Warning: Contains profanity.
Note: Sequel to "Better in French."
With Jonesy pinned down to the couch by her and her constant kisses, Nikki didn't stop what she was doing. Normally, she prided herself on having the most self-control in their relationship, in sharp contrast with him, who always chased after and flirted with and seduced her. But right now it was different. Sort of.
He still flirted with and seduced her, but she temporarily lost her self-control. The thought of Jonesy flirting in another language drove her mad, which is why she had pounced on and been making out with him for... some amount of time she began to lost track of.
But just as he began to whisper something else in French in the middle of their kiss, she realized something: they had lost track of time.
She quickly sat up and fixed her tousled hair, muttering, "Shit."
While she looked down and noticed her tank top was halfway up her abdomen, resembling a midriff more than a tank top, he asked, "You okay?"
Her pride was gone and she needed to force herself to have control. "We need to finish studying."
He frowned. "But, babe–"
"–No, Jonesy, we need to study."
He sat up and ran a hand through his always-tousled hair, but he didn't say anything.
She looked at him. "Let's finish studying for French, then physics, then we can make out. Okay?"
He looked away.
"Jonesy."
He looked at her, saying nothing yet again.
"Dammit, Jonesy," she said before ambushing him with a long kiss, the front of his shirt in her grasp.
When she broke the kiss, he was left stunned. Trying to catch his breath, he asked, "Can you kiss me like that again?"
She cocked an eyebrow mischievously. Someone's pride was back. She smirked. "Only when we're done studying."
Jonesy was quick to grab his physics textbook. "Where were we?"
She laughed. "We haven't even covered physics yet. We're doing French, remember?"
He blushed. The only thing on his mind was his longing for her to kiss him like that again. "French. Right."