Chapter 5 – Dinnertime… err, sort of
"Sar, stop apologizing," Nick said with an amused chuckle, glancing over his shoulder at her slumped form on the kitchen's island. "I said it was okay."
Sara raised her head from her folded arms on the table in front of her. "I know what you said but it still doesn't help make me feel any less awful. I mean first I claw your back, then I go and shred your pretty face..." she moaned and dropped her head back onto her forearms.
"Oh, would you stop," he scolded lightly, dropping the spatula he was using on the counter and coming to sit on the bar stool beside hers. He rubbed her back and she reluctantly peeked up at him. "Okay, I'll allow that you gave my back a good mauling-"
She groaned and pulled away from him to once again hide her face.
"But," Nick continued, tugging on her arms and taking her hands, turning her until she was forced to face him but she still avoided his eyes. "Look at me Sara," he commanded softly, not continuing until she grudgingly did so.
"As I was saying, I like thinking that you were wild with lust and desire and lost total control when you scratched me. It does my ego good," he kidded, giving her a wink and making her giggle and roll her eyes at his narcissism. "But you certainly didn't 'shred' my, uh-" he struggled with her choice of words "-'pretty' face."
"Oh really?" she demanded, her grin falling. "How else do you explain this?" She reached over and plucked a tiny piece of toilet paper with a small dot of blood at its center off his jaw and held it up for him to see.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Stop being so dramatic," he said kissing the tip of her nose. "And I prefer the term 'handsome' by the way... or 'rugged'... Ruggedly hands-"
"I get it."
"Right. Where do you keep your cinnamon?"
"In there," she said, gesturing to one of the cupboards. "Top shelf."
He kissed her hands as he stood then released them, on a mission to find the cinnamon.
Sara rested her chin on her fist and smiled wistfully as she watched his lean body stretch to reach the spice off the top shelf, his blue jeans and the denim shirt he had chosen to wear clinging in all the right places.
He had rolled his sleeves up, revealing tanned sinewy forearms that would have given any Greek god a run for his money. She hated it when guys were so concentrated on beefing up their biceps that they neglected their lower arms but with Nick this was certainly not the case. He's got the whole package, she thought with a grin, observing his profile as he added some of the cinnamon to the French toast he was making.
Her eyes traveled from his forearms to his large dexterous hands that were veiny and ridiculously strong, their long fingers slightly rough with calluses and yet so gentle when they touched her, able to coax her into limitless ecstasy. She shivered at that thought.
"You keep staring at me like that Sidle, and neither one of us is going to get any dinner," Nick warned without even looking at her, feeling her heated gaze upon him. Startling her from her reverie he glanced over, a small grin playing at his lips. "Would you mind setting the table, please? This is almost done."
"Sure."
She pushed herself off the counter and went over to the cupboard to grab a couple of plates. Finding none in there she opened the dishwasher and bent over to pull the bottom rack out. Nick turned in time to see her sweet, beckoning, faded-Levi's clad butt pointing tauntingly up at him and groaned inwardly.
"Oh man, Sara having an ass that fine should be illegal," he muttered unable to pull his eyes off of her and gripped the counter tightly while trying hard to keep his libido under control. "Blam..."
She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, amused by the slack-jawed dopey-eyed look on his face. "Do you use those lame and groan-worthy pick up lines on all the girls Tex, or do you save them just for me?"
"At the moment, you're their sole beneficiary I'm afraid, my darlin'," he said with a light chuckle, stepping closer to her as she stood straight and turned to face him.
"Ooh, lucky me," she giggled, inhaling his aftershave and sliding her arms around his shoulders when he ducked his head to trail kisses along her neck and wrapped his hands around her waist.
"Did it hurt?" he mumbled into the delicate column of her throat, his thumbs finding the warm soft skin under her shirt.
"I know I'm going to regret this..." Sara said with a grin, running her fingers through his silky hair, and felt him smile. "Did what hurt?"
"When you fell from heaven," he replied sweetly, nuzzling her collarbone and taking a gentle nip.
"Oh, Lord," she groaned and laughed, shaking her head.
"You must be tired," he said, switching to the other side of her neck and lavishing it with the same careful attention so it wouldn't be jealous.
"And why is that?" Sara asked, still playing along.
"Cause you've been running through my mind all day," came his muffled reply from where his face was buried in her cleavage.
She laughed a deep throaty laugh and urged him back up to her, kissing him deeply and her hands framed his face. "Those are terrible!"
"I could go on," he said with a wide grin.
"I have no doubt, but I'd much rather you do something else with that talented mouth of yours," she replied saucily, pulling him into another hard kiss that tasted like coffee and toothpaste and he mumbled something that sounded like an agreement.
Not releasing his lips, Sara pushed him backwards until he was up against the refrigerator. She broke away and took her turn at his neck, licking, suckling and gently biting in all the right places to make Nick whimper softly. Her hands slid down his body to squeeze his firm butt through his jeans and his hands followed suit, holding her to him closely. He panted her name urgently when her fingernails raked up the front of his thighs and their mouths met again in a passionate fury. Together they started to slowly slide down the fridge to the linoleum floor, taking all the magnets stuck to the door and the notes and pictures they held with them.
