Title: Apologies
Author: Cprav
Characters: Mick, Beth
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: BC
Summary: She apologized to Josh. Were those the only apologizes she had to make?
Notes: My first attempt at first person Mick.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. Don't sue!
"I better get going. I have some apologies to make." I watch her walk up the stairs and finally let the breath I've been holding out with a low growl. When she leaves I'm gonna have to take another cold shower. I'd had to take one last night – with a trip to the freezer – after I had her settled on the couch before my brain could function enough to get at least a bit of work done. Between the come ons, and the shower, and finding out she was wearing NOTHING under that dress... But then I had to come in here and watch her sleep. On my couch. In my shirt. And when she woke up, she just acted so comfortable – as if waking up in only my shirt and traipsing around the house like she lived here was the most natural thing in the world. Most women would have tried to cover themselves or pull the shirt down, or scurry away to get dressed as fast as possible. But she just picked up the coffee mug and curled up on the couch, showing even more leg, and held a conversation as if this was a normal morning occurrence for us – and I wish it were.
So here I am sitting in the chair with my leg crossed so she wouldn't notice how much she was affecting me. I hear the shower turn on; hear each drop as it hits her body and I think back to last night. The feel of her body writhing against mine in the shower, while I try to be ever the gentleman when all I really wanted to do was pound into her like I've been thinking about doing for weeks. The shower turns off and I only now realize that she didn't take the dress with her. My shirt covers more of her than that dress but right now I think whatever shred of control I have left would be a lot safer with her in the black scrap of fabric.
I hear her start to make her way down the stairs and I think maybe I should go into the kitchen or something while she comes in here to get her clothes. Instead, I end up staying right where I am. She finally makes her way to seating area, and goes not to the dress, but stands right in front of me. I look up at her, trying very hard not to follow the line of her bare legs as I shift my gaze upward.
"I-I thought you had to leave?" Is she TRYING to torture me??
"Actually, I said I should get going – to the shower – because I had a apologies to make. I have a lot of apologizing to make to you, Mick."
"Beth, you have nothing to apologize to me for. Why would you think that?" Now she's – bloody hell – kneeling in front of me, uncrossing my legs to settle in between on the floor. She puts her hands on my thighs and catches my gaze and I swear I almost lose it right then!
"I have plenty to apologize to you for – just for last night." She gets a mischievous glint in her eyes and I get worried. I wonder briefly if perhaps she is still under effects of the drug, but I breathe in her scent and it's all her - not even a lingering trace of the drug.
"I apologize for taking the BC." Her hands start to travel up my thighs, over my shirt to settle on my shoulders. I close my eyes to try and calm myself. She's going to be the bloody death of me.
"I apologize for making a fool of myself." Now she's pulling me down to her. I open my eyes and she's meeting me halfway. I can't help the moan that escapes as her lips find mine. This isn't a chaste kiss like the ones we shared in the Buzzwire parking lot. This is full of passion and unlike last night, I don't pull away, returning her kiss without thinking. Her tongue traces my lips, seeking entrance and I can't deny her. She's pulling away, biting my lip with blunt teeth.
"I apologize for worrying you." She's close enough that I feel her breath on my face, can practically feel words. Her nails rake lightly across my neck, down my shirt. I close my eyes as they move lower; stroking me and I'm cursing the material that denies me the feel of her hand on me.
"Beth…" It's practically a growl. She likes that because now it's her turn to moan. She takes a deep, calming breath and continues her tease.
"I apologize for getting you all worked up when I should have known you would be the gentleman." Her hands move to my belt buckle and finally I seem to gain some control. I grab her hands and look into her eyes. I know she must be able to see my confusion, doubt, fear, want…all in my eyes. All I see in hers is desire and…something else; I hear her heart beating quickly and I smell her arousal. She wants this, I want this – God do I want this – she's not under the influence of anything. Why the hell not? I'll deal with the consequences later. I've been hard since she sauntered through the door last night. I let go of her hands and her smile spreads.
"I apologize for asking you turn me." Still continuing with her 'apologies' – which I'm pretty sure she's not even sorry for anymore – she slowly unbuckles my belt and frees me from the suddenly tight confines of my pants.
"You want to know what I apologize the most for?" She wraps her hand around me and strokes. My hands dig into the arms of the chair and I press my head further into the cushion.
"What?" Ground out through my clenched teeth.
"I apologize for trying to play coy and go upstairs, instead of seeing if you would actually kiss me." And I would have. My control slipped and I had moved in to capture her lips. If she hadn't pulled away at that exact moment to lure me upstairs I would have taken her right there against the fireplace.
"Shit!" Her hot, wet mouth envelops me, and my nails dig deeper into the chair's arms as I try and still my movements. I look down and see her watching me even as she works me into a frenzy and I know I'm about to come. Finally spurred into action, I reach down and pull her up. She straddles my legs and, her hands on my face, leans in for a kiss. My mouth is open and waiting, greedily welcoming her tongue. We explore each other's mouths as she lowers herself onto me. I break our kiss, closing my eyes to concentrate on not completely embarrassing myself; and she's nibbling at my jaw, licking my neck as we move together. It only takes a few thrusts before we're both tumbling over the edge, calling each other's names. She rests her head on my shoulder while we recover.
Only then does she lift her head and, with breathless voice ask: "So, am I forgiven?"