Coffee and Classics
Hey guys! This is my FAVORITE chapter, and I think it will be yours too. Thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favorites! Let me know if there's anything you are hoping to see in the upcoming chapters! I would love to hear your hopes and ideas!
CHAPTER ELEVEN:
"GET THE FUCK UP! IT'S TEN O'CLOCK, BITCH!" I sit up abruptly, startled awake by Johanna's shriek. Peeta groans and pulls me back down to the bed and next to him. He smiles at me; a big toothy, nose-crinkling smile and kisses me once on the nose. When he starts planting wet kisses on my neck, my fury at Johanna fades quickly. Peeta moves on top of me and begins to kiss down, over my collarbones, past my bra and down my stomach. When he reaches my bellybutton he dips his tongue inside and I shiver. Eventually he reaches the top of my white hipsters. That's when I realize what he's going to do. I freeze, and try to close my legs. But Peeta stops me.
"Don't be nervous, Katniss. I want to return the favor. You've done it to me, and I'm been dying to do it to you." His blue eyes are piercing and filled with lust, as he licks right above my underwear.
"I've never—I mean, no one's ever—"
"I know, baby. I understand your nervousness. Just let me try it once, and if you don't like it, I'll never do it again." The conviction in his voice makes me unable to not let him try. It scares the fuck out of me, but everything I've done with Peeta has, and it's all turned out quite well. I nod once, blush beet red, and throw my arm over my eyes, unable to watch.
I feel Peeta slowly peel off my panties, and hear him gasp slightly. I throw my arm off my eyes and look down my body at him.
"What?" I ask, embarrassed and worried.
"When did you get waxed?" he asks, and I blush again.
"Yesterday, after dinner. Johanna made me. Is it bad?"
"Not at all," he murmurs, his voice husky and low. I pulse in response. Peeta parts my thighs and grips my upper left thigh with his left hand, pressing it to the bed. He looks up at me once, and then slowly pushes his right index finger into me, and curls in upward. My throw my head back and I moan at the sensation. Peeta begins to slide his finger in and out of me, and I clutch at the sheets, panting. When he slips in a second finger, he leans in and closes his mouth on my clit and sucks. I throw my hands over my mouth and moan loudly. I've never felt anything so amazing in my life.
Peeta's tongue darts out of his mouth and he licks my bundle of nerves again and again and I continue to moan and groan. Suddenly, he withdraws his fingers and replaces them with his tongue.
"Oh Peeta," I pant as my hands leave my mouth and curl into his tousled blonde locks. Peeta's hands move to cup my bare ass as he continues to impale me with his tongue. "I'm gonna—"
Peeta switches his movements and shifts back to my clit, and begins to circle it with his tongue and I explode. My fingers pull at his hair and I moan his name gutturally. My orgasm goes on and on as Peeta continues to circle my clit, until eventually the aftershocks fade. My body is covered in a thin layer of sweat and my muscles feel like jello. Peeta crawls up my body, planting kisses along the way, and when he reaches my face, he smiles broadly and pulls up the covers, so I'm no longer exposed.
"I'm falling for you too," I say, remembering what he said a few days ago. His blue eyes glaze over and he smiles so big as he lifts his left hand to cup my face. He kisses me softly, and it feels as if a slow burning fire spreads under my skin. The door is thrown open, causing us to break apart.
"Didn't you hear me?! It's now 10:26 p.m. Prim left for school a billion years ago, and our class is starts is a forty-five minutes!" Johanna is dressed in my robe that normally hangs on the back of the door in my bathroom—her hair wet from a shower. She starts roaming through my dresser, looking for something to wear, and I roll my eyes.
"Johanna, our class was cancelled today and Friday, remember? Our professor is visiting his daughter in Phoenix or something." I say to her back. She stops her movements.
"Oh yeah. I forgot. Well, I guess I don't need any of your clothes." She opens my robe and drops it the floor, revealing her naked body. Peeta and I both cover our eyes and she laughs wildly. "You guys are such prudes. Did you hear Gale and me last night?"
"Yes. We heard you." I groan. "Now please put some clothes on."
"No thanks, I'm good." She says, her voice completely unashamed. "God, he is good in the sack. How many chicks has he banged? He knew exactly how to get me off. And his dick, God, I can practically come just thinking about how long and thick it is. I can't believe you never slept with him."
"I've never seen Gale as more than a friend. He's practically my brother. And please do not talk to me about his junk. It makes me want to barf."
"I second the barfing," Peeta says. We all laugh and I hear Johanna walking out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
Finally, I take my hands off my eyes and look at Peeta. He winks mischievously at me and leans down to my ear.
