The Model Agent
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: Oh look, more No-Plot! -winks-
Summary: Sarah Walker's modeling career is in its budding stages when the CIA recruits her into their ranks at 16. 10 years later, she's balancing being a world famous supermodel and actress with spying for the CIA. Her existence is fraught with danger and she's constantly on the go, until she meets a disarmingly sincere man on the beach...and her life is changed forever.
Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK. I am not making any money writing this story.
He heard her footsteps behind him. Without looking at her, he held up one of the glasses with the champagne already poured. "I hope it's okay I used these. They were already out on the counter."
Sarah stepped up to the counter next to him and he turned to give her one of the flutes. But he stopped upon seeing the look on her face. One eyebrow was arched, her jaw was clenched, and her lips were pressed into a hard line. He leaned down, catching her eye. "Hey, you okay?"
Her eyes widened and the look was gone, replaced by a closed mouth smile. "Of course. Thank you." But then what he thought would be a sip ended up with her draining the whole thing, her eyes watering from the bubbles, he assumed. "Wow, that's very good. Can I have some more?"
Chuck nodded, hurriedly grabbing the bottle and swinging it around to pour her more. "Was-Was it that phone call? Is everything okay?"
"Thanks," she breathed, this time sipping it appropriately. And then she cleared her throat. "I'm okay. Everything's fine."
He knew he was taking a risk. But he did it anyway. He looked her right in her eye and he said, "It really doesn't seem that way, Sarah. You're giving off very not okay vibes. And you don't have to tell me any of the details. I'm not expecting that. But you don't have to pretend with me."
He'd surprised her. He could see it on her face. And she didn't seem to know how to respond.
"I've had a pretty good night so far, but if something happened, and-and you have to go take care of somethin', or if it's business you want to deal with, I dunno, alone, just tell me. I can get outta here. But don't pretend for the rest of tonight when you're…not feeling it." He winced. "Sorry if that came off…a certain way. I didn't mean for it to, I just want you to feel like you don't have to…act…here."
She took a deep breath and let it out, melting against the counter, her shoulders slumping. "Jesus, you're something else, Chuck Bartowski." She let out a puff of air and shook her head.
"Sorry. I—"
"Don't apologize for calling me out on my shit," she cut him off, waving a hand through the air. She sipped her champagne and reached behind her to set it on the counter, pushing her hand through her hair. "You're right. I'm sorry I tried to play it off. I'm…not sure I'm gonna be all here tonight."
"The phone call?"
She paused, nibbling her lip. "Yeah. The call."
"I won't be offended if you want to be alone. We can try again some other night." But he wondered if he was sort of a hypocrite for pretending he wasn't disappointed by these developments when he very much was.
She groaned, rolling her head back, shutting her eyes. "This was such a good night before that stupid phone call. I'm sorry, Chuck. Let's…Let's just drink some champagne and slow down. I don't want you to rush out of here because I'm in a mood now. That's not what I want." She stood up straight and opened her eyes, shaking her head.
Then she thrusted her champagne towards him. "Come on. Drink."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah."
He smiled warmly at her, taking up his own glass and sipping it. "Really good champagne."
"Thanks." She grinned. It didn't reach her eyes. She was really trying here, he knew. And he also felt that she didn't want him to leave. But what had happened in that phone call? She just seemed sort of gutted. Upset. Disappointed, maybe? Was it bad news about a potential job? He figured that was probably it. Something she was excited about. She was probably right on the cusp of getting some role she'd really wanted, something she'd auditioned for numerous times, and her agent called to tell her she hadn't gotten it. The phone call had snatched it out from her hands.
But then Sarah reached out and grabbed his hand, and she looked down at their hands clasped between them. "Thank you, Chuck. For giving it to me straight. Not letting me play games. I…wasn't expecting it. People usually let me get away with stuff like that." She giggled lightly, a self-deprecating look on her face, and she still hadn't looked up at him.
"I…guess I just figured…" He cleared his throat as she finally raised her eyes up to his. "Why make you waste all that effort, acting like everything's fine when you don't…well, when everything's not fine. Something's clearly bothering you. And I don't need to know what it is. It's none of my business. But I don't want you to feel like you have to pretend. Not with me."
She smiled slowly and looked away from him shyly. "Still the guy I spilled my guts to out on the cliff overlooking the ocean, huh?"
