Title: Tasting the Lemon
Author: Mindy
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I own them not.
Spoilers: not really.
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Summary: 'Nuff said in title.
-x-
"You want a taste of the Lemon, don't you?" she purred, her back against the door.
"I do," he rasped, placing a kiss behind her ear, then a string of kisses down her neck. S-l-o-o-o-w-l-y.
"You loooooove a little taste of the Lemon…" she grinned wickedly, her hands in his hair as she watched him unbutton her: "dontcha?"
"You know I do," he murmured, mouth falling hot against the swelling tops of her breasts.
"Say it--" she teased, arching into his bigger body: "Say you want a taste of the Lemon. Say you just…gotta have a little taste of the Lemon."
Jack smirked, straightening and looking her in the eye. "You do realize that even though you're joking, this is still turning me on quite considerably."
Liz gave a shrug, hands still in his hair: "So then we're both happy. What're you complaining about?"
"Nothing," he rumbled, heading south: "Absolutely nothing…" He kissed his way down her clothed body, lowering to his knees. "I have been thinking about tasting the Lemon aaaall day," he mused slowly. Hands caressing her hips, he leant forward to bury his nose in her apex, inhaling deeply: "Not just tasting my Lemon either. But squeezing and licking and biting--"
"Alright, okay--" Her hands shifted to his shoulders, pushing him back: "the Lemon is officially grossed out." She tried to step away from the door but Jack held her where she was, hands firm on her hips.
"No, stay," he said gently: "Stay."
"If you wanna continue knowing a Lemon," she told him resolutely: "you need to cool it."
He gave a soft laugh. "You started it."
"What are you, ten years old?" she retorted, nose scrunched: "or Frank?"
"Re-lax," he soothed, hands smoothing over her hips a few times and then gliding down to the hem of her dress: "I can guarantee the Lemon will enjoy this next part."
She frowned down at him but her hands dove back into his hair: "As long as there is no talking involved…"
"That's physically impossible if you're doing it right," he told her, hands creeping up under the dress to draw down her underwear: "I am not that orally talented."
"I wouldn't dare underestimate you when it came to…this," she muttered, stepping out of them and watching them get tossed away.
"The Lemon flatters me," Jack smirked, removing her heels as well.
She snorted softly, pressing two fingers over his lips. "D'ya think we can stop calling me that now?"
Jack grinned, kissed her fingers then lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and ducked his head under her skirt.
"Hey, don't get lost under there," she said, feeling for his head under the black material.
"Believe me, Lemon," Jack murmured back: "I know my way around."
Her answering retort got swallowed by a loud gasp as her head snapped back against the door. "Jack--!"
She felt him smile against her, his hands tightening on her ass. The conversation for the next few minutes was fairly one-sided, with her gasping "God" and "Yes" and "Mmm" and "Jack!" while she clawed for something, anything to hold onto. The only time Jack spoke was to mutter reverently from beneath her skirt:
"God, Lemon, I love how you taste..."
But by then she was too busy coming to really care.
(Not that orally talented, my ass, was her first thought when she finally had one.)
END.