Title: Irresistible
Disclaimer: The characters and concepts of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, and 20th Century Fox. No infringement is intended and I make nothing off this story. Just having a bit of fun.
Pairings: Michael/Liz
Rating: Mature
Summary: She meant to say no. The word had formed on her lips and for a split second, she had every intention of refusing…but he was irresistible.
She meant to say no.
The word had formed on her lips and for a split second, she had every intention of refusing, the expression in his eyes making her shiver deliciously, sending a warm curl of desire sinking into her stomach and making her weak in the knees. But she could hardly breathe when he focused all that electric intensity onto her, let alone form the needed words to protest, push him away as would be prudent.
If it were only a physical reaction, she probably could have fought it, could have walked away from him standing there, wrapped in rain and looking like sex-on-a-stick, could have flicked a careless smirk and walked on, but the feelings and sensations he evoked went far deeper than she ever wanted to admit. His magnetism touched, rubbed along places inside that no one should have the ability to see or touch, ones that had been lying dormant forever.
Then his lips glided over that spot on the curve of her neck, one that sent fire ripping through her blood, had her gasping, mewling like a little kitten and all thought flew out the door. Hot, wet breath wafted over her skin, warming the chill from damp skin as he pinned her firmly, caged her against the wall behind her parents' café, hot, heavy hands sliding over her skin as if he was trying to brand his fingerprints into it.
And she wasn't even sure when he had gotten close enough to entrap her in the web he'd been spinning since they had gotten caught in the thrall of the last heat wave; and what should have been nothing more than an innocent, impersonal touch, ended with her pressed full-length beneath him, their eyes flaring with surprise and some darker passion she didn't care to examine.
The following rains should have cooled the fire, chilled the heat that had built inside over the past few weeks. But it only added its own electrical power, until it was crackling along her nerves and left her feeling weak, needy and defenseless when she rounded the corner and found him leaning nonchalantly against the building, whiskey fire raining over her skin as surely as the rivulets of water chasing over bared limbs.
She knew the confrontation was inevitable; one didn't avoid Michael for long, but she had hoped to put it off for a little longer. She should have just saved herself the trouble of avoiding him.
He was inescapable.
She had planned to walk by without a word, nodding only the slightest of acknowledgment in passing before focusing intently on the ladder leading to her room and fleeing to the sanctuary of her room, her heart thudding in her ears as she felt that heavy, covetous gaze blazing a searing path over her flesh, making her breath snag. But "the best laid plans of mice and men…" and all that.
Licking her lips nervously, she watched him from the corner of her eye, dragging a deep breath into constricted lungs as hooded bourbon sparked heatedly, daring her to ignore the flash of fire that smoldered when their eyes clashed and the current that jumped between them when his fingers encircled her wrist, had her breath stilling completely, effectively halting her carefully planned retreat.
Snapping her head towards him, her throat convulsed, bobbing almost painfully as she swallowed and her hands shook slightly as he stepped into the curve of her body until only a scant inch stood between them; and she swore she could almost hear the sizzling hiss of water has his fingers traced up her arm, feathering seductively over the slope of her shoulder to sink into the drenched, tangled strands gathered at the nape of her neck.
Inhaling sharply, she closed her eyes, the faint hint of spice, earth and rain teasing her senses and making her had swim dizzily; and she barely quelled the small whimper bubbling in the back of her throat when his head dipped, the sweet mint of his breath whispering over her upturned mouth as his other arm cinched around her waist, crushing her to the hard line of his body. Just how was she supposed to resist the sensual power he naturally emanated?
Trembling when his hands trailed over the line of her neck and cupped her jaw, she curled fingers around his, knuckles blanching as they laced together, uncertain if she was hanging on for dear life or if she was planning to wrench away, when his lips brushed over hers in a barely perceptible caress. One she would have denied even happening if it weren't for the tiny sparks tingling over her skin and the faint of salt clinging to her mouth and tongue.
Gasping when he pulled away, she shivered delicately, surprised to find her hands fisted in his shirt, her breath falling in sharp, shallow puffs from the simple caress and licked her lips nervously, tensing to in anticipation of fleeing, unable to handle the sheer, overwhelming force of nature he embodied, when his eyes darkened with intent. Spellbound, she swallowed thickly, her skin growing hot and tight when he spun her swiftly, pushing her none to gently against the concrete as if sensing her impending flight.
Whimpering when his fingers bit into her hips, she barely had time to draw a breath before his lips crashed against hers, melting against hers like warm honey, moving over hers insistently until hers parted and he dipped his tongue between them, curling, tangling gently with her own as he explored her mouth at first tentatively and then growing in passion and intensity. Moaning against his mouth breathlessly, she dug her fingers into his shoulders, head swimming in the heady sensations of him fitted close to her body, of his mouth, tongue, and teeth finally on her, of the sweet-spicy contrast of chocolate, smoke and chili as one thought circled her head endlessly.
Was she really prepared to play with fire?