A/N: My first fic for this fandom and on this site. Please read and review. I'd love to hear what you guys think! Thanks:)
Before my eyes drift open completely, I hear the light tapping sound again. It's pulling me slowly and surely from my whiskeyed slumber. Sometimes I think about not over indulging and I make a promise to myself to try harder. It never lasts very long though, because it's the only way I can get any kind of peace. And promises are meant to be broken.
I blink once slowly. And then again. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut since they're refusing to find focus on anything. This time when they open it's better. They're working at least. The glare from my laptop makes me squint but the empty glass lolling at my fingertips is crystal clear. The remains of my sweet, sweet lullaby. Suddenly my mouth is watering and there's that familiar twinge in my chest. I don't like it when the lullaby ends. I'm a glass half full kinda girl. Or all the way full, if the quiet is hard in coming.
My face is still plastered to the side of my desk. My body is a little slower than my mind in waking up. The tapping sound comes again. There's someone at the door. It has to be quite late and I struggle to think of a person I know that would present themselves ever so politely, hesitantly, at this hour. I come up empty. Using all the strength I can muster in that moment, I push away from the flat surface, feeling a little sting on my cheek after it peels off the desk. I've over-estimated my rebounding abilities though, because my body is still somewhat trailing behind my mind that's already awake and trying to get to the door. I slump back into my chair and instead of try and try again, I let my head flop back in defeat.
"It's open," my voice croaks and I cringe at the sound as it scuttles through the cold air of my office. Clearing my throat, I repeat the words, and this time it sounds more like me.
For the first time I bother to look at the door and make out a dark shadow behind the newly replaced glass. The person is tall, short hair. Suddenly I regret my call to invite them in. Suddenly I think that this could be something sinister. But it's too late now. The handle is turning slowly, the soft creak echoing loudly in my ears. I swallow hard and I feel my muscles tense as my body finally joins the party. Thank god. At least now I feel capable of reacting to whatever is coming at me.
The door pushes open a crack and then stops, as if the person behind it is having second thoughts. I screw my eyes up and try to look harder, like I'm going to miraculously see clearly through the frosted glass. Now my curiosity has got the better of me. I need to know who it is. I'm only just acknowledging this thought when my feet are already carrying me around my desk, driving me towards the door that is neither open or closed anymore, to see the person that is there but not there yet. Some biting snark is building in the back of my mind, ready to hurl itself at the inconvenient intruder, when it suddenly gets crushed and driven to the darkest recesses of my conscious thoughts. Because the door finally swings open lazily, and I'm confused. Too confused to think or speak, so I just stand there and blink.
"I know it's late. Sorry." The last comes out as a whisper and Jeri drops her gaze from my questioning one.
A stray strand of jet black hair breaks free from her usually impeccable coif and sighs onto her cheek. It softens her somehow, and that catches me a little off guard. The austere, always together lawyer I've established an unlikely partnership with, now cuts a gentle and serene figure in my doorway. Gentle and serene. Two words I would never use to describe Jeri Holgarth. Stiff, cranky, bitch, shark… those are some of the words I'd use. For some reason, right now, none of them seem to fit.
"You could've called."
"I did." Disquieted eyes of ice flicker up to meet mine before faltering again.
I remember the discarded phone on the table, battery dead. Shit, I should really be better at keeping that thing charged.
"Are you going to tell me what's up or should I start guessing?"
She sighs deeply. It sounds like something out of the deepest part of her that didn't really want to come out, but was wrenched free against its will.
"I didn't want to be at the office." Her eyes find mine again, but this time they don't look away. "I didn't want to be at home either."
I nod in silent acknowledgement. If anyone can relate, it's me.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" It actually physically hurts for me to get those words out.
She shakes her head, no. Thank god for small mercies.
"Good, because I don't deal well with that kinda shit."
The somber mask she's been wearing is suddenly split by a creeping smile and a soft chuckle escapes. I don't know why but that makes me feel good. I watch as rakes her fingers through her hair, and the way it swishes through her fingers like velvety strands… for a split second I find myself wishing I was her hand. Only for a split second though. Because that's how long it takes for common sense to kick in.
