squeal startles her.

"Katniss!" She feels her arm being gripped tightly. Delly motions to the last bowl on the right. "Look! You totally need to bid on that trip! Look at the destination! Isn't that the same resort as—?"

Katniss feels her stomach clench and her heart stutters. "Yeah…and no, I'm good, Del. I don't think I'll be heading back to Mexico any time soon."

Delly's blue eyes grow heavy with sympathy. "It was such a good time, wasn't it?"

Katniss smiles weakly. "Yeah, it was fun while it lasted…Let's go get something to drink. I think I need a cocktail."

She's already wallowing in nostalgia, so when she reaches the bar she asks for a Jack and Coke. Delly arches a brow at her, but she doesn't question Katniss and orders her own sour apple martini. Drinks in hand, they head back to their table, where they find Mrs. Undersee and her twin sister, Madge's aunt Maysilee, have arrived, along with Madge's cousins and one of Mrs. Undersee's friends. Katniss smiles politely through the introductions and stares down at her whiskey, her mouth salivating in anticipation. She's hasn't touched Jack Daniels in over a year—too many memories. It's better that she doesn't think about him. She usually does a decent job keeping him out of her conscious thoughts; it's in her dreams at night where she loses the battle.

The salads are served just as the chandeliers flicker, signaling that everyone should take their seats. Katniss pokes at the romaine leaves, searching for the honeyed almonds that are likely all buried beneath the mozzarella in her Caprese salad.

"Welcome, welcome!" Katniss immediately lifts her eyes to see who could possibly possess such a gratingly chipper voice. A petite blonde woman sashays across the stage, clutching a microphone. Her blonde corkscrew curls bounce with each step. Katniss gapes at the teetering stiletto heels the lady is perched on, marveling at the fact she can even stay upright on them. Her bright magenta cocktail dress swishes about, like cotton candy on acid. It matches her garish lipstick exactly.

"The committee would have gotten her," Madge's aunt hisses to her mother.

"I'm Effie Trinket, and I am just delighted to be given the honor of presenting twelve of Panem's most eligible bachelors for our 4th Annual Charity Auction! Tonight is such a big, big, big night, and I remind you that it's all for a very good cause. So bid often, bid generously, and may the odds ever be in your favor!" She pauses dramatically, and waits for the applause to die down.

A small man with the whitest teeth Katniss has ever seen strolls onto the stage, also bearing a microphone, and Effie introduces him as Mr. Caesar Flickerman, the evening's auctioneer. Caesar's black suit is pinstriped with hot pink, which is also the color of his bow tie. He and Effie are a sadistically matched set. They exchange some witty banter, or at least Katniss supposes they think it's witty. She's not really listening.

She reaches over and spears one of the discs of fresh mozzarella off Johanna's salad. Her friend is too preoccupied to notice the theft; Johanna already wields her bidding paddle, and her hazel eyes are transfixed on Effie. Katniss snickers and absconds with a cherry tomato before Johanna cuts her eyes to her right and makes a stabbing motion with her fork.

"All right, ladies, get your checkbooks ready!" Effie trills. "Let's meet our first bachelor!" She glances down at her cards and begins to read a prepared biography of the him. As soon as Katniss hears the word "heir" she tunes right out. Not that she's giving any of these men a second look, but spoiled trust fund babies go right to the reject pile. She takes a glimpse around the table and has to smile at the identical expressions on Madge, her mother, her aunt, and her cousins' faces. Madge's cousin Gwyneth even engages in a heated bidding war with four other girls. She lowers her paddle, dejected, when Caesar declares the winning bid of $1500, and an older woman leaps from her seat and celebrates with a much younger brunette, no doubt the actual recipient of the eventual date.

"Jesus," Delly whispers. "$1500? How did I actually think I was going to be able to snag one of these guys?"

"You didn't miss out on that one," Johanna hisses back, leaning across Katniss. "Twenty bucks says he's lame in bed and only does it missionary. An heir to a cracker company? Fuck, that's the most boring food on the planet!"

Katniss sighs and reaches for a roll. It's her third but she might as well eat her $50 worth. Delly is right. She could never afford any of these guys either, even if she wasn't apathetic and indifferent to the whole thing. She's not even sure she has $1500 in her checking account.

They pause for dinner to be served, after the fourth bachelor is auctioned off, but it doesn't seem like twenty minutes pass before Effie is tapping the microphone and commanding everyone's attention again. As she introduces Bachelor #5, the biography sounds oddly familiar, and Katniss nearly chokes on her beef tenderloin when she hears Gale Hawthorne's name called.

"Gale!" she sputters. "Oh my God, who put Gale up to this?" She watches, incredulous, as Gale steps onto the stage, and Katniss has to admit her childhood best friend cleans up nicely. His looks alone will probably have the women in the audience eagerly flashing their paddles, even if he doesn't have the same blue blood credentials as some of these guys.

"Fucking hell, Madge!" Johanna calls across the table, as Madge starts the bidding at $100. "You know he would have fucked you for free years ago!" Madge spins around in her seat, her usually pale complexion a furious scarlet and her blue eyes flashing steel.

"Jo, shhh," Annie admonishes.

Katniss chews the last bite of her steak, and observes the bidding for Gale. There's no doubt in her mind that Madge swindled him into doing this. She's been harboring a crush on him for years, and truly, Katniss can't deduce why they just never went for it. She roots silently for Madge, because she's always thought they'd be a cute couple. At least if they hook up, they can split the difference with Annie and Finnick on nauseating Katniss with their PDAs.

When Madge's winning bid of $2200 is made official with the clap of Caesar's gavel, Katniss has to wonder just how much of that exorbitant total is being funded by Mrs. Undersee. Madge directs her beaming smile at each of them, and then she leans down and whispers something to her cousins. The three of them giggle and Madge takes her seat again. Gale is ushered off stage by a leggy blonde escort.

"By the halls of Valhalla look at that fucking piece of perfection!" Johanna breathes, mock fanning herself with her paddle. Katniss tilts her head and studies the bulky blond man who Effie has just proclaimed something-or-other Gloss. His surname is fitting. He practically emits his own light he's so shiny and golden and broad. But he's too brawny and a little too symmetrical and Katniss loses interest in his bidding quickly. She sneaks her phone out of her purse and covertly drops it into her lap, scrolling through her missed texts to pass the time. She hears Johanna mutter something about it being nice to have money. Katniss looks up and sees Madge's one cousin is back at the bidding, but within several minutes, she's slumping in her seat, getting consoled by her sister and Madge.

Johanna whistles lowly at the next bachelor. "Goddammit, there's a tree I'd totally climb!"

Katniss has to admit he's also very attractive. Tall, clearly well built beneath the tuxedo, skin like cocoa, great smile. He goes fast, as the bidding escalates from $100 to $500 to $1800.

"Wonderful, wonderful!" Effie applauds, as the blonde escort leads Thresh off the stage. "You two will make a lovely couple!" She beams at the petite girl who won him, and then consults her cards. She sighs dreamily and her face looks positively cartoonish, so wide is her grin. "And now we have my personal favorite, Bachelor #8! He's a University of Pennsylvania graduate, so you know he's brilliant, and up until recently he was a contributing editor for Food and Wine magazine, so you know he knows his way around the culinary arts."

Katniss drops her fork and the resounding clatter earns her several reproachful glares from adjacent tables. She offers a hasty smile of apology and takes a long sip of her water. It's just a coincidence. There are tons of men who write for that magazine, right?

Effie continues, "But now he's Panem's newest restaurateur, having opened his own bakery and café on Rittenhouse Square just last month." She pauses and smiles coquettishly. "I know where I'm having lunch on Monday!" The crowd titters and buzzes with anticipation, eagerly awaiting the reveal of the mystery bachelor.

"Let the bidding start for Mr. Peeta Mellark!" she finishes, with her usual flourish. The curtain rustles a little before it parts and the handsome blond man walks confidently onto the stage. Katniss swears all her body systems fail at once, except for her vision, which is locked on the familiar face that's haunted her dreams for the last fifteen months.

"Oh, God," she whispers.

Annie turns and her brows pinch in concern. "Katniss? What's wrong?"

She swallows past the boulder obstructing her throat, never once taking her eyes off of Peeta, and softly replies, "It's him."

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~*~Fifteen months earlier~*~

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"Shit!" Katniss winced and bit down hard on her bottom lip, looking apologetically to the couple and their young son seated below her. "I'm so sorry!" She grimaced as she took a step and a throb of pain seized her pinky toe. She stood her compact suitcase upright and gripped it by the handle, forgoing using the wheels, less she run over another toe. Then she resumed scanning the numbers above the rows, searching for Seat 7C. Stealing a quick peek at her toe, which was already swelling and beginning to resemble a bruised plum, she mentally chided herself for wearing flip-flops for the flight. She had just assumed it would expedite security to be able to easily step out of them, but she forgot that the cramped quarters of the 737 would yield a multitude of hazards for poor baby toes.

Exhaling loudly, she paused beside Row 7 and glanced up at the overhead compartment. It was already bulging with suitcases, duffel bags, and a pair of golf clubs. Golf clubs—what the fuck! She frowned, pulled out her ear buds and jammed them into her skirt pocket with her iPhone. She set her suitcase down on the aisle seat to get a better grip on it, then hoisted it over her head and started to push it into the overheard bin.

"Shit," she swore again, stretching up and pushing harder. She felt her tank top rise up, exposing her belly, and she issued a soft grunt as she shoved harder. Nothing budged. She blew out another breath, ruffling the hair that was fast escaping her loose braid, and gritted her teeth. She rested her suitcase on her seat again, maneuvered the golf clubs to the right, and grabbed her suitcase. Finally, she managed to wedge it into the tiny space she had created. She smiled triumphantly, tugged her tank top back into place, and sunk into her seat.

"Quite the workout you just gave yourself."

The masculine tone sent a frisson skittering down her spine. It was rough, like gravel, and yet she could hear the nuances of something smoother simmering beneath its surface. She turned to her left, in the direction of the voice, and she nearly gasped at the sight of the beautiful man seated by the window. That was the only way to describe him: beautiful. Perhaps it was partially due to the sunshine streaming in through the half-closed window shade that he made him look like some kind of an angel—if angels were now masquerading as Abercrombie and Fitch models. He had one of those faces that begged to be on a 50-foot billboard towering over Times Square or gracing the side of a shopping bag. Strong brow and jaw; tanned cheeks, flecked with golden stubble, like he hadn't shaved in a few days; full lush lips. His eyes gave her pause as they raked over her. There wasn't an accurate or fair way to describe how blue they were.

"I nearly threw those golf clubs into the aisle myself. Pretty sure those things are supposed to get checked." He grinned at her.

"Ah…yeah, kind of inconsiderate," she replied, combing back an errant lock of hair behind her ear. She gave him a polite smile and ignored the slight acceleration of her pulse. As she tore her eyes away from his heavenly visage, her gaze landed on the tray table of the vacant middle seat, which was not only down, but already littered with quite the collection of Jack Daniels mini-bottles and Coke cans. She looked over to the guy's seat and saw an empty plastic cup on his tray table. Only the melting ice cubes remained.

"Is, um…" She struggled with how to phrase her question. The flight had only begun boarding half an hour ago. Was whoever was supposed to be in that middle seat already getting sick in the restroom? Uneasiness flooded her at the thought of spending her flight next to some drunk reeking of whiskey and God knows what else.

"Is this seat taken?" he finished her thought, amusement twinkling in those deep blue eyes. "Is that what you're asking?"

"Ah, yeah, I guess so." She smiled sheepishly.

He picked up the empty cup and swirled it in his hand. The ice cubes bounced off each other like pinballs. His lips curved into a smile.

"That seat would be mine too." Bitterness laced the words. "So feel free to spread out a little."

Before Katniss could register why this impossibly hot man had two seats, and why his tone was now like acid, and why he was assembling a collection of empty mini-bottles, a pretty flight attendant stopped at their row. "Sir, would you like me to take those for you? We'll be taking off soon and tray tables need to be stowed until we're in the air."

Though the smile that he flashed the stewardess was not aimed at Katniss, she felt her stomach do a little flip anyway. God he was sexy.

"Take em, sure. But I'll need another, please," he requested. The acerbic edge to his voice was gone; it now dripped honey. The flight attendant grinned, leaning forward enough to inadvertently give Katniss an eyeful of her generous cleavage, thanks to the top two buttons she had failed to secure—or more likely, had undone when she saw her charge in Seat 7A. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable at being caught in between the guy and the busty blonde, Katniss grabbed the SkyMall catalog from the seat back in front of her and started flipping through the pages. She put her ear buds in and queued up a playlist, then pored over descriptions of items so extravagant and ludicrous that no one should actually own them. She lost herself in her music and read every single word of print in an effort not to pay any attention to the blond Adonis to her left.

The lighted flash of the seatbelt sign roused her from her browsing. She noticed that they had reached cruising altitude. She chanced a peek to her left. The catalog slipped from her hands when she found the hot guy staring at her, a thoughtful expression on his handsome face. He didn't say anything, just clutched his Jack and Coke and continued watching her. Finally, he motioned for her to yank out her ear buds.

"I wasn't aware that the complimentary in-flight entertainment was going to be so good."

