A/N: Mature Content
I check my watch for the twelfth time in ten minutes before returning to stare at the handle of the oversized wooden front door. I can't stop my legs from bouncing while I sit on the staircase waiting for Lena to get home. I pull them up and wrap my arms around my knees. I'm so nervous I could puke. I've never done anything like this before. What if she hates it or thinks it's weird that I came in when she wasn't home? She gave me the key two weeks ago but what if it's too soon to just let myself in? I can't shake the worries that keep running loops in my head but I had to take the risk. I've never messed up like this before and I feel so guilty for letting my insecurities hurt her. She's so good and kind and her support has been endless. I could live a hundred lives as a saint and not deserve Lena Adams. I'm so angry at myself for being so stupid.
The sound of her car pulling up comes muffled through the door and I can feel my knees shaking as I stand up. I clasp my hands in front of me while I wait, desperately trying to ignore the somersaults going on in the pit of my stomach. It's too quiet and I resist the urge to run out the door to her. Finally the car door thuds and the clicking of her footsteps gradually grows louder. It comes to a stop and I watch the deadbolt turn after the metallic sound of her key sliding into the lock. The door swings open slowly.
"Oh god!" Lena startles before recognition comes to her eyes. I try to stifle a chuckle, a nervous habit I've always hated.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay," Lena says. Her hand is on her chest. "I saw your car outside. I just wasn't expecting you to be right inside the door." As she breathes deeply to settle her nerves I walk over to her. My knees are still shaky.
"I have a surprise for you." I try to play it cool; to sound casual. But as I stand in front of her I catch her perfume, delicate and warm. It smells so much like her and the familiarity makes me feel clingy and sappy. She tilts her head to the side and it makes me smile because I've noticed she always does it when she's curious.
"You do?"
"Mhmm. And scaring the shit – er… scaring you when you got home wasn't it. Just a bonus." I wink at her and when she smiles it's laced with pride. She's proud of me for something as minor as catching my poor language. To anybody else it wouldn't even register but because I'm doing it for her, she's proud of me. And I'd do anything to make her proud. I'm addicted to it. She makes me better and nothing feels as good as living up to her expectations. Which makes the way I acted last night so much worse.
"What's the surprise?" Lena asks, anticipation in her eyes. She follows my gaze to the ceiling and the look on her face when she sees the bundle of mistletoe over her head is so sweet I swear my heart could burst. I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around her tiny waist. She looks at me and there is nothing but forgiveness in her eyes. Even if I left everything unsaid she would have already let it go. Her understanding only makes the guilt grip my stomach harder.
"I'm sorry about last night."
"I know. I shouldn't have let it get to me. It's okay."
"No, Lena. It's not. I freaked out over something so stupid and you deserve better from me. I don't want you to think I'm ashamed of you or of us. I'm not. I'm just still getting used to all of it. I'm so sorry."
"I know, Stef. I shouldn't have pushed you. You've come so far since coming out. I should have asked you if you were comfortable instead of just assuming you'd be okay since it was a party with so many gay couples. I'm just as much at fault. I'm sorry."
I shake my head in utter disbelief. "I freaked out because you wanted to kiss me under the mistletoe at a holiday party full of people who wouldn't have batted an eye and you're apologizing? God, I will never know how someone so good could love me." There is a softness in her eyes that makes my insides melt.
"You're not so bad yourself, you know," she says and the smile that accompanies her words breaks my last ounce of restraint and draws me in. I slide my hand beneath her hair to her neck and gently pull her to me. As our lips meet I feel her arms wrap around my neck and she leans in to me. Her lips are warm and sweet. Actually sweet; like strawberries. Every time I kiss her and taste her lip balm I wonder how I survived an entire lifetime deprived of strawberry kisses. Now I can't even go a day without them.
Her full, strawberry lips slide against mine and the tenderness of it, the tenderness of her makes my already shaky knees weak. I have to pull back to keep them from giving out. She thinks I'm strong but it's all an act. She doesn't know it but this woman could drop me to my knees with a single breath.