"So… if you don't wanna talk about it…" I'm not exactly sure if I'm politely asking her to leave, because I don't want her to. I think. Maybe. What?
"Maybe we could drink about it?" Jeri asks with an arched brow. A perfectly sculpted brow that I can't drag my eyes from.
The corners of her lips tilt up and mine are doing the same.
"Come on in."
I go over to the desk to grab what's left of the Teacher's and I hear the door snap shut behind me. I feel her just as much as hear her move across the floor, the signature heels marking a trail from the hallway over to the red leather couch where I do most of my case work. I don't need to see her to know the elegant motion her lithe form is making as it moves. Enough moments have been spent committing it to memory. My fingers clutch the neck of the bottle, knuckles white. I didn't even know those thoughts were in my memory…
"Let me grab another glass."
I bend down to place the bottle on the table in front of her and looking up, I freeze. Those icy blue orbs are burning into me and it takes a while for my muscles to accept the command from my brain. Straighten, move away, go to kitchen, get glass…
I'm walking away from her but I can feel her eyes still following me. I don't know why but my shoulders push back, opening my posture. Commanding, elegant, like she carries herself. There's a sway in my hips too. Might as well give her something to look at.
"Why does it always feel so goddamn good to drink alone?"
We're three glasses in and I'm wondering if there's going to be a fight over the last sip left in the bottle. Jeri's a lot more relaxed in the way she looks and the way she sounds, and she's doing a great job of mirroring my reclined slouch – each of us in a corner of the couch, our knees angled in and toward each other.
"Uh… you're not alone."
"You know what I mean…"
"I don't, actually."
There comes that heavy sigh again. I'm beginning to think there's an endless supply of them in there.
"Why did you come here tonight?" The question was begging to be asked and frankly, I'm proud of myself for waiting this long to get it out.
"I told you, I –"
"Yeah, but why here? …. Why me?"
She runs the tip of her finger around and around the rim of her glass, lost in the motion and her thoughts. A pearlescent shaft of moonlight ripples in through the window, missing me and washing over her, illuminating the side of her face with a silvery band that glistens in her hair and cushions her milky skin with an ethereal glow. When she starts talking, she does it without looking up or stopping what she's doing. She clearly doesn't want to look at me. And me? I can't fucking look away.
"My life… who I am… it's who I have to be. Expensive suits, even more expensive shoes… I'm the answer that people expect. Whichever one they want, I give it to them. Professional, contained, level-headed, whatever… But with you… you don't care about shit like that. It's all bullshit and you don't care. And that…"
Jeri lifts her face and fuck if my breath doesn't decide to get stuck in my throat at that exact moment because those eyes, and that face though…
"…that's why I came here. Because I don't have to be any of those things with you. I guess… that's why it feels like I'm… not alone, but by myself. Myself. I don't get to be that very often. And I needed that tonight."
I force the air out of my throat and get my breathing back to normal. But I'm still not looking away. I can't.
"Also, the free booze," she says with a soft chuckle.
The air is charged between us but I grant her the moment to lighten the mood. I'm not sure what else to do anyway.
"Yep, the answer to any prayer. You just have to make sure you get your answer before you hit the bottom of the bottle."
"What if you don't?"
I said it as a joke but she's serious when she asks the question, and I'm wishing she'd want to study her glass again because I feel myself unraveling under her steady, exhausting gaze. She sets her glass down on the table and edges closer to my side of the couch. My eyes finally free themselves from her face to flicker down to the shrinking gap between us.
"Distraction?" It comes out like a question. Like a proposal. And I'm still fixed on the bare legs that are now brushing against my jeans. Burning through the fabric.
"Like what?"
Her voice is throaty and it makes me look up, and once again, I can't find my breath because the ice blue eyes I find are practically black. There's no mistaking what that means, and my tongue comes out to slowly wet my lips. I feel a slight tug at my middle and look down to see the hem of my shirt curled around her finger. She tugs at me again. This time I listen and sit up.
