PART FOUR: Fuck the Rules; Find Your Truth
BSAA HQ, 2005
The hair was darker, the build was bigger again. More muscle, less laughter. Where had his laughter gone? She leaned in the door frame, watching him.
"Mr. Kennedy. What brings you to my humble abode?"
"May I come in?"
"I don't know. Last time I let you in, you left without a word."
How could she equate that boy with this man? He was all controlled energy and power. He fairly radiated it. He impressed without trying. He was a stranger standing there. And she longed for him. But she missed the baby faced boy with the sense of humor. Surely he was still in there.
Again, she knew he was younger than her. It didn't matter but it was interesting. A baby in Raccoon City. A baby she'd put her mouth all over. Lord.
"Yeah I did. Let me in, Jill."
What was it with the men in her life trying to get in lately? She should close the door and ignore all of them. Chris deserved to be let in. He'd earned it.
She wasn't sure yet about Leon Kennedy. The want was there, oh yeah, but the rest? He was a study in contradictions. He was in her, somewhere, she just didn't know what it meant yet.
He blew hot, he blew cold. He was full of feelings. He didn't hide them really, not like Chris. He felt it and showed it and let it roll. Leon Kennedy was a rollercoaster of laughter and sex and stifling need. He was in her, somewhere, she just didn't know if she wanted him there.
"Say please."
Oh, she loved the flash of frustration in those icy eyes. Good. Let him be frustrated. She was too. He couldn't think he could just pop in and out of her life and shake it up and walk away without a word. She lifted a brow at him. "Mr. Kennedy, you're not very good at polite conversation. Say please."
And he laughed. He shook his head and laughed. "Christ I've missed you. Let me in."
She'd missed him too. And she leaned on the door again, pursing her lips. "Yeah? How come?"
"Yeah. I like women who are snarky and sexy, it seems."
"Snarky? That's quite a word. You know what else is a word? Please."
He laughed again and executed an adorable little bow to her. "I give up. You win. Please may I come in side?"
"May even? You're so upper crusty. Is it the WASP thing?"
"Probably. It won't let me use bad grammar too often. I do it though, I'm a rebel like that."
Jill laughed a little. He was something. "Yeah you are. The hair is your big rebellion though. How's daddy feel about that hair at Christmas? I bet he can't believe his son won't get a respectable hair cut. I would have thought you'd fall in line and cut it by now."
Leon leaned on the wall across from her room. He crossed his arms over his chest. He stuck one boot against the wall and grinned. "It started out a way to get on his nerves. But now I think it's my best feature. You think I should cut it?"
Surely not. He was all muscle under that stupid shirt. And that face was ridiculous it was so gorgeous. She lifted a brow at him. "Are you kidding? No. Not ever. I want to see how it looks when you're forty or seventy and going gray. Also, proving you are both blind, stupid, and possibly without hope. You make the hair, Mr. Kennedy, not the other way around."
"I thought it was the clothes that made the man."
"The clothes help. What's the shirt today? Hugo Boss?"
"Nah. That's my jacket."
"Spoiled brat."
"Jealous bitch."
She laughed again. There it was. The humor on his face. It took the edge away. It made him touchable. It made her hungry for him.
Which, of course, was why he needed to go away.
"I don't think today is the day you get to come inside."
Stupid thing to say. Stupid. She'd walked right into it. Chris would have turned it funny. She just KNEW Leon Kennedy would make it hot.
"Let me inside and we'll both come."
Bingo.
Jill lifted her brows and grinned. "That was very dirty, Agent Kennedy. And not at all in line with the mission protocol."
"Fuck it. I don't always follow the mission protocol."
"I heard that. You're a bit of a loose cannon that way."
"You prefer guys who follow the rules right? Like Redfield. Mr. Protocol. Doesn't play outside the rules. You know who follows rules all the time? Guys with no balls."
What was in that tone? Oh, it felt like power to hear it. What was that? Jealousy? "Really? I heard those guys were the ones who sneak out of bed with a girl in the middle of night without saying goodbye."
"…ouch." But he was grinning.
"Yeah. The great hammer of god, scared of his own feelings. How embarrassing for you."
"Nice sidestep on the Redfield issue."
"You're jealous of him. It makes you mean. I don't play into silly boy drama."
"Jealous? Of what? I can jab myself full of roids too. But I like having a big dick."
"Do you? I cant seem to remember, "Jill laughed again, leaning in the doorway. "You think he doesn't have one too?"
