(A/N): Well, here I am again. I am really working hard to up the tension in this story so that some serious smut can occur within the next couple of chapters. My niece was a little disappointed that the only smutty scene in the story so far was a dream sequence, and wrote quite the little review for me. So this chapter and the next are for my niece Becka.
Chapter 10 or Sexy Talk Here I Come!
Harry heaved a sigh and lay down on his bed. He finally had a few moments to himself and needed the time to think over the past couple of weeks. Those weeks had seemed to fly by in a whirlwind of confusion for him. He was feeling so confused at this point, that he seriously did not know what to think anymore.
It seemed that wherever he would see Pansy, he would ultimately see Blaise Zambini. The tall Slytherin seemed to have a fascination for Pansy, and the girl seemed to like the fact that she was getting so much attention from the tall lanky boy. Classes with the Slytherins were hell for Harry. Where, before, he could not wait to get to those classes, he now delayed as long as he could before going into the classroom. Where once he had watched Pansy and dreamed of a day when she would be his – and his alone, he now had to watch as Blaise sat next to her, put his arm around her and lovingly lifted her arm out of the puddle of ink she inevitably would create by knocking over her ink bottle.
Harry sighed dejectedly and put his arm over his eyes. He had taken flirting and kissing lessons from Ron and even had boned up on his writing skills, all to impress some girl – the same girl that was now cuddling up to another guy. He was tired and he was heart-broken and no-one seemed to care.
This was not the only thing that was concerning him that night. Oh, no. Harry had never considered himself a genius, but even he knew that something was going on at Hogwarts. For starters, Lavender was finally leaving him alone – or rather Pansy was making her leave him alone. That in itself was not concerning, but he had also heard some pretty disturbing rumors going around about Lavender, Pavarti and Madame Hooch. He was not sure what to believe anymore, but he did know that Madame Hooch had apparently disappeared almost overnight
Harry sat up and rubbed his hand over his face tiredly. There was another pressing problem that he needed to deal with soon. Ginny. The small red head had been acting totally out of character around him for the past week or so. At first, she had holed herself up in her room and only came out for classes and meals. She had not come out to socialize like she used to and everyone had began to worry about her. Before Ron or Hermione had become worried enough to check on her, though, she had emerged from her self-induced solidarity. Her behavior once out of her room had him worried almost as much as when he found she was sequestering herself in her room.
Ginny had begun to sit with Harry, Hermione and Ron no matter where they went. At first, Ron had tried to make her stop – to leave Harry alone, but eventually even he gave up when he saw that Ginny was not going to give up. She did not just sit – mind you – she stared at him, winked at him, tossed her beautiful red hair around and began brushing up against Harry every chance she got.
She would do something as innocent looking as bending down to pick up a dropped quill, but on the way back up; she would make sure that she would brush against his leg. On the way to classes, if they should meet up in the halls, she would make sure that she brushed against him when she passed. Ron would scowl and Hermione would grin slyly at him while she did this, but no-one seemed to be able to curb her flirting. On and on, her list of brushing offenses ran and Harry was starting to become quite confused by her behavior. Even night time had become a scrambled jumble of confused hormones for him.
Harry would go to sleep and start to have a wonderful dream of Pansy and somehow, her beautiful dark features would blur until it was Ginny's blue eyes he was gazing in to; Ginny's fiery red hair he envisioned spread out against his sheets. Just about every night this week, Harry had woken up, his body still throbbing from some erotic dream starring Ginny and have to go take a cold shower to get his emotions under control again. Sooner or later, something had to give, and Harry just hoped that if it had to be his bones, that Ron and the other Weasley's would hurt him later, rather than sooner.
Harry cringed at the memory of Ron catching him watching – fantasizing over Ginny one night in the common room. Ginny had been sitting in front of the fire, reading, and Harry had been transfixed, mesmerized by the sight of her red hair almost glowing in the light cast by the fire. He did not take his eyes off of her until he had felt Ron lean in towards him and whisper a warning in his ear.
