If I look at you for one more second, I'm going to have to kiss you.
Elizabeth felt like Alice stepping through the looking glass. Everything seemed brighter, more delicate, and so easily breakable. The moonlight was so bright that she had to squint her eyes against it.
During their walk back to the bike, she felt jerky and disjointed; she could feel her limbs moving, but not as fluidly as normal. They didn't utter a word as Jason climbed on the bike, watching her mess with the helmet until she, too, climbed on, her hands fastening to his hips.
The ride back to the Towers was silent, yet deafening. There were no whoops of joy, no cries of freedom. Elizabeth didn't even notice the scenery, or at the very least, the blur of the scenery. Her eyes remained completely focused on the bare skin just above Jason's shirt collar, her mind telling her that what he said was a fluke, that she'd misheard him.
It wasn't until they'd pulled into the parking garage that she finally admitted to herself what he'd actually said.
If I look at you for one more second, I'm going to have to kiss you.
She felt completely aware of everything around her; the thumps of their boots hitting the concrete, a car door being closed further down the parking lane, even the quiet creaks of his leather jacket. Her nose worked over time as well; the bittersweet smell of gasoline and oil, burning rubber, and him; his scent so thick it nearly gagged her.
The soft ping of the elevator signaled just before the doors slipped open, and Jason allowed her to exit first. A flock of butterflies lifted off in her stomach and seemingly up her throat. She could actually hear her blood coursing through her veins with each step closer they got to her door. Even through his thick leather jacket, she could feel his heat, his masculinity seeping into her pores to the very marrow of her bones.
He watched her from behind, wondering if she knew what the gentle sway of her hips was doing to him, how he wanted to grab her there and now, press her body against the wall and kiss the very life out of her. But he waited. He waited for her, because he knew she needed it, needed to be in control.
When they reached her door, he waited while she fumbled with her keys, a small smile toying with the corner of his mouth at her obvious discomfort. Finally, she fitted the key into the lock, nearly breaking it off in the slot before the door opened for her.
She didn't even turn around to look at him, just waited until the door closed before she turned. A look of surprise froze on her face when she realized how close he was—too close. With her head tilted back to look up at him, she took a small step back. Shrugging off his coat, she immediately went to throw it on an over-stuffed chair when she remembered it wasn't her own. "Here." She thrust it into his hands, as if holding it another second would be the difference between life and death. A string of curses was released in her head, and she was positive he could hear the heavy thumping of her heart in her chest.
"I had a nice time tonight." His voice was quiet, comforting, and it made her knees melt. "Thank you for coming with me to the cabin."
"I- I-" Her face flushed at the unexpected gesture of gratitude. "You're welcome." Walking over to the door, she opened it, a signal for him to leave. "It's late, and I need to get some sleep."
He nodded, and his eyes fell to the jacket in his hand. He didn't look at her as he took the three steps to the door, his boots whispering on the thick carpet. He paused, thought for a moment, then carefully—quietly—closed the door. His eyes met hers. And he knew.
She watched him hang the jacket on the doorknob to empty his hands. She continued to watch when he took a step closer to her, her mind telling her this was all a dream. That he wasn't really there, that she was in her bed, asleep, and probably drooling. But it looked real. And it felt real. And, when his hand cupped her cheek, it was real.
Her lips parted at the contact, and he took the opportunity to run his thumb over them once, then twice. Her breath was hot on his skin, and all he wanted was to taste it.
His other hand came up to frame her face, and she had to close her eyes and swallow hard to keep from losing herself in his eyes. She felt his right hand work it's way backwards and tug gently at the rubber band that bound her chestnut curls. Finally, he freed them, let her silky tresses cascade over his hand, and he couldn't help but comb his fingers through them.
Once again, his hand was on her face, tilting it back slightly, and to his left, before he leaned down to look into her eyes. His gaze faltered for a second when her tongue darted out to lick her lips, but returned to her eyes, silently asking permission.
And then the world stopped.
She felt his breath on her mouth a second before his lips were there. She rocked back, suddenly as unsteady as a child who's merry-go-round was stopped, and her hands automatically wrapped around his wrists to stead herself. He didn't push, didn't ask for anything more than this chaste kiss, but she offered.
Once she regained her balance, she let her hands come up to cup his neck, pulling him towards her as she rose up on her toes. Moving up his neck to his hair, they balled into fists, pulling gently on his blonde spikes. She felt his tongue trace her lips and allowed him entrance.
His tongue dipped into her recesses, ran along the edge of her teeth before it lazily fought her own tongue for dominance. She tasted of champagne and the salt her dried tears left behind.
His ears picked up soft moans coming from deep in her throat and they only served to fuel his fire. His left hand left her face and traveled down her side to the small of her back to pull him to her. It was like she had been made for him, her curves fitting into the angles of his body so perfectly.
He could've stayed like this forever, kissing her, pressing her body against his, but she pulled away. And in that fraction of a second, the world started spinning again.
His smile was lazy as she pressed her fingers to her lips now that they were no longer being branded by his searing mouth. With just one look at her, anyone could tell she was a woman that had been thoroughly kissed; her messy hair, the clouded look in her eyes, the swollen lips. He watched her chest rise and fall, and she pressed her other hand to it in an attempt to catch her breath.
Her eyes closed, and for a moment, he thought she was going to collapse. When she opened them again, her smile was dreamy and content, and it gave Jason a glimpse of what she would look like after they made love.
"I really need to get to bed." Her voice was thick and low, and only succeeded in making Jason want her more.
Instead of pulling her to him and kissing her again, he offered a nod and reached for his jacket. When he leaned down, she was afraid he would kiss her again, but he only kissed her temple, and murmured a soft good night in her ear.
She closed her eyes until the door clicked softly, and that's when she put a hand out to steady herself. Her legs felt like they were filled to the knees with water, and Elizabeth was pretty sure she wasn't going to make it to her bedroom on her own. She closed her eyes and gave herself a few deep breaths before attempting to walk down the hall to her bedroom.
On the other side of the door, Jason stopped and let himself slide back
into the normal world again before starting towards the elevators for another
night of restless sleep.