A/N So I've decided this is at least a three part little thing, I'm not sure if I'll take it further. It's entirely possible though, I do have a habit of letting my little projects get wildly out of control.
Oh and this is the chapter that warrants the M rating. You've been warned.
They walked the few blocks of the still busy New Orleans streets to his apartment. He led her up, bare hand still held in his, playing lightly with her fingers. She glanced around the eclectically decorated apartment. It didn't seem to have any predominant theme, it was as if he found a bunch of stuff he liked and threw it together. He set the five locks on the door behind them.
"Better t' be safe," he answered her inquisitive gaze. She smiled slightly, that was a notion she could agree with. "Is this what y' want, chère?" he asked, taking her face gently in his hands. His glasses were off, ruby and black eyes staring into her troubled emerald ones. "I don't want t' be the cause of any more problems or confusion to you."
"You aren't a problem, and you aren't causing me any confusion," she promised quickly. "I want this." He grinned at the surety of her words. "Are-are you sure?" she asked, suddenly timid, and he could have kicked himself. He'd been so engrossed in making sure she was comfortable, he didn't covey as much as he should have that he wanted her. He could see in her eyes that she was thinking he might be just like the others, afraid or unwilling to touch her. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. When he pulled away, the insecurity was gone, replaced by an excited and eager look.
"I'm not afraid of you, chère. No one should be afraid of a belle fille like you."
He kissed her again, more forcefully this time, and she responded with the same level of exuberance. She wrapped her hands slowly into his hair and around his neck, still tentative. It quickly became apparent that she was even more starved for touch than he had thought. She was sure to mirror what he was doing, making sure not to go any farther than what he had initiated.
"Chère,"he whispered against her lips. "Don't y' be uncertain with m'." He ground his hips into hers to emphasize his point, earning a low moan from her. "That's it, let yourself have fun." He ran his hands slowly down her sides, then back up, his mouth never leaving hers. His hands rested on her hips, playing with the waistband of her pants. Hooking his thumbs into her jeans, he pulled her back through the door into his bedroom. He leaned her over onto his bed, crawling over her and making sure that she didn't take too much of his weight.
Her jacket was gone and his hands worked under her shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing in into the corner. He stared down at her, now only in jeans and a black bra. She grinned at the hungry look in his eyes. It had been a long time since that kind of look had been directed at her.
Their lips crashed together again, while he ran his hands up her spine, causing her to arch her back until she was pressed into the line of his body. He unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts. Moving his way down, he kissed her collarbone, then between her breasts, down her stomach until he met her jeans. By now, she was trembling with her excitement. Her jeans were quickly slid down her hips to reveal that her black panties were already soaked. He brushed his thumb over her clit through the barrier of thin fabric. She whimpered, raising her hips.
"Don't tease me," she managed to say.
"Oh, I'm not, chère," he grinned. She cried out as he pushed the thin panties aside and slid a finger inside her. She was so tight and wet already. He found a rhythm, moving in and out before adding another finger and flicking his tongue over her clit. She moaned, gasping for air as he sped up. Feeling that she was close, he closed his lips around her sensitive nub as sucked gently. As his fingers found that spot inside her.
She bucked against his hand as he brought her. Her eyes were closed, lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. When she opened her eyes, his face was level with hers.
"And now, chère…" he whispered, and she could feel his smooth head at her entrance.
"Don't stop," she breathed as he massaged her breast with one hand, placing the other at the nape of her neck.
"Oh I won't," he promised and pushed into her, fighting his way in despite her slick and wet walls. Slowly and deliberately, he pulled nearly all the way out of her, before pushing himself back in. His movements were earning small noises from her that only aroused him more. No one had ever turned him on from such a simple thing quite like her. She lifted her hips to meet his hungry thrusts, gripping his arms.
"Oh, god!"she yelled, gripping him tighter. He groaned as she suddenly flipped them, her thighs on either side of his body. She rode him as he gripped her hips, her breasts dancing tantalizingly close. He loved the sight of his member sliding in and out of her and she thrust herself onto him.
Her breathing changed and her rhythm faulted. He felt her inner muscles beginning to clench and pounded into her harder. She threw her head back, screaming her orgasm, juices dripping down to her thighs. Four thrusts later, he came, closing his eyes in ecstasy as her walls clenched around him.
He pulled her down to the bed and gathered her in his arms. He laid a kiss on her temple as they slowly regained the ability to breathe.
Usually his protocol was as soon as it was over, she left or he did, depending on where they were (though he usually didn't like to bring anyone back to his place). There was no talking after, no holding, cuddling, and definitely no sleeping. But he couldn't imagine letting this woman out of his sight, especially not now.
He ran his hands down her back, tracing the path of her spine. "Sleep," he encouraged her. "Chère, you're exhausted."
"How could you tell?" she asked, right before a yawn wracked her body. He laughed, hugging her closer. The fruity smell of her hair intoxicated him and he closed his eyes to memorize the scent. He laid awake long after she fell asleep, head in the crook of his neck with his arm tight around her waist. The only thoughts filling his head were of this amazing creature in his arms, and how no one had ever occupied his mind like this. She might as well set up shop and turn on the sign saying open for business, there wasn't anything he could do to get her out of his head. Not that he tried particularly hard.
The rhythmic sensation of her breathing was the most soothing thing he'd ever felt. Despite his racing mind and limitless energy, he found himself drifting to sleep, more comfortable than he's been in a long time.
He woke with a start as he felt her slide out of his arms. One night, and he was already so attuned to her…
"Going somewhere, chère?" he asked as mildly as he could. She turned, messy dark hair spilling over her shoulder. She grinned, the smile that made something in his chest feel slightly inflated.
"Gotta get back," her southern drawl had become more pronounced and he loved it. "Have a call to make."
"Gonna brag about be huh?" he teased. "I thought y' were running?"
"I am," she sighed. "It's a friend. Gets worried if I don't check in. He's letting me run, but if I stop making contact he'll probably come after me, make sure I'm all right and all that."
"Boyfriend?" he asked, stubbornly ignoring the pang of jealously at the thought. To his luck, she snorted.
"No, hell no," she laughed. "Just a good friend." She dressed and made her way to his bed. Bending down, she kissed him. He wrapped his hands in her hair and pulled her closer. Finally, she pulled back, laughing, and took a deep breath.
"Last night was fun," she said, heading for the bedroom door. He followed, a win colored sheet wrapped around his waist.
"Will you be at the bar tonight?" he asked, as carefree as possible. She smiled, sending that happy ripple through her.
"Yeah, I think I will be," she answered. He gave her one more long, probing kiss before she disappeared out the front door. He walked back to the bed and collapsed onto it, running his hands through his hair. He was confused, more confused than he could recall being. On the one hand, this girl was more interesting, exciting and enticing than any female he'd ever encountered. He felt inexplicably drawn to her, and that alone had him scared.
On the other hand…he was Gambit! This was what he did. Short term, no feelings, no commitment. Getting attached, seeing her again was a ridiculous notion.
But if that was true, why didn't she drop from his mind the second the door closed behind her?
He mulled over the thoughts of her all day. Sure, he still lived his life; he ran his errands, contacted a few people, and made some arrangements. But while the active part of his mind was focused on whatever business was at hand, the back of his mind only had room for her.
He made it to the bar relatively early that night and asked the bartender if he'd seen a gorgeous brunette with a white streak tonight. When he said no, Gambit retreated to his corner table.
The minutes ticked by, slowly turning into hours. The women in the bar figured out that it was pointless to approach him, he was rejecting them without his eyes ever leaving the door.
