BURNING GLANCES
MEETING AU
RATED M
Even across the crowded room, even through the atmospheric fog and the low light and with her face mostly covered, she catches his eye. And he can tell that she's beautiful.
She sips a glass of champagne as she hugs the wall, her eyes sweeping across the room, and even from there, her eyes lock on his.
He's been nursing his own drink, and he quickly drains it as she starts walking towards him. He sets his empty glass on the bar behind him and starts to approach her, but before he can take a step, she's in front of him.
He can see now that she's almost as tall as him in her high heels. And his first impression was wrong. She isn't just beautiful.
She's stunning.
She notices him as soon as he enters the room.
He's one of the few men who arrives without a date on his arm, and although he goes straight to the bar and acquires something amber in a crystal tumbler, he doesn't throw it back as she'd expected.
No, instead he almost cradles it between sips, his eyes roaming across the room before landing on her.
She can feel the heat of his gaze even from here.
After several minutes of gazing at each other, she pushes herself off the wall and starts making her way towards him. Her eyes drop to his throat when he drains his glass in one big gulp, and she takes a sip of her champagne, runs her tongue across her lips.
Once she's close and can see more of his features, she feels her breath catch in her throat. The scruff along his jaw is enticing, and her thighs clench with speculation on how it would feel against her skin. She can tell his eyes are a bright blue, despite darkness pooling in his irises. What she can't tell is whether they're dark from the dimly lit room or desire. Judging by the way his gaze flicks down her body and lingers on the low sweetheart neckline of her gown, she thinks it's probably the latter.
Normally she's put off when a man stares at her chest, but she finds herself lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders in a wordless encouragement for him to look.
He clears his throat and lifts his gaze to hers. "I couldn't help but notice you over there," he says, just loud enough to be heard over the music. "Are you meeting someone?"
She stops herself from smirking at the apparent nerves in his baritone voice. "No." She leaves it at that; if there's one thing she learned from her short time with Vice, it's that if you leave a little to the mystery, you'll be that much more attractive to your target.
Not that he's a target, she has to tell herself. No, her days undercover are over. He's not a criminal, and she's not pretending to be interested for the sake of a sting.
She's interested in him for purely selfish reasons.
She lifts her champagne flute to her lips and takes a long sip, her eyes locked on his as he watches her drink. "Where's your date?" she asks when she empties the glass.
He plucks it from her fingers and sets it behind him, next to his. "I don't have one," he husks. "Do you dance?"
She quirks a brow. There are only a handful of couples swaying to music in the middle of the room, and she wouldn't typically want to join them. But still, if that's what it takes to feel his hands on her, she'll do it. "I can."
She places her hand on his, and he curls his fingers around hers, leads her to the dance floor. Her breath catches in her throat when he turns to face her, his other hand coming up to rest on her waist. His blue eyes bore into hers, his gaze intense, almost uncomfortable.
Her dress is low enough that it leaves the upper half of her back bare, and he slides his hand up, his fingers teasing her skin. His touch leaves fire in its wake, and she gasps when he hooks his finger in the top of the dress.
Her grip on his hand tightens and she steps closer, her body almost pressed against him. Even in her heels, he's a couple inches taller than her, so she leans back enough so she still can look into his eyes.
God, he's handsome.
Her gaze flicks to his mouth when he licks his lips, and she lists towards him, tempted to sink her teeth into his lip, to curl her tongue around his. His fingers dig into her back, though, and she stops herself from doing just that, suddenly aware of their public setting.
A subtle tightening of his grip on her hand is the only warning he gives before he spins her out from his body, their arms extended. She keeps her eyes on his as he jerks her back into him, spinning so her back is to him when he grips her waist once again.
She can almost feel the tension radiating from his body as he spins her again, this time ending with her facing him, his fingers splayed on the small of her back. Her only warning before he dips her is a smirk, but suddenly he's hovering over her, his grip firm, his gaze so intense she thinks she might spontaneously combust from desire.
When he pulls her back up she gasps at the heat in his eyes, and she curls one arm around his broad shoulder. "Nice move," she manages around the lump in her throat.
His hand on her back moves lower, his fingers flirting with the swell of her ass. "Just one of many." It comes out almost in a growl that has her flushing from head to toe.
