Simon is staring at her cheekily when she walks into the bar, like he has about a million questions. With the lack of phone in her dorm they can no longer just chat about boys and gossip about other people in their friend circle. And she knows she's going to get about a million questions about Harvey that she isn't fully prepared to answer. For once, she is silently praying for a busy night so she can avoid being interrogated.
She isn't going to be so lucky, she knows, when Simon pushes the door open and enters. He's smirking like he knows something. He doesn't. He barely even knows Harvey. He barely even let him speak.
"No," she says immediately, "No."
"No what? You don't even know what I was going to say," Simon replies.
"Yes, I do," she insists, "And the answer is no...But not for lack of trying."
"You turned him down?" Simons says accusingly.
"Not exactly," she mutters, a little grumpy about it. She sighs and finally turns to face her friend. She says, "It's complicated."
Simon looks at her pointedly, telling her to dish. She could tell him everything including how embarrassing he was at dinner, but she doesn't have the time. She really has to get to work.
"He has a lot going on," she replies, like she's making excuses for reasons why he won't sleep with her.
"Sure he does," Simon replies in a sing song, "I have a date tonight but dish tomorrow over lunch?"
"Actually," she says slowly, "I can't."
She feels his hand press against the center of her back as they approach the entrance to the subway. He's just a half step behind her as they descend the stairs, his body just to her left. She grasps the handrail like she's terrified she'll lose her balance. When they reach the bottom of the concrete stairs, she looks over at him. He must feel her eyes on him because he looks at her and offers her a smile.
He pulls his metro card out of his pocket and swipes it, pressing his fingers against her back in a presumed attempt to usher her ahead. She steps through the spinner and waits for him on the other side. She feels him slide up behind her, his shoulder lightly tapping against hers as his hand returns to her back. As they approach the train tracks, she feels his arm more fully press against her shoulder blades. They come to a stop near a column where their train will come to a halt.
"Thanks for coming with me," he says quietly, barely audible as a small crowd begins to form near them. She turns her body to face him then, her hands finding his hips as she steps more closely to him. "Dad gave me his credit card and told me to pick out something nice. I don't think he trusts my judgment though."
"That's why I'm here," she replies, "I have excellent taste."
"Obviously," he jests with a grin.
She lightly shakes her head, her hands slipping beneath his jacket seeking his warmth on her arms. She feels herself smiling at his charm, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her closer to his chest. She'd guess they look like two people who are very comfortable with each other. No one would ever know they really only met 5 days ago. She's such a fool.
They wait another 5 minutes like that for the train to arrive. When it does, it's practically empty, so they take a seat close to the door. She feels his knees press against hers, his thigh flush against hers, and she looks at him to see him smirking. She settles her arms on her legs, her fingertips tapping against his thigh near his knee.
The train ride isn't too long, only two stops before they get off. They exit the subway onto the street and she's particularly cold now. It isn't winter weather, but the warmth he'd been offering her on the train is certainly missed. She feels his hand absently brush against hers as they turn onto Broadway.
They find Bloomingdales and go inside, heading directly for the men's department. She can tell by his hesitation that he's probably never done this before, probably not without his father or mother present to tell him everything that he needs to know. They work in somewhat of a silence, spreading apart to look for something for him to wear.
He finds a black suit. She finds a gray and a blue and also a pinstripe one. She sends him to the dressing room where a woman immediately takes to helping him to a stall. She follows and waits outside of the dressing room for him to come out.
He first comes out wearing the black suit. Black suits are always a good idea because they can fit multiple occasions. He does already have a black suit though, she knows because she saw him wearing it a few days ago. Next he tries on the blue suit. She likes it on him. It looks shiny. It works with his stubble on his face and the slight messiness of his hair. He tries on the pinstripe one after. She doesn't like it as much. It makes him look like a pimp. Lastly, he tries on the gray suit. She thinks it would look perfect with a solid colored tie.
She should be studying, learning lines for her audition. She should be doing anything but what she's actually doing. She's flirting, hardcore, with a boy in her bed who looks like he could destroy her. He smiles easily and when he touches her she feels electricity. And, honestly, there really isn't any reason he shouldn't be having sex with her.
When she looks at him, she sees that mischievous glint in his eye. He's cute, knows what he wants, and he gets it if he goes after it. She knows he has to want her or he wouldn't be putting forth so much effort to see her.
The entire day has been wasted on nothing. After picking out his suits (they chose the gray and the blue), they went to a little Thai place for a bite to eat. The food was shitty and he said as much, but he ate it anyway.
They left the Thai place and went back to her dorm. Her roommate is gone for the weekend, and she doesn't have to work. Even though he had mentioned going home to Long Island for some family dinner tomorrow, he's in her dorm for the long haul. She's been pressing her side against his with enthusiasm in an attempt to distract him from nothing in particular. She knows it's been working because he hasn't flipped the page in nearly half an hour.