He ended up sitting propped against the fridge with Sara straddling his lap. His fingers tangled in fistfuls of her hair, holding her mouth against his while their tongues swirled over each other. She ripped the snaps of his shirt open in one motion and splayed her fingers over the smooth skin of his chest, wishing she could touch him everywhere at once.
"God, Sara, you're going to kill me," he moaned, his hands sliding down to hold onto her hips in a bruising grip when she began grinding her pelvis against him.
"Nah, not yet Nicky," she grinned breathlessly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders under his shirt and thrusting her tongue into his mouth to duel with his.
He moaned again and tried to slide down further so he could lie flat but was annoyed to find there wasn't enough room between the refrigerator and the kitchen island to do so. Stubbornly refusing to disengage his mouth from Sara's, he somehow managed to shift them parallel to the fridge but when he went to lay down he cracked the back of his head smartly on the dishwasher door that had been left hanging open, rattling the dishes and cutlery inside.
"Owww," he whined, one hand going up to gingerly rub the spot he had hit.
"Oh, baby," Sara cooed sympathetically, unable to force back a laugh as she held his head in her hands and pressed a kiss on his brow then his lips.
"Glad you think my brain damage is so funny," he pouted against her mouth, still rubbing his head where a small bump was slowly starting to raise. Sara couldn't help but laugh harder.
"I'm sorry, are you okay?" she managed, propping herself up a bit and seeing his grumpy scowl. Receiving only a reluctant grunt that she assumed meant yes, she reached over him and slammed the evil dishwasher shut then shimmied back into place, delivering another scorching kiss to his lips. "There, is that better?"
He nodded eagerly and their fervent tongues met again and again as their kiss continued and he carefully laid them down again. His hands snuck up her t-shirt and stealthily unclasped her bra, then shoved it up out of his way. She mewled happily when his warm fingers slid around to caress her breasts. Gently he rolled them both over and his lips assaulted the creamy skin of her neck once more, working his way down to her chest.
"Ow, hold on."
"Oh, Christ now what?" Nick asked weakly, pushing himself up on his arms and looking down at her desperately. "I wasn't built to take this kind of torture you know."
"Just a sec." Sara winced, reaching under her lower back and pulled out the culprit: a Papa Smurf magnet. Nick stared at it for a moment then grabbed it from her and tossed it carelessly over his shoulder, making a small crash in her living room and she giggled.
"Now where were we?" he asked with a grin, settling himself in the familiar cradle of her thighs when her hands pressed down on his ass encouragingly.
Dropping his head to kiss her again, he somehow pulled her t-shirt over her head with one hand, pausing and letting her help the process along when the collar got stuck under her nose. Sara reached to push his shirt off his shoulders and then tugged insistently at his muscled arms until he lowered himself onto her completely. His fingers nimbly made their way between them to the button-fly of her jeans, and started to pop them open one by one.
All of a sudden a shrill piercing wail filled the air around them.
"What the f- What the fuck is that...?!" Nick demanded loudly to be heard over the horrible noise and looked up in frustration, his mind overcome with lust not understanding what this unwelcome interruption could possibly be.
"It's the smoke detector, you twit!" Sara shouted, shoving his chest in attempt to push him away. "Get off me damn it!"
"Oh shit, my French toast!"
Nick scrambled to his feet, his socks sliding on the floor, and managed to stub his toe and smash his knee on one of the barstools in his rush over to the stove, cursing loudly. He yanked the smoking pan off the burner and dumped its contents into the sink, quickly running water over it. What had once been a lovely dinner had now been reduced to a sad pile of charcoal. He giggled and shook his head.
Looking over he saw Sara had done up her bra and was standing on a chair. Coughing a bit, she was using his discarded shirt to fan the air around the smoke detector. From their position on the floor they hadn't noticed the haze of smoke that had risen to the ceiling.
When the alarm seemed satisfied enough to quit it's high pitched squealing she glanced down at him and grinned. "Oops."
"Told you you'd be the death of me," he said with a chuckle as he limped over to help her down, his hands on her waist. "Although, I guess there are far worse ways to go."
Giggling she slung her arms loosely around his neck and glanced at the clock on the microwave. "So much for our supper."
"Yeah, but that's okay," he said, leering at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I see something else I'd much rather eat."
"You dog," she teased and laughed when he bared his teeth and growled menacingly. Dropping a quick peck on his cheek she pulled away from him.
"Where the hell do you think you're going, missy?" he asked obviously more than a little perplexed.
"Well, you have to catch me first. You know, to work up an appetite."
"Oh, trust me my 'appetite' is already up," he chuckled, slowly advancing towards her as she backed away then turned and ran.
She didn't get very far before a strong arm grabbed her around the waist and she was tackled to the couch in the living room, shrieking and dissolving into a fit of giggles.