"Huh?" She gave him a tentative smile and leaned down to retrieve the dropped catalog, jamming it back in the seat back pocket.

"Your singing. You have a beautiful voice."

"Oh, god…" She shook her head and wrangled her phone free from her skirt pocket. She quickly reached under the seat to hide it in her purse. So much for that. No more accidental singing for the rest of this flight, not with Hot Guy a mere four feet from her. She continued rummaging around unnecessarily to allow the pink stain on her cheeks to fade. Pulling her Kindle out, she settled back and turned the device on, once more trying to disregard Hot Guy.

"So how long are you going to give me the cold shoulder?"

"What!" she exclaimed, and twisted in her seat to face him again. He gave her that unnervingly sexy grin and drained the last of his drink. The moment he set the empty cup down he pressed the call button. Her eyes covertly swept over the two tray tables.

"It's my eighth, if you're counting."

So much for covert. Fuck. She glanced down at her lap and prayed her cheeks weren't blooming crimson again, because her face sure felt hot in spite the chill of the cabin.

"It's fine. I'm not embarrassed. You shouldn't be," he added.

"I'm sorry…it's none of my business," she apologized. "I'm sure you have a good reason for it."

"Good reason for getting drunk?" He arched a blond brow at her. She nodded. "Does anyone need to have a reason for getting drunk on a plane?"

She bit her lip and studied him. His wide blue eyes, focused on her, didn't show any trace of being bloodshot. His speech was still coherent and words were being articulated pretty clearly. He didn't seem drunk, not yet.

The flight attendant appeared, his already-poured drink in her hand. She bent her knees a little and leaned way over Katniss, offering the cup to him. Katniss could hear the throaty purr of the stewardess's voice as she informed the guy that if he needed a shoulder to cry on, or something else more stimulating, she would be happy to oblige.

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," he said.

Katniss wrinkled her nose as the cloying scent of the blonde's perfume stuck in her nostrils. The flight attendant was just straightening back up when the guy spoke again.

"Did you want something?"

Katniss felt a warm hand on her shoulder and she nearly jumped out of her seat at the chaste touch. The heat of his palm on her bare flesh sent a series of tingles racing down her arm, but the heat of his gaze was almost as electric, penetrating her with those intense blue irises. He motioned to the flight attendant and then looked back at Katniss.

"Pick your poison. It's on me. It's more fun to drink with someone else."

"Oh…ah…" Katniss glanced up and saw the blonde glaring down at her with an expression that barely concealed blatant irritation and envy. "I'll have what he's having." She normally didn't drink whiskey and she'd probably regret it, but the selection was limited in flight anyway. The stewardess gave her a clipped smile and spun on her heel.

"So, um, what's your good reason?" she prompted.

He raised the cup up to eye level and appraised the dark amber concoction. "You see this seat?" He jerked the cup towards the empty seat between them. A stream of the liquor and soda splashed onto the seat back. She nodded and held her breath, as she could physically see the sorrow seeping into those beautiful eyes.

"It wasn't supposed to be empty," he continued, closing his eyes. "She was supposed to be here with me."

Katniss's stomach plummeted. She. Her eyes instantly went to his hands, searching the fourth finger of his left one. He was holding his cup at an angle so that she couldn't get a good look at whether or not there was a wedding band encircling the finger. From the pain in his voice, Katniss could only presume that this mystery woman was no longer with him. Was he a widower? He looked young, probably only a few years older than her.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"For what?" he asked flatly, tipping back the cup. She couldn't help herself; she watched the bob of his throat as he took two long swallows and finished off the Jack and Coke. His throat muscles in motion were incredibly sensual. His lips smacked as he opened his mouth to speak again. "I haven't told you who she is and why she's not here."

She didn't miss the bitter edge to his enunciation. A patronizing cough caught Katniss's attention. The flight attendant gave her a bitchy smile and thrust a cup towards Katniss. She said a polite thank-you and was rewarded with silence.

"Cheers," he said, aiming his empty cup towards her. She startled and took a moment to raise her drink to his. "You know, before I go pouring my heart out to you it might be nice to know your name."

She sipped the whiskey and cola, mildly surprised that the taste was a lot smoother than she'd have expected. Maybe this was why Johanna was always ordering hard liquor, instead of those fancy cocktails Madge and Annie tended to steer Katniss towards. She took another sip, letting the liquid courage begin its journey into her veins.

"Katniss," she replied.

"Katniss," he tested. "I've never heard that one before."

She decided to spare him the etymology of her name, and instead she just basked in the erotic way it sounded rolling off his tongue. She'd never heard it spoken with such reverence. None of the guys she dated ever made it sound so good—hell, the last date she had been on the loser had erroneously called her Katie for half the evening before she lost her patience and corrected him.

"What's yours?"

His lips pursed. "Peeta." He didn't wait for her to react before shifting in his seat to more fully face her. "Well, then, now that we have those formalities out of the way, would you like to hear a story?"

How does he do that, she wondered. How can he make anything sound so incredibly sexual? She nodded as Peeta cleared his throat and locked that intense gaze on her. "Most stories begin 'Once upon a time' don't they?"

"The fairy tales do."

"Well this isn't a fairy tale. More like a horror story or a tragedy. How do they start?"

"I'm not sure," she shrugged. "They usually end with everyone dead though." She felt her face twist into a grimace, and Peeta laughed, a pleasant sound.

"This may be bad, but it's not that dramatic." He took a deep breath and scratched at his stubbled jaw. "This was supposed to be my honeymoon flight. I was supposed to get married three days ago."

Her stomach flipped again, far less viciously as it did earlier, but a strange sensation of loss ebbed through her as she listened, rapt, to Peeta explaining the details of how his fiancée called off the wedding the night before the ceremony, confessing that she had met someone else and she couldn't marry him. The despondent look in his eyes and the plaintive ache in his voice were a fist around Katniss's heart. She barely knew this guy, but she felt his pain, his anguish, and moreover, she felt a seething anger towards this Cashmere woman who so callously shattered his heart into smithereens. She shook her head incredulously and it was enough to cause Peeta to pause in his exposition.

"What?" he asked cautiously. "What's wrong?"

She smiled humorlessly and ran her finger around the lip of her Jack and Coke, trying to find the best way to vent her feelings. She didn't really have the right to go slandering this guy's ex-fiancée. No matter how hurt he was, or how wounded his pride and ego was at being cheated on, he obviously loved her enough at one point—and possibly still did—to be ready to commit his life to her. Katniss had to be careful how she treaded here, which was enough of a worry in and of itself, because no one had ever accused her of having much tact.

"Why are you taking your honeymoon? Isn't this only going to remind you of her?" She trailed off and flushed. Wrong angle. It was none of her business to ask such an intimate question, and furthermore it was kind of insensitive to cut deeper into such fresh wounds.

Peeta seemed unfazed. "Yeah, Mexico was her idea. I had wanted something a little more exotic, or maybe even something more adventurous. But she wouldn't budge; she wanted Cancun. And I wanted her happy. So I booked a week at one of the best all-inclusive resorts, right on the beach." He gave a wry smirk. "I tried to cancel the trip. I could have switched the plane tickets, but the resort said no refunds. Couldn't get my money back. So here I am. Me and Seat 7A and Jack Daniels."

"That's…uh…brave of you?" she supplied, immediately blushing again, and she hastily knocked back the rest of her whiskey.

He grinned. "Yeah, well, life goes on. You have to believe that cliché, right? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger? I figure a whole lot of tequila and sunshine and some good hands and maybe some meaningless sex will at least help me temporarily forget."

Katniss nearly choked on the ice cube she was rolling around on her tongue. His grin turned positively feral as his finger depressed the call button.

"A little too much of a confession for you?" he said thickly, his words slurring faintly. He set his elbow on the armrest and leaned closer to her.

"What...No! No!" she sputtered, heat trickling along her neck and leaching down her chest, accompanied by a spear of warmth between her legs. But she had never been a good liar, especially not since her body always seemed to betray her.

"It makes you uncomfortable that I'm telling you my plans for the week so candidly, doesn't it?"

She tried to shake her head, but she felt completely exposed under his gaze and for once was grateful that she had put on a bra under her tank top so he couldn't see her nipples puckering.

"You see, Katniss, I'm going to enjoy myself for the next seven days. I'm a young, attractive guy, right?"

She nodded, her throat tight, her limbs tingling.

He leaned closed, and she could see that his blue irises had darkened considerably, and they were harder to discern from his fat pupils. "Do you find me attractive, Katniss?"

Fuck, the way he kept saying her name…each time he spoke the coil in her lower abdomen constricted a little more and another trickle of moisture seeped into her panties.

"Yes," she whispered. "You're really, really attractive. You're…" She swallowed, seeing his eyes beseech her to continue. She was so not versed in this kind of wanton flirting, but knowing what Peeta had been through in the past few days coaxed her along. She wanted to make this beautiful stranger feel wanted. "You're the hottest guy I've ever seen."

"Well thank you," he murmured, and she swore that her clit actually throbbed in response.

Then he abruptly sat up and glanced over her shoulder. "Ah…could you take these away, please, and bring us two more?" Katniss twisted and saw the disapproving eyes of the flight attendant on them. How quickly the demeanor had changed. A little thrill curled through Katniss at the thought that the woman was jealous of her. But the stewardess did her job and gathered up the trash on the tray table, though Katniss didn't think the jostling of an elbow right into her shoulder was entirely accidental.

As soon as the tray table was clear, Peeta locked it back into place and motioned for her to undo her seat belt. "Come. Sit next to me."

With trembling fingers she fumbled with the clasp and released it. She slowly eased herself up and sank into the middle seat, acutely aware of how much closer she now was to him. She could smell the whiskey on his breath and with each short, labored breath she took she also caught a whiff of something spicy, something she couldn't quite place—cinnamon? nutmeg? —and something woodsy and very male.

"I might be a little drunk right now," he whispered, "but I can assure you that my vision is in tact, and you need to know that I find you incredibly attractive too." He reached over and gently took her loose braid in his hand. His thumb rubbed up and down the plaited strands, and the chaste touch had her humming like an electric fence. "You probably don't even know how beautiful you are, do you?"

She shook her head. He made a little scoffing sound, and twirled the end of her braid in lazy revolutions, his gaze burning into her.

"You are. You're so very pretty." He leaned around her abruptly and unlatched the tray table at her former seat. He nodded to the flight attendant to place both new drinks on it, and as he moved back to his seat, her breath caught in her throat when he lingered beside her for a beat longer than necessary.

"Tell me, Katniss, why are you heading to Cancun?"

She grabbed one of the Jack and Cokes and took a long drink, desperately needing to quell her nerves. She swallowed, letting the whiskey lull her veins into submission. Then she explained she was on Spring Break, and since she was a senior this would be the last hurrah for her and her friends. They were meeting in Mexico for four days of stereotypical fun in the sun, before the real world beckoned and it inevitably became a living hell to coordinate getting time off amongst the five of them. The others had flown down yesterday, but she had an exam she could not reschedule, and thus, she had to take a later flight, alone. It seemed fortuitous now, of course, being on this flight, with him.

"Would they miss you?"

She blinked and felt her face pull into a perplexed expression. "What do you mean?"

"My plans."

"Your plans?" she echoed dumbly.

"My plans for the week. I think they might need some adjusting."

Her heart started thumping wildly.

"This is the alcohol talking again, cause I'm not usually this bold. Don't hold it against me. I boarded this plane intent on getting drunk, and having meaningless sex to get over my ex. If all I wanted were a good dick sucking or a quick fuck, that flight attendant would have gladly obliged me. And there are a few other girls on this flight who definitely made it clear that they probably would have done the same. But from the moment you stopped beside that seat, I knew I was fucked. I knew I wanted more."

She didn't dare breathe. She wasn't sure she even remembered how to breathe. She knew she needed air, which was a bit of a challenge at the moment.

"Are you with me, sweetheart?"

She nodded, and he smiled at her, releasing her braid from his grasp. He gestured for her to pass him the other drink, and she complied. The liquor sloshed up the sides of the plastic from the tremors seizing her hand. He dropped his gaze briefly, but did nothing to call attention to her shaking.

"So I'm wondering if your friends will miss you, if I propose you something and you accept my offer."

"Ah…I'm not sure," she croaked. She wished she were more experienced in this kind of flirting, and then maybe she wouldn't seem like such a jittery fucking mess. Peeta had the right idea. She just needed to drink more.

"I have this big, beautiful suite at the Playa Joya…" He started describing the luxury resort, rattling off its countless amenities, and she felt her eyes getting rounder with each new item he referenced. Everything sounded like pure bliss, from the food, to the pools, to the spa treatments, and the facilities available to guests.

His blue eyes sobered for a moment. He swigged the rest of his drink and leaned across her again to set the empty cup down, but this time, he did not settle all the way back in his seat. He placed one hand on her knee, just below where the hem of her skirt ended, and one finger tipped her chin, forcing her to look directly into those eyes. Her entire body was now engulfed in flames. She felt as if she were going to combust. He was going to be the death of her. Johanna and Madge and the others would be claiming her ashes in baggage and sending her home in an urn for her mother and sister to scatter somewhere.

