All Bets Are Off - Chapter Eleven
Han Solo's ever-observant eyes scanned the corridor before tapping twice on the door to Leia Organa's assigned room.
"It's unlocked,"came a muffled voice, filtered from behind the heavy hatch. Han pressed his hand on the access pad which allowed the door to open with a muted whoosh.
Leia's dulcet voice again sang out, "Fresher. Out in a minute."
Han's eyes had to adjust from the bright hallway to the dusky low light of Leia's modest private space. He placed the bottle on the small desktop and shrugged off his jacket, tossing it onto the cabin's lone chair. There, atop her neatly organized desk, was the box he had earlier entrusted to Threepio to deliver to her room while he and she worked during the holo screening. She had obviously discovered it—the lid was off, and the finely textured tissue that had protected the contents were pushed aside to reveal a now-empty box.
Han inhaled, a hopeful smile on his face as the fresher door clicked open.
His heart sank upon seeing that Leia was wrapped up in a long, thick robe. Her change of attire seemed to suggest to him that she had had a change of heart—it seemed as though she was preparing to turn in for the night.
The Corellian fumbled to collect his coat with one hand and hastily pick up the bottle of wine with the other, attempting to disguise his presumption. "Thought you might like a nightcap," he stammered. "Help ya sleep."
Leia blinked, and for an instant Han thought he could see a flash of confusion in her deep brown eyes. "That would be lovely," she replied, and then moved past him to open a cabinet and retrieved a pair of wine flutes.
Han watched as she set the mismatched stemware atop the desk, and then turned, clutching at the collar of her robe. Her brow was furrowed, and was that disappointment he saw when she tipped her face to his? His heart soared - perhaps she was as eager to continue their translating lesson as he?
Only one way to find out, Han thought, and snagged the bottle from atop the desk. Leia's eyes were glued to his hands as he expertly opened the bottle then poured the golden liquid. He passed the first filled glass to her, and then filled the other for himself.
"Here's to translatin'," he said as he tilted his wine to her in a toast.
Holding his gaze, a slow smile spread across Leia's face and she lifted her glass in return. "To translating." They clinked their glasses then, and each took a sip.
"Oh!" Leia broke the charged silence with a start. "I meant to say something when you arrived. Thank you," she gestured toward the box, "for the beautiful gift. You didn't need to do that, Han."
"Gift? More like a replacement. Felt bad about what happened with the autovalet. Was nothin'." He gave what hoped was a casual shrug, but was inwardly delighted that his selection had met her approval. With Leia, he never knew what her reaction might be. But, judging by her response, Han was feeling hopeful that he may have, for once, done something pretty good.
"Well, it wasn't necessary and is far from nothing. They are….beautiful. Simply elegant." She flashed him a wry smile. "You have good taste, Flyboy."
"In women," he winked at her playfully, hoping to quell the slight awkwardness between them with a fallback into banter-style interaction.
"Smooooth, Captain," Leia chortled lightly. "Lip reading can't possibly convey that smarmy glibness," she teased.
"Not smarmy!" Han poked back. "True."
''Perhaps I need more lessons to grasp the subtleties of your Corellian drawl." She lifted the wine to her lips, and then lowered her eyes as she managed a small sip. Han watched, transfixed, as the tip of her tongue floated across her bottom lip, clearly savoring the delectable vintage. Then, raising her chin, she gazed up at him through her heavy lashes.
Han cleared his throat as he set his wine down on the desktop. "You up for that, Sweetheart?" he asked, reaching out to brush one hand lightly against the sleeve of her velvety robe. "I...figured you were done for the night."
Like the effervescent wine in her glass, Leia's eyes sparkled as she coyly replied, "I'm up for it, Captain."
With a nod, Han plucked the drink from her hand and placed it on the desktop next to his. "Okay, then," he bent down to whisper in her ear. "Lesson Two."
Lightly grasping her shoulders, he tugged her closer to him. He lifted one hand to rest briefly on her cheek, and then allowed it to glide gently from her earlobe to her neck, running beneath her chin and finally coming to rest on her shoulder once more as he bent down towards her. "Throat movement reveals a lot," he sighed against her neck. "But, as we learned in Lesson One, lips can pick up on so much more."
Unable to resist any longer, Han pressed his lips to her creamy skin, moving across her delicate throat in slow, soft kisses.
Leia angled her head, providing more powder-soft skin for Han's mouth and fingertips to explore. "I, I think I'd like to try that myself," she breathed.
"Talkin' like an ace student," Han laughed, and then drew in a ragged breath as Leia tugged back his shirt collar. Stretching up on tiptoe, she repeated the steps he had taken with her, administering feather-light brushes of her fingers mixed with the smooth movement of her lips against the sensitive skin of his neck.
"Leia." Her name tumbled from him before their mouths met in exquisite delight. The passion between them, so long repressed, overflowed. Coming up for air, Leia took Han's hand and timidly pulled him toward her bunk.
"Sweetheart?" he tenderly questioned.
Leia's kiss-swollen lips mouthed the word — yes.
Han gazed at her a moment, in awe of the beautiful young woman who was about to fulfil his most fervent dream. But even in dreams, he could have never anticipated her next move. The dark-haired beauty uncinched the belt of her robe, and slowly slipped her arms from its flowing sleeves. The garment dropped, cascading into a billowy puddle at her feet, revealing to her soon-to-be lover that she was dressed in the beautiful lingerie he had chosen for her. White satin straps held the shimmersilk bra against her narrow shoulders, matching the hip and hemline trim along the shorts-style bottoms. She was radiant, and the shimmersilk fabric only enhanced the glow of her porcelain skin.
"Leia," was all Han could manage to say as his eyes took her in. She looked, he thought, like an angel from the old Corellian myths. "You are kriffin' gorgeous."
She beamed up at him. "I've heard you've always pictured me in white."