Chapter 4 – The Fimbres House Rules
Elm trees lined the streets of the upper middle class residential neighborhood nestled in the small suburb of Atlanta. Paved sidewalks on Walk Avenue ended two hundred feet from the entrance of an unassuming driveway at end of a private cul-de-sac. Jutting from the large brick columns at the foot of the ingress was a black iron wrought steel gate gingerly hidden by an expanse of leaves and bushes. The dual swing gate stood open, as it normally did, on the days when guests were expected. Once entering the property, the one acre of land revealed vegetation as far as the eye could see.
Maple trees with leaves ranging from vibrant orange to the darkest of green were embedded along the winding path leading to the residence. The sprawling trees – some reaching one hundred feet tall - served as both an awning on the sunniest of days, and a barrier from the prying eyes of adoring fans. The area was far removed from the noises of a distant city. The only sounds were the occasional motor boats on the lake, and nature's many sized critters.
Nestled among the foliage was the very modern and mildly extravagant Fimbres home. Large windows adorned the front of the two story rust colored country barn house with white shudders and brick mounting.
The spacious house and massive acreage was a far cry from Michonne's upscale condominium located in the heart of Atlanta; which was complete with a doorman, building security and private elevators.
She parked alongside the half dozen or so cars stationed in no particular order or direction near the front door. Before she could knock on the partially ajar door it was flung open and she was lovingly accosted.
It was like being wrapped in a blanket of sweet adulation. Michonne had barely made it through the front door before being grabbed and held in a tight embrace. She smiled and held tight to the tall, somewhat plump woman whose medium length reddish-brown hair smelled like rose pedals.
"I'm so glad you could make it," Gina expressed mid-hug.
Michonne had formed a genuine bond with Gina and Peter Fimbres over the past three years. They would invite her to dinner every chance they could. The relationship was mutually beneficial. Gina and Henry enjoyed her stories of world travel, and being new to Georgia, Michonne was always happy for the company.
The couple warmed up to the accomplished actress quicker than their son. Carl looked at the fierce-sophisticated-French speaking actress like she was an oddity from his comic books. He kept his distance. As for Michonne, she was more than fine with limiting her interaction with Carl to only required on-screen filming. Children are the future…and all the other politically correct things you're supposed to say, but she had no true interest in them.
Neither actress nor her young co-star really had too much use for the other. After working together for a few months, they were given scripts where their characters had nearly an entire episode based around them bonding. Life imitated art when, after seven days of filming, they let down their guards with one another. The seeds of apprehension that existed between them quickly changed and blossomed into a friendship. They soon had an unbreakable bond built on a foundation of mutual trust and understanding.
"As if I really had a choice," Michonne said after Gina released her from the warm hug; referencing the young man that they both knew was like a dog with a bone when it came to having his way.
"What can I say, my son thinks the sun rises and sets on you," Gina laughed and patted Michonne on the arm. Gina Fimbres was an openly kind person. There was no surprise that Carl was the type of human being he was – it was in his DNA.
"Mutual appreciation society I guess," she cheekily responded while they strolled further into the foyer.
The immediate Fimbres family comprised of Peter, Gina, Carl and Jilly. Carl's younger sister was not interested in acting, which was a relief to her overtaxed parents. Keeping up with Carl's career was more than enough for them.
Their extended family was not very large – there were a few aunts, uncles and cousins. All birthday, anniversary and holiday celebrations generally brought out the same relatives. Rick and Michonne were usually the only non-family members invited to the Fimbres celebrations. Rick would bring RJ from time to time, but even when he was still married, his wife never attended.
The parties were never formal. Beyond the rule that everyone had to relax and have fun, there were only four Fimbres house rules.
Michonne and Gina made their way over to a few of the Fimbres family members. The actress was hugged in turn before the usual third degree began-
Rick had been at the party for about thirty minutes. He'd been distracted since leaving Denise's office. Michonne consumed his every thought. Boldly kissing her on the cheek was completely out of character for him. Though his ex-sheriff's deputy television alter ego was bold and self-assured, Rick Grimes was anything but. Where did I get the hutzpah to kiss her?