Jesus Christ.
She glances at his mouth, then back up to his eyes. "Show me another one," she husks.
People are staring, but he couldn't care less.
As soon as the words are out of her mouth, he's pulling her off the dance floor, his eyes searching, desperate for someplace they can be alone. A hallway, a staircase, a-
He remembers that there's a door by the entrance, a spare bedroom being used as a coat room, and he smirks.
Perfect.
He barely checks that the room is empty before he has her back against the wall and his mouth on hers. Her tongue immediately sweeps across the seam of his lips, and he curls his fingers around the back of her neck, holds her head still as he welcomes her tongue into his mouth.
His nose bumps against her mask, and God, he wants to see her face, wants to see all of her. But when his fingers touch the bottom of the mask and he starts to pull it off, she steps out of his grasp and shakes her head. Realizing what she means, he gives her a slow grin.
Oh, she wants the mystery, wants the air of danger as she's fucked by a stranger, someplace they could easily be caught?
Consider it done.
He raises an eyebrow and jerks his head towards the pile of coats on the bed, and he quickly locks the door, so at least no one will walk in on them. His fingers freeze on his belt buckle when he turns back to face her.
She'd taken the liberty of pushing some coats aside, and she's kneeling on the bed, her ass in the air, and she looks back at him over her shoulder, her eyes dark through her mask.
He almost comes in his pants.
He's never been so grateful that he'd put a condom in his wallet just in case, and he quickly shoves his pants and briefs down his thighs, sheathes himself as he approaches her.
He palms her ass through her dress, squeezing when she squirms at his touch. When she meets his eyes and bites her bottom lip, he snaps, clawing at her dress, pulling up the long skirt until it bunches at her hips. He barely takes a moment to admire just how wet her panties are before he hooks a finger in them, holding them to the side as he nudges her entrance with the head of his cock.
They both groan when he pushes inside and fills her with one stroke. Most women he's been with have needed him to go slow at first, but this one, this perfect angel, arches her back and rolls her hips, encouraging him to move.
Despite her obvious need, he does start slow, pulling out in one long, tantalizing stroke. He hears her sharp inhale, and he freezes for a few moments, his tip just inside, clenches every muscle he can to stop himself from coming too soon and ending it for both of them.
Well, for him, at least. He'd still take care of her.
His mouth waters at the thought of tasting her, and he barely resists the urge to drop to his knees and do just that. They don't have time for him to savor it, not if they don't want to get caught. So he slides his hands under her dress, grips her hips, and slams into her.
She gasps and grips the duvet as his initial thrust propels her forward. He digs his fingers into her skin, holding her in place as he pistons his hips, and she groans, pushes her ass back into him with every slam of his cock inside her.
She drops her forehead to the bed, an orgasm already tugging at her core, and she presses her cheek against the bed, panting, her hips rolling in a wordless plea for more.
"Hard-"
Her orgasm takes her by surprise, her muscles spasming around him, her plea for harder interrupted by her cry of release. He pauses, his cock buried inside her, his fingers clenching as she trembles.
"Fuck," he groans into her ear.
The low growl of that one word almost sends her over the edge again.
Once she comes back to herself she squeezes her inner muscles in encouragement, and there's a sharp inhale followed by a slow, experimental slide of his cock. She grins and squeezes again, glances back over her shoulder when he freezes.
The mask only covers the upper half of his face, so she can see his jaw clench, a cord in his neck almost pulsing with his effort to stay in control. In the dim light she can barely see his eyes, but she can tell that they're closed, watches his broad chest rise and fall as he takes deep breaths.
Although she just met him tonight, she's had enough sex to recognize when a man is hovering on the edge. She can't help but feel a sense of pride that she's made him this way, that he's apparently so close to coming that he can't even move.
She's about to turn around and finish him off with her mouth when he twists around to look at the door. She hears the voices outside the door moments later, and she freezes, both of them tense until the people outside walk away.
Their eyes meet, and his lips curl in a sly smile. Her own smirk is short-lived as he tightens his grip on her hips and renews his thrusts with vigor.
She gasps, her fingers digging into the duvet once again, anchoring her as her arousal begins to overtake her.
