SPOILER ...VERY SMALL SPOILER for Smokin' Seventeen, pls don't read this if you care/ haven't read the book yet.
standard fanfic disclaimers apply
a/n after building it up for, uh, 9 years!-JE writes about an R & S encounter:
"we got naked, we went into the bedroom/ when we were done..." [17, page 123]
C'mon, Janet, even I who never write smut can do better than that! [I think]...So here is the closet scene, [aka Smut-Lite] revisited by me, with Harmne's help/ encouragement.
The Closet
.
Ranger and Stephanie have broken into the apartment of a murder suspect, Nick Alpha. Alpha's men, and then Alpha himself show up, forcing our hero and heroine to hide in a closet...
Steph blows me off [italics are quotes from 17] : Ranger pulled me into a closet, wrapped an arm around me and closed the closet door.
"What are we going to do ?" I asked Ranger.
"We're going to stay here until Nick goes to bed."
"That could take hours!"
"Yeah," Ranger said, his hand sliding up to my breast.
''Stop that!"
"I liked you better when you had vordo." [vordo is a curse that makes Steph slutty.]
"You're not suggesting we do it in this tiny closet with two men watching TV in the next room, are you?
"It'd be limiting,'' said Ranger.
... ... ... ...
[Ranger]
Okay so now we're stuck in this freakin' closet. Now what? Steph's right, we could be here for hours.
I didn't want to sit down, just in case we had to run. I very gently moved some shirts aside and propped myself up against the back wall. My eyes adjusted to the darkness. The closet wasn't tiny but it was pretty small. Standard 30 inches deep. Double sliding doors, so maybe a six foot opening, with the usual closet couple, three feet nook on each side where there was no door, just walls. To my left, in the "dead space'', I could see a waist high stack of plastic storage boxes; the right was obscured by hanging clothes. On the rod was an assortment of garments more neatly hung than you'd expect from an ex-con/felon. Underfoot I could feel shoes and a wood floor.
Time passed. Slowly. The air was hot and musty, we were both beginning to sweat a little. Stephanie pressed up against me wasn't helping me stay cool either.
Stephanie finally stirred and whispered, ''Too bad this isn't your closet."
What? Why would I want a shitty little closet like this?
She must have felt my head tilt her way because she explained: "If we were stuck in your closet, we'd have so much room...the lovely carpeted floor, the padded leather bench. Mirrors! We could, you know...''
Mirrors? WTF?
"Mirrors would be—amazing, for when we, you know..."
She turned, a little awkwardly in the tiny space, to face me. I moved sideways to make some room. Her hand touched my chest then very slowly traveled down my abs to my belt buckle. Stephanie has a thing for defined stomach muscles, I know that well. I waited. She leaned in a little, her breasts pressed against my arm, her breath on my neck.
Her hand left my belt buckle and hesitated. Up? Or down, babe? She grabbed a handful of my t-shirt and pulled it free of my pants.
Her hand found its way underneath, retraced the path up my chest. She touched my nipples, one side, then the other. I bit back an audible moan.
Her voice was only a breath in my ear. ''Your chest is so smooth...and you always smell so good. And—omigod, your eight pack, and your skin here is so soft. ..." She touched my navel, lingered. "But underneath you're so—hard."
Her hand found my hardest spot and pressed through my combats. Explored. I pushed forward into her hand and she grasped me through the cotton twill, gentle but determined motions.
"Babe..."
"Shhhh. Can you be very very quiet?" She must have felt my nod.
She undid my belt. The button. The zipper. She pushed my pants away, her hands—and oh god now her mouth finding its way, their way down...
Thump.
My gun fell out of the back waistband of my loosened cargoes. We both froze. When I die I'd like to freeze just like this, with Steph's mouth on me there. Right there. We waited but the TV kept blaring and no one came to find out what made the noise. My Glock is made of polycarbonate alloy not metal and so the sound of it hitting the floor was not loud enough to attract attention over the TV volume.
Stephanie moved back a little, said, "Wait. Stay still."
She bent down and found the gun, straightened up, put it in my hand. ''Maybe you should hold on to this,'' she told me. "Just in case."
