A/N; Rated this for adult situation, and some language. Ok so this is in Lieu of a Christmas Card for my good friend LovinJackson - I'm so disorganised Tara, but you know this by now right? Oh and for the record this may seem a little rusty because it is my first and only attempt at Raunchy... I had to wait until Colin left for work to write it!!! :) Excuse the formatting, my computer's "Enter" button is not on good terms with me. Merry Christmas Tara - can't tell you how pleased I am to have met someone quite so awesome... and so utterly Buckets of Crasy!!!! LOL.
First Time, Last Time; Every time Thereafter.
Why was there no training for these damn things? Caleb fumbled with the lethal elastic strap that he'd managed to snap on her shoulders twice already. It was fortunate that she was equal parts understanding to hotness! He blushed harder as he recalled the 'Ow' shape her mouth had folded into against his lips.
Right now, tangled in his shirt and her arms and legs, heat was becoming a real problem. Her creamy white skin of her soft arms literally burned against his sides, as her fingers danced pirouettes along his back. Her mouth broke contact to blaze small bites along his jaw line and up to his sensitive earlobes. And Good God-damn, but he needed to find the breaks; because where this was heading… he was not equipped for! . As her tongue started to play gently he let out a sound that was two breaths off a whimper. He reflexively pulled her in closer till their hips were fused together, and the heat climbed another two notches.
He tried to draw his attention to the matter at hand, fighting hard to think through the red haze that had him and held him.
His field trip to the Red Caboose with Bobby, and the nauseating video lecture, mercilessly delivered by his Father directly afterward had dampened his enthusiasm for this form of recreation effectively. But this was Tara Jackson – the, Tara Jackson. The girl who forced every guy to go non-verbal with nothing more than a coy smile. And she was smart, and funny, and quoted the Godfather to him during their paired Chemistry practical and… OH L.O.R.D where had she learned to do THAT?!
His breath came in shudders as she drew his face back to hers. He moaned deeply into her mouth, his body taking up the heat in his brain, as it clenched pleasantly in a way he felt certain she must feel.
At the Caboose, Sugar – yes that was the name she had been going with- had been a little too businesslike for his liking. And despite what he had let his Dad and Bobby believe – he had not bought what she had been selling. But here in the darkened science lab with the soft, yielding, talented Ms. Jackson; he thought he might go insane if he didn't get closer to her. Pleasure was tripping that fine line to the point of discomfort and he caught himself growling her name as he reached for her jeans.
He moved slowly, leaving every door and window open to her, if this was not what she wanted. Tara started to laugh against his lips; a low, throaty, predatory sound. He pulled away to look at her.
"Ok – not one of the answers I was expecting." He spoke in a bemused tone, his ruffled hair and swollen lips betraying him as much as his full blown pupils. . She smiled lopsidedly at him shaking her rich red hair.
"You are exactly what I was expecting cowboy" she answered knowingly.
The beautiful boy in front of her actually tipped his head to the side, puppy dog style, and regarded her with open confusion in his golden eyes. He leaned away from her now his bare chiseled chest still working a little too hard as he tried to catch his breath. She had interrupted her vessel and this child at just the right moment it would appear.
"Where were you planning on leading this encounter young one?" she asked in a detached tone whilst watching him retreat further from her physically.
"Tara your four months younger than me you…" Caleb started to babble in confusion, a hot crimson flush painting his cheeks as he started to untangle their bodies and look for his T-shirt, without her help.
In fact for all intents and purposes Tara had left the building. And then it hit him. His senses clicked together and he rolled away at speed coming to rest in a graceful crouch, one hand holding himself up and maintaining his balance. After putting some space between them he watched her like a viper. For her part – she did nothing.
"What are you? Where is Tara?" he growled his voice lit with a different kind of passion now.
"Present and accounted for." was the clinical answer.
"You hurt her and I'll…." he began reaching for his backpack whilst never taking his eyes off the thing wearing Tara.
"Oh stop that" the tone was slightly irritated.
With a cold clawing feeling, Caleb realized he could not move. The girl's movements as she lifted herself off the floor and began to move towards him were graceful and lithe. Reaves tried to comfort himself with the fact that Tara's eyes were still the same glorious green he'd enjoyed looking into and… . Oh boy, get your head in the Game here!