He bent his knees and groaned. "Oh man, that feels like ages ago now, doesn't it?" She nodded. "But yeah. I guess I am still that guy."
Sarah sighed, biting her lip. She sagged against him, her chest against his. "I guess I don't really want to talk about it, though. If…that's okay."
"Sarah, of course it is. That's what I'm saying."
She nodded again. "Okay. Thank you." She slipped her hand around his waist, dragging it down to his hip where he squeezed. "Do you think you'd be up for looking up at the LA night sky with a CLEARLY moody supermodel?"
"Oh, hell yes," he mumbled, grinning at her.
Sarah's smile looked to reach her eyes this time, just barely. And he followed her back up to the roof.
+ —
Sarah saw it a split second before he did. The light streaking across the sky, dim because of the city's light pollution, but still visible. She pointed up with an "Oh my God!"
And literally a moment later, he made a startled "Mmm!" pointing as well. "You see that? Was that a shooting star?"
"I saw it, yeah. It was a fallen star." She turned a grin on him where he sat in the chair next to hers. He was still looking up into the sky, smiling in awe. He looked so much younger suddenly, the night breeze ruffling his dark curls, his eyes lit in wonder, his mouth gaping.
But then he clicked his mouth shut and lowered his gaze to her. If he'd noticed her staring, he didn't show it. "A shooting star," he corrected primly.
"What's the difference?" she asked, chuckling at him.
"Shooting star is so much more positive than fallen star."
She laughed and shook her head. "Does anyone ever tell you how annoying you are with your consistent positivity?" She reached out and grabbed his arm, squeezing and smiling softly. "I'm teasing. It's not annoying," she said quickly. "It's nice. For a change." She sighed, tilting her head back to look in the sky again, sweeping her gaze across the blanket of stars. "It's really easy to be around you."
He smiled and lowered his chin to his chest, tugging at the suit jacket he wore almost bashfully. It was very cute. "I, um, thanks. For saying that. I mean, I'm glad. I don't really want you to have a hard time while you're…around me." He shook his head. "I don't know what I'm saying, ignore me."
Sarah giggled and finished the last bit of her champagne. "No, seriously. You're just here letting me be…the way I feel right now. I'm not in my greatest date form, at the moment. Definitely not in the same mood I was in when we started the night. And you're…pretty much okay with that. At least, you're making me feel like you are, which is still just as kind."
She gingerly set her glass down on the side table between them and crossed her arms, leaning back further into her chair and turning her head to smile at him.
The look on Chuck's face was thoughtful as he took a moment. And then his head bobbed just once as he crossed his own arms at his chest. "I'm more than okay with it, Sarah." She raised her eyebrows and he smiled at her. "However you feel at any given moment, whatever place you're in, erm, mood-wise, emotionally, mentally…I want you to feel like you can be that…around me."
Sarah was quiet for a long time, just looking at him, and it took him squirming a bit, picking a piece of lint off of his pants, for her to realize just how long. "I'll take that under advisement," she said softly, an ache in her chest. But this ache felt different from the one that phone call with Graham had put there. There was a warmth too.
"Good," he said with a nod. And then he glanced between them at the empty flutes, and the empty bottle of champagne. She watched a tentative look alight in his eyes and then he cleared his throat, sitting up a bit and pushing a hand through his hair as if to try to control it. It didn't work and she was glad. "Well, the champagne is gone."
"That it is…" He rubbed his hands up and down the thighs of his pants and cleared his throat. She saw what he was building up to, so she did it for him. "The champagne is gone so you're going home?" She tried a teasing tone but she wasn't sure it came off.
He chuckled. "Yeah, no more champagne, no more Chuck." Shaking his head, he rose to his feet and smacked at the ass of his pants, before stretching his arms up, arching his back. "No, I just feel like maybe you can use your…space now. You've humored me enough tonight. You've gotta handle stuff now, I'm sure."
Sarah pursed her lips and stood up as well, shrugging. "I wasn't really humoring you, Chuck," she said quietly.
"No, I-I know. I was just…being a dork." He ducked his head.
"Thanks for…" She rolled her eyes at herself and just grabbed the empty bottle and glasses. "Thanks for coming over tonight. I'm…sorry I kind of blew it after dinner. With the phone call."
He furrowed his brow and shook his head. "You didn't do any such thing. Here, gimme the bottle."
"I got it."