"I pity the poor bloke who ever hurts my sister." Oh, sure. Ron had sat back and smiled at him afterwards, but Harry had gotten the message loud and clear. Mess with my sister, mess with all six of her brothers. Harry sighed and lay back down on his bed. He could hear the rest of the guys coming up over the stairs and did not want to be disturbed, so he pulled the bed hangings closed and pretended to be asleep when Ron came to check on him. He closed his eyes and tried to think about anything except Ginny. His last thought before he went to sleep was that he would figure it all out tomorrow, right now he was too tired and confused to bother.
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Ginny had it all planned out that tonight, she would make her move now. She had been working on getting Harry to notice her as someone other than Ron's little sister, and she thought she was doing pretty well. She waited until Hermione and Ron had gone up to bed, leaving Harry alone in front of the fire waxing his broom.
The time was now to set her Inner Vixen free. Naughty Nine number one – sexy talk – here I come! Ginny stepped towards Harry, keenly aware of his bright, intense gaze on her. She was fully clothed, but was so nervous; she might as well have been naked.
She focused on her feelings for the boy in front of her and let it feed her courage. Her fear – er, that is, her inhibitions slipped away, leaving only desire in its wake.
"Hey Ginny." Harry smiled and Ginny's eyes widened. "How have you be-"
"Tell me something." She cut in.
He eyed her. "Like what?"
"I don't know…" Her hand reached out towards him and accidentally brushed against his broomstick causing it to fall on the floor. "Why do you love flying so much?"
Harry bent down and picked up his broomstick. "Oh, I don't know." He answered absently while checking the broom for nicks after its fall. "I have loved flying since the moment I first got on a broom." He smiled. "I was good at flying and quick." Harry thought back on his accomplishments before coming to Hogwarts. "Yeah, it was something that I was good at, and it is an unbelievably freeing experience for me….being up the air."
Ginny swallowed her fear. "I bet it was some kind of ride the first time you climbed on." The statement did not come out quite as breathless and sexy as she'd intended. It hung in the air between them and her courage faltered. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Sure, she wanted to loose her inner wild woman, but if he wasn't a willing recipient of so much wildness, she couldn't very well force him. At least, not unless that was what he secretly wanted. Wasn't that number five on Madame X's list? She asked herself absently. "But maybe not." She started to turn, her dwindling courage getting the best of her. "It's kind of late. I'd better head upsta-"
He cut her off. "It was exhilarating and scary at the same time." His gaze locked on hers. "And I loved every minute of it." His hand stroked up and down the broomstick. "So much power, beneath you, surrounding you." He turned and his gaze fused with hers once again. "Once you get a taste of that, you can't help but want more."
Boy did she ever. She licked her lips and thought of his lips on hers.
Harry's eyes followed the motion of her tongue and undisguised want flashed in their emerald depths. He wanted her. And unquestionable sureness sang through her for a few seconds before he broke the spell by turning away.
"I'd love to take a ride." She tried again.
"So would I." His words, soft and bone-melting, echoed through her head as he stared at her-into her. Then as if he realized what he had just said, he shook his head and turned away. "I mean, I do. Love to fly, that is." He blurted out and then let out a deep breath. "Particularly on my Firebolt. It is practically all I think about ever since I received it."
"Want to know what I've been thinking about?" Before he could reply, she rushed on. "I've been thinking about how much I'd like you to kiss me." She touched his hand, her fingers closing over his. His skin seared hers and every nerve in her body felt the blast.
"About how your lips would feel against mine." She searched for every erotic word she had read over the past week and tried to voice the need coursing through her. "How you would taste, how your tongue would feel sliding against mine." His muscles rippled and flexed beneath her touch. "What are you thinking about? What are you imagining right now?"