His voice was hushed when he asked her not to judge him for what he was about to confess. She stared at him and let her eyes respond for her, and he smiled, relieved, as he divulged he had all intentions of finding a different girl each night to try to fuck his ex out of his head.

"See, I haven't slept with many women," he whispered. "So it seemed like a good idea at first. I mean…she fucked someone else, why shouldn't I return the favor?"

"I can see why you would think that," she said quietly, struggling not to conjure up an image of what he might look like naked during the act he kept referencing so casually.

"But I don't think that I want any strange woman. I can't do meaningless. I can do no-strings, but it can't be meaningless…And maybe what I'm about to ask you isn't entirely fair of me, because I'm pretty fucked up right now, in more ways than one, and you didn't plan on this when you boarded this plane today, but the worst thing you can say is no, tell me to fuck off, and I never see you again once we disembark this plane."

He was rambling now; whether it was the alcohol or nerves, or maybe both, she wasn't sure. She waited for him to take a breath, to gather his composure, because it seemed like he hadn't stopped talking for nearly an entire minute, but she became distracted by the prickling sensation migrating up her thigh, from the spot where his fingers danced along her bare knee.

"Katniss?" He was practically panting her name now.

She took a quick breath and steeled herself to sound as seductive as possible. Her stomach was one giant knot; her body alighted with anticipation for what she thought he was getting at.

"I'm listening," she purred, but she wasn't entirely sure she accomplished the whole seduction thing.

His fingers ghosted a little higher on her knee, disappearing under her skirt just an inch, and reflexively she closed her eyes.

"Here's what I want, Katniss: I want you." The candid confession caused her eyes to fly open and the fire crackling in his eyes made her squirm in her seat, which in turn only sent his hand higher still on her thigh. His fingertips tickled the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and she struggled not to clench her pussy as it flooded with more moisture. He'd definitely feel it if she tensed up right now.

"You want me?" she whispered, awed. In spite of the smoldering looks and not-so-innocent touches he'd been gracing her with, she still couldn't believe this guy was for real and he actually wanted her.

He cupped her cheek and let his pinky finger lazily trace her lower lip. "I want you so much. Can I have you? Tell me I can have you."

"Peeta…I…" She glanced around and appraised the situation. The plane was full; not a single empty seat to be found. It would absolutely not go unnoticed if they both left their seats, and anyone who had dared to chance a look at them over the past ten minutes would know immediately what their intentions were. Still, an illicit thrill curled through her at the thought of fucking him, even if it was in a cramped airplane lavatory. And it wasn't like she was ever going to see any of these people again…

"I think that the restrooms are all—"

He stilled his finger on her lip, gently tugging it downward. His breath was hot on her lips as he bent even closer to her.

"Not here," he murmured. "When we land. I have that big empty suite and no one to share it with. Think about it, Katniss…we…could…be…so…good…"

He started to lurch forward, and she held her breath. He was right there. He was going to kiss her. He was going to…lay his head on her shoulder? His finger slipped from her lip, and loud puff of air expelled from his parted mouth. His eyes were closed.

He was asleep. Or, more accurately, he had passed out.

Frustration and relief shadowboxed in her heart.

She wasn't ready for that moment to end, especially not so abruptly. She had desperately wanted to feel those lush lips on hers, to know how they fit against hers, or how he might wield his tongue. If he had kissed her, she would have been completely pliable to however he might have wanted to use her.

But with him snoozing soundly against her, she crashed back to reality. His blunt confession rang in her ears. Yet he had told her more than once it had been the alcohol talking. When all was said and done, when Peeta sobered up he was going to remember his original intentions. She would revert to being the warm body in the aisle seat, an outlet for his heartache and his need to prove he was sexually virile, while they were in the air. Once they left the plane, he'd check into his ritzy resort, seduce a few lonely women, get his rocks off and his ego stroked, and life would go on. He'd heal from this. Someone would mend the shards of his broken heart and puzzle it back together again. There was no way a guy like Peeta wouldn't eventually get his happy ending; he'd be slipping a ring on another woman's finger someday, one who would actually show up at the church on their wedding day.

She stared down at the man dozing on her shoulder. She studied the arch of his brow and the slope of his nose. Her gaze lingered on the gilded fringe of his eyelashes, longer than any she'd seen on a man before. His breath escaped his nostrils in sharp rumbles, but she found she didn't mind the sound. Normally, snoring pissed her off. When she roomed with Johanna sophomore year, it was a nightly battle not to smother her friend with a pillow. (Once Johanna was diagnosed with sleep apnea, Katniss felt an iota of guilt for that repeated urge.) Peeta made snoring sound almost pleasant.

Yeah, he was beautiful, but in this state, he was also unabashedly vulnerable, and she fully exploited that in order to keep staring at him for the better part of fifteen minutes.

It was a sudden rush of air, billowing his lips outward, that jolted her. With a deep cleansing breath of her own, she gingerly reached over to her old seat and grabbed her Kindle to immerse herself in the Scottish Highlands, only occasionally pausing in her reading to wonder if fate really did have a hand in guiding you towards your soul mate.

When the pilot announced their descent into Cancun some time later, Katniss shut down her Kindle and set it aside.

"Peeta," she murmured, gently jostling his leg. She couldn't resist splaying her palm over the solid muscle and squeezing, when at first he didn't stir. "Peeta," she tried again. "We're going to be landing soon."

A chuffing sound preceded the flutter of those mile-long eyelashes, like spun gold, and he angled his neck and fixed those wide pools of azure on her.

"Hi," he said, his voice rough with sleep. He blinked several times in succession, and awareness slowly lit his blue eyes. "Shit, how long have I been out?" He raised his head, wincing, his fingers massaging his temples. "Oh, god, was I on you this whole time?"

She flushed a little and dropped her eyes. "Uh, yeah…it's fine though. Technology's a great thing, I only need one hand for my eReader."

He dragged a hand through his rumpled hair and straightened back in his seat, working his jaw, and she could tell he was running his tongue repeatedly over his teeth. He glanced out the window and smiled.

"Quite a sight." He motioned for her to take a peek, and she hesitated momentarily before leaning as far as her seat belt would permit, intensely aware of the way her left breast came perilously close to his arm.

"Katniss." His hand clasped hers as she retreated to her seat, holding her in place, his eyes searching hers. "I was serious about what I said…right before I fell asleep." He curved the knuckle of his thumb along her cheekbone, raising the goose flesh on her arms. "And I still want you. I don't need you to give me an answer right now. Just…promise me you'll think about it."

She shivered again. She would think about it. She knew that she wouldn't stop thinking about it. Whether or not she could act on it was an entirely different story.

When she disembarked the plane twenty minutes later and walked up the jetway to emerge at the gate, Peeta seized her arm and pulled her to the side. He crushed her lips to his, and the contact immediately ignited a flame in her that she knew she would be powerless to extinguish. His mouth tasted a bit stale from the whiskey and the sleep, but his lips moved with such passion, such voracity, against hers that she hardly dared to care.

"You know where to find me," he said gruffly, caressing her hip tenderly, though his other hand's pressure on the small of her back was in stark contrast to the gentle ministrations of its partner. He dipped his mouth to claim hers in one more demanding kiss, teasing her with just a swipe of his tongue before he broke free.

She watched him walk away in the direction of the baggage claim. Her body pulsed with current, and more electricity popped in her veins when he twisted around to steal one last look at her. Still trembling, she walked as fast as her legs would allow her towards the street exit, her suitcase wobbling on its wheels the entire way.

---

She texted Annie the moment the cab deposited her in front of the hotel, figuring that she would be the most likely to be sober enough to come meet Katniss and get her up to the room. But to her surprise, all four girls came rushing through the lobby to where she loitered near a grove of palm trees.

Johanna eyed her critically, and Katniss withered a little under the scrutiny. It only took a moment, but Johanna's hazel eyes glinted and she grinned.

"Holy shit, you fucking slut, you already bagged your fling!"

"What!" Katniss spat, indignant. "What are you talking about?"

Johanna elbowed Delly in the ribs. "Look at her face. She can spout whatever bullshit she wants, but her face doesn't lie. You look freshly fucked, Brainless. Spill the details on your induction into the Mile-High Club, ho!"

"Jesus, Johanna, let her get her stuff up to the room." Madge's blue eyes gleamed. "Then we can ply her with margaritas and get the goods out of her."

It didn't take long for Katniss to deposit her suitcase and bag in their suite, which already looked like an F-5 cyclone had not only hit, but had doubled-back and struck a second time. She ignored the taunts through the bathroom door while she stripped and changed into her bikini. After a half-assed job slathering on some sunscreen, she let her friends lead the way to the pool, where they had claimed a cabana earlier in the morning.

"Talk, bitch!" Johanna commanded, once they'd ordered a round of margaritas.

Katniss lowered her sunglasses and rolled her shoulders as she sank back against the plush chaise lounge. "I didn't fuck anyone," she started, raising her hands in protest when Johanna immediately called bullshit. "But yeah, I might have met a guy on the plane."

She licked the rim of the glass and took a long sip of her margarita, relishing the sting of the tequila as it mingled with the salt on her tongue. Then she proceeded to rehash her entire flight, with Johanna, Madge, Delly, and Annie hanging onto every word.

"You have to do it, Katniss! You have to go to him!" Delly bubbled, after Katniss had wrapped up her story by describing the searing kisses Peeta planted on her just outside the baggage claim.

Johanna slurped her margarita noisily. "You've been handed a gift on a fucking silver platter!"

Katniss cast one dubious look after another around the cabana, at each of her friend's. "You guys really were serious about that stupid pact?"

The whole idea for their retreat had been born while they were lounging around the living room of their off-campus house on a Tuesday night, drinking and chatting. Delly had been out of sorts, having been dumped by her longtime boyfriend the week earlier, when Johanna had gotten the auspicious idea that they all go to Cancun. And then she raised the stakes by suggesting that with the exception of Annie, who had gotten engaged over Christmas, she, Delly, Madge, and Katniss should all have a fling while in Mexico. Delly had eagerly agreed, and Madge and Katniss, after some persuasion, hadn't totally dismissed the possibility. But Katniss hadn't firmly agreed to it either.

She had never ever been one for casual sex. She wasn't one of those girls who needed every sexual experience to be candlelight and soft music and rose petals, but she was fairly picky when it came to whom she went out with. She didn't feel the need to waste her time; once she realized she wasn't compatible with a guy, she didn't see it necessary to go out with them again. And up until today, when she met Peeta, she had never had such an instant attraction to a man to the point where she would even have considered a one-night stand. She'd only slept with two guys (and fooled around with a couple of others). She had sex a grand total of eleven times, which was less than Johanna's entire tally of sexual partners.

"Of course we're serious!" Johanna scoffed. "Delly's been working on the cabana boy since ten this morning."

Katniss frowned. "I just don't…I mean…isn't that kind of using him?"

Annie furrowed her brows. "Well…wouldn't you be using each other? He's not proposing marriage to you, Katniss. He wants you. He wants to fuck you, and feel good for a few days, to forget about that see-you-next-Tuesday who broke his heart…it's a fling for him too."

Katniss ran her finger along the rim and brought it to her mouth, sucking on the salty tip thoughtfully. Annie had a point. A very good point. Peeta wasn't looking for something serious. She was as much a means to an end for him as he was for her. She needed to stop overanalyzing the way that Peeta proposed their potential hookup. He was drunk. He said sweet things, made her feel special, but bottom line was his motives were just as self-serving as hers.

And that kiss…a man who could stir such desire in her from one—okay, two—impassioned kisses…god, she couldn't imagine how good the sex might be.

"But I just got here…you guys won't be mad at me for going off…" Katniss pressed her lips together. She polished off the rest of her margarita and glanced around at her friends. "I mean, he said he wanted me to spend the whole time I'm here with him…are you guys okay with that?"

"Go grab your suitcase and get the hell out of here!" Madge cried.

"Are you sure—?"

"Go!" they all yelled in unison.

Katniss exhaled, bade her friends good-bye, and headed back up to the room to change. She considered leaving her bikini on for a moment, but she opted for the sexiest underwear she packed, and threw a sundress on over it. She skipped a bra; her tits had always been perky enough to get by without one. She unraveled her braid, finger-combed the kinky waves, and frowned at her reflection. Spying Madge's cosmetics bag open on the bathroom counter, she swiped a tube of Madge's expensive lip gloss, smeared it on her fingertip, and applied it to her lips. There.

She got a cab outside the main entrance, nervously gave the driver the name of Peeta's resort, and though she knew she massacred the pronunciation, the cabbie seemed to comprehend. He started the meter and pulled away from the curb. Her heart started to race. Her hands felt clammy. Her stomach flipped expectantly. The ride seemed to take forever.

After she paid the cabbie and retrieved her bags, she strolled into the tropical oasis that passed as the lobby of the Playa. Her eyes widened as she looked around, searching for the concierge desk. She had no way to contact Peeta; he hadn't given her a cell phone number. She only had the name of the resort, and his name, to go on.

Oh, god. She didn't even know his last name! What the hell was she thinking? A deluge of panic suddenly hit her. He was a stranger. She was about to go to a hotel room with a total stranger, and only her friends knew she was there…shit, does her cell phone even work down here, if there were some kind of emergency…?

"Katniss?"

