Exhausted, he didn't even bother to turn on the light. Schmidt had barely had a second to undo the last button of his lavender chambray button down when a gentle knock sounded on his door. He considered ignoring it; leaving whatever idiotic inquiry his roommates could possibly think was important en kids'ough to bother him with until daylight. But huffing a frustrated sigh, he left his black tie slung loosely over his shoulders and swung open the door.
"This better be important," he warned, matter-of-factly. "I need at least nine hours of solid rest and two hours of vigorous yoga each morning just to function at maximum Schmidt-ocity." Surprise washed over his features when he realized who was before him. He drank in the sight of a razzled Jess with his brow cocked expectantly. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair just the perfect amount of mussed that it was still sexy. Jess gulped as she pulled her wide ocean eyes off his bare chest and up to his ever perfect face. Her little black dress hung just above the knees, and, though not as scrumptious on her as it had been on Cece, gave her an air of charm with a few dashes of naughtiness. Amusement tickled his features as he noticed the large box of condoms cradled tightly to her chest, and her impossibly Rosey cheeks darkened further.
"I was jus-.." Jess cut herself off, a war waging heavy in her mind. As he watched the wheels turning, his lips tugged up into his famous cocky smirk.
"Just what Jess," he asked knowingly, sporting an overly dramatic grin, taunting her to take the bait. He wasn't totally surprised to see her practically begging to take a ride on the Schmidty Express.
'Just wanted to ask you for a good old fashioned one night stand,' she thought in her best old-timey gangster voice. The silence oozed with tension as she mentally chastised herself, because how could she possibly have stooped so low? This was Schmidt we were talking about. SCHMIDT! Yet, with her lungs heaving under the weight of her remarkably poor decisions she clung to whatever shreds of courage (if that's what we're calling it) she could find.
"Just thinking about your advice," she offered, looking everywhere but his eyes. "The one you gave to, yenno.. meeee." She motioned towards the front door. "Over there.. Aaaand how you said to just not think so much, and all that." Jess rambled on for what felt to her like an eternity, dragging out her words awkwardly. She was like a little bird, all wild-eyed and skittish. Schmidt leaned provocatively against the doorframe, wondering how far she would let this go on before she changed her mind and fled. When his pink tongue darted out to wet his lips, Jessica's eyes followed the motion hungrily, her skin crawling and crackling with electricity. He could practically taste the desire radiating off her, but still he remained there, unwavering hazel eyes prodding for why she was there, at HIS door. Wide, baby blue irises seemed to be wondering the same.
"It's good advice," he simply stated, glancing minutely at the floor. When he swooped his head back up to peer into her face, he shot her his best moneymaker smile. Though she'd seen it over a thousand times, in this moment it affected her MUCH differently. Jess inwardly cursed the ""dirty twirlies" writhing within her. She sucked in her lower lip, physcially holding back the forbidden words barely hidden behind her jumbled explanation. Jess clenched her eyes shut, blocking out the sensations pooling between her thighs, and the nearly shirtless devil before her. She tried not to smell his cologne, or hear his even breaths. She did her best to turn around and walk away, crawl into her own bed and just finish herself off before calling it a night. But with his words ricocheting through her mind and pink wine twirling about in her veins, she drew tentatively within bounds of his personal space. For a moment, neither dare breathe, the fire in their eyes burning hot enough to stop time in it's tracks.
"Someone I know," Jess murmured, alcohol tinged breath ghosting over Schmidt's chin. And he understood then just how much she trusted him, and How vulnerable this Beautiful friend of his was. Standing here before him in her little black dress, hair mussed from a night out with the wrong guy (maybe even the WORST guy ever?). There, at HIS door, of all doors. So when she moved in to kiss him, he let her, And he only imagined it was Cece for half a heartbeat.
When his arms encircled her waist and dragged her body flush against his, she let him, enchanted by his warm, exposed skin. He quickly tugged them backwards and into his dark room, kicking the door shut without their mouths ever breaking contact. Schmidt's expert hands slipped the tiny zipper down from the nape of her neck, revealing a wide triangle of her back. As he pressed her into the door, those same hands traveled up into her hair, down her jaw and to her shoulders. A low, needy moan purred from Jess, surprising them both. Schmidt hesitated and drew back to look into her eyes.