"Nah, lemme." She let him take it, giving him a look even as she smirked. But then he tipped it and put it to his lips, drinking whatever drops were even left inside and she cracked up. He lowered it again with an "ahhhh!" and hummed. "Just wanna make sure none of it goes to waste."
They quietly went back into the house and Sarah felt the after effects of that phone call creeping up on her again now that her brain knew Chuck—the guy who'd provided some good conversation, some comfortably quiet star gazing, and just company in general—was going home and leaving her here alone.
She couldn't even have a drink with Casey because he was probably already on his way to wherever classified place he was supposed to be going. A mission, all on his own. Instead of the missions the two of them usually went on together. She was stupidly bereft about it now.
And Sarah wasn't sure she wanted Chuck to leave. But she knew if he didn't, something would happen between them, one of them would lean in for a kiss, and it would inevitably lead down the same path they'd traveled down a few times now. And she didn't feel like she was in the right place for that tonight. Before that phone call, she'd had every intention of ending the night by christening her bed upstairs with the tech CEO.
It felt unfair to him to let things escalate now. She wouldn't be able to give him what he deserved, and she'd feel like crap about it. He deserved all of her.
He deserved more than her.
That was the real truth.
Chuck leaned down to kiss her on the corner of her mouth at the front door, his hand tenderly stroking over her waist. "Thanks for dinner, Sarah." He smiled. "It was amazing."
"I'm sorry for…kind of messing this date up with my…job drama," she said lamely, wincing. "Next date, I promise I'm keeping the crap out of it."
"Hey, my job requires a lot from me too. If anyone understands getting a rough phone call from work in the middle of a date, it's me," he said kindly. Then he wrinkled up his face cutely and shook his head. "Well, wait. Not the date part. The job part definitely. But replace date with…playing video games or something," he chuckled.
"Oh shut up. You go on dates."
"Nooot a lot of them." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "But I'd like to go on more."
Sarah couldn't help but giggle. "Wow. Subtle there, nerd."
"You pickin' up what I'm throwin' out?" He mimicked a baseball pitch.
"Somehow, I can't resist." She put her hand on his chest, twisted her hand in his shirt, and pulled him in for a kiss.
He stepped back after a few seconds, grinning. "Can I call you again?"
"Yes. Definitely. Especially after I messed up tonight…"
"Will you stop saying you messed up the date? You didn't. Trust me. It's all good. We're all good." He tilted his head. "Right?"
Sarah bit her lip and smiled at him again. "Right."
"You have a good night, Sarah. Just think about that SHOOTING star if that phone call gets you down," he said, his emphasis making her snort. "Those are good luck."
"ARE they? Well…" She smiled at him as he stepped out onto the porch.
"Good night, Sarah Walker."
"Night."
He stuck his hands in his pockets and trotted down the first few steps. He'd been so sweet and understanding, he'd called her out for trying to act like the call with Graham hadn't fucked up her mood, and he'd done it so gently and sincerely. He made her feel so many different things and here she was, standing here like an idiot, letting him go down to his car in her garage to leave and she hadn't…
"Chuck! Hey, Chuck, wait…"
His dark brown curls popped back up from where he'd disappeared down the stairs. "Yeah?"
She met him halfway as he reached the top of the stairs. She hugged him tightly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing. "Thank you," she breathed. "For tonight. All of it. I won't say I'm sorry again, I promise, but you are…wonderful," she breathed, turning her face into his neck.
He hugged her back with his arms around her waist, leaning down to wrap her up in how much he cared about her. She felt it, and she let herself take it for now. She hoped he knew how much he'd done for her, just by forcing her to be honest, letting her drop the act and be herself.
She finally let him go. But as he pulled back again, she cupped his face and kissed him once more. This one was longer, more intimate, slower. She tasted the champagne they'd just finished together sitting on her rooftop patio.
The kiss eventually ended and he practically floated down the stairs, ducking into her garage. She stayed there until she saw his car pull out and turn into the street. She wasn't sure if he was looking, if he could see her or not even, but she lifted a hand to wave anyway, watching from above as he drove around the bend and out of sight.
Sarah Walker didn't sleep that night, tossing and turning, that useless feeling overcoming her again, wondering when she'd lost the respect of the CIA, of Director Graham, as his wildcard enforcer, as the one who he went to for the hardest missions, the most dangerous jobs. How had she lost their confidence?