Their interaction had caused more than just an embarrassing erection, it had also brought with it feelings that he was sure neither were quite ready to deal with.
His acting skills permitted him to appear engaged in the discussion he was having with Peter, Ted and Alvin. But, truthfully, he was just biding his time. The payoff eventually happened. He watched her enter the room with Gina. He internally perked up when he saw her. She was wearing a flowing yellow summer dress that stopped just below her knees. The loose fit of the colorful garment did not hide the roundness of her rear or the ample perk of her breasts. The heeled blue sandals she wore accentuated her long and toned legs, 'Damn. So damn beautiful.'
He took a sip of his drink while imperceptibly staring as she sailed across the room with their hostess. The gentle sway of her hips had him transfixed. Her sexy, classy and casual glide was not something that could be taught, 'she was born that way.' He smirked, raising one eyebrow and then subtly chuckling.
Ted thought the actor's current facial expression was in relation to the story he was regaling the men with about finding the perfect engine for the car he was rebuilding. He smacked Rick on the back…
"That's really cool, right?" He cheerfully asked seeing that the television star was clearly interested in his story; oblivious to Rick's lack of focus.
"Yep, it is." Rick distractedly agreed. He looked over to where she stood-
"…Michonne, you have to tell us something. I mean, just nod," Aunt Ilda giggled, refusing to give up on getting some information on the upcoming episode.
"Yeah, just blink once if Perry was actually bit, and two times if he wasn't," Cousin Seth added, causing the giggle to turn into a full-fledged laugh-o-rama. Michonne shook her head and swatted the arm of the overzealous fan.
"You guys leave her alone," Gina chimed in, "If Pete and I can't get it out of Carl—do you really think you have a chance of getting it out of Michie?"
As she glanced around the room her eyes landed on Rick. He was speaking with Peter and two men -Peter's uncle Ted and his cousin Alvin. Her heart sped up. She quickly looked back at Gina who was jokingly admonishing her relatives for accosting her.
She tried to stay present in the ongoing topic being discussed but her mind remained elsewhere. The actress peeked over Ilda's shoulder to again ogle Rick. He was sipping his drink. His faded blue jeans hugged his slim but muscular hips in a way that she'd tried for years not to notice. His dark t-shirt showcased pecks that seemed to just come out of nowhere, 'Have you always been built like that?' His dark hair had recently been cut, minimizing the amount of curls he had recently been sporting.
The stubble on his face, the face that had so seductively brushed her cheek earlier, was a little more pronounced. She was awestruck as he raised the clear plastic cup to his lips, 'Those lips. Good God! Have they always been that pink? That…stop it Michonne.' She lightly shook her head and looked back at Ilda in an attempt to catch up with whatever topic was being discussed.
"Don't be so impatient Seth. You'll find out soon enough…" Gina admonished.
Michonne's eyes drifted back in his direction. Her gaze lingered a few seconds longer than planned. They made eye contact; momentarily locking eyes.
He smiled wide and mouthed, "hello." Her hand unconsciously went to the gold necklace she wore before mouthing, "hello," in response.
"…Michie, your career is on fire right now…" Aunt Ilda interjected into a conversation that Michonne was not currently following, "I mean, the show, the play and the movie," she touched the mildly distracted actress with her index finger and made a "sizzle" sound. They all laughed.
"Thank you," she said, "It's been a serious whirlwind. But I won't complain."
After their silent greeting, Rick had to speak to her. He politely excused himself from the less than riveting chat about automobiles and strode with purpose across the room.
"…Michie," Cousin Tina had joined the small group while Michonne was feasting both her eyes and thoughts on Rick, "Did you hear me?"
"Oh, Tina, I'm sorry," Michonne looked into the face of the somewhat perplexed twenty something young woman, "what was your question?"
"I was asking about Daryl. At Carl's birthday party a couple months ago you said he had a girlfriend. Just checking to see if that's still the case," she laughed. Her mother Ilda popped her on the shoulder…
"Tina—have you no shame?" She pursed her lips, shaking her head at her daughter's inappropriate question.
