A/N: Thanks for the reviews and follows! Glad you are enjoying! Am thinking I will also add a chapter from Ali's POV. Should be fun.
The rest of the night passed in a blur. It became hazy. Loud. Sweaty. Thankfully, it was cool by the time the lights flashed and we moved outside to get a cab. But it was crowded and it seemed like it was going to take forever. Ali leaned against me while we waited, crossing her arms.
"Hey, we can take you home if you want. You girls are from Rosewood?"
It was the guys from earlier. We'd spent a most of the night talking and laughing with them, Ali always lingering close to me, linking her arm with mine, touching my elbow. It didn't seem like a bad idea, but it was hard to really trust anyone, even years after "A."
"Are you from Rosewood?" Hanna asked loudly, swaying a bit.
"We're staying at the Radley. This here is Chris, and he's my DD," the first guy said, slapping the back of a friend next to him. The friend waved awkwardly.
"Perfect, let's go," Hanna said circling her fingers.
I was a little uncomfortable, but it did seem like the best option. Ali looked at me, rolling her eyes, but followed Hanna. The two guys waved goodbye to the rest of their friends and motioned us towards a large truck.
Ali took my hand and pulled me into the back as Hanna climbed into the front, sitting in the middle. She immediately took over the music began screaming unintelligible lyrics to some rock song.
Ali held my hand in her lap, and I intertwined our fingers. I looked at her face. She was staring forwards, those icy blue eyes looking at god knows what. She almost seemed distracted. I had no idea what she was thinking.
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the proximity of being shoved into the cab, our legs pressed together, my left ankle under hers. Maybe it was the relative privacy, the total obliviousness of the other passengers. Maybe it was her wink from earlier. But suddenly I became aware of how warm and close she was beside me. I dropped her hand, lifting my elbow up, letting it rest on the back of the seat behind her head. With my shoulder out of the way, she had room to move away, but she moved in closer, almost imperceptibly, without looking at me.
I took her hand again with my free one and, rather than just holding it, I started to massage her palm with my fingers. I pushed them through hers and back again, pressing my forefinger into the soft flesh of her thumb, moving circles around her knuckles. Her hands were smaller than mine, my fingers were long, exploring. She looked down, watching my fingers trace hers, I thought I saw her mouth fall open slightly. But she said nothing, almost ignoring it. She didn't stop me, but she didn't move at all in response.
I glanced forward. Hanna and the boys were talking in between tracks.
"Oh my God, yes! That's exactly what I thought when I first heard this one!"
She was having the time of her life.
Looking back at Ali, a loose blond curl had come free and I moved it back behind her ear with the hand I had propped behind her head. She registered my touch by looking up from our hands, closing her eyes for a moment, and taking a breath. I moved my fingers away from her palm, up her arm, continuing to massage the muscles in her forearm. I moved my head in, my nose grazing her cheek, my lips close to her ear. Her scent was even stronger here, part of it artificial, her expensive perfume, but the other part her actual smell. Sometimes, I think, I would recognize that smell anywhere, a crowded party, a super market, a train station, anywhere. I let my eyes flutter closed as I brushed my lips across her neck.
She moved at that, gripping my hand suddenly, shifting in her seat. I looked down and I could see the goose bumps on her arm. I felt brave, confident, proud that I could elicit any response from her. She finally turned to look at me, our faces close, her head leaning back against my elbow. She held a strange expression, relatively empty, like she was trying to decide between two mundane choices. Celery or cucumbers? But she was almost more beautiful like that. Like a photo still. But then the photo moved. She glanced down at my lips, and I realized she was trying, as ever, to mask her thoughts and feelings. But her eyes were betraying her. And so were her hands, which were pushing back into mine with a certain degree of need.
I stared back, looking at the flecks of yellow in those blue eyes, watching at how the passing streetlights illuminated them every few seconds, unconsciously moving my hand into her hair where it met with her temple, my nails light against her scalp.
I dipped my head forward. Her lips parted, her eyes closing.
"Emily," she said, her breath warm against my lips, my lips so close to hers, I swear I could feel her mouth my name. She glanced at the others in the car, pulling her face away. She did not want to be caught.
I pushed away her long, full, beautiful hair, and kissed her just below the ear on her neck. She moved into me, her hand slipping across mine onto my thigh. She dug her nails into my jeans. To be honest, I wasn't really sure what I was doing, I just wanted more. I wanted, in an odd way, to torture her the way she'd tortured me for years. Let her try to resist this.
