Sparks, Flames, Embers
Chapter 3: The Rules
She came. They stripped. And then she came. And came. And came again.
He used that silver tongue of his to good and extremely effective use. She showed him what it was like to have a real woman ride on top.
Afterwards, she didn't have to scramble for her clothes quite so much before she attempted to make her exit out the window that connected to the fire escape.
"Where are you going?" he called confusedly after her.
"Back to my dorm," she answered, and then dubiously eyeing his sprawled and spent-looking form, she asked archly, "Unless you think you have another few rounds in you?"
He lazily waved his hand in the air, dismissing her question, and clarified, "No, I mean – why are you going out that way?"
Peggy tried not to smirk at him, but it was really hard not to be chuffed at how incredibly brain-dead she had made him. It had certainly been a more pleasurable way to do so than busting her hand on his jaw like she had imagined doing over a thousand times these past two years.
"It's not Christmas break anymore," she condescendingly explained. When that wasn't sufficient, she added slowly, "Your frat house is crawling with your frat brothers…? Frat brothers who like to gossip…? Like a bunch of pre-teen girls?"
At the insult to his brothers' masculinity, the light bulb finally came on with a burst of indignant outrage. He sat straight up, exclaiming, "Fuck no, Carter! Jesus, we have rules here."
"Let me guess. What happens in the frat house stays in the frat house?" she scoffed.
"Exactly."
She crossed her arms and settled back against the window ledge. In all honesty, enjoying this debate about as half as much as the sex. Now either that said their rounds of the mattress mambo hadn't been as good as she thought or something not so flattering about her character. She would overanalyze that later.
"Really, the only two people you have to worry about violating the Vegas rule are the gossipy bitches, Ramirez – who I will straighten out in the morning – and Daniel. But tonight's bowling night, so he won't even see you. Your dirty little secret is safe and locked-down."
Peggy relaxed a little at this. Ricky Ramirez would do whatever Jack told him. He was one of Jack's staunchest Yes-men. And Daniel was out bowling tonight. He and Rose Roberts, her R.A., were on the same team, and took the sport quite seriously. So seriously that she knew that Rose had gotten Daniel special shoes to help with his limp, 'so he wouldn't have to compensate quite so much'.
Making a mental note to ask Daniel later about the success of the shoes, she un-crossed her arms and strode for the door, saying ominously, "Okay. Fine. But if word gets out about this, I will let everyone know about your dirty little secret – emphasis on the little."
To her smug satisfaction, there was a high-pitched squawk of protest "'Little'?! Carter, there is nothing lit– !", which she cut off just as she shut the door behind her.
His outrage was such music to her ears that she didn't mind the pointed looks, arched eyebrows, and barely hushed wolf whistles by the few Sigma Sigma Rho brothers who did witness her dramatic exit.
~A~
No one did talk about it. There was not one peep or squeak from the rumor mill on Greek Row, not even any knowing winks.
Jack continued to be his snide, pompous, sarcastic jackass-self when they crossed paths publicly, but he never used his recently acquired intimate knowledge of her in their verbal sparring matches.
She would have just left it at that, but then…Howard happened.
"Hey, thanks for meeting me here," he greeted her as soon as she got to his table.
"Sure no problem," she reassured as she sat down across from him, and then she did a double take. Alarm bells were going off in her head. Howard Stark was exhibiting all the signs of being guilty of something – shifting in his seat, not meeting her eyes, nervously licking his lips.
"Unless there is a problem?"
"Problem? No, no problem. Why would there be a problem? Geez, Peg, you always jump to the worst conclusions."
"Okay, now I know there is a problem. You haven't babbled like this since you had to own up that you hit on my new roommate Angie." After she had clearly told him not to.
Freshmen year had been a social disaster in her hall due to the fact that her charming friend had serial dated through most of her neighbors. At one point, he had tricked Edwin into dropping off his favorite break-up gift to one girl, while he himself delivered roses to his next as she walked out of her women's studies class. The problem was that they were roommates.
Considering how she had reacted to his infraction with Angie, it was no wonder that he had asked her to meet him in the cafeteria, a highly public place, where she was less likely to hit him over whatever it was that he might potentially be about to confess.
"I didn't babble then," he protested, and then with boyish pout, he added, "I whined. Like a school girl. You were twisting my ear like Sister Nora did when I was a boy."
"Defensiveness. Repetition. Teasing tangents about naughty-boy Stark days. I rest my case." Fixing him with a cool stare, she ordered, "Spill."
"Alright, already. Well, you know I am starting my own R&D company, right?"
She did. Despite Howard Stark still being in undergrad, he was on his way to being a multi-millionaire. Mostly, it was due to his highly successful inventions – a few popular and useful software programs here, a few ingenious, energy saving hardware items there. There was also a keen business-acumen as well that contributed to his wealth. Many, even as far back as his senior year in high school, had predicted that he would be the next Steve Jobs.