She spun around at the sound of his voice; her mouth went dry at the sight of him. He was wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts that sat low on his hips. It drew her eyes right to those deliciously defined core muscles that comprised his lower abdominal region. She saw a lot of these Vs in her course work and in her clinical experience. But Peeta's torso was a thing of beauty. His muscle tone was lean, not bulky, and fuck, even his navel was perfect. She had the sudden compulsion to put her hands on him.

Holy fuck, she was going to get to put her hands all over him.

"You came," he murmured, striding towards her, a pleased smile tugging at his lips.

"Not yet I didn't," she whispered, and almost automatically she cringed, annoyed with herself for such a lame double entendre.

But Peeta seemed to approve. He curled one hand around her waist, lowered his mouth, and sealed it over hers, possessing her lips with an urgency that had her knees locking and her thighs clenching.

He released her, his chest heaving, his eyes obsidian with lust. "I was just on my way to the pool…good timing, I guess."

"I guess," she echoed, trying to catch her own breath.

"C'mon…The pool can wait…I can't."

The tone of his voice was liquid smoke as he said those last two words. It had her pussy tingling again and her body enflamed with anticipation. He smiled down at her, took her suitcase from her, and arched a brow.

"Does this mean you'll stay with me…?"

She swallowed. "If that's what you want."

He nodded deliberately and tangled their fingers. "That's definitely what I want."

The fact that there were other people in the elevator when the doors glided open didn't seem to deter Peeta. Once inside, he brought her flush against him and dropped his mouth to suckle on her earlobe, teasing the soft flesh with a gentle scrape of his teeth. His hands roamed over her hips, his fingers rucking the fabric, and she had to suppress a moan when she felt him hardening against her belly.

"Fuck, I want you so bad." A chill raced down her spine, brought on by the intermingling sensations of his hot breath and the damp trail of saliva he left on the shell of her ear. In response she rose onto her toes and grinded her pelvis into him.

The elevator seemed to take even longer than the damn taxi ride over. When the doors finally parted and Peeta led her down the short corridor, she scanned the brass placards mounted on each door in the wing. There must have been eight honeymoon suites, all bearing different names. Peeta stopped in front of one that read La Perla. Even her horrific retention of high school Spanish allowed her to translate that with ease: The Pearl.

She paused and stared at the sign; for a split second, she felt a little odd, about to head into a room designated for newlyweds, with a guy she had barely known for twelve hours—a guy who, she remembered, she didn't yet know the last name of.

It only took Peeta gathering her hair to the side and butterflying his lips over her spinal cord to ease her back into blissful ignorance. She lolled her head against his shoulder, her stomach twisting hotly as he continued kissing her neck with slow and sensual brushes of his lips. He struggled to get the electronic key read properly, and he growled into her skin, frustrated, until the metal panel flashed green and a small click invited them to enter. His hard body pressed into her from behind, urging her across the threshold. He kicked the door closed behind them and set her things down.

She didn't have the chance to look around at the luxurious suite and or to gawk at its lavishness. Peeta whirled her around and rooted her in place with a carnal stare. His eyes raked down her body; wide, aware, they showed no residual effect of his previously intoxicated state. He had obviously sobered up considerably in the three hours since she last saw him. The tip of his pink tongue peeked out as he wet his lips, just before he descended on her.

This kiss was as equally demanding as the one in the lobby. His hands skimmed down to cup her ass, urging her against him, and she gasped into his mouth as she made contact with his erection. He was fully hard, and good lord, he was big. It was impossible to miss. She rubbed herself against him, the material of his swimsuit offering little resistance. When he parted his lips to groan his approval, she swiped her tongue along the lower swell, daring him to accept it. With another low growl, his tongue shot out and seized hers roughly. He sucked it into the wet warmth of his mouth, massaging it fervently, until she met him stroke for stroke, and it became a game of dominance.

As they continued kissing, and started staggering towards the bed, she let her hands explore the sinewy plane of his toned back, kneading the muscles of his shoulders, and rolling her knuckles along his vertebrae. His hands were still firmly planted on her ass, his fingers coming tantalizingly close to slipping under the short hem of her dress.

Peeta broke away, panting, when they reached the foot of the massive king-sized bed. It was then Katniss noticed that the comforter was already turned down, the sheets were askew, and the pillows were no longer in that neat linear arrangement that hotels always seem to use for presentation. She wondered if he had taken a nap when he arrived at the resort; perhaps that explained his improved condition.

It seemed as if there were a hundred things that they should be discussing, now that he wasn't drunk, but her tongue was heavy, paralyzed from their kisses, and her entire body was begging for him to possess it—every nerve, every muscle, every inch of her skin.

It didn't matter, because the movement of Peeta's hands to his waist commanded her attention. He shed his swimsuit and kicked it aside, and then she was at a loss for words anew. Gaping at his impressive erection, there was no denying she had been right about his size. She had even underestimated him. His cock was thick, though well proportioned for his solid body, and if she was honest with herself, it was a little intimidating.

He grinned, almost shyly this time, and stepped towards her, his cock bobbing. He kissed her hungrily but briefly, and his eyes were glittering when he pulled back. His fingers danced up her arm, settling over her sundress's thin strap. He eased it off her shoulder and kissed the exposed skin. "How do you want to come first, Katniss?" he rasped.

Jesus.

His lips climbed the slope of her neck, his tongue flicking out to lick along her jugular. "Should I use my mouth?" He paused to suck on her pulse point, hard enough to elicit a jolt of pain that quickly melted into pleasure. It felt so good she didn't even care if the evidence would be visible come tomorrow.

His hands snuck under her sundress, ruched up the hem, and his thumbs began toying with the sides of her thong. "Or maybe I'll start with my fingers." He bent his knees and dragged the panties down her legs, just barely brushing his knuckles over her calves as he rose to stand again. He raised her skirt with one hand and her teeth clamped onto her bottom lip when his index finger traced the length of her slick core. Slowly he raised the digit and sucked it into his mouth.

"Mmm…so good. You're so wet already. You're ready for me to make you come, aren't you?"

She nodded mutely. She was so incredibly aroused, yet he really hadn't done much to her. She feared when he finally put his mouth or his hands on her, she was going to implode, like a stick of dynamite.

"Or should I go right for my cock?" He took himself in his hand and stroked his shaft up and down several times. The sight of him touching himself was almost more erotic than the things he had been saying to her, and she whimpered and bucked her hips towards him. He laughed softly. "I bet you'll feel so fucking amazing once I'm buried inside you, that hot, tight pussy of yours taking every inch of me, hmm?"

"Oh god!" She moaned. Another low, throaty chuckle from him preceded his hand tugging the other strap of her dress down.

"So, what will it be?" he whispered, easing her dress over her breasts. His cock jumped and she felt it graze her thigh as he stared at her tits. Her nipples had been hard since they started kissing, and the chill from the air-conditioned room and the ceiling fans made them tingle even more. She ached for him all over.

"Your mouth," she pleaded. "Use your mouth, please." Sad as it was, none of the guys she'd been with had ever gone down on her. She was dying to know how it felt to be eaten out, and she had the feeling that Peeta would be insanely good at it.

"I was hoping you'd say that." He gently eased her up onto the bed, and she laid back, sprawled diagonally across the generous surface. He coaxed her down to the edge of the bed, where he knelt and appraised her hungrily. She tried not to be self-conscious, lying completely naked, exposed, because she knew that her breasts could be a little bigger, and she could have a few more curves, and thank goodness she had gotten waxed before…

What was she saying? The first pass of his tongue through her wet folds rendered her mute, and she wasn't sure she could even remember his name so she could scream it. She knew this wasn't going to take long. That tingling behind her navel had grown to a steady buzz. He was going to undo her, fast.

He licked up the length of her a second time. She arched her back and flailed her arms out to the side, groping for the sheets. His fingers gently urged her to spread her legs wider. She obediently bowed her knees flat against the bed, and granted him the access he sought. After feathering a few kisses to her inner thighs, he resumed lapping at her, his tongue swirling through the damp heat, coming close to where she wanted him but never directly touching her clit. She squirmed, trying to force him into contact with the bundle of nerves. His soft chuckle vibrated through her.

"Patience, sweetheart. I want to savor you."

She contracted her ab muscles and raised herself up a little, sucking in a breath as he locked his half-lidded eyes on her. He held her gaze and finally circled her throbbing clit, pressing the pad of his tongue to it.

"Yes! Yes…god, yes, Peeta…right there, yes!"

Each rhythmic flick of his tongue over her clit was pure bliss. She gripped the sheets tightly, so tight that a bolt of pain shot through her knuckles. When he sucked her engorged nub into his mouth, the precipice was suddenly right there, and she called his name in a breathy cry as she soared over the edge. Wave after wave ecstasy surged through her.

"That's it," he murmured his encouragement against her. He issued a few last languid licks around her still pulsing clit, and then he stood. Through dazed eyes, she watched him walk across the room. His spine was a sinuously beautiful curve bisecting the toned wall of muscle, and she couldn't resist letting her vision linger lower down, on his firm, round ass. He rummaged through something on the floor, and sauntered back towards her, his erection protruding, seemingly pointing right at her. He quickly tore open the foil packet he had retrieved and sheathed himself with the condom. He carefully cradled her, climbing atop her as he shifted their bodies farther up the bed.

"Watching you come got me so fucking hard. And you tasted like heaven," he whispered, his palms bracketing her shoulders as he dipped to kiss her. She could taste her arousal on his tongue when he slipped it inside her mouth. His tongue swept around the warm crevices—her cheeks, the roof of her mouth, the soft palate, exploring her and tasting her thoroughly.

He used his nose to nudge her chin upward, licking down the column of her throat, his breath fanning over her breasts. His expert tongue went back to work, flicking over one taut nipple. She felt a renewed throbbing between her legs as he sucked and nibbled on her tits.

Without warning, he reached down and rubbed his cock through her slick heat, and she felt the head of him graze her clit as he lined himself up with her entrance. He drew back his hips and thrust into her, hard, and in spite of how wet she was, god it hurt.

He pulled back and thrust again, more gently this time, but he drove deeper inside her, and he leaned down to kiss her, a slow, soothing brushing of his lips over hers.

"I know, sweetheart…you're so tight…I'm sorry…"

"No…no…" she choked out, screwing her eyes closed, as the pain ebbed and she felt the coil furling in her belly. "It's fine…you feel good…"

"You feel fucking incredible," he said thickly, pumping in and out of her steadily. He tucked one of her legs up against her stomach, allowing him to drive still deeper into her. She nearly lost her breath when he hit a spot inside her that had her vision blurring and white light dancing before her eyes. She was virtually unaware of the second climax rippling through her until she heard Peeta whisper, with pride lacing his words, "Already, sweetheart?"

As her orgasm continued to wane, he braced his weight on one arm and used his other hand to draw her arms, one by one, above her head to pin them at her wrists. He increased the pace of his thrusts, fucking her faster, with quiet whispers of her name and soft grunts of pleasure. Occasionally the head of his cock would catch the cleft of her clit just right and a faint jolt of pleasure pulsated in her core. She was so delirious from her first two climaxes that she wasn't sure how she was going to keep up with him to do this again later.

She felt him swell imperceptibly inside her a moment before his eyes shut and his hips jerked. He pulsed inside her, and it seemed like he came for a long time. She laid still, letting him bask in the same aftershocks that had rocked her earlier, and she noticed his arm was trembling.

"Katniss…fuck…" he whispered softly, rolling them over, so that he was half sprawled across her but his weight didn't crush her. "Oh…fuck…"

And that was the last thing she remembered before she slipped under.

---

She stirred sometime later, her limbs deliciously heavy, her pussy a little sore. Peeta's chest rose and fell against her cheek, his heart beating a steady cadence beneath her palm. His arm was draped in a perfect curve along her hip, and he was hard beneath the leg she had haphazardly thrown across his groin.

The room was bathed in grey, and she blinked several times, trying to get her bearings. It had to be evening by now. She tried to turn to look at the clock without disturbing Peeta, but his arm tightened around her and his lips found her forehead.

"Not ready to move yet," he growled, his voice rough with sleep.

But her stomach rumbled loudly, and he laughed, hauling her atop his naked body. He reached between them and rubbed her belly gently.

"Give me a few minutes to work up an appetite of my own…then we'll clean up and go to one of the restaurants…unless…" He planted his hands on the small of her back and urged her to straighten her spine. "…Maybe you'd rather we order something in and eat out on the balcony…your choice, sweetheart."

He lifted her hips and they both gasped as he lowered her down on his cock. She sucked in a greedy breath of air as he filled her. He felt impossibly bigger in this position, and he seemed to sense her mild discomfort.

"Your choice, sweetheart," he echoed, though she knew the intentions behind the words were different this time. He was allowing her to set the pace of their fucking this time. His fingers grasped her hips as she started to swivel them. "That's it…good girl…fuck…your pussy…it's like it was made for me…"

She stifled a moan by trapping her lower lip between her teeth. She had never had a guy talk to her like this. How was it that she felt such intimacy with a near stranger, such an immediate level of comfort that with each revolution of her hips, she felt her inhibitions slipping away?