"You're right, Mom. I have no shame," she smirked. Laughter again broke out.
"What's so funny…?" A very southern drawl washed over the group. Everyone turned to see the smiling face of the actor as he approached.
There were four rules that everyone who attended a Fimbres family party abided by:
*No more than two alcoholic drinks if you were driving home – Rule Number One
*Know the difference between the recycle bin and the regular trash bin – Rule Number Two.
*No less than three hugs per person – Rule Number Three
Both Peter and Gina Fimbres voiced and strictly enforced the first three rules. The fourth rule, however, was an unspoken one that everyone discretely enforced…
The 'Michonne and Rick must always have at least a three person buffer at all times' rule was number four.
Much like the unvoiced concerns of their co-stars and colleagues, no one said anything to them directly. The unspoken forth Fimbres rule had been in effect for nearly two years when Gina noticed the coldness between the actors. There was a carefully orchestrated guests-move-around dance that happened when both Michonne and Rick were in attendance at a Fimbres family event.
The two generally kept their distance. There was mild shock when Rick walked up and joined a group that Michonne was a part of. What was even weirder was that his co-star didn't seem to mind.
"Oh, Rick. Hey," Tina stepped away from Michonne and closer to Rick, "I was asking Michie about Daryl's relationship status," the young blonde was nothing if not persistent.
Rick laughed, "I don't think his relationship status has changed since the last time you asked," he discretely glanced at his co-star.
"See Tina—you need to move on and stop being a stalker," Seth added with a snicker.
"Shut up, Seth," she glowered at her slightly older male cousin. Rick ignored the young woman's faintly comic outburst…
"By the way, Hi everyone," he announced to the small collection of party goers; his eyes remained on Michonne. The others attempted to not show their surprise at his brazen move.
"Hey, Rick," Ilda and Seth said in unison. He and Seth shook hands. Ilda gave him a quick hug. Michonne waited for the petit aunt to release him before speaking…
"Hi, Rick," Michonne said barely above a whisper. There was no attempt on his behalf to hide his ever increasing stare. She shifted her stance.
"So Rick, I need either you or Michie to put in a good word for me," Tina said, looking between the actors; finally noticing that something was different.
"Tina," Michonne nudged the young woman and giggled, "Daryl is too old for you."
The millennial huffed, "No he isn't," not going down without a fight. She turned her head towards Rick, and then back to Michonne, "Rick may be too old, but Daryl isn't." They all laughed.
"Daryl and I are the same age young lady," Rick said with a half-smile.
"Well, you seem super old. Like an uncle," she protested, "But Daryl—he's hot…" she snapped her fingers and wiggled to the non-existent music; causing further laughter.
"Tina, you are way too much," Gina said as she laughed; her facial expression echoing the amusement of everyone else.
The others were focused on the twenty something woman who was completely comfortable within her own skin. But Rick was looking at her.
"Michonne," he said, his eyes roving down her body, and then slowly back up, "you look beautiful as usual," he swirled his drink around without taking his eyes off of her. This was not the Rick she was used to. He was openly coming on to her—in front of everyone.
The contentious barrier that had existed between them for so long was now gone.
Her hands lightly brushed the non-existent wrinkles in her dress, "Thank you. You're looking pretty dapper yourself," her eyes wide as the words left her mouth with a throaty inflection that she had not intended.
He stepped around Tina and closer to his co-star, "How was your drive? Did you get stuck behind that big accident?" his blue eyes didn't strayed from her wide brown ones.
"Um, yeah. It wasn't that bad though," she smiled as her hand moved up and found its way to her necklace.
"Well," he raised one eyebrow and smirked, "Since I know you have this obsessive thing about timeliness, I figured it was either that or some kind of alien abduction," he chuckled and stepped one foot closer.
"You're hilarious Grimes," she offered him a close-lipped smile; "I was just running a little late." After the kiss he gave her on the cheek she was confused. She was open to a friendship, but that kiss was something else. She got home and spent the next few hours contemplating what it all meant. Her admission—His admission. What did it mean for them? She vacillated between attending the party and not attending, until deciding that she really wanted to see him.
