Okay I love writing smut but my brain wasn't there this time, give it time though, I'm sure it will happen eventually.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
I mean yeah, he thought as he absently combed his fingers through her hair, Paige is hot as hell, but … it wasn't supposed to happen like this.
No, he mused, I was supposed to take her out, date her. Show her I'm interested in more than just sex. Not that he was complaining, because as sex goes, it had been great, but sex in Graceland was a minefield enough without now having to navigate what emotional subtext lie beneath the surface.
From the moment she'd crossed the room to give him a hug, a hug laced with an air of "act casual" all over it, Mike was reminded of just how badly he'd truly wanted Paige, all those feelings that he'd buried beneath the surface when he'd gone back to DC (and found himself a vanilla fuck buddy just to keep the edge off) had come rushing back, and before he knew it, the tension he'd felt between himself and Paige since that first rushed kiss came rolling back. A kiss that felt like a loaded gun with the safety off – if only they hadn't stopped then, Mike might not have left.
Their kisses last night were no less loaded, and Mike began to feel the same tension he thought he'd worked out last night, simmering again, waiting to just boil over. Perhaps this would be a tension he would never rid himself of. Perhaps Paige would always cause this tightness inside him, this feeling that some part of him was waiting to get out; to get to her.
He shifted uncomfortably, Paige still neatly tucked against him, undoubtedly in a dream world where this complicated mess of feelings didn't threaten to overwhelm her, surely not the way they threatened Mike.
What am I doing? He wondered, not for the first time. He should have known that coming back here would stir all of these old unresolved feelings up. Oh, it wasn't just lust, and he damn well knew it. Lust was definitely a huge part of the equation, but there was so much more than that. And how well did he really know Paige Arkin? A woman who made her living pretending to be someone else, all the time?
Hypocrite, he accused himself, shaking his head imperceptibly to the side. It was true, Mike was not entirely without lies and half-truths. He had no right to ask complete honesty from anyone if he was not prepared to give it himself.
Paige stirred, and Mike watched as she scrunched her shoulders and snuggled closer to him, sighing in her sleep. As if that wasn't the most adorable yet sexy thing he'd ever seen a woman do. He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. Oh, Paige, he thought, fear and anxiety building within him, if only you knew just what you're doing to me.
Perhaps it was better if she didn't know.
And then she was awake, staring at him with doe-eyes and not even the slightest indication that she'd been sleeping, their eyes locked in a piercing gaze, panic, lust, heat, longing, all flashing between them as the realization that they were here, in this moment, together, a night spent wrapped in each other and no, there were no regrets, only …
More.
"How long have you been up?" she asked, and he wasn't quite sure if she meant him or … him. Paige was remarkably good at meaning more than one thing, any time she spoke.
"Not long," he replied, the words catching in his throat, his gaze still locked upon hers. She drew in a breath, her eyes darting from his for just one brief moment before catching his gaze anew.
"Long enough," she said, her leg brushing, intentionally, against him, and … there she goes again, with the double entendres, he mused, before leaning down to take her lips, a hunger he'd felt since the moment he saw her again; a hunger he was sure he might never satisfy fully. Her arm tightened around his neck, pulling him to roll over her, his need for her threatening to consume them both.
He pulled his mouth from hers, barely, to whisper against her lips, "What are we doing?"
"If you don't know…" was her response, cryptic as ever, and damn her, that wasn't what he meant, and she knew it.
"I mean-"
"I know what you meant, Mike," she said softly, her eyes once again locked on his, her face so close that he could feel her breaths against his cheek. "Let's not talk about that now."
He didn't have to respond, not verbally at least. He pressed his lips to hers again, a moan escaping him as he felt her tongue caressing his own. No, he thought, let's not talk about this right now.
Let's just stop there, for today. I think they're going to have hot and volatile sex but when it comes to actual feelings, well, things may get a bit messy.