A/N; I'm alive.
This is really RJ's story, as usual.
It's been like a year since I posted anything, so please forgive me for the bad quality.
I'm more a little bit rusty.
This is pure porn, and really, really sloppy.
It was hot.
The purple side string of her smallish bikini was repeatedly and relentlessly bouncing against her now tanned leg, the last few hours of unwavering sunshine having meticulously painted her skin in caramel.
She sighed as she was slowly and effortfully walking towards the nearby, beachside shower.
She felt like death.
The sun was scorching, the sharp rays prickling her skin like small, burning ant bites, and she was in an almost desperate need to cool down, both physically and mentally.
Ugh.
She didn't get it.
She was in literal paradise, she should be enjoying it, she should be...relaxed, but somehow, for some reason, or maybe only one in particular, she was anything but.
Anxiety, perhaps mixed with ambiguous anticipation, was literally running through her, sprinting in her veins, the winner of the race soon reaching her heart and inadvertently making it beat faster, so fast, too fast.
It was as if she was waiting for something inevitable to happen, realizing that it was unavoidable yet unsure of exactly when and where and how it would occur, and just as unsure of how she felt about it.
She knew that she would have to walk passed said reason on her way to her still too distant oasis, and as she was trying desperately not to look at it, at him, she tripped on one of her flip flops, loosing her balance for a split second or two before regaining it, then finding herself looking right at him, and somehow, although they were still yards (and worlds) apart, right into his eyes, almost as if he had been watching her all along.
She continued walking and he smiled as she passed him by.
Ahhhhhh.
He was so annoying.
Everything he did pissed her off.
Especially smiling.
In contrary to his badly written song, she didn't want to see him smile.
Or like, at all.
"It's... hot out here, huh?"
How did he manage to make even his voice annoying?
She didn't answer, as his eyes were wandering all over her, somehow making her feel almost completely naked, exposed, bothered...
She tried not to look at him and failed miserably.
He was so...gross, yeah, that was it, disgusting even, where he was laying, halfway on his back, like some sort of tall poster child for a Caribbean vacation, perhaps like the one they were currently on. He was nonchalantly leaned back on the beach chair, arms behind his neck, looking awfully relaxed while allowing the slight breeze to play with and ruffle the light, perfect length mop on his head. His short shorts were snug around his hips, his gross, gross hips, of course they were, and what even was that pattern, pineapples? She wasn't surprised, as it was definitely something he would wear, but it did not fit him, like at all, as he wasn't sweet.
And then there was a bare chest, and tanned skin, and a V, a V made out of more gross, lickable, tanned skin, and titties, bleh, and to top it all off, he was wearing a necklace, some hipsterish crap that he, of course, would be in to, the thin string moving against his bare chest every time he moved or as much as took a breath.
For some odd reason, she immediately wondered what it would feel like to outline in with her nails, let her fingers run over his muscles, leaving a light trail of lust down his tanned torso and...
Amazing how it suddenly became even hotter outside.
She hadn't thought that that was even possible.
So annoying.
She kept on walking.
They were there, in heaven on earth, for a wedding, as one of the behind-the-scenes workers from the show was tying the knot.
She had looked forward to reuniting with numerous people that she hadn't seen for a long time, but she really, really, really had not expected him to show up.
She hadn't seen much of him for the past few years, running into him intermittently here and there, but not often enough to call it frequent.
She had kind of liked to pretend that she preferred it that way.
Initially, Raini had been her date, but she had had to stand her up last minute for some work related thing.
So there she was, literally flying solo.
And apparently, so was he.
She hadn't been in paradise for more than like a split second before he had disturbed her peace, as he was the first...thing she had seen once entering the luxurious hotel lobby of the upscale beachfront hotel.
He had smiled, an odd mixture of excitement and flirtatiousness, and their subsequent hug had perhaps lasted a little too long (or not long enough).
She had thought, or perhaps hoped, that it would be gone, it, that, whatever it was that somehow always managed to draw her to him.
And seemingly vice versa.
But nope.
No such luck.
She had tried to avoid him since then, completely unsuccessfully, as he somehow kept popping up anywhere she went, like some sort of unescapable shadow of her past, following her around like a stray puppy waiting to be thrown a bone.
And for the few, rare moments that he hadn't been physically around, he had still somehow managed to invade her head, keeping her thoughts hostage, and she was pretty sure she had even dreamt of him the previous night, and it was just so fucking...annoying.
She kind of wanted to throw some sand at him.
