Hello, lovely readers! Aaaand we're back!
Please check out the end for some additional notes. :)
i just wanna make you laugh
i just wanna see that smile
babe, we're only here, oh, for a little while
i just wanna hold you till we fall asleep
i want love i want us
i want you i want me i want peace
O.A.R., "Peace"
Gemma was waiting for her in Tara's office with a hand on her hip. "Longest pee in history," she said.
Olivia shrugged a shoulder. "I had a lot of water earlier."
She eyed Olivia up and down with a shrewd set to her mouth. "Nice hat," she said at last.
"That's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about." She took it off and shook out her hair. It tumbled to her shoulders and Gemma's mouth fell open.
"Holy shit. What'd you do? Hack it off with a fuckin' knife?"
"Ha. Funny you should say that." She flicked her fingers. "It's a long story and I'd rather not get into it right now." She reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of shears. "Think you could help me get it cleaned up? So at least I can show my head in public before I make it to a professional."
Gemma let out a long breath and took the scissors from her. "Yeah," she said. "I'll give you the number for my girl, too." She gestured for Olivia to have a seat. "Be right back."
Olivia waited, her nerves taut and stretched, until Gemma appeared again. She had a hospital gown in her hand. "Makeshift drape," she said and wrapped it over Olivia's shoulders. She frowned at her head. Walked in a circle around her. "You wouldn't happen to have—?"
Olivia held up a comb.
"Perfect." A silence fell, and for a long time the only sounds were the snip of shears and the whisper of hair against cloth. "So," Gemma said at last, "you gonna tell me what's on your mind, or just make me stand here and guess?"
She decided it might break the ice if she confessed something of her own. "Juice cut my hair," she said. "With a knife."
"Why the hell would he do somethin' like that?"
"Club voted for it," she said, shortly. "I told Nero Juice killed that girl, Darvany, and Nero went to Jax with it."
She paused. "You ratted to Nero?"
She let out a sigh and explained to Gemma what had happened the night before—leaving out the fact that she'd been with Tara when Gemma called. "He'd already spilled most of it. I tried to cover for Jax best I could, but Nero wasn't having any of it."
Gemma made a low noise. Olivia wished there were a mirror so she could see the other woman's face. "I've had a real shit day, baby girl. At least now I know who's partially to blame for it."
Olivia's lips quirked. "I guess you blame Tara for the rest." She cut her eyes up and was gratified to see the flush that spread over Gemma's cheeks.
She resumed cutting after a brief hitch. "Not Tara's fault some maniac broke in and attacked her. You hear what happened to Eli?"
"Uh huh. Goddamn shame. If only you'd gotten there five minutes sooner."
Gemma drew in a deep breath. Her hands fell to land on Olivia's shoulders. She could see the sharp scissors from the corner of her eye, but she stayed steady