"An alien abduction is sounding more and more plausible," he was so close that she could smell the mix of fruit and alcohol on his breath.
"That's funny. But I can assure you that I am all woman," she felt immediately flushed upon hearing the flirtatiousness in her own words. She looked away just as his eyes grew wide.
"Hmm...Exactly what an alien would say," he winked and ran his free hand over his face.
"That's true. Guess you're just gonna have to take my word for it," her step towards him closed the remaining space between them. She could see his face becoming red. The throbbing between her legs increased.
He could smell her sweet scent. She wore it to every party. He'd learned years earlier that it was Tiffany's. The intoxicating fragrance had frustrated him for years; aroused him for years. She was something that he couldn't have. He was turned on and could feel his body reacting. He adjusted his stance as she stood directly in front of him.
"I don't know—I might need to check under your bed for a pod," he cocked his head slightly and softly laughed. She sucked in her bottom lip and slid the pendant on her gold necklace from side to side. They didn't break eye contact.
"What in the hell is goin' on around here?!" The fiery young blonde harmlessly demanded while looking back and forth between the two people that were supposed to hate each other.
"Tina…" Ilda barked at her daughter.
"I'm confused…since when do y'all like each other?" Tina continued, completely ignoring her mother's attempt to shut her down, "Maybe there was some kinda alien abduction, or maybe we're in the Twilight Zone," her lack of a filter was nothing new to anyone in the immediate vicinity. The young woman was the older female version of Carl.
"Get a room…"
"That's enough Tina," a mortified Ilda grabbed the young woman's arm and ushered her away; offering an apologetic quasi-smile to the group as she departed. Left behind were a confused Seth and Gina who were trying not to stare at an embarrassed Rick and Michonne. The sexual tension was undeniable and uncomfortable—for all present.
"Um, where's Carl?" Michonne asked, without looking directly at the hostess; gingerly backing away from Rick.
"He's, uh, probably outside still getting those dogs of his situated," she informed them. This was an unease that came completely out of left field. The tension was not the snarky hostility that she was accustomed to when dealing with these two. This was different. She used the napkin in her hand to wipe her forehead…
Gina had only recently heard the term, 'eye fucking,' but she was pretty sure that that is exactly what was going on, "Um, let me go find him," she dryly chuckled before quickly walking away.
Seth looked at the two actors who were standing with the most amusingly awkward looks on their faces. He realized, maybe a little slower than the others, that he was the third wheel on this tandem bike.
"I'm gonna go grab another drink," he informed them, "would either of you like anything?"
They glanced at the visibly uncomfortable young man…
"No, thank you, Seth" she smiled.
"No. I'm good Seth, Thanks," Rick added.
Seth nodded, spun on her heels, and rapidly beat a path to the kitchen. They watched the tall lanky young man walk as quickly as his long legs could carry him.
Rick turned to face the woman whom he was openly flirting with. 'I know how I feel. I think you feel the same way.'
The truth had been brought into the light and spoken out loud. There was no longer any need to bury his true feelings. For the first time since they'd met a few years earlier, he could be honest about how he felt. After watching her drive off earlier in the day, he spent hours introspectively focused on moving forward, 'What are the actual barriers that would prevent us from moving forward? Like her being in a committed relationship.'
Either way, he was ready to take the plunge. 'I want you, all of you, and I don't give a damn who knows.'
"Looks like we chased everybody away," he said while closing the physical gap between them.
"Apparently so," she agreed.
"…Rick…Michonne," Carl shouted through the small sea of family members as he entered the house. They watched as he barreled through his relatives, bypassing his mother as she attempted to get his attention.
"When did you get here, Michonne?" He asked once he reached her.
"Not that long ago," she said as they hugged, ruffling his hair.
Everyone in the room pretended not to notice how close the two stood to one another as they spoke to Carl. They saw Michonne's over the top giggles as Rick spoke; his oh-so-subtle touches as he spoke to her. They were comfortable with each other in a way that none in the room had witness for two years. It was more than just comfortability. Rule number four was blown to smithereens.