"Ouch." He thought she was fabulous. She gave shit like a man and looked like a goddess. What a creature. Leon lifted a brow. "You saying he does?"
"I don't kiss and tell, Mr. Kennedy. Which is good for you, considering what I know."
Ah. That got him. And there was that flash of memory on his face. Oh yeah, she thought, he was hot for it. She'd been reading men all her life. He was jealous, true, but it was good. It made her feel good. She liked him jealous. "You don't kiss at all, Jill Valentine. Which is killing me."
"I kiss lots of people. The ones who stick around to say good morning. Chris says good morning all the time, by the way."
His smile was wolfish. "I bet he does. It's probably up tight and boring too, like he is. Let me in. I'll say good morning to you in ten different languages. And I'll do it naked on top of you."
Little prick. She was impressed with the arrogance. She laughed a little bit.
"Go back to your room, hotshot. You're playing with fire here."
"I tend to do that. Tell me you don't want me to and I'll go back to my room."
"What do you think is going to happen here, Leon? I'm not some simpering girl looking for your attention. There's plenty all over the place here. Go find one of them to flirt with."
"Can't do it. And you don't want me to anyway. Quit pretending. Let me in."
Arrogant bastard. She leaned back on the door, amused. "You aren't as charming as you think you are, sir. I promise you."
"Yeah?" He pushed away from the wall and moved toward her. "Prove it. And let me in."
"Give me one good reason why."
"Because my heads so full of you I can't even focus on anything else. Tell me you don't know that."
Oh…goodness. It was a good answer.
He was close now and smelled amazing. Something expensive and yummy. Yummy, Mira had said, she was right. Yummy.
"What happens when you come in?"
He was a few feet away now and moving closer, "I don't know. Let's find out."
Neither of them noticed the two girls standing down the hallway, peeking around to watch them. They couldn't possibly know how the gossip mill would start turning later. It would have been ok. It really would have. But he closed the last few feet and was right in front of her.
He bracketed his arms on either side of the door frame while she leaned on the door. Any girl on earth could see what was happening there. He was very close to her now. She grappled at the handle to the door and kept her hands locked there, keeping her arms behind her back. She wouldn't touch him. It wouldn't help anything if she did.
"I don't think you should come in." And her voice squeaked a little, delighting him and embarrassing her a little bit. He leaned down enough to scent her. She felt the brush of his nose on her nose. Good lord.
He was so very close. "Why not?"
"We're on duty."
He glanced at her mouth and kept his eyes there, "Yeah. Story of my life."
"Flirting distracts from the mission, Mr. Kennedy."
"Don't care. I want to touch you. Let me in, Jill. Please."
She studied him. There was something written on his face again that moved her. She said, softly, "They call you Mr. Death because you rain it around you everywhere you go."
"They call you The Immortal because you never die."
"They say you killed Curtis Miller with your bare hands in a fist fight."
"They say you fought off a hundred mutants without a single weapon."
"They said you're sleeping with Claire."
"They said you're having Chris' baby."
"They lie."
"Yeah they do."
She leaned back and kept the door in her hand. The girls at the end of the hallway kept peeking around. A guy started to walk passed and they stopped him, shaking their heads. He peeked as well and lifted his brows, bobbling them.
One whispered, "I think the executioner is in love with Jill Valentine."
The other girl giggled, "He's so cute. I heard he never touches girls though."
The guy peeked around the corner, "I think he's going to be touching one in a minute."
One of the girls said, "If she sends him away, I'm going after him."
The other girl giggled, "He'll turn you down. Look at how he's looking at her. You ever seen a guy look at you like that before?"
"No," The first girl sighed, "But I've never been looked at by Leon Kennedy."
The boy rolled his eyes, "You women. What's the deal with him? He has girl hair. And he's skinny."
The second girl giggled again, "It's just men that hate the hair. Seriously. It's like…rock star hot. He flirts and flirts. Is there a girl alive that isn't in love with him? He's untouchable. We love it."
The boy said, "Pretty sure she's about to touch him."
The first girl said, "Lucky bitch."
In the doorway, Jill tilted her head, looking at him. "Damnit. Now you've been out here too long. Someone is going to see you. What do you want, Leon?"
"I want to come inside…" He was so close. Soooo close. She thought, desperately, don't finish the statement. Don't. But he did, thrilling them both with the whisper of it, "…you."
Her mind said: MISTAKE. Her body said, "Fuck…don't."