"You sure, Jess?" He kept his face washed of emotion, giving her a guilt-free ride in case she changed her mind and wanted to call off the whole thing. But in return he received a nervous smile and a tiny nod as she sheepishly brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Nervous quickly warped to mischievous, as she pulled her bottom lip between her glistening teeth, a small grin peaking from the corners of her mouth. She watched the honey drip from his eyes, replaced with a fiery dark desire. It was all the encouragement he needed, and he lunged for her again, crashing their swollen lips together. Tongues intertwined, exploring the heady flavor of lust and scandal, fingers fluttering over flushed skin. Jess whimpered musically as Schmidt worked his steady hands up her thighs, hiking one knee around his hips and bringing their bodies closer. She could feel his erection grinding into her, not quite where she needed it, but close enough to drive her nuts. His hands continued their upwards exploration, wrapping around her waist to grope her behind. She tangled her fingers in his silky, dark hair, reflexively tugging when she felt his hands dipping down between her thighs. As he inched his way to her core everything else stilled. He pulled back just enough to watch her reactions, and she couldn't seem to break eye contact, or breathe as he glides a finger over her wetness. For a moment she sees his eyebrows shoot up to the moon, because he totally expected there to be underwear. In her defense, he'd taken her to a club for the soul purpose of "lookin for some strange" merely hours before.
"Jessica Day," he exclaimed, completely scandalized. "You're breaking about seven household rules right now. SEVEN!"
Jess wiggled her hips slightly, moaning when she made him hit THAT spot. "We can talk about that later," she panted.
"You can sure bet we will! Clearly this loft is falling to hell, and it's high time we call a team meeting." Jess groaned loudly and tossed her head back against the door as his shrill voice pierced through the mood.
"Schmidt," she pleaded. The way she whined his name stirred something feral in him, and he began to move his hand against her folds with purpose. He ghosted the back of his index over her clit, gently massaging her nub until she moaned his name again. Schmidt revelled in the noises that escaped her when he laved his tongue over her neck, his teeth and stubble nipping at her pulse point. He felt the slight wobble in her legs when he palmed her breasts over the fabric of her dress. She was practically dripping for him as he teased and touched her, pure putty (quite literally) in his hands. He rubbed her softly, but relentlessly, studying her reactions until she thrashed her head side to side and came hard, leaning against the door to his room.
While she winded down, he spun them the short distance to his bed and sat her on the edge. When he kissed her again, it was unhurried and gentle, surprising them both. Her chest heaved widely as her lungs chased after air, trembles working throughout her pale limbs. Schmidt massaged her muscles tenderly, coaxing her back down to earth and whispering quiet hushes against her skin until she was lucid.
"Stand up," he ordered, sitting slightly on the bed beside her. Still dazed, she shot up from the mattress and stood before him. "Take off your dress." Something about his deep, commanding tone had her ready and wanting all over again, and heat spread through both her cheeks and her thighs. Jess slid the straps down her shoulders at an agonizing pace, the thin fabric falling to the floor. As it pooled about her ankles he hardened at the sight of her, entirely naked before him. Not that he thought about her boobs often, but they were bigger than he'd imagined them to be. The chaste, girlish outfits she usually sported did wonders to hide the flowing curves of her hips, and he didn't think he'd ever noticed how long her legs were. Jessica Day was more stunning than he'd given her credit for. He suddenly realized that she was watching him and blinked back at her. She was waiting for him. To tell her what to do. It was a notion that made his cock twitch.
