How was he looking at her?
As Amy leaves and Mindy starts flitting around his apartment, chattering to herself while Danny stands there dumbly, that's all he can think. What is it Amy thought she saw?
"Clearly she needs glasses," Mindy says, and he wonders if he asked the question he was thinking aloud.
"Why do you say that?"
"Very pregnant. That's more than a little harsh."
"Yeah. Right. She should get that checked out," he mumbles.
"Are you okay? You look weird."
That snaps him out of it. Danny has had enough of women commenting on the way he is looking tonight. "I'm fine."
"Okay," she makes a face and says the words out of the side of her mouth in that way she does to make the person she's addressing seem insane. "So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Huh?"
"Before. You said we needed to talk. God, Danny, are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes. And I don't remember - it was nothing."
"Whatever." Mindy sighs dramatically. "Crap. Now I'm invested. I gotta find out how that horror movie ends. Come on."
"Nah, I'll stay in here. You can take the room."
"Thank you. I knew you had better manners than that. That's not why you have to come with me, though. You started it, now you have to see it through. I can't watch it by myself, I need a scary-movie buddy."
"Why do you even care? It was on for three minutes."
"And in those three minutes I became invested in knowing Chantal's fate at the hands of that mask-wearing, ax-wielding psychopath."
"That's not even the plot of the movie!"
She grabs his hand and drags him to his bed.
Twenty minutes later Mindy is asleep using his chest as a pillow and the movie not even half over. Danny tries to pay attention to what's happening but he truly couldn't care less. And it has nothing to do with the movie, which is admittedly terrible, and everything to do with the way Mindy has her hand resting low on his stomach. Her fingers are curled slightly at the bottom of his T-shirt and he can smell the way her soap and lotion are mingling pleasantly with his detergent from the freshly laundered clothes he gave her to wear.
She mumbles something incoherent in her sleep and clutches tighter to him, her hand tensing for a moment like she's having a bad dream. When she relaxes again the tips of two fingers brush the light trail of hair that leads down the waistband of his pants where his shirt has ridden up.
He swallows hard and stares at where she's touching him.
He's finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. The thought of how another inch lower and her hand would be on his cock making his mouth dry and his pants tent. As he struggles for deep, cleansing breaths his chest heaves, and so with it her head. She's going to wake up if he's not careful, and then he's going to do something stupid. Like, guide-her-hand-down-and-then-rip-his-clothes-off-her, stupid.
Danny slips out from under her with as much ease as he can manage, and then watches her for a minute. She shifts, adjusting to his absence, and doesn't wake up.
The overhead light in the bathroom is harsh and he flicks it off again, leaving only the recessed lighting over the shower. He looks like hell and the half-light diminishes that some, but can't wipe away the desperate, needy expression that greets him in the mirror.
He should really go to the couch and try and sleep. It's already late and he has early appointments in the morning. He doesn't though, because even if he didn't come in here expressly for this purpose, he's not getting any rest until he takes care of the problem that's straining his fly.
Danny quickly pops open the buttons to his pajama pants and, taking himself in hand and stroking firmly, thinks it's only because he hasn't been with someone for a while. That's the only reason this is happening. It has nothing to do with Mindy. It's biology. Any decent woman puts her hand practically on the crotch of a man who hasn't had sex in a while would have the same reaction.
That doesn't explain however, when he closes his eyes and shifts his right hand over his tip and starts stroking overhanded harder, that it's Mindy he sees. He tries batting the image away but every time his brain sidesteps the idea of it being her hand jerking him off, it's replaced with something more graphic. Like her mouth.
Oh, her mouth. He can practically feel the strands of silky black hair through his fingers as he tries to restrain himself from griping her tight and pushing all the way into her throat. The way her tongue would feel swirling around -
"Oh my god!"
Danny's eyes fly open hoping his overactive imagination provided that too. It didn't.
Mindy's standing in the doorway, her eyes bleary from sleep and focused on where his hand is still wrapped around his dick. He should be embarrassed and apologize or something, except all he can focus on is how he was so close to finishing when she came in that it's painful now, his heart feeling like it will explode. Can a person die from a horrifyingly unfulfilled orgasm? They never covered that in medical school so he supposes not.
It takes him a very long moment, what with the near-death almost-coming and all, to realize that Mindy hasn't fled in shock or admonished him in her normal, overly dramatic way. She's just standing there staring down at him. There's a part of him that wants to jokingly ask her if she likes what she sees and watch as she gets flustered and runs away. Only this doesn't feel even a little funny and her breathing has gotten shallow to the point where he isn't sure she has any intentions of leaving.
She licks her lips reflexively and that's all it takes. Danny starts stroking himself again and watches as it breaks Mindy out of her reverie. Her dark eyes jolt to his for the first time since she barged in.
"Come here," he says, voice like sandpaper.
To his continuing surprise, she does. He takes her hand without preamble and threading their fingers awkwardly starts working them both up and down his length. The sensation is strange working in tandem that way, her cool hand against his hot skin making him twitch. Once he can feel her setting the pace he lets go.
