It's been three days since he last saw Brienne. It's been more than 70 hours since he shut himself inside her tiny bathroom like prepubescent kid with unwarranted horniness hungry to bite his ass off.
He might have laughed out his innards if not for the very real hard on he sported just from merely watching the wench eat a stew the color of bowl o' brown.
And she said it looked disgusting!
He couldn't help thinking he must be bewitched or probably just experiencing withdrawals. It's been too long since he'd last had sex. And his imagination of viable jacking off material had regrettably dwindled down to almost nothing. As a matter of fact he had stopped trying to conjure images of Cersei, realizing that only bitterness was inspired by thoughts of her.
Maybe that was it. For the past months, Brienne was the closest female thing that he had been around with and so far from Cersei's image. Maybe his poor appendage had been hurt so much that anything close to what Cersei is would be something to inspire much needed release. That could only be it.
It's not true that big boned, muscular, plain faced Brienne could have inspired such a massive hard on, a hard on that refused to be ignored until he let himself let go.
Brienne's concerned voice from the other side of the door was unwittingly used to lead him to a completion that was not satisfying but at the very least soothing. He had felt embarrassed that he couldn't meet her blue eyes when he finally deemed himself calm enough to open the door.
Brienne was sitting on her work bench when he finally emerged, distractedly sanding a foot of a bedstead. He groaned at the blasted image which startled her.
Only a hasty goodbye was said before he bolted out the door and into his car. And it had been three days ever since that most confusing moment of his life. It was more confusing than when Cersei suggested he kissed her on the mouth on their 13th nameday.
He's discomfited to see the wench again but at the same time he wanted to go back and reclaim the safe haven he had made for himself in her workspace. He blames her for ruining everything and of course none of it was his fault. It was her who ate that stew like it was some sort of a seduction act, licking and moaning. Who was she trying to seduce? It wasn't like anyone would fall for her act?
But who was he kidding? Brienne had followed him out even when he refused to look back when she called for him as he got into his car. She just looked worried and concerned with no idea to half of what he did inside her bathroom. She didn't know how he had clenched his teeth so hard his jaw hurt just to stifle the groan ripping out of his lungs. She had no idea how he stared amazed and with self-disgust at the substantial proof of his wayward lust on her shower stall. She was innocent to all of it. Damn her!
He felt thirsty for something potent. It had been more than 2 months since he last had anything alcoholic. In fact it had been as long as he had started working with Brienne. She begins working so early in the morning that he had stopped having night caps so he would wake up just as early, and to be honest he hadn't felt the need to drink when his mind was so preoccupied with sketching and designing. He laughed at the irony of it, the same reason he had stopped drinking is now the very same one pushing him back to the bottle.
He gripped the bottle by the neck and stared at it with all the frustration directed to Brienne.
He let out a frustrated groan before he released his tight hold on the bottle and closed his eyes tightly with a heavy breath.
He can't be hiding here. He just can't. And he refuses to allow Brienne into pushing him back to seclusion. He refuses to give her that much power over him. He'd go back there and act as if nothing had happened, for all he knows it was just a fluke.
He just had to remember to take his baser needs once in a while and not let his lust go without tending. Maybe he might pick up a girl once in a while. He was in no need of a relationship or any complication. Especially now that he had been mulling the idea of actually making his designs more than images on paper. He had been considering asking the wench to collaborate and help him out in bringing them to life. So no, he can't be mucking around what he have with Brienne.
Decided, he stood up and made for his jacket and his keys. He refuses to acknowledge the excitement at finally mustering nerves to see the wench again amongst many other things he refused to admit at that moment.
With a spring to his step he pulled his door open just to be surprised on who was standing behind it.
'Cersei.' Stunned would be an understatement upon looking at his twin standing resplendent in her usual poised stance.
'Jaime,' her rouged lips pulled into an alluring smile that was so familiar and yet so foreign to him. 'Brother.' She whispered breathily.
'What are you doing here?' He uttered impatiently that both surprised the two of them.
