Oh Trix.
Jim ran a hand through his red hair, his phone dropping onto the bed beside him. Her message played over again in his head, and he pictured her—those bright, teasing eyes, tousled curls. His girl was going to drive him fucking insane.
She was just too clever for her own good.
Trixie knew exactly what she was doing. At first, Jim thought it was him. His innocent Shamus, gifting him that perfect smile. She wasn't trying to take his breath away, but she did anyway.
But eventually, Jim realized that Ms. Belden was doing it on purpose. They'd go out for dinner in White Plains, and when Jim politely asked what she wanted for dessert, she'd bite her lip, tilt her head ever so slightly, those blue eyes piercing into his mind, into his deepest, darkest thoughts. That look that she gave him.
Jim would flush, mentally chastise himself for the images of him, and her, somewhere else and with way fewer clothes on. Stop it, Frayne, he used to tell himself. She's barely eighteen, for heaven's sake.
Or the weekend he came home at the end of the semester, when she just finished her last exam and those four years at Sleepyside Junior Senior High were behind her. His spring course ended around then, too. He drove back into town and parked his car outside Crabapple Farm, and it was a good thing that no one else was home because the way she kissed him on that driveway would've gotten him shot.
That summer was even worse. Jim tried. He tried to be the good guy, to stay firmly on the right side of the line. They went for a picnic that time in the game reserve, tied the horses to a tree and spread a blanket across the mulch. Somehow he eventually ended up on his back as she lifted his shirt off his shoulders, her legs wrapped around him and her lips sweet like lemonade. It's as if she didn't know what she was doing to him. But she did.
Before the beginning of the girls' first year at NYU, the Bob-Whites had had one last lunch at Wimpy's. Burgers, fries. Trixie looked at Jim from the corner of her eye, sipping her milkshake slowly from a straw.
While everyone else was deep in conversation, she put a small hand on his lap, above his knee, higher than was decent, leaning in so he could feel the warmth of her. She whispered something low in his ear about seeing if her mouth tasted like strawberries, and Jim knew that Brian and Mart and Di and Dan and Honey saw just how red his face went.
With every giggle, every sly look and soft touch, Jim's resolve was weakening. A couple weekends ago, Trixie had managed to get rid of everything except his briefs, her bra and panties. Of course it was his fault, too. He kept telling himself, five more minutes. He could enjoy the feel of her smooth skin against his hands and those golden curls tickling his nose and the way she pressed into him in all the right places for five more minutes before he put an end to it.
Just as her fingers traced a line at the edge of his last piece of clothing, slipping teasingly beneath the top of the fabric, he gently grasped her hands and lifted her off of him and told her, his voice low and raspy, that they had to stop now or he knew he wouldn't be able to.
The way she looked at him, all warm and so fricking disappointed, made a feeling rise up in his chest. He helped her pull her clothes back on, hands lingering, and kissed her hard before she left.
Mr. Honourable was feeling a little less than honourable these days.
And so here he was, just after his last class before the fall break. Miraculously, he only had a single paper due next week, which he was almost finished. He was just thinking about how he missed her smile when his phone beeped, and her name popped up on the screen.
Jim. I'm getting tired of you not realizing that I want to.
Shit. Jim knew what she was talking about, and it made his head hurt. He couldn't help but imagine it, what it would be like. Not that he hadn't wondered many times before.
What the hell was stopping him? He respected her, that's what. No way was he going to bring it up and make her feel forced.
But Trixie was an adult. He couldn't keep pretending that he didn't notice—all her sly tricks and innuendo and the way she looked at him, the way her heavy breaths fell onto his face when they were kissing each other, the parts of his body she came close to touching before he made them stop.
With a sigh, he dialed her number and let it ring, pressing the screen to his ear. The line picked up and he could hear her silent breathing.
His voice was rough, low. "Trix, baby."
"Jim." Oh, she sounded like she was ready to stick it to him, but just hearing her made his heart race like it always did.
Silence. "I don't know what to say to you, Shamus," he breathed.