Or perhaps punch him.
Repeatedly.
In the balls.
If he had any.
From the looks of the almost too snug shorts he most likely did, though.
She wasn't completely sure of exactly what it was the annoyed her the most.
It could be the long looks, or the numerous and constant and overly sexual innuendos, or it could be his smirk, that smirk, the overly obnoxious one, or it could just be...him.
He was hot, she couldn't deny that, but he was also too cock(y), and about a thousand times above her allowed tolerance level for annoyance, and ahhhhh, he was just too...him.
She finally reached her destination.
The water was cold, colder than she had expected, but oh so refreshing, the stream soon running against her hot body, mercilessly rinsing of the heat along with a few grains of the almost snow white sand, replenishing her lost sanity a little bit more with each passing second.
She let the cool stream devour her skin, allowing it to drink her in one inch at a time, much like a dehydrated lover.
And then she felt as if something, someone, was observing her.
She opened her eyes, hoping but not necessarily expecting to see the nice ocean view, immediately seeing him instead, standing mere feet away, now nonchalantly leaned up against the nearby, low building, seemingly also drinking her in one inch at a time.
She was trying to pretend that it didn't effect her.
"What are you doing?" She somehow managed to sound as cold as the water that was still cascading down her body.
He smirked. Of course he did. "I'm just waiting for...my turn."
The smirk somehow got even...smirkier, and it wasn't as if she didn't notice the tone of his voice, the tone that made it obvious that he was talking about something entirely different than the shower, although he did sound in need of water, because he was clearly thirsty, so very thirsty.
He continued to stare at her, as if she was the drink he was in need of, and as if he was sure that, if permitted, she would be the best thing that he had ever consumed.
Come to think of it, he seemed hungry, too, he was all but licking his damn lips, as if he was ready to eat her (out), and she could vividly picture actual drool coming out of his stupid mouth.
Gross.
It would still be an improvement compared to his usual word vomit, though.
She was soaking wet.
So annoying.
Good thing she could pretend that the shower was an excuse.
"You're such a...stalker."
He just shrugged, perhaps because he was most likely and since long immune to her very lame insults, the broad shoulders moving erratically, much like her pulse, as a result.
No gym her ass.
"Please, don't pretend like you mind."
She ignored him by simply turning around in the shower, although she wasn't sure him staring at her ass would make her feel any more comfortable.
Even if it was fitting, as he was one.
She took her time, although the shower was suddenly not as refreshing, leaving him hanging for a few more minutes before stepping out of the shower.
He didn't seem to mind, which she guessed made sense, as she had left him hanging plenty of times before.
"It's all yours." Her voice was still ice.
He was smiling as he was walking towards the shower and her, his dumb dimples on full display while he was wiggling his stupidly perfect eye brows. "I wish."
That was it.
Enough.
She was done.
She turned towards him. "Let's go."
He was close now, only a step or two away, and although he was still moving, it was clear that she had thrown him off track.
"Wha...what?" He looked confused, and hot, and all sort of adorable, much like the character that had first brought them together years before.
"Let's go, let's do it, let's do whatever it is that you have been insinuating for the past 24 hours."
(Or perhaps the past 10 years.)
She could see that she surprised him, as he had undoubtedly expected her to keep up her regular cock-blocking routine that she had perfected to a tee, his face painted in confusion, and hesitation, as he was clearly unsure of what to do.
It reminded her of the good old days, on set, reminded her of their years long flirtatious dance, the dance that had never led to anything but yet always kept them on their toes, and too frequently left her exhausted.
He continued to just stare at her, still quiet, still...annoyingly adorable.
"That's what I thought." Now, she couldn't help but smirk.
She turned around and had already taken a few steps away from him, having just finished wrapping the oversized resort towel around her waist, when he grabbed her, then quickly pulling her into the back of the low building he had leaned up against a few minutes prior.
She dropped the towel and didn't even have time to breath before he pushed her up against the hard wall, his arms on each side of her shoulders, keeping her imprisoned as he inadvertently caged her in up against it, him invading her space and her senses.
His almost heavy breathing was making her dizzy, instantly, and as he continued to just stare at her, while looking a bit pissed off and a lot turned on, she could feel that she was getting literally weak in the knees.
So annoying.
A minute passed, as they continued to just look at each other, a few inches apart, breathing each other's air and each other.
She suddenly realized that she was playing with his necklace, almost automatically, as if she couldn't help it, as if she couldn't stay away, fidgeting with it while their eyes became a combined melting pot of sexual energy, her fingers slightly running against the skin on his bare chest.
