Chapter 6: sweet disaster
Skye
Ward lets me kiss him once, softly, but he's still holding back from me. I can feel something coiling and tightening inside me, a desire that's about to snap and leave me to bleed if he keeps me at arm's length a moment longer. The aching need I have for him to take me over is like nothing I've ever experienced before. I'm not this girl, this person made desperate by love, or at least I never have been before.
Now all bets are off. I don't know how Ward does this to me, and I don't even care anymore.
"How about you trust me?" I suggest, intertwining our fingers. I know he might fear giving in to the force that keeps drawing us together, and that he's had so little affection shown to him in his whole life. Lost and adrift, Ward keeps telling himself he shouldn't take the life preserver I offer.
"Just let go," I urge him soothingly, and finally he returns my embrace, pressing his lips to mine warmly, his broken soul reaching out to me. I can breathe again.
Warm quickly turns to hot and before I can collect my kaleidoscopic tangle of thoughts, I'm lying beneath Ward and our hands are all over each other in a delicious frenzy of seized-upon taboos. Everything I told myself we'd never do because every modicum of logic and safety ought to stand against it? That's what I want, all that and beyond, over and over until I finally feel satiated...which, judging by how I feel right now, could be never.
I pull off his gray cotton t-shirt and run my hands over his overwhelmingly perfect body, which is marked by all kinds of scars I can't begin to imagine the myriad origins of. It breaks my heart and makes me cling closer to him, wanting to leave him in no doubt of the depth of my feelings. The last remains of the commitment phobe, love fearing, keep-it-light part of me are drowned by the deluge of emotion Ward sets loose in me. I feel freer now than I ever have in all my years of sweet, sugary and wispy flirtations with boys who would never be able to find this fragile, longing strain within me. Free in the expression of this love for Ward that is so forbidden on almost every level, a love that could quite literally destroy me.
Under my touch, the arms in his muscles tense and he says my name in a low, throaty voice that makes me dizzy with arousal. I sit up and he unbuttons my shirt with a painful slowness I can just barely handle. As he undoes the clasp in the front of my bra, the undergarment falls from my shoulders, one more lost remnant of my defenses against him.
I want him to stop torturing me.
"Don't be careful with me," I whisper as he trails his hand down my thigh, "Show me what you want."
"That's not going to be a problem," Ward murmurs back, and from the heated press of him against me, I know he's not lying, even if he is still teasing me.
I find the button of those dark washed jeans of his, the ones I've been admiring on him for hours, and urge their swift removal. Ward reciprocates by flipping me over and holding me there with the gentlest, yet somehow most insistent touch of his hands on my wrists. Now I'm actually panting a little bit, completely held in thrall by his every move. As Ward's mouth moves from the sides of my breasts to my back, I shiver at the tantalizing promise of his exploration…and then he peels off my leggings.
I need to look him in the eyes so badly that my move to turn over comes out jerky and aggressive, leading us to lose what's left of our bearings to the extent that we roll right off the bed and land on the floor.
Shocked by the impact, I wince, "Ow!" Ward laughs infectiously.
"You always have to have what you want, when you want it, don't you, Skye?" Ward lifts me slightly so that I'm half-lying with my back against the bed. He hovers over me with a sexy smile full of implications that make my head spin. "Is this how it's always gonna be with you?"
I grin back and wrap one leg around him, returning his challenging look with one of my own. "Absolutely," I assure him.
"Good," Ward replies, raising my other leg to lock around his hips as every remaining boundary between us crumbles helplessly, never to be seen again.
Ward
I fall asleep afterwards, and it's the longest, most deep and peaceful sleep I've experienced in…longer than I can remember, actually. I'm jostled awake by a loud, enthusiastic knock at our door, and as I sit bolt upright in bed, Skye glances at me nervously, her leg strewn across mine as she flips through mission files.
"Who's that?" Skye mouths, her lips still a little swollen from the thousands of kisses we shared, making me want to grab her and start all over again. Annoyed that we can't stay in this paradise of isolation, safe from the demons of reality, I climb out of bed and throw clothes back on. Except my shirt. Let our guest be left with no mystery as to the closeness of my relationship with Skye. Serves the slimy bastard right after the way he was eying her up at that party.
"Jeffries," I mouth back to Skye, and out loud I shout, "Be right there!" in an overly chipper tone. I've just got time to run to the bathroom and brush my teeth before our Hydra contact becomes impatient.