"Well, think of something. I've had enough of waiting for you to catch on." She huffed, irritated. "I'm not a child, Jim."
He pictured her curves, the way they fit beneath his hands. "Of course you're not, Trixie. I'm…" A pause. "I'm sorry for not having this conversation with you sooner."
He could hear her deflated sigh on the other end, pictured the fight leave that beautiful, freckled face of hers. "It's about time, James Winthrop Frayne." There was a shyness in her voice, and it made him smile just a little.
Here we go. "Trixie," he began, willing himself to say the right thing, "I never wanted to ask you because, I figured you'd let me know when you were ready." And I guess I was right. "I didn't want you to ever feel pressured, Shamus."
She was quiet for long enough that Jim thought he'd done something wrong. "Mr. Honourable," he heard her mutter, and he might have imagined the subtle laughter behind her words. Eventually, her soft voice asked, "Did Brian leave yet?"
He knew everything that was implied in that oh-so innocent tone of hers. Brian had an internship with a hospital in Boston lined up for over the break. He would be out of town for the next week, and Jim had their apartment all to himself. Damn it, Trixie. If only she saw the way she was making every piece of him restless, warm, wanting. She was playing with fire, more than she knew. "He left this morning, Trix."
More silence. Jim thought he could, impossibly, hear her beating heart on the other side of the line. Finally, her breathy voice asked hesitantly, "Do you not want me, Jim?"
"Oh, Shamus." He couldn't bare the thought of her thinking that there was something wrong with her, that he didn't think of her that way. I want to devour every inch of you, Trixie. "I can't believe that you don't realize how fucking incredible you are, Trixie." He wanted to make sure she believed it. "I think about it every damn day, baby."
Again, she was silent. Now Jim was worried that he'd scared her.
"Really?" she asked, and it made Jim's heart ache to hear how surprised she sounded.
"Trixie," he exhaled. "If you don't believe that I think you're the most beautiful woman on this earth, then I've been a terrible boyfriend."
He needed her to understand what exactly she meant to him. He couldn't comprehend that she didn't know it already.
He waited what felt like hours, hearing only the sound of her breathing through the phone.
"Will you show me, Jim?" she said finally, her voice paper thin, soft as a feather. It made the blood pound in his ears, and he couldn't help the little groan that escaped his mouth.
Of course he had to ask. "Are you sure, Shamus?" At this point, it might kill him if she wasn't.
"I'm positive, Jim." She waited for a moment. "Please?"
Fuck.
"Baby," he muttered, praying for strength. "I need to go pick up some protection."
She shuffled for a moment on the other end before saying, "I'm on the pill, Jim."
He nearly choked. How long had she been thinking about this? It was as if she read his mind, because she said dryly, "Don't be so surprised, Frayne. I have needs, you know."
And he was planning on taking care of every single one of them.
The entire drive over, Trixie's skin tingled with anticipation. She'd finally gotten up the nerve to just say it, and boy was she glad she did. I think about it every damn day, baby. He wasn't the only one.
Hearing Jim say those things made her even more sure that she wanted this. After all, a girl could only wait so long.
For some reason, she wasn't nervous. Her heart was racing but it was because she was excited, ready. She let herself imagine the two of them twisted together, hands and mouths everywhere. They even had the whole weekend.
On her way out the door, she told Honey and Di not to wait up for her tonight. She didn't stick around to hear what they had to say after their jaws hit the floor.
The elevator ride felt like an eternity. It only took a couple moments from the time she knocked on his door for it to swing open, and just the sight of him, messy red hair and crooked grin and those sparkling green eyes made her stomach jump, sent the butterflies into overdrive.
Without a second thought, she tumbled into his open arms, weaved her fingers into his hair and let his mouth on hers tell her everything he felt, everything he thought, all the ways he loved her. His hands clutched her hips, her chest pressed flush against his, and even through the layers of cloth her skin burned, she wanted to be closer.