It felt...
Crap.
She lost their staring contest, looking away, her nose soon too close to his neck, immediately breathing him in while simultaneously breathing on him, letting her soft air tickle his neck from mere millimeters away.
He smelled good.
Crap.
"Don't do that." His voice was low, and oddly passive aggressive, as if he was trying to restrain himself from doing something (someone) he wanted to, but kind of knew he shouldn't.
She reestablished their eye swimming. "Do what?" Feigned innocence was one of her numerous and useful talents, especially around him.
She wondered what his lips would taste like.
"You know exactly what." This time around, he looked away, breaking their eye contact but not their physical one, another minute or two passing before she moved ever so slightly, in an attempt to take a step away from him. "Nothing has changed, huh? You're still all talk and little actio..."
He almost slammed her back up against the wall, roughly, nearly knocking the air out of her, her back once again pressing into the hard concrete, his whole body pressing up against hers.
At first she thought he was going to just do...nothing again, but then she felt his nose making contact with her body, like a descending airplane on the landing strip of her neck, flying slowly but all over her sensitive surface, his lips following close behind.
It was soft at first, his mouth barely touching her, his short breath merely a cautious whisper on her skin, carefully making its way up towards her mouth, one almost painfully slow inch at a time, until he finally reached her face.
He seemed to hesitate for a second, his eyes once again swimming in hers, seemingly trying to gauge her...feelings? before he apparently found the answer he had been looking for and greeted her tongue in an intense welcoming dance.
It was slow at first, his lips soft on hers, still hesitant, and then suddenly not slow at all, but yet it was more intimate, and even better, than she had expected.
His lips were flavorful, he tasted like summer and beach and 10 years of longing, and he was more intoxicating than the fruity drink she had left half-finished at the beach, his tongue hard yet soft, just like him, and it was somehow...amazing and...not at all annoying.
He deepened the kiss, or maybe she did, or maybe they both did, before he lifted her up, ever so slightly, his big hands covering her ass, making their ridiculous height difference slightly less noticeable, her legs soon wrapped against his waist and their movements inadvertently deepening the kiss even further.
Not that she minded.
They kept on making out, like the teenagers they were when they first met, tasting each other, his bare skin pressing up against hers in all the right and wrong places as their tongues continued to dance, and she was pretty sure that he was about to fuck her up against that wall when she heard him growling something in her ear.
"I'm about to rip that fucking bikini off of you."
He was breathing hard as his fingers continued to roughly outline the flimsy bikini bottom material, playing with the now not so tightly tied side string, tugging on it ever so slightly while continuing to mumble in her ear.
"You need to leave or we will need to go somewhere else."
She kissed him again, one last time, before slightly pushing on his shoulder and he immediately put her down.
Her legs were a bit wobbly, unsteady, much like her heart rate.
"Bye." She was waving her fingers ever so slightly as she left him behind, heading back towards the beach, looking over her shoulder to make sure he was looking.
He was.
His face was one of pain, and perhaps longing, and she couldn't help but enticingly smile at him before she continued walking.
Being a tease was fun.
She wasn't entirely but pretty sure that she wanted him to follow her, and she had only walked a few yards when she could feel rather than see that he caught up to her, not touching her but walking so close behind her that he might as well could have been.
She wasn't sure of exactly where they were heading, but it was surely into, for them, unknown territory.
They reached the beach and continued walking, not side by side but rather him still slightly behind her, the wind playing with her still damp hair, the outside temperature definitely having risen a few more degrees since she had abandoned her previous resting spot.
They had just passed by one of several ocean-facing, small cabanas when she finally felt her arms around her, pulling her into one of them, and she didn't even have the chance to as much as glance around before his arms were tightly wrapped around her, embracing her from behind, his nose running against the back of her neck as he pulled her hair to the side, tugging on it ever so slightly in the process.
She could feel him grow harder against her back, his body pressed into hers as he continued his mission, outlining every part of her neck, painting it with his wet mouth, leaving behind a trail of small goosebumps along with desire, and she was surprised that she was still standing straight, as her legs were still wobbly.
She pulled away to take a few steps towards the nearby, towel-covered and long lounger, then turning around and pulling him towards her, by the necklace, until he was not just next to her, but pushed up against her.
He reattached his lips to hers and started to walk her backwards, soon pushing her down on the lounger, breaking the kiss for a second and greeting her to a small, almost shy, smile before he lounged himself on top of her and continued to orally explore her.