Emboldened by the way Peeta was gazing up at her, she rocked her hips harder and palmed her breasts. She kneaded them, throwing her head back, and when she began to use her thumbs to rub her nipples, a guttural groan ripped from him and he shot up off the bed. He buried his face between her tits, then shoved her hand away and suctioned his lips around one aching nipple. His touch was electric, sending sparks shooting through her core again, and it spurred her to ride him faster.

She came even more powerfully than before, her inner muscles quivering and clenching his cock, and with a strangled cry, Peeta followed her into oblivion. It was only the hot flood of moisture between her legs that stunned her into the realization that they had been so caught up that he hadn't put on a condom this time.

"Shit," he panted, gathering her hair in his palm, using the leverage to tug her mouth down to kiss her roughly. "Oh, god…how is it this good?"

"Peeta, we didn't…"

His eyes rounded and he gazed down at where their bodies were still joined together. "Fuck…I'm sorry. I…" His face flushed and he kissed her slowly. "I'm clean. I haven't been with anyone since my ex, and we always used protection. Are you…I mean…are you protected?" She could hear the edge of uncertainty in his voice.

"Um, yeah, I'm on birth control." She bit her lip. "But we should probably make sure the other times…"

He nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I agree. I'm sorry I was so careless…but Jesus, you felt so fucking good…I'm sorry…"

She silenced him, accepting his apology with a sealing of her lips over his. Her tongue painted the seam of his mouth, begging him entrance, and they let their bodies cool down while their tongues dueled leisurely.

"C'mon," he whispered, nuzzling her nose. "Now I'm famished."

He told her to shower first. She had kind of hoped he'd join her in there, but he promised her that there would be more than enough time for that over the next few days. Before she climbed into the generously oversized stall, she assured him that whatever he ordered from room service would be fine with her.

Once they had both cleaned up and thrown on the resort robes hanging in the closet, Peeta opened the sliding-glass door and led her onto the balcony, leaving the door ajar to listen for the room service. He pulled her down into his lap as he settled in one of the chairs. He caressed her cheek lightly, a smile playing on his lips as he stared into her eyes.

"Thank you, Katniss," he whispered.

"For what?"

He swallowed, and she saw his lips twitch faintly. "For making me feel wanted again."

---

"You can't be serious with this," she whispered.

Peeta came up behind her and looped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Looks like heaven, yeah?"

She shook her head in disbelief, her eyes sweeping over the little thatched building. Soft clouds of white gauze billowed in the breeze. Inside the hut, she could see the two massage tables facing the turquoise sea.

"I definitely need some loosening up," he teased, kissing her neck. "Someone got me all worked up last night…and again this morning."

She blushed. Her own body was achy all over, exhausted from their repeated lovemaking. She paused, her mind hanging on that last word. That wasn't really an accurate description of what they'd been doing. This was sex, plain and simple. They had an arrangement. She had to keep reminding herself of that, because when Peeta's tongue was between her legs, or his cock was deep inside her, as it had been not but a half hour ago, when he had fucked her against the bathroom counter, it was too easy to succumb to thoughts of being with him beyond this fling. She was being foolish. It had been a day. No one can fall in love in a day. Her orgasmic haze was clouding her logic.

"Katniss." His teeth tugged on her earlobe. "They're waiting for us."

The two masseuses were both women, and Katniss didn't miss the dejected look that flitted across the taller one's face when she learned Peeta belonged to the shorter woman.

"You can both take off everything but your underwear and get comfortable on the tables. Sir, you'll be on the left. On your bellies, both of you." Her heavily accented English was nonetheless flawless, and she had a soothing voice, Katniss thought. She and the other masseuse both stepped out of the tent, lowering the rear wall of curtains. Three walls of privacy were now afforded to them.

"Allow me," he murmured, stepping towards her. "Hands up." She obeyed, raising her arms, and he slid her tank over her head. His thumbs traced the cups of her bra briefly then freed the front clasp of her bra. His tongue darted out to tease one hardening nipple.

"Peeta!" she squealed. She lowered her voice to a hiss. "They're right outside."

"I know." He chuckled against her breast. "But you can't expect me to behave, knowing you're going to be almost naked just a few feet away from me." He teased her other nipple to a peak, and his hands fumbled with the button on her shorts before he managed to ease the zipper down. She hid her smile when he peeled them down her legs, and he straightened back up, the large bulge in his own shorts tenting the fabric.

"Down, boy," she giggled as he took her face in his hands and kissed her soundly.

The massage was a completely different kind of bliss. She was unable to steal glimpses at Peeta while lying prone, her face cushioned in the pillow ring, but once the masseuse ordered her to turn over onto her back, she met his eyes, and he pursed his lips at her.

"I already miss being inside you," he mouthed, arching his brows at her suggestively. Her own mouth twisted into a reserved smile, and she closed her eyes to avoid the temptation of engaging in lip-reading dirty talk.

At the end of the hour, she was wonderfully calm, her muscles relaxed—aside from her vaginal muscles which still bore the effects of Peeta's impressive girth. He fished some pesos out of his shorts pocket and offered several to each masseuse, shushing Katniss with a firm look. He intertwined their fingers together and suggested a stroll on the beach. She kept her flip-flops off and let them dangle from her fingertips as the powder-fine sand sifted between her toes and warmed the bottom of her feet.

She couldn't say she was surprised when Peeta led her quite a ways down the beach to a secluded cove, pinned her to the smooth stone wall, and captured her lips in a bruising kiss. She responded eagerly, their hands roaming, torsos colliding, and it was only a second before she felt him getting aroused against her belly.

"It took all my willpower not to tell those women to get the fuck out and not take you right there on your massage table." He dragged his tongue down her neck and along her collarbone, kissing the swells of her breasts above the neckline of her tank.

"Yeah, well, mine was eyeing you up. I know she wasn't happy that she got stuck with me."

"Mmm…I would have been glad to put my hands all over you." As if to prove his point, he slipped his palms past the waistband of her shorts and squeezed her ass. "And your hands feel so much better on me."

"Oh?"

Suddenly provoked by his words, she flashed him a teasing smile and undid his belt. He helped her work his shorts down his legs, and then she carefully rid him of his boxer-briefs. His erection sprang free, and she licked her lips, keeping her eyes trained on his awestruck face.

She had only given head twice before, and she had been kind of indifferent to the whole experience both times. But there was something about Peeta that made her want to please him. He had been so generous with his mouth thus far.

She crouched down, wrapping her fist around his stiff cock. He groaned and tangled his hand in her long hair. Gazing up at him, she licked the tip of his cock then ran her tongue along the ridged head, circling it again and again, before taking as much of him in her mouth as possible.

"Oh, fuck, baby…yes, god…yeah."

His hands in her hair helped to set a rhythm, and she cupped his balls, massaging them tenderly as she worked his cock over with her tongue and the gentle suctioning of her mouth. She gagged once or twice, taking him too deep, but Peeta's moans coupled with the motion of his hips compelled her to keep going. She ignored the ache in her legs and the one in her jaw, determined to get him off with just her mouth.

She paused to take a breath and ran her tongue up and down his shaft, tracing a vein that pulsed near the head of his cock. He jerked a little and grunted his approval. She did it again, and then sucked him with renewed vigor.

"Katniss, move," he commanded, his voice raw. She continued to suckle him, and he gripped her hair. "Katniss…sweetheart…I'm gonna…" His words died on his lips as she felt his cock stiffen and he released in her mouth. It was definitely an odd sensation, and the taste was kind of unpleasant, but she figured out how to use her tongue to keep from gagging as she swallowed, until she licked him clean and let him slip from her lips.

Peeta's eyes were closed and his chest heaved. His fingers now moved lazily against her scalp, and she watched his cock deflate. Then she stood up and kissed him. His eyes lifted halfway, and she could see his pupils were still dilated. He managed a grin and tugged her lips to his for another kiss. She felt his hands glide down her back and around to the button of her shorts.

"Your turn," he mumbled against her mouth. She trapped his lower lip with her teeth as he pulled back and sank to the cave floor. Her head tipped back against the wall, and she lost herself in the strokes of Peeta's fingers and tongue, working her in blissful tandem.

---

"So, how old are you?"

He grinned, and as he blinked, the droplets that clung to his eyelashes like jewels plinked into the water. Reaching past her, he took a long sip of his Corona, and then set the plastic cup back down at the pool's edge. He slid his arms around her waist and coaxed her to wrap her legs around his waist. She vined her arms around his neck, and he began to drift through the water, holding her intimately, their faces inches apart.

"Why?"

"I mean…just curious." She angled her neck to the side and her eyes slipped shut as his lips migrated over her wet skin. "You know how old I am."

"Do I?" He raised his head and gave her a playful waggle of his brows.

"Well you know I'm a senior in college…"

"So you're 21 or 22," he reasoned.

"I'll be 22 in May."

"Happy early birthday then." He kissed the tip of her nose, and a strange fluttering took flight behind her ribs. He had turned her insides to jelly more than once since they had met. But thinking about her birthday, two months from now, when Peeta would be a distant memory…it was a different kind of feeling roiling through her. She pushed the thought away as quickly as it had descended on her.

She tried to keep the mood lighthearted. "You're not gonna answer my question? What, are you hiding something? Like…you're 40, and you just have some pact with the Devil where you get to look eternally youthful, and be virile enough to fuck nonstop?" She almost blushed at her last statement.

"I'm 26," he replied, laughing. "My birthday was three weeks ago."

"Well happy belated birthday then." And she kissed the tip of his nose. His smile widened.

"So you'll be graduating in a month or two then…what do you plan to do with yourself?"

And so for the rest of the afternoon, they floated through the water, trading simple questions and answers about their lives. After she explained her plans for the summer and her impending DPT program, she learned that Peeta had graduated with honors from the University of Pennsylvania, with degrees in English and journalism, and he currently worked as an editor for a food magazine. She was equally impressed by his ambition and turned on by his obvious intelligence.

"That sounds glamorous."

He smiled, but she didn't see much genuine happiness behind it. "It's okay. It pays the bills. I had other aspirations, but…" He stroked her hair, and she closed her eyes, fighting the urge to purr like a contented cat. There was something about his fingers in her hair that gave her such a quiet thrill. It was a simple, but familiar gesture, and it seemed to tether her to him.

"What did you really want to do?"

The smile spread, and his eyes sparkled a little, reflecting the sun bouncing off the pool's surface. "What I really wanted to do was write. And technically I'm doing that, I know, but I wanted to be a writer. My own things…a novel, or maybe some young adult stuff."

"Why haven't you been doing that?" she asked. He looked puzzled. She hitched herself a little higher in his arms and shifted her legs around his waist. "Couldn't you be working on your writing in your free time, like after work or on the weekends?"

His fingers moved gently along the nape of her neck. "I don't really have a lot of free time. At least, I didn't, not leading up to…" He looked almost embarrassed as he cleared his throat. "And I put in long hours at the magazine, and…well, when I would get home at night, Cashmere didn't really want me on my laptop all the time. And our weekends were always crammed full of things. Dinners with friends, wine tastings…"

It was the first time he had brought up his ex since the flight down.

"We don't have to talk about her, you know, if it makes you…" she hedged.

He shook his head. "I'm going to have to get used to explaining things to people. A lot. Our guests all know the wedding was off, but the casual acquaintances and all…work associates…I'm not looking forward to rehashing it a hundred times, but it's gonna have to be done."

She cleared her throat and dared to ask him how he had met Cashmere. His eyes grew a little wistful as he reminisced, and she felt guilty, but he admonished her with a firm press of his lips to hers. He guided them over to one of the secluded alcoves and trapped her body against the side of the pool, where he proceeded to give her the shortened version of his history with his ex. Katniss was surprised to learn that he and Cashmere had been together since they were nineteen.

"I'm kind of a long-term relationship guy, I guess," he offered, when she made the comment that seven years was a long time.

His admission caused a lump to rise, unbidden, into her throat. Once again, she found herself shaking off thoughts that she had no right to be thinking.

It was when he told her how he had proposed to Cashmere that a different unwelcome sensation rippled through her. She had suddenly had enough of the conversation, and she silenced him the only way she knew how. She rocked her hips against him, and he tightened his grip on her. His arousal met her next thrust, and his mouth found hers.

They didn't last much longer in the pool.

And she took a little bit of sadistic pride in the way he screamed her name when she sucked him off again.

---

They avoided any kind of serious conversation for the next 48 hours. They talked—a lot actually—but it was usually when their limbs were tangled irrevocably and their bodies were recovering from their orgasms. They shared favorites and dislikes and what was on their bucket lists, among other things. It was disarmingly easy to open up to him, and while she enjoyed bonding with him, she had a foreboding feeling that she'd regret it.

As it was, the two days passed by far too quickly.

When they weren't exploring each other's bodies, they were taking advantage of the luxurious resort. Peeta insisted on making appointments for several additional spa treatments for her, and while she didn't really like being away from him, what with their time so limited, she did enjoy the facial, body wrap, and mani-pedi. He waited for her in the lounge, reading a book, and after she had been considerably pampered, he joined her in one of the couples-only saunas, and they had picked up right where they left off in his shower that morning.

They dined both nights in two of ritzy restaurants on the grounds. She worried that she was a little underdressed, having not packed anything fancy for her time with her friends, just a few cute sundresses, but Peeta showered her with praise and told her how beautiful she was. She ate better than she had recent memory and she drank way too much, though she was cognizant of never allowing herself to get too drunk, wanting to be as conscious as possible to enjoy Peeta's able tongue, hands, and cock. She never saw him drunk again, though he imbibed with a few Coronas by the pool, and shared a bottle of Malbec with her at dinner.