+ —
"I don't know what to do about it, Morgan. I don't know what to do about her."
"It's okay, bro. We'll figure it out together."
"I can't figure out where her head is at."
"Women are complicated, man."
Chuck let out a heavy sigh and gestured to his massive desktop screen. "We can't just put out one of the baddest ass characters in video game app history and she has, like, no motivations. That's boring, dude. I can't have a boring main character, but especially not a woman. I refuse to be the guy that puts out a 2D female protagonist."
"Yeah. Have you gone to the writers?" He shrugged. "I mean, the art department's got it down. She's hot."
"She is. But that's not what I'm focusing on right now, Morgan." He ruffled his curls in frustration. "I don't know. I've been here for too long. I've tasked our head writer with it, so we'll see if she and her team can beef it up."
"You need to get home and give your brain a break, Chuck. Let us handle it. Man, you were supposed to take this nice long weekend and I heard through the grapevine you were texting and calling and emailing everyone, still working."
Honestly, his head hadn't been on right since the date with Sarah had ended early the other night. He was worried about her, about whatever was in that phone call that had disappointed her that much. And he was worried because her responses to his texts since then were short. It was hard to read tone or intent in texts but it was driving him crazy.
"Yeah," he muttered. "This game is stressing me out. I couldn't really enjoy the weekend. Think I'm going home for now though. Look at what's selling out there, huh, bud? Shoot some of that to Clarice, see if she and her writer team can glean anything from it."
"On it." Morgan thumped him on the back, then stopped and gave him a look, his hand staying on him. "Chuck, you sure Galeeda is the only thing bothering you?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, of course. This game is gonna be a big deal. We're putting it out on our new console. It's going to be the cornerstone of the Nerdstation 1.0, Morgan. It's going to be…like…our Super Mario Bros. Our Sonic."
Morgan nodded. "Of course. Of course, it's a big deal. But go easy on yourself, Chuck. You're working your ass off. We need you in good shape. Our fearless leader."
Chuck snorted at the salute Morgan gave him as he shoved his laptop and prototype blueprints and sketches and scripts in his messenger bag. "See ya soon, Morgs."
"If you want to slaughter some newbs later, text me."
"Will do, man."
He ducked out of his office alongside his friend, locking it behind Morgan, hugging his best friend, watching the shorter man leave through the rows of offices and cubicles.
Sighing, Chuck waved as he made eye contact with a few of his admin team, before making his way to the elevator. When he got inside, completely alone, he let himself lean back against the railing and he groaned.
He took his phone out, then put it away again.
His stress about his newly minted NTI game console and the first game they'd be releasing for it was real. Things just didn't feel like they were clicking with the storyline and the characters' motives.
The art looked great, the art team was knocking it out of the park. But his vision was trapped in the weeds, and he couldn't untangle it and verbalize it properly to his writing team. They couldn't get good storyboards down because he couldn't figure out his own damn game concept.
And he knew part of it was that his head was somewhere else. That wasn't good.
He wondered if even though she'd kept him from leaving right after the phone call, his confronting of her had actually upset her and she was angry with him. He probably should've kept his mouth shut, but the idea of her pretending with him for the rest of the night just didn't sit in his gut right. If she was upset, he wanted her to feel comfortable enough to let him see it. They didn't know each other for that long, he knew, but… damn it, he didn't want to be the type of guy she'd act one way with while feeling another way.
By the time he wandered into his downtown condo, he wondered if he shouldn't pack a few things in a bag and head to his beachfront property near Oceanside.
He loved jogging down there. He could go for a long jog along the water, tire himself out, get rid of all of the extra stuff plaguing his brain, and focus on Galeeda. He needed to get his head on fucking straight or this would flop and he'd be the John DeLorean of the gaming industry.
Chuck took a quick shower, drowning his head in the jet stream, before he warmed up a frozen dinner and went back to the drawing board, setting everything up on his table outside of the kitchen, the biggest flat surface in his condo besides the floor itself, and got to work.
It was after eleven when there was a knock on his condo door.
Groaning, he wondered how many times in his life he'd not actively confirmed a hang-out plan with Morgan but the guy showed up anyway, as though they had cemented plans. And at this hour?
"Really, Morgan?" he asked under his breath, heading for the door. "I didn't say 'Yes, let's slaughter some newbs', did I?" He raised his voice through the door. "I don't remember saying that. Pretty sure I said I'd let you know if I wanted to slaughter some ne—"
The words died on his lips as he opened the door.