He tilted away for a moment, panting, his nose running softly across hers. "Are you sure, Trixie? Because, if you don't want this, you should tell me now bec—" She silenced him with her lips, their tongues tangling and whatever protests he was about to make easily forgotten.
Her fingers sneaked beneath his t-shirt, lifting it up and over his shoulders, discarding it in a pile on the floor. She guided his hands, slowly, helping him with the buttons of her blouse and then with the tight camisole underneath. Their heavy breaths forced the skin of their bare stomachs together, and the feeling was like electricity running through Trixie's veins. She wanted more of it. She didn't want it to ever end.
Just as she began to undo the clasp of his belt, she felt her legs leave the floor and she let out a breathless giggle, watching the shadows of his handsome face as he carried her to his bedroom, depositing her back on her feet and locking the door behind them.
The way he was looking at her, that intense, smoldering, open-mouthed expression on his face, made her feel powerful and completely weak all at once. She stepped back from him quietly, meeting his gaze. Another step away, towards the bed.
She watched him carefully as she fingered the button of her jeans, sliding down the zipper, then letting them fall to the ground. He was mesmerized, didn't even blink.
"Shit, Trixie," he mumbled, his gaze sliding down her from head to toe, lingering on the blue scraps of fabric that were the same color as her eyes.
She bit her lip, slowly sitting back onto the bed, her fingers resting against the grey duvet, willing him to come closer. Now it was her turn to stare. She took in the muscles of his broad chest, imagined them straining as he hovered on top of her. Mm. Her eyes followed his fingers as they deftly slid his belt from the loops and then took off his jeans. She couldn't help it when her lips parted into an O at the sight of him in only those black briefs. They hugged his lean form, the outline of what was underneath sending a pool of heat and liquid want low into Trixie's gut.
When she finally met his gaze, she saw that he was asking her, once again, silently, if this was okay. "Jim," she whispered, tilting her head to the side. "Are you going to touch me now or what?"
And when he smiled that lopsided smile, taking her softly in his arms and resting her head to the pillow and letting the length of his body sit gently on top of hers, she knew this couldn't be more perfect.
At first, he kissed her slowly. He brushed aside those curls, trailing his lips and nose down across her cheek, her chin, her neck, placing an open-mouthed kiss against her soft skin and hearing the sigh escape her. When she brought her legs up, parted them slightly around him, he let out a moan into the crook of her shoulder because he could feel the heat at the centre her thighs, the space between them pressing into him where he was hard for her.
"Oh, Jim," she sighed, her warm breaths a flutter against his ear. He watched the material of her bra strain across her full breasts, little peaks in the center of them raised beneath the fabric. She rested her hands against his strong shoulders, trailing them down his arms, lifting herself off the mattress and even closer to him. "Help me take this off, will you?"
She helped him patiently as he fumbled with the clasp, their chests rising and falling with rapid breaths. He slowly slid a strap down one shoulder, then the other, and Trixie let it fall away and sighed breathily as the cold air hit her bare chest, her nipples stiffening, aching for him to touch her.
It made her so indescribably satisfied to see the awe on his handsome face, the way he seemed to take in every inch of her, to never want to look away. She kissed him chastely, and when her naked chest touched his, it took her breath away. "You are so incredibly beautiful, Trixie," he said against her lips, and she believed him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they kissed until the feeling of their bare skin pressed together wasn't foreign anymore, until he pulled away and she nodded and his fingers touched the tips of them ever so gently, and she let out a wanton gasp. Her hands tugged at his hair, drawing his lips down her neck, lower. When she felt his mouth on those soft parts of her, she pressed herself into him and whispered his name.
Trixie knew there weren't any words to describe the way this felt, the way her skin ignited from his fingers and those rough hands and his warm mouth. She sensed the space between her thighs growing slick, wanted to feel him there too. When she pressed her legs around his so that the center of her pressed against the center of him, they both let out choked breaths, arching away from the mattress and into each other.
