"No."
Nick Miller is infuriating. In a variety of ways. In fact, you're almost always frustrated with him, in one way or another, and you kind of love that about him, which makes you question your own sanity. You love a guy who drives you nuts. Smart. Very smart.
He's smiling at you now, that little grin that makes your heart flip flop inside your chest. Damn him. You'd do anything for that grin.
"Nick!", you plead. "No!", you try again in your most pathetic voice.
"It's just a Ferris wheel!", he chuckles, pulling you closer, his hands settling on your lower back. You shiver.
It's a surprisingly crisp fall night in Los Angeles and after arguing about it for exactly two minutes in your car, Nick agrees that for your first official date, you're going to the fair. You squeal with excitement as you hit the road, ignoring his patented grumpy face as you rattle off the different food booths and rides you've read about for this year. He noticeably perks up when you mention the beer garden. You giggle.
When you arrive, he makes a show out of racing out of the passenger seat in enough time to open your door for you. You roll your eyes but smile up at him as he takes your hand like some kind of ridiculously adorable knight in blue flannel and jeans and pulls you up. You stand there for a moment, pressed to him, the smell of his skin warm with a hint of soap, and your heart flutters. You try to think of something to say to make the moment light but instead he takes your face in his hands and bends down to kiss you. You try to be a lady. You really do, but it's damn near impossible when Nick Miller is kissing you. His tongue moves against yours, coaxing you to open your mouth wider and when you do, and your hands slip up into his hair and tug at him, he groans.
So you do it again.
He presses you up against your car, almost growling in between kisses, and a rush of empowerment flows through you, and you decide to test the waters.
His eyes are closed tightly, so he doesn't know you're watching him when you take his lower lip in between your teeth and bite down softly.
His hips buck and the bulge in his jeans presses against you, and before the reality of the situation comes crashing down on you both (you're in a well lit parking lot for Pete's sake; aren't there kids around?!) he pulls away and then comes back to you, his teeth aiming right for your earlobe. His breathing is heavy and out of sync when he sucks at the soft skin there and you both bury your faces in each others necks, softly calling each others names in resignation. If this can happen in a parking lot, Jesus. What could you do to each other in a proper bed?
The rest of that long walk to the fair entrance is a blur, but you're grateful that the location overlooks the ocean because dammit, your skin is on fire and the cold air feels incredible. You dressed in layers tonight, a simple cotton skirt and sweater set, because seriously, it's LA in the fall, not Minnesota.
You walked around the fair hand in hand, and you pulled him from booth to booth, feeling absolutely no guilt when you took too big of a bite of that deep fried cheesecake and made a mess of your face. Nick looked at you with a shy gleam in his eye as he leaned down to kiss the graham cracker crumbs off the corners of your mouth, stealing a kiss in the process. "Mmm..." he sighed softly. You nodded in agreement. "Isn't that cheesecake the best thing ever created?" He leaned down again, shaking his head before demanding entrance to your mouth with his tongue. "No," he panted as he pulled away. "Your tongue is the best thing ever created." You dropped the rest of the cheesecake.
Somewhere between the cheesecake and the beer garden, you made the mistake of telling Nick of your fear of heights. Well, specifically your fear of the Ferris wheel. And now, a little bit tipsy on the beer, the deep fried sweets and a warm bodied Nick Miller behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, he nuzzles your neck and dares you, no DOUBLE dares you to go on the Ferris wheel with him.
"Nick..." you plead pathetically. "What are you, five? No. No sir!"
"Come on, it's the perfect time and place to get over this fear!", he says with a chuckle in his speech. "Just go on it with me. You can't bring me to a fair and not go on the Ferris wheel with me. What will they say Monday at school?", he teased.
You stomp your foot like a petulant three year old. He laughs and spins you around so you're face to face. "C'mon. It'll be fun. I'll hold your hand," he says, picking up both of yours and bringing them to his lips. He kisses your knuckles.
You almost slump to the floor because of his tenderness and like some love sick zombie you nod pathetically and follow him blindly to the entrance of the ride. He's holding your hand while giving the ride operator (who's missing most of his teeth, you realize in curiosity as you begin to come out of your love coma) the tickets with the other hand. Nick gets in first and motions for you to hop in beside him, on the inside seat. You take a deep (and shaky) breath, ignoring the way the seat swings carelessly on rusty bolts, and sit down. The bar closes and locks (loosely) over you both and off you go.
