Had a wonderful time writing this chapter. The next one will be action packed, so buckle up. Please enjoy as always, and please review :)
Chapter 11:
"Saaaaan, I'm booooorreeed." Brittany moaned, spinning idly in the flimsy desk chair of their hotel room. Santana looked up from sharpening her knives, peering up from under the thin black frames of her glasses and she couldn't help but giggle at the moping blonde.
"I know you are B, but it's a waiting game until Rachel is done with her 'role of a lifetime' as Frenchy's secretary. We can't just go busting in there until we know that place inside and out. And, as much as I hate her, I have to admit that dwarf has got some serious balls snooping around that place. If she gets caught...let's just say I don't wanna be the one to do clean up for that."
"I know, I know," Brittany sighed, stretching her legs out to stop the chair. "I just hate this waiting around. All I do is dwell on what we have to do, what could go wrong." Santana heard her voice falter over the word "wrong" and she looked up to see Brittany's eyes trained on the floor, the sky blue orbs glazed with worry. Frowning, Santana removed her glasses and placed them on her desk, wiping the knife polish from her hands with a rag as she stood up. She squatted down in front of the blonde and cupped her chin in her hand, pulling it up so she could look straight into her eyes.
"Hey, look at me," she smiled confidently, "nothing is going to go wrong. I promise. I mean that's why we are waiting so long, to make sure that nothing goes wrong. Trust me, ok?" Brittany smiled and nodded and Santana leaned in and pressed her lips lightly to the blonde's. Santana felt the frost of fear on Brittany's skin immediately begin to thaw at the warm touch of her lips. Santana yelped in surprise when Brittany threw herself from the chair, full force, toppling the crouching brunette and sending their bodies sprawling to the carpet in a tangle of limbs. Brittany burst into a fit of raucous laughter at the wide-eyed Santana tousled beneath her.
"What was that for?" Santana yelped. Brittany only giggled and bent her head, beginning to press deep, hot kisses to the length of Santana's neck.
"Oh," Brittany could hear the grin in Santana's voice. "Well, you could have just asked nicely though," she feigned scolding.
"Well, I'm very sorry," Brittany cooed against Santana's caramel skin. "I suppose I'll just have to find some way to make it up to you." With this, Brittany reached a hand back and slid her palm from the top of Santana's bent knee, teasingly slowly down her thigh, until she gently cupped the Latina through her tight, black, knit pants. "Would here be a good place to start?" Brittany questioned with a smirk.
"You're too much, you know that?" Santana said, but Brittany could hear the husky arousal in her voice. She smiled, pleased with her ability to send Santana from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds, and applied light pressure with her hand, eliciting a grateful moan from the woman unsuccessfully attempting composure beneath her.
Santana could retain her poise no longer when Brittany removed her hand briefly, but only to slide it inside Santana's pants. Santana groaned loudly and flipped them with one fluid movement, topping the blonde eagerly.
"No panties, Lopez?" Brittany quirked an eyebrow and her mouth wriggled furiously as she tried frantically to keep her arrogant smirk from escaping into a full-blown grin.
"I'm in Paris." Was the brunette's immediate response, and all of Brittany's efforts to keep a straight face were sent tumbling into oblivion and she erupted into a fit of laughter.
"I'm hilarious, I know." Santana smiled. "However, I'll do stand-up for you later. Right now, though, would you mind getting back to business?" She bucked her hips forward and the fingers that had been resting lazily within her pants were coated in sticky warmth as they brushed against her center. Brittany's blue eyes were immediately flared black as her pupils exploded with arousal. She sat upright, so Santana was straddling her lap, and used her free hand to roughly grab the back of her lovers neck and crash their lips together in a searing, biting kiss.
"Mmm, Britt" Santana moaned into her mouth, and Brittany used the opening to rush her tongue against the Latina's. Santana responded immediately, sucking ravenously on Brittany's tongue and knotting her fingers in silky blonde locks. Their mouths battled against each other for several minutes until they broke apart, chests heaving, gasping for air.
"Off. Now." Santana tugged aggressively at the bottom of Brittany's green t-shirt.
"Help me out." Brittany ordered. "I've only got one hand, remember?" and as a teasing reminder she gave a firm flick of Santana's clit. Santana's hips lurched forward and she nodded rapidly, immediately pulling the shirt up over Brittany's head and off her free arm, then carefully slid it down the arm that was still nestled inside the brunette's pants, stopping when she reached Brittany's wrist.
"I've got to take my hand out to get it off," Brittany said, beginning to withdraw her hand. Like lightning, Santana's hand was clasped around Brittany's wrist, halting her retreat.
"Not worth it. It'll fall off later." With that, she launched herself at the blonde and began placing hard, nipping kisses along her exposed neck and shoulders, deftly reaching up and undoing the clasp of, what was thankfully, a strapless white bra. She gratefully took Brittany's breasts in her hands, gently fondling the milky flesh and flicking her thumbs over the already alert, pink nipples. Brittany growled with pleasure, and used her free hand to tug annoyedly at Santana's own blue Henley.