Jim's hands ran across her arms, her waist, her hips. She clutched his broad shoulders and then slowly guided his hand down her stomach, to the edge of lace below her belly. "Jim," she pleaded, fascinated with how dark his eyes were as they watched her laying under him.
"Trixie," he mumbled, his forehead resting against hers. "Tell me if something doesn't feel right, okay, Shamus? Or if it does."
She nodded. There wasn't a single part of her that didn't want him, now, in this moment. He kissed her softly as his hand floated across the lace, to her knee, trailing slowly upwards against the inside of her leg and making her shiver. When his fingers found her there, damp even through the fabric, she let out a strangled cry.
Together they pushed her panties to the side, Trixie encouraging him with breaths and moans and nods as he slid a finger against her wetness, then inside, rubbing his thumb gently along her sensitive folds and listening to every sigh. It took less than a minute for them to drive her to her first orgasm. She cried out, her fingers tugging at his hair and pressing his face into her shoulder, then fell limp and panting beneath him.
Jim watched her as she came apart from his touch, thinking that it was the most magical thing he would ever see.
When her eyes fluttered open again, she found him looking at her with so much affection that her heart strained against her ribs. "Gleeps," she mumbled, brushing a hand through his thick hair. "That was…" Oh my. Better than her wildest dreams, and he wasn't even inside her yet. "Wow."
"Baby." He held her face, kissed her softly. "I love you so much, Trixie."
The heat from his skin was making her dizzy, but she had never felt so alive. "I love you, Jim."
The next part came easily. Together, they shed the rest of their clothes, until it was just them, the heat of their skin pressed against the cool sheets and each other. Jim tugged a blanket on top of them, took a moment to watch her beneath him, his special girl. It was really happening, and it was better than he ever imagined.
Trixie's hands held onto his strong forearms, her eyes meeting his, full of so many emotions she couldn't even begin to name. The most wonderful boy in the world. And oh, how true it was. All those years ago, she never would have known that this is where they'd end up.
Jim's patience was only so strong. He wanted this to be perfect for her. Except, she was completely naked, her skin soft and smooth and glowing, under him, and he could feel his hardness brush against the inside of her thigh, and there wasn't all that much longer he could wait before he completely lost it, ravaged her. But she deserved everything.
His hands clutched her warm curves, and their noses tilted and their lips found each other once more. Jim couldn't help but swear softly as she shifted beneath him, her legs parting, exposing the most intimate part of her to his throbbing length. "Trixie," he growled, and when he opened his eyes, he saw that she was smiling, laughter filling her flushed features. She was teasing him, after everything.
"Jim, I know you want to," she said hoarsely, holding his face in her palms. Her nose brushed tenderly against his, her hips and his lined up so that all he needed to do was give in, apply a little pressure, and they would cross the line.
He chuckled in spite of himself. "What gave it away, Detective?"
Her laughter filled his ears and she nudged his forehead playfully, then let out a moan. "Jim." Was that impatience he heard in her voice? Her hands rested on his hipbone, pressing into his skin. "Can you stop being so honourable and just fuck me?"
A laugh spilled from deep in his chest and onto her neck, his heart leaping into his throat. He didn't think he'd ever heard Trixie say that word before, and somehow it turned him on even more. His eyes gleamed. "Careful what you wish for, Shamus."
It was a wicked promise, it filled the center of her with a delicious, sugary mess.
Their eyes met, and he didn't need to ask and she didn't need to tell him. She tilted her hips and he thrust slowly, carefully, and as he entered her, Trixie cried out his name, clutching him to her tightly, their arms tangled around each other.
Jim was astonished by how wet she was, and the feeling of her body stretch around him, hold him tight, was so mind-blowing that he almost ended it right there. It took all his strength to calm down enough to take care of her, too. He watched her face for a sign of pain, didn't move once he was in all the way. "Are you okay, Trix?"
Her breaths caused her chest to rise and fall, and the way she looked under him, him inside her, was the most incredible thing he'd ever seen.
"Mhm." Her eyes were closed but she didn't look like she was hurt. "That… wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," she whispered, her lips parting. He shifted a little and she moaned, "Oh. Jim."
