There is absolutely no plot to this, unless you consider Wega foreplay plot, in which case, enjoy this short little bit of plot.
Vega leaned over and kissed his ear, her hand trailing slowly up his sleeve. "Jay-son," she said quietly, flirtatiously, scooting just a little bit closer. "This movie is bor-ing."
"You trying to play my game?" Wylie asked, staring at the book he was reading. She gave a knowing smile. He'd been looking between the book and the television; since she'd started this up he'd become ultra-focused on the book. She had him. This wasn't just his game. He was as easy to distract as she was.
"I don't know..." she slid her hand between two of the buttons on his shirt and gave a flick of her wrist to pop them open. She scooted over, straddling him, her hands on his neck. "You want to play mine?"
His hands had gone up and out to the side when she'd moved, holding the book awkwardly off the side of the couch. But it only took a moment before he was smiling, shifting their weight slightly so he could toss it on the coffee table, and placing his hands on her hips, ready for her as she leaned forward and put her mouth on his.
He kept his hands firmly on her hips, settling her until there was nothing between them but clothes and waiting until he was sure she had no intention of moving before his hands moved, coming up to her own buttons and working to separate them.
Her stomach used to be sensitive, once upon a freshman year at West Pointe she lived for men running their fingers lightly over it. Now her abdomen was sensitive for an entirely different reason – her nerve endings were closer to the top of the skin and when touched the wrong way gave off sensations similar to – but duller than – the discomfort felt during the healing process. So Wylie, despite his wish to rid her of the shirt, took his time, so as to not touch her in a way that caused pain. His likelihood of doing so was low; they both knew it, but he was always careful.
She ground her hips against his, feeling him answer with the same action. Her head tilted slightly, seeking a new angle on the kiss, and he moved with her as if she'd told him what she was going to do. His thumbs ran lightly over her bra, and he removed his lips from hers to kiss against her neck, right where one would check for a pulse.
A gasp escaped her lips. "Good God, Wylie."
She could feel his hot breath on her skin when he spoke. "What can I say? I like making you feel alive, Michelle."
She lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were absolutely brimming with affection, while one side of his mouth pulled upward in a smirk. It was a combination that made her heart pound. His thumbs continued working, and she closed her eyes. "This your game or mine?" she asked, her fingers pressing into his shoulders, her voice airy.
"Isn't it ours?"
She smiled, leaning forward and whispering "fair enough," before her lips found his jawline.
"Mmmm." Wylie's eyes fell closed. "I love your breath on my neck."
"You getting sappy on me again?" she asked, her hands tangling up in his shirt. She put her lips near his clavicle and exhaled slowly, feeling him shudder beneath her. "See?" she whispered triumphantly. "My game."
She knew he would try and prove her wrong. And she certainly didn't mind.
I'm trying to get back into the groove of writing Wega, and this is what I came up with for the night. Better than nothing, yes?