Skye slips her clothes back on and looks a little sheepish at our being caught in such an intimate scenario by not only a stranger, but a criminal and an enemy. I've learned to take my moments where I can get them in this life, so I back her up against the wall for a quick, deep kiss, enjoying her breathlessness as we part. She swats at me playfully in admonishment for this delay in answering Jeffries, and I wink at her shamelessly.
"Jeffries!" I proclaim, opening the door and ushering our host in. He's all decked out in a spotless white summer suit and matching hat. Skye's right, Jeffries does look like a villain from an Indiana Jones movie. "Thank you for the charming…accommodations," I say, and my flirtatious glance back at Skye makes her flinch at my bold attempts to goad our very best frenemy when we ought to be buttering him up.
"I'm so glad you're both comfortable," Jeffries replies, unbothered, helping himself to a seat and removing a folder from his briefcase.
"Are those the plans for the library?" Skye asks, intrigued by the prospect of finding the secret passageway where the all-important book is hidden.
"So they are, my inquisitive little minx," he says, swiping a finger down Skye's cheek, then laying the papers all over the table. I'll give Jeffries this much: he refuses to take a hint. Looking at the blueprints and intricate guide, we can see the route that will take us to the book, and all of the tiny hidden locks that must be undone to get in, as well as the traps that'll probably be hell to overcome.
"I hope you two do well with water," Jeffries observes, wheeling one of those absurd little travel cases that people feel the need to drag with them through airport lobbies and placing it in front of us. Inside, there's a bunch of very high end scuba gear. Skye grins.
"You bet we do," she assures him, lifting a wet suit from the case.
"I thought I could guess your size rather well," says Jeffries, letting his eyes flit between me and Skye in a snake-like manner. Which one of us will be more offended or amused by his comments? It's a game he clearly enjoys, but I'm too restless and irritated to humor him.
"We'll be down there at closing time," I promise as Jeffries makes to leave. "See you afterwards at the rendezvous point." Not, I add silently.
"Remember," he charges us, "You must keep the book completely insulated on the way back. If so much as a drop of water touches it, the tome will be rendered utterly useless, and so will our efforts. Needless to say, that goes for the fire, too." The fire? Before I can voice my surprise at this detail, Jeffries bids us a merry farewell with a hearty "Hail Hydra."
"Hail Hydra," Skye replies convincingly, and I follow suit, impressed with how much her acting has improved…and maybe a little scared by it, too. It was bound to happen: I'm having a negative influence on her. She's getting to be better at lying.
Once Jeffries is gone, Skye keeps going through the supplies and the plans, carefully thinking out our approach. "You're looking forward to this," I remark, sitting down at the table and leaning down to meet her eyes as she sits cross-legged on the floor.
"Looking forward to cracking a crazy-complicated code to access a chamber no one's maybe been in for centuries, a room almost no one knows exists, one that we have to swim through totally sketchy water underneath an ancient library to get to? All to steal something from Hydra that they consider more than worth that amount of work? Oh, hell, yes." Skye's optimistic energy lights her from within and does the same to me the longer I look at her. I guess she's having an influence on me, too.
"Don't forget the fire," I remind her, infusing the words with sarcastic enthusiasm.
"I know, what the what, right?" She asks, still focused on the items she's sifting through. Totally unfazed. Then she looks up and catches sight of the worry in my eyes.
I wrap my arms around her tightly as she climbs onto my lap, a move essentially guaranteed to get her into more trouble. "Are you trying to get my attention?" I ask jokingly.
"What gave you that idea?" Skye asks with a beautiful smile that shifts to a questioning look. "Ward…what are you thinking?"
"That I wish we could just run away and never come back. Be together forever. Not have to give it all up in a matter of hours, when I'll be back under lock and key. If we survive this mission."
"I wish that too, in a way," Skye admits. "But we can't solve our problems by running away." At my amused expression, she adds, "I know, I sound like a cheesy self help book. But we can't. SHIELD matters. What happened won't fade away no matter what we do. And what's happening now…that tells me there's a way for you to start over again the right way. Show the team that you're on their side now, and that you can change. Then we can be together for real, without losing anything else."
"I already have changed," I assure her, tracing the curves of her face.
"Great," Skye answers confidently, trust and conviction glimmering in her eyes. "Prove it. Let's get ready to go."
Author's note: the title of this story and the chapter titles were inspired by songs from the albums Perfectionist and Trouble by Natalia Kills.