Series:Moonlight and Serenades Part IV
Sequel to: Tea & a Tango for Two
Firefly fanfic by Brandywine00
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own nor make any cashy money from these wonderful folks. Joss is Boss.
Author's note: This started out as a one-shot, but has decided itself to be a sequel to Tea & a Tango for Two. Some spoilers to the show and BDM. Also, moonbows are a real occurrence here on Earth-that-Is, such as at Cumberland Falls, KY. Rushed delivery without beta, so please let me know if I made boo-boos…thanks! Reviews are oh-so shiny! :-)
By special request, for BigBadJayne… thanks for the wonderful comments! ;-)
***
~Eire moon, on the Rim~
Inara spotted him among the trees, tall and straight as the white-barked birch he leaned against. Her own personal guardian angel with slightly singed wings, keeping vigil while she indulged in this hidden heaven. She wasn't sure how long he'd been standing guard, but the thought that he watched sent a bolt of electricity through her.
Emboldened by the knowledge of his eyes on her, she drizzled the warm lake water across her breasts, arching her back to display herself more clearly to him. A sweet ache formed in her core as the stream hit her aroused nipples, trailed down the swell of her firm breasts to the smooth skin of her belly. Answering the ache, she slid a hand to the heat between her thighs, gliding elegant fingers up and down the slickness of her flesh with an agonizingly slow rhythm.
A moan rose from her throat, bringing a flood of images. Jayne's gentle, callused hands bringing her to peak time and again. His devilish mouth wringing every ounce of pleasure from her core. His strong, powerful body gliding over her, as she gave herself to him without compromise. They'd had only the one night together, months ago, but the memories refused to lose clarity.
For that one night, she had been free in every sense of the word. For the first time, she'd not had to control the rhythm, or focus solely on her partner getting his money's worth, or try to live up to the Guild's demanding standards. It had been the most liberating union of her life.
His eagle-sharp eyes must have caught that she was returning his hot gaze. Relaxing into the sturdy tree, his long-fingered hand mirrored her self-pleasuring touches, deliberately, erotically stroking himself in perfect time with hers.
Suddenly discontent with only shared voyeurism, Inara dove below the surface, and waited for the hunter to give chase and join her, unfettered and wanton under the moonbow and mist.
Barely hearing him calling for her under the lake, she glided beneath the surface toward his legs. Impetuous man! So hot with desire, he'd plunged into the water fully dressed. His boots would be waterlogged for weeks, but she'd make sure he wouldn't be sorry. As she closed in on him, he bolted for the shore. Spurred toward him by his playful game of hard-to-get, she gave chase.
An unfamiliar, arousing aggression surging through her limbs. Such a heady rush, to be the hunter, no longer the prey. She lunged after him as he nearly cleared the water, grabbing his waistband and using the rising rock face to kick backward, pulling him down to her. Years of practice in the art of undressing men lent speed to her fingers, and she had his belt undone, his pants hauled down, within mere moments.
Near frenzy with need, she clutched his muscular thighs, sleek and tight against her arms, and claimed her quarry in her hungry mouth. His instant response no longer surprised her, not after that long, fulfilling night he'd given her months ago. She knew she had him when his powerful hand gripped her hair, his staff growing firm and hot and close to full attention in her mouth. Loosening her oral grip to surface for air, she lightly raking her teeth along the sensitive skin of his diao as he hauled her up to him out of the water.
Her laughter died on her lips. The scowl he wore bespoke nothing of the pleasure she thought he was surely sharing.
"Inara," he growled, with something besides desire in his rumbling tone. His scowl jarred the remnants of her passion from her, leaving her vulnerable to the cooling night wind on her damp skin.
In an instant, his thick arm circled her like a vise, the deep blue of his irises glistening with dark emotion, though she dared not guess which one. Crushing her to his wide chest, he pressed a firm kiss against her temple, before pulling her back to fix a furious glare at her.
"Jayne, I only meant to…" she tried to explain, confused at his anger and the other, unnamed emotions entangled with it. "I was only playing, wanted to-"
"Told ya once, woman, I ain't a man to be played with. Why'd ya wanna do me like that? Didja get yer jollies, me runnin' around, hollerin' like a gorram fool over ya?"
He stood as rigid and immovable as the white stones around them, the pale light glinting off rivulets of water falling from his hair and face… welling in his stormy eyes. Confused, Inara felt hot tears spill down her cheeks.
"Know ya ain't never gonna be head over heels a-lovin' me, but… hell, I thought that night meant a little somethin' to ya. Thought ya could see it was more'n just a roll 'tween the sheets for me."
His deep voice broke with raw emotion, the pain it carried hit like a fist to her middle.
"Damn, Inara… I never dreamed ya'd wanna hurt me like that a-purpose."
"Jayne, I didn't mean-" she sputtered, remorse filling her. The impromptu game of hide-and-seek, a delightful idea to entice him from the shadows to join her, seemed a horrid joke to him, she realized.
"Didn't mean, what, Inara?" he hissed through gritted teeth, giving her hair a sharp tug. "Didn't mean to scare the go se out of me, wondering what god-awful thing had happened to ya?" Another hard tug, his arms flexing around her. "Didn't mean for me to worry myself sick that somebody or some thing had hauled ya off to hurt ya?"
"I-I only wanted-"
"Wanted to what, Inara?!" he barked. "To see the endin' of me? Ya got no ruttin' idea what'd happen to me if ya ever got hurt, if – something bad - whilst I was watchin' over ya! No gorram idea!"
She shook her head as far as his grip would allow. "Jayne - no one would blame- Mal wouldn't do anyth-"
"Mal wouldn't gorram have to!" he shouted inches from her face, his fury giving way to shades of grief. Yanking her into his tight embrace, he whispered hoarsely against her ear. "Nobody'd have to, woman. I'd end myself, I let ya down like that."
"Jayne… bao bei… I'm so s-sorry," she sobbed against his neck. "I didn't mean… to frighten… make y-you think… I th-thought you saw me… saw m-me dive. I just w-wanted… you to… come down… t-to… wanted y-you to b-be with me…"
The entirety of everything gone wrong crashed down on her. Her ill-fated attempt to draw him to her. The long weeks and months aboard Serenity without a sign he wanted anything more than their one night's joining. Her failure to coax openness or emotion from Mal, their failed non-relationship. The looming review and current suspension from the Guild she had trained to serve all her adult life. Desiccated bodies laying where they fell on the abandoned social experiment called Miranda. Beasts that were once men, gone mad beyond reason for blood and flesh and pain. The betrayal by the Alliance she'd supported, knowing she and billions others had been – were still being – lied to. Used. Like a whore, her mind numbly quipped.
Everything she'd ever known or wanted or trusted had turned to vapor. Shifted like quicksand beneath her feet, nothing was solid.
Except this man, pressing her into him, muscles still twitching from exertion and fear and anger. Yet despite his furor, however undeserved, his embrace was firm, not punishing. Solid. He wrapped her up so tightly she could never fall away, and allowed her to spend her anguish on his broad shoulder.
When her sobs faded to small gasps, his embrace loosened just a bit, arms still trembling as they held her against him. Releasing her hair, he slid his palm to her jaw, tilting it up to search her face.
"Jayne, truly, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I only wanted you to come to me. I wanted you…"
The desperation and fury drained from his eyes, leaving only traces of worry and disgruntlement, and a hint of embarrassment.
He shook his head, a pained smile playing on the edge of his mouth. "Gorramit, woman," he choked out.
"Ya coulda just whistled."
***