His much longer body was completely and amazingly covering hers, his breath rippling on her skin, and she was, oddly, very not annoyed at all and very turned on.
Her hips were moving, rolling up against him, his hard dick now poking her leg, making her even wetter with each movement, both her hands intertwined in and pulling on his hair.
He broke their latest kiss and she almost literally whined out loud.
"Take it off or I will." He was nodding towards her bikini top.
She didn't comply, but instead, by no will of her own whatsoever, she reached up and licked his neck.
"Fine." He chuckled slightly as he ripped it off, in one quick pull, throwing the thin material onto the sand below, before leaning down and teasing one of her nipples with his tongue, flicking it, making it hard, then moving on to the other, her moans growing louder with each lick.
Fuck, he was good at this.
She was in the middle of the production of yet another one of her numerous, probably too loud noises, when she suddenly realized something.
"What if...what if someone walks by?" Her voice sounded funny, like she had been running or something
"What about it?"
"They could...see us".
"So?"
Her nipple was back in his mouth, his fingers running over the side of her body, as if her ribs were strings and his hands were their skillful player, and she got distracted for a minute before speaking again.
"What if someone can...hear us?"
"What about it?"
"It's...embarrassing."
He laughed.
She liked it. A lot.
Fuck.
"Then I guess you'll have to be quiet". The smile turned into a smirk as if he knew that that would be completely impossible.
As if to prove his point, he attacked her neck again, a gaspish noise immediately escaping the prison of her mouth and soon running free in the hot air.
He stayed put for a few minutes, working his magic, until he moved on to her collarbone, playing with it in an improvised round of sexual tickles, his fingers once again fidgeting with her bikini strings, tugging but not yet untying them, and she was unsure of whether he or she was the one growing the most impatient.
He returned to her face, biting her lower lip ever so slightly, the unexpected roughness making her moan, and then she moaned again as he finally started to slowly untie the bikini bottoms, one side at a time, letting his fingers run over her hips in the process before reaching down and sliding them off from underneath her.
And then he stopped, where he was above her, his ripped arms flexed on both sides of her, him running his eyes all over her, just looking, as if in aw, as if she was a goddess and he was ready to worship her.
With his dick.
He let a single finger run down her body, from her neck to in between her legs, just resting it there for a minute before touching her, lightly, rubbing her in small circles, without breaking their eye contact for even a split second.
She was getting wetter and wetter, and they both gasped when he slowly pushed a finger inside of her, then pumping her a few times, his long digit moving in and out of her.
He kissed her again before he let his mouth follow the previous trail of his finger, exploring her skin inch by inch, making his way down, spreading her legs apart and positioning himself between them, breathing on her before licking her for the first time.
And then he was running his tongue all over her, slowly at first and then increasingly faster, again and again and again and again.
"Fuck you taste good." His tongue was massaging her, his fingers continuing to follow suit, and suddenly she didn't give a flying fuck if anyone could hear them, as she was pretty sure it would be absolutely impossible for anyone not to.
His finger continued pumping her, deeply, his tongue all over her clit, her now biting her own lip in an attempt not to scream out loud.
"Cum for me Laura."
He continued to lick her, over and over, the tip of his tongue a god damn investigator of her drenched crime scene and all she wanted was for him to enter it, explore it, solve the mystery of the missing orgasm.
And then he suddenly found it.
Her body was vibrating, in uncontrollable seizures, over and over, long moans exiting her mouth at the same rate his tongue continued to lick her, drinking her in one wonderful, orgasmic wave at the time, her fingers fisting his hair in harsh handfuls.
She had barely finished before she moved and got up, pulling him to his feet, then roughly pulling down the pineapples, letting them join her bikini in the sand, before pushing him back down on the lounger.
He was looking at her, a hard to read expression on his face, as she kneeled down on the sand, spreading his knees apart, his hands now in her hair, her immediately sliding his long dick into her wet mouth, once inch at a time, licking him, enjoying him, tasting him, teasing him.
It didn't last long, maybe a minute or two, the head of his cock hitting the back of her mouth, over and over, until she knew he was about to literally explode, his hands fisting her hair, his grip on her tightening with each consecutive suck.
He pulled her off of him, almost literally lifting her up and pushing her back down on the soft lounger, him all but soft on top of her, sloppily embracing her, before entering her in one hard thrust.