His gaze shifted from where her hand rested atop his and his bright green eyes caught hers. He simply stood there, the muscles in his jaw ticking, his nostrils flaring. "Snitches." He finally murmured.
"Come again?"
"Bludgers." He turned back to his broomstick and started waxing the handle. "Fouls, Penalties."
"Wha-what are you going on about?"
"Quidditch. Terms and positions."
O-kay. It wasn't exactly "Ginny I want your hot body," but then his life did revolve around Quidditch, so maybe he considered shop talk sexy. If he thought he was turning her on, she wasn't going to burst his bubble.
"I want you to kiss me." She went on. "I want to feel your lips on mine, your hands on my body, sliding down my neck, my breasts, my-"
"Time for bed." The wax hit the floor and he reached for her elbow.
"My thoughts exactly. I mean, I know you're feeling this too. Unless that's a wand you keep in your pocket, but you appear to keep that tucked up your sleeve, so I'm betting it's an all together different sort of wand."
"Keepers, Seekers, Beaters, Quaffles." He called out as he ushered her towards her room.
"Look, I know Quidditch terms are probably stimulating to you and I'd love to say they do the same for me, but I prefer a few different adjectives."
"Here we are," He answered, steering her in front of the door to her room so fast she nearly pitched forward. A strong hand on her arm held her back, though and his fingers seemed to burn her skin through her blouse and send a wave of heat rushing through her, to consume her.
She turned towards him, her lips puckered and raised. This was it! They were finally going to do it. Finally! She cracked one eye open just in time to see him turn away.
"Hey! Where are you going?"
"To bed." He called over his shoulder.
"You're going the wrong way. The bed's in here."
"My bed." He grinned and though it was quite dark, she could make out his bemused head-shake. "Sweet dreams, Red."
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"What happened? I thought I was doing pretty well." She grumbled to herself as Harry disappeared down the stairwell. After all, for all her wild ideas about releasing her inner vixen, she'd never actually done any of this before. She'd never walked up to a guy and whispered a four letter word. She'd never laughed and giggled as some hunk had whispered them to her. This was her first time, and she'd needed a little encouragement to get her nerve up. A few kisses and she felt certain she could have blurted out enough dirty words to make even one of those muggle sailors blush.
Not that it would have done much good, she concluded. Sure his wand had been aimed and ready to duel, but he'd still walked away.
He obviously was not a talker.
So much for fantasy number one, she thought dismally. She was not going to take this rejection personally. Everyone had their hot button and she simply had not punched his tonight. Tomorrow was a new day. She would just have to move on to number two, and if that did not work? Oh well, she would just keep going until she found Harry's weakness. Where there was a will there was a way – actually, where there were desperate hormones, there was a way and she was determined to find it. He'll be putty in my hands, He would she told herself for the hundredth time.
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Don't think about it.
Harry's brain issued the thought, but his overzealous band of hormones were frantically chanting "Go get her boy."
He wanted to. He really did. He wanted to pull her into his arms and feel her luscious mouth against his own. He wanted to lave her nipples with his tongue, to have her naked and willing beneath him. His body throbbed in awareness; she was tempting and he was only flesh and blood. Weak.
"Ron." He murmured, drawing in a shaky breath, willing his feet not to move back up the stairs to her.
"George, Fred, Bill, Charlie." He ticked off the reasons why he could not be with Ginny.
Don't think about it. His brain issued the command again, and surprisingly, the rest of his body listened. He heaved a sigh of relief and made his way up the stairs towards his bed. Maybe tonight, he would get a decent nights rest, he thought, but somehow, he just couldn't make himself believe it.
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(A/N) Enjoy people. I will be posting the next chapter towards the middle of the week, if anyone is interested. I think I have a notion on how to write this without blushing, so I will give it a try.
Thanks to all my reviewers out there. You are all great!! I love all of you and you make me want to write the next chapter even when I have bad writers block going on.
Have a great weekend people!!
Love Lisa