"I wanna make you come again," he whispers, his left hand moving down my stomach and cupping my sex. He slips two fingers inside and kisses me deeply. I moan, never wanting him to stop.
"God she was so tight. And she's got a mouth like a Hoover—ow!" Gale groans as my fist connects with his bicep. He rubs his arm, glaring at me, then picks up his fork and continues shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.
Peeta, Gale and I are eating dinner together around my kitchen island; Prim is staying with her fox-faced friend Ellie. And I called her parents twice to make sure. Peeta decided to cook steak and mashed potatoes, and they are simply mouth watering. He tried to get me to help, but every time I started to do something, he commented on how sexy I looked and started to suck on my neck. Needless to say, we didn't really get much done—so he did it on his own while I sat on the counter and watched. Watching his hands work was practically foreplay.
"Please don't talk to me about having sex with Johanna. We already had to hear go on about your junk this morning, while she was naked, I might add, and I don't want to hear any more. The stories about the floozies you pick up that I don't personally know are fine, but there are boundaries Gale. I don't need to know the details of my friend's vagina."
Gale scoffs and turns his gaze to Peeta. "So you saw her body? Nice, huh?" I punch him again and he lifts his hands in surrender. Peeta smirks at the two of us.
"Honestly Gale, I wasn't paying attention. When you have a shirtless Katniss a foot away from you, everything else seems to fade away," he reaches for my hand and wiggles his eyebrows. My heart flips but I glare slightly at him. Fucking compliments.
Peeta and Gale laugh together. "Good point," Gale concedes. "I've never see her naked, but I'm sure it's a glorious sight. I bet her boobs are just—fuck!" This time Peeta punches Gale in the arm. A look of pain crosses his laughing face and he shakes his arm, trying to lessen the pain.
"Don't talk about my lady like that, Gale. I will have to kick your ass." Peeta's voice is slightly laughing, but his eyes are anything but. Gale smirks and nods, and collectively they chuckle.
Boys.
After dinner, Gale decides to leave, but turns around to face me after he walks out the door.
"Can you give me Johanna's number?" He asks, shoving his hands in his front pockets and looking to the ground. Wow. A shy and nervous Gale. I turn back into my apartment, rip off a corner the newspaper that lies on the kitchen island, and scrawl her number on it. I walk back to him and hand it to him.
"Be good to her." I say. He nods curtly and turns to walk down the hallway. I watch him leave before edging back into my apartment and closing the door.
Peeta is cleaning up and I quickly run into the kitchen and take the plate out of his hands. He looks at me confused, but I just set the plates on the counter and push him to the couch in the living room.
"You cooked, I'll clean. Just relax and pick out a movie." I say as I walk back to the kitchen. I clean the kitchen thoroughly, and in fifteen minutes I walk back to the living room to where Peeta kneels next to our DVD rack. When I sit on the couch, Peeta turns around and shows me the case he has in his hands.
"Back to the Future? Okay, whatever you want." He smiles and puts the DVD into the machine; he comes back to the couch and sits next to me, his arm falling around my shoulders. We watch the movie, laughing and commenting like we've been together for years.
It's pitch black when the credits roll and my eyes begin to droop. Peeta turns off the lights and TV and pick me up, carrying me to my bedroom.
"I wanted to pounce on you, but I'm so tired," I say as he pulls down my sweats. He just chuckles and shakes his head. He removes my Green Day t-shirt and pulls the covers over me; he tucks me in tightly and turns around to my dresser.
"I'm gonna take a shower, baby. I'll be right back." He takes a clean pair boxers out of drawer that has basically been designated as his, and moves out of the room. I hear the shower turn on, but drift off before I hear it turn off.
I wake up to a painful groan. I flip onto my left side to see Peeta thrashing around; his bare chest is glistening with sweat.
"Stop, don't. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." He shouts into the room. "Mom, please don't. No!" Ice runs through my veins. His mom? What the fuck! Violently, he begins to kick and shake.
"Peeta! Wake up! Peeta, please!" I yell, kneeling next to him on the bed, shaking his shoulder. Peeta's arm flings out and hits my stomach. The wind is slightly knocked out of me, but I try to breathe, fighting it, and continue to shake him. Now, I'm practically screaming. "PEETA! I NEED YOU TO WAKE UP. IT'S JUST A DREAM."
Peeta's eyes open and his thrashing ceases. Pain covers his face and he's completely drenched in sweat. He looks at me, and his eyes are brimming with tears.