"You're…not Morgan."
His heart raced wildly against his chest.
The woman standing in the hallway glanced left then right. "Um, no. I'm not. Can-Can I come—"
"Oh God!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her in. "Of course you don't want to just be standing out in the hallway. I'm so sorry. Come in." He shut the door, taking Sarah Walker in, long legs covered in yoga pants, wearing a hoodie that was a little too big for her, the hood pulled over her hair.
She pushed it back, revealing her blond locks tied up in a messy bun behind her head. "So, um, who are we…slaughtering?"
Chuck winced as she gave him a curious and amused look. "Video game. He—I was at the office earlier and he told me to let him know if I feel like…slaughtering…some… You know what? That doesn't matter. At all. You-You're here. Hi."
"Hi."
And then she closed the distance between them, cupping his face and kissing him hard. Chuck didn't waste any time, he wrapped her up in his arms and tugged her front into his, kissing her back.
She didn't have to say anything, and neither did he. Because when she broke the kiss, she grabbed the hem of her hoodie and yanked it up her torso, pulling it up past her head and shrugging it off, tossing it to the floor behind her before kissing him again.
So this was happening…
And this wasn't great timing. He was just starting to get into the flow of things with his ideas. But fuck that.
Fuck that.
Sarah Walker was going for his shirt, tugging it up his body. He held his arms up over his head as she broke the kiss, making it easier for her to take it off of him. He took it from her and threw it towards her sweatshirt, making her giggle against his lips as she kissed him again.
He went straight for the waistband of her pants then, but before he could do anything else besides feel the soft, smooth skin of her hips above the waistline, something that sent a shock through him in the best way, Sarah grabbed his hand and zoomed through the living room, past the kitchen, and into the hallway.
Chuck had to trot to keep up with her, his eyes wide. "Oh, we're running? We're running. Okay," he muttered.
She laughed over her shoulder, pushing the door of his bedroom open and swinging him into the room in front of her, making him stagger a bit.
He'd kept the light on in the bathroom, and it flooded out into his bedroom that was otherwise doused in the blue light from the moon outside of his window. It would only take a moment for him to turn on the lamp next to his bed. But he didn't want to.
Because as she followed him into his bedroom, she grabbed the white V-neck she was wearing and pulled it up over her head, off. And just as quickly, she reached behind her back. There was a soft click in the silence of the room, and the bra she wore loosened. She shrugged it off, dropping it to the floor at her feet, moving closer to him.
Chuck swallowed hard, shaking his head in awe, his brown gaze lifting from her bare breasts to her face, looking right into her eyes. She walked right through the strip of yellow light streaming out of his bathroom.
She was like a goddess.
But then she was all too real. Tucking her fingers in the waistband of her yoga pants, slowly pushing them down her long legs, having to crouch a bit to get them off, stepping out of them, in nothing but her panties.
A wave of heat assailed Chuck Bartowski as she stepped in against his chest, her breasts pressing against him. His eyelids fluttered.
As if he'd been under a spell, Chuck shook himself and pushed his hands between them, undoing his pants with shaky fingers, shoving at them. He struggled to kick them off, making her laugh.
She grabbed his shoulders, squeezing in a way that made him stop struggling, and she pulled him as he glanced up her body, his lips grazing her abdomen as he angled his head back. And she gently guided him to sit on the edge of the bed.
He could feel the confused look on his face. She still didn't speak. She just bit her lip and leaned down over him, kissing him as she stooped in front of him, her fingers slipping into his hair, kissing him even harder. He grumbled happily, wondering how even 15 minutes earlier he'd been drowning in a fantastical world of robots and aliens and humans living in relative harmony, and now Sarah Walker—supermodel and actress, one of the most famous people in the world, apparently, but mostly a woman who was filled with the same passions, fears, worries as everyone else—was bracing her hands against the mattress on either side of his hips and she was dotting kisses down his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, collarbone, chest…
Chuck whimpered when her hand landed on him over his boxers, cupping him, rubbing the heel of her palm against him. And he laid back against his bed, shutting his eyes.
