Title: Catching the Wave
Part: One of Four
Author: Roguie/ SunSpecOps/ Danae Bowen
Fandom: Eureka
Pairing: Jo/Zane
Rating: T with a huge dash of plus; final chapter will be full blown M. Rating will be upgraded at that time.
Summary: He was an addiction, Zane Donovan, one that no amount of time or space could cure. What started as a game quickly becomes a roller coaster of emotion. Her only choice was to hang on until the end.
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Eureka, and while that pains me on a daily basis, I still enjoy borrowing the characters and mutating their inner voices to suit my will. Please don't sue; my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.
A/N: Just a little fun with some sensory exploration - looking forward to hearing what you've got to say about this piece. There are four parts to this, each about a thousand words in length. If you'd like to see what happens next - shout it out, because if Jo and Zane are my drug, then reviews are the needle in my muse's arm. She's sensitive, people… just saying.
~~~E~~~
He was driving her completely insane, there was no other way to describe it.
At first there was the kiss at Cafe Diem after the whole fireball/firefly incident. Okay, so she pushed that kiss, but c'mon, he was sitting there asking for it. Literally.
What? You didn't think those two little kisses meant she went home with him that night, did you? Jo Lupo may be firmly stuck on Zane Donovan, but she wasn't going to accept an ultimatum without a fight. This time she was going to make him work for what she gave so easily the last, and damned if she wouldn't enjoy every, single second. For his part, Zane seemed more than up for the challenge.
It started with those insufferable fingers of his. The number of times he'd cut them, scorched them, or stuck them in some unnameable corrosive compound, you'd think they'd be rough and calloused, but maybe that was the before Zane because his fingers, now, were so far from rough that she could hardly control the trembles that coursed through her body at his lightest touch. Agreeing to work out this thing between them together apparently stripped Zane of any hesitation he may have once had about touching her in public. He'd rested those large hands on her tiny wrists, thumbs gently stroking the soft flesh over her pulse as her heart immediately stuttered in her chest, her very breath hanging caught in her throat. When those very same fingers travelled from her wrists upwards, brushing a stray lock of hair from her collar bone, soft skin against burning flesh, a whimper dared to escape her lips and the game, so to speak, had officially begun.
Days passed with him making every excuse to drag those strong, soft fingers over her sensitized skin, at work, at play, it seemed nowhere was sacred to him when opportunity presented itself. Not that it mattered, the moment he got within a foot of her, she'd lean towards him, her body craving the simple pleasure of the worship he offered in silence. He was an addiction, Zane Donovan, one that grew worse with every passing moment, and where first it was his touch that melted her in place, now the mere scent of him stalled her heart and started the trembling long before his fingers grazed her skin.
How had she never noticed his scent before? When he walked up behind her, in those precious few moments before his fingers would find the soft expanse of flesh exposed between her waist and shirt hem, pliant, heated flesh that begged for gentle finger pads to bring tremors to her soul, his scent would surround her, envelop her in a heady musk born of cologne, sun, salt, and occasionally the smoke from whatever had exploded in his face that day. It was his scent, pure and unaltered, leaving her gasping before he'd even moved, and it would cling to her long after he'd left her, trembling, whimpering, guttural sounds begging to be let past her lips, no longer able to focus on whatever task she'd been in the midst of when he'd derailed her ability to process thought.
Her resolve weakened quickly, his persistent fingers on her soft skin, his heated breath against her neck, his body leaning into hers until she had no choice but to turn in his arms and desperately meet his lips as she sought any kind of release to break the tension that consumed her entire being. It didn't matter that they were at work, trapped deep within the walls of Global Dynamics as his soft lips captured hers and held them at ransom, tongue begging entrance to her mouth, so wet with heat that his hands closed tightly around her arms when his own strength threatened to fade. Only when her knees buckled, when his thick thigh pressed between her legs was all that kept her standing, did she gather enough force of will to pull away.
Not that he made it easy on her. Those soft, warm lips of his unerringly found the sensitive dip in her throat, gentle teeth scraping heated flesh as he licked and nibbled every centimetre exposed to his will. A resounding growl rumbled in his chest as he drank in the mewling sighs that she couldn't contain, not the only evidence of the beast inside him struggling for escape.
The path of biting kisses he left as he trailed from her throat to her ear, his hot, unsteady breath an ocean of sound and sensation as it drifted over her, was a distraction from everything except the length of his body pressed to hers, hard plane of arousal undeniable as she was held in place, between flesh and metal, higher reasoning flooding from her body on waves of moist heat that pleaded with him to push her further, to take what was without a doubt rightfully his.
When she shoved him away, denying both their bodies the release they craved so desperately, his teeth caught the lobe of her ear, tugging sharply as he fought his own battle for control, disappointment and challenge waging a war that turned his blue eyes stormy grey, his jaw set in determination while stealing a final searing kiss before departing on a whispered, "It's not over yet, JoJo."
Her lips twitched as she watched him leave, his normal even step awkward as he adjusted his jeans with care, stepping out into the corridor with a challenging smirk. For the next few minutes there would be absolutely no doubt over what he'd been up to, or with whom he'd been up to it.
As her body released the last bit of emotional tension on a too high pitched laugh to have come from her throat, Jo shook her head slowly. If he could bring it, she could take it. Jo Lupo doesn't lose, it's not in her nature. She figured a few more days of this and she'd have Zane on his knees at her feet, begging for release.
She straightened her suit, straightened her hair, sucked her lower lip between her teeth and sighed as she steadied her painfully stuttering heart. She only hoped that when one of them cracked that it wouldn't be in public. After all, neither she nor Zane had the best track record when it came to control.
~~~TBC~~~
In The Next Part:
In another time she would have stiffened, all senses on alert and perhaps fingers would have been broken, maybe a nose, but there definitely would have been blood. In this time, while though she did stiffen, the scent of him as he approached, the gentleness of his touch, the worship in his kiss, all of that combined forced her to lean back against him, sighing softly as his fingers travelled and teeth cut into flesh, leaving no doubt that she would wear his mark in the morning.
Coming Soon!