Melinda had hated the whole bike ride back, and she'd reconsidered this whole relationship as they rode. What did Jim think had happened on that picnic blanket? That he'd taken advantage of her? She'd been a more than willing participant, and his actions after had colored it completely differently in her eyes.
She'd hopped off the bicycle, and her only thoughts were on getting back to the office as quickly as possible. She knew it was past two by now, but surely she could find a story to give Professor James. It would be hard, but she could make up an emergency. Maybe she'd throw Ned under the bus-that was actually a good idea. Say that her landlady's son had been injured.
She'd almost brushed the hurt from her mind and heart, but Jim was rushing after her after she tried to leave.
"Melinda," he said, catching hold of her hand. "I should have asked you what you wanted, and not just done what I wanted. I don't want you to feel bad about what happened between us."
He had to be joking, thinking his words would fix this. "You made me feel like some sort of whore," she spat. "When I thought we were sharing a moment of love, and you dirtied it."
"Melinda," he whispered, and pulled her into his arms. "Let me make it up to you."
She didn't want him to touch her. He'd made her feel dirty, and she couldn't stand for that. She pulled, hard, and he immediately let her go, raising his hands in the air. His eyes were pleading, and his lips spoke words that were the last things she'd expected to come from his mouth.
"Let me make love to you," he finished.
Her heart seemed to stop. Professor James vanished from her mind, and she stared at the man in front of her.
"I am so sorry," he repeated.
She tapped her foot on the ground, folding her arms. "How do you plan on making it up to me?" She asked, wondering at her audacity. What was she wanting him to do? Describe his future actions? Her breath caught, and she knew that yes, she did want him to speak what he'd do.
He stared at her, at a loss for words. Was this moment awkward? Oh god, she shouldn't have said that.
"I'm going to kiss you again," he started, voice low, hands moving to fold his arms. He looked nervous, but she could see him gaining confidence.
"I'm going to take you back to my room," he said. "Mrs. Davis went to visit her sick sister."
That part was less seductive, but very useful information.
"And I'm going to make you feel like you've never felt before," he said, stepping closer, his hands gently settling on her arms, rubbing up and down. She felt her entire body ignite at his touch, as much as she didn't want it to.
She moved one foot closer to him, meeting his gaze. "Kiss me," she said.
He did, and her mouth instinctively curved to his, having learned earlier at the picnic just how to get the best angle. His mouth was so warm, and his lips nibbled at hers. His arms curled around her, and his hands came to cup at her derriere, and she gasped, loud and shocked.
He pulled back, apologetic, but she raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to stop.
"You're going to be the death of me," he said, and cupped harder. She moved closer to him, and his hands slid up to her waist, lifting her up, til her legs wrapped around his waist. "I've dreamed of these moments," he murmured, his lips touching her neck. "My god, Melinda. I've dreamed of this."
He took the back roads to Mrs. Davis' house, feeling like he had that night he'd taken her back home. Their time together was forbidden, illicit, some would say the actions they planned were wicked.
He didn't care. The woman seated behind him kept him going hard, his legs pumping double time. He was going to make these moments count. They'd gotten cut short ten years ago, and he planned to make up for every moment of lost time.
He didn't see anyone he knew, and he felt safe smuggling Melinda into his house, closing the door behind them with a bang. His hands landed on her face, cupping the beautiful features and staring into her eyes. "Melinda," he whispered. "Are you sure?"
"I've been sure for about ten years," she replied, her hands on his shoulders. "But are you?"
He replied by again lifting her, and her gorgeous legs once again wrapped around his waist. He groaned aloud, giving in to every wanton feeling.
He carried her to his room, his lips pressed to hers, slowly lowering her to the floor once he got there. She leaned against his wall, gasping, and stared up at him.
He suddenly felt too big, and she too small. His hand came to cup her face, and he felt overwhelmed. His other hand came to cup one breast, one part of her that wasn't small, and he moaned, his fingers moving to her buttons and starting to undo the top button.
She was just standing there, staring at him, something like awe in her eyes. He didn't break eye contact as he unbuttoned her dress down to the waist, slowly moving to push the dress down over her shoulders. She was bare to the waist but for her brassiere, and he could barely breathe.
He was thinking about ten years ago, and how different those moments had been...yet how the same. He leaned to kiss her, hungrily tasting her lips, his hand tipping her head farther up.
His other hand moved to cup her ass, again feeling the swell there.
He lifted her up, and lay her on the bed, slowly beginning to unbutton his own shirt. This part was different. Last time had been all circled around her, and he was a little apprehensive about making it about himself, but he'd wanted this moment back for so long.
It was still unbelievable that she was here. So unbelievable.
"Jim," she said, sitting up, kissing him, and then taking over undoing the buttons on his shirt. "I want to give you the gift you gave me last time."