"Still okay?" His hands pressed into the mattress on either side of her head. He placed a whisper of a kiss on her collarbone.
Her eyelashes fluttered open and she met his gaze, her blue eyes so bright. "Can you move some more?"
He began a slow rhythm, never taking his eyes off her, that perfect freckled nose, her face framed by those tangled golden curls. His breaths came out in rapid, heavy bursts, and she panted beneath him, her hands at his waist, in his hair. She leaned in to kiss him, and their mouths moved together, their hips moved together, chests rising and falling with the same breaths.
"Shit, Trixie," he exclaimed, feeling the pressure rise and rise and rise. "How are you feeling?"
She let out a gasp, her face twisting with what Jim was pretty sure was pleasure. Her fingers tugged at his hair and she breathed, "That feels really good, Jim." He hit a spot that made her cry out.
It only took a couple more moments for him to feel her tighten around him, for her to feel him stiffen inside her. Trixie gripped his shoulders and Jim buried his face in her neck, and they finished together, crying out each other's names and seeing stars, waves of pleasure sending them high as the clouds.
The feeling of him emptying himself inside her was strange yet exhilarating at the same time. Trixie felt complete, somehow.
Her arms fell weakly onto the mattress and she nuzzled her head against his softly, his lips parted against the hot skin of her shoulder. The lay there for a minute, clutching each other and catching their breaths, feeling every little wave of it and letting their muscles relax again.
Eventually, he slid out of her slowly, frowning as she winced. Leaning on his side next to her, he brought a warm hand up to her flushed face, concerned. "Are you hurt, Trixie?"
Her head rolled over to face him, eyes fluttering. She shook her head a little, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "Only a tiny bit, Jim. That was…" She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the sheets beneath her. She could still feel the aftermath of it, that orgasm, somehow better than the first. Way better. "Holy guacamole."
His laughter vibrated through her skin. "Is that good?"
She shook her head a little. "No, Jim, that was… surreal. Just, amazing."
Trixie leaned onto her side so that she faced him, tucking her nose beside his. She could smell their sweat, the scent of what they had just done, and it was as satisfying as the subtle ache between her legs.
"Really?" He wanted to make sure she was okay.
When she giggled a little, he was sure. "Really, Jim. I… oh." Even remembering it made every nerve in her body light up. "I still can't quiet get over it."
His fingers brushed tenderly through her curls, and he planted a kiss to the top of her head. "Trixie, I..." He groaned, his forehead resting against hers. "I didn't even know something like that was possible."
Another giggle. "Me neither, Jim," she whispered, pressing her lips to his for a soft kiss. "To think you made me wait for so long."
She winked and he raised a dry eyebrow, a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. "That's enough of that sharp mouth of yours, Belden."
Her hand trailed teasingly down his hip. "You didn't seem to mind it five minutes ago, Mr. Frayne." Unbidden, a thought of what else he probably wouldn't mind her doing with that mouth of hers flashed across her mind, making her blush. Maybe another time, Beatrix.
"Five minutes ago, Ms. Belden," he began, shaking his head, "You could've asked me for anything and I would've said yes."
Trixie laughed a little, her eyes sparkling. "I'll keep that in mind for the next time I don't feel like cleaning tack, Jim." Trixie felt his laughter.
Jim slid the sheets up and over them, pulling Trixie's tired form to him and holding her tight.
It was still early in the evening, but she didn't think she could move from his bed, not right now. Certainly not after all that.
It didn't matter what time it was, or that the lamp was still on. Trixie yawned, so did Jim. She leaned into him, loved the feeling of his warm, heavy arms around her, their bare bodies stuck together beneath the covers.
And to think it was just the beginning.
A/N:
Thanks for reading! I wrote that all in one go and couldn't seem to put it down. Please let me know what you think! Did you like how I characterized them? Was it a first time worthy of our two favourite characters? I hope so!
XOXO
TheDarkLady2017