His fingers were digging into her hips while a long moan, possibly some sort of version of her name, was echoing in her ear, and she couldn't even think, the sensation of him literally filling her completely taking over, her no longer caring if anyone could see or hear, her body meeting his every thrust while leaving long scratches of passion down his suntanned back, as he continued to mercilessly slam himself into her, a little bit harder each time, a little bit deeper, his large hand covering her mouth in some sort of unsuccessful attempt to quiet her down.
She licked his fingers, them soon in her mouth instead of covering it, her sucking on them, one at a time, the fingers moving in between her lips in the same rhythm as his dick, and she knew she was getting closer with each move, with each shove.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, pushing him even deeper, then cumming again, her pussy hugging him in tight contractions, his dick the epi-center of her violent and lengthy eruption.
He waited until she was almost finished, allowing her to ride out her high in slowing combustions, until he finally lost control, pumping her hard, sloppily, wonderfully, filling her while biting her shoulder, tugging on her hair as he screamed his orgasmic mantra of FUCK and her name into her neck.
And then it was suddenly quiet, except for his heartbeat beating hard against her chest, their sweat mixing into a community pool of physical satisfaction, their breathing slowing down at the same rate, and none of them moving.
Wow.
She waited a few minutes before getting up, feeling dizzy as his arms unwrapped her body when she moved, almost as if she had had too much to drink, and now the intoxication was over, and the hangover was galloping towards her head, making it hurt.
The no longer functional bikini was a sad cadaver on the sand, a fitting metaphor for how she currently felt.
He still had not moved.
"So much for all talk and no action, huh?" He sounded odd, perhaps...worried?, and somehow, despite what had just transpired between them, she felt embarrassed, her cheeks surely turning red.
She reached for and wrapped herself up in a nearby towel, not looking at him before quickly leaving, heading back towards her pricey hotel room.
She heard him call after her as she walked over the hot sand.
"See you...around?" He sounded hesitant, and she wasn't sure if it was meant as a question.
Either way, she answered it with a non-answer.
She didn't really know what to say.
...
There was a small mark on the side of her neck, blueish, about the size of a mouth, obnoxiously reminding her of the afternoon...adventures, as she was trying to get ready for the wedding.
There was no way of covering it up, she had tried everything, different hairstyles, makeup, even a different dress.
Nothing worked.
Typical.
She desperately wished that she had brought a scarf, but of course she hadn't, because who the fuck would pack a scarf for a tropical wedding.
She had spent the afternoon getting ready, trying not to think of him and therefore only thinking of him.
So annoying.
...
She was uncharacteristically nervous as she finally entered the venue.
For no specific reason whatsoever.
He was the first thing she saw, of course, and it was almost as if she had some sort of physical reaction, his pull on her clearly not having lessened at all.
So annoying.
He was wearing a tux, looking like a few thousand bucks, his hair neater but equally pullable as earlier, and he looked even better than he had while fucking her brains out just a few hours prior.
He was sitting on the other side of the aisle, and if he was looking at her he did an outstanding job of being discreet, as their eyes didn't even meet once.
Not that she was looking at him, or anything.
She wasn't even entirely sure that he knew she was there.
It was a nice ceremony, she was sure of it, but she was too distracted to memorize any major details, her head full, her mind spinning.
...
They were at the reception, and as with everything else when it came to him, she was both relieved and disappointed that they were not seated at the same table.
She kept busy, catching up with everyone and anyone, trying not to look at him and thereby of course, ending up with not being able not to.
He had lost the jacket, his dress shirt sleeved semi-messily rolled up on his arm, engrossed in conversation and not paying any attention to her whatsoever.
So annoying.
And then he was suddenly right next to her.
Next to was not her favorite preposition.
She preferred on.
Or maybe in.
He was standing close, too close, their arms touching, his skin warm against hers, none of them moving, none of them saying anything.
She waited him out, in a prolonged round of the quiet game, before caving in.
"What do you want?" She didn't sound quite as nonchalant as she had ."
She shook her head but couldn't help but smiling. "Why are you even here?"
"Because I knew that you would be."
She was waiting for him to wiggle his eye brows, or laugh, or smirk, but nope.
No wiggling, no laugh, no smirk.
He was serious, perhaps the most serious she could remember ever seeing him.
She looked at him while raising an eyebrow, an unasked question that she knew he would hear.
He didn't answer out loud, but surprised her by grabbing her hand, his fingers soon intertwined with hers, in a braid of reassurance, squeezing her hand a bit, and by that giving her the exact answer she was looking for.
She smiled again. And again.
It was going to be a good night, because it, them, they, finally made sense.
