Warning: Profanity, sexual references, and Jonesy being a horny teenage boy, lmao. This might be a hard T-rating.
Note: Named after Dua Lipa's "Hotter Than Hell."
A/N: I've always been curious about whether or not Nikki kept her outfit from "The List," so here's the result of that.
Why the hell does Nikki need me over so bad? Jonesy asked himself as he drove to her house. He racked his brain for possible answers.
All he knew was the obvious: she had given him a call (while he was on the toilet, no less) and asked him to come over her house as soon as possible. Of course, he would finish handling his business and make his way over there with haste—he'd be there for her whenever he could, that was his girl—but he hoped nothing bad would happen.
They weren't on bad terms… At least, he didn't think so. They last argued a couple weeks ago, but wasted no time engaging in a make-up make-out session afterwards. But that was their last conflict—unless he did something wrong that he didn't know about?
Nevertheless, he'd flushed the toilet, pulled up his pants, and got the hell out of his house, taking off in his car.
He eased his foot onto the brake when approaching a red light, only a right turn away from her neighborhood.
Come on, come on, come on, Jonesy urged, willing the traffic signal to turn green. Whatever Nikki needed to discuss with him, he wanted to rip that bandage off already.
The light finally changed and he bent the corner, riding down her street. Once he found her home, he pulled into her driveway and got out the car. He approached the front door, uneasy on his feet, hoping he didn't fuck up with her unknowingly. The last thing he wanted to be was on Nikki's bad side.
He swallowed his fears, tried regaining his natural self-assuredness, and pressed his finger against the doorbell.
He drummed his fingers against his leg, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
But he wasn't prepared for what greeted him when the door opened.
Nikki leaned against the doorway, striking a seductive pose.
His hungry eyes looked over every inch of her body, taking in every (relevant) detail. The amused smirk on her face. The pink halter top that clung to her upper body, her chest threatening to pop out of it. The blue miniskirt that left little to his overactive (and thirsty) imagination, showing off her short legs and plump thighs. The hot-pink heels that drew his eyes to her calves.
Holy shit, he thought, almost drooling until he remembered something. She had worn this outfit before. When she intended to end their relationship.
His horny fantasies died with that thought.
"Are you breaking up with me?" he asked, the first words he said aloud.
Her brow furrowed. "Hell no. What gave you that idea?"
"Well, you told me you needed me here ASAP. And you wore the same thing when you wanted to break up with me that one time," he said, reminding her that she eventually confessed that to him.
"Okay, fair enough, but, for the record, I'm not breaking up with you. I was gonna finally return this shit"—she gestured at her clothes—"but I decided that maybe we should have some fun first." She rubbed his arm, gently stroking it.
He purred. "We?"
"Yes, we," she said, grabbing his hand and leading him into her foyer. She closed the door and rested her back against it, giving Jonesy look so mischievous that it made blood rush between his legs. (She was so hot when she was up to no-good.) "I need you here because I can't have just anybody taking me out of these clothes."
Her words were even hotter.
Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Oh, really?" He inched closer and closer to her until their bodies made contact. They were chest-to-chest, face-to-face. "Well, I'm glad you chose me."
She chuckled. "Same here, Garcia."
Their lips met in a blazing kiss as he pressed her against the door, all too aware of his groin brushing against her. She flickered her tongue against his lips, hoping he would part them so she could deepen their kiss (which he did). Her hands played with his hair before rubbing on his chest through his shirt, so eager for him to lose it.
She tugged at the hem of it, breaking their kiss to lift it up and pull it over his head. Once she threw it to the ground, she wasted no time wrapping her arms around him and picking up where they left off, kissing him just as fiercely as before.
He couldn't believe he really thought that they were on thin ice, that she was going to break up with him. Oh, how far from the truth he was. He would've kicked himself, but that wasn't the priority now. The real priority was loving her down for the afternoon (and giving her some fond memories in that outfit).
His mind grew fuzzy as they went at each other in such a frenzy. He couldn't think straight. She was smoldering—hotter than hell—even more so when she took control like this.
Her soft lips traveled to his neck, giving him amorous kisses before sucking on his skin. Sucking hard enough to leave him with a mark.
"Nik." He groaned, unable to hide how much she turned him on. He didn't think it was possible to get harder. "You drive me crazy."
Her breath warmed his skin when she spoke. "Then I'm doing things right."
She proceeded to kiss on his shoulder, then down his chest, trailing her tongue along his abdomen. Her mouth was an inferno and she set him on fire.
Jonesy moaned her name as goosebumps formed on his skin. He wanted her to take off his too-tight jeans.
Of course, she stopped before doing so, because she loved to tease him, loved to bring him to his knees and make him plead for her.
This time, however, instead of pleading, he sought to take action by taking off her skin-tight halter top.
She pulled away from him, leaving him bewildered and frustrated.
"Nikki," he whined in a voice that made him sound like a spoiled brat. "Come on, babe. I'm just tryna take your top off. What do I have to do to get some second-base action? And third-base? And a whole damn home run?" He wanted his mouth on more than just her lips and hers on more than just his upper body, dammit.
"First of all, get rid of the stupid baseball analogies." She dragged her finger up and down his chest, looking him dead in the eyes when she said, "Second, let's take this to my room. That's the only way you get my clothes off."
"Oh, I'm gonna take you to more than just your room, baby." He gave her a kiss before sweeping her into his arms, carrying her bridal-style.
"Jonesy!" she exclaimed with a bright smile.
He smirked as he walked with her, carrying her up the stairs. "Yeah, you might not be able to return this outfit."
"What are you gonna do?"
He carried her towards her room, eager to do unspeakable things with her. "Oh, you'll find out, hot stuff."