He said, an inch from her mouth, "So stop me."
He came through the door. She let him in. He scooped her off her feet, held her to his front with one arm around her, and she held on as he carried her back, kicking the door closed behind them. He pressed her against the wall.
At the end of the hallway, the boy said, "Get it dude! That's the first time I respected the guy. That's how you get the girl man. I'd give a ball to be in that room with her right now."
And the girls giggled...just in time for Barry Burton to come around the corner. Naturally, the gossip mill had just started to churn.
Leon said, pinning her there against the wall, "I want to kiss you."
She answered, whispering, "Not today, Mr. Kennedy."
He groaned and put his face against her neck. She slid her fingers into his hair held him. "Are you falling in love with me, Leon Kennedy? We talked about this."
And he laughed against her neck. "I left that morning."
It was muffled against her skin. She nodded, holding on, "You did."
"I should tell you why."
"No. You don't owe me answers, Leon. Seriously."
He nipped at her neck and brought her breath in a sigh. "I'm a mess, Jill. No lie. I have so many issues I should be a poster child for abstinence."
She laughed a little and he leaned back to look into her face. Claire had put her hands on him in Harvardville. She'd opened some damn door there that he'd shut after he'd seen Jill last. He'd run away to lick his wounds and think about his life. There'd been something there between them, no lie. But what could he offer her?
What could he offer her now? Claire had been quick to backpedal and put that little experiment to bed. But it left him confused. All these women in his life…what did they want from him? Only Jill, here and now, seemed to expect nothing from him.
Was it why he'd craved her for so long? All of his sweaty, torturing, amorous dreams about her. He'd probably fucked her in his head a thousand times since that night. He'd played with her body like his guitar, strumming her until she sang for him. She had replaced Ada in his mind as his go to filthy wet dream.
Could he be around her and not put his hands on her? She rebuked him, refused him, flirted with him and climbed in the shower. She was a playful little thing that pushed all his buttons. Clever and fun and vivacious. He enjoyed her probably more than anyone he'd ever met. She was so gorgeous she hurt his head looking at her. She acted like a man in one hand. She flirted without being stupid about it, dirty words and honest feelings. He dug it. Straight up dug it.
He hated Chris Redfield. Hated him. Because he knew there was something there with them. And he hated it. He was sorta hoping the other man would pick a fight about it. He couldn't get her out of his head.
And her body was his constant wet dream. He should focus on the mission, yep, but he had to touch her first. Had to. Or he'd go down into the mission hard as a rock and lose his way. He'd toss her against the wall of whatever shit hole they emerged in and drill her through her wet suit.
Testing them both, he slipped his hand under her shirt. She was braless. And obviously the gods were testing his soul. He nearly died on the spot. His hands bracketed her ribcage and brushed at the undersides of those breasts. She made some sound and leaned into him. Leon groaned a little and dropped his forehead against hers. His hand came up and cupped one, soft and heavy. He could feel her heart hammering through her breast. His echoed it, thundering in his blood.
They both held on for a long moment. Kiss me, she thought, now is when you kiss me.
"You couldn't have worn a bra? Geezus."
Jill laughed a little, breathily, "I was changing when you knocked. I just threw on the shirt."
"You're killing me here."
"What a way to die."
"No shit. I should go get ready for this mission right? That's what I should do."
"You should, yep. You really should." She drew his earlobe into her mouth and sucked on it. He made some sound of hunger and filled both of his hands with her breasts. Clearly this was NOT prepping for the mission. It was prepping for something. But it had nothing to do with storming the objective.
"What do you want to do now, Mr. Kennedy? They're probably waiting for us." Her voice was hoarse with need. Kiss me, she thought, you big idiot.
He didn't. But he didn't stop either. He palmed her breasts and played with her, bringing sounds from her mouth that were sort of inhuman with hunger. His mouth settled on her neck and suckled.
She tried to find something under his shirt to touch. But it was snug and tight and tucked into his pants. She finally found the end of it and lifted it to touch his back. The shoulder holster stopped her from touching too much. She gasped out a sound of denied longing.
Tired of playing, he put his teeth on her through her shirt. He sucked her breast into his mouth through the fabric and nearly killed her. She gasped and grabbed at his face to hold on. There was that nearly unstoppable hunger in him for her that made her feel like she was on fire.