Gina waited patiently to speak with her friend, the worldly actress. She chatted with her husband, tended to her guests, and was the perfect hostess; all while patiently waiting. Carl had completely usurped the time of his favorite actor and actress. Her son seemed to be completely oblivious to the new dynamic – this magnetic chemistry – that existed between the two adults.
She pounced when she saw Michonne step away from Carl and Rick to grab something from the snack table. Walking quickly to the beauty…
"I don't wanna come off sounding like my wild cousin," she said quietly, in reference to the untamed Tina, "But what exactly is going on with you and Rick?"
Michonne giggled anxiously, allowing herself time to come up with a response.
"Honestly Gina, I don't really know. The only thing I know for sure is that we don't hate, or dislike each other anymore."
"Duh," Gina rolled her eyes and popped Michonne on the arm, "Tell me something that everyone in this room hasn't already figured out—when did this happen?"
"Um…Okay," her giggle not abating, "we had a chance to talk about some, um, some things."
In lieu of verbally responding, the loving hostess wrapped her arms around her friend, "We love you both so very much. Figure out what this is and then go with it. I think it's wonderful, and you both certainly deserve it," she whispered before slowly releasing the embrace. She was suddenly overcome by her depth of affection for the two stubborn thespians.
"Hey," Rick greeted as he came up to the women. Gina was just releasing Michonne from the hug; there were tears in her eyes.
"Everything okay?" He asked cautiously.
"Everything's great," Gina smiled and squeezed Michonne's hand; her face was mildly cherry red from both emotion and embarrassment. "Let me go and make sure all these ne'er-do-wells are following rule number two," Their friend and hostess informed them while coolly wiping her eyes. She turned and headed further into the room.
"Wanna go out on the patio? It's a really nice night," he asked touching the soft arm of his co-star.
"Sure," she said, "I'd like that."
x-x-x
The humidity that usually gripped Georgia in the late days of spring was barely evident. The moonlight was bright, cascading through the many trees that surrounded the house. Rick briefly excused himself to get her something to drink. With the growing tension between them, and the unending flattery from the party goers, she was happy for the momentary reprieve.
He briskly walked through the room, ignoring the stares, to rejoin her on the patio. His feet came to an abrupt stop for a moment. The glow of her dark skin under the natural light of the moon was mesmerizing. She turned and saw him staring at her; she diverted her gaze from his eyes to his hands.
"Thank you," she said reaching for the drink. It had been two years since they'd hung out and he still remembered her favorite drink, 'the most thoughtful man I've ever known. Keep it together girl. What are you doing to me Grimes?' she smiled graciously, not allowing her thoughts to show.
They began slowly reacquainting themselves with the other. Questions brought sarcastic stares. Answers brought uproarious laughter. As the minutes ticked by, all cautious reserve gave way to a comfortable flow. The many steps that seemed lost during their voluntary exile from each other – or rather her voluntary exile from him – were restored. It only took about forty minutes for them to fall back in step with a friendship that was never truly gone.
"…How do you think the fans will react to our characters getting together—romantically?" he inquired. It was one of the topics they had yet to address.
"I don't know," she glanced down at her drink, "I think it'll probably be like everything else. Some will love it and some will hate it…"
He nodded, "…Some will probably just accept it without much thought."
"You're right…" she skeptically agreed, "but, in a lot of ways, the world hasn't changed. There are still people–black and white–who aren't super comfortable with interracial relationships."
They regarded each other while the words sunk in. She took a drink, sucking the remaining pieces of ice from the glass. He watched her before responding…
"Yeah," he laughed, "I'm from the Confederate south, so yeah, you know I'm well aware of that," he paused before soberly chuckling, "my mom's gonna be over the moon though." He looked into her eyes; they both laughed.
"Your mother is a definite shipper." They laughed harder at the truth in her statement. Dotty Grimes had cornered the actress at a few different conventions and asked her when she and Rick would get together. It was always uncomfortable for Michonne. She never voiced it to anyone, but it always felt to her that Rick's mom wasn't just talking about the characters they played on the show.
