Okay, so it's been ages, I know. I got distracted writing two other fics (Just the Way I Want You, and the Christmas Advent Calendar), but hopefully this next chapter won't disappoint.
NSFW
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Bailando, by Enrique Iglesias
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Callie
It has been a long day.
A really long day. A long, exhausting day filled with complicated surgeries and incompetent interns and all I've wanted to do for hours is step through the door to our home and change into pajamas and snuggle up on the couch with Arizona. I've finally made it, and although I'd been looking forward to just ordering some pizza for tonight, the minute I step inside the front hall a vaguely spicy smell reaches my nose and my stomach is immediately rumbling.
Slipping off my jacket and shoes by the front door, I head towards the kitchen as my nostrils are flooded with even more of the exotic, delicious scent, the soft sounds of movement toward the back of the house bringing a small smile to my face. I love coming home to Arizona again. I'd gotten used to coming home to a cold, dark house - just me and Sofia taking up the space - but now it seems so much more alive again, so much lighter, happier...more full. It still amazes me sometimes how seamlessly we eased back into our domestic life together, the arguments we fought for the last year no longer tainting the air in our home.
Arizona doesn't seem to have heard me come in, because there's no break in the sound of pans rattling over the loud sizzle of something hot on the stove. As I approach the entrance to the kitchen, the sounds of cooking are suddenly mingled with soft music playing from the corner, and I can hear the blonde singing along under her breath, her body fluidly moving as she crosses from the island to the stove. She insisted for the longest time that she couldn't dance after the plane crash - that she'd never move the way she used to - but watching her now, that couldn't be further from the truth. She looks incredible.
I just stand in the doorway for a minute, leaning against the frame as I watch her. She moves around the kitchen gracefully, lightly, so completely different than the hardcore surgeon she is in the OR. The lyrics to the song evade her and she hums along instead, but the tune is more than familiar to me and I just smile, following the curves of her body as I listen along.
"Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to come in and say hi?"
She doesn't look up from where she's stirring something on the stove, but her voice has a playful tone to it as she calls out to me - catching me in the act. I take a few short steps to close the space between us and wrap my arms around her waist from behind, leaning my chin on her shoulder as she lets out a content hum.
"I don't know what you're cooking, but it smells delicious."
Dropping a kiss onto the exposed skin of her shoulder, I trail my way up her neck, my lips just lightly skirting along her skin, and I let my tongue flutter into the soft hollow behind her ear before pressing a kiss there as well - the taste of her far more addictive than anything she could prepare in this kitchen. I let my tongue flicker out to trace along the shell of her ear as she adds another pinch of spice to the pan, and I can't help the words that fall from my lips.
"You are sexy as hell right now, Arizona Robbins."
She shivers slightly and I nip her earlobe, scraping my teeth lightly over delicate, soft skin.
God, I missed this. I will never get over this - over the fact that we're getting a second chance. A chance to enjoy this again, to be us again.
"Mm," she murmurs, "if you want to eat this delicious food I'm making, you better behave yourself, Dr. Torres."
I rest my chin on her shoulder again, my arms still wrapped snugly around her midsection, and I just chuckle softly at her chastising tone.
"That's no fun, though."
Arizona reaches to lower the dial on the burner and turns in my arms to face me, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"How about I give you a cooking lesson instead then?"
"I taught you how to cook, I think you're forgetting."
"But," she leans in close, her hands sliding up to rest on my shoulders, her mouth close enough that I can feel her warm breath against my lips, "can you cook pollo con quimbobó y plátanos?"
Her voice is low and husky, and the way the foreign words roll off her tongue makes the room suddenly seem just a little bit warmer. I forget, sometimes, that Arizona learned how to speak Spanish - and that she learned it well. She was a natural at the language, even though we've never spoken it with Sofia as much as we probably should.
"Uh..." I swallow and clear my throat, blinking slightly as her eyes meet mine, "no...no I don't think I know that one."
She watches me a moment longer, her face still inches from mine, blue eyes roaming my face as a slight smirk twitches at the corner of her mouth. I thought I was the one playing here, but now it's becoming very clear...I'm the one being played. And I have absolutely no complaints about it at all.
