You slide up close to me. Tear the t-shirts off each other, your hands all over me. I tell myself I'm not in love, but "one more time" is not enough.
The first time it happened, Walter had been terribly confused, pulling back after several seconds of feverish kissing.
"You're upset with me."
"Yeah."
"Then why – "
"Do you have any objections?"
He probably should have said yes. But the way she was looking at him, eyes dark, skin flushed, hands curled around his shirt, he couldn't have done anything but resume kissing her, knowing full well she was going to leave afterward but deciding that having here there at that moment was worth watching her walk away. Something about it being better to have loved and lost.
She'd shown up again about a week later, this time with fewer pretenses, less wasted time. He asked her later, when their legs were tangled together and they both were trying to catch their breath, if he thought she'd be back again.
"I don't know."
"It's just that, it's probably a bad idea to be in the garage."
She had agreed. They didn't need the team meddling in this. There was no need for it. They couldn't communicate verbally, that seemed to be clear. But, Walter thought, why waste their physical connection? No matter how out of sync they seemed otherwise, that was always good. More than good.
Walter checked into the hotel, agreeing to pay for an entire night even though he knew they'd have left before Ralph even got out of class. He knew better than to ask about an hourly rate. It would be better financially, but an inquiry like that usually implied money was changing hands.
Not that he judged that. It just wasn't correct to this situation.
The room was small, not that they needed much space, and he put the suitcase he'd brought for show on the floor near the television before lowering himself onto the edge of the bed, studying his reflection in the mirror while tapping the tips of his fingers against his thighs. They agreed that she would arrive about ten minutes after him, just in case any passerby happened to know who they were.
Almost exactly ten minutes after his check – in, there was a knock at the door. Standing up, Walter ran a hand through his hair and gave himself one last glance in the mirror. His hair was a bit curlier than usual today. He hadn't done anything different, but it pleased him. She loved his curls. Thinking about her fingers running through them made him shiver.
She smiled when he opened the door. "Hi."
"Hi," he said back, smiling. "You look nice."
She stepped into the room, dropping the jacket that had been slung over her arm when she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. He kissed her back, his hands on her waist, his senses filling up with everything Paige. Their mouths separated ever so briefly, both of them drawing breath before lips smacked together again, feverish without being sloppy. Paige's hands gathered fistfuls of his shirt, tugging until buttons popped open out of sheer luck. She slipped her hand under the shirt, running over his chest and down to his stomach, humming against his lips when his muscles tightened in response to her touch. Walter slid an arm around her waist, holding her in place while his other hand snaked up under her skirt. If the last time at the garage was the start of a pattern, she wouldn't be wearing any underwear.
She wasn't. He stroked her once, testing her readiness, then pushed a finger inside, curling it before withdrawing almost all the way and then repeating the action, feeling her arms around his neck lock up as her knees went week. His name rushed through her lips, and it spurred him on, increasing the temp just a little, just enough to hear the whimper in her throat as she struggled to stay quiet. She'd always been like that whenever they were in hotels, concerned with being overheard. He wondered if it was still acceptable to play the game he always played when they were together, challenging himself to make her lose all coherent thought and to hell with any potential neighbors.
He added a second finger, his thumb rubbing at her nerves, and Paige moaned loudly, lifting a leg to hike over his hip. He pushed forward and to the side, and Paige hopped on one leg, using him for support until her back thudded against the wall. His fingers were working furiously now, desperate to be inside Paige but not wanting to stop hearing the sounds coming from her. Her nails were digging into his back, he felt her teeth against his shoulder, and he moved his free hand over her hip, back up to her ribs and down again, just wanting the feel of her on his skin because he couldn't take this for granted anymore.
"Walter," she said, her voice hoarse, "I need you." She shifted her leg around him, a hand snaking between them and around his wrist to find the button on his pants. Walter removed his hand, helping her, and when his pants and boxers were around his ankles Paige turned to face the wall and leaned against it, placing a foot on the suitcase. Walter wrapped an arm around her stomach, positioning himself and entering her halfway before determining she was sufficiently aroused and pushing all the way in. He groaned at the feel of her, pressing his fingers against her stomach and placing his other hand flat against the wall as she ground her hips back against him. He began to thrust, slowly but in a steady rhythm, brushing the spot inside her that made her press her fingertips hard against the wall, turning them white. "Oh God, Walter," she moaned, placing a hand over his as it rested on her stomach. It was an act of intimacy that almost made him falter. He'd thought this position was safe, limiting eye contact and kissing, allowing both of them to focus purely on physical release without complicating things with any feelings, the ones he still had and ones that for all he knew could be lingering within her. But there was only so much former lovers could do to keep this from escalating, turning from simple efficiency into a gray area that might be too complicated to separate and sort and return to the safety that was black and white. He moved his hand from under hers, slipping it downward, finding her clit and rubbing it with his thumb. She put her other hand back against the wall, panting for a few seconds before moaning again.
"Walter, I'm gonna come," Paige gasped, tipping her head back and thrusting backward in perfect sync with him. "Oh God. I'm so close, I'm so close, please don't stop."