She feels the mattress dip, and she manages to open her eyes long enough to see that he's shifted, has one foot on the bed, pounding into her with every sharp snap of his hips.
One hand leaves her hips and slides up her back, over her dress, between her bare shoulder blades to the back of her neck. Goosebumps follow in his wake until his fingers are in her hair, twisting strands in his grip, and tugging.
His touch is firm but not painful, rough but not unpleasant as he guides her up so her back aligns with his front. She gasps as his hand lets go of her hair and slides around to her chest, cups her breast through her dress.
She arches her back, pushing her chest into his touch, and suddenly she wishes that they were both naked, that she was feeling his skin against hers, that she could bury her fingers in his hair instead of touch herself.
His mouth finds her neck, open and panting, his grunts and her gasps filling the room as he pistons his hips faster. Before long it's too much, and with one final press of her fingers against her clit she cries out with her climax, her hips pushing back into his as she trembles.
Somehow her mask has stayed on this whole time, but as he bends her forward once again it slips from her face and lands on the bed. He doesn't notice, though, just pumps his hips a few more times before burying himself deep, his cock pulsing as he comes.
She presses her forehead to the bed as she tries to catch her breath, and she feels his lips brush against her back before he steps away. A whimper escapes her as he slips out of her, leaving her empty, but before she can compose himself enough to stand, there's the sound of a zipper, and the door opening.
When she turns around, he's gone.
She straightens her panties and dress and runs her hands through her curled hair, hopes that it isn't obvious that she'd just gotten thoroughly railed by a stranger in the coat room.
She freezes, realization creeping into her mind.
God, she just got thoroughly railed by a stranger in the coat room.
As tempted as she is to go back out to the party and find him, she doesn't think she could stand it if she saw him flirting with anyone else. So she finds her coat near the top of the pile, takes her phone from the pocket, orders an Uber, and sends Lanie a short text letting her friend know that she's going home.
Mask forgotten, she slips her coat on and leaves the party, unnoticed.
His eyes sweep across the café, searching, and when he spots the red scarf and purple beanie, he tucks his phone back in his pocket and approaches her. She's looking down at her phone, so he clears his throat, feels a tingle in his groin when she looks up.
Those eyes…
They're gorgeous. And very familiar.
Her eyes narrow for the slightest moment, but she darkens her screen and stands. "Rick?" she asks, hope in her voice.
He nods and clears his throat, holds out his hand for her to shake. "You must be Kate." He preens a little at the subtle flush that appears on her cheeks. "It's nice to meet you."
Kate offers a shy smile and takes the beanie off her head, revealing a cascade of waves that frame her face. "You too. Can I get you a drink?"
Rick chuckles and shakes his head. "Hey, I'm supposed to ask you," he teases. "Why don't you join me in line?"
They make small talk as they wait in line to order, and he finds himself getting lost in her eyes, in her melodious laugh when he tells a silly joke. The gold flecks in her eyes remind him of someone he'd met a few months ago, of a brief, sexy dance, a subsequent rendezvous in a dark room.
But there's no way this is her. The odds of being set up on a blind date with that same woman, in a city of over four million of them, are astronomical.
He hasn't been able to stop thinking about her, has stroked himself to release more times than he can count using only the memory as inspiration. He's here with Kate, though, so he puts the nameless woman out of his mind and focuses on the one in front of him.
Much to her surprise, Kate has a fabulous time with Rick. They talk over coffee for almost two hours, and she turns down texts from Lanie at the 30 and 60-minute marks, their standing agreement to offer each other outs from any date.
Instead, she finds herself agreeing to continue their date when a loud group of teenagers sit near them, and they wander through the neighborhood, fresh coffees in hand. Before she knows it, the sun is coming down and streetlights are blinking on. As soon as the sun dips behind the skyscrapers, the chill of the late January evening starts to seep into her bones, and despite her scarf and hat, she shivers.
A panicked look comes across Rick's face and he steps in front of her. As a shadow falls over his face from the streetlight above them, she's struck with familiarity, a flash of memory, of another set of blue eyes, partially hidden by a mask. She almost asks him if he'd been at that party, but she stops herself.
There are four million men in this city. There's no way Lanie set her up with the same one that she'd hooked up with just a few weeks before.