He scolded himself.
"Quite" the girl's wintery voice agreed.
"You're a Psychic?" he asked watching helplessly as she came to within mere inches of his face and starred intently into his eyes.
"You were going to copulate with this body without provision." the voice asserted matter of factly.
Caleb bit his lip the red deepening on every inch of his body. This was worse than his Dad's home sex education film.
"You want to get on with taking me out sweetheart, or were you just going to humiliate me to death?" he asked trying his best to pull it, the fuck, back together even as his mind raced to find an escape.
Laying a hand on his cheek she whispered, "I mean you no harm, Caleb Reaves. But you do need to understand the – gravity of your choices."
"Who are you?" he demanded again.
She merely touched his forehead with two fingers sending the incapacitated youth crashing to the ground in a dead faint.
Leaving her touch lightly on his forehead she whispered; "Remember only this – ill considered consequences are the undoing of mankind."
Caleb felt himself falling at a staggered pace, as if the substance he was moving through was trying, and failing, to stop his descent. The further he plummeted the more he saw. Images came to him in full Technicolor and fearful sound. He saw Tara and himself follow through to the place they both wanted to head.
Bodies twisted and melted into each other. Gasps' turning to sighs and then into moans and full throated cries. The sweat rolled down the crease of his spine as he arched over her. His first embrace was intense, heated, passionate and utterly without precaution. She called his name eagerly, urging him on, and then screamed it demanding he release her or keep her pinned forever. He grits his teeth, trying to hold onto the control that he'd been learning since he was twelve. He wanted to be gentle, he could not, would not risk hurting her. She reached up to sweep away a stray sweat soaked lock of his hair. Their hands twined together as her cries became more frantic and he fought to hold out for her. He followed her closely with cries of his own, white hot and abandoned, he fell forward catching his weight on his forearms.
Time flashed forward and he watched his own devastated face as she uttered the words; . "Three months gone."
He felt the pit of his stomach crash to the floor. He knew he would do what he had to. But the chorus of clamoring fears that raced through his mind immobilized him and sent her fleeing the scene. She cried as she ran and he was nailed to the spot by the thought that tore his heart out - . .What if I'm my Fathers Son?
Following the third and final flash of lightening he saw himself holding something in both hands. The bundle was wrapped securely as it tried to wriggle free of his grasp. His future self's face, was a mask of horror and pain. As the vision cleared itself he saw the beautiful babe in his hands, rosy cheeked, cannily alert, smiling and – yellow eyed.
Reaves woke with a start finding his lips still wrapped round Tara's. He nearly gagged as he drew away from his astonished Chem. mate. Running a hand over his bare midriff he drew a breath and exhaled slowly.
"Sorry Tara." He began haltingly. "I don't have… I didn't come prepared."
Slow realization dawned on her pretty face and she reached for her bag, opening the outer pocket, she flashed the contents at him.
"That's Okay, I was a Girl Scout." Her eyes laughed and smoldered simultaneously at him.
He hesitated. The dream, waking nightmare, or what ever the hell it had been, still ran raw over his nerves. Had it come from some dark closet in his fucked up Psyche or elsewhere? He didn't want to risk Tara if something Supernatural was about to attack.
For her part Ms. Jackson blew out an exasperated breath.
"Good Lord Caleb, I've been throwing myself at you for the whole term – you are not seriously going to turn me down because I brought the supplies are you?" she demanded quirking a challenging smile at him.
When all he could do was blink at her disbelievingly, she sighed dramatically. Reaching behind her with one hand she disengaged the offending item of clothing and watched in utter satisfaction as his breath caught in his throat.
Caleb could only take a second to try to alleviate his dry mouth because that moment's pause was all his body would allow him, before he crossed the space between them and reclaimed her. His mind told him he'd been given a valuable reminder of the high stakes he played. But then again he was way too young to quit the table yet! So as he fell into his first encounter with enthusiasm, he vowed that it was the last time that he'd be so ill prepared and every time there after; whenever he so much as thought of touching another woman; he'd remember that bonny baby - with the yellow eyes. But for now he was happy to lose himself safe in the knowledge that the consequences were minimized, lose himself to this first time – lose himself in Tara.