"It wasn't just a dream," he whispers to himself. Quickly, I jump out of bed and run to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in cold water. I run back to him and find him about to break. I hop back on the bed and begin to wipe the sweat on his chest. As soon as I start my movements, Peeta erupts in sobs. Loud, earth shattering sobs. I'm startled, but I push away my fears and continue wiping, placing soft kisses on his chest and mumbling words of reassurance. Once I'm done with his chest, I clean his arms, and then finally his face. I hold the washcloth to one side of his forehead and look into his eyes. His crying has lessened slightly, but his chest still jumps and tears continue to stream down his cheeks. I place the hand not holding the washcloth on the other side on his forehead, my thumb tracing his scar. His blue eyes haunt me—looking so unbelievably full of misery.
I lean in to plant a quick kiss to his stubbly jaw, and then move back and continue to look in his eyes. He places his left hand on my bare knee and takes a shaky, deep breath. I don't want to push him to speak, but I'm so curious to know what's running through his head. Who hurt him so bad? Was it his mom? Did she leave this scar? When will he be ready to tell me?
After a half an hour, his weeping has completely faded and I see a dead look take over his eyes. "I'm so sorry Katniss, I never—" he starts, but I cut him off.
"No, Peeta. You don't get to apologize for this. You did absolutely nothing wrong." I wipe his face one more time with the washcloth, then lean over to place it on my nightstand. I cup both my hands on his face and begin to press kisses all over it; his nose, his chin, his cheeks, his forehead and finally, his scar. Peeta's breathing falters and pull back to look into his eyes again.
"My Peeta," I whisper, my thumbs skimming back and forth on his cheekbones. Peeta's arms reach up to pull me to his chest; I bury my head into his neck and listen to his slightly accelerated heartbeat. After a few minutes, I hear his breathing become deep and steady, and I know has fallen asleep. But I'm wide awake, replaying what just happened with Peeta over and over in my head, unable to understand a second of it.
I sleep on and off the rest of the night, never sleeping for more than fifteen minutes at a time, and when the clock reads 9:12 a.m. I can't go back to sleep at all. Peeta has me squeezed to him, him on his left side and me on my right; my arms are folded against his chest and my head is buried in his neck. Around 10:00, Peeta begins to wake up. I snuggle closer to him and he wraps his arms even more tightly around me. Minutes pass, and then Peeta breaks the silence.
"I grew up broken," Peeta begins, pulling back to look into my eyes. I stare back, and wait for him to continue. "My Dad was always at the bakery, leaving my Mother to look after me alone while my brothers went to school. And she hit me." He takes a deep breath.
"And she touched me." I freeze, and then fury rips through me. Never in my whole life have I ever been this angry. HOW DARE SHE!? When my parents died I felt indescribable sadness. When everything happened with Cato, I felt indescribable embarrassment. And now, I'm feeling indescribable rage. Peeta sees my eyes flame, but indicates that he's not done with a shake of his head. "I was eight when my Dad figured out about the beating, and when he confronted her she picked up a frying pan and knocked him out. And then she turned to me. She gave me my scar that night." He moves his hand to his forehead and rubs it.
"When my father came to, he saw me bleeding, my forehead split open and my left leg broken. He threw my mother out of the house and we rushed to the hospital. Literally, we patched up the wounds, but the scars remained for years. And they obviously still do. It wasn't until I was thirteen that I finally told my Dad about the touching. He hired a private investigator to find my mother, and when he did, her called her and yelled at her for hours, screaming and crying into the phone." He breathes deeply again. "A few days later, the police called and told us that my mother had committed suicide. I thought I would feel sadness, I mean, she was my mother. Or maybe happiness, because maybe she got what she deserved, or something, but all I felt was relief. She couldn't hurt me or anyone else anymore."
"The nightmares are about her. I relive all the things she's done to me. It makes me want to die, Katniss. I've been through years of therapy and tried a billion different medications, but the nightmares have never seemed to fully fade away." His eyes suddenly burn with something else besides sadness. "These past two weeks with you was the longest time I had gone without a nightmare. And I wish you didn't have to see me like that." His hands begin to rub up and down my back.
"Katniss, when it happens again, just do exactly what you did to me last night. No one's ever made me feel that cherished, and it meant the world to see you stay with me. Because I know how you must have wanted to run away. But try not to. I don't know what I would do if you ran away."
Peeta's confession has me feeling a million emotions: sadness, anger, pity, despair, relief, happiness, guilt. But the only thing I can verbalize is the first thing that pops into my head.
"I don't ever want to run away."