"What kind of distraction?" she repeats her question, and this time I'm so close I can feel her warm breath playing on my face, making my moist lips tingle.
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth to make the feeling stop. It doesn't. Instead it just grows and my eyes flicker to the mouth in front of mine. Too much alcohol, unsolicited mind control, I'm not sure what the hell is happening but I'm very sure that I don't want to stop it.
Her head dips, and lingers. She won't do it. She wants the final move to come from me. Is this a power thing? I lean in, my fingers instinctively reach up to rest on her jaw and I lift my mouth to hers. But she pulls back. It's a slight movement but definitely there. At first I'm confused and think I've got this whole thing so wrong, but then I see the ghost of a smirk on her lips. Fucking tease.
The gentle fingers on her jaw become a demanding grasp snaked at the back of her head as I pull her into me and our mouths clash in a sensuous mix of cheap liquor and desperate longing. Her warm tongue insists its way into my mouth before I can even think about what happens next. This is definitely a power thing.
I open up for her and melt into the sensation as our mouths discover their new blissful territory. The leather creaks beneath me as I shift into a more comfortable position, pressing against her. I want to feel more. As if reading my mind, I feel her hands on my waist as they grab hold of my shirt and swiftly lift it over my head.
And then she's touching me. Grazing her slender fingers over my breasts, ribs, stomach… leaving trails of blazing white heat in their wake. She buries her face in my neck and I tilt my head back to expose more of it for her. Drinking in the smell of her hair, her whiskey-tinged breath as it plays hot on my skin where she's leaving wet pools of maddening kisses.
I start to unbutton her shirt and fumble. I'm shaking so badly. The first one pops free and I move onto the next. But now she's demanding my attention again as she presses her mouth against mine, her hands forgetting the bare skin of my body and focusing instead on the flimsy fabric of my bra. And what lies beneath. She pulls my stiff buds between her fingers and a moan rises out of my throat. My trembling hands grab fistfuls of silk and I pull. She can afford a hundred of these shirts anyway. Buttons pop off and go scattering every which way, but she doesn't give any sign that she cares. Instead, she only deepens the kiss and I can hardly breathe but I don't want to breathe so I kiss her back. Hard.
It's clumsy and awkward, but in a few seconds we've done great work of destroying the clothing barrier between us, naked and stretched out on the couch. She hovers over me, resting on one elbow as she uses her other hand to ghost the side of my cheek, her eyes burning into me, short, hot breaths playing on my face. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and instead of dropping my hand, I cup her jaw and pull her into me.
This time when our lips meet, it's soft and tender. I nip her bottom lip between my teeth, tugging gently until she lets out a deep moan into my mouth. A moan that reverberates right through me, ending in a spark of arousal that torments its way around my pulsing clit. My tongue soothes the agitated area where I'd just bitten her before I dip back in and now the kiss is no longer tender. It's hungry.
My fingers dig into her back and I feel her hips buck into me. She uses her thigh to push my legs apart and I have to break our contact with a surprised gasp as I feel the pressure of her against my throbbing pussy. I lift my hips to deepen the sensation and see a slight smirk flicker on her lips. She knows she has me right where she wants me. I couldn't care. I'm rocking my hips, rubbing up against her, leaving traces of just how much she has me all over her thigh.
I look up and see that this time it's Jeri who's surprised. I guess she didn't know the effect she was having on me. Her fingers curl tightly into my hair and she growls as she takes my mouth with hers in a wild, rough kiss, as if she's punishing me for being so blatantly aroused. Well, punish away Hogarth.
And then her lips are gone and I moan at the loss of that touch. But my disappointment is quickly abated when I feel her lips making their way down my neck and chest… Having no patience for clasps, she pulled my breasts free from their cage, paying attention to each one. I lift my head to watch as she circles my taut bud with her tongue, teasing the other with her fingers, rolling it gently and tugging. It's all I can do to keep the pleasurable scream from leaving my lips and I bite down on my wrist, moaning into it instead. And then she takes me into her mouth, sucking and flicking and this time I do cry out as I dig my fingers into her hair, my hands begging her not to stop. Not to ever stop.
