Summary: Post 2.17 - What if Schmidt had stayed in the parking lot and Nick and Jess' moment had gone uninterrupted?
A/N: I was watching (*ahem* fangirling over) the new episode of New Girl tonight, and this idea popped into my head and demanded to be written. Everything belongs to Fox.
What If?
He was looking at her. Moving closer and closer, and she remember the last time he'd looked at her like this, and she knew he was going to kiss her.
And then he was. Their lips were locked, moving against each other and her arms were around his neck and his were on her waist and they were mashed together and he felt perfect against her. Hard and smooth and hot. She was on fire. She was burning up and he was the cause and the cool douse of water to put her out.
His hands were spread out on her back now, kneading and rubbing and it felt so good, and she mewed – literally mewed – into his mouth. Weeks of pent-up sexual tension released in a matter of minutes and she felt rather susceptible to his everything.
She stumbled backward, and he travelled with her, pushing her back through the door to her bedroom, until she landed with a soft 'thump' on her bed, still glued to him. She reached between them, fumbling with his shirt buttons. His hands were spread wide across her thighs, rubbing up and down, bunching her skirt around her waist, kneading her ass.
She pushed the button-down off of his shoulders, and quickly made do of the t-shirt underneath. And then hers was gone, followed by his pants, and she had to break away from him finally for a minute to tug off her leggings and then his mouth covered her again, but he was moving, reaching around her, next to her, on her nightstand, and she knew what it was for. Okay. So this was really gonna happen. They were going to-
He seemed to be having some trouble... maybe she should help?
She reached behind her head, grabbing the box. But it was light. Too light. Light enough to be empty. She reached inside. Uh oh-
"Dammit Winston!"