She had checked in with Madge, Johanna, Delly, and Annie on her second morning with him, just to ensure that they knew she was okay, and she had endured nearly five minutes of the third-degree before she could get off the phone and back to Peeta.

She didn't reach out to them again until her last night with him, and it was a brief call to assure them that she'd just get a cab to the airport, and she'd meet them there.

She had felt a little bad blowing them off for the entire duration of their trip, but she felt equally bad that Peeta would be at the resort for three more days, all alone. A sharp pang of jealousy coursed through her. He'd be alone. At the resort. While she had seen mostly couples roaming the grounds, there were definitely a few groups of girls she had spotted; one particularly large one had appeared to be some kind of a bachelorette getaway.

If Peeta looked for someone to slide into bed with him once she left, he'd have volunteers, she had no doubts. A single guy with his looks, and his charm, and his incredible prowess at kissing and touching and fucking…

"Katniss?"

His gentle voice, edged with concern, broke her from her trance. She glanced across the table and gave him a weak smile.

"You looked a million miles away just now. Where'd you go?"

She glanced off to her left, watching gentle laps of the azure sea break into foamy white caps as it reached the shore.

Peeta had surprised her by arranging to have their dinner at a private table near the water's edge. It was lovely and intimate. Candles in square white frames lined either side of the table, and the soft rush of the waves provided the only soundtrack they needed. He had brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles one by one, a pleased expression lighting his handsome face, as she had murmured her approval and her thanks. He had pulled out her chair for her, and kissed her neck before he settled into his own seat.

"I'm here," she said quietly, sipping her water.

He cocked his head at her and gave her a thoughtful look. "What's wrong?"

She forced a smile onto her lips and shook her head. "It's nothing, Peeta. I swear. Let's have a nice dinner and then…" Shit. Her throat suddenly felt like one of those medieval torture devices, where the spiked walls closed in, steadily and ominously. She swallowed.

Peeta scooted his chair around, thought it took some effort to drag it through the sand. He stopped just several feet from her, and he reached into her lap and took her hands in his.

"And then I'm going to take you back to the room, and we're going to have one last incredible night together." He rubbed his thumb over the back of her palm, making slow revolutions, as he hesitated before he continued speaking. "You know, these few days we've spent…I've really enjoyed myself. And I don't just mean the sex," he added hastily.

He took a breath and expelled it slowly. Then he gently cupped his hand around her neck and brought her closer to him. "I meant what I said that first night…when we were waiting for dinner? Do you remember?"

She nodded. Her memories were going to be all she had to go on, and so just like cramming for an exam, she had made notes of everything. And not just the things he'd said, or the incredible way he made her feel, playing her body like a virtuoso, but also the smallest observations about him. Like the tiny dimple in his left cheek that appeared when his smile was at its broadest. Or the fact that he had to sleep with the sliding door open just a crack when they finally went to bed at night.

"What did I say?" he prompted.

"You thanked me." She had to stop to swallow again. "For, uh, making you feel wanted…but you, um, have to know just what an amazing man you are, and how much any woman would want you. I'm, ah, lucky to have gotten to know you. I think we connected, and…" God she was so edgy; it was nearly impossible to get her thoughts across coherently. Her heart was starting to race. "But when I leave tomorrow morning, you won't have any problem finding someone else to finish your week with."

He narrowed his eyes and stared at her. "Is that's what is bothering you…why you're different tonight?" When she averted her gaze, he caught her chin with his finger and forced her to look back directly at him. "We've had mind-blowing sex for four straight days. I think I've fucked you more in this short time than all the times I had slept with Cashmere in the two months before she called off the wedding. When you leave tomorrow, I'm going to miss you like hell. I'm going to catch up on my sleep, and maybe get another massage, and I might get shit-faced drunk one more time and watch bad telenovelas on that enormous flat-screen. Subtitles are pretty amusing when you're smashed."

She managed a wan smile at his attempt at humor. He shook his head and gently brushed his lips over hers. "There will be no one else in my bed for the rest of the week, sweetheart. I don't want anyone else."

Her heart nearly stopped. She could feel her palms starting to sweat, and her stomach twisted into a knot. Hope spread through her like a wildfire, fast threatening to consume anything in its path with its destructive flames.

She had never been in love. But this…what had passed between the two of them since they shared that drink on the plane…this was real. She knew it. This was more than a fling. She was falling in love with Peeta.

He smiled. "I don't regret a minute of our time together. You've helped me in more ways than you know…I guess if I had any regrets, it would be that you and I didn't meet under different circumstances."

She felt all the air leave her lungs. That hope—stupid, fucking, ridiculous hope—that had bloomed in her chest moments ago vanished, and bitter disappointment seeped in, settling in her bones like a chill.

"You're an incredible girl," he whispered. "You're so fucking beautiful, and you're smart, and you're determined, and you're kind and generous…you'll make some man very, very happy." His blue eyes shone with lament. "And I wish…I wish I could be that man for you right now. If things were different…like I said…I mean, you've kept my mind off the shitty things I'm going to go home to in a few days. But that's my life, Katniss. A life that's been turned on its axis, and I'm not sure how to start spinning again. I won't drag you down with me."

Every word was a fresh slash to her soul. By the time he was done, she was going to be nothing but shreds and tatters.

And the worst part was he was right. She had no right to make any claims on him. People don't just fall in love after a couple of days of phenomenal sex. Here, in this secluded paradise, she and Peeta fit. The pieces lined up. It was just her and him; nothing else mattered. Out there, in the real world, the puzzle was far more complex. She was a college kid who had a few more years of school and student debt to look forward to.

Peeta's life, in some ways, had already started, being that he had an established career, even if it wasn't what he truly wanted to be doing. But a big part of that life was Cashmere; he had planned on marrying her. Katniss knew that the man she first met on the plane wouldn't have been so distraught if he hadn't loved his ex deeply. She was naïve to think he could love again so quickly.

He didn't owe her anything. He had delivered on exactly what he had promised.

"You need a change," she said quietly, hoping to steer the conversation away from unspoken declarations of what might have been, away from her own melancholy.

"Pardon?" he asked, setting down his champagne flute.

"A change." She fidgeted with the napkin in her lap. "When my...when my father died, my mother was devastated. Like, so depressed that she didn't even get out of bed…" She took a breath and related the circumstances of her father's heart attack and the subsequent effect that it had on her mother and her sister and her. Peeta listened, still stroking her hand.

"And once my mom realized that we, you know…my sister and me…that we were still here, and we needed her too…she used it as motivation. She took some of the life insurance money, and she finally finished her nursing degree. It didn't change how much she missed my dad, but she tried to make something good from the tragedy…And that's maybe what you should do, Peeta. Maybe Cashmere breaking your heart is a way for you to start over…start your novel. Do something you've always meant to do…"

"Katniss," he murmured. She shivered at the reverent way he said her name, and it took her back to hearing him say it for the first time on the plane. "You always know what to say. Thank you."

The mood lightened for the duration of their meal together. She encouraged him to tell her his ideas for his books, and he talked freely about them. He had a wonderful capacity for storytelling; she was hooked on every word. When she told him so, he seemed coincidentally pleased and humbled. She let him dominate their conversation, keeping mostly silent, unless it was to praise him.

He only ordered one dessert. When the très leches cake arrived, he locked his eyes on hers as he fed her bite after bite. She could see his desire for her slowly creeping into those blue orbs, and by the time she chewed and swallowed the last strawberry, his hands were cradling her jaw and his tongue was slipping past her teeth. She tasted the sweetness of the cake and the cinnamon as their tongues mated, and Peeta threw his napkin to the table, urging her to her feet with their mouths still fused together. He managed to pull out several pesos, and tossed the tip down.

Katniss was sure every eye in the resort was on them as they groped their way through the lobby, to the elevators, towards their room. Peeta seemed reluctant to release her lips for any prolonged period of time, and his hands were rooted possessively on her lower back. Once they were finally inside his suite, he drew back and stared at her, breathing hard, his lust for her evidenced by the bulge in his pants.

"I want you. I want you so fucking bad." His voice was strained. "Please tell me I can have you."

"You already asked me that, on the plane. You've had me… a lot…"

He nodded; it looked as though it took him great effort. "I know…but after our talk at dinner…it doesn't seem fair…"

When she swallowed, a faint throb of pain accompanied it. This man really was too good to be true. She stepped towards him boldly and grabbed his hardness through his pants. "I want you too. I want you to fuck me, Peeta."

A tremulous sigh fell from his lips just before he claimed her mouth. She gasped when he lifted her into his strong arms and carried her to the bed. He spun her around roughly, but his fingers were gentle when he worked her dress's zipper down and let the fabric pool around her ankles.

He let out a tortured groan as her naked body was completely exposed to him, and he curled his palms around her hips from behind. "You have no idea the effect you have on me, do you?" He kissed her shoulder blades. She shuddered, and when his tongue traced the curve of her spine, she threw her head back and keened softly. "You are so lovely."

His mouth seemed to be everywhere. Her body was uncharted territory, and he was determined to conquer every last plain, peak, and valley. His fingers slipped inside her, and his tongue teased her sore nipples. The sound of his digits sliding in and out of her, aided by her slick arousal, was intensely erotic. When she came around his fingers, her orgasm hit her fast and hard, and her legs trembled as she rode out the waves of pleasure. Peeta finally released her breast from his mouth and quickly crouched down, his tongue parting her soaked folds, and she cried out as he started to lap at her swollen clit. She could barely stand; she definitely couldn't think.

It was only when she was lying sated in his arms nearly two hours later, their bodies glued together from the exertion of their efforts, that she regained her senses. As she nestled further into his embrace, she had the fleeting thought that what they had just shared couldn't really be called fucking at all.

---

He did fuck her the next morning.

She had been awakened by Peeta's tongue between her legs and his palms kneading her tits, and she had still been so dazed and delirious from their sex the night before that she wasn't even aware of the orgasm building in her until she was throbbing against his mouth and the tension in her lower body snapped. He had watched her with a wolfish grin, before slithering up her torso and fully rousing her with a sensuous kiss.

It was only a prelude for how he took her in the shower ten minutes later.

Once they had thoroughly washed and explored each other for what she thought was the last time, they dried off. She redressed, but thus far he had only managed to wrap a towel around his narrow waist. She tried not to admire the deliciously cut muscles right above where the towel sat. It was too easy to get turned on by him.

"What time is your flight again?" he murmured, kissing her neck as she finished plaiting her hair into a loose braid.

"Noon."

He exhaled and she met his disappointed eyes in the mirror. "So you'll need to leave here…"

She nodded. "Yeah, I should probably get going soon. God only knows how long it will take to get through security."

"So no time for breakfast, huh?" He skimmed his hands down her waist, tugging her back against him. She relaxed against his chest and relished the feel of his palms splaying over her abdomen, his lips teasing her ear. It struck her odd that the whole scene felt very domestic, showering together, discussing plans for the day, when in a short time they'd be parting ways, never to see each other again. The bitter thought caused her to stiffen. She gave him a timid smile in the mirror and shook out of his embrace. He was quiet as she walked out of the bathroom.

She began jamming her things back into her suitcase, scanning the floor for an errant flip-flop that was missing its mate. Peeta lingered in the doorway, watching her. She kept her eyes on her suitcase because he looked so fucking sexy leaning there like that.

She blinked back a tear. This is why you don't do casual sex, you stupid idiot. Or maybe it was the opposite. Maybe she should be having more one-night stands. Maybe she placed too much importance on attaching feelings to sex. She always let emotions muddy the waters.

"Do you want help?" he asked.

"I'll manage," she replied, yanking on the zipper roughly. She finally got the damn thing closed and set it upright. As she stood, she bumped into Peeta's solid, bare chest. He caught her wrist and walked her over to the bed. He took a seat on the upholstered bench at the foot of it and brought her down into his lap. He traced her jaw with one finger and looked deep into her eyes.

"I've already thanked you for everything. There's a lot more I want to say to you, sweetheart, but that will only make this harder on both of us." She nodded her agreement, and he kissed her softly.

But the tender brush of his lips ignited something in her. She was suddenly ravenous for him, desperate to take one last memory of him with her—on her terms. She swathed her tongue around the circumference of his lips, shifting in his arms when he groaned and she felt him swelling beneath the towel. She pried it undone and it fell open onto the bench.

He watched her as she stood and shimmied her panties down her legs. She kicked them aside before she straddled his waist. She kissed him hard as she sank down on his cock, her moan lost in his mouth as he filled her to the hilt. Their kisses grew more intense the more her hips undulated.

"Katniss," he hissed. "I didn't put on—"

She pressed a finger firmly to his lips. "I know. I just needed to feel you one last time around me…all of you."

"Fuck…" He clutched her hips and met her revolutions with steady thrusts of his own. "Goddamn, Katniss…I mean it…if things were different…"

"They're not," she shot back, with a little more venom behind the two words than necessary. She hoped he didn't notice. "Things are the way they are, Peeta, and we both knew that before we started this. Please…let me have this. No more talking."