She can feel the tips of her fingers rattling with desire every time he looks at her. She's on edge around him. She feels like it's now or never, like the moment he gets his own place he won't have any use for her anymore, and she'd really like to say she at least got more than a few meals from him out of the ordeal. At least, maybe, if she could give him some coercion to keep coming around.
And he's kissed her a few times today since they've been back in the dorm, the chain locked, the building practically abandoned for the weekend. They both have more important things they should be doing other than distracting one another from those important things, but she just wants to feel his arms wrapped around her again. She's completely pathetic.
"You're going to miss your train," she says, a slight sing-song voice slipping out.
"I know," he replies teasingly, "I don't want to leave just yet."
"You don't have to," she says, "You can stay."
"I like hanging out with you," he says.
She feels shy suddenly, dropping her gaze to her lap and focusing her eyes there. She feels his hand lightly touch her knee and trickle up her thigh, the hair standing up on her crossed legs at his touch. She feels his other hand sweep her hair away from her face, fingertips brushing over her neck. She feels a warm gush of wind against her neck before she feels his lips press against her skin.
She shivers and tilts her head, pressing her skin more into his lips. The moisture gathers against her skin beneath his lips and her hand comes up to his cheek. Her fingers press against his stubble as she sucks in a deep breath, and she feels the air leaving her body. His tongue quickly sweeps over her skin and his lips immediately evade the crevice of her neck.
She releases a breath deep from her chest but his mouth finds hers before she can even properly breathe again. His tongue sweeps over her bottom lip, her mouth parting beneath his and giving him access. They kiss for a few minutes before she realizes that she can't breathe, and she presses her hand against his shoulder. Panting, she wraps her hand around his wrist like she needs his support.
"Hey," he says softly, "Are you okay?"
She nods and twists her fingers into his shirt. She pushes herself from her sitting position and straddles his lap. She lowers herself down onto his thighs while circling his cheeks with her palms, and she kisses him. His hands immediately circle her waist, fingers pressing hard into her hipbones.
She feels his hands slip beneath the hem of her shirt, his soft fingertips lightly scratching against her skin. She sighs against his mouth as his nails dig into the small of her back. She arches her stomach into his, hands sliding to his shoulders. She feels his palms press against her back and he rolls her onto her back.
He presses himself between her parted legs, his pelvis digging into hers. She moans softly, her thighs tightening against his hips, and she bets she sounds ridiculous right now. He pulls back slightly with a smirk, a stupidly adorable smirk, and she can feel a warmth in her stomach at his expression.
Her hands grasp at his black t-shirt, pushing it up his back. She feels him shiver, his weight pressing hard against her as he juts himself forward. She tugs on his shirt, surprised when he actually helps her take his shirt off. She drops it on the floor.
She moves her foot up to the back of his knee, and her hands smooth over his exposed chest. She takes him in, her eyes trailing down his torso, her hands quickly following the trail of ger eyes. His stomach muscles flex beneath her fingertips. She lets her hand slip a little further down, easily finding the button in his jeans and popping them open.
"Wait," he mutters suddenly, and she audibly groans this time. His eyebrows quickly furrow in response like he's annoyed at the fact she's frustrated they're in this position again. He shakes his head then, his fingers etching a pattern against her arm. "I don't have a...you know. Do you?"
"No," she admits with a sigh. Of course he would be responsible enough to think of that before it got too far. Of course he would prove himself to be so wonderful once again.
"Okay," he says with the release of an exaggerated breath and a nod, "It's okay. You wait here. I'll be right back."
"Yeah," she says with a nod. She relents then and sighs. He sits up while buttoning his jeans back, her movement quickly following his. "Hurry back though."
He nods with a smirk. She's taken a little off guard when he leans over to kiss her again before he even puts on his shirt. Her hands press against his chest, feeling the warmth of him. The kiss is fleeting, but reassuring. She watches him silently as he picks his shirt up off of the floor and pulls it on over his head. He seems reluctant as he puts on his shoes and grabs his jacket as he leaves.
She takes a moment to gather herself, at least knowing that he'll be back because he's left his bag and his suits are still hanging up in her closet. She decides to do a little cleaning up around the room, primarily putting all of his books together and placing them on the desk next to hers. She shimmies out of her jeans, tossing them into her pile of dirty clothes. She throws her top into the dirty pile and gets under the sheets. She waits there for a few minutes when he comes back in, quickly locking the door and chain behind him. She thinks he might be out of breath.
"Took you long enough," she says with a grin.
"You wouldn't believe the line at the convenience store," he replies. He shrugs his jacket off and drapes it over the back of her desk chair. He kicks off his shoes and pulls his shirt off, dropping it to the floor again. "Where were we?"