He jerked her shirt up and put his mouth on her. She stumbled a little back and ended up sitting on the edge of her desk. Her hand knocked off her notebook and a series of pens. They tumbled to the floor in a clatter of sound. She grabbed the edge of the desk and held on. He didn't stop, couldn't. He just kept feasting on her.
The shirt tumbled back to settle on the crown of his head. Her hands gripped him, holding on. He was a boob guy, clearly. And she had plenty for him. They were heavy and full and sensitive. He lavished them with tongue and teeth and torture until she was pretty sure she'd die from it. He put his face in them, on them, and left them rosy and covered in delicate teeth marks. They were tender from the attention in a way she hadn't ever experienced. He palmed her, rolled her, played with her like he was learning her sounds and her skin. He tasted her through the shirt, under the shirt, watched her face while he plucked at her. It was like he was studying her reactions to see what she liked. It was ungodly hot.
Leon looped his arm around her and pulled her off the desk. He tossed her on the bed and came down atop her while she was still mid bounce. She made some desperate sound again with a laugh and put her hands on him. She couldn't get the shirt off with the shoulder holster in the way but she gave it her best shot. She put her nails on his back and jerked, watching him.
Oh yeah, she thought, there it was. The brief flash of pain fired through him like it did for her. That was it. That was the connection. They both liked a little teeth and nails. She jerked at his holster and pushed it off his shoulders. The gun settled onto the bed beside them. She lifted her hands under that shirt and raked those nails over his chest.
He grunted and thrust his body against her, bouncing the bed beneath her with the force of it. That was his trigger, she thought as the blood pushed into her groin and made her heavy with need. The executioner liked for her to hurt him a little. She was on fire for him. She wanted to know what he tasted like. She'd had enough playing. She wiggled out of her shirt and jerked at his, pulling it up and off him.
He dropped his upper body to press against her and that tantalizing naked contact made them both react. Her hands roamed up his back and pulled him closer, crushing her breasts against him. She loved that look on his face. It was wonder and want and an almost soft sense of something else.
She rolled him under her and rose above him. She rubbed herself over his body and thrilled them both with it. He filled his hands with her breasts and watched her face. He figured out quickly what she liked and gave it to her, bringing her breath in heavy and hungry pants. She cruised her hands over his chest and mirrored it, almost petting him. She leaned down and wanted, wanted, wanted to kiss him. Instead she turned her face and bit down his neck, bringing the goosebumps to his skin that delighted her. She angled down his chest, licking at his nipples and watching him to see how he liked it. He loved it and the teeth she set against him next. She wanted to taste him. She'd waited long enough to know the taste of him. She wanted to die feasting on him.
Jill put her mouth on his stomach, sinking her teeth in hard enough to bring his mouth open in a hoarse sound of greed. She whipped the tongue of his belt free from his pants and jerked at his zipper. What was fascinating was that his hands moved as if to stop her. They caught at her face and held her. She met his eyes and set her teeth against him through the denim.
He made some kind of desperate sound and let go of her face. She rolled her face and kissed his palm, kissing one of those scratchy tactical gloves.
There was something dirty to the idea of putting her mouth on the right hand of the president. The guy who'd sat stoically, impassively, in that conference room and rolled a paper weight in his gloved hand while he waited patiently to be given his assignment. The guy who was so good they only sent him and him alone to do the job. The guy who turned down any girl that tossed herself at him…save for her. Jesus he was perfect. She bit again at that perfect washboard stomach. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Where was his flaw? She licked over the fine scatter of scars on him. Still perfect…even when they were imperfect. The scars said survivor.
She cupped his face and looked at him. What was that look in those eyes? He'd been so confident when he'd come inside her room. Why was he so nervous now? She found it adorable and just like him. He was a complex creature.
She lowered her mouth to lick at him. She bit at his collarbone and tasted the saltiness of his skin. She rubbed her nose in the fine sprinkly hair on his chest. He tasted like something she'd probably die addicted to.
He cupped her face and watched that pink mouth lick and roll across him. Lord, was there any other guy in the universe in as much as hell as him right now? He had never wanted anything more than what was licking across his stomach. She was sin and sex and speed. She literally made his heart race.
This was probably the right time to tell her about this kind of thing. She put her mouth on him through his briefs and he was pretty sure he couldn't make three words string together. It would likely be gibberish if he tried. She sucked him through the fabric and his eyes crossed. He said something but it wasn't English. He wasn't sure it was actually a legitimate language.
Jill laughed, enraptured with him. The Executioner was adorable. He looked like he might pass out or die there beneath her. He really was the cutest thing she'd ever seen.
