The first few beams of cool grey morning light filtered through the blinds to splash across Bethany's face, oozing with liquid slowness across her eyes.
There came a momentary pause, one filled with softly inheld breath, and then her eyelids flickered and twitched before squeezing tight. Bethany made a small noise in the back of her throat and turned her face into Garret's shoulder with a grumbling groan. She refused to open her eyes this early without due cause, but the slanted fall of light across the pinkened veil of her eyelids told her that it was well after seven, time and past for her brother to be up. "You're late for work," she yawned, twisting a stretch that brought her pressing up against those places that were still warm from her.
"I know." The bristly beginnings of a beard scratched through her hair, something rueful but entirely unlike true concern dripping from his words like the first honey of summer, something slow and spreading and sweet, something that clung to her breath and the curling corners of her mouth that refused to come undone, now. Her fingers. They only tangled further in his hair, tugging him in closer for a kiss, then a second, nibbling and licking a shivery line across his lips until they parted for her with a sound that tasted sweeter still.
Bethany murmured approval and shifted, coming more awake and alert now at the first sweeps of her tongue. She plunged in with a happy sigh, with a purr, with a clenching of her hands and her knees that made his chest hitch against hers, made his breath catch and become lost somewhere between her tongue and her lungs as she breathed him in, all of him, more, all he had to give and more he didn't know he had, until it was his turn to clutch at her, to make simply delicious needy sounds high up in his throat. When she finally let him pull away he was gasping, licking kiss swollen lips with a pink flash of tongue she moved without thought to follow with her own.
He dodged her with a laugh, pulling back just far enough that she was left kissing empty air, smiling down at her. He bumped her nose with his. "Later," he said, though he had the good grace to look regretful. "I'll never get to work if we start that up."
"You wanted to quit anyway," Bethany groaned, rolling over of her side to bring her bent forearm up to shield her eyes enough to look at his backlit face where it tilted to flash an upside down smile at her.
"Maybe, but I want to eat too, and keep you well supplied in candles and lighting, don't I? You aren't a cheap date."
"You're the one who uses up all the soap," she retorted, sticking out her tongue, but she was smiling at she said it, flopping back onto her back with a sigh. She'd have to get up herself in a while, but she was feeling far too warm currently to want to move. Warm in the traces Garret left and with thoughts of him, too, she admitted to herself with the slow, ticklish slide of embarrassment that had her catching at her lower lip with her teeth when she heard the water turn in in the bathroom, her imagination filling in those gaps where her eyes had ever been ready to supply. The slide of his pants down over slim hips, the curve of his spine receding away from his backside that just begged to be traced with hands and lips and teeth, up and up and down again.
Bethany's hips stuttered a tight circle. She fought down a small noise. Even now, that old familiar guilt bloomed heat high on her cheeks, serving only to heighten the excitement than had her pressing her legs together with a noise that was closer to a moan than a whimper when she pressed questing fingers between them, loud and wanton and surprising herself. She thought for a moment that Garret had heard her, but she relaxed back with the warm coil of warmth in her belly as she eased her pajama bottoms aside to grind down her palm to the place that ached.
Bethany let her head fall back on a gasp, fingers curling through damp hair to leave ringing trails that begged for more attention. She gave it to herself, again and again, fingers flickering a staccato rhythm in circles she hadn't even known how to do a few short years ago but that now she would die if she couldn't have it, would fly apart at the seams without something to hold on to. Her breath hitched at the pressure, leaving her all in a rush. Her lip trembled, wringing the last sound out as a whimpering cry, soft and lost in the pounding counterpoint at her ears and the rush of water from the bathroom. Her tongue fair cleaved to the roof of her mouth when the sound of water was replaced with creak of metal on metal and the groan of pipes, with her own groan joining the chorus at the thought of his coming out before she was done, of his finding her here like this.
Her eyes fluttered closed at the mental image such an idea conjured, his calloused palms still wet from the shower cold against her skin, and she let out a shivering sob that soon faded to a shriek at the unexpected pressure of very real and very chill fingers coming down to grip on either thigh. "Oh, I think work might have to wait."