She peels the blanket back a bit, giving him a look at her state of dress. He openly gawks at her attire, or lack there of, his gaze trailing over her white skin. His hands seem to be faster than his legs as she feels his fingertips press against her exposed stomach before he can even climb into her open arms. She feels his warm breath touch her shoulder before his wet lips slowly follow. Her hands return to the button of his jeans. His lips slide over her skin, trailing a path to her mouth, until he kisses her again.
She unzips his pants, both hands grabbing the jeans by the waist and shoving them down his hips. He releases a low groan against her mouth, her hands sticking to his skin. She feels his hands push over her skin, peeling away at her until she's completely naked. She already pushed his jeans halfway down his legs before he fully kicks them off. He sucks her bottom lip between his teeth when she goes in for the kill, her hand slipping into his boxers.
Her fingers wrap around the length of him. She strokes him a few times which makes him kiss her harder. She feels like she's about to explode, pulling her knees up to slide her legs around his waist. She's practically begging for him as his chest slides over hers. They are both sloppy and uncoordinated as his boxers move over his hips, freeing his erection from confinement. He sighs as he pulls his mouth from hers, the soft echo nearly making her toes curl.
He finds one of the condoms he'd bought and rips open the packaging, lacking a significant amount of grace. She takes it from him, using both hands to roll the latex up his length. The urgency is apparent. He seeks her hand with his, entwining their fingers. He pushes into her so slowly that it makes her body ache. She tightens her legs around his waist, making him go deeper into her, all the while his eyes stay locked on hers.
He slowly rolls his hips, the weight of his pelvis against hers making her feel like their bones are grinding together. She moans softly, her other hand coming up to his back and pulling him close to her. His shoulder taps her chin as he thrusts a little faster and a little deeper, and her mouth parts as she presses it against his collarbone. Her tongue slides over his skin at first, then she uses her teeth to tug on it as he thrusts more, and lastly she bites down and sucks to leave her mark against his skin.
He squeezes her hand tighter as he thrusts harder, and her bite loosens so she can breathe. He thrusts until his hands are tangled in her hair, her fingers grasp his flesh tightly, and she can feel herself orgasming so hard that it knocks the wind out of her. She moans loudly, his name only barely falling out of her mouth, and he kisses her so incredibly hard that she almost doesn't even know if he is experiencing waves of pleasure himself.
Her skin is slick with sweat and she feels so completely disheveled that she probably looks a stranger to him. The sex was urgent and messy and she only hopes that if there is a next time it is so much better. After a few moments of their languid breath entwining, he gives her a little bit more room to breathe, rolling onto his side and leaning back against the wall. She prepares herself for his departure, pushing herself up into a sitting position.
"Hey, where are you going?" He practically whines. She feels his arms circle around her and pull her back. It warms her more than she could have even imagined.
She wakes up to him peppering kisses on her neck just below her earlobe. It tickles and sends a shiver down her spine. She peels her eyes open and slowly turns her head to look at him. She's barely turned her head when his lips descend upon hers and he's kissing her. He is different than she had expected, the kind of man who ends up sticking around and cuddling and waking her up with kisses.
He sighs suddenly, the breath tickling her lip as he pulls away. She sees a pout settle onto his lips and it nearly breaks her heart. She lifts her heavy hand and cups his cheek. She feels his leg slide across her thighs, his boxers sliding up his leg and he feels so warm. She wonders if he even slept at all.
"I really need to go," he mutters. She smooths her hand down to the front of his shirt, fingers twisting in the material. She nods slowly; remembering that he is supposed to go back to Long Island for lunch with his parents and little brother. "Mom will be pissed if I don't make it."
"Okay," she replies, trying to conceal a yawn. He laughs gently, pressing a kiss to her jaw just below her cheek. Her eyes briefly drift closed at the feel of his lips on her skin. She feels the bed shift beneath his weight, her gaze following him as he searches for his clothing. "Are you coming back?"
"I want to," he says, tone slightly apologetic. She immediately nods in understanding. He has a big day tomorrow between the class he T.A.s and work and his own classes. She's sure though that if he's commuting then he will be exhausted. "You can come if you want."
She nearly freezes in her own skin. She's almost positive that she didn't hear him correctly. Clearly her tired brain is just playing tricks on her. She looks at him, really wanting not to say no but knowing she has to.
"I actually have to work this afternoon," she says, "But I'll leave the door unlocked for you."
"I'll come by," he replies, putting his shoes on.
He finally stands upright, quickly turning to face her. She sits up, the sheet falling down her front and exposing her to him a bit. He seems to get distracted by this for a moment, gaze lingering on the milky white skin of her shoulders. He smiles softly as he leans down, kissing her quickly before he makes a dash for the door only grabbing his coat along the way.