A note pressed into his palm.
Mermaid tail in a sweep of purple ink, teasing promise of coconut bras and shimmering scales looped in her girlish handwriting. Laptop left open, books strewn across his desk, and a cup of coffee left untouched in the wake of his speedy exit. The scrap of paper is softened by the heat of his palm when he crumples it into his pocket lest someone should find it and discover what him and Cassie get up to in their downtime.
The speed limit is nothing more than a suggestion when Jacob Stone wants to get home. Another note is taped to his front door, no purple, this time. Plain black ink but the message is no less enticing, encouraging him to follow the trail, and find the treasure.
His house is quiet, unoccupied, or so it would seem but the notes suggest otherwise. The deadbolt clicks eerily in the stillness.
It starts with her shoes.
Combat boots in shiny, black leather, soft with wear and undone laces, sitting by his cowboy boots near the door. Her socks, the soft ones with the little lace frills, drape over top, white contrasting with black.
A few paces in finds his foot in a puddle of fuchsia silk. Her skirt, probably. A clear recollection of the way it brushed against her thighs, so soft, almost feather-like, flitting across her skin, has him itching to find her.
His living room is where he finds the most clothing.
Her soft blouse draped over the back of his couch, striking mint against chocolate leather, cute vintage telephone brooch still pinned to the Peter Pan collar. There's a ball of crumpled pale yellow wool on the cushion, the sweater she'd buttoned over her top to ward off the chill of the Library.
Lordy.
Wherever she is, she's not wearing many clothes. The thought of her half naked in his house is enough to make his pulse leap. Winding through the maze of furniture and books, he finds yet another note.
Getting closer, sailor.
This note flutters to the floor. Sailor. Oh, dear God. He so hoped this was going where he thought it was. In the hallway, strung along the dark cherry wood floor, is a length of filmy, sheer material. Very distinctive. Tights. Bare legs. Long, lean calves, dancer's legs, and creamy thighs.
His jeans tighten, blood leaving his brain.
The heavy thump of his boots echo in discordant harmony with his heart. He's fairly certain if it beats any harder, it just may crack a rib. A few steps and her panties are discarded haphazardly. A scrap of lace.
Tighter jeans, faster pulse.
By the time he reaches his bedroom door, he's not sure he's prepared for what waits behind it. Her bra, lace and satin, hangs off of the doorknob, a most becoming shade of blue. He opens the door and his eyes widen considerably at the sight of her.
Across the width of his bed, draped like some sort of siren singing a seaman to his lethal fate, Cassandra Cillian is waiting in a slinky silk robe, batting long, sultry lashes at him.
"About time, Sailor." an edge of danger in her dark purr, rasping and hot. "I thought you'd never get here."
"What is all this, darlin'?" Jacob pulls the notes from his pockets. "What are you hidin'?"
Cassie simpers, loosening the strap around her waist to let the robe fall off of one shoulder to reveal a thin strap, soft white against pale skin. While he ponders what that strap could be attached to, she tugs the clips from her hair and lets it fall around her shoulders in loose, deep waves.
"I think," still purring in that dark rasp, she adjusts her robe and climbs off of the bed. "You liked my mermaid costume from that clipping at the carnival."
Well, he didn't exactly complain about it. After all, who was he to complain about a beautiful woman in nothing but a bikini top and mermaid tail that so beautifully hugged every curve? And, yes, afterwards a few of his wet dreams had involved creative use of said mermaid tail but she needn't know that.
"I'm still a guy, Cass." Jake admonishes, hoarse voice scraping from his throat like wet gravel.
"Well, be a good boy, and take those boots off." Cassie points to the worn brown boots on his feet. "Can't have you weighed down by those things, can we?"
"S'pose not." he offers a weak smile, toeing one boot off and then the other before nudging them out of the way.
"Socks, too."
Shit.
That may require more coordination than he actually has at the moment. And, the idea of bending over in his tight jeans isn't all that thrilling, to be honest. "Uh, Cassie, I can't really bend over."
"Oh." Cassie's eyes darken at his implication but her smile is guileless and sweet. "Well, why don't you get on the bed and I'll help you get out of those clothes?"
"When does this," he snatches at the tie around her waist. "come off?"
"All in due time, Jacob."
Jake's a little eager to get this show on the road but willing to indulge her. His body takes up the full width of his bed, knees bent over the edge. He's slowly regaining control of his body when he feels her hands taking his socks off and trailing ever so slowly up his legs.
"You have strong legs, Jacob." Cassie's voice is practically a permanent purr at this point. All soft and sexy. She slips the button through the hole, pulls the zipper down, and in one fell swoop, his jeans are pooled around his ankles, leaving him in his shirt and underwear. She pinches part of his shirt and issues a sharp command. "Up."
Jake sits up without hesitation, and is immediately blessed with a lap full of scantily clad Cassie, straddling his hips and settling her butt on his thighs. While her fingers busy themselves with the buttons of his shirt, her mouth sets to work on his neck. When she finds his pulse, her teeth sink down, and the reaction is instant. His pulse speeds up and a growl tears from his throat, feral and high. She undoes the last button and pushes the gray fabric off of his muscular shoulders.
