Peeta pulled up to the small dance studio where Delly was finishing up her yoga class. Normally she got a ride from some of her girlfriends at work, but since his conference call ended early, he thought it'd be nice to surprise her. She raved about the class and he had to admit that her body had greatly improved since she started taking the exercise more seriously.
He wasn't sure what to expect from the place. There were three large windows lining the street, but each was covered by a long, heavy curtain that prevented bystanders from looking in. The name, District Twelve Dance Studio, was painted across the windows and was the only way Peeta knew he was actually in the right place. He pulled into the parking lot in back that was shared with the laundromat, and slipped in.
The receptionist, a petite pale girl with unruly red curls, quirked an eyebrow at him when he passed by but didn't say anything. When he asked where the yoga class was, she pointed a bored finger across the hall and went back to reading some fashion magazine. Peeta watched through the glass door at the 20 or so women stretching and grimacing through the different poses.
He presumed the instructor must have been the woman right in the middle, as she looked the most graceful and fluid of anyone. He couldn't help but notice the way her black yoga pants clung to her legs, stretching around her hips and showing off her ass. Like most guys, Peeta loved women in yoga pants, but there was definitely a difference between women who wore them as pants and those who actually did yoga in them. He could easily make out her well-defined thighs and with every switch of position, they were just as much a part of her body as her own skin, as if they were painted onto her.
As she slowly switched to a new position, he got a chance to see the rest of her body. Her abs were sculpted into a still-feminine four-pack. The dark green sports bra she wore gave him access to her muscular arms and olive skin. Her raven hair was neatly tied back in a braid which, in her current pose, fell across her face. Using only one hand to balance herself, she brushed the braid back with the other and he caught site of the most entrancing part of her, her smoky grey eyes. Like clouds rolling in before a storm, Peeta had never seen eyes that captivated him so quickly and fiercely.
He could feel his stomach twist along with her body, his mouth suddenly dry. He couldn't tear his eyes off of her; anywhere she went, so did his gaze. He watched a bead of sweat drip from her face and trail down between her breasts. He licked his lips and felt a familiar heat course through him as he tried to imagine what she would taste like if he could follow that bead of sweat with his tongue. She looked so natural, not like a woman who used overly fragrant lotions and perfumes. And while there was no denying her physique, he didn't peg her for a floral girl.
Not like Delly.
Delly. Shit.
Delly was on the mat right beside the woman Peeta had been lusting after, and while she didn't possess her instructor's easy fluidity betweens moves, she seemed to be holding her own. He rarely got to see his girlfriend in such tight, or revealing, clothes. She had been raised in a conservative home, with a mother who seemed to pound the idea of being "a classy lady" into her daughter's head at all times. Delly even wore a modest bathing suit when they went to the beach, even though Peeta always told her how fantastic and sexy she looked.
Peeta had been head over heels crazy about Delly since they met in college, and they were, on paper, the perfect couple. Both outgoing and charming, everyone just assumed they'd get married. Five years together and Delly still didn't have a ring, nor Peeta the intent to get one. They were happy the way they were, living together without the stress of marriage. He had never seriously considered any other option: it was always Delly and he assumed it would always be Delly.
But there was something about this woman - this yoga instructor who didn't have any of the physical appeal that Delly held, the physical features Peeta often was attracted to. She awakened feelings in Peeta that had been lying dormant for years. Despite how he felt about Delly, this new woman made him feel like a teenager again, full of hormones and salacious thoughts about what was under those yoga pants.
"Peet!" Delly's voice called to him, shaking him from his revery. He looked up and saw that the door to the room was open and women were filling out. He slipped in and walked over to where Delly was rolling up her yoga mat. She leaned up to kiss him. "What are you doing here?"
He tried not to focus on the instructor, who was also rolling her mat with her ass right in his eyeline. "I, uh, I got out of my conference call early so I thought I'd come pick you up. You know, see where you spend all your time."
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You are such a boy. You just wanted to see girls in tight pants."
"What?" He sputtered, snapping his head back to her. "N-n-no. I promise."
Delly kissed his cheek. "It's okay, baby. I was only half kidding. But, if you'd like, you can watch this girl in tight pants while I put my mat in my locker."