"Melinda," he began, but she silenced him when her hand touched his belt. She was fumbling at it, undoing it with able hands, and he closed his eyes, unable to bear these sensations. "Melinda, I want you," he began again, but she shushed him, her mouth making a soothing noise that made his brain shortcircuit.
Her hands had landed on his erection, and he really didn't know how to process this. "Melinda, please," he gasped, as she palmed him through his trousers, and then he gently pushed her back onto the bed, his hands coming to unfasten her brassiere and lay bare her breasts to him.
And there they were, just as beautiful as they'd been ten years ago. "These are still perfect," he almost growled, his eyes coming to meet hers for just a second. "Don't ever doubt that."
She just smiled, watching as his hands came to touch them, cup them, play with them. "I liked what you did last time," she admitted, and his head lowered to take one nipple into his mouth.
Her hands played with his hair, sometimes pulling quite hard when he hit a sensitive spot. He liked this. He could stay forever like this, his face buried in her breasts, with the sound of her gasps in his ears, and her hands desperately clinging onto his shoulders.
She wanted it to feel as it had ten years ago, she wanted it to feel like her dreams. And it did, but it didn't.
She knew, so keenly, that she wasn't a teenager anymore. She was a grown woman, and she felt like a grown woman, making her own decisions. She'd chosen this. She hadn't let a moment sweep her away.
She'd wanted it.
She felt her heartrate increasing though, and not just from pleasure. She was thinking back to these kind of moments with Kevin, she was thinking to one late night in the library with Rick which hadn't gone far, but had gone too far for her comfort.
And she tried to remind herself of how different this moment was. Jim's head came up, and he was looking at her, staring at her, really, his eyes almost shining.
And this was the difference, she reminded herself. The difference was that he loved her. And though he hadn't said the words, she knew he did. She knew that this couldn't be happening ten years later if both of them hadn't remembered every instant in that room, hadn't cherished it.
She wanted to feel him inside her. She wanted to feel the difference. She wanted to heal every hurt she'd once felt, and she was moving, placing his hands so that he pulled her dress off the rest of the way. He was stepping out of his trousers, and she saw what she hadn't seen ten years ago.
He was bigger than Kevin had been, and she wondered if that meant he'd hurt more. Yet her body also seemed to be pleased by this, and she could feel her excitement increasing.
She slid out of her undergarments, and then she was lying there nude in front of him. And this moment, this exact moment, had never happened in her dreams. They were always too rushed and full of passion.
This was a different kind of feeling. They were staring at each other, taking each other in. They were getting to know each other again, in ways they'd never known each other.
She felt so vulnerable, so open, yet so safe. In some ways, it didn't make sense. Yet it made perfect sense. They had a bond, forged from steel, and it hadn't gone away this past decade.
"I want you," he whispered, his hand coming to pick up one foot, pressing a kiss to it, his fingers sliding up her leg, up to her thighs. She tensed, but she remembered how it had felt last time.
She wondered what would have happened if she'd waited a day before leaving, if she had waited to see if Jim came back, all those years ago. She wondered if they'd be married with children, and she wished she'd gone to find him. She wished Kevin hadn't been an obstacle.
She wished they'd met in a different way.
But she wouldn't change any part of their love story. Not knowing that this was where they would be, with his fingers deep inside her, making her feel as she had then. She came, in a sweaty mess, her world shattering, and then he was kissing her lips.
"Are you ready for me?" He whispered, and she wondered at his words, before realizing his meaning.
"I am," she said, shifting her hips. She'd never tried with Kevin; those experiences had been too jarring, too confusing. She hadn't known how to give more pleasure, and she hadn't wanted to.
And Jim had just been the bartender. They'd been in totally different worlds, and here they were now. He was poised at her entrance, staring into her eyes. Their lives could have been so different.
She arched her hips upward, meeting him halfway, and he eased into her. He went slowly, but surely, and she gasped.
It was definitely an odd feeling, but better than when Kevin had been inside her. There wasn't pain, exactly, but it was tight.
He was fully sheathed, and she gasped at the feeling. He was big. But he was moving inside her, up and down. She felt her body tense, and she could feel how much wetter she became when he moved inside her as her body made her more ready.
And she loved this feeling, suddenly. He was kissing her, clinging to her, going up and down, and then he was shattering, and she could feel his climax pulse into her.
He sagged over her, breathing hard, moving to kiss her shoulders. "I love you," he said, eyes shining.
"I love you more," she whispered, and he moved to her side, gathering her into his arms.
Professor James, and the fact that she was now over two hours late getting back from lunch, couldn't be further from her mind. She didn't care.
She was with Jim, and that was all that mattered...for now.
A/N: I have 30 chapters planned total, so we are now in the home stretch. ~Meowser