I became more aggressive. I continued to kiss her neck, but harder, more insistent. I pushed my tongue against her skin before nipping her ear lobe. My hand moved to her knee, danced at the hem line of her skirt. I pressed up her inner thigh, under the fabric, moving her legs slightly open. She didn't resist, but continued to stare forward, not meeting eyes or my lips, but moving slightly into the rhythm of my kisses. I loved the way she felt under my hands, pliable and warm.
I remembered back to the last time I had had this type of access to her, our hands exploring each other under her sheets. But this time was different. There wasn't the shadow of A hanging over us. There wasn't the cloud of mistrust, the pain of losing my best friend and then regaining her back only to suspect she might've been my tormenter all long.
No, now it had been years of brief, intermittent contact. But, even still, I was often painfully aware of the deep connection we shared, an easiness to our friendship that I hadn't found with anyone else. And, on top of that, the powerful attraction I had for her, no matter how much time had passed or how many miles between us. It was something I kept hoping would go away, but it was always there, buried deep beneath the surface. It almost felt like a part of who I was sometimes, something I couldn't remove or dampen. And, without the alcohol, it slumbered. But with the alcohol…
"Kiss me," I said, breathy into her ear.
"No," she said back, but her breathing was coming short, her eyes closing as I felt her for center, traced a nail around the outside of her underwear. She bit her lip, suppressing some sort of noise.
"...you know, Ali?"
I had less than a second to remove my hand, Ali to move her legs closed, before Hanna was turned around looking at us, smiling. Alison's eyes fluttered open, her pupils giant, her eyes almost black. She subtly moved her hand off my leg while we sat there, looking innocent. Nothing to see here.
"Wasn't this band great in concert?"
"Oh, uh huh," she said.
"Oh my God, were you sleeping? You two are so lame."
Hanna turned back around and kept yelling the music lyrics. The guys joined in.
Ali looked at me like I was in trouble. I smiled slightly at her, mischievously, which caused her frown to perk up into a smirk. I used the moment to sucker punch kiss her, she was so close after all.
My lips pressed against hers, I could taste her lip gloss for a shining moment before she pulled away angry, quickly checking the others, her eyes darting up to the rear view mirror. Of course no one saw.
She leaned back in, eyes still forward, whispering into my ear. "I am going to kill you later," she said grabbing me, her fingers pushing into the muscle just above my knee. It tickled, I jerked my knee up involuntarily.
She used my movement to curl heel around ankle, moving my legs apart. Then, I felt her tongue drag up the side of my neck. Oh my God.
"Ali," I breathed.
"Two can play this game, huh?" she said, toying with the wasteband of my jeans, nuzzling my neck with her nose before sucking hard behind my ear, definitely leaving a mark. I cried out, partially through pain, partially because it was so hot, but I kept my mouth shut, trapping the noise. I knew she felt the it vibrate through my neck.
I turned to kiss her again, but she pulled back with a sideways smile. Our eyes locked. I thought about pushing her backwards onto the cab's bench seat, pinning her, so that she couldn't avoid me. I'm convinced she saw this thought cross my mind as she bit her lip again.
"Drop us off at the end of this block," Hanna's voice carried over the music.
Alison ignored this. She popped the top button of my jeans, lifting an eye brow slightly, her mouth open, and I could see her tongue pressed against her teeth.
She turned suddenly and said, "Drop us off here, my house is right there."
"But Ali, we're staying at m-" Hanna started as the truck came to a stop. But Ali had my hand forcefully in her grip and was dragging me out of the truck as she opened the door to jump out.
"Emily's coming with me," she said, matter-of-factly, glancing back at me with a fierce look, as if daring me to say no.
"Uh, see you tomorrow I guess?" Hanna yelled after us.
Ali didn't bother with a good-bye as she towed us across her yard. It was dark, black shadows cast long and sinewy across the grass. She fumbled with the keys to the lock before tugging me, hard, inside. As I almost fell over the threshold, she turned, trapping me against the closing door. Her hands were on both sides of my head. It was suddenly quiet inside the house, the air thick.
"Well?" she said.
I moved in to kiss her again. She pulled back. I grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her forward, finally capturing and tasting her lips, her mouth. She tasted like I remembered. Her tongue slid across mine, defiant yet soft and warm, as her hips pressed eagerly against me. It was like kissing something that was deftly trying to break free from you while also tethered and bound tightly. Kind of like how our relationship had always been. It had been so long.
