Certainties
"He never would have given you that ring unless he was certain there wasn't going to be anyone else. Ever."
Rated M for adult situations
Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight
Just a touch of the fire burning so bright
And I don't want to mess this thing up
I don't want to push too far
Just a shot in the dark that you just might
Be the one I've been waiting for my whole life
So baby I'm alright, with just a kiss goodnight
Just A Kiss -Lady Antebellum
She'd forgotten how determined he can be. How convincing. How distracting.
How he always knows the right buttons to push. Or in this case, the wrong buttons as well.
Forgotten just how innocent he looks when his breathing slows and his dark lashes rest against his cheeks, undisturbed by the cool breeze from the window as it dances across their naked bodies. Twisted in the sheets, spent and sticky.
She keeps telling herself that this is it. The last time. Then somehow she finds herself pressed against the wall with her legs around his waist and his hands—those incredibly talented hands—under her clothing.
Her mind drifts back to the warm body under her. Her breasts glued to his stomach, her cheek resting against his chest. His right hand warm on her naked back, his left hand tangled in her hair. She presses her lips to his skin and he stirs, tightens his grip like he's afraid she'll slip away.
She keeps telling herself he's right to pull her closer. Wishes he would trap her here forever. Wishes she didn't have to pull away. That this was right.
She's never been that girl. But she'd forgotten how easily he makes her that girl. The sentimental, and somewhat needy, emotional version of herself. The one that reserves a corner of her mind for him and that will drop her guard with a simple look from his damn captivating eyes.
She doesn't do the math. Doesn't want to count how many times he has whispered and coaxed his way into her bed. Doesn't want to know how many times she has knocked on his door and stumbled blindly to his, hands pulling and tugging with lips locked. Every time ending with her certain it was the last.
She knows.
This isn't working anything out of their systems. It's only making it harder to let him go. She needs to get up and go home. Return to her own bed and leave him to his.
He stirs again, his lips find her forehead and his hands wander freely. There isn't a part of her he hasn't touched. He spent the last three hours making sure she'd remember that fact. His tongue warm and wet against all of her most private places.
"Stay." He whispers like he feels it in every line of her body; that urge to run away from things so strong it's almost impossible to ignore. "Just go to sleep."
He almost begs, like maybe it hurts him a little when she leaves. Though she would never believe that of him, sometimes he gives her that look like maybe he cares about what they are doing. Like maybe it's not just for fun. Like maybe there is more in it for him than just seeing her naked, or getting the opportunity to touch her and fill her on a regular basis. Like maybe there is more to him than sex.
He runs his fingers up her sides, tickling her skin as they dance over it. Catching her face between his hands, he directs her lips to his.
She sinks into him, lets his lips have their way with hers as her fingers dig into his arms. Lets him roll them over and pin her under his weight. It still feels so right. Like she can close her eyes and the last six months disappear. Like he never stopped making love to her.
He's not the same man, but his touch is the same. The way he tastes and smells, his deep warm voice wrapped around her name, those are the same. Nothing is physically different and it shouldn't be. Part of her wishes it was different. It would make leaving their bed so much easier. Trying to resist him would not be as impossible.
His bed. Not theirs. She finds herself making those mistakes far too often now. Those little slip ups that imply more to what they are doing. The ones that give meaning to them as a couple.
His. Not theirs.
If she stays, sleep is the last thing they will do. She knows from experience but also from the way he grabs her knee and hikes it up just slightly so he can settle more fully between her thighs. Like he's going to prove to her once more how well they fit. She's never had any complaints with that part of their relationship though. That isn't what makes her question the wisdom of their heated affair.
"You don't want to sleep." She teases and pushes against his chest as she blows a lock of hair from her face and her fingers tease the skin at the nape of his neck. He smirks as she wraps her leg behind him and pulls him closer. His hand slips between them and she moans appreciatively throwing her head back slightly and baring her neck to his greedy lips.
"Neither do you." He murmurs against her skin, teeth nipping lightly.