"Trust me, I know that she's way over the top when it comes to our characters getting together," he reached over and touched her knee. She delicately crossed her legs, allowing his hand to fall from her exposed skin.
Shifting to stave off the growing heat between them, "Um, though I tried to ignore the oncoming story line, the foreshadowing was there for the pairing," she gazed into the darkness surrounding the patio as a slight breeze blew through the trees, "It makes sense; it's the organic progression of the two characters…" she added matter-of-factly. It was a truth that she could now admit; though it didn't stop her from lamenting incessantly with Sasha about the impending story line.
"Yeah, it makes sense," he agreed, watching her body movements, "but lots of people, maybe because of the comic book or just their own biases, can't see it. We may spend lots of time explaining to fans why the relationship makes sense," he said, and then added, "And dealing with lots of trolls," he smiled.
"Hmm, true," she agreed, skimming his face for lingering thoughts, "Did you know?"
"You mean did I know where the writers were heading?" He asked.
She nodded.
"I guessed. It was obvious where they were heading," he half-grinned, looking back into her eyes, "It's one of the reasons I started getting…a little…uneasy,"
"Why?" she asked.
"You know why…" his half-smile grew into a smile as he tilted his head; playfully throwing her question back at her.
Her eyes dropped down to her glass which was still half-full. She didn't respond.
"I've been conflicted—when it comes to you—for quite a while now. I managed to get over being attracted to you, but…" he lowered his voice and leaned forward, "I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to control those feelings once we had to be, uh, intimate on set." A closed set still meant ten people present while he had to fake something that wasn't actually fake.
"Oh," she mumbled.
"Pretty frustrating to be attracted to a woman - to fall for a woman- that hates you," he chuckled irreverently.
Purposely ignoring his admission, "I guess I saw what I wanted to see—and didn't see what I didn't want to see," she looked back into his eyes which were currently dark blue with flecks of light sparkling in them, "doesn't make much sense, huh?"
"Makes perfect sense to me," he reached over and rubbed her knee. She looked at his hand and then into his eyes. He removed his hand and sat back. She sat back further into her chair, shifting the position of her crossed legs. There was no denying the sexual synergy that was happening between them.
"So, uh, how's your boyfriend—Mark, right?" He dropped his eyes from her face down to her breasts, then back up to her face.
She tilted her head forward and looked at him through squinted eyes before softly chuckling. "His name is actually Mike, as you well know."
"So how is Mike handling all the things goin' on with your career right now?"
"He's, fine," she put the drink to her lips, "I guess…" she quietly declared before sipping the now watery mojito.
"Is he Really?" His question was unabashedly challenging her response.
"Yes his is," she said, "Anyway, how's RJ?"
Michonne and Rick's son RJ always had a good relationship. They weren't as close as she and Carl, but they had a mutual fondness for each other. In spite of what she thought about the boy's father, she honestly liked him. Much like Rick, RJ was funny, smart, kind, and a true gentleman in the making. And, also like his father, he was exceedingly humble. Her adoration for a young man, who was the living embodiment of a man that she despised, was irony not lost on her.
"RJ is good," he looked at her lips, "So we're changing the subject now I see," he smirked while she mused at his cockiness.
"Yes we are." She smirked back, "How about you? How's that girlfriend of yours?" The best defense is a good offense.
"That's funny Miss Michonne. I can assure you that I haven't had a girlfriend since before I got married. And I haven't been dating; just in case you were wondering," he grinned while watching her subtly fidget.
"Hmm," Yes—she was absolutely wondering.
"Hey, this is where y'all are hiding," Uncle Jeb shouted as he walked onto the patio.
The night passed quickly. Various members of the family made their way out to the patio to chat with the two television stars. The wish of the television stars to have some privacy was not even considered.
After a few hours of lively discussions, engaging debates, lots of laughter, and enormous amounts of grazing - Rick walked Michonne to her car…
"This was really fun," she remarked as they reached her car. He wanted to take her hand, but was aware of the eyes watching through the large window of the brightly lit house. Carl was in the middle of a head-to-head battle on his PlayStation when they left.
