As first dates go, it was pretty much perfect. Not that Katniss had a whole lot to compare it to. Grabbing lukewarm vending machine coffee together after a quickie in the on-call room wasn't exactly a romantic date.
He'd let the subject of her family drop yet again, understanding without her saying so that she couldn't talk about them. Katniss was so grateful for that, for the undemanding way he'd simply redirected conversation. Peeta took what little she could offer and didn't harass her for more.
She liked that. A lot.
Good food and easy conversation flowed, and even though she was tired and could see he was exhausted, they closed out the restaurant. Peeta insisted on paying, she told him she'd get the next one before she could catch herself.
She couldn't regret the promise though. Not when it made him smile like that.
He drove her home, both of them quiet, introspective. Yet an energy crackled between them. She was aware of his every breath, his every subtle shift. Could feel the adrenaline pulsing off him, throbbing in time with her own racing heart.
He walked her to the door, then waited. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to invite him in.
But she was afraid of the consequences.
It'd been easier when he was just her hot neighbour, just the backyard beefcake with the pornstar abs.
He still had porn-worthy abs. But he was also part of her temporary social circle. And worse, he was a guy whose company she really liked. That threw up a whole slew of complications. And she didn't have room in her life for new complications.
But she wanted him. Badly.
She slid her key into the lock, then paused, torn.
As if he could read her indecision, Peeta moved up close behind her, scattering her senses with his warmth. "Invite me in, Katniss," he drawled, his breath hot against the shell of her ear.
"It's late," she breathed, and it was. They both had to be up in only a few hours. Asking him in would be irresponsible.
"You know neither of us is going to sleep," he murmured, the words a caress against her sensitised skin. "We might as well be awake together."
He was chipping away her defenses with his sexy voice and his flirty words. She wanted to taste that mouth. She wanted to hear what he'd pant in her ear when he was deep inside her.
"Peeta." She meant it as a protest but it sounded like a plea.
"I know you're attracted to me," he said lowly, crowding her against the door, muddling her thoughts with his presence, his scent. "Why do you keep fighting it?"
"Pretty sure of yourself, Hotshot," she smirked, turning to look up into his eyes, navy and electric in the dim.
"Not sure enough," he laughed. "Can't say I've ever worked this hard for a woman." It was said in a teasing fashion, but Katniss could hear the underlying truth, the hint of uncertainty.
He was in turns shy and outrageously flirty, and something about that combination fascinated Katniss. It was dangerous. She was physically attracted to him, sure, but this went deeper than that. She liked him, liked his voice and his ridiculous pick up lines. Liked his kindness and his selflessness. She wanted to know him, to dig deep beneath his cocky exterior.
It was terrifying.
Sex was safer. Sweaty, satisfying fun, no emotions. But for the first time maybe ever, she wasn't convinced of her ability to keep what was between them purely physical.
Peeta reached out to tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb trailing down her jaw in a gentle caress. Waiting.
She opened the door and pulled him inside.
There was no need for subtlety or pretext, no use pretending there was any doubt as to where they'd end up. It had been an inevitability, she thought, right from the first time she'd laid eyes on him.
She took his hand and led him through the darkened living room and up the stairs.
In the quiet dim of her bedroom, Peeta seemed larger than life, those broad shoulders a sexy shadow, trim hips a delicious silhouette. She reached for the placket of the soft blue button down he'd worn to take her out, had slipped two buttons free before Peeta grabbed her wrist, halting her action. "I need to see you," he said softly.
He fumbled for the bedside light, and as Katniss squinted in the sudden brightness, Peeta smirked. "Been fantasizing about having you for weeks," he drawled. "I want to see what I've been dreaming about."
His hands, long-fingered and so very warm, slid under her blouse to rest on the bare skin of her waist as he pulled her closer, pressed snugly against him. And oh god, he was hard everywhere, his chest a brick wall, his abs like corrugated steel. And lower…
Katniss draped her hands over his shoulders and looked up expectantly. He'd been driving her crazy for weeks, she had him in her bedroom and he still hadn't even kissed her yet. "What are you waiting for, Hotshot?" she challenged.
His lips twitched at the nickname. Then he leaned in.
She knew there was chemistry, knew the attraction was strong and two-sided. But she was utterly unprepared for the explosion of passion between them. They met in a tangle of tongues and teeth, lips bruising and lungs burning. She barely had time to register what was happening before he'd lowered her to the bed and his hard body was stretched over hers.
They fit so well together, she thought. Like he was made for her.
Before she could dwell on that idea, he pulled back, kneeling between her thighs. His big hands slid her silky blouse upward, exposing her toned torso, then the soft swells of her breasts, encased in her favourite bra, the one she'd changed into after her shift hoping he'd like it.
He didn't disappoint.
"Christ, Katniss," he cursed. "You are so bloody beautiful." He seemed stunned into stillness as she wriggled her blouse the rest of the way off, only his chest moving with each deep, shuddering breath.
"Take yours off too," she pleaded, pulling his shirt from his waistband. Peeta reached up and pulled it over his head with that one-handed manoeuvre all men seemed capable of. His golden torso, the one she'd admired from afar so often, gleamed in the low lamp light. He was a marvel of anatomy, utterly perfect, a sculpture brought to life. She reached out to stroke trembling fingers over each iron ridge of his abdomen, enjoying the way the muscles flexed at her touch.
"If you don't stop looking at me like that," Peeta growled, "this is going to be over way too fast." Katniss laughed, but her mirth was cut short when he roughly freed one breast from its lacy confines and lowered his head to feast.
