Cara had gone to find Dean but did not so she went to the one place that was quiet, the bridge. She sat there for awhile when a shadow lumed over her. She looked up and saw Dean looking at her.
Dean: You really are a lot like him.
Cara: Like who?
Dean: Jess
Cara: Dont tell me that.
She motions for him to sit down and he does, right next to her.
Dean: He was trying to be a good older brother.
Cara: Hes only five minutes older. Besides I am my own girl, not his, not anyones.
Dean: Someday maybe mine (he whispered not realizing she heard him.)
Cara leans closer to him and wrappes her arms around his arm and lays her head on his shoulder. Dean is in heaven. She could be the one.
Cara: What goes on between you two?
Dean: Oh, Long story.
Cara: I have all night. Please tell me.
Dean: Here goes. Rory and I were going out when Jess got here. Things were good. They became friends, even though I hated it. She did not care. She skipped school for him. He broker her arm, left to NY.
Cara: I remember that. HE felt so horrible. But she made it better,
Dean: HE came back, nothing was the same and she and I broke up. He and I have never liked each other.
Cara leans over to him and whispers: You guys will have to get along for my sake.
Dean smiles and pulls her to him and kisses her. He feels different. He never felt like this with rory. He feels alive. He kisses her harder and she does not pull away. He holds on to her. As he wrappes his arms around her she runs hands up his back. Finally neither one can breath and they must pull away.
Cara: Lets stay here awhile, ok
Dean: Ok. Um Cara
Cara: yeah?
Dean: Why didnt you tell me who you were when I met you?
Cara: I said my last name. Besides you never told me you went out with Rory.
Dean: I just did.
Cara: It did not seem important. I did not realize you guys had problems. Would you have had dinner with me had you known?
Dean: I dunno.
Cara kisses him and they lapse into silence again. Cara feels safe, safer than she has ever felt with any guy in her life, excpet for Jess.
At the Diner.
"I dare you," Rory grin, digging out a fluffy glob of Marshmellow puff with her forefinger, and holding out the jar towards jess. "And by the way, you know I septuple dipped....."
"You didn't have any communicable diseases last time I checked," he grinned. He reaches out.
But not towards the jar.
He takes her hand, and from that moment she cannot move. Bringing it up to his mouth, he makes burning eye contact;she is paralyzed, watching him with enormous eyes.
Slowly, and almost contemplatively, he tilts his head, taking her finger into his mouth. The edge of his teeth lightly scrape for a second over the top of her finger, a thin touch that sends tiny nerves in her body suddenly reeling. His mouth is warm and damp as he pulls it out slowly, his lips closed around it softly; he pauses as the top of it for a second, his tongue lightly brushing over her fingertip, removing the last trace of the sticky cream. He lets my hand drop, and she draws it back slowly, looking down, and she can feel her cheeks burning but she knows she is probably pale. Currents run through her, and the air is thick and electric. She is not sure what to do next.
"Too sweet for my taste," he says complacently after he swallows, as though nothing's happened at all. She digs her finger into the jar and place it in her mouth again. Standing up, she resolutely screw the lid on.
Rory: You who likes marshmellow Ice cream. (not looking at him)
"Did I scare you?" he says softly, cutting her off. His eyes are bright and dark in the warm, dim light of the storeroom.
He's still sitting on the box, slouched, watching her with an air she can't recognize for a moment. Then, she slowly realizes that particular mood that has no definition; it's the most dangerous one......
she nods.
"No," She says nervously, still nodding, and he smiles in amused disbelief, probably at her stubbornness.
"My fault," he says easily, and she stands there for a split second. She turns to go, when she feels his hand close in on her wrist. The long fingers easily wrap around it, gently urging her to turn around. Her body responds automatically, while her mind screams warnings. Rory easily ignores them, and they fade into the fog of oblivion. She is powerless, She has no will.......
He pulls her towards him, tillshe is facing him; he's still sitting down, and she is standing over him as he pulls her closer and closer. His hands go to her waist, and land there gently.
He rests his head against her stomach, and her fingers subconsciously run themselves through his hair. She is slowly breathing, almost afraid to, afraid to break the spell.........his hands slowly follow her sides, hesitate, and then slide over her back in a motion she is quickly grateful for. They start slowly pulling her down, inch by inch, his other hand parting her knees as he pulls her forward, until she is on his lap, facing him. She feels like she has been shot in the kneecaps; the music's ended and the only sound is breathing, softly melding. A small avalanche of chills find their way down her spine, and everything somehow instinctively tightens. His legs are spread a little, making her more comfortable as he pulls her closer, until she is next to him. The taut outlines of his chest meld to her torso as he lays his head down on her chest, sighing for a moment; she wraps my arms around him lovingly, feeling some kind of protective instinct for a second, as though he were her child. It disappears as his head tilts slowly upward, planting a soft kiss on her clavicle, then upwards, on her neck. Her skin prickles at his touch, leaving small trails of heat in his mouth's wake; the closeness of him, the soft warmth of his lips, his arms around her waist.
A tiny jolt ran through her as his finger played at the base of her neck, sending off a chord of dissonant screams in every sensitive cell of her body. His hands were soft and slow and almost careful, his mouth, the soft kiss he planted behind her earlobe that suddenly sent another soft shock throughher. He was taking his time, slowly seducing, not jumping into anything with unpracticed haste or thoughtlessness. And he was winning.her fingers lightly followed the strong angles of the lean face, over the cheekbones, and the clean cut jaw, the handsome nose. The skin was soft and warm under her fingertips, golden smooth.
Her wide blue eyes are filled with a million contrasting emotions; it's easy to see that she's making no effort to resist, no reluctance. She's sinking into Jess slowly, closer and closer, warmer, deeper, until she'll drown, and then he won't be able to help himself. But it won't be here, not like this. For now, all he can do is make her feel, teach her, leave her tied up tight and weak and useless, wanting. he can't stop.
Her hands are running over his shoulders, his arms, his chest, and through his hair. He knows it's time, so he winds my fingers in her hair, and she slowly bends forward, and lands like a butterfly.
She draws a breath in between his lips; he lets her linger there for a moment, unsure, just letting the electricity of the touch recede before his lips slowly close in, fitting around her bottom one, just pressing slow and soft until he is suffocating, going mad. he plunges, reckless, unable to hold back. A soft sound forms in her throat, her fingertips are burning on his skin, and her lips open with a gasp; he dives, her mouth sweet and marshmallow sticky, her lips seeking, struggling against his. Breath, another breath. A sound emerges, a tiny clink of her teeth against his, and her mouth is warm and damp, and open......her hips give a small jolt, fitted against his, as his tongue slides in, rough and soft against hers, running over the inside of her lips, drawing back, plundering again. He can feel the softness of each strand sliding in between his fingers as he hold her head in his palms, sliding them down to her neck, one falling softly down her spine.
Short, irregular breathing between Their lips. They touch, and break, hesitate, touch and break again, and then ferociously crush together, fighting, wanting, needing.
Rory pulling away: Night Jess.
Jess: But...
Rory: we are not studing and I have to go so good night
She walks out with a small, shy wave, and races down the street, into the evening darkness.