This chapter is just a teaser; the rest will be longer. Please review and I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1:
Santana stood in front of her dresser, swaying her hips back and forth lightly to the rhythmic rattle of maracas that was emitting from her stereo. Clad only in her matching black lace bra and panties, she danced absentmindedly over to her closet as she contemplated her wardrobe, deciding what would best suit the thick, Jamaican heat. Santana's rocking hips froze in place as she heard the muffled click of the catch on her sliding glass door falling into place. In an instant, every fiber of her being tensed; every muscle coiled, ready to spring. She slowed and softened her breathing, allowing herself to hear better, and she widened her eyes, waiting for the slightest movement to infringe upon her peripheral vision…and she wasn't disappointed. A shadow flickered on the wall to her left from the sun filtering in through the sliding door.
Instantaneously, the Latina turned on the spot, striking out with a clenched fist at the attacker she knew was right behind her. She saw a blur of golden locks as the lithe figure dodged her blow and pranced backward out of her reach. Remaining in her fighting stance, Santana glared at her equally anticipatory opponent.
"Don't even get a hello, Lopez?" The blonde quipped, her devilish smirk stealing all the way up to her twinkling blue eyes. Santana's eyes did a cursory glance, sizing up her rival. The woman was tall, probably four or five inches more so than Santana. She had a lean, muscled frame and creamy white skin. Her flowing blonde locks were tucked into a neat pony tail that ended in a shivering wisp between her shoulder blades. Her eyes were a clear, crisp shade of baby blue, and they glinted in a frustratingly intoxicating way. Her nose was long and straight and she had high, but gentle cheekbones. There was the lightest smattering of sun-induced freckles across the bridge of her nose, and her lips were thin and pink as the flesh on the inside of a strawberry. She wore a simple, white, v-neck t-shirt, a well-worn pair of brown leather, fingerless knuckle gloves, khaki safari shorts and her feet were secured in sturdy, ankle consuming, brown combat boots. She smiled a straight, toothy grin at Santana, and raised her hand, curling the index finger towards herself. Even in her underwear, Santana was never one to back down from a challenge.
Without pause, Santana lunged for the top drawer of her dresser, desperate to get to the small blade she kept there. She whipped open the drawer to see her baby nestled firmly amongst thongs and boy shorts of every fabric and color. The dagger was an extension of her hand, a part of her. The curved, textured handle that provided maximum traction for her hands, no matter how sweaty. The cool, hard glint of the always-polished 6-inch blade. Her fingertips just glanced the handle when she felt a vice-like grip on her bicep and was unceremoniously yanked backward. As she back stepped, the blonde swept her leg swiftly, taking Santana's right out from under her. The Latina hit the floor with a wall-shaking thud, and the air was crushed from her lungs. The blonde wheeled to straddle the helpless brunette below her, her clenched fist already speeding towards her face in a blur of cream and brown. The flesh asteroid plummeting towards her snapped Santana to her senses and she swiftly curled her knees to her chest, rocked her weight back, then forward, and powered the soles of her feet directly into the blonde's sternum. The blonde gave a startled "oomph" as Santana's feet crashed into her and she stumbled backward. Continuing her forward motion, Santana sprang spryly to her feet. Once up, she took a full on run at the startled blonde whose back was now to the wall. Clasping her right wrist with her own left hand, Santana locked her shoulder and elbow and used the solid bone of her right forearm like a battering ram, powering into her assailant's neck and pinning her firmly against the wall. The blonde grunted as her spine sent a cloud of white plaster dust flying like snow from the wall. Santana's mouth was contorted in an evil sneer as she watched her helpless pray grimace and squirm under her furious hold.
The blonde opened her mouth, but instead of being sworn at or surrendered to as she had expected, Santana was met with an eyeball full of spit.
"Aaagh!" She cried, the sheer velocity with which the saliva had hit her eye was both impressive, and painful. Instinctively, both hands shot up to cover her profusely watering eye socket, and that's when the blonde made her move. Acting swiftly, the blonde grabbed one of Santana's wrists, gripping tightly, twisting it so that it jutted at a painfully awkward angle, and spun Santana away from her, bringing her arm back and up, pinning it between Santana's shoulder blades. Then, her remaining hand reached up and seized a fistful of thick, raven hair, right by the roots. Santana shrieked loudly in pain, still semi blinded. Already knowing she had been defeated, the feisty Latina still gave one last effort to shirk the powerful blonde, but the searing pain in her shoulder put a quick halt to her escape efforts. Then Santana felt smooth lips glance the shell of her ear.
"Tut tut tut. Always so feisty, Lopez." Santana growled deep within her throat, and the blonde chuckled. "Will you ever learn to just be a good girl and submit?" The blonde asked innocently.
"Fuck you," Santana hissed through clenched teeth. The blonde's jaw clenched and her mouth pressed into a hard line as she gave a sharp yank on Santana's hair, exposing the caramel skin of the brunette's neck. A sharp exhale hissed between Santana's teeth and she winced at the shooting pain rippling over her scalp.
"Where are your manners?" The blonde asked firmly, pressing her body flush against Santana's. "I guess since clearly nobody taught you how to behave…I'll have to." The blonde surged forward and placed a swift bite on the Latina's neck, applying enough pressure to ensure there would be a mark. Santana struggled furiously, trying her best to detach the lips from her skin, but to no avail due to the fingers firmly knotted in her tresses.
"If you just held still," the blonde muttered against Santana's neck, "this would all be soooo much easier." She finally let go of Santana's hair, but not with out a warning upward push against Santana's captive arm, eliciting a pained cry from the brunette. Her free hand traced gently down the gentle curve of Santana's shoulder, the smooth plain of her back, the tight, muscled mound of her ass, and down the back of her toned thigh. Bringing her hand around, she stroked up the same thigh until she got to the intersection of Santana's hip and pelvic bone. The blonde hooked her finger through the thin, lace strap of Santana's panties.
"I'm going to remove these. Hope you don't mind." The blonde smirked knowingly.
"Bite me, bitch." Santana snarled. Again, the blonde only clicked her tongue bemusedly at the Latina's wrath, and resumed the gentle tugging downward of the delicate fabric.
When the door burst open and the frame was filled with the burly, mohawked figure of Noah Puckerman. The blonde's hand froze, Santana's panties halfway down her thighs and her sex clearly exposed.
"Ah! Jesus Christ would you cover her up!" Puck yelled, wildly turning his head and shielding his eyes. "For fuck's sake!" Puck yelled, "Santana, put some clothes on. You two are going to have to act out your twisted sexual fantasies some other time because we just got a call. Get your shit together; we roll out in twenty minutes."