"Thank you for this," she tells me. Her brown eyes are sparkling up at me and I know that I don't have to worry anymore about last night. I still haven't quite figured out how her anger works. She seems to just suddenly explode with no warning. But as suddenly as she can be angry, she forgives just as easily.
"You're welcome but it's not over."
"It's not?"
I shake my head and suddenly I'm brimming excitement. I can feel the stupid grin on my face as I slide my hand down into hers and our fingers lace together. Leading her by the hand, I pull her over to the doorway to the living room. She bumps into me, not expecting me to stop just steps from the front door. I pull her with one arm against me and she laughs against my lips when I kiss her. It only takes her a beat to catch up to me. I feel her body relax into mine and her hands come to rest on either of my hips, urging me closer.
"Where's the rest of my surprise?" she mutters mid-kiss.
"You're standing under it," I tell her and she breaks away to peer up at the bundle of mistletoe hanging from this doorway.
"Just how much mistletoe is in this house, exactly?" she asks me, her eyes narrowing. I try to look casual but I'm so relieved she's happy that I can't keep that damn smile off of my face.
"I don't know. Why don't we go find out?" This time I let her lead. Her eyes are on the ceiling and she stops in the doorway to the kitchen. "More already?" I tease as she turns toward me.
"Mhmm. Whoever hung all of these must have been very desperate." Her comment catches me off guard and I can't contain my burst of laughter. I never know when this feisty side is going to come out but I love when it does. The first time I ever saw this side of her I knew I was in trouble. She plays this calm and collected character but under the surface there's a raging fire and that's what I fell in love with.
She surprises me again when she grabs my face and pulls me in, kissing me fiercely; forcing me to swallow my laughter. My stomach flutters and my mind goes black. I just feel her warm lips, her tongue against mine, her hand that has moved down to my neck. Just as I break through the surprise and catch up to her, she stops as abruptly as she started. A whimper of disappointment escapes from my throat and Lena cocks an eyebrow. "Definitely desperate."
I laugh because I can't deny it and when she takes my hand to lead me through the kitchen there's a swagger in her normally brisk stride. I think she must be on to me; must know how desperate I am for her. How much I want to please her, how tightly my heart is wound around her fingers. I guess I'm not as good at pretending to be tough as I thought. When she kisses me beneath the doorway leading back to the entryway she must know from the way I cling to her. She must feel my hands shake; must taste the helplessness on my lips.
"Is there more?" she asks when we are back in the entry way where we started.
"Mhm." I glance toward the stairs and her eyes follow.
"Was that there when I came home? How did I miss it?" She shakes her head and her hair ripples gently down her back.
"You were distracted by all of this," I say, indicating my body, exaggerating the flirtation. I gave up trying to be genuinely flirtatious long ago. Fortunately, Lena finds my humor charming; for reasons I'll never understand.
"That could do it." Lena laughs as she says it but when she pulls me over to the stairs beneath the mistletoe at the bottom, her lower lip is between her teeth and the look in her eyes takes my breath away. She presses the length of her body against me and I hold my breath when she hovers her mouth so close to mine. She's watching as she tortures me. The corners of her mouth turn up in a devilish smile. Impatient, I try to catch her lips with mine but she pulls away. When I relent she comes back, so close this time I can feel her breath on my lips and I swear my heart is going to pummel its way out of my chest. The tension makes my skin tingle and when she finally presses her lips to mine a shiver shoots down my spine and explodes in a ball of heat in my stomach. I can feel her hand on my cheek, her thumb caressing it so softly, and I grip her waist to hold myself steady as my head spins.
Leaving me with a final peck, she guides me up the stairs. She stops at the top, kissing me deeply though I've not hung any mistletoe here. Heat scorches through me when I feel her hands slip into the back pockets of my jeans. I tug the bottom of her blouse out of her pencil skirt. Her skin is warm beneath my hands and so smooth and soft. I kiss the spot beneath her ear and my hand settles in the valley at the small of her back. I love this spot. I don't know why, there's just something about how feminine it is that always draws me to it.