Wouldn't dream of it. He gripped her tighter, thumb continuing to stimulate her externally as he found the spot deep inside of her with each movement of his hips. She was whimpering now, he could tell by the sound that her lips were pressed together, and then a sharp moan rushed through her lips. "Oh shit, please don't stop." She moaned again, lifting a hand and slamming it back against the wall. "Jesus…"
Walter leaned down, placing his lips on her neck, seeking a spot that he knew could make her knees buckle all on its own. Paige shuddered, another sharp sound escaping her, and Walter groaned when he felt her pulsing around him.
He was getting close too, but when Paige reached back behind her to put a hand on his hip, he knew he had to stop. Sometimes after an intense orgasm she became too sensitive to continue immediately, and continuing to move would cause her pain. He stilled inside her, running his fingers up and down her back before carefully easing out. Paige straightened up, turning around and brushing hair out of her face. "Sit on the bed," she said in a low voice, giving him a light push on the chest before working to remove the rest of her clothing. He obeyed, backing up and sitting on the edge, freeing himself of what clothing remained, expecting her wait a moment and straddle him so his gasp when she dropped between his legs and took him in her mouth was one of both pleasure and surprise.
She shifted her weight, rubbing his thigh with one hand. The action, one so familiar, that she always did so gently, made him falter again. He tried to focus on the sensations she was creating with her lips and tongue, detach from who this was and their history together, but he knew it was futile. This was Paige Dineen, the love of his life, and he shouldn't try to pretend otherwise. If nothing else, she was here now, with him, and god damn this was better than nothing at all. His eyes fell closed as a groan escaped his lips. Paige's hand disappeared from his thigh, almost as if she realized what she'd been doing, then it returned like she didn't know where else to rest it. He other hand, moving in tandem with her mouth, slid slightly lower, cupping and massaging him as she dropped her head all the way and hollowed her cheeks. Walter tipped his head back, his hips bucking against her as a loud, guttural sound came from his throat.
Paige gagged, lifting her head and coughing into the crook of her elbow. Walter reached to tuck some hair behind her ear. "Sorry."
"All good," she said, moving back into position and running her tongue slowly along the length of him before wrapping her lips around his head and sliding back down. Shit. Walter pressed his palms into the mattress, groaning in sync with her rhythm, trying to keep his hips still, trying not to watch her because they both knew what this was and it wouldn't do him any good to let her know how much she still affected him – at least emotionally. She wasn't a genius, but it certainly didn't take one to know what she still did to him in a physical manner, just like he didn't have to be one to know that, at least when it came to how this all felt, they were still on the same page.
"Paige," he managed, his voice sounding like a whine. She looked up at him, swirling her tongue once more before putting both hands on his knees to help her get to her feet. Walter scooted backward on the bed and she followed, crawling over him and positioning her hips. She sank down on him slowly, and he waited, wanting to make sure she was ready again. He was desperate for a release, but his willpower was, as she would say, almost annoyingly strong, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause her discomfort. Because then this might stop.
This couldn't stop.
Paige started to move again, her hands flat on his chest, and he thrust up to meet her, both of them groaning in unison. Walter was glad that once she'd gotten off once she was much easier to bring around again, because all the willpower in the world wasn't going to help him hold off much longer. He licked his fingers and reached up, tracing around one of her nipples, feeling her shudder above him in response to his touch. She tightened around him, he knew she did that on purpose, and he groaned, his fingers digging into her thigh. "Paige, I can't…"
"Come for me," she said, and her words sounded almost like a demand; if he didn't know better he would wonder if she was trying to keep his mind focused solely on her, trying to ensure he wouldn't even consider doing this with someone else despite his previous pleas for her to understand that he wasn't and he wouldn't because the point of this was to feel good and he knew nothing was going to feel like this.
It was all quickly becoming to much, and he lowered his hand from her breast, finding her nerves and circling them with his thumb, careful not to jab her as she moved on him but they'd done this so many times he was confident he'd perfected the technique. He was teetering on the edge, and when her hands found his nipples he shuddered, his groan more like a bellow as he came hard. Paige rode him through it, her own hand providing the extra stimulation she needed to come apart a second time, and then she leaned forward, laying on his chest as they both gasped for air. "Holy shit," she breathed, and he agreed silently, still unable to vocalize anything. He lifted a hand, stroking her back a couple times before realizing what he was doing, and then he drew in a long breath. "You blow my mind."
"Good," she said, then lifted her head. "I mean…I don't know." She rolled off him, laying breathlessly on her back for a minute or two, then she sat up. "I really need to…"
"Yeah, no, me too. Job later."
"Same here."
"Nice."
"Yeah."
She leaned in, kissing him hard on the lips again, before standing and flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Do this again sometime?"
"Sure."
"Text you?"
"Sounds good."
She pulled her shirt over her head and reached for her skirt. "Good luck with the job. Whatever it is."
"To you too. Good luck managing it with lower numbers."
"You have lower numbers than we do," she said. She grabbed her jacket. "See you in a few days, probably?"
"Sure thing."
One last kiss, and then you're a goner, and I'm here wishing you could stay a little longer.