"Didn't think so."
Her smaller body slips behind me, her movements smooth and graceful, and one strong, pale arm snakes around my waist as she presses her body up against mine, her warmth burning through the fabric that separates us, enveloping me immediately in a haze of desire. The other comes to rest over my own arm, picking up the wooden spoon from the counter and placing it delicately in my hand, her fingers curling around mine for a moment, her thumb lightly circling over my wrist.
"We need to fry the plátanos."
Her voice drops to the same low, husky pitch again as the Spanish word falls from her mouth, and it's all I can do keep my composure, to let her do whatever she's about to do to me. I let out a shaky breath when a silky curl of her hair brushes against my shoulder, and she laughs softly, pressing a warm kiss to my neck.
"The key to cooking is being relaxed, isn't that what you taught me once?"
She reaches for a bowl just next to the stove and drops the sliced plantains into the hot frying pan, the movement pressing her chest against my back, her soft, feminine curves delicious in all the right ways. The plantains sizzle loudly as they hit the heat, and she grabs my hand again, guiding the spoon into the pan to stir them around.
"Now stir them, Calliope. We don't want anything to get..." she leans closer, her body pressing fully against mine, her lips hovering over my ear, "scorched."
Whatever I thought I was coming home to tonight, this was certainly not it.
This was a side of the blonde woman that I hadn't seen in a very, very long time - a side of her that was her best kept dirty secret. It was a side of her that excited me in more ways than I could even describe, and the involuntary shiver that ran down my spine was only the beginning of what I knew would be to come.
I let my hand move under hers, stirring the plantains in the pan as they sizzle and cook in front of us, the heat rising steadily. The song on the stereo is on repeat - it's one of her favourites - and as the beats pick up again her soft curves are pressed fully into my back, her hips locking perfectly with mine as she moves them with the music, the movement subtle and teasing and almost obscene in a way. She leans her head against mine, cheek to cheek, and silky waves of blonde fall against the bare skin of my neck, the ticklish feeling making me shiver again in her embrace.
"You okay?"
"Mmhm."
I can only murmur in response as her hand keeps moving mine, stirring the vegetables in the pan slowly, her every movement precise and deliberate. With every stir, her hips grind against me just a little more, her body presses against mine just a little harder, and the heat that pooled between my thighs a long time ago jolts through my body with every move she makes.
Suddenly, Arizona lets go of my hand and smoothes her palm over my throat, sliding down the exposed skin of my chest achingly slowly, her fingers dipping into my cleavage below the neckline of my top.
"You look a little hot, Calliope," she whispers, her mouth hovering over my ear, "are you sure you're alright?"
The blonde's body arches against mine, pinning me firmly against the counter as her soft lips finally come into contact with my skin. She blazes a trail of hot, wet kisses down the side of my neck and a low groan escapes my throat as she latches on to it, her tongue fluttering over my pulse point before she bites none-too-gently at the tender skin.
The spoon clatters into the pan at the sensation and I feel Arizona laugh softly, her breath skirting across my aroused skin, lighting it even more on fire with every passing second. Blonde hair is falling against me again, teasing the bare skin above my shirt, and I see her arm move out of the corner of my eye as she reaches out to turn the burner off in a swift motion.
She pulls me around to face her and backs me up against the opposite counter, strong arms on either side to pin me there, hips pressed into mine with what can only be described as a possessive claim to my body. My breathing is loud enough to resonate throughout the kitchen, the only other sound the music playing behind us, and I lick my lips slowly, just watching her as she contemplates her next move. Her eyes have darkened to a deep, ocean blue as they roam over my face and down my chest, brazenly appraising, and I can't help but think they are simply stunning in the dim light of the room.
She's stunning. She is beautiful. She is, without a doubt, the sexiest woman I have ever seen in my life, and when she looks at me like that - when she looks at me like I'm the only thing she wants in the world, like she wants to devour me - I am helpless and defenseless in her hands. And when her pelvis suddenly arches up against my own again, grinding slightly at the contact, I gasp at the feeling that rages through my body like a wildfire.
