"Come on, get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire in the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love."

-Matt Nathanson, Come On Get Higher

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Borrowed Time

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His hand was on hers, his other hand grasping her elbow as she stepped into the tub. The water was hot, but not as hot as her flesh seemed to be. His fingertips whispered against her sides, her thighs, her neck, her lips, but the only thing she could seem to focus on was her still in place underwear.

She glanced down at them, electric blue and decorated with mushrooms. His gaze followed hers.

"Need help with those?"

"Um," she stuttered. Her hands were shaking, and she hoped that Patch wouldn't notice.

He dropped to his knees in front of her. His chest was toned and perfect and too much for Nora. His arm muscles flexed. Those perfect satin lips drifted to the edge of her panties and he took hold of the lace bow there with his teeth.

He tugged them down with his mouth, catching an edge with his curved finger and pulling. He kissed her exposed lower belly.

Patch looked up at Nora, seriousness clouding the lust already in his gaze. "I won't do anything you don't want me to, Angel."

Nora's breathing was coming out in gasps. The look in his eyes was driving her insane. "What I want—" She laughed forlornly.

His tongue flashed out unexpectedly.

"Ah!" She hadn't meant it to be that loud. That was the most amazing thing she had ever felt.

Patch made a noise in the back of his throat, a noise that made her insides burn. He tugged on her hips, pulling her down to the bottom of the bath tub. She quickly obliged, unabashedly spreading her legs for him, even though it bothered her stitches a bit.

His tongue lashed out again, trailing intricate patterns across her most sensitive places, making her shake with pleasure and cry out in anticipation.

Nora wasn't a vulgar girl by any means, but the only thing she could think was a broken string of fuck fuck fuck.

Want to?

She half-way screamed. "Yes!" she gasped, choking on the words and water flowing over the two of them. "Yes, yes, yes."

Something warm and jittery and wonderful coiled in her belly and thighs. "Oh," she moaned at this new sensation. Her legs shook, her back arched, her teeth ground. Nora's hands grasped Patch's wet hair and all of a sudden—

His fingers were in her and she was coming, coming, coming; screaming against his mouth that was now on hers. She was loud, he was trying to hide her noises with his kisses, but she couldn't help it. God, it just felt so good and she couldn't stop and it was him, he was there with her.

She was writhing in his arms, pressing her hips against his own, surprised to feel hardness there.

Do it, please, please, she was whining in her head.

Patch's face was taut and dark with arousal. His hands held her hips in place, while he brushed his miracle erection against her core. "Want it?" he whispered against her skin as he placed a kiss on her side.

"Mhm," Nora whimpered, practically shaking with need. "Please."

He dipped it in a little further, and she squealed and writhed under him, trying to push him deeper. "Please, what?"

"Please fuck me, Patch?" She opened one eye to see if those were the correct words.

He had a smirk on his tan face, his dark hair slicked back and dripping with warm water. The same water flowed over his tensed muscles, dripped off of his rather impressive erection. Nora could see from the corner of her eye that her underwear had settled next to her head.

His eyes were chunks of coal, lit and burning into her when he huskily said, "That works too, Angel."

Without a warning, his not-so-small member was buried as far as he could get it. Nora yelped, a strangled cry of pleasure and pain. She clawed at his chest, and he grabbed her hands and kissed the palms, then her fingertips.

Blood swirled towards the drain. "Ow," she gasped quietly.

So sorry, Angel.

She glanced at him. He was beautiful, lust and worry making him dark. He watched her, face slack and mouth parted.

The things I want to do to you, Nora.

She shivered. The water was getting colder now, but she didn't mind. That wasn't why she had shivered.

"Do them," she moaned.

Slowly, he pumped in and out of her. She was losing herself to the feeling. Absently, she wondered if he could feel anything. He groaned and whimpered with her, and she wondered if he was sifting through her head and pulling out the thoughts and feelings he needed to sustain himself.

Awkwardly, he flipped her over. They slid around the wet tub a bit, but he positioned her on her hands and knees, one leg propped against the side of the tub.

He sunk into her again, slowly and tenderly this time. He peppered her spine with kisses, caressed her hips, and it felt so unbelievably good. She pressed back against him, wanting to swallow his whole body. She filled to bursting with love and desire for all of him, every bit. "Oh, God," she grated.

"Let's hope he isn't listening right now."

But Nora was the one not listening. He was hitting her in just the right spot, so she flung herself back on him as fast as she could. She braced herself with one hand on the tile just above the water faucet and the other in the corner of the tub.

The warmth was back, cascading over her, making her twitch and collapse. Her cries came louder and louder until Patch put a firm hand over her mouth. She felt him in her head, dissecting everything she felt. Angel, Angel, Angel, he was projecting to her. She could feel his love, his adoration, and that magnified the waves of orgasm tenfold.

Her body went lax against the ceramic, the side of her face in a pool of cold water. She felt his erection pop out of her, and then felt him lay beside her. Her eyes were closed, but she felt him watching her. He brushed wet hair away from her face.

I love you, he told her.

A different kind of warmth spread through her chest and her stomach filled with fluttering bugs. "I—"

There was a knock at the door, scaring her. Nora's head popped up.

A white-faced Vee was staring in through the half-closed curtain, cell phone in hand. "Um, um," she stuttered. "Your mom called. She wanted to talk to you before she leaves tomorrow. I told her you were covered in your own shit and had to take a really long, really loud shower."

Nora smacked her face, and Patch burst out in laughter. "Oh. My. God," mumbled Nora.

"Sooo," Vee continued, "did you guys just—"

"Yes," conceded Patch.

"Well, what was it—"

"Wonderful," sighed Nora.

Vee squealed long and loud, her eyes getting inhumanly large. "Oh em gee, I totally have to tell Rixon that you guys just did it in his shower."

"Vee!" Nora complained. "Wait—"

She had already bounded off, her blonde curls bouncing behind her.

"Nora, are you okay?" Patch's face morphed from euphoria to fear.

She looked down. Blood seeped from her stab wound, leaking through the stitches there.

"Crap," she said.

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Cold shower, anyone?

Maybe not.