You make it a good 10 seconds before turning your face to bury it in Nicks chest so he doesn't have to see that you're crying. CRYING like a scared four year old little girl. Oh, god. This will ruin everything.
"Hey...", he whispers into your hair. "Oh, sweetheart, are you ok?" His arms envelop you and you nod your head. His body is turned towards you now as the Ferris wheel moves slowly and suddenly stops with your seat right at the top. You wait for the motion of moving again, but nothing is happening.
He whispers your name and dips his head to nuzzle his nose beneath your chin. "Okay, don't panic, but I think, yup. Um, we're stuck."
You grab a fistful of flannel in your hand before starting your countdown from 10.
"Hey," Nick whispers gently into your neck. You are completely embarrassed now and try to subtlety wipe your tears away on his flannel. "Sweetheart," he breathes against your ear as you hide your smile against his throat. Nick Miller is a romantic.
"I'm ok," you say with a weak chuckle. "I, I'm sorry. I just, ugh. Stupid...heights!" You bury your face in his chest again and breathe in his warmth and his scent and...yeah. You're ok. You're definitely ok.
Nick pulls away from you and tips your chin up so he can see your face. He doesn't say anything, just looks at you, his smile fading slightly, as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. You realize you're alone. Really. Alone. Maybe for the first time since you both decided to make this official.
Alone with Nick Miller at the top of a broken down Ferris wheel? You giggle quietly. This would only happen with him.
He leans closer to you again and brushes his lips against yours, one of his arms still securely around your shoulders and the other free to roam. The faint sounds of the fair beneath you do nothing to mask the way Nick is breathing, and when you decide to be bold and take his mouth for your own, the soft whimpering sound he makes echoes in between the both of you.
You kiss like that for a few minutes, your brain complete mush now as you faintly hear the sounds of people on the ground tinkering and fixing the Ferris wheel. They don't sound like they're in a hurry though, and you can't believe you're wishing they take hours.
Nick's free hand cups your shoulder, then traces down your arm until his fingers gently curl around the curve of your hip, a little exaggerated because your body is turned towards him. His tongue sweeps across yours again as his hand slides around your hip, dangerously close to your ass, and your reaction to even this slight touch almost embarrasses you.
Breathless with a passion for him you hardly know what to do with, you try to show him with your kisses that everything he's doing, hell ANYTHING he's doing is good. So good. Heights? Fear? Huh?
Without any doubt to fog your actions, every part of you wants him, and right now the only part you can get to is his mouth, his tongue, the line of his jaw, his throat, his ears...does every part of this man taste this delicious?
Nick chuckles low in his throat, and your nose bumps against him because you're kissing him there. You can feel his hand move to cover your ass now, and his palm is hot, even over the thin cotton fabric of your skirt that's conveniently riding up.
"Trust me, I've thought the same thing about you," he whispers, pulling you closer so your leg hitches up and over one of his.
"I said that out loud, didn't I?" you ask him, the realization making you blush.
He nods and grins at you, his smile infectious and you grin right back at him, feeling giddy and safe and falling for him so hard you swear he can hear the way your heart is pounding.
A cold ocean breeze swirls past you both and you shiver, snuggling in closer to him. You can feel his hand moving again, this time down your bare leg. "You cold?" he asks, the soft pads of his fingertips drawing swirls and circles up and down your skin.
"A little," you answer, trying not to ruin the moment by cursing yourself for not at least wearing a pair of leggings. Maybe subconsciously...you were hoping for...something...
He tilts his head down to kiss you again before leaning back.
"What are you doing?" you ask him, watching as he starts to unbutton his flannel. He shrugs it off his shoulders and drapes it over your legs, carefully settling back, now wearing only a thin gray t shirt. He pulls you back into the circle of his arms.
"That worked out well. You're cold and I'm burning up", he chuckles.
You're both quiet for a moment, and his hand finds its way back down to your waist again, over your hip, down to your ass, and you nuzzle him at the base of his throat.
"Are you getting kinky with me on the Ferris wheel, Miller?", you murmur against his neck before stretching up just enough to suck the spot just beneath his ear. He gasps, his fingers grasping at his flannel that's draped over you, tilting his head back, the carriage gently swaying back and forth lazily.
"So I think maybe I'm not so much afraid of heights anymore," you comment offhandedly, amazed at the scene before you: a panting, flustered Nick Miller, sighing softly underneath a clear Fall sky. He laughs before opening his eyes again to look down at you.