That was why he hadn't expected Sarah to drape her body over his, her fingers scorching a pattern up his side, drifting in and out of the grooves of his ribcage, and… Chuck's eyes snapped open as her lips closed around one of his nipples. "Sarah…" he breathed, his face twisting in pleasure as he stared up at his ceiling. She switched to the other nipple, and her tongue draped over it, flicking it, before her lips surrounded it and she gave a teasing suck. At the same time, she squeezed him in her palm, making his hips jerk into her hand.
Oh God.
Her hand was gone then and he nearly whimpered at its loss, but then Sarah shifted so that she was draped directly on top of him, her breasts smashed against his chest. She cupped his face and leaned down to bless him with an open mouthed kiss.
Chuck was acutely aware of where her weight pressed down the most. There were only two thin layers of cotton between them meeting and he wanted it so badly he might explode from it.
Her fingers danced at the waistband of his boxers, and she gave his hip a sudden squeeze, sending chills through his body, making him shiver with want. How was this real? How was she real?
She was real.
She was so real.
And she was here. This was what he'd been hoping for that night at her house. But life had interrupted, as it tends to do.
No, this wasn't what he'd been hoping for. This was better than anything he could possibly dream up.
And as if she could hear his thoughts, Sarah gave a very slow, excruciatingly delicious thrust, rubbing herself against his hardening member. She gasped into his mouth and did it again, making him groan, his eyelids fluttering shut.
Chuck suddenly remembered he had hands, and he draped them over the small of her back, arching himself into her. She was making him feel totally nuts.
Sarah broke the kiss, and he opened his eyes to see a grin on her face, but then she moved lower down his body, gifting him with kisses all over his torso, his shoulders, his arms. She found a spot on the inside of his elbow that made him whimper and she giggled, turning her attentions to the same spot on the other side.
He had no idea that was so sensitive.
It was so weird. The inside of his—
Oh God.
Sarah was tasting his abdomen, lips and tongue all over him, before he felt her tongue dip into his bellybutton. His brain was fried. He was incapable of anything but just enjoying.
And then her fingers tucked under the waist of his boxers and she tugged.
Chuck's eyes snapped open again and he pushed himself up to sit at an angle, his jaw nearly falling into his lap as he arched off the bed and let her carefully pull his boxers down past his knees.
"Sar—Sarah—oh…OH."
His eyes rolled to the back of his head as her fingers delicately picked him up, and just like that, her lips surrounded him. He breathed in, out, in, out… And then he realized how absolutely fucking stupid he was for focusing on his breathing instead of what she was doing to him.
Chuck gasped, and it became a loud whimper as her tongue did something so sudden and fantastic that a shock of pleasure stabbed through him like a damn broadsword.
What the hell was happening in his head?
He let out an awe filled laugh which became an embarrassingly loud groan when she somehow grinned around him and he felt her teeth graze his incredibly sensitive cock.
How long was she down there, he didn't know. But his head eventually rolled back, and he forced himself to push everything besides this out of his mind. He focused on her lips, her tongue, her teeth, the way her fist applied pressure as she reared back onto her haunches and looked up at him through her eyelashes, taking some deep breaths before she bit her lip and dove right back in.
And he realized how close he was getting almost too late. Waking up out of a lust filled stupor, he put a gentle hand on her head, pushing her hair from her face. And her eyes lifted to meet his again as she pulled back, letting him slip from between her lips.
"I'm close," he rushed out in a whisper. "And…I-I want…" He wasn't sure if he should be telling her what he wanted. And he could feel himself blushing.
She smiled quietly and nodded, climbing to her feet in front of him. He reached for her as she stood there, tenderly guiding her closer so that he could press kisses to her stomach, tasting her the way she'd tasted him. Her fingers combed through his hair.
And when her fist closed around his curls, he gasped, his fingers curling, tucking into the waistband of her panties. And she arched herself into him as he guided them down her legs.
While she was down there getting those off, she tugged at his pants and boxers, leaving him just as bare as she was.
He meant to crawl onto the bed properly, but she stopped him, her hand stroking along his cheek, and her thumb stopped over his lips. Before she shifted her hand so that her pointer and middle fingers rested gently on his mouth, a feather's touch.
Chuck opened his mouth and took her fingers between his lips, flicking them with his tongue. She tilted her head, a tentative smile on her face, her blue eyes sparkling. He let her fingers go and tilted his own head, narrowing his eyes. "Was—Was that weird? It felt like it'd be hot and then I did it and now I'm worried it was a little…uh, weird."