"Off, off, off, off," she whined, unable to successfully remove the garment with her current handicap. Santana giggled but, retracted her hands and removed her shirt hurriedly, then replaced them to Brittany's breasts with lightning speed.
"Thank you very much," Brittany chirped. "This," she smiled, finding the clasp of Santana's red bra, "I can handle though," and she snapped it open with a precise movement of her thumb and two forefingers and tugged it upwards, Santana once again reluctantly relinquishing her hold on Brittany to raise her arms and allow the piece of clothing to be removed.
"Much better," Brittany grinned, and surged forward, taking a dusky nipple in her mouth.
"Oh god," Santana moaned, arching her back, pressing herself against Brittany. The blonde sucked gingerly and swirled her tongue around the excited nub, relishing in the softness of Santana's skin and the deep, lush scent of her perfume. Brittany regrettably loosed the nipple and kissed toward the other one to pay it its due.
"Mmm, that feels so good baby," Santana sighed, her hands now in the blonde's hair, clutching her too her. Brittany hummed against Santana and gave a firm sweep of the fingers still buried inside the black fabric, and Santana yelped in pleasure.
"Ok, I'm sorry, the clothes have got to go," Santana practically yelled in her aroused frenzy. Brittany pulled her mouth from the Latina's chest giggling.
"I couldn't agree more." Painfully, she removed her hand from Santana's pants and they both frowned like disappointed children, but immediately began to shed themselves of their remaining clothing. Within instants, Brittany's grey sweatpants and her underwear, along with the t-shirt still dangling on her wrist, were strewn across the floor and Santana's black pants flew to join them.
Both bare bodied and practically quivering with arousal, the two women lingered on the floor for a moment, their eyes drinking in the stark naked glory of one another. Then, in a knot of limbs, and hair, and lips, they were upon one another. Once again, Santana straddled Brittany's waist and the blonde could feel the tacky heat of her arousal pressed against the flesh of her lower belly. As their lips met in a slow, passionate kiss, Brittany slid one hand up Santana's thigh, letting it come to a stop with a firm squeeze of Santana's ass. The other hand, that had been resting on the brunette's neck, skated down over her chest, the brush of her fingertips against a pert nipple sending a shiver through Santana's figure, and down the quivering, tanned, muscles of her belly until it came in contact with a small patch of tight, raven curls. Santana broke their kiss, her hands cupping Brittany's face gently but firmly, and she stared into waiting blue eyes. She drank in the crisp, powerful sapphire that Brittany's irises took on when they made love. The way her eyes searched Santana's face, as if she were taking mental pictures, cataloging the ridge of her cheekbones, the plush pillow of her lips, the russet fire of her eyes. When Santana thought that the love flaming up between them might burn down the hotel were it let to roam any longer, she nodded, and it was all the confirmation Brittany needed. Leaning forward, the blonde slid her fingers gently inside the brunette in time with her thin lips capturing Santana's full bottom one. Santana released a shaking breath as Brittany filled her and began to thrust gently. Santana looped her arms around Brittany's shoulders, crushing their lips and bodies together, and she began to rock her hips into the blonde's hand. The heat between them, their muscles wound so tight in precise, powerful thrusts, began to form a sheen of sweat over their skin, glittering like dew over sand and snow.
Soon, Santana could feel the jittering, urgent heat coiling low in her belly.
"B," she moaned, her lips trembling against the soft, heated skin of Brittany's throat. Brittany knew that desperateness, that almost fearful exposition in Santana's voice, and she clutched tightly against Santana's lower back, pressing her firmly against her, and gave a deep, final thrust. Santana's breath hitched in her throat and her head fell backwards as her body shuddered, crashed into waves. Brittany held her tight, and let Santana collapse, entirely unwound into her arms.
"I love you," Santana's voice was thin and tired, but words had never been so strong. Brittany kissed Santana's cheek, as the brunette's head rested against her shoulder and she gently stroked the wavy raven locks that hung down her back.
"I love you more," and she could feel Santana's smile against her neck, mimicking her own. They sat their like that, holding each other, in no hurry to separate or to break the illusion that it was just them, alone together, no world outside that called for anything besides flesh and love.
But the bubble burst with three sharp wraps on the door.
"Santana, Brittany. Rachel just got here. Meet in my room in ten minutes for debriefing. It's time to move." Puck's voice was urgent and irrefutable. Santana sighed, and kissed Brittany's neck, slow and firm, because they both knew what the break meant. As they pulled apart, their eyes locked.
"You ready?" Brittany asked, her mouth a hard line. She watched Santana's eyes take on a hardness like jet black marble, but her mouth worked into a jubilant grin. The contrast was what always frightened Brittany, broke her heart every time.
"Always," Santana said, pushing herself up and walking to their suitcase to pull out clothes. Brittany considered taking a quick shower, but she thought better of it. What better reminder was there to stay alert and stay alive walking into this mission than the smell of Santana still on her skin?