Something warm bubbles in the pit of her stomach, something that has nothing to do with the way she feels about him. Because she can't feel about him. She won't.
But God, she wants to. Wants to so badly it aches. Catches in her throat and makes her head spin.
This man. That man.
They are the same. But she can't let them be. Can't let the man who puts so much into pleasing her, waits so patiently, and asks for so little, be the man she... The one who...
So it sits there in the pit of her stomach as she bites down on her bottom lip to keep it from slipping out when he slips in. Shuts her eyes tightly when she gives herself to him. Her fingers clawing at his back trying to pull him closer without letting him see how much she...
"Look at me." He says softly as his hips slow and his hands wrap around her wrists, prying them from him and trapping her hands in his.
She turns her head to the side defiantly. She hates that she's so weak when it comes to him. She's never been a weak woman, and it injures her pride to think that maybe she needs this. That maybe there is a reason she keeps finding herself in bed with him.
"Please..." His voice is in her ear as he finds that sensitive spot just below it.
She hates that she doesn't know how to tell him no. That it's the last thing she wants to do.
"Jo-Jo." He whispers again, imploring her with his tone to let him in all the way.
She comes apart. Her eyes fly open and she knows he can see the unshed tears and even if the words don't come rushing passed her lips like she expected them to, she knows he hears them in the way her lips crash against his.
She can't lose him again. Nothing is safe. His doppelganger threw her for a rather nasty and painful loop. She can't do it again. She still doesn't feel like she's regained her footing from the last time he was torn away from her. She can't invest that much again.
"I'm not going anywhere." He promises as her fingers lace with his.
"You don't know that." She chokes out. "Don't promise that."
He can't and shouldn't. They aren't dating, in fact the girl he is dating is coming home in only a few hours. That's why they are in his bed instead of hers. What they are doing is wrong.
She's always known it. It's always been sitting in the back of her mind. It was just easier to ignore before. Maybe it was the only reason she ended up in his bed again. Knowing that there couldn't ever be more when he was with someone else.
She has to wonder why that was never enough to stop her before. Why her moral compass decided it was okay to go on vacation so he could rip all her clothes off just down the hall from his girlfriend's bedroom. Why she loses all reason when his hand lands on the small of her back and his eyes wander. Why a tilt of the head means they have to find someplace private as quickly as possible, bathroom stall or bedroom it doesn't matter. They've done them both. Why somehow they just can't keep their hands off of each other.
He rests his forehead against hers for a minute, bodies still connected as he sighs.
"I know this isn't part of our usual deal..." He whispers then pulls back to meet her eyes, that soft expression betraying his intentions.
"Don't." She interrupts. "It's nothing." She insists.
This is new for them, but she's seen it before. She knows what it means when he grows quiet and serious and she knows it's way too damn soon. She expects more from him. Expects him to fight her tooth and nail until one of them gets pissed and leaves. The last thing they need is for him to start caring about more than the physical.
"It's something." He counters. "It's something." He repeats again, his lips resting on skin just over her heart.
"It's sex. You're good at that, remember? You'll find someone new tomorrow." She pushes at him and he lets her pull away from him, roll out from under him. She turns her back to him as she pulls the sheet up to cover herself. The empty ache of missing him settles on her again.
"There are very few certainties in life." He admits, settling down next to her. His breath tickling the skin on the back of her neck as he tangles his fingers in her hair, playing idly with each strand. "Too many exceptions... Even in science."
She's restless. Her eyes search the room for her discarded garments as her mind calculates an escape. One revealing as little skin as possible, he's already seen too much. She wishes she could cover her emotions as easily as she could cover her skin. She doesn't mind being naked in front of him but being vulnerable is another thing entirely.
She reaches for her panties and his hand wraps around her waist, anchoring her to him and the bed before she can even get halfway.
"He never would have given you that ring unless he was damn certain there wasn't going to be anyone else. Ever." His voice strong and clear.
She knows that. Maybe she was just hoping he wouldn't figure it out so quickly.
"You're not him." She chokes out, reminding herself perhaps just as much as him.