But she does stop, and I groan loudly. My eyes flutter open to see her shifting her position now. Using both her hands, she pushes my knees apart and lowers herself between my legs. My hips rock up out of their own, wanting more than anything that final thing that's going to get me over the edge. She steadies me with her hands on my thighs and lowers her head. I stop breathing. It's dark but I know there's enough light for her to see how drenched I am. I look at her face and her expression confirms it.
She licks her lips and bites down on the bottom one, all the while not taking her eyes off my pussy. I feel her fingers dig into the soft flesh of my thighs and I know she's fighting to keep some kind of control. The idea that I'm having this effect on such a woman of power gets me going even more and I feel another bead of arousal spread warm and wet at my entrance. The moan that comes from deep in her throat tells me she sees it happening and I can't take it anymore.
"Jeri… please…" I'm begging. Let her think what she wants. But I have to get it now or I might just implode.
Luckily for me, she wants it as much as I do and she lowers her head those final inches. My head drops back and I groan as her tongue slides the length of my slick folds, from my center all the way to my clit, swollen and throbbing. She flicks her tongue over it a few times and something inside me rips open. I feel her grip on my thighs tighten as the trembling grows and then she starts again, circling with more and more pressure. And then she sucks me into her mouth entirely and stars explode behind my eyelids. She's sucking and kneading my tip with her tongue and the knot in my belly is starting to unravel.
"Oh fuck! Fuck… fuck me…"
She releases her hold on me to lap up my juices and then turns her attention to the tight muscle at my center. It's like she's reading my mind. Like she knows exactly what I want when I want it. I feel her slowly dip her tongue into me and I instantly clench around her. She does it a few more times and then slowly trails her tongue all the way between my folds again, back up to my clit. And then she's inside me. First the tips of two fingers, dipping into my entrance, coating themselves with my juices and then she goes deeper. And deeper still. I moan loudly, no longer caring to hide the sound. Her tongue is massaging my pulsating clit and then there are three fingers stretching me wide open.
"Oh god…" It comes out in a breath because I can't find my voice or any coherent thought. All that exists is Jeri and her wonderful mouth and her talented fingers.
She thrusts into me hard and then again. I bite my lips to keep the whimper from escaping. I'm so fucking close. My fingers are digging into the soft leather of the couch, holding on for dear life as I'm thrust toward the edge where I'm sure I'm going to go careening right over it to my untimely demise.
Her fingers are working a splendid magic as my walls flutter around their rhythmic motion. She hits my special spot not once, but three times and I push down with my hips, asking silently for more. Reading me like a book, Jeri sucks my clit into her mouth as she thrusts into me hard and I'm falling. Everything inside me is on fire and every muscle in my body quivers with the strength of my climax as I come in her mouth and on her hand over and over again.
She finally releases me from her mouth to administer hot, wet kisses to my inner thighs, the top of my pussy, my throbbing clit, all while her fingers are slowing down, bringing be back from my high, until eventually she pulls out of me.
I look at her through half hooded eyes and watch as she licks my spent climax from her fingers, keeping her gaze fixed on me. I'll be damned if that heat starts rising between my legs again. I'm ready for more.
In one swift motion I push myself up and flip her onto her back, pushing myself between her legs. The surprise on her face makes a new pool of wetness burst out of me. She's clearly not used to being overpowered. I run my fingers between her folds and a groan escapes my lips. She's not used to it, but definitely likes it. I bring my fingers covered in her slick wetness up to her mouth and she obediently cleans them. Pressing my lips against hers, I drink in the taste of her, the smell of her and lights pop behind my eyes. The woman is intoxicating. Better than any bottle I've ever had.
"Your turn," I say as I inch lower on the couch.
"Whatever you say, Jones. I'm all yours."