He smiled and gave Delly a playful swat as she sauntered away. He failed to notice the smirk from the instructor, who had been watching them over her shoulder. He turned his head, taking in the rest of the room. A large mirror across the wall that faced the windows. Ballet barres across the mirror and adjacent wall. A series of lockers and wooden crates that held shoes, water bottles, and mats from the class members.
"Peeta," Delly was back at his side, touching his elbow gently, "this is my instructor, Katniss. Katniss, this is Peeta."
The jerk in his body was immediate and, as far as he was concerned, obvious. His neck flamed up when he took her hand in his own to shake it. "Um, hi. Nice ass - uh, class. Nice class. It looked, um…bendy."
Katniss raised her eyebrows at him. "Well it is designed to increase flexibility. Delly here has made some amazing progress since she started."
Delly grinned. "Oh, please. I wouldn't be half as good as I am without you pushing me, Kat. Peeta appreciates it, too," she added with a wink, which just added to Peeta's fluster.
"It's been known to do that," Katniss answered with a nod. "In fact, it may doyou some good to get a little more…bendy…Peeta. I'm sure Delly would like it just as much."
Peeta tried to imagine himself in a room full of women in skin-tight pants bending over all around him. It was a 16-year-old's wet dream, and even at almost 30, Peeta had to admit it was tempting. Especially if Katniss would be teaching the class. He could be behind her, giving him full access to her …
"Or if you're nervous, I do offer private lessons almost every morning," Katniss offered, misinterpreting his silent fantasizing for nervousness. "Sometimes that helps newcomers feel more relaxed."
A private session with her? Just the two of them? Stretching. Bending. Just them. He felt his cock twitch at the thought. He coughed. "Um, yeah, I'll think about." He pulled slightly on Delly's arm. "It, uh, it was nice to meet you, Katniss."
The next morning, Peeta dressed in his typical gym attire and drove downtown for a quick workout before heading into the office for another long day. His brain must have been elsewhere because rather than his normal drive, he ended up right in front of District Twelve Dance Studio. The curtains were open and Peeta could easily see inside. Katniss said she did private lessons in the morning, but from the looks of it, it was only her inside. She had headphones on and was stretching out along one of the barres. He parked his car along the front of the studio, hoisted his gym bag over his shoulder, and impulsively decided to take Katniss up on her offer.
The red-headed receptionist was missing from her post, so Peeta pushed into the yoga room he picked Delly up from the day before. He froze in the doorway, this time, entranced not by Katniss' long, lean body, but by her hypnotizing voice. She was singing along with a slower version of "All Shook Up," which, combined with her deep leg stretches, was easily the most erotic thing he had ever experienced. He watched her roll her head back and forth and stretch completely over to the floor, all without losing the perfect tone and quality of her voice.
"I'm in love, I'm all shook up. Mm mm oh yeah yeah!." She turned at that moment and smiled, pulling out the earbuds. "Hi. Peeta, right? Here to take me up on my offer, I see."
He licked his lips as she walked over toward him. He didn't hide the way his eyes hovered on her hips, their gentle sway as she moved. "Delly raves so much about the class, I figured I had to give it a shot." Where did that come from? he wondered. He was a bumbling mess the day before and all of a sudden his confidence came out in full force. Maybe it was the song, or the emptiness of the room. Or the fact that your girlfriend isn't around and you're alone with the hottest woman you've ever seen.
Katniss grinned. "Well by all means, come on in. I was just going to do some Tai Chi this morning, but I'm always down for new students." She led him to the wooden crates and instructed him to take off his sneakers and leave his bag over there. "Here's your mat. It'll help your knees." She rolled out her mat and indicated that he was to roll his out next to hers. "We'll start out easy, okay?"
She led him through a series of deep breathing exercises that were meant to center him and prepare his body for what they were about to do. The first pose was easy enough to figure out. Sukhasana, she had called it, and while he struggled to stay completely still, he was proud of himself for being able to at least get one pose.
"Now, we'll move to Adho Mukha Svanasana," she announced quietly after a few poses. "You probably have seen this one but it requires a bit more muscle strength than you may imagine."