"Are you sure?"
Her hands grip his arm, hold him to her. Nails leaving little red crescent welts in his flesh.
"No." Her eyes burn as she admits it.
And that's the problem. She isn't sure he isn't exactly the man she left behind. The more time they spend together, the more she sees just how similar they are. And should be, she constantly reminds herself. They are the same man. No matter how hard she fights against this, she knows that deep down he is elementally the same. Though he may not have chosen the same path, she can see just how easily he could return to it.
For a long time now she's been good at denying that, but the more twisted up together they get...
It was easier when he hated her. Before, when he could keep his hands to himself, things were easier to separate. He wasn't accessible. He wasn't willing. All of his energy was spent in finding ways to piss her off. Like the kid in grade school who didn't quite know how to handle his feelings, so he spent recess tugging on pigtails and chasing the girl around with a fist full of worms.
She's come to believe that even this Zane was never completely immune. He's a bit too eager. A bit too happy. Like maybe he won some secret lottery she knew nothing about.
She has to ask herself how long she can let this go on without giving more of herself. She has to ask herself if she's ready to pursue something with him again. True it's not his fault things worked out the way they did, but she's still raw from the experience. Still misses him in the middle of the night when she wakes up alone knowing that he doesn't remember any of it.
All those little things that make a relationship are gone for him. They have no history and entirely too much at the same time. When they share a bed he still knows all the right things to do and say, but there is no meaning behind them. No magic in discovering them together. It's all firsts for him, but her firsts with him are different and he can never share them.
"Did I tell you about her?" He asks after a moment and she turns to face him, clearly confused at his topic jumping.
"Who?" He smiles and brushes her cheek with his thumb, his gaze lingering on her features as if memorizing them.
"My grandmother." He answers, his face inches from hers.
She searches their history for any clue but finds that he hasn't shared much about his family life. She knows the basics and has met his mother once before. She knows that they are close. She knows that when he was twelve his father walked out on his mother and that they went to live with his grandmother. She knows that he calls both his mother and grandmother regularly. Somehow she just assumed that was different here, but maybe it isn't.
"Not much. Just that you and your mother moved in with her after your dad left." He nods and looks away for a minute. Like maybe he's reminding himself that this isn't her first time with him. He never knows what is new for her and what is just repeating history, and it makes her sad that he never will. Her apologetic fingers on his cheek bring his attention back to her.
"There's a camp about fifty miles from here." He starts out as she settles into his arms, forgetting her urge to leave. "My family used to vacation there when I was younger. It's where my grandmother met my grandfather."
She smiles, not expecting this from him. From her Zane, but not from him. It's kind of nice considering everything they've been through. She knows how hard this must be for him.
"They spent their summers there and grew up together. By the time they were eighteen they were both crazy for each other. They married a year later and by the time my grandmother's twentieth birthday rolled around my mother was born. They thought they had all the time in the world."
"What happened?" She asks, already knowing how the story ends. No one ever has all the time in the world. Life is all too often cut short.
"There was a fire. No one ever figured out how it started. He got my grandmother and mother out but was badly burnt in the process. Medicine then wasn't what it is now and... Well..." His eyes glaze over a bit, as if he's lost inside his story. She waits patiently for him to continue and when he does his words are accompanied by a smile.
"She used to tell me all the time how brilliant he was. She could talk for hours about how his smile would light up the whole room. How he could charm his way out of anything."
"I bet you have your grandfather's smile." She interjects. He chuckles lightly and presses a kiss to her brow.
"Yeah, she used to say that too..." He pauses again and she finds his hand, wraps her fingers with his and presses their joined hands to her heart.
"She never remarried. I asked her once about it and she told me that when you find the love of your life everything else pales in comparison. Then she gave me her engagement ring and told me that I'd know who it belonged to when I met her." He looks directly into her soul when he adds, "I meant it when I promised her I'd give it to the right woman."
"Zane." She squirms, suddenly uncomfortable with the amount of emotion in his eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen.