Lena runs her hands around to the front of my hips and up my chest to wind her arms around my neck. I search for her lips again. She nips my bottom lip and it breaks me. I can feel myself losing control when I push up her skirt and lift her from the floor. She wraps her legs around my hips and I carry her down the hallway to her bedroom, our heated embrace unbroken. When we reach the bedroom I press her against the doorframe. There's more mistletoe here and though we're no longer playing my little game, it feels right to complete the whole process. I press my lips to her jaw, her neck, the hard surface of her chest revealed above the neckline of her blouse. Her hands are tangled deep in my hair, her fingers pulling at it.
I take her to the bed and place her in the center. She wastes no time, pulling at the buttons of my shirt while returning my urgent kisses. We break when I pull her silk blouse over her head and I can see her lips are swelling pink. As I kneel between her legs, I shake my shirt from my shoulders and toss it so it joins hers on the floor before I strip her of the rest of her clothes. Her body is long and lean, her muscles trim. And yet she's not angular as I would expect of someone so slender. Her body is made of slopes and gentle curves that rise and fall smoothly in the same way as the melody of a lullaby.
I hope she can't feel the slight tremble in my hands as they touch her. I'm still trying to pretend I'm confident and strong but just the sight of her causes an earthquake in the depths of my soul. How do you stand tall when a force so powerful turns your world on its head? In this moment I succumb to my weakness, accept that I will never again rule my own heart and as I press my lips to the flesh between her breasts I am sure that no downfall has ever been so sweet.
Savoring the taste of her skin, I make my way back to her lips. I am met with desperation; with a fierceness that I've never seen from her. Lena is usually slow and controlled. I'm usually the one who pushes for more and I'm surprised by how much her passion fuels my own desire.
I kiss beneath her chin and she pushes her head back to allow better access. My path back down her body is direct. I use my hands to play and tease while my mouth focuses on its destination. Her belly sinks in, forming a deep canyon as my breath washes over it, causing her to inhale sharply. I press her legs wider, my hands now on the backs of her thighs. I look up at her, over the hills and valleys of her body, and see her watching me. Despite myself, I still get nervous about this. I still worry that I'm not good enough, that my lack of experience will turn her off and scare her away. But she smiles at me and reaches one hand down her side for me to hold.
I lace our fingers together and she squeezes my hand. The silent encouragement is all I need. I lay a kiss to her clit, so light she almost won't feel it. I flit my tongue across it before pressing more kisses to the dark surrounding flesh. When I draw my tongue up the length of her, she lets out a quiet moan. The sound spurs me on and I pull her in between my lips, sucking gently. I flick the tip of my tongue over her clit before I let it slide from my mouth and each flick makes Lena's body spasm. I play with her, doing what I know she's liked before, repeating things she reacts to now. Every sign that she's enjoying it encourages me. It doesn't take long until she grows slick and it mixes with the wetness from my tongue. Her body reacting to me is always so erotic. The way her breath catches in her throat, the involuntary muscle contractions, how she grips and pulls at me, the throaty groans she can't stifle – all of it stirs something in me I never thought possible. A depth of desire I thought was fiction. It takes over now and I lose myself in her. She rocks against my mouth as I press the flat of my tongue against her. I slide it against her clit over and over quickly and she presses down toward me. Her free hand finds its way to my hair, pulling me in closer. Her breathing is loud and short, filling the room, punctuated by random moans. She strains hard against me, her body frozen in the midst of a trembling quake, her hand a vice around mine. I continue my pace until a primal sound presses into my ears and her body sinks deep into the mattress.
Our fingers are still laced but the muscles in her hand, along with the rest in her body have lost all tension. I pull myself up so that I can lay my head on her belly. I close my eyes, listen to her breathing, feel my head bob with each of her shallow breaths. As I trace a random pattern along the length of her forearm I am unaware of time. We could lay here for a minute or a year and I wouldn't know the difference. I feel her start to laugh before I hear it and I pick my head up to look at her.
"What's so funny?" I ask. There's warmth in her eyes beneath her heavy eyelids when she looks at me. She picks up a limp hand and points to the ceiling over the bed; a crooked, satisfied smile on her face.
"More mistletoe."
