A/N: Again, I don't own Instant Star.
Thanks for the reviews :D. They really do brighten a day. However, I'm not sure what interesting means.
Haha anyways, I adore constructive criticism above all.
In the car five minutes, and Jude was dead to the world, her head resting at an unnatural angle against the interior. Tommy sighed, knowing Jude wasn't going to provide good company, and turned the radio on a low level. "My Sweet Time" played through station, ironically enough. Seriously, what had Jude been doing late enough last night to be this tired? Writing an amazing single, Tommy hoped. Sleeping around wasn't Jude's deal, but the thought of her with another guy pissed Tommy off. He knew he had no right to jealousy, no right to her, but he couldn't let her go. She was his girl, no one else's.
"My Sweet Time" was quickly replaced with some over-played American pop band, and Tommy turned the radio off. He had to admit he didn't like them because they sounded a bit too much like a band he'd been familiar with in his day... A bit too familiar with. Tommy shook himself, shaking the thoughts of Boyz Attack away. Jude groaned quietly, and Tommy turned to look at her, relishing her every movement.
"Tommy?" Jude sighed, and Tommy immediately needed yet another cold shower.
"Yeah Jude." He reached out to stroke her face, pulling his fingers away at the last minute. Playful contact, he could handle. But sweet, just waking up Jude? That was a whole different story.
She's not mine, she's not mine. Tommy seemed to be saying that quite a bit recently, and he was pissed at himself for his newly adopted mantra. Jude was jailbait. Hands off, virgin territory, jailbait.
But he knew she was his. She was. And he was sure she believed it too. Even the most playful of touches seemed to linger, mark his skin, and all the play seemed to have a bit of a more serious, need-filled undertone.
"Are we there yet?" Jude propped her feet on the dash, and Tommy's skin crawled, imagining the scuff marks that might appear from such casual behavior around his baby. He bit back a scold, all the while noticing how this new position made her legs appear to never end. He had to stop thinking that way; it was going to get him in trouble. It was going to be the death of him.
"We'll get to the ferry in about ten minutes," he responded. "The ferry will take us to Rochester, where we'll rent a car and drive down to Canandaigua." (I know this closed a while ago, but bear with me.) Yeah, think about the itinerary, Tommy thought. Anything technical was better than thinking of Jude. Sex. Sex with Jude.
"Shit!" Jude cried, as Tommy yanked the steering wheel to the left, just in time to avoid running into the ditch. "Are you fucking trying to get us killed?" Fiery Jude was awake, up an' at 'em… Which Tommy decided was both a blessing and a curse.
"Sorry," Tommy mumbled. His eyes were on the road, but his mind was about as far away from driving as Buddhism from Catholicism. Tommy cringed as Jude dragged her feet down the glove compartment to the floor. Luckily, Converse didn't leave scuffs, or else he would have had to kick her out of the Viper, and that was something neither of them wanted.
Apparently, Tommy's estimation was a bit off, because less than five minutes later they arrived at the docks. Tommy slid the company credit card, which never got old, and grabbed their tickets from a pimply teenager, who in Tommy's opinion, seemed way too interested in Jude's ass to be effectively doing his job. Tommy grabbed Jude's arm and steered her from the ice cream vendor, but not before shooting a nasty look straight into the eyes of the ticket guy.
The seats were great, comfortable with a great view of the water, but Jude insisted on feeding the food-mongering birds before settling into one of the plastic chairs. Jude fell asleep pretty much immediately, and Tommy watched the water, concentrating on the birds, the waves, the shore- trying desperately to keep his attention from straying back to Jude. He was almost half-successful before Jude snuggled into his shoulder. Apparently she was pretty comfortable, because for about ten minutes, she showed no inclination to move. Tommy had no inclination to move her when her hair smelled so enticingly like vanilla and lavender, but Jude grew restless. Before Tommy could stop her, she sort of slipped onto him, throwing one arm over his shoulder, her whole chest pressing into his. Tommy was doomed, he was going to kiss her.