"Come here," he rasped out, voice lower and gruffer than she'd ever heard it before. The intensity in his features suffocated any witty remark Jess might have thought up in a moment such as this, and She stepped out of her dress and forwards between his knees. With blazing cheeks she didn't shy away when he reached out and pulled her up to straddle his lap. He cleared his throat, eyes dark, and cupped both breasts, one in each hand. She shuddered against him as he tweaked her small nipples, dipping his head to run his tongue over each one. Jess reached down between them for his belt, the warmth of her knuckles brushing low against his stomach causing his breath to hitch. He sat back on the bed, propped by his elbows and stared down at her with a sly grin, watching her determinedly fumble with the clasp. He bit his lip and lifted his hips for her as she carefully tugged down his zipper and briefs, his fully erect cock springing free. He ate up the startled expression on her face, and gaped in awe. Not that she thought about it often, but he was more impressive than she'd imagined it would be. Jess sidled down to the floor, landing on her knees. Pulling his pants the rest of the way down his legs she tossed them aside. When she turned back to him her huge eyes never left his as she wrapped her mouth around him. With her porcelain face looking up at him, her lips just barely around the tip of his cock, he nearly came right then and there. Schmidt fisted the sheets as she worked her magic tongue over him, throwing his head back with a deep moan. Jess licked at the underside of his cock, wetting it before she took it deep down her throat. She moved slowly, her touches teasing and glorious. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she pushed down to the hilt, her nose burried in his crotch, and Schmidt battled the urge to buck his hips. One hand fisted roughly in her hair, though he wasn't sure if he wanted to pull her off or keep her there. When she withdrew, his eyes were clasped tight and his mouth in a wide "O" shape, and she beamed with pride. He tugged her up, and she climbed to straddle him again.
"Girl, I'm 'bouts to rock your world." Schmidt beamed his grandest, most brilliant douchebag grin from below her petite frame, and the word 'jar' nearly tumbled from her lips out of habit. Quick as a whip he shifted their positions, rolling their bodies until he was on top of her and he knees bent up around his waist. Jess let out a yelp, which morphed into a moan as he slid down her body, peppering her skin with hot wet kisses as he went.
When he reached her belly button, his stubble tickled her tummy and made her squirm and giggle.
When he reached her bare pantyline, his breath felt cool against her wetness, which made her eyes drift close and a throaty moan burst from her chest.
And when he slipped two fingers into her tight wet heat, rubbing vigorously at her g-spot with his tongue dancing over her clit, he made her cum harder than she ever had before.
Shcmidt used the time she needed to recover to quickly rummage through his pant pocket, snagging the condom in his wallet. As she blinked away the stars clouding her eyes, she laughed; a deep, heartwarming belly laugh. Never, in the history of Jess had she had two orgasms during a romp in the hay. And NEVER in all her wildest dreams did she think it would be Schmidt to give it to her. She pushed up on her elbows to look him in the eyes and tell him so, but was instead struck frozen at the sight of the rubber in his fingertips.
Schmidt was tossing and turning the condom in his hands, wondering heavily to himself:
'am I really doing this? This isn't just some girl, this is Jessica damn Day.'
He really did love her, in the way best friends adore each other. He cared for her, and about her, and he'd always hoped he never did anything to hurt her. Yet here she was laying in his bed, whimpering his name, coming undone upon his silken sheets. If merely trying to kiss her on his birthday was a solid fifty dollars in the jar, THIS would send him into bankruptcy and completely ruin his five-year plan.
".. Schmidt?"
Jess withered under his uncertainty, suddenly ashamed. What had changed? Maybe.. was it her? He hadn't said a thing, hadn't even looked at her, but the rejection whistled sickeningly through her ribs, roaring and clawing its way around the silence of the room.
"I should go.." Jess mumbled, covering her breasts with her forearms. She tilted her head down and her hair curtained her face, hiding the tears burning behind her eyes. As she shuffled about the room collecting her clothes he let her, wishing more than anything that she wouldn't hate him for thinking she deserved far better. He politely averted his gaze while she haphazardly tugged on her dress with trembling fingers, and bile rose up within the hollows of her throat. How funny he was to look away while she dressed, Jess thought, considering he'd already seen all of her. Hastily half-dressed and with a million and one doubts trampling her pride she snagged the box of condoms and slipped from his bedroom, closing the door as quietly as she could.
For a brief moment she contemplated barging back in, demanding to know what was so wrong with her that he couldn't stomach the thought of sleeping with her. And she might have, had it not been for the startling sounds of Nick's house keys clanging into the kitchen. With bulging eyes and almost comical disapproval he wrapped his large hands around her shoulders, shaking sense into her. What was she thinking; SCHMIDT!? And so when he called her a fool and told her 'No freakin way,' all but dragging her towards her own bedroom, she let him.