"No, listen to me. Please." He squeezes her hand and pulls her closer with his other arm. Presses his lips against her forehead as he whispers. "He thought you were the sun and the moon. I have to know why. I know you don't want to do this. I know you're scared and hurt. But you have to understand that. I loved you and I don't know why or how. Sometimes when we're together I think I catch a glimpse of what that must have been like and it scares the shit out of me too. I'm not asking you for forever. I'm not even asking you for next week. I just... I want to see where this goes and we can't do that if you're running away every ten seconds."
"You're dating another woman." It's not a no. She is surprised at herself for not immediately telling him to take a hike. Though why she still thinks she can tell him to get lost when it's so obvious that is the last thing she can do, is really something that's beyond her understanding.
"Zoe and I aren't dating. We've gone out a few times, but it's not serious." He answers carefully as he pulls back to study her, his eyebrows furrowed like this is the last reaction he expects from her. She can understand that, she knows she should just push free of his arms and run out of the room as fast as her legs can carry her.
"Does she know that?" She asks instead. Suddenly developing the urge to make sure he makes this known to Zoe. That he doesn't belong to the other woman. Not that she wants any claim to him herself. She just wants to make sure everyone involved knows he's not interested.
"Do you want me to tell her?" He smirks, like he's figured out some great big secret about Jo Lupo.
"It's your life." She shrugs noncommittal as ever.
He chuckles and kisses his way down her neck and back up, his lips traveling across her face and stopping at the corner of her mouth.
"Somehow Jo-Jo, I think it stopped being just my life the minute our lips touched." He whispers before pulling back to look her in the eyes.
"Shut up." She warns, her hands finding their way back up to cup his face, negating her serious tone.
"Ask me nicely." He whispers a mere breath from her lips, his fingers sliding down to explore more responsive areas of her body.
She leans up and captures his lips in a long slow kiss that stills his fingers and fries her reason once more.
"That was very nice. See I knew you had it in you." He teases when she slips away from him.
"This doesn't mean anything." She continues as he pulls the sheet from her body and climbs on top of her once more, his hands bringing her wrists above her head and holding them there.
"Of course not." His face anything but serious as he leans over and kisses his way down her body.
She pulls her wrists free of his grip and grabs his head, directing his eyes away from her naked breasts and back to her face.
"I'm serious." She adds when his eyes meet hers.
"I know." His face clouds over like maybe he does. Like maybe he realizes that this is just one battle in what looks to be a very long war.
"Still, I don't think you should lead Zoe on. I mean, if you're not interested in pursuing things with her, regardless of the reasons..." Her fingers twirl in his hair and he smiles.
"I knew she made you jealous." He smirks again as he reaches down and tickles her sides.
"She doesn't." She gasps and squirms to escape his fingers.
"You are an awful liar, babe." He teases, his tickling turning to soft slow caresses. The light in his eyes shifting back to that seductive lustful gaze.
"I doubt that." Her voice is low and rough, and as his lips find purchase on the salty swell of her breast she moans in appreciation.
"You know, just because you kept your mouth shut about your undying love for me doesn't mean I didn't catch on to your strange behavior." He mumbles between kisses, his tongue sliding down her body and dipping into her belly button for a minute.
"I don't love you." She gasps as he travels lower, sucking lightly on her hip.
"Yet." He objects, resting his chin on her lower stomach and staring back up at her. "Don't worry. We'll fix that."
He looks so sure of himself she can't help but smile.
"If I were you, I'd stop talking and get to work on giving me some reason to put up with your presence then." She says as she crosses her arms behind her head waiting patiently for his response.
"Yes Ma'am." He grins then dives back in. Her hips buck off the bed and he presses them back down as her fingers tangle and grip the bedding.
"Is that a good reason?" He teases, his breath warm against her.
She can't seem to find the words against his assault, so she spreads her legs further and tilts her hips in agreement as a sharp whimper slips from her lips.
He gets the message and doesn't waste time with words.
He's finding that words really don't do them justice anyway.
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