She's texting again? Seriously?
Muted clicks coax Bruce's eyes open to the dim gray light of a rainy morning. Rivulets of water stream down the glass walls of his bedroom. The side of his mouth lifts into a smile. The gloom of a rainy Sunday morning cannot overshadow the sunshine that radiates from the woman next to him. There's a halting quality to her texts. She types slowly because she's terrible at it on her phone but what makes him smile deeper is the curl of her lip over her bottom teeth like she's concentrating hard, while something humorous shines in her eyes.
"If you touch my phone, Bruce Wayne…" She says it without moving her focus from the screen. Nor does she have to finish her threat because he knows he'll end up with a broken hand this time. She's very attached to the red phone. He won't make that mistake again.
So, he makes the wise decision to roll on his side and just stare at her until she either stops out of annoyance or guilt. He doesn't really care which. Besides, he's content to spend long stretches of time simply looking at her.
There's a strange lightness in his heart since he told her he loves her. Like a vice grip has been removed. It's a scary step. He won't deny that. The whole vulnerability thing and all…but she makes the idea that he's exposed himself, the deepest parts of who he is, seem more palatable. He's never trusted anyone so completely, other than Alfred, but he thinks he's pretty damn close to being there with her. Or as close as he'll ever get.
He reaches out a finger to toy with one of the lace flower cutouts on her sexy negligee she put back on after the made love last night. The roughness of his skin catches on the softness, an interesting reflection of who they were to each other. She swats his hand away. Undeterred, he goes back in to trace the sweep of lace curving along her ribs. He receives a slice of a glare, but the corner of her lips tug into a smirk, so he knows she's not all that annoyed. Definitely not enough to stop her conversation. He's got to go more aggressive.
He snakes his hand underneath the down comforter to find her leg. The long skirt of her negligee is bunched over her knee. He sweeps his palm up the length of her thigh and curls his fingers around to her inner thigh. Her skin is hot and smooth. Maybe if he positions himself between her thighs she'll pay attention to him. However, her hand finds his and she pushes it away. A perturbed sigh escapes his lips.
"If you're texting Barry again, I seriously have to wonder if you'd rather spend time in bed with him…"
She rolls her eyes. "It's Lois. She and Kal-El want to go to brunch."
"Tell them there's a nice place on 105th." A sharp frown etches his lips and squelches his morning vigor. Now, he's just annoyed. "Delfino's. They should try it."
The look on her face is impatient. "They want to go with us."
"Mmm. Not interested." Brunching with the future Mr. and Mrs. Kent is not on his agenda for this morning. Or for pretty much every morning for the next thousand years.
"Come on, I think it would be lovely." Now she's giving him that hopeful, beautiful smile that if he was a nicer person, would make him want to jump through hoops with bells on to make her happy. The dark chocolate pools of her eyes actually twinkle at him. Well fuck, when her eyes sparkle like that, he'd pretty much jump through those hoops with a damn tutu on. He can't look at her.
"Like a double date? No." He flops back against the pillows and tucks his hands behind his head.
"No. Like two couples sharing conversation and a meal together." She leans over him and smooths her palm up his chest. He has to fight to keep his eyes from closing because goddammit he really likes it when she does that. The little rake of her fingernails punctures tiny holes in his resolve. He swallows.
"That's a double date, Princess."
"Whatever you want to call it." She presses a kiss to the hollow of his neck. And another to the side of his jaw. "I want to go."
Maybe if he remains silent she'll give up. He's a very patient man when he needs something. He could wait her out.
But the gentle scratching of her fingers, the warm scent of her skin. He won't look at her. He can't, because he'll cave and the Batman doesn't do brunch. Her campaign to seduce him marches forward despite his determination and she brings out her 'big guns'. She throws her leg over his. Her skin is like liquid heat and the silk of her negligee whispers over the hair on his thigh. Slowly, she entices him by dragging her toe up his shin. Her knee grazes his inner leg and his arousal stirs anew. But really, it's the teasing of her nose against the corner of his mouth and the lingering kiss she places there that does him in.
"Fine. Tell them Delfino's on a 105th. In two hours."
"An hour."
"Ninety minutes." He refuses to budge any sooner. "Because I'm going to make love to you until you scream my name. And then we're going to need showers, where I'll probably make love to you again. But, I really need two hours to do it properly."
She hums a laugh. "Well, you better work fast Batman, because I told Lois we will meet them in forty-five minutes."
He pulls back to glare at her. His first reaction is shock. But then again, he really shouldn't be surprised. This fierce, independent woman whose taken up residence in his soul is a formidable strategist when she wants to be. "You know, it's not nice to make plans for people without their consent."
"I received your consent. Just now."
"After you committed to brunch." The offensive word practically claws out of his throat.
"Don't be so grumpy." She chuckles and traces his eyebrow with her finger. "It sounds like fun."
"Trust me, there is nothing fun about brunch."
She pouts at him, but it's really a mocking pout. And he has to force himself to not actually mirror the expression. "I know this is not how you wanted to spend a romantic, rainy Sunday morning. But, because you've so graciously accepted defeat…" He almost snorts a laugh as she says that outrageous stretch of the truth. She smiles too because she knows she's failing miserably to lie. "I promise to make it up to you."
"I'll hold you to that, Princess. Anytime, anywhere I want."
"A promise is unbreakable, Bruce Wayne. You should know that by now."
"I do." He smiles then and brushes her long hair off her neck. His heart swells with the deep love he feels for this woman and he kisses her. It's a searing kiss full of promise and love and desire. She leans into him with a moan. As much as he hates it, he pulls away and slips out of bed in a flash. He hears her frustrated groan as he turns on the shower. She's behind him in the blink of an eye and wrapped around him, legs and arms entwine with his against the cold tile not yet tepid by the stream of the shower. He gasps at the shock of cold but is soon warmed by her passion.
In the end, they're only twenty minutes late for brunch. Bruce considers that a win.