He stayed on his mat and watched as Katniss pushed herself up from the prone position they were just in, up onto her hands and feet, her arms and legs straight and her back angled up. The urge to get up and slide his hands up her legs to cup her ass was strong. He wondered if she could take him in that position, if his cock would thrust into her with the right angle to make her come. She was short enough that she'd be the perfect partner for him for that position. His chest pounded and he felt a light sweat build over his forehead.
"Your turn," she said, looking over at him with a sly smile.
He took a deep breath and attempted to push himself up the way he saw her do. It was more difficult than he imagined and he felt his shoulders begin to shake slightly. It didn't help that Katniss walked her feet up to her hands, nearly bending herself in half, and rose to her feet. She came up behind him and gently held his hips. His legs gave out at the brief contact of her fingertips on the patch of skin exposed from his shirt riding down. She chuckled and held onto him as he brought himself into the pose again. She ran her hand over his back, silently instructing him to shift into her touch. He felt her breasts brush against him and any dirty thoughts he may have had before paled in comparison to the ones rushing through his brain now. He hoped they'd stay in positions like this for a while or she'd see exactly what effect she was having on him.
She knelt down by his shoulders and ran her hands up his arms, sending shockwaves through his body. Her breasts were now directly in his eye line and the way she lingered, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe that wasn't intentional. Her lips were close enough to his neck that he could feel her breath on his prickled skin. He let out an audible groan and he saw her breasts swell as she inhaled deeply.
"So the next pose," she murmured, her lips still near his skin, "is a partner's pose." She moved away from him and he sunk down to his knees and elbows. She slid her mat over next to his. "We'll start in dandasana and then you spread your legs out as wide as you can." She waited for him to do this, lined her feet up so their big toes pressed against each other. "Now, rest your hands behind you and lean forward so…"
As he leaned forward, he felt his breath hitch. Her forehead was resting millimeters away from his. This close, he could clearly make out her features - the silver eyes with hints of blue floating near the iris. Her tiny nose with just the gentlest curve, indicating a break from years ago. Her teeth pulled the corner of her rosy, bottom lip into her mouth. They watched each other with a fierce intensity, breathing the same air in and out, silent tension building and swirling between them at a feverish pace.
It would only take a slight twitch to bring them together, and watching Katniss, he knew it would never come from her. A pregnant pause. A muscle spasm. His lips were pressed against hers, his hands lifted from the floor into her hair. She let out a not-all-too surprised grunt and welcomed the kiss. His tongue pushed past her lips into her mouth. Their legs untangled and she pulled his shirt as she rolled onto her back.
His lips hungrily explored the skin along her jawline, with licks of his tongue and nips of his teeth on her ear and neck. He let out deep growls whenever her hips bucked up against him. Peeta gratefully welcomed the additional friction and thrust his own hips down against her, rubbing his throbbing dick against the thin fabric of her pants. His hands slipped under her sports bra when she pulled his shirt off. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, his mouth greedily sucking on the exposed olive skin. Her sighs and moans encouraged him and he hooked her legs around his waist, pushing himself harder against her.
Her breathing became shallow and his hormones raced. He wanted to see her fall apart. He needed to know he was the one who had done it. Could make her feel the way he felt, could not be the cool, calm, collected yoga instructor. His head grew hazy as he thrusted against her over and over again, his lips never leaving their trail along her skin. He kissed whatever he could reach - her lips, her neck, her chest, her fingers and wrists. He couldn't think about anything except her taste, her high-pitched cries, her shuddering body below his. He didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Not until they were both spent. They were flying together, rising off the floor and spinning through the air.
They fell apart together, swallowing each other's moans. The dopey smile he wore when he brushed her hair from her face made her chuckle. "That…um…" she exhaled, "that's not what usually happens in my private sessions."
"I'm glad," he mumbled against her neck, eliciting goosebumps over her delicate flesh.
She sighed contently and they laid on the combined yoga mats, letting their minds refocus and come down from the sexual high. A honk from outside broke their silence. Katniss didn't seem to hear it, or at least she didn't say anything about it. But the honking continued and Peeta suddenly couldn't hear anything else. "Forget it," she mumbled, rolling over on top of him and trailing her fingers down his torso to the waistband of his gym shorts.
"It's killing the mood," he grumbled.