One might ask why he was still in college if he was so successful. To be honest, many had. She herself had when she and Steve had first met him in Econ class. His reply had been a sly wink and 'Why, Peggy, for the hot co-ed babes, of course'. She suspected the real reason was that Lehigh University gave him the perfect place to poach the brightest and keenest minds for his research and development company.
As soon as she had this thought, she exclaimed, "Oh no, Howard! You didn't, did you?"
"If you mean, that I didn't ask a certain brilliant physicist to come onto my latest project that I came up with while I was in Peru, then…I plead the fifth – unless of course, you're okay with it? You will be okay with it, won't you, Peggy? I mean with his help we could make a real breakthrough…"
And just like that he was off, overwhelming her with his scientific jargon and guilt trips about hindering progress with her emotional hang-ups over a bad break-up.
By the end of his please-forgive-me-even-though-I-am-so-not-sorry-for-not-asking-for-permission-first spiel, she finally caved and said it was 'okay'.
She left the cafeteria feeling completely 'not okay'.
She thought about texting any one of her girlfriends – Angie, Rose, or Ana. But she really wasn't in the mood to be pitied.
'You know who wouldn't pity you?' a tiny niggling voice goaded her at the back of her mind.
No. Not him.
'But…'
And just like that, with hardly any other prompting, she found herself messaging him back.
Peggy: Round 3? My place?
Peggy: Angie's at her family's for the weekend.
He replied within minutes.
Jack: Keep your window open. U grls dfntly don't have the Vegas rule.
~A~
She made it back to her dorm in time to do a quick tidy-up, to raid Angie's condom stash, to save a reminder in her phone to buy and replace what she stole so her friend would be none the wiser, to re-apply her lip gloss, and to open up the window as requested.
Again within minutes of this signal, he was texting: on my way up. Both literally and figuratively ; )
She might have commented on his over-eagerness, but that would be like the pot calling the kettle black, so she refrained – but only barely, especially when he began stripping as soon as he was in her room.
While she may have been willing to hold her tongue in the spirit of not being overly critical, Jack as usual was not.
When he noticed that she was not disrobing at the speed that had been par for the course so far, he snarked even as had his shirt half-pulled over his head, "Well, Marge, if you want foreplay, you got to speak up. As brilliant and observant as I am, mind reader I am not."
When his shirt was completely off and he saw her staring at his well-muscled and beautifully lean torso, he leered, "Like what you see, sweetheart?"
Oh bloody hells, yes she did. The problem was that unlike last time, she was not in the mood to verbally spar with him.
She wanted… she wanted…
Forcing herself to look him in the eye, she bluntly asked, "You don't mind that I am using you for hot rebound hate sex, do you?"
He smirked, "Just as long as you don't mind that I am using you for simple good ol' sex."
She doesn't.
"Good, then no talking," and then with that last demand, she fused her mouth to his to seal the deal.
The kiss was hot, harsh, and biting.
His hands were rough as they dug into her skin and practically ripped her skirt and shirt from her. She was equally fierce, grinding up against him, shoving him towards the bed, clawing at his pants.
It was a brutal battle of wills. There were bruises and scratches and fervent breathy pants.
And when she finally got him naked and he got her down to her underwear, he lunged for one of her stolen condoms, rolled it on, shoved aside that last scrap of lacy fabric, and then he thrust up and into her.
One hand grasped her hip tightly, the other gripped her hair at the back of her neck to pull her moaning mouth to his, as he steadily pushed into her.
Both sets of her lips grasped at him greedily. She wriggled and rocked and arched her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. She clawed at his back with one hand and holding his upper arm with the other, using it as leverage, doing whatever she could for that coveted feeling of friction.
And he is giving it to her in spades.
It's rough and hard, and by the end of it, she is biting into his shoulder to keep from screaming and he is letting out low needy moans in her ear. The feel of his warm breath ghosting across her neck – just right Oh God! there – has her shuddering around him just as much as his lancing thrusts that were hitting all the right buttons were.
He came within moments of her, but instead of him collapsing next to her as he was wont to do with their previous …grappling sessions (for a lack of a better term), he immediately headed to her bathroom to clean up.
She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew he was dressed and tossing her phone at her.
She was torn between protesting his leaving (she had clearly indicated that Angie would be gone for the whole weekend) and checking to see whose call she missed. She gave into curiosity, especially when Thompson grunted at her when she almost set her phone aside.
She let out a low laugh when she read the message he sent her.
Jack: Sry. I got 2 go. Plans with Li & Ricky
Playing along with his desire to continue to obey her no talking rule, she texted back:
Peggy: No prob. Don't wanna know what kind of trble Larry & Curly are getting up 2 without their Moe
He scowled and both texted her and flashed her a rude hand gesture, before ducking out the way he came in.
That was fine by her though. She was sweaty and achy in all the right places.
She was quite in a magnanimous mood – at least towards him. Who woulda thunk?