Apparently with a mouth near his dick, he tried to talk Klingon or something. He could have said no, should have told her all about his lack of experience in this department, but she pulled the length of him free and he couldn't remember what the hell he'd been about to say anyway.
Jill settled herself over him and licked him. His hands scrambled, grabbed the pillow behind his head, and held fast. She licked him again, almost teasing. Leon made some sound in this throat. She rolled her eyes up his body and smiled, sweetly. Her heart was hammering so hard she thought it might jump out of her chest at the look of him there. He looked terrified and thrilled and desperate. And gorgeous. That face…it would haunt her forever. She could look at him until she went blind.
She licked him, watching him bow, watching him gasp. She watched the muscles in his arms bunch in that pillow. God, she craved him. She licked at the salty spill of him and figured it was the best thing she'd ever tasted. She wanted the whole thing. She watched his face while she took the whole length of him into her mouth.
He was pretty sure he was dead. Nobody anywhere could feel this fire in their belly, blood, and balls and not drop dead from it. He shouted or cursed or something and jerked his hips toward her. She didn't bother to stop, she just bobbed up and down on him like a relentless, talented, torturous goddess of sex and sucking dick. She feasted like she'd finish him off and take it with her when she was done.
He'd probably let her. As long as she didn't stop.
She had settled herself between his legs and cupped him under his ass around the hips to milk him with that mouth. She went to town, diving and driving that amorous mouth over the pulse of his aching need with an endless hunger. His hands shifted and caught in her hair, twisting sort of desperately. He tried to pull her back, to let her know he was too close, she was pushing too fast. He gasped out her name and thrilled her, thrilled her. She knew he was close. She didn't stop, she moved faster, hungry for him in ways she couldn't even begin to understand. The orgasm built in his body like a tidal wave. It smashed into his guts and robbed his brain of thought. He, gasped out, a little desperately, "Wait..wait.."
Go, she thought, go go go. And she felt him bow, jerk, and give up.
He didn't pull her off, he held her down on him. He didn't mean to. He wasn't trying to force her but he jerked and shot into her mouth, almost ridiculously fast and hard. He'd made some sound of surrender and couldn't stop it from ripping out of his body like a feral beast. She didn't resist, she absorbed, holding him almost gently to her mouth until he shuddered, shivered, and relaxed. She rolled the softening length of him in her mouth and tortured them both. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything sexier than the sight of her there rolling the taste of him around in her mouth.
Where had she been all his life?
She released him from her mouth with a wet pop of sound. She didn't leave him a drop of himself to linger there. She tucked him back in and zipped him up. He dragged her up to him by the hair. He crushed their bodies together and grabbed her ass to grind her against his body. She made some sound of eager expectation.
He whispered, "I want to be inside you."
She laughed, breathily, "Not today, Mr. Kennedy."
"When?"
"You'll know when."
Jill moved away and he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back. He rolled her beneath him and pinned her arms over her head. They stared at each other from inches away. He said, "I want to put my mouth on you."
She shivered, delighted, "Yeah?"
"Oh yeah. Do you taste like raspberries and cream? I bet you do."
He was pretty good with the dirty talk. His legendary sarcasm and humor didn't say anything about dirty talk. He was eloquent with it even while he was dirty.
She leaned up and whispered, "I taste better."
"I believe that."
"Try me and see."
Leon shifted and jerked at her pants. He put his mouth to her belly, to the top of her pubic bone. She gasped, laughed softly, and speared her hands into his hair. He lowered her pants a little more and kissed her there over her panties. The laughter was lost in anticipation.
She seemed eager to let him play with her body. She wouldn't care about his ineptitude. He'd play it off and watch her body for signs. She was all signs and signals. He loved it.
If he wasn't careful, he was going to fall in love with her. He licked at her over her panties and watched her gasp, keeping her eyes on him. She leaned up on her elbows to watch him. Jesus. He held her eyes and set his teeth against her, lightly, through her damp panties. Her eyes blurred but held on.
He snaked his tongue around the edge of her panties to taste her. Just a flicker. Just a lick. Better, she'd said. She was right. She was better.
He watched her watch him taste her.
She trembled, gasping, "...Jesus."
It was definitely a holy moment. His breath hitched when he whispered, "I want to be inside you, Jill" How? Tongue? Fingers? Dick? All of it. Any of it. Forever. He couldn't imagine ever wanting to leave. They'd probably die wrapped together.