She'd told Lanie about the coat room, and Lanie had claimed not to know who the man was. Two weeks later, Lanie had asked if Kate was up for a blind date, and Kate had begrudgingly said yes.
Before the date, she'd been dreading it. Now, after almost four hours with Rick, she wonders just what in the hell she was worried about. Even though the man at the party had given her one of the best orgasms she's ever had that didn't involve batteries, tonight she's clicked with Rick more than she has with anyone.
"You okay?" Rick asks her, concern shining in those gorgeous blue eyes.
She gives him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, just got chilled." She shrugs her shoulders, hunching them around her ears. "I didn't realize it was so late."
He smiles. "Time flies, right?" he teases. He glances around, and a look of recognition washes over his face. "I know this is going to sound presumptuous," he continues, "but I live just a couple blocks away. Care for a nightcap?"
Kate hesitates, and he must see her indecision, because he tightens his grip on his cup and continues. "Feel free to say no. Or call Lanie and ask if I'm trustworthy. And nightcap can mean non-alcoholic hot cocoa," he adds, "if you don't want to drink in a stranger's home."
She shifts her weight between her feet. Normally, going home with someone on the first date is out of the question, preferring to keep to public spaces and neutral turf. But he has a point about Lanie; she's sure that Rick has been properly vetted. At the very least, Lanie wouldn't steer her wrong, and if she had included Javi and Ryan in on it, Rick's had a full background check.
Oh, what the hell.
"So Javi slips, grabs onto Ryan's arm-"
"Oh my God."
"And they both end up in the river!" Kate pauses and leans closer, curls her fingers around his forearm. "LT had to pull them out. He was so pissed!"
Rick throws his head back as he laughs, as Kate finishes the story of an arrest gone wrong. "Did you get the guy?" he eventually manages. He glances at her just in time to see her nod.
"Yeah, I caught up with him on the next block." She swipes her fingers across her cheeks and takes a few deep breaths. "And just because I was still pissed at the boys for cutting me out of the interrogation, I took full credit for the collar," she adds with a chuckle.
Rick snorts. "I'll bet they loved that." Although he'd briefly met the boys at Lanie's New Year's party, he doesn't know them that well. But he can imagine them climbing out of the East River, pissed off and dripping wet.
As their laughter begins to subside, Rick realizes that her hand is still on his arm, and he glances at it, then up at her. Her eyes are locked on his, the hazel darkening, and when her tongue darts out to wet her lips, he shifts to alleviate the sudden tightening in his pants.
The heat of her touch burns, setting every nerve ending on fire, and he reaches up to cup her cheek, watches as her eyes flutter closed and she starts to lean forward.
He closes the distance between them, and when their lips touch, her fingers tighten around his arm, and she pulls herself closer, curls her arm around his back. He slides his hand to the back of her neck, lightly grips as his tongue prods the seam of her lips.
She jerks back at his touch, but there's no panic in her eyes, just confusion. "I'm sorry, I-" She presses her fingers to her lips and shakes her head. "Just…"
Rick quirks a brow. "Deja vu?" he asks. When she nods, he brushes his thumb along her jaw.
Kate takes a deep breath. "It's just...the last guy I was with, he did the same thing."
"If you don't like it-"
"No, it's not that," she interrupts, her fingers tightening around his arm. She leans forward, her lips brushing against his. "I really like it," she whispers before taking his mouth once again.
Something inside him snaps when her tongue slides against his, and he trails his fingers through her hair, her soft, curled hair, smelling faintly of cherries-
It's his turn to jerk back, breathing hard, his eyes roaming her face as she huffs in frustration.
"It's you," he finally manages, the realization hitting him like a truck.
"I-" Kate starts to shake her head, but her gaze flicks past his shoulder, and her eyes widen as she stands.
He turns to watch her go towards his office, and when she grabs something off the open shelf, he grins.
Kate holds up the mask, the one she'd worn - and lost - just a few short weeks before. "You have it?" she asks, walking back towards him.
He nods. "Found it when I was getting my coat," he explains. He stands and approaches her, shoves his hands in his pockets.