And so they didn't talk. They didn't kiss. They didn't touch, other than his hands on her waist and his cock penetrating her repeatedly. They simply stared at each other.

"I'm going to come," he whispered, his voice barely a thread. "Can you…are you…"

She knew what he was asking. She arched her back and tilted her pelvis so his next thrusts caught her clit, stimulating it just enough. She rubbed herself against his shaft as she felt his cock give that faint pulse it always did right before he came. She gazed down at him and forced her eyes to stay open as she shattered, her walls spasming in time with his release. He dropped one hand to lift the skirt of her sundress, careful to keep it away from the mess pooling between them. As they came down from their euphoric high together, he gave her a kiss that she felt all the way down to her toes.

She knew it would be their last.

She was the one to break away first. She cleaned off with his towel, retrieved her panties from the floor, gave him the best smile she could manage, and quietly let herself out of the hotel room. Mercifully, the tears didn't fall until she was secured inside the cab, bound for the airport.

It took longer than she expected to make it through security, and Johanna, Madge, Delly, and Annie were all already at the gate, watching the crowded terminal for her. Delly spied her first, and she leapt from her seat, waving enthusiastically. Katniss sighed and rolled her suitcase behind her, making her way towards her friends. She knew once she got close enough for her friends to see her face, they'd know why she wasn't smiling.

She could see the devious grin lighting Johanna's tanned face as Katniss approached them. "He fucked you right, given the way you're walking. Well done, slut," she applauded.

She couldn't accept Johanna's accolades, nor was she able to voice a bitchy comeback. Katniss licked her lips, and she swore she could still taste Peeta on them. She blinked back fresh tears.

"Oh, shit, Katniss, what's wrong?" Annie asked, her green eyes immediately filling with alarm.

She glanced out the window at the 737 taxiing up to the gate. "I think I'm going to need to get really drunk. Who's with me?"

---

~Present Day~

---

"Him?" Johanna gawks, her eyes flitting from the stage, to Katniss, and back to the stage. "That's your Mexican Fuck Fest? God, well done, Brainless! How the fuck did you ever walk away from that?"

"Johanna!" Delly and Annie both reprimand at the same time.

Katniss is too stunned to glower appropriately at her friend. She can't seem to even to blink, too afraid if she closes her eyes that she'll reopen them and Peeta will have vanished. Her heart feels like it's being squeezed in a vise, and all of her nerve cells awaken in succession as she drinks him in.

His hair is a little longer than it had been when she last saw him, the flaxen locks now brushing his the collar of his tuxedo jacket. She's too far away to properly see the intense blue of his eyes, but she can see his sapphire gaze roaming over the crowd, his mouth curved into that impossibly sexy smile, the one she last saw staring up at her, as she rode him with abandon, right before she walked out of his suite and left for the airport on that fateful last morning. He fills out his tuxedo way too well, and she is powerless to keep from recalling every line on his torso, every dip and every ridge of the defined muscles she knows lie beneath the fancy suit.

Her mouth is now like chalk, drier than a bone. She reaches for her water, gulping down half the glass in one swallow.

She's vaguely aware of Caesar's rapid monologue as he calls out the bids being placed. Before she can think twice, Katniss lunges for her paddle, long neglected just below the mammoth floral centerpiece, and she shoots her arm into the air.

Caesar nods in her direction and points. "I've got $800 to the lovely lady at Table 12. Do I have $900?"

"Katniss, what the fuck!" Johanna grits out. "You don't have—"

Her heart sinks as the bids for Peeta continue to escalate. She hears figure after figure being shouted; paddles wave exuberantly, and Caesar can barely keep up with the flurry of activity. Peeta continues to smile broadly, nonchalantly surveying the crowd, his blue eyes never settling on her. She's positive there's no way he even knows she's out here; no recognition dawns on those chiseled features. His handsome face remains smiling, dazzling the crowd, never changing.

Madge turns and faces Katniss. "That's really him?" she asks in a loud whisper. Katniss nods numbly. The current bid stands at $2900. That's more than twice her rent money. A wave of nausea pitches in her stomach, and she feels utterly helpless.

"Johanna!" Madge calls hoarsely. "$3000, do it, raise her hand."

Katniss feels Johanna's strong grip around her wrist, yanking her arm up into the air. "$3000!" Johanna shouts, waving Katniss's arm like a storm-tossed branch.

"I've got $3000 back to Table 12, the beautiful brunette in the back. Wow, wow, wow! Effie, this is…you were right! Bachelor #8 is in high demand. $3000…do I hear…"

Her stomach crests with a dangerous wave of hope as one second passes, then two. She flashes Madge a feeble smile of gratitude, too tense to manage much more than that. She can't believe that her friend would be so generous, so gracious as to shell out such an outrageous amount of money on her behalf.

But a clear, haughty voice slashes through her hope-addled fog. "$5000," it declares coolly.

Gasps pepper the room and a steady din of disbelieving murmurs follow.

"Five thousand dollars!" Caesar screeches, and Katniss hears Effie's ensuing squeal in reply. "I've got $5000 to the stunning blonde at Table 2. Five thousand going once…"

Katniss closes her eyes.

"Five thousand going twice…"

Her throat tightens and she wills herself not to cry. She opens her eyes and looks right at Madge, whose own face is fraught with sorrow.

"Sold!" The crack of the gavel cleaves Katniss's heart in two. "Five thousand dollars to you, my dear, and I must say that you, Mr. Mellark, you are quite the lucky man. Look at her!" Caesar winks amiably and motions to the lithe blonde who stands beside her chair, waving and basking in the applause.

"Oh, Katniss, I'm sorry," Delly whispers, rubbing her elbow reassuringly. Katniss shakes her head, bewildered and distressed. Peeta is led from the stage, and Effie announces another brief respite so the guests can indulge in the dessert buffet that's been laid out.

"I tried," Madge offers, as she rises from her chair and folds her napkin across her plate. Katniss sighs and smiles at her friend.

"I know you did," she replies, standing on sober legs. "Thank you." She envelops Madge in a hug, and she feels Johanna's palm moving in slow circles over her exposed back.

"I don't think if we had all pooled our funds we could have outbid that skank." Johanna aims a murderous glare in Table 2's direction.

"That's Glimmer L'Eclat." Madge heaves a sigh. "Her father is the CEO of Beauty Base Zero Cosmetics. She probably could have bid a million for him."

Katniss makes a mental note never to buy a single product from that overpriced line of shit. The roller coaster ride that her emotions have endured over the past five minutes is making her dizzy, and while she thinks the imminent threat of losing her dinner has passed, she still needs to get some air and let the reality of the situation percolate: Peeta is in the same building as she is. Does she dare try to find him? What would she even say?

"I'm going to go outside for a bit…I think I just need a minute alone."

Her friends all exchange a glance; no doubt mildly surprised that Katniss is bypassing dessert, when chocolate and cream-filled pastries have long been her preferred way to cope with her troubles. But they nod and each give her another hug. She tugs her strapless dress up and attempts to walk away as gracefully as she can.

Once she's in the lobby, she wraps her arms around herself and starts for the revolving door. Despite the spacious room, she feels like she's being suffocated. Fresh air will help. She needs to find somewhere to sit and regain her composure.

But a firm hand cups her shoulder and ceases her movement. She feels her hair being brushed to the side and the familiar warmth of his lips at the nape of her neck sends her into an emotional tailspin. She closes her eyes on instinct. His intoxicating scent reaches her nostrils a fraction of a second before his breath hits her ear.

"Going somewhere?"

His hand urges her to turn around, and her heart hammers erratically when she comes face to face with Peeta. His hand slides down her arm, curving under the crook of her elbow, and his other hand finds purchase on her hip. There's a possessive edge to the way his fingers curl over her pelvic bone, like they're asserting their right to be there.

"Hi, sweetheart," he whispers, his eyes roaming over her face, then down to her breasts. "God…as if I could have forgotten how lovely you are…I think you are even more gorgeous tonight. I've missed this beautiful face."

"Wh-what are you d-doing?" she stammers, her voice like a frayed wire.

He cocks his head slightly and studies her. "What do you mean?"

"What are you doing here?"

He chuckles softly. "Fulfilling a favor to my mother. And for once, I'm damn glad I didn't have the balls to say no to her. It brought me to you sooner. I guess we call that fate, huh?"

"Sooner?" She blinks, and knits her brows together. His fingertips brush up and down her hip. "And what are you doing, touching me like that? I…we haven't spoken in over a year, Peeta, and…"

"Come with me," he pleads, linking their fingers. His voice is buoyed with such sincerity, such need, that she allows him to usher her out of the hotel and across the lawn to a gazebo that sits at the edge of the golf course. He motions for her to step inside.

Strands of white lights are strung arbitrarily around the perimeter of the gazebo; their intermittent twinkling puts her in the mind of fireflies. She stares up at them, avoiding Peeta's eyes, though she feels them on her.

"Katniss."

She closes her eyes. No one has ever said her name quite the way he says it. It invites a plaintive ache to the surface of her heart.

"Katniss, look at me."

She opens her eyes and lowers them. "What are you doing here, Peeta?" She hears the thin waver in her voice. Standing right in front of him is sweet torture. All these months she's been pining for him, wondering what he was doing, who he was doing…

"I told you, the short answer is doing a favor for my mother. She's friends with the woman who organized this whole charity thing. They tried to get me to do it last year, but it was too soon."

"Too soon," she echoes, nodding numbly. His broken engagement would have been only a few months prior to last year's auction. But the four days she spent with him in Mexico had preceded it.

"The long answer is…" He smiles and starts towards her. She jumps, and his eyes fill with concern. "…I've been dying to touch you every day for the fifteen months we've been apart." He coaxes her closer to him, their bodies separated by only a few inches. "If I hadn't run into you here, you need to know that I had every intention of tracking you down. So please…please don't shy away from me. I need to touch you, sweetheart. It's been too long."

"You can't say these things!" she blurts. "I've spent the last year aching for you, Peeta…dying for your touch…and I can't keep…"

He silences her outburst by crushing his lips to hers. She struggles at first, pushing against his broad chest, but the pressure of his mouth and the fire kindling in her veins are too much. She succumbs to his kiss, greedily accepting his tongue when he swipes it tenderly against the seam of her lips.

"I know that was you bidding on me," he whispers, leaning his forehead against hers, when they part, chests heaving, to catch their breath. "I'm so glad you didn't win me."

She backs away, her eyes widening, and before she can protest, Peeta chuckles and draws her to him, caressing her cheek.

"I didn't plan come here tonight to find someone new. I was honoring a favor, that's it. And I'll honor that winning bid with a single date, nothing else. But you, Katniss, you're going to have me for a lot longer than one date, if I have anything to say about it."

"What!" Her pulse jumps and her heart starts beating faster in response. She's glad he's holding on to her, because her entire body goes numb.

"I've made changes. Changes that are all because of you." She doesn't miss the fact that his hands never stop touching her while he tells her about what's transpired in the past year. How he left his job. How he reached out to one of his older brothers and proposed the idea of opening a café. How he started three different books, even if he's not sure he'll ever see any of them through to the end.

"And I made peace with Cashmere," he confesses, bringing her hands to his mouth. He kisses the gap below where her thumbs overlap. "We had a long talk, about three months after I got back from Mexico. After you walked away from me. And she made me realize that she did me a favor, the biggest favor. I loved her. Past tense. But you," he pauses, covering her hands with his, his eyes shining, "You, Katniss…you are my future."

She chokes back a sob, and he laughs, dropping their hands so he can enfold her in a hug. She clings to him, reveling in his warmth, his hands holding her tight against him.

"I checked for you. So many times. I looked you up on Facebook…probably once a month. I never found you. I stalked your magazine's webpage. I read every article you posted…I wondered why I hadn't seen any recently."

"I needed this year. Trust me, there were so many times that I wanted to look you up. Once, right after Rye and I signed the lease for the café, I was a few blocks from Temple…and I sincerely thought about going into the admissions office and bribing them to give me your address." He smiles. "But I resisted. I wasn't ready. I needed to prove to myself that I could pick myself back up, and god, I just hoped that when I was ready that you would have me…Will you have me, Katniss?"

Her heart feels like it might burst. She always thought that was a cliché, but now she knows just how it feels to be that happy. She bites down on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling violently. "I haven't stopped wanting you…not for one moment."

"I haven't been with anyone else," he whispers. "I think I knew from the moment you stopped next to seat 7C that I was a goner. There will never be anyone else for me."

"No meaningless sex in your future, huh," she teases.

"Never. There will never anything meaningless with you." He slants his mouth over hers, their lips moving effortlessly. They kiss, and kiss, and kiss. It's unhurried, but filled with restrained passion.

"But there's going to be sex, right?" she murmurs, sucking on his lower lip.

"Sweetheart, as soon as you can get out of here, I'm going to start making up for that entire year."

"Why wait?" She tugs on his lip with her teeth, leading him to the far side of the gazebo. She nods at him to lift her up onto the ledge and he acquiesces. Using one hand to keep her balance, she hitches up her gown with the other. He bends down and captures her lips, slipping her tongue past her teeth. She welcomes him eagerly, tangling her tongue with his. His palms start on her knees, skimming up her upper thighs, until he reaches her thong. His finger traces her pussy through the soft fabric, by now damp with her arousal.