On her own she doesn't hesitate, and God, an hour ago he could not have imagined a scenario in which this could ever happen. Danny lets his eyes slip shut for just a moment, relishing the way when she slides back down to his base Mindy twists her hand before tugging, her thumb and fingers bearing down, applying exquisite pressure.
It feels amazing and is suddenly not enough. The way she's in his space, focused and intently taking care of him while she stands there completely untouched is wrong. So he slips his now free right hand into her pants and drags two fingers across her slit, finding her already slick.
Mindy sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth, her hand faltering. He circles her clit and then slides back to her entrance, repeating this a few times and enjoying the way she gasps a little every time he does. She has a steadying hand on his arm and is only distractedly touching him. Watching the way her eyes roll back before she closes them tight as he slips two fingers inside makes him not care.
Her lips are parted, head tipped back, and it's baring the column of her throat in a way he can't resist, his mouth running open over her skin. Danny can only get so far though, pulling at the edge of the restricting shirt collar with his teeth.
"Take this off," he growls.
For only a second her hand is off him, a second where he acutely misses her, and she's pulling the sweatshirt over her head and tossing it to the floor. Oh, and then she's naked from the waist up and he immediately finds her breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue as it hardens.
She threads encouraging fingers into his hair as his mouth travels, and goes back to purposefully stroking him.
He can feel the vibrations of a moan too low to be audible as he makes his way back up her throat, and his teeth nip roughly at the feeling, then lavishes the spot, soothing any sting away. The sweet-smelling dab of perfume behind her ear is bitter on his tongue and it stupidly does something for him, thrusting his fingers deeper and biting on her earlobe.
"Danny!" she gasps, and he pulls away to look at her face, the shock of his name being spoken by her with such lust sending electricity down his spine.
Fuck. He forgot to kiss her. They're standing here halfway to the point of getting each other off and he doesn't even know what her lips feel like.
Danny drops his mouth to hers and kisses her gently, testingly, like he's asking for approval for this thing they're already doing. The way her lips tenderly respond feels like she's in his head, knowingly answering him. It's intuitive and a little freaky and Danny realizes he is in big trouble.
He's not going to be able to set this aside and pretend it never happened. If that's even what she'll want. Just the idea of having to see her every day and not getting to do this too is enough to make his stomach hurt.
Her tongue sneaks cleverly into his mouth and the fear that comes with knowing already that he is always going to want her is overwhelming. So he'll take everything she's giving him now and hope it won't have to last him a lifetime.
Danny withdraws his fingers, sliding them achingly deliberate over her swollen flesh. This earns him a rattling moan in his mouth and he slips his other hand into her pants, running both palms over the swell of her ass. The skin there is so smooth and he pulls her to him, his erection still wrapped in her hand getting trapped between them, pressing low into her stomach.
Okay. No more messing around. He needs to be inside her now. Danny lets her go and strides the few steps over to the linen cupboard, his dick bobbing as he goes, and out of a basket on the shelf grabs a condom. He chucks the foil wrapper onto the floor next to the sweatshirt and rolls the latex quickly down.
Mindy's standing there, glazed-over eyes watching him hotly and he walks back and jerks the sleep pants she's wearing down and she steps out of them, sliding them away with her toes. He pushes his mouth to hers again quickly, hoping she can still read his intent there, and scrapes his fingertips down to the crook where her thighs and ass meet.
He releases her lips with a smack and looks her in the eye so she knows he's serious. "Turn around."
Her eyes startle and she swallows hard, and then she does it. Danny runs his right hand up her back, spanning his fingers wide between her shoulder blades before guiding himself into her with his left.
Mindy mewls and clenches around him, that plus the angle already allowing him to sink up to his hilt. He stays his movements briefly, needing a moment so he doesn't pop off right then. Impatiently she begins to wiggle and he slowly starts moving again, eventually setting a steady pace, his hand pulling on her hip.
The tight heat of her is overwhelming and in a few short minutes Danny is embarrassingly close to coming. And he would, God he wants to, but her first. He moves his hand from between her shoulders and around, down her stomach, his fingers drawing tight circles hard enough against her clit she cries out.
Mindy is slamming back into him, scrambling for friction and writhing with every press of his fingers. She's bowing over, her body falling to a right angle, high-pitched moaning tumbling from her lips as she begins to convulse, and he's missing it. He needs to see her face, to watch as he makes her come. Danny grabs a fistful of lustrous hair and pulls, arching her body up enough he can see her face in the mirror.
Her eyes are clamped tightly shut and she is openly groaning with every thrust.
"Mindy. Open your eyes."
She does, their gaze locking, and he digs his fingers into her relentlessly. She screams, shattering around him. And the way she's pulsing, pulling him tightly in, all while never breaking eye contact, is what does it, Danny grunting loudly as he jerkily comes.
Their eyes are still locked in the mirror and he knows exactly how he must be looking at her now. Because Mindy's looking back at him the same way.
And he had nothing to worry about before. This won't be the last time.