He whispers your name, almost to himself, and nuzzles the tip of your nose with his before sneaking in a kiss punctuated by a bite to your lower lip. The passion surprises you and when you bite back he growls warningly, his long fingers cupping you again, kneading your curves, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
It's quiet way up here on the Ferris wheel, calm almost, the crash of the ocean waves off in the distance, and you're not sure how you got so brave, but suddenly your fear of heights is light years behind you because your hand, the one resting on his chest starts to slowly slip down his stomach and underneath his gray t shirt and he's not stopping you, no, instead he's moaning into your mouth, the sound somewhere in between a giggle and a groan. Your fingers stop just over his heart and, god, you can feel it pounding beneath your palm.
"It's not really a secret anymore, is it?" he sighs as you kiss the spot over his t shirt. Before you can lift your face to ask him what he means, his hand moves underneath the flannel over your legs, those long fingers of his inching closer to your panties.
"That I want you," he murmurs against the corner of your mouth. His fingers move again. "That I've always wanted you."
Your hand curls into a fist underneath his t shirt. Is this really happening? He chuckles. You totally said that out loud.
You open your mouth to apologize and instead he sweeps his tongue across yours, and his fingers, his beautiful, long, soft and warm fingers slip beneath your panties and his breath catches to find you so wet, nearly soaked through.
"Oh, god. You're fucking beautiful," he whispers, slipping a finger inside you. You moan, your hand slipping out from underneath his t shirt so you can wrap your arms around his neck. He pulls you close. You're practically in his lap now.
Some part of your brain is still functioning when you ask him, breathless, "Nick...what if...I mean can't people see? I...I...oh god..."
He slips two fingers into you now and you fall back, his arm supporting you, and as he cradles you, he moves inside of you, gently, deeply, and when you open your eyes, your vision hazy, he's watching you, biting his lower lip, his eyes heavy with a passion you've never seen before.
"Nobody can see us," he reassures you, his thumb now circling your bundle of nerves. "I don't even care if they can," he corrects himself. "I want to see you come. For me. Please. Please," he begs you, his fingers moving faster. You press your lips together to keep your sighs and moans to a minimum. As far as anyone can tell from the outside world, you're just two young people clearly in love and maybe? It's time to get a room.
You need to taste him again, so you claim his mouth for your own and he rewards you by moving those beautiful fingers faster and faster inside of you.
"God," he whispers in between kisses. "I can smell you. I...please...let me taste you."
You're delirious with passion for this man and you almost feel drunk with love for him. "Taste? Me?..." you ask him breathlessly.
It's then when his fingers slip out of you and like a goddamn fantasy (one you might not ever admit to having because its so, well, dirty) he locks eyes with you as he slips his own fingers into his mouth, closes his eyes and sucks you off his skin like some kind of delicacy.
You watch him, completely frozen, trembling and hot and out of your mind with love for him and when he opens his eyes to look at you again, his fingers slipping from his mouth, down to your center once more, he kisses you deeply, and sighs, "You taste so much sweeter than I could have ever imagined."
"You...you've imagined this?", you ask, all coherent thought suddenly leaving you as his fingers begin to move inside you again, hitting that one spot that makes your entire body tremble.
He chuckles, the sound low in his throat as he brings you to completion, his mouth marking a spot on your neck as his own.
As you come back down to earth, your body limp in his arms, a thin sheen of perspiration over your skin, he slips out of you again, tasting you one last time on his fingers.
"I've imagined...a lot of things," he confesses. "But this? This is better than any dream of you could have prepared me for."
You blush, and kiss him and you can taste yourself mixed with the dark and rich taste of his own tongue and you sigh.
He pulls away to kiss the tip of your nose and nuzzles your neck, tucking his flannel around you like a blanket against the chilly ocean air.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you come?" he whispers against your ear, lazily running his tongue along the outline of your jaw.
You shrug, embarrassed, but pleased, and giggle. "Oh, Miller. You have no idea what things I'm gonna do to you when we get off of this Ferris wheel."
He laughs, and raises an eyebrow at you, practically leering, but with a love in his eyes that makes you catch your breath.
He gazes at you for a moment, before kissing you softly, his eyes growing bright in the dim starlight above you both.
"Promise me something?"
You tilt your head.
"Make sure you take our entire lives to show me."