She slides her upper body against mine smoothly – always graceful, always calculated – until her mouth is mere millimeters from my own, her eyes gazing into mine as her tongue peeks out to dampen soft, warm lips.
"Cooking lesson over. I'm ravenous."
All at once her lips are against mine and her hands are no longer pinning me to the counter – they're in my hair, on my neck, sliding down my chest and grasping wherever they can to keep me close. She kisses me hungrily, her tongue flickering over my lips seeking entrance, and I grant it with a whimper, desperately needing to feel her with every fiber of my being.
The smaller woman's hands have found their way under my shirt before I even realize, and she slides it up, pulling it over my head and off my arms and tossing it to a corner of the kitchen behind us. I lean my arms back on the counter top as her deft fingers slide around me and unclasp my bra, and she pulls it away in a quick motion as well, her palms smoothing over every inch of my exposed skin.
Soft hands slide down my bare stomach, fingers edging under my jeans and teasing inches away from where I'm desperate to feel her. I feel her fingers fumble with the button and slide the zipper down, and she tugs the offending garment open as her lips crash against mine again, hot and possessive and in complete and utter control. She pulls back and I can only whimper at the sudden loss of contact, sliding a hand into her hair to try and pull her closer. But her strong fingers pry my hand away and she bites it gently, a low, unconscious growl leaving her throat.
"No. Be good."
Her voice is low and throaty and unbelievably sexy. This Arizona is definitely one of my favourites - and my hand immediately drops back to the counter, unable to disobey her. I feel her hot, wet mouth trailing open kisses down my stomach as she slides down to her knees in front of me, and strong hands come to grip the backs of my thighs. She swirls her tongue in my belly button for the briefest of moments, almost playfully, and the groan that escapes my throat reverberates through the kitchen, my whole body shivering as I let my head fall back.
Her teeth are next and they bite at the edge of my underwear, her tongue slipping under the silky fabric and trailing over my burning skin, and she teases me in a way that she knows drives me absolutely insane. We'd been together for so long before, explored every inch of each others' bodies over and over, learned every reaction and sensitive spot - and clearly Arizona hasn't forgotten a single one of them. She hooks her fingers under the black material and pulls it down over my thighs, taking my jeans with her, and she simply lets them fall down my legs, tugging them off as I move my feet to help, her hands resuming their grip on my thighs as she glances up over me.
At the sudden stillness of her movements, I whine slightly and lift my head to look down at her. She stares at me, her gaze deepening as she meets my eyes, and she licks her lips slowly and purposefully - taunting me - her voice nothing but a soft, husky murmur.
"Calliope..."
Her tongue darts out and flickers over me, the movement drawn out, teasing, as my fingers find purchase in her hair and grip it tightly.
"I like to savour what I cook up in the kitchen."
It feels like hours later when her name tumbles from my lips in a cry of ecstasy, her mouth pressed against me, her lips and her tongue and her breath hot against me as a flood of sensations courses through my body. My breathing is ragged, my hands tugging at blonde hair, but she is relentless - insatiable - the arousal in her eyes as she looks up at me one of the most breathtaking things I have ever seen. She holds a power over me that no one else ever has before, and that no one else ever could - tonight, every night, she knows that whenever she wants me...I am hers. I'll always be hers.
She finally relents and pulls away, leaning up to press a soft kiss below my belly button, and my elbows lean back on the counter just to keep myself upright, just to keep myself in the present, my mind filled with nothing but the utmost, mind-blowing pleasure. I feel her strong, capable hands slide up my body and her hair brush against my breasts as she stands slowly and wraps her arms around me, and I collapse into her as she kisses my temple, her hand curling around the back of my neck in a protective, calming embrace. I feel her lips and her warm breath against my ear a moment later, and as she touches them lightly to my skin, I hear her whisper words that make my heart race in my chest, anticipation and promise taking over any other thoughts I may have - turning every thought, yet again, to her.
"Tomorrow, mi amor, lesson number two."
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