Coffee and Classics
Hey guys! Thank you again to all the readers and reviewers! I love reading your comments, and I truly take your critiques to heart. This chapter was the first time I wrote anything even a little bit smutty, so I hope you guys end up liking it. And please, feel free to point out any ways I could make it better, or any opinions on how you think this fic should go! I love to hear your ideas!
CHAPTER SEVEN:
The music at the club is deafening. However, when I tried to cover my ears, Johanna slapped by hands away and told me I looked like a fucking moron. So here I sit, drinking my rum and coke, watching Johanna grind up on some bleached blonde, tattooed, muscle man, wishing I was deaf. Because this music fucking sucks.
Johanna is whipping out her best moves for this guy, and it doesn't surprise me when I see him cup her breasts from behind and begin to massage them. I see Johanna smile mischievously up at him, and I want to throw up in my mouth. Please get a room, or I will kill myself.
Not two seconds after I finish my thought, I see Johanna make her way through the crowd towards me, pulling tattoo guy behind her. I try not to roll my eyes when I see him staring at her ass. Wow, this guy's a keeper.
"We're gonna head out," she screams into my ear. She wiggles her eyebrows at me. "Standing from behind!" I cringe, and she laughs exuberantly as she turns and walks out of the club.
I gather my jacket and book bag and begin to walk out of the club, when a hand clutches my arm and stops me. I look at the figure to see who it is, and find myself looking into the eyes of Finnick Odair. His bronze hair isn't perfectly quaffed like it normally is, but messy with sweat. His green eyes are slightly glassy and it's obvious that he is pretty drunk. His perfectly white teeth are grinning down at me, like the cat that ate the canary.
"Hey beautiful, wouldn't expect to see you here. Not exactly your scene," he yells into my ear, his lips caressing my left lobe. I pull away and look at him with a look of revulsion.
"My friend Johanna made me come," I yell back, hoping to get this conversation over with, and call Peeta to come over. My stomach flutters just thinking about it. This fluttering is starting to piss me off. It makes me feel girly, and I hate feeling girly.
"I'd like to make you come," he whispers, bringing his face quickly down to mine, licking my cheek and the side of my mouth. Fortunately, I turn my face just in before his lips touch mine. Disgusted, I push him away, and glare at him.
"That's enough Finnick. You're drunk and I would never sleep with you sober, let alone drunk."
Finnick's eyes flash with an emotion that looks a little like sadness, but it disappears just as quickly as it came, and they return to their normal state of smugness. "Don't fight it, Kat. It's going to happen eventually." He laughs confidently, then turns back to the dance floor. Effortlessly, he grabs a drunk blonde and begins to grind his crotch into her ass. I roll my eyes, and finally make my way out of the club. When he's sober, he will apologize. Finnick may be cocky and flirty, but he does actually have a heart, and will realize that he fucked up. Majorly.
Once I reach the sidewalk, I turn right and begin to walk towards my apartment, happy that Johanna chose a club only three blocks from away from it. I grab my phone and begin to search for Peeta's number. Prim had come home today from Coffee and Classics with his number scrawled on bookmark, which he had forgotten to give me between the sleeping and the making out. I instantly plugged it into my phone, preparing to call him later. And later is right now, on my way home. Peeta picks up on the second ring.
"Katniss," he breathes—relief in his tone. I smile into the phone, knowing he can't see me. "Are you home yet?"
"Almost, I'm about a block and a half away."
"You're walking home alone? Katniss, that's dangerous," the relief in is tone is no longer there, replaced with concern.
"Yes, Peeta. I've done it before, and I'll be fine. Do you still want to come over?" I ask hopefully, yet slightly annoyed. I'm a big girl, Peeta needs to remember that.
"Absolutely," he says without hesitation. "I'll be over in fifteen. Please be safe, Katniss." He hangs up, and I roll my eyes at the phone. It only takes another minute or two before I reach my apartment door, and shove my keys into the lock.
I open the door and see Prim asleep on the couch, book on her lap, her face turned into the cushion as she tries to hide from the light. I sigh, a smile appearing on my face. She looks so peaceful, not the crazy, loud sister I'm used to. It's a tad refreshing. I must be watching her sleep for quite sometime, because a knock at the door, breaks the silence. I tip-toe to the knock and open it gently to peek my head out. I see Peeta about to speak, so I quickly bring my pointer finger in front of my lips to silence him. I wave him into my apartment, a smile on both of our faces. When he's fully in the apartment, I close and lock the door, then turn to him.
"Can you carry her into her room?" I whisper, pointing to Prim on the couch. Peeta nods and makes his way over to her. He closes the book on her lap, sets in on the coffee table, and slides one of his arms under her knees and the other around her shoulders. He picks her up easily, as if she's a bag of flour, and carries her into the room adjacent to mine. He comes back not ten seconds later, turns off the light Prim was reading by, and walks over to me.
"Hey," he whispers, and leans down to plant a soft kiss on my cheek. I smile and his blue eye light up. Speeding the inevitable, I take his hand and lead him to my bedroom. Tonight, I don't have to strip him down; he lets go of my hand and begins to take off his clothes as soon as we enter my room. This time, however, he takes off his shirt as well. I can't help but stare at his chest. It's muscular, but not overly, and hairless. I pull my gaze away as he pulls down his jeans to reveal his plaid boxer briefs, my cheeks heating. I take off my jeans as well, begin to chastise myself when I realize I'm not wearing anything cute underneath—just come plain grey boy shorts. I turn away from him and pull off the glittery top Prim made me wear to the club, grabbing a cotton tank top from the ground and pulling it over my head. When I turn back to the bed, I see Peeta has made himself at home, the covers pulled up to his waist.