"And you kept it?" When he gives her a crooked grin and shrugs, she barks out a laugh. "I don't believe this. Lanie must have figured out it was you," she continues, muttering almost to herself. She glances up at him and must recognize the look of confusion on his face. "I may have told her what happened," she admits.
Rick grins, and he puffs out his chest with pride. "I was notable enough to be discussed amongst girlfriends?" he teases. She flushes and starts to walk around him, but he snags her hand before she can pass him. He laces his fingers through hers and tugs so she's standing in front of him, and he cups her jaw with his other hand, tilts her face to look up at him. "Obviously she decided we'd get along," he rumbles, recognizing the way her eyes darken.
She flicks her gaze to his mouth and steps into him, pressing her body against his. "Obviously," she breathes. "Was she right?"
His breath hitches in his throat when her nose nudges his. He doesn't answer with words, instead descends onto her mouth, wraps his arms around her waist when she sighs and slides her tongue between his open lips.
He hears a low thud, and he vaguely registers that she's not holding the mask anymore when her arms curl around his neck.
Something inside him snaps, and he drops his hands to her ass, squeezes, holds her to him, presses his growing arousal against her. He hears a sharp inhale, but before he can react her hand is between them, her palm stroking him through his jeans.
Her fingers fumble with his belt buckle as he starts to walk her backwards, and he tears his mouth from hers, trails his lips down her neck, bucks his hips when her hand slips under the waistband of his boxers.
Somehow he manages to get them into his bedroom in one piece, no less than a miracle considering the firm, sure strokes of her hand on his cock. He takes a step back, extracting her hand from his pants - much to her dismay, if her whine of protest is any indication - and tugging his sweater over his head.
Her gaze darkens and flicks down his torso as his t-shirt follows, and she closes the distance between them, shoves his pants and boxers down.
Rick groans when she frees his erection and curls her fingers around him once again, gives him a few experimental pumps. His fingers find the hem of her shirt, and she lets go of him long enough to undress. He cups her breasts in his palms, brushes his thumbs across her nipples, bends down to take one hard bud in his mouth.
She gasps and arches, the hand not around his cock flying up to his head, holding him to her chest. Her strokes quicken, and he feels a familiar tightening in his groin, but he doesn't want to come yet, so he steps away and nudges her towards the bed.
She steps out of his arms and kneels on the bed, her ass facing him, and he groans at the familiar picture it paints. He doesn't want to take her from behind, though, not this time. So he flips her onto her back and kneels over her, presses his palms against her thighs to part her legs.
She lifts her hips as he slides his hands up her smooth skin, his eyes on his destination, and he smirks when his fingertips touch her center and she gasps.
"Oh God," she breathes, digging her fingers into the bedspread.
He chuckles and lowers his head, swipes his tongue through her folds, can't stop himself from moaning at her taste. She buries her fingers in his hair, and he cups her ass and holds her to him. He licks up to her clit, and he flicks his tongue, makes a mental note of how she gasps and tightens her grip on his hair.
He grinds his cock into the mattress, desperate for relief, but he's determined to make her orgasm at least once before he fucks her. As soon as he slides two fingers inside her entrance and curls them, stroking her inner walls, her hips lift off the bed and her heels dig into his back, her thighs trembling as she spasms around his fingers and rolls her hips against his mouth.
He takes his time swiping up the remnants of her orgasm with his tongue, but after several long moments, she tugs on his hair, guides him to hover over her.
He can't help but grin at the satisfied look on her face, and she gives him a lazy smile, tugs his mouth to hers. His tongue curls around hers, and she moans into his mouth, hooks her leg around his thigh and rolls her hips into his.
His erection is almost painful, but he leaves her embrace long enough to find a condom in his nightstand drawer and sheathe himself. She reaches for him when he returns to her arms, and she grabs his waist, throws her head back and sighs when he guides his cock to her waiting entrance.
Her fingers dig into his side as he pauses with his tip just inside, the memory of their first coupling fresh in his mind.
God, she feels perfect. Like they were fucking made for each other.
He slides all the way inside, and they both gasp when his pelvis touches hers, his cock as deep as it can go. He doesn't pull out all the way at first, starting with just a few short, experimental pumps, but before long, she tightens her grip on his waist and stares into his eyes.
"Harder."