"Peeta," she whispered into his ear. "Get moving."
"What?"
"Get moving!"
Another horn. Trucks racing by. A police siren.
He snapped his eyes open, catching a gleam of sunlight reflecting off his rearview mirror. He shook his head. He was still in his car, parked outside District Twelve Dance Studio. Looking inside, Katniss was teaching a young woman simple poses, guiding the other woman's body into the correct position and smiling brightly. A dream. A fucking fantasy. Peeta glanced down at the bulge in his shorts. But a fantasy that would have to stay that way. He doubted he'd have any kind of self control if he were alone with Katniss, though he also knew he'd have the confidence that 'dream Peeta' seemed to have around her.
He made a point to never go pick Delly up from class again, unless he could stay in the car until she was done. He loved Delly, and whatever effect Katniss had on him was inappropriate. It was best to avoid the temptation altogether.
Peeta entered his favorite coffee shop at the same time he always did on Sunday mornings. The barista behind the counter greeted him as he came in and began preparing his favorite Fall-themed coffee - a pumpkin and cinnamon spiced latte. He took his usual seat at the booth in the back corner. It was far enough from the counter and door to keep out of the way, but close enough for him to people watch as he attempted to read the contracting reports for work.
Occasionally a few of the regulars would stop by and ask him his thoughts on the upcoming football game or who would make it to the World Series, but for the most part, Peeta was left alone. He took notice of the types of people who came into the coffee shop, pre- (and post-) churchgoers, ladies who spent the day shopping, twenty-somethings who were trying to caffeinate their way out of a hangover, flustered mothers with crying children, college students with laptops who pounded back coffees in attempts to finish the homework that was likely due the next day. It was always the same types of people every week. Consistency was Peeta's best friend and consistency is what the coffee shop offered.
Today, consistency was not on the menu when the door opened and in walked a pair of long, toned, olive-skinned legs, leading up to a short navy blue jumper that covered the body of one, Katniss Everdeen. He swallowed hard, still not recovered from the too-steamy fantasy he had about the woman. The fantasy that continued to affect him even weeks later.
He pulled his report further up to cover his face, but not high enough so he couldn't continue to watch her. Like a moth to her flame, his eyes were drawn to her and only flitted away when she shifted and he thought she might be looking back at him. Not that she would. They only met the one very brief time. Who was he to a woman like her?
"Peeta?"
He glanced up into the silver and blue-flecked eyes that he saw every night in his dreams. "Katniss. Hey. How are you?"
"I'm good. I was supposed to meet some friends here but they haven't shown up yet, so…" she trailed off and glanced over her shoulder as the bell above the door signaled a new customer. "What about you?"
Peeta held up his report. "Work stuff, unfortunately."
"Oh, well don't let me keep you. I thought it was you so I wanted to come say hi."
She waved and started to turn when his words flew out of his mouth before he could catch them. "You're not bothering me. Or, keeping me, I mean. I'm not actually reading this." He smiled and slid over to the far side of the booth. "You can stay, keep an eye out for your friends, if you want."
She smiled and slid in next to him. The booth was just big enough for the two of them and he couldn't help but take advantage of their close quarters by letting his thigh rest against hers. "So," she said, turning slightly to face him, her knee bumping against his. "What is this work that you're not actually doing?"
As Peeta explained the reports about the new water treatment plant the city wanted to build, the heat between them grew. He paid extra close attention to the way her fingers gripped her coffee cup. To the way her lips pursed when she cooled it off before taking a drink. To the way her throat muscles contracted as she sipped down the pumpkin spiced latte. And when she used her pert tongue to catch the bit of whipped cream that was at the corner of her lips, all the blood in his body flowed directly south.
He didn't notice that her free hand was inching closer to his leg until he felt her fingers tap on his thigh. He glanced down, then back up to her, ready to ask her about it, but she was carrying on their conversation as if it were completely normal. He tested her own boundaries by letting one of his hands slide off the table and fall onto her knee. Her skin was soft under his rough fingers, but she didn't show any indication of wanting him to stop.
He couldn't remember exactly what they were talking about, although he knew they still were. He could feel sounds slipping from his throat and could seewords forming on her lips, but all he could focus on was the feel of her leg as his fingers danced up and closer to the hem of her skirt.