I slip under the covers and Peeta instantly pulls me to his side. He buries his head in my hair and breathes deeply, then begins to relax against me. I turn onto my side, so my front is pressed against his side, my head on his shoulder and tentatively place my hand on his chest. Peeta looks down at me, a smile on his face, and moves his hand to his forehead, pushing back his floppy blonde waves. I look at the scar, and become unable to silence my curiosity.
"Where did you get that scar?" I ask, my hand beginning to rub across on his chest. He freezes. I look up to his face, my hand stopping it's movement, and see pain spread across his beautiful and normally carefree face. I instantly regret my question. The pain begins to disappear and is replaced with cold indifference.
"Let's just go to bed, Katniss," he exhales defensively, then turns on his side away from me and my touch. I see the tension in his bare shoulders, and chastise myself internally. Nice job, worthless. Way to fuck up a good thing. I try to put my hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs away, and I decide to halt my actions. Instead, I bury my head into the pillow, the closest I can get to him without touching, and force myself to fall asleep—my brain full of painful thoughts of someone hurting Peeta.
Again, I wake up from a nightmare-less sleep, surrounded by warm muscles. Peeta is spooning me, his arms tightly wound around my stomach, his front pressed to my back; his chin rests on my shoulder and his hot breath skims the top of my breasts. I want to moan, but refrain, not wanting to wake up Peeta, and not wanting to look like an idiot.
Peeta shifts slightly, slowly waking up from his sleep, and I'm happy he doesn't pull away like he did yesterday. He deeply exhales, and tries to pull me even closer to him.
"I'm sorry I pulled away last night," he whispers, his voice husky, whether it's from sleep or something else, I'm not sure. "There's just shit about my past I don't want to tell you about yet. I mean, no matter how much I seem to like you, the fact is we still barely know each other."
I nod, understanding. This is all happening very fast.
"It might take me a while to fully open up, so just don't run away yet," he says, his voice starting to drip sadness. I want to laugh. Running is my specialty, actually, but I know he is being completely serious. Instead, I turn around to face him, and begin to kiss up his neck and across his jaws, until eventually I meet his lips. I just wanted to silence his worries, but as soon as our lips touch, my mind blanks of intention and hunger replaces it. Peeta responds immediately, as one hand moves to cradle the back of my head, and the other trails down my side to cup my ass. He squeezes it gently but forcefully and passionately thrusts his tongue against mine in my mouth. I moan, and bravely begin to let my right hand wander down his back, my left hand still cupping his face. Eventually, my hand arrives at its destination, and begins to rub his backside with my palm. Peeta moans and I feel his erection against my thigh. This time though, I don't move away, but swiftly move my right leg over his hips.
"Katniss," Peeta whispers as he breaks away from my mouth. "What are you doing?"
"I…" I don't know how to finish my sentence. All I know is that I want to feel his desire for me. So I just press my lips back to his, and swivel my hips into his arousal. Peeta moans again, and the sound causes desire to take over and pool in the junction of my thighs. I grip Peeta's ass even more firmly in my hand and move hips against his again. This time, I'm the one that moans. I've never felt this kind of physical pleasure in my life, and I need to feel it again. Again and again, I move my hips against his. Suddenly, Peeta halts my movements.
"Let me," he whispers against my mouth, slowly bringing the hand that was on my butt across my side, and between our bodies. As soon as his fingers touch the junction of my thighs, I gasp and try to pull away. "Don't." His voice is gravelly and commanding, and I freeze my movements.
"God, you're so wet," Peeta moans, then kisses me passionately as his fingers begin to move in slow circles on the outside of my underwear. It only takes a few seconds until I feel a building of pleasure unlike anything I've felt. Suddenly, the damn breaks, gratifyingly.
"Peeta!" I moan into his mouth, as I climax from the movement of his fingers. Peeta continues the movement of his fingers until all the aftershocks finish, and then places his hand back on my hip. I feel him smile into my panting mouth.
"God, that was hot," he pants, chuckling a little at himself. "And you, moaning my name. I'm pretty sure that was the sexiest sound I've ever heard." I open my eyes to eyes and see his laughing blue ones staring into my lust filled grey ones. I'm too shocked to do anything but smile, my face flushing. I'm pretty sure I've blushed more in the last few days than I have in my entire life. Finally, I glance down between us and see he is still at attention. My eyebrows furrow.
"Don't worry about me, I wanted to do something special for you," he whispers, and kisses me again on the cheeks, then softly on the lips. "However, I do have to say, I also did it for selfish reasons. I really wanted to see you come." He smirks sexily, and presses his lips against mine again.
"I'm so sorry!"
Peeta and I look to see Prim standing in the open doorway, her hand over her mouth, her blonde hair sticking out in every direction. I try to move away from Peeta, but he puts his hand on my thigh, stilling me. I go to glare at him, but he looks at me, then down to his erection and up again, I catch his drift. Definitely don't want Prim seeing that.
"Prim, I'm sorry. We should have shut the door. Peeta and I were just sleeping," I say, doing my best to shelter our private parts from her eyes.
"Yeah, it definitely looks like that," she scoffs, and I glare at her. She chuckles at my expression.
"You can leave now. And shut the door behind you," I spit at her, but she's unaffected by my venomous tone and just rolls her eyes, still laughing, and shuts the door. I listen to her footsteps as she returns to her room and the quiet noise of her door closing before I turn my face back to Peeta. He's silently chuckling. I glance down to see that he's "settled" and move my thigh off his hip. I sit up and I'm about to move off the bed when Peeta stops me, grabbing my sides and pulling me back to him.
"It's Sunday, and I don't have work," he whispers against the skin on my the neck. "And I was hoping to spend every moment of today with you."
The confused scowl I have on my face begins to melt when I turn to look at him, and I simply not my head.
His smile is so big—I can't help but return it.