A/N:I give John teh cheesiest lines ever! And yet somehow, they sound so sexy coming from him. (Or they do when I picture him saying them in my head. I have problems, dont' ask)
Helen smiled at the full moon that peeked through the lace curtains. She had forgotten how wonderfully exhausting a day in bed could be. Her stomach rumbled quietly reminding her that she hadn't eaten much that day. Best to get up now so she could get food without disturbing John.
She slid from the sheets and cast about for something to throw on. With the aid of the moonlight, she spied John's black dress shirt lying in a heap near the dressers. "Found you," she whispered in a sing song voice. Helen slipped it on and buttoned three of the buttons because she couldn't help feeling too exposed in an unbuttoned shirt.
Helen wandered way down to kitchen and made herself a bowl of cereal. Humming contentedly to herself, she carried it out into the lounge so she could look out the floor to ceiling windows. It was her favorite spot in the house. For reason it made her happy to just stand here and stare at the landscape. She smiled at nothing as she reviewed the past few days in her mind.
She was toying with the spoon when she felt John's presence behind her. It was impossible for that man to sneak anywhere. He was too much of an Alpha to not have everyone in a room look straight towards him when he was nearby. The thought of how truly…masculine John was made Helen smile for reasons she didn't want to delve into just now.
He came up behind her and put his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his heat. Neither noticed when Helen dropped both the bowl and the spoon. "Le clair de lune ne vous a jamais fait juge, Helen," he whispered into her hair. (The moonlight never did do you justice, Helen.)
Helen let out a giggle. "I do so love it when you speak French. It sounds so…rich rolling off your tongue." She tilted her head so he could kiss more of her neck. "Say something else to me."
"Mon chéri, vous surpassez les étoiles avec votre beauté." John nuzzled at her neck. (My darling, you outshine the stars with your beauty.)
"Oh, John," she whispered.
"Pourquoi êtes-vous dehors ici dans seulement ma chemise, amour?" (Why are you clad only in my shirt, love?)
Helen smiled lazily at the night. "Why bother to put on proper clothes? You're only going to take them off me again."
John let out a dark chuckle. "Ceci, mon ange, je peux partir sur vous. Vous regardez plutôt bon dans ma chemise." (This, my angel, I may leave on you. You look rather good in my shirt.)
"Kinky," she murmured. Helen let out a gasp as he started to roam under her shirt.
"Plaqué dans ma chemise et rien d'autre? Helen, vous minx vilain." Amusement laced John's tone. (Clad only in my shirt and nothing else? Helen, you naughty minx.)
"You know you love it, John. Don't pretend you don't."
John turned her so he could kiss her fully. "Ces activités mieux sont continuées sur un lit mou. Est-ce que je pourrais nous proposer déplace ceci ailleurs?" (These activities are best continued on a soft bed. Might I suggest that we move this elsewhere?)
Helen snaked her arms around his neck. "Take me, John," she whispered.
As Helen leaned in for a heated kiss, they disappeared in a haze of light.