What a way to go.
She didn't care anymore...she just nodded, and sorta stole his soul with it.
He tugged down her yoga pants and she kicked her feet, helping him. Those racehorse legs of her were slim and perfect. They were strong and sleek. The pants lodged at her ankles and clung. But they didn't matter anymore. He set his teeth against her damp panties and bit her, gentle, slow.
Jill grabbed his face and made a sound like a keen, shaking like a leaf. She was going to make this easy for him. He was going to watch her fall apart and bury himself in her.
He wanted to fuck her. It was that simple. But it wasn't. It really wasn't. Because he wanted to watch her face while they fucked. He wanted to hold her afterward.
He wanted to make love to her - and the idea scared the shit out of him. His palm pressed over panties, rubbing until they were soaked with her eager juices. She purred, or something, she took his face to bring him up.
She kissed his mouth, face flushed, eyes closed. His stayed open, watching her. He murmured, "You want me to kiss you?"
And she gasped, "I want you inside me...everywhere."
Jesus.
He slid his hand up to push her panties to the side. Hers shifted to grip his wrists. He stroked his thumbs down the slick line of her cunt and licked her mouth. She opened for him - legs, lips, heart.
One of his hands peeled her panties to the side. She humped her hips toward him, eager and ready.
He grabbed for his belt and his zipper. Now or never. Now or ne-
Her communicator beeped loudly on the dresser. "ETD fifteen minutes. Please report to promenade deck three."
His flushed face raised to hers. She said, hoarsely, "I think we're on duty."
Leon laughed a little. He ground his head against her excited body and made her moan. She was right behind him. Frustrated, she watched him pull up her pants. He said, "Story of my life."
He rolled to his feet. She did the same.
"So, we'll finish this when we get back then."
"Count on it."
She slipped on her t-shirt. He did the same, strapping on his holster. She hated each piece of clothing that came between them. He hated his job. Right this minute, he hated his fucking job.
He opened the door to the room and she followed him into the hallway. He glanced up and down the hallway and moved back to her. She knew she shouldn't, it was risky, anyone could see them. But he she let him press her against the wall and press his forehead to hers. She let him.
Because she couldn't, not let him. Her hands came up to wrap around his wrists and hold. She said, softly, "Mr. Kennedy, I think you might be trying to make me long for you."
"How's that workin?"
"It's working.'
His communicator beeped again and he drew back, sighing a little. "Fucking job."
She laughed, delighted. "We chose it right?"
He glanced down at the press of her breasts beneath that little t-shirt. "I'm going to have to stare at you in a wet suit for the next eighteen hours or so. I'm not sure if this is the best or the worst job on earth at the moment."
Jill shrugged, "It's all how you choose to see it."
"This is true."
He put his hand on her through that t-shirt. She moaned a little and leaned into him. He turned his head to kiss her. Yeah, she thought, now works. She angled her mouth to his. He was a breath away from her and his communicator beeped again, He cursed with frustration, "I'm fucking coming. Jesus."
"I wish I was coming too."
And now he laughed, frustrated and let go of her breast. He ground his forehead against her chest, thrilling her with his frustration. "Ditto. Ms. Valentine."
"Mr. Kennedy."
He punched the wall beside her head, lightly. And kissed her, hard, just once on the mouth.
She made a little moan and tried to hold on to him. He grabbed her and tilted her face up to him.
She said, "Kiss me. Now. Kiss now."
"Now? In the hallway?"
"Yeah. Now. In the hallway. Please."
"Please? Please. Yeah now. Now is good." They both laughed a little in frustration. His thumb stroked the soft skin where he neck and chin met. He shifted, shifted again, and tried to find the right angle to kiss her. It was charming.
She licked his mouth. He moved to push his mouth on hers and was brought up short.
The communicator beeped once more.
With a filthy curse, he pulled away from her with another punch on the wall. "God damn job."
She whispered, "God damn job."
He laughed. She laughed. He flattened his hands on the wall beside her head and touched his forehead to hers. She grabbed at his shirt and fisted her hands there.
Another beep.
He slapped the wall on either side of her head and pushed off, cursing again. "Let's get this shit over with."
She laughed a little, "Yes. Please."
He moved down the hallway and away. She pressed a hand to the base of her throat. What was he doing to her? She wasn't sure but she knew she didn't want it to stop. She watched his ass until he turned the corner in the hallway.
And then she let out a shaky, desperate, sort of delighted laugh.