"My friends are here," she whispered. He went to move his hand but hers clutched over his to keep it in place. "Is it okay if they sit with us, too?"
He nodded, gripping her leg with his fingers as she winked at him. Katniss introduced him to the other two: a tall, gangly man with the exact features as Katniss, and a dangerous looking woman with cropped brown hair and shifty eyes. He couldn't remember their names but that was most likely due to Katniss' refusal to let his hand leave her skin. She bit her lip and inhaled sharply when his fingers slipped under her skirt and she spread her legs just enough to give him access to her core. He used his fingertips to rub against the cotton panties she wore, feeling the dampness grow with each swipe. Every shift of her hips pressed his fingers against her heat and he cocked an eyebrow at her struggle to stay inconspicuous.
One glance at her friends and he knew they were safe. The three were in some heated debate about a new reality show that pitted teenagers against each other in a series of physical and mental tasks to find out who was the best of the best. Peeta tuned them completely out - partially because he had no interest in such a show and partially because he needed to know what she felt like. He pushed the edge of her panties aside and easily slipped a finger into her wet center.
Katniss' muscles clenched around him and he turned his wrist so he could curl his finger into her.
As a teenager, he had often fantasized about getting a girl off in public like this, just reaching up under her skirt when no one else knew about it and causing her to squirm and breathe heavily while trying not give them away. Just like Katniss was doing now. He reveled in her sharp intakes and silent whimpers, pushing a second finger into her and pulsing as fast as he could. Her jaw tightened and a tiny, high-pitched squeak escaped her as she trembled around his fingers. His thumb pressed tightly against her clit as she rode out her orgasm, her free hand clutching his thigh tight enough to leave imprints in his jeans. She reached over and massaged his aching dick through his denim.
"So what about you Peeta?"
He glanced up. "Huh?"
"Peeta?" The sounds of the coffee shop came rushing back to him. He shook his head but rather than the lanky man staring back at him, he looked up into the confused face of one of the regular old men who talked about the '72 Dolphins every week. "You doing okay, buddy?"
Peeta used the back of his hands to wipe his eyes. He scanned the coffee shop and caught sight of Katniss' braid as she walked out the door. His shoulders slumped as he realized what had just happened. "Um, yeah, Beetee. I'm fine."
"You looked a little dazed," Beetee laughed, sliding into the seat across from Peeta. "Kind of like Griese did when he went down in '72. That game," Beetee let out a whistle.
Peeta nodded along, well versed in the story of Bob Griese's ankle. His mind wandered back to the vixen who had infected his brain stronger than any woman had before. She had only been in the coffee shop that one day, but Peeta knew he'd need to find a new Sunday-morning routine. One that would guarantee he wouldn't possibly run into Katniss Everdeen.
When Finnick invited Peeta to the new club opening up, he really wanted to say no. He had spent the entire week fighting with the city planners about what they would or wouldn't pay for the water treatment center they wanted. He worked late every day and came home long enough to fight with Delly over something stupid before falling asleep. All to get up and do it again the next day. Peetawanted to say no, but somehow Finnick charmed him into thinking it would be a good idea to drink away the stress of the week. And his relationship.
He hated to admit the fucker was right.
"I don't even know what I did wrong this time," Peeta moaned over his fourth beer of the night. "We've never fought like this before."
"Just say you're sorry for whatever it is, Peet," Finnick shrugged. "At least then you'll get some hot makeup sex." Peeta snorted and rolled his eyes. Finnick grabbed Peeta's wrist, "Wait. No hot makeup sex?"
"No sex at all," Peeta admitted. "I don't know when it happened, but we just started slowing down like six months ago. I didn't think much of it until I realized it had been almost a month since we last fucked." Three weeks ago, Peeta saw Katniss in the coffee shop, and he spent that night trying to screw her out of his fantasies, but no matter how he tried, the sex with Delly wasn't enough. That was the last night they did anything together. He had offered a few times since to go down on her, but she always claimed to be tired. When she asked if he wanted anything from her, he waved her off. After that, they both just stopped trying. They still loved being with each other, but the magic that was once there had disappeared completely.