Sarah gave him a nasally giggle and shook her head, her eyes really sparkling now. "It was…a little weird. But what's weirder is I liked it."
"Oh…" And then she crawled onto the bed, her knees on either side of him, straddling him. "Oh." She lowered her weight, and with the slightest guidance of her fingers on him, she took him in, sitting heavily in his lap. "Ohhhhhhh."
She threw her head back with a laugh, rounding his shoulders with her arms. Chuck hugged her close, burying his face in her neck, kissing her there, letting the sensation of just being inside of her settle in him. This alone was worth the whole world. The universe even. Fuck it, all the universes, everything that existed. Wherever and however it existed.
"I cannot get enough of you," she breathed against his ear, her fingers digging into his upper back with a need that he felt in every part of him. He wondered if that was awe or surprise, maybe even shock in her voice. A soft, questioning feeling to her tone. Almost like she was talking to herself mostly.
Chuck wasn't sure how to respond. He couldn't find his voice.
And he didn't have to.
Because she began to thrust, riding him slowly at first. They clung to one another, their fronts pressed tight together. He kissed her right under her ear, shivering with need in her embrace.
"I need you. I need you so bad, Sarah," he breathed, hearing the desperation in his breathy voice. And he felt himself freeze a little under her, aware of just how easily he'd lost his ability to filter.
+ —
Sarah felt him still under her, his arms around her back tensing. She'd heard him loud and clear, his voice right there against her ear. And she'd heard every bit of the tone dripping from it.
The way he let her know how much he needed her, letting her feel and hear his desperation for her touch, her body, was completely new and…strange. But strange in the best way. HE was strange in the best way.
She didn't want him to think he'd fucked up, that he'd made her uncomfortable, as surprised as she was by how sincere and real he was, after the practical clown car of machismo-drenched guys she'd allowed herself to play around with and date before. So she acted fast, nuzzling his nose with hers, putting her hands on either side of his face.
She rolled her hips, making him groan, even as he had a permanent wince on his face. Before he could apologize or try to walk it back, she pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed his cheek, before nuzzling his nose again. "I'm right here," she said breathlessly.
His eyes snapped open, surprise in them in the low light of his bedroom, a strip of moonlight illuminating his golden orbs in blue rays.
She hoped he understood what she was trying to say. She was here, whatever he needed from her, she was right here with him. Ready.
There was a slight smile on his face, awe in his eyes, and then his mouth covered hers so quickly, a hunger in the way he kissed her, and his arms weaved around the small of her back, giving her a quick tug in his lap.
Sarah whimpered, reaching back to slap her hand down on his knee behind her. And as his mouth began to wander down her jaw, down her neck, Sarah started to ride him in earnest, her hand that wasn't clutching onto his knee grabbing his shoulder for dear life.
Her head fell back as she moaned, and she shut her eyes tightly, feeling that telltale sensation in her lower stomach, between her legs. She moved faster in his lap, reaching for the finish she felt was coming.
"Oh, yes!" she gasped.
Chuck let go of her to place one large hand right in the middle of her torso, pushing her back at more of an angle, his other hand cradling her between her shoulder blades, keeping her safe as she continued to thrust, even as the muscles in her thighs ached in this position.
And then he hunched forward to cover one of her nipples with the heat of his tongue, his lips wrapping around it. Pleasure rocketed through her as she yelped his name out from between gritted teeth. "Chuck!"
His tongue flicked her nipple and he pulled back just enough to whimper, "Oh, Sarah."
Chuck's grip on Sarah tightened, and she felt him start to thrust up against her, his movements quick and hard.
Oh, she was close. She was so close. "Yes!" She clung to him, holding on so tightly her fingers were at risk of going numb. She just needed this so badly. "Chuck! Hnnnng!"
She sat up and grappled at whatever part of him she could hold onto as an orgasm crashed through her, her fingers twisting in his hair at the back of his head, the other hand squeezing the life out of his bicep as she cried out, opening her mouth wide, her teeth grazing his temple. She shook against him, squeezing him everywhere, letting out gasping breaths as the pleasure refused to relent.
And when the most intense phase of it ebbed a little, she let out a rough breath and slumped against him, laying her cheek on his shoulder and just letting him cradle her. He was really good at making her feel wanted, needed, and at the same time, she felt completely safe just giving herself in to him.
She trusted him.
She trusted him.
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