Katniss cried out, arching into his hot mouth, wordlessly begging for more. And he provided, teasing her nipple to aching stiffness, then sucking hard while she tugged his hair and writhed. She was so engrossed in what his mouth was doing, she didn't even notice him unbuttoning her slacks. Until his big hand slid into her panties, cupping her roughly. "Fuck," he groaned against her breast. "You're so wet for me."
She was. Wet and throbbing and aching. She couldn't even be offended by him mentioning it since it was clear her excitement was fuelling his own.
She tried to squirm out of her pants but only managed to free one leg before those long fingers, two of them she thought, were thrusting into her. And God did they feel good. She could do nothing but surrender to the ecstasy of those fingers driving into her, his thumb teasing her clit. She rode his hand helplessly as he panted against her skin. "Just like that," he gasped between hard sucks. "Need to feel you come."
He managed to unhook her bra with his free hand and send it flying without stopping his attentions. "Impressive," she gasped.
"I'm highly motivated," he grunted, and she was tempted to laugh again.
This was new, she thought, the fun, the laughter. The sheer joy.
New and reckless.
She attempted to seize control of the situation, reaching between them and stroking him roughly through the canvas of his khakis. His fingers froze and he hissed against her breast, a tremor wracking his big body. Her other hand slid down to undo his zipper, pushing his pants down his hips, freeing his length. Her eyes widened as she palmed him, smooth and hot and so hard.
And bigger than she was expecting. Her inner muscles clenched around Peeta's fingers in anticipation, and he moaned.
Katniss understood then, why he'd wanted the lights on. She was desperate to see him. She used his stupor to shove him over onto his back, straddling his thighs.
He was utterly beautiful, splayed under her, eyes hooded, cheeks flushed with arousal. His cock seemed even larger laying across his stomach than it had against her hand. She licked her lips, and watched as his shaft twitched, a pearly bead of precome already sliding down his crown.
"Fuck, yes," he groaned, bringing his fingers, glistening with her arousal, to his mouth. "So sweet," he murmured, his voice like liquid lust. "You gonna ride me, love? You gonna take what's yours?"
This was what she needed. His dirty words and his raw hunger, the attraction that roared between them.
She was so grateful for the strip of condoms she'd grabbed from the hospital's sexual health clinic and stored in the bedside table, just in case.
Just in case of this, she admitted to herself. They were always going to be for him.
Peeta smirked knowingly as she handed him a purple foil packet, emblazoned with Family Planning NSW and the hospital's crest. But his smug expression faltered when she leaned forward and took the head of his cock in her mouth.
He fell back against the pillows, his pained moan like music. "Fuck," he gasped, and she grinned. She sucked him with quick, deep strokes, loving how he twitched and swelled against her tongue. "You've gotta stop, love," he said, catching her chin. "I need to be inside you."
Katniss didn't argue semantics, releasing him with a wet pop that left him shuddering. She liked seeing him like that, with his control in tatters, desperate for her. It was sexy, and empowering. She took the condom from him, and rolled it down his impressive anatomy while he watched, his expression awestruck.
That gave her pause. She didn't want there to be any misunderstanding here. Lust and fun and mutual satisfaction, that's what they could share.
Nothing more.
"This is all I can give you," she said quietly, struggling to hold his gaze.
"I know," he said, though his expression didn't change. He reached out to squeeze her knee, reassuring. "I'll take what I can get." Then he smirked. "And I'll give you all you can take."
She gave in to the laugh that bubbled up. Then she notched that thick cock into place and sank down slowly, smoothly.
Katniss hissed, a little edge of pain in the midst of all that pleasure. He was big, and it had been awhile.
Peeta was staring, absolutely unblinking, at where they were joined, watching her body engulf him. But she was watching him. His chest heaved, his blue eyes glowed with pleasure. He was beautiful.
When she was seated fully, filled by him completely, he moaned low and deep, clutching her waist, holding her steady. But she was impatient and a little bit greedy. She dragged her short nails down his chest and began to ride.
Beneath her, Peeta groaned and swore, his hands roaming restlessly, like he couldn't decide what to touch first. He was clearly a boob man though. "Love these," he gasped, squeezing each bouncing mound. "Loved them since the first time I saw you."
Katniss was silent, body infused with pleasure. So much pleasure. He fit her so well. Like he was made to touch her, to fill her.
Peeta reached up and pulled the elastic from the end of her braid, unweaving the plait until it fell in a dark curtain around her. Carding his fingers through the rumpled waves with a sigh. "So beautiful," he murmured. His gaze was soft, reverent.
It was too much.
She leaned in to kiss him hard. To erase that softness, silence that reverence. He responded in kind, wrapping a big hand around her nape and drilling his hips up while his tongue plundered her mouth. Filling her over and over as she whimpered against his lips. Lust was good, blind, carnal lust.
So good.
She came with a mindless wail of pleasure, clinging to Peeta as her body pulsed and shook. He followed, groaning, a half dozen hard thrusts then he stilled, holding her body flush against his own as he filled the condom.
Katniss was completely drained, sprawled across Peeta's chest, her heart thundering against his. "Wow," Peeta gasped, and Katniss laughed tiredly. Wow indeed.
She was drifting when he sighed, pressed a kiss to her temple, and slipped out of bed. Then she could hear water running in the bathroom. She waited for his quiet departure, a few words, maybe even a parting kiss. Instead, he flipped off the light, climbed into bed behind her and pulled her back against his chest.
She was so comfortable with his big body pressed against hers, so warm and content. It would be so easy to just give in and fall asleep. But that wasn't her style. She didn't have sleepovers, not even with hot firefighters who'd rocked her world.
She needed to send him home, so he didn't get the wrong idea.
"Shhh," Peeta said, his arms tightening. "I can hear your brain spinning. Go to sleep, Katniss. It doesn't have to mean anything."
But she was so afraid that it did.