Finnick let out a long breath. "Well. That's a pickle. I can't imagine not having sex with Annie. And we've been together as long as you and Dell."
"Thanks, man." Peeta shot back. He downed the rest of his beer. "I need another. I'll see you in a few." He pushed away from the table and walked a slightly tipsy line over to the bar. He ordered, and downed, two shots of tequila without flinching when he felt every nerve in his body come to life. He turned his head and saw her, decked in a fiery red form-fitting dress, cut down to her navel in the front, that just covered enough to be considered decent. Her hair was in it's normal braid but with a red-orange ribbon woven into it. As she moved, her whole body came to life as if she were a living flame on the dark dance floor. Her eyes were closed and she was completely in her own world, letting the thumping beat of the club's house music take over. The walls of The Hob melted away and it was just her, dancing alone in the dark. The music faded into nothingness and he could only feel his body humming to her beat.
He crossed the floor; anyone who may have stood between him and Katniss separated like the Red Sea. She opened her eyes and caught his. Silver orbs that reeled him in as easily as they did the first time he saw them. Without a word, he took her hand and spun her around to face him. He wrapped her arms around his neck and he pressed his fingernails into the soft skin of her waist, pulling her flush against his body. She ducked her head into his neck and he took in the scent of her - like a summer rainstorm. Her hips fit snugly against him and his hands traced down her back to the dip right above her ass. He couldn't hide the effect she was having as she moved against him. Her lips found the hollow of his neck and whispered a dark secret against it that almost made him take her there, in the middle of the floor.
Instead, he spun her around and palmed her stomach, pushing his erection against her. She arched her back, pressing harder against him. When she let her head fall back against his shoulder, his lips murmured their own fantasy against her skin. His free hand wrapped around her braid and held her head against him. He nudged her legs apart with his knee and she instantly took the hint. She began to grind against it, moaning at the delicious friction that was building. He swallowed her cries with a deep kiss, not noticing - or caring - who may have seen them.
The lights of the club danced around them like pixies, urging them further and further. "I want you so much," he moaned into her ear. "I've thought about you ever since I met you."
"What have you thought about?" She instigated in a husky voice. "Tell me, Peeta. Tell me what you'd do to me."
"No," he growled.
She arched again, "Then show me." She took his hand and led him through the crowded floor.
"Where are we going?"
Katniss looked over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. "I know a place." She led him down the hall, sneaking past the entrance, through a door marked 'Employee Restroom Only.' She shoved him in and locked the door behind her.
They stood, staring at one another, bodies heaving and hearts racing. His mind was fuzzy and he couldn't hear anything other than the crashing waves of hormones that flooded through him. "Fuck," he growled and lunged at her. Trapping her against the wall, his lips met hers at a feverish pace. Their movements were sloppy and not-rehearsed. She pulled his t-shirt over his head and he shoved the straps of her barely-there dress off her shoulders. He leaned down and hastily brought one of her pebbled nipples into his mouth, teasing the other between his fingers. She moaned loudly and ran her fingers through his curls, pulling when she liked something he did. She rolled her head back against the wall, ignoring the pain that shot through her skull.
He brought his lips back up to hers, kissing her deeply. She fumbled with his jeans, pulling the button, releasing the zipper, and shoving them, and his boxers, to the ground in one fell swoop. "Damn," she breathed as his erection popped out. She ran her hand along the shaft, slowly taking in his length and girth with wide eyes. She licked her lips and spun him around so it was his back against the wall. She dropped to her knees and licked him from base to tip over and over. He groaned and thrust his hips forward. "Someone's inpatient."
"I fucking want you."
With a smirk and a wink, she enveloped the tip of his cock. He let out a groan as the wetness of her mouth surrounded more and more of him. She sucked and licked as she took him and every so often when her teeth lightly grazed his skin he'd let out a hiss of pain and pleasure. He thrust his fingers through her hair, pulling chunks of it out of her braid. She was amazing, better than he imagined she'd be. She would let out hums of approval that resonated through his body and tightened his stomach.
He pulled his hips away and lifted her up by her elbows, pulling her against the wall again. He shoved the bottom of her dress up over her hips and ripped her panties off. He plunged a finger into her core, moaning loudly at just how wet she was. "Hold on," he muttered. Katniss clung to his neck and when he lifted her up, she wrapped her slender legs around his waist. "Tell me you want this as much as I do."