"Yeah, it was," he stepped closer to her. His wide blue eyes pierced her slightly narrowed brown orbs. If lust had a face it most certainly would've been Rick Grimes at the moment. Her heart was pounding, she suddenly felt overheated…
"Rick," she said breathily, "We—uh—we need to figure out what this is and take it slow—plus, I need to talk to Mike," she barely got the words out under the heat of his stare. She didn't need twenty-twenty vision to see that he was preparing to kiss her. He clearly no longer cared about being under the watchful eyes of the Fimbres clan.
"By talk with Mike, you mean break up with him?" He both asked and answered; his head slanted downwards. He took another step forward. Her butt bumped the Lexus.
"You are too much," she uttered, placing her hand on his chest to lessen the tension and break his stare, "We've only just stopped hating each other," she wantonly giggled.
"I've never hated you. Quite the contrary actually…" he raised his eyebrows and leaned forward.
"Umm, oh," her heart drummed with a quickened tempo.
"So, any idea of when that conversation with Mike is gonna happen?" He asked. His final step closed all the space between them. Ignoring her dissent, he gently pinned her against the vehicle. Her arm relaxed and fell to her side.
"You are nothing if not persistent Mr. Grimes," her voice dropped an octave as his sweet warm breath swept over her face.
"Well?" Continuing to ignore her words; he stroked her cheek.
"You think you can, uh, at least give me a couple of days?" she stammered unable to stop staring in his eyes. The determination in those aqua blues sent an electrical current through her; culminating with a deluge of wetness. She squeezed her legs together.
He took her face into his hands and leaned into her. His lips touched hers softly. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her completely off the car; firmly into him. He opened his mouth as she opened hers. Her knees went weak at the combined warmth of their mouths. Butterflies were wreaking havoc on her stomach. He gently sucked her bottom lip before easing his tongue into her mouth.
"Ahhh," she moaned into his mouth. The feeling of losing control was taking over.
The way she tasted, the heat coming from her body and her moan, caused an immediate reaction in him. She could feel the hardness protruding from his pants as he pulled her tighter. She moved her hands up to his neck and then into his hair. He moved his lips to the corner of her mouth. She recaptured his lips and sucked both top and bottom. He squeezed her back; massaging in a slow circular motion. "Mmm," she exhaled; fisting his hair and lightly biting his tongue.
The heat emanating from their clothed love making became overwhelming. This was passion that he hadn't experienced in years. He pulled away. Her lips were swollen and her eyes closed. He leaned back into her, his face flush with hers as his raspy voice wafted into her ear...
"…I know exactly what this is, Michonne," he kissed right below her ear, "And we'll take it slow if that's what you want," his voice was low, "but I hope you won't make us wait for something that was meant to be." The timbre in his voice, the certainty in his words, and the feel of his lips on her face, left every part of her body on fire.
He took the keys from her hand and pressed the button to unlock the doors. He opened her door and then kissed her lips soft and slow.
"Will you let me take you out this Friday?" The low-pitch in his voice sent torrid shivers down her spine. He guided her into the driver's seat.
Her legs were shaky as she sat and placed her hands on the steering wheel, "um, okay," she mumbled, not daring to look back into his eyes. Her gaze travelled down his neck, his chest, and...'Good God,' the bulging outline in his jeans left little to the imagination. She quickly turned her head.
He leaned down and kissed her cheek, huskily whispering, "see ya' soon," before closing the door.
She stilled herself, took a deep breath, and then turned the ignition. The sexually roused television star glanced at her sexually awakened cast mate through the window. He ran his hand over his face and stepped back. Still coming down from the lustful fog; she started the engine, 'Damn, what am I doing? What the heck am I doing? Jeez...the network, the cast, our careers. Shit…I'd better call Mike...and Sasha for that matter.'
She gave him a little wave before driving off the massive cobble stoned driveway, down the long unpaved path, off the Fimbres property, and into the night.
A/N: Thank you all so much for reading. Please let me know what you think. Your reviews truly keep me motivated to keep writing. Two more chapters coming up shortly.
Blessings :-)