As the kiss continued to deepen, I felt Ali really start to reveal how much she wanted this, wanted me. Our kiss was desperate, hungry, filled with years of repressed tension, barely controlled attraction. But something had snapped and neither of us could take it any more. One of my hands moved backward, under her skirt, taking hold of her ass. My other hand moved under her shirt, dragging my nails up her back. At this she tore away, pulling me upstairs. I kicked my shoes off as we charged into her bedroom. I followed, pushing her shirt up as she shut the door from under my arms. Her bra came off easily thanks to my now practiced hands. I was grateful, worried that any hiccup would cause her to stop. I continued to kiss her, unwilling to break contact for a single moment. I pushed her backward, pushing her skirt down as we made our way towards her bed.
Ali spun us around, seating me on the edge. She slowly took her heels off as I admired her in only her underwear. She climbed on top of my lap, wrapping her legs around my waist. Her thumb pressed across my lips as she pushed another hand through my black hair, her eyes looking more royal blue in the dark light. She kissed me again. Slowly. Languidly. As if, now that we were safe in her room, she could take her time. I'm reminded of how addictive kissing her was. She tastes sweet, dark, full, her.
Maybe this was why she wouldn't kiss me in the car. She knew I couldn't stop. She pulled my shirt up and off.
She pushed my back against the bed, and sat straddling me, looking down, a wave of blonde hair partially obscuring her face, my hands resting on her thighs. She walked her finger across the bare skin of my stomach, it tickled.
"You were really turning me on in the truck," she said. She made a faux thoughtful face. "Now how to punish you?"
She ground her hips into mine, slowly, like a pulse, causing me to involuntarily grab her waist, her ass. She took me quickly by the wrists and pinned them beside my head. She was directly over me, her lips inches from mine, her breasts slightly grazing my chest. It made my breath catch in the back of my throat.
"No touching. No kissing. And if you can't behave, I'm going to have to tie you up," she said with a lilt to her voice.
Jesus Christ, is this what we had missed out on? Was she joking? Did it matter?
I left my arms where they were, and she pulled my jeans off, taking everything with them. I realized there I was, again, naked in Ali's bed.
"Now don't move," she said, dipping downward. She moved her hands up both sides of my inner thigh, pushing, pulling, kneading. "Or I'll stop."
It was an effort not to move. She watched my struggle with the hint of a wicked smile.
Then I felt her tongue, trailing up, closer and closer to where both legs met.
"Ali," I said, moving my hips towards her.
"Don't move," she said sharply back.
I stopped, taking a deep breath. Her fingers began to toy with my clit, maddeningly with no rhythm, I knew she was teasing me. I balled my fists. But then I felt her fingers begin to move in circles, in tempo.
"Fuck," I breathed.
Then she pressed her tongue against me, into me, with a type of dexterity that an unbridled, animalistic moan escaped me. In a thousand lifetimes, I wouldn't have been able to control it. I gripped the bedspread as if holding on for dear life, and she continued, unperturbed. I stopped thinking straight, I felt everything.
My muscles ached, my legs were shaking, my body literally felt like it was on fire. I had the thought, Alison DiLaurentis is fucking me, and I was so overwhelmed by it, I wanted her body flush against me, I wanted her mouth on mine. I grabbed her head pulling her up to me. I pushed my tongue into her mouth, as she lifted my leg up, hooking one hand under my knee. She flattened me against the bed, her hips astride mine, pressing into my center. She placed her hand between us, her fingers slipping into me again, and began to grind against me, undulating in the rhythm of her hand movements.
Oh God, I thought. I was going to climax.
I broke away from her mouth.
"Alison," I said, practically yelling, drawing out her name, feeling like she herself had torn it from me. The orgasm rumbled through my body and as I spasmed, I felt her teeth on my throat, not quite a bite, not a nibble. I felt like she was marking me as hers. I was hers.
When I finally registered an ability to control myself again, I opened my eyes. She was holding herself above me, staring down at me. She looked different, like a an altered form of herself, her mouth open, her lips red and full, looking everything like the sexiest person I had ever known. She began to trace her forefinger nail down my jaw. I grabbed her hand, putting her finger into my mouth.
She made a noise, like a combination between a hum and an exhale, as I swirled my tongue around her finger tip. I flipped us over.
"My turn," I said.
I was going to make her cum. And I was going to bite her back.