"Please," she whimpered, feeling the tip of his cock against her opening.
"Tell me!" he commanded. "Tell me you think about me. Tell me you dream about me. Tell me you want me to fuck you so hard you'll never be able to think about anyone else. Tell me it's the same for you."
"Yes!" She cried. "Yes, Peeta. I need you. I want you. Fuck, Peeta, I can't even look at Delly anymore because of you." She bit her bottom lip. "Fuck me."
He pushed into her, filling her completely. She pulled him closer with her legs as he thrust into her. She was perfect, just like he knew she'd be. Every movement made him want her more. Made him need her. He couldn't get enough of her now that she was his. His fingers dug into her legs as he held her up with a strength he had never felt before. She made him feel alive and powerful and he could never go back to his life before her.
There was no "before" anymore. He didn't care if there was a "next" either. He needed this moment for eternity. He needed to be with this woman right now, right here, and nothing else. She was his air and his life and his every desire. The melded together into one body again and again. His muscles were shaking but he refused to let go. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew this wasn't real. He was too confident with her. She was too comfortable with him around. All of this was too perfect for it to be real. The fantasy ended when they reached their peak. She was just a fantasy. She wasn't real.
He couldn't stop. He needed to fill her. He needed to hear her cries of pleasure. He needed to feel her scratching down his back. And when her muscles clamped around him and her head fell into his shoulder, he let go.
The sunlight filtered in through the curtains in Peeta's bedroom. His head was pounding and he was fairly confident he was going to throw up at some point. There was a mess of blonde hair curled up beside him, sleeping lightly. Delly. His Delly, who was always there in the morning and loved him. His Delly, whom he loved.
But as he drank her in, her pale features against his dark green sheets, he wondered how much of their love is just a convenience now. Could his fantasizing about another woman - to the extent of imagining fucking her against a wall in a club - be a sign of his true feelings about Delly? He had never imagined a life without her before he met Katniss. And now the dark-haired beauty invaded his every thought. He saw her everywhere he went, he compared her to other women, like he used to do with Delly.
"Dells?" He shook her shoulder lightly until she rolled over with a sleepy smile.
"Hey, Peet. You got in so late last night. How was your night out with Finnick?"
He propped his head up on his elbow. "It was good. How was your night with the girls?"
She paused. "It was good." Her forehead furrowed and she pursed her lips. She drew little circles on the sheet between their bodies. "Peet…do you ever wonder if…"
He reached over and held her hand. "If what, Dells?"
Delly's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Do you ever wonder if we're only together because it's easy?" Her blue eyes started to tear up and Peeta brushed them away with a thumb. "I just…Peeta I love you so much but lately…"
Peeta smiled at her. "…Lately it hasn't been the same."
She nodded her head and Peeta rolled onto his back. Before he knew it, a laughter started ripping through him. He clutched his stomach and even let out a tiny snort. She joined in a few minutes later and soon they were tired and spent, muscles aching from laughing so hard. "How did we get here and not know it?" Delly asked, wiping a tear from her eye.
Delly gave Peeta so much shit for having a crush on her yoga instructor that during her next class, she insisted he come pick her up so he could ask Katniss out. Somehow, despite the length of their relationship, Delly and Peeta came out of the breakup closer than ever. They were still best friends, evident by Delly's insistence that Peeta make a move with the other woman if it would make him happy.
At the end of class, with a not-so-subtle push from his ex, Peeta made his way over to where Katniss was talking with another member of the class. He cleared his throat and Katniss turned toward him. A smile crossed her face briefly, but she seemed to think better of it. "Hi. Peeta, right?"
"Yeah. Peeta. Um…I was…uh, wondering if, uh, you would like to, uh…" His eyes caught the gym bag that she shifted onto her shoulder. In it, he saw a flash of a red-orange hair ribbon. His stomach tightened at the fantasy. "Would you like to get a drink with me sometime?"
Katniss glanced over at Delly, who must have given her some sort of confirmation. "Sure." She wrote down her address and handed it to him. "How about The Hob? I'm kind of in a mood."