"Oh, fuck, I missed this," he gasps, shoving the scrap of material to the side. She jerks when his fingers swirl through her arousal. "God, baby, you're so wet."

"I've missed you," she counters, groping for his belt. She unclasps it and gets his zipper down, moaning her approval when her fingers encircle his thick shaft. "God, Peeta…I've missed you."

"I need to be inside you…"

"I want you inside me…"

"I don't have anything with me," he admits. "I had no intentions of having sex…I haven't carried a condom since before you."

She grabs his lapel and pulls him closer again. "You won't need one ever again…Fuck me, please. I need to feel you." She nips at his jaw. He plants a hand beside hers on the ledge, securing her in place. With a soft grunt, he plunges into her, and she hears a noise that is half sigh, half cry escape her lips. It has been awhile, so she feels stretched, a little uncomfortably at first, but Peeta stills and lets her get acclimated to his girth.

"Mmm…I love those little sounds you make…" He kisses her slowly, and starts rocking his hips into her. "They're different, you know…the ones you make when I first enter you…they're not the same as the ones you make when I really start moving inside you…like this." He pulls nearly all the way out of her and drives his cock in deeper. She keens and he grins. "Yeah, just like that." He withdraws and slams back into her, setting a brutal pace, but she knows there will be time for slow and sweet later. They both need this.

"Oh…god…Peeta," she rasps. Each rough thrust nudges her closer and closer to her climax, which she knows is not far off, not with how desperately she wants him and how long it's been since he's fucked her.

Peeta mumbles something about not being able to hold on, and he buries his face in the crook of her neck as his fingers seek her clit. His fingers have only just lighted over the swollen bundle of nerves when he stiffens and he releases inside her. He rubs her clit furiously. Her breathing catches, and the exquisite torture his cock had been building in her becomes too much. She seizes his shoulder with her free hand, clutching him as she comes, panting his name.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs against her neck. "That was too fucking good…I'm sorry it was fast."

She lets her head slump back, practically weightless from her orgasm. When she exhales and meets his eyes, gazing at her adoringly, she smiles lazily and shrugs. "I love all the ways you fuck me. Don't you ever apologize to me for any of them."

He laughs and grabs the handkerchief out of the breast pocket of his tuxedo. He gently swabs it between her legs, swipes at his own flaccid cock, and jams it into his pants pocket. She crooks a brow at him. He gives her a sheepish smile.

"No one will notice. I'm pretty much done tonight."

She hops down off the ledge, smoothes her gown back into place, and she burrows into his arms. "You'd better not be done…we have way more catching up to do."

He tips her chin up and kisses her sweetly. "I meant with the auction. There's probably some formality I need to go deal with…I'm sure it's over by now, yeah?"

There were twelve bachelors, if she remembered correctly, so four more men were left after Peeta. She doesn't know how long they've been out here, but she's sure it's only a matter of time before one of her friends comes looking for her.

"Yes," she agrees begrudgingly, "we'd better get back inside."

He intertwines their fingers and she leans into his side, looping her arm around his biceps. They walk slowly back towards the hotel, but just as they reach the entrance Johanna bursts through the revolving door. She skids to a stop and gapes at the two of them, her eyes darting between them.

"Katniss…hey…we were worried about you," Johanna begins, the sly look in her eye telling Katniss that she's holding her tongue for Peeta's benefit.

"I'm good, Jo, thanks. Better than good."

Peeta cups her cheek and gives her a lingering kiss. "I'm going to go get things taken care of. Don't you dare leave here without me." He kisses her one last time, gives Johanna a polite nod of his head, and he disappears inside.

As soon as he's gone, Johanna turns and grabs Katniss, hauling her in for an uncharacteristic embrace. Johanna has never been the touchy-feely, sentimental type. Katniss hugs her friend fiercely.

"Well played, ho. Looks like you won in the end, yeah?"

Katniss feels her stomach flutter. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

---

Three Weeks Later~

---

She hears the key turning in the lock a few minutes before eleven. She tucks her feet under her on his couch and tries to look casual, like she hasn't been staring at the doorknob for the better part of the last hour.

He opens the door, and he chuckles softly when he sees her sitting there. "Thought I might find you here."

She gives him a look of mock indignance. "You thought! What about this text I got not too long ago." She grabs her iPhone off his coffee table and clears her throat, preparing to read his message in her sexiest voice. " 'Use your key. I need you naked and waiting for me.'"

He sheds his suit jacket and loosens his tie as his eyes sweep over her, a dangerous spark gleaming in his blue eyes. "Two out of three ain't bad, I guess." Then his eyes cut to the coffee table and his face breaks into a smile. "You are too fucking good to me."

"I'm sure your dinner with that Glitter chick was much classier than pizza and beer, but the portions at that swanky restaurant suck, and I figured you might be hungry."

"Glimmer." He laughs. "Her name was Glimmer."

"And I know they don't serve popcorn and Junior Mints at the symphony…"

He shakes his head at her and un-tucks his stiff dress shirt from his pants. "Katniss, I'd rather eat pizza and beer and watch movies with you, over overpriced seafood and the symphony any day." His fingers work the buttons through the holes, until he can shrug it off his shoulders. She licks her lips and greedily eyes his muscled chest and sculpted abs.

"See, this is why I waited to obey the second part of your text." She rises from the couch and saunters towards him, the silky material of her robe brushing her thighs as she walks. "I figured we could just get naked together…unless you're hungry."

"I'm hungry," he agrees, tangling his fingers in the knot of her robe. He growls impatiently when he finds it double-knotted. "I've been famished for you all night."

"I hope you made it clear to Sparkle that you had a girlfriend…" She deftly whips his belt out from the loops, once she's unbuckled it.

He snorts softly. "Your jealousy is actually adorable, sweetheart. But yes, I told her up front that while I was flattered she spent so generously, just for an evening with me, I was completely unavailable, and my beautiful girlfriend would be waiting for me when I got home."

"Hmm…someone was confident." She coyly toys with his zipper, dragging it down slowly, before he assists her in stepping out of his pants. Neither one of them says what they're both thinking: that she's spent virtually every night in his apartment since the night of the auction. The odds that she'd have wound up there tonight, with or without his texted invitation, were all but certain.

As it was in Mexico, they're just so at ease with each other. Given how intense the start of their very unconventional courtship was, it seems only fitting that they've fallen into pseudo-domestic bliss so soon. Just yesterday, he had given her a key to his place and told her to feel free to let herself in any time, especially if she needs to crash between classes or clinic work.

Peeta finally gets her knot undone, and he smirks triumphantly when he parts her robe. She gives a subtle lift of her shoulders, and it falls to the floor. Her nipples tighten and a chill runs through her as she stands fully nude before him.

"Fuck me, you're perfect. C'mere."

She holds up her hand and runs her tongue across her lower lip. "Not yet. You need to finish getting naked."

He pouts at her, and she has to laugh, because if he finds jealous Katniss adorable, she finds pouty Peeta equally cute. As he reaches for the waistband of his boxer-briefs, her eyes wander to the outline of his cock, and she can see that he is already semi-erect.

"Oh, wait…I forgot. I have a present for you."

She makes a face at him. "You gave me a present yesterday…the key, the one I used to get in here tonight?"

"That was a necessity. This is complete indulgence." She unabashedly watches his ass, hugged by the tight cotton-spandex of his underwear, as he fishes something out of the inner breast pocket of his jacket. He walks back to her and hands her the envelope. She turns it over in her hands, excitement coursing through her. "Thank you for letting me go out with another woman tonight."

She snickers. "Like I had a choice."

"You trusted me, Katniss. Obligation or not, you can't know how important that is to me. Having trust…" he trails off and briefly averts his eyes, looking down at his hands. "Go on."

She pulls out a thin glossy brochure from the envelope. She gives him a puzzled glance, and he nods to the pamphlet, indicating she should look closer.

"It's not a posh all-inclusive on the beach, but I thought it would be a nice little getaway next weekend. It'll have been a month that we've been dating…so I thought we could celebrate."

She stares down at the bed-and-breakfast brochure, her heart swelling as she studies the photos of the picturesque inn and the bucolic setting. "It's perfect, Peeta," she whispers, throwing her arms around his neck, pressing her naked body against his nearly naked one.

He hugs her strongly, carding his fingers through her hair. She whimpers softly when he starts massaging her scalp.

"Mmm…there's one of those little noises I like…'the playing with your hair' one."

She nuzzles his neck and bucks her hips against the bulge in his briefs. "You'll get to hear a lot more of my noises, if you'll just get naked and fuck me already."

He reaches between them, works his underwear down his legs, and nudges it aside with his foot. He wedges one leg between hers and they stumble over to the couch. "Have I told you today how much I want you?" he asks, stretching his body out along hers. She arches up, pressing her breasts flat against his chest.

"You might have," she whispers, suckling on his pulse point.

"Hmm…well have I told you today how much I love you?"

She freezes, her mouth still suctioned over his skin. She drops her head back down and gazes up at at him, too stunned to speak. He smiles, brushing his fingers along her forehead, smoothing her hair out of the way.

"Because I do…I love you, Katniss…"

She sighs, her face stretching into a giddy smile. "I love you too, Peeta. So much." He presses her down into the couch cushions, kissing her passionately. "And you're about to hear some new noises, just so you know…"

---

~Epilogue~

10 years later

---

"You hold tight to Buttercup, and I'll hold tight to you, okay?"

She nods, her blue eyes wide, and clutches her raggedy stuffed cat closer to her chest. Peeta leans down and scoops her into his arms, effortlessly.

"Now you—." He turns his attention to Katniss. "You give me that bag."

"Peeta, no, I can manage. Everything else is checked. I'm not carrying anything."

"Bull—" He catches himself and stops, cutting his eyes apologetically to their daughter in his arms. "You're carrying the most precious cargo of all." He curves his palm over Katniss's slightly bulging belly. "Now stop arguing with me and give me that bag."

She sighs and helps him hitch the carry-on bag onto his free shoulder. Then she reaches up and smoothes their daughter's dark curls back from her face.

"You excited for your first plane ride?

The big blue eyes, so like Peeta's, shine as she nods. Katniss laughs and follows him down the jetway, smiling as she watches her little girl and her husband. The spindly little arms wound around Peeta's neck have lost all that residual baby chubbiness, now that she's a big girl of almost five. He talks to her, his voice animated, and Katniss hears him explaining all the things that are going to happen when the plane takes off.

"…And if your ears start to hurt, you just open your mouth and yawn a few times."

"What if I'm not tired?"

Peeta chuckles. "You don't have to be tired to yawn. I'll show you." He opens his mouth wide and a second later his eyes are squinching shut and he yawns exaggeratedly.

The flight attendant standing at the door welcomes them aboard, and she makes a big fuss over Buttercup the cat. Katniss smiles as their daughter's eyes light up and she starts babbling about how this is Buttercup's first plane ride too, and how she's had Buttercup her whole life, and how it was a present from her auntie Prim, who lives in California, and that's where she's going, and she's going to see Disneyland…

"Hey princess, did Daddy ever tell you that he and Mommy met on a plane?" Peeta interjects, exchanging an amused glance with Katniss. She shakes her head at him. She knows the flight attendant would have continued to humor their little girl, but her chattiness does need to have limits sometimes.

"Really?" she squeals.

Peeta nods. "Yep. Right over there." He uses his elbow to gesture to the seventh row of seats.

"Right there?"

"Well, not right there," Katniss corrects. "It was a different plane, honey."

"I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen…until you were born, of course." He wiggles his eyebrows at Katniss and she rolls her eyes at him playfully.

"Mommy is the prettiest," their daughter concurs, her expression serious.

"Yes, she is." He cranes his neck over his shoulder and presses a kiss to Katniss's cheek. "And here we are, 12A, B, and C."

He holds her in his lap as he lets her peer out the window, and he shows her how the little window shade lowers. She pouts when Peeta insists that she has to sit between him and Katniss. They both get her settled in the middle seat, fastening and adjusting the seat belt, and Katniss helps her secure the oversized headphones on her ears so that she can watch her shows on the iPad.

Peeta leans over the little head, now thoroughly preoccupied, and he signals Katniss to come closer. She shifts in her seat and he kisses her, resting their foreheads against each other's.

"I think this is the first flight we're taking together since that very first one where I'm not punching your mile-high membership card, my love."

"Peeta!" she blushes, stealing a quick glimpse at their daughter. They both pause for a moment, and Katniss can hear the soft, melodic voice singing along to the show on the iPad.

"Like mother, like daughter." Peeta smiles. He looks thoughtful for a moment. "You know it's technically his first plane ride too."

Katniss rubs her belly gently. "You're so sure this one's a boy, aren't you?" She's just over three months along, and while they might be able to find out the gender at her next appointment, she and Peeta both agreed that like last time, they want to be surprised again.

"That I am. And I was right last time, was I not?" He tips her chin towards him for another kiss. She strokes his cheek tenderly, gazing into his eyes. She never tires of looking at this beautiful man—her husband, the father of her children. He only gets better with age.

When the flight attendant begins the safety demonstration and preparations are made for takeoff, she settles back in her seat, hands on her belly, marveling in how one chance encounter ten years ago could lead to all of this.

~Fin~

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