I wanted my hands free for—well, whatever she had planned.
"Lean back, relax, let me do everything," she told me.
I peered through the dimness to be sure this was still Steph, the whole scene seemed surreal. My Stephanie was a girl who'd stop my groping hands with a joke or a big-eyed frown, not a woman who would...Oh yeah. She took up where she'd left off.
Awhile later I was forcing my heart rate to return to normal, my knees a little weaker than I wanted to admit.
I handed her my Glock. "Hold this."
"You know I hate guns, Ranger, why...?"
"It's my turn."
"You just had your turn!"
"Then I'm having it again, babe." I kissed her. Long enough to distract her while I undid her jeans. Holding the kiss I ran my hands into the back of her jeans, feeling the tiny thread of her thong underwear and smooth velvet-soft ass.
I pressed her hips hard into mine. I could taste myself on her lips, sweet and salty. She broke the kiss and gasped. "Again? Now?"
"And again, babe." Forever.
"But..."
"Shhhh." I turned her gently. "Lean over these boxes."
"No butt stuff,'' she hissed, trying to scoot away. I held her firmly, reached around from behind her, under her t-shirt, found her breasts. My callused thumbs, rough against her hard peaked nipples, rolled gently. She went soft, compliant. I said, "Trust me." I pushed her jeans lower. Guided her foot free of one leg. Very gently I kicked her legs apart, as if she was some very precious skip. She parted her legs for me and moaned a little.
"Shhhh! Not a sound, babe." I kept one arm around her waist to cushion her from the hard edge of the plastic bins. My right hand slowly travelled down her body, she was all soft silky skin, and smelled so sweet—her perfume, a little sweat, a tinge of fear. She shivered and pressed her ass back against me.
Excitement, not fear, I realized.
I used my body to force her over further, make my access even freer, her round ass cheeks so enticing, so perfect. My fingers trailed over her, explored. She gasped but soundlessly and when she turned her head to try to see me, I kissed her mouth, her neck, her shoulder, trailed wet kisses down her spine and further.
I could feel her heart racing, her breath hitching. She was so wet, so hot, so ready. I opened her gently and pushed inside.
She came instantly. I took my time and she came yet again. We moved together, at first oh so slow—then silently frantic...there, there, yes, now. Now. Omigod.
The closet door opened. While we were preoccupied the TV had gone silent. Light flared into the tiny space. We stayed frozen, my body covering hers. I very carefully reached out and took my Glock from her less than firmly gripping right hand. Lucky for us she didn't get so, uh, involved she pulled the trigger a few seconds ago.
We barely breathed.
A hand reached in, threw a pair of used jeans on the floor near my feet. Boots were kicked off, dropped on the jeans, followed by a shirt that smelled of sweat and body odor. Alpha needs a hamper, I thought semi-hysterically. I felt Steph's scrunched up eeew face and grossed-out recoil against my arm. I tried not to laugh or breathe in.
Alpha threw his smelly socks onto of the pile and slammed the door. He never fully opened the closet door, he never looked in. We got lucky.
Minutes passed. We adjusted our clothes and waited. Finally I grabbed Steph's hand and said, ''Now!'' Just a breath in her ear, but I felt her nod. We tiptoed past snoring Alpha and out the door.
''Be ready to run, babe,'' I cautioned. "Come on!"
"My knees feel like Jell-O, you oaf,'' hissed Stephanie, following me down the stairs.
That's my girl, I thought. Little Miss Romance. Not.
Then we heard gunshots and we ran like hell.
...
In the safety of the Cayenne we tried to catch our breath, avoiding each other's eyes. I was breathless not so much from the run and gunshots as from—events.
I said, ''What was that? And don't give me any vordo shit."
Steph turned her head, looked at me. "Never dare a Burg girl, Ranger."
''It wasn't a dare...''
''What was it then, Ranger?''
''It was, ah...a suggestion. A way to pass the time while we waited.''
"A way to pass the time?" She sounded slightly incredulous. "You are such an asshole."
We locked eyes. Her mouth twitched and we broke into laughter. "And?" I asked.
She said, ''It certainly worked. Any more good ideas?''
''Babe.''
the end