Rick smirks, and grants her request, thrusts into her with enough force that she cries out with every slam of their joined bodies. He can barely keep his eyes open from the pleasure coursing through him, but he manages to watch her as he presses his thumb against the side of her clit. Her eyes fly open to meet his, and she gasps, a flush creeping up her chest as she cries out and falls over the edge.
He swipes two fingers through her release, his knuckles brushing against his over-sensitive cock, and although he'd intended to give her another orgasm first, his own touch sends him soaring towards his climax. He grips her ass so hard he wouldn't be surprised if he leaves bruises, pistons his hips as fast as he can, and comes with a hoarse shout.
He manages not to collapse entirely on top of her, instead lands at her side, his chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath.
"That-" he gasps. He gives himself a few seconds, but even then, all he can manage is a breathy "wow."
Kate just grunts in agreement.
After several minutes he manages to sit up, and when he glances at her and notices the dazed look still on her face, he chuckles. "Did I break you?" he teases.
She tilts her head towards him. "I dunno. Might need another round to find out." Her eyes sweep down his naked body, lingering on his groin, which despite the recent action starts to respond.
He bends down and takes her mouth with his, moans when her arm curls around his neck, holding him to her. He manages to extract himself from her embrace so he can quickly take care of the condom, and when he returns to his room she's shifted to the head of the bed, her eyes locked on his as she swirls a finger through her folds.
He grabs another condom and sets it on top of the nightstand before batting her hand aside and settling between her legs. "Allow me," he almost growls as he lowers his mouth to her once again.
11 MONTHS LATER
The party's already in full swing when they arrive - their tardiness is entirely his fault, she reminds him as he takes her coat with a wink - but nobody seems to notice that her hair is a little disheveled and he's walking with more swagger than normal.
Of course, that could not only be from the quickie in the car, but also from the ring on her finger.
She shouldn't have been surprised that he proposed, especially since they'd been in a relationship just shy of a year, since their blind date-slash-reunion.
"There's a lock on that door," Rick mutters in her ear, his arm sliding around her waist.
She nudges him in the side. "We're not having sex in the coat room again," she insists.
Rick glances down at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and Kate feels the beginning tugs of arousal, and a slow realization.
He's going to spend the whole night teasing her until she's so worked up that she drags him away for sex.
Well...she won't exactly be an unwilling participant.
"You guys made it!"
Rick barely lets go of her before Lanie is pulling her in for a tight hug, and Kate blinks a few times, hugging her friend back. "Of course we did," she says when she manages to extract herself from Lanie's embrace.
"It is New Year's, plus you're the new head coroner?" Rick points out, pulling Lanie in for his own hug. "Where else would we be?"
Lanie grabs Kate's left hand. "Celebrating by yourselves." Her eyes drop to Kate's ring, and she gasps. "Holy shit," she breathes, looking up at Rick. "You did good."
Kate rolls her eyes at the way her now-fiancé preens. She had the same reaction - the ring is fancy without being gauche, a simple diamond and gold band, classy and not too flashy. She glances up at Rick and can't help but flush at the look of pure love in his eyes. "Yeah, he did," she agrees, craning her neck in a wordless plea for a kiss.
"Do you have a date yet?"
Kate scoffs. "We've been engaged for three days, Lanie."
"And we've been too busy having sex to think about it," Rick adds, earning another elbow in his ribs.
Lanie just laughs and guides them towards the bar. "Well, come on, you guys need drinks. But not too much in case you want to steal away to the coat room," she adds with an exaggerated wink.
Kate feels her face flush with embarrassment, but Rick just chuckles and drops a kiss to the top of her head before handing her a champagne flute.
"To a new year, full of exciting opportunities and new adventures," he says, holding his glass up.
The three of them clink their glasses before taking a sip, and when the song changes, Rick's eyes widen and he sets his down. "Come on," he tells Kate, "this is our song. The one we danced to," he adds at her confused look. "Last year. Before we-"
"Okay, yeah, I got it, I was there too," she interrupts, nudging him towards the floor.
He chuckles and pulls her into his arms. They don't spin and dip like they did last year, instead just sway to the beat, but as she rests her cheek on his shoulder and feels the warmth of his touch through her dress, she thinks that life can't get any better than this.
-FIN-