The seductive smile on her lips immediately disappeared and the familiar glowering yet still beautiful face immerged.
'Is that all what you have to say to me? We haven't seen each other in months, Jaime!' She hissed as she pushed her way in to his house ignoring the fact that he didn't invite her in. He didn't even think she wanted her there.
He closed the door begrudgingly as he followed her.
He didn't quite picture her visit to be quite like this but somehow it was all appropriate. Cersei didn't look around, no curiosity to how he live.
'You haven't contacted me in months, Jaime.' She remarked reproachingly as she sat herself on his wingchair looking much like a queen and him her subject.
'What for?' He answered testing.
'What for?' He watched her gripped the arm of the chair. 'Am I nothing to you now, Jaime?'
'You are to me what I am to you, sister. Go figure.' He said drily and realized how true his statement was.
'Don't be absurd, Jaime. You know how important you are to me.' Cersei chided.
'Well, that doesn't seem to be the case. Was I just imagining the fact that you discarded me like a used condom when you started sucking Baratheon's cock?' He grated in mocking derision. He couldn't deny the pleasure upon seeing her at least flinch at his scornful words.
'I did what I had to do.' She said defensively. 'You know it was my only choice!'
'You mean, it was the only choice you wanted to take.' He reminded himself of the choice she chose to do, she chose her ambition over him. She made it clear that what he could offer was nothing close than what Robert Baratheon could give her.
'I—I chose my dream but I didn't-,' halting for words was so unlike her it was almost disconcerting. She kept holding his gaze, unbending and unthwarted. 'I did not abandon you, Jaime. I did not.' She shook her head fervidly in denial.
'I seem to remember the events quite differently, sister.' He said unable to mask the pain of her desertion.
She got up on her feet and approached him frugally, her face melting out the remorse and replaced by tenderness he alone begets from her or so he wants to believe. She raised her hands as if calling forth for him to come closer. He felt compelled but steeled himself.
He saw her stare at him and they both waited for a few beats and it seemed he won the contest of wills when Cersei conceded and bridged the remaining space between them.
'Jaime, I've missed you.' Cersei whispered as she placed her palm on his chest. Her hands were warm and an awakening sensation crawled in his vein, feint and quickly building, roaring from the small triumph of having her come to him. And she knew it as her fingers reached up his neck, wrapping her slender arms around him. 'I missed you so much.' He didn't win as so much as she chose to forfeit.
He angled his head away as she kissed his neck right where his pulse beat erratically. He could feel her smile on his skin, she reveled in the control that she had, has, over him.
He hated it and yet still he couldn't push her away.
His hands took a life of their own when they caressed her body, felt her familiar lithe form pressed against his. He felt the stirring in his loin as she gyrated against him. She was melting against his touch as she always did whenever she let him.
He groaned when she felt Cersei's hand on his crotch making easy work of his fly. It was all so familiar that it was just easy to succumb to the lust between the two of them. Sex with Cersei had always been scaldingly scorching. He pressed himself into her touch and she expertly controlled his cock like she always did. The thought of another man's cock on her able hand was souring but not enough to wilt his lust.
'Did you miss this, Jaime?' She asked tauntingly, beguiling him to look down at her. Her eyes were so dark as she stared at him intently and he knew his as darkened eyes were mirroring the same carnal ache he sees in hers.
He grabbed her head and forcefully devoured her mouth. Cersei's moans caught in the fierce and painful kiss of untended lust taking over his body. One of her hands gripped his neck, her nails digging into his skin. And they were reduced to lust and fire and want.
In the haze of it all, just before he let the fire consume him he heard the door bell ring.
'Jaime!' His body froze. Cersei slipped her tongue in his open mouth as he recognized the familiar voice coming from the outside. 'Jaime is everything okay?' There was a loud knock on the door. It was the same concerned voice that dogged him as he fled three days ago.
Jaime wonders if he should be happy or not that the wench still doesn't know the sounds people make before, during, and after fucking.
Maybe he wants to be the person to teach her of them all.
He smiled.