Any other day, I could hardly be displeased with such a wonderful view. Santana stood in the kitchen scantily clad as she leaned onto the counter. Taut calves flexed leaned up onto her toes for a better view. Taut thighs and glutes put on a show of their own with each motion beneath eyes reach of the gray t-shirt. Her abs were just out of my view but there was certainly plenty in my sight to make up for it. I let my eyes trace up to biceps, flexing with each motion. Finally, I settled on dexterous hands, skillfully doing the delicate work they were known too. Except that delicate work typically involved me. Instead, Santana was doing her best to put together the fan she'd bought just that morning.
"Fuck," she shouted, tossing the screwdriver down onto the counter, ignoring it as it fell to the floor with an audible thud.
That morning we were absolutely devastated to find out that our a/c had gone out indefinitely. After a less than pleasant chat with the landlord, Santana had convinced herself we would be fine without and settled to sleep through the suffering until the repairman arrived. In truth she hardly made it an hour before she'd pulled on a pair of shorts and headed out without a word to me. It didn't take long before she'd returned with a large box containing the fan she'd been trying to assemble for at least an hour and a half.
"Baby," I called, standing from my seat.
"No," she shook her head, although she kept it down between her arms.
"San," I assured, moving closer, although keeping my distance as I reached out carefully to touch her shoulder, "It's fine, the windows are open."
"It's not," she sighed, although I ignored when she tensed at my touch, "I should be able to put this stupid fucking fan together."
I ventured closer, although not more than I needed to slide my arm across her shoulders. Her skin was flush and slick with sweat, "Let's just sit down and you can try again later."
It was almost unnoticeable as she trembled, forcing herself to let go of her tension. She let go of a breath I hadn't realized she was holding and nodded. She'd certainly come a long way in letting go of the rage she usually retained, but I was glad I'd gotten to her before she could grown anymore upset.
Leading her to the couch, I ignored the shorts and shoes she'd haphazardly discarded on her way back into the house. I could hardly blame her.
It didn't even occur to me it probably wasn't the best idea to sit cuddled into her side as I normally would. "Sorry," I mumbled pulling away.
"You don't have to," she assured, slipping her arms over me.
"Don't be ridiculous Santana," I pulled away, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, "It's too hot."
She smiled weakly; almost ready to agree when a mischievous smirk crossed her face, "Then let's cool down."
I was ready to voice my complaints until she pulled off her shirt and moved onto all fours as she crawled my way.
"San, really," I squealed as she approached, pushing her back by her shoulder but that hardly deterred her.
She leaned over me anyway, smiling as I moved to lay back. "You're can't be comfortable in this," she mumbled as she fingered the pajama shorts I still wore.
"This really isn't conductive to remaining cool," I reminded, although the hands I had on her shoulders slipped around her neck easily.
"No," she shook her head, "it isn't." She leaned back on her knees, taking my shorts with her, "But if we're going to bake I'd rather do it like this than while watching you from opposite ends of the apartment."
I bit my lip and nodded as she tossed the shorts away. Her lead was easy to follow as I sat up, letting her urge my shirt off.
The heat was, of course, at the forefront of my mind, but I tried to ignore it as Santana's lips let met mine. She was far from forceful, but even when her lips moved so gently over mine, I could always count on the sharp sting of her teeth. My gasp was all the invitation she needed to trail her tongue along my lower lip. I sucked gently on the tip as she began exploring the all too familiar territory. Simultaneously her right hand traversed my body, cupping my hip before trailing up my side and meeting my breast warmly. Santana moaned at the taste of my own pleasure and I bucked up slightly, finally noticing our bodies had hardly even met yet. I opened my eyes, breaking the kiss, to see that Santana was still holding herself above me.
I barely had time to appreciate Santana's body hovering over mine before her mouth found a new target; her hair blocked my view as her lips attached to my neck. I had to restrain myself from loosening the messy bun she'd kept her hair in. I sighed as gentle nips were peppered along my neck, although not enough to leave a mark. I couldn't fight the urge as I reached up, urging my lover down and she was more than glad to oblige. Lips trailed gentle patterns over my breasts, never quite coming into contact with where I wanted them most. A hand slipped beneath my panties, gripping my hip when I finally felt the warmth I was hoping for on my nipple. The whimper that had been trapped in my throat escaped and I felt myself thrusting upwards in hopes of gaining more contact.
Santana always read me well. Of course, I hardly made it difficult at times like this. Teasing and games were always fun but Santana knew when it would be best to get to the main event. She sucked gently on my nipple before moving to give my other breast attention. I gripped her shoulders as her hand slid between my thighs, stretching the fabric gently. I rocked gently against her hand as adept fingers parted my lips and pleased curses escaped hers.
Once more, our mouths connected as Santana swallowed my moans. I panted into her mouth when a finger trailed over my sensitive node. I lifted my hips to meet her, thrilled when her finger finally dipped to tease my entrance. Hate was not even close to the word I would use to describe my feelings as she pulled away, circling my clit at an achingly slow pace. Although, I was denied the chance to figure out a better term when a finger plunged into me.
"Oh god," I cried, arching into her touch.
"San works," she smirked over me.
I couldn't force a glare past my closed eyes; instead I settled for digging my nails into sweat drenched skin.
"Shit!" Her curse only heightened my pleasure.
I met her thrust for thrust and soon my senses blocked out anything that wasn't Santana pleasing me. I heard her short breaths over me and felt the motion behind her arm. My eyes closed tightly and I tasted her sweet mouth every so often. My own breathing was irregular as we continued. Finally, any heat I'd experienced before was nothing compared to the rush I felt as Santana brushed a spot inside me continuously. I cried out once more before pulling her down on top of me as I rode out my pinnacle.
I always had to fight off a feeling of devastation of the connection lost whenever Santana drew out of me, but I could not deny the excitement that came with the way she licked her fingers clean as if my taste was that of a delicacy she didn't want to go to waste. When she finished her eyes met mine and she rested her hand at my side, bracing herself as she leaned down to kiss me. Our lips hadn't even met when a knock came at our door.
"Who is it?" We shouted in tandem.
"Repair man," a gruff voice informed.
Santana dropped her head onto my shoulder. "I guess I should be grateful," she sighed, warm breath tickling my skin, "but I don't want to get up."
"I know, but think of how much better continuing will feel when you aren't melting on top of me," I reminded, kissing her cheek gently.
"Mmm," she nodded, sitting up and beginning the tedious act of getting dressed.