"I think you're overdressed, sweetheart." he tugs on the hem of her barely-there robe. "What are you hidin'?"
It's a little hard to focus when his hand is sliding up and down her thigh, fingertips grazing over sensitive skin, and his other hand is tracing the shape of her collarbone. It isn't simple curiosity to see what feels good for her - he is well aware of the territory he's in, he thrives in it, and he's using it to his advantage. His very unfair advantage.
"You don't play fair." but, her pout is fake. Even he knows that. "You shouldn't do that."
(Life isn't fair)
"La vie n'est pas juste, Cassie." Jake laughs, tilting his head down to kiss her neck.
Oh.
Damn.
His French is like velvet rolling off of his tongue, accents mixing pleasantly, and that in tandem with his mouth on her neck, dragging kisses and scraping his teeth, is enough to draw a moan from her.
"Not fair." Cassie hisses, shoving at him until she's able to escape his touch and stand up. "Ready?"
"Been ready, darlin'."
She, of course, isn't quite ready to end the torture and pretends to fumble with the knot for a few seconds before finally letting it dissolve in her hands. The silky robe slides to the floor revealing the sexiest mermaid he's ever laid eyes on.
Her panties are some sort of shiny material, shimmering shades of pink and yellow, scales marked by dark scalloped lines. Definitely not the full tail she had been nearly broke her feet in, for the carnival clipping. And, damn, does he appreciate it, even if he sort of can't wait to rip them off.
But, there's more.
That tease of pale string, earlier, was one of the straps from her top. Her barely there top that is doing some delicious things to him. Things that make him eager to shed his underwear. The scallop shell cups, in some sort of rosy champagne hue, aren't elaborately decorated like the one before. Rather, these are trimmed with soft cream lace and little iridescent pearls. The straps are rope-like and a line of beads is all that holds the cups together in the front.
"Damn!" Jake breathes, eyes glazing over. "Where did you…?"
"Online."
Thank the Internet gods.
She gives a flirty little twirl, offering a glimpse of her pert little ass being hugged by those panties. "C'mere." he motions her over, reaching for her hips as soon as she's close enough. She sinks down onto his lap and sighs at the brief friction. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"No." Cassie giggles.
"You sure about that?" Jake's hand is moving up her back to where the top is tied. A deft tug and her breasts are free from the confines of the shell cup. "You sure," his hand moves up a little higher to undo the other one around her neck. "it's not just a ploy to get this movin' a little faster?"
"Moving, yes. Kill you, no." the top falls between them, and his mouth covers a nipple. "Ooh!"
Hips sink down until he is where she wants him. Pressure and friction drawing a groan from both of them. Good. God. It feels so good and he's not even inside her, yet. A few more minutes of foreplay and he's fumbling for the foil packets inside his bedside drawer. It's a little hard because while he's doing so, Cassie busies herself with his neck, kissing and biting and licking until he's sufficiently marked.
The next few seconds happen in a blur of underwear, a condom, and Cassie. Foil flutters. Hands fumble. Then, she's in his lap and she's sinking down, slowly, body angled back, and hands on his knees while her own bracket his hips on the bed.
"Jesus, Cass!" Jacob almost mewls, resisting the urge to snap his hips up and end the torture.
Cassie's only response is a throaty moan, hips sinking a little more, drawing him in further. Damn. She feels like perfection; soaked velvety heat, clenching muscles, and all of her cute little noises. The sighs and gasps and moans.
He wraps his arms around her to keep her steady as she moves, lifting up, and sinking down again. It's slower than he's used to - most of his previous sexual encounters having been of the fast and dirty variety. But, with Cassie, sex is different.
It has to be.
Too much, too fast and her synesthesia could take over. That's not to say that involving her synesthesia would necessarily be an unpleasant experience. It has the potential to heighten the sensation for her, but they just aren't ready to find out if it would do that, or if it would just make it too overwhelming and painful.
It's as easy as breathing, up and down, slowly at first, then a little faster as the pressure builds before it's slowed down, again, to prolong the pleasure.
"Jake." it's a soft whimper, hips rolling, grinding hard circles. "Oh God."
"Damn, Cassie." Jake breathes, nuzzling her breast, before he's taking a nipple into his mouth.
The edges of her vision blur with a rainbow of color; her synesthesia creeping in. It'll be damn near impossible to focus in a minute. She clutches his shoulders, moving faster, harder, desperation chasing relief. It isn't long before she's unraveling in his arms, trembling and gasping his name.
He's quick to follow, tension releasing, and every bone in his body seeming to liquefy. Still quivering with the aftershocks, Jake stretches back across the width of his bed and Cassie crumples on top of him, resting her head on his chest. It's only when they've both managed to recover somewhat, that she lifts her head, looking down at him with heavy eyes. "So, mermaid?"
"Darlin'," Jake reachs up to brush her messy curls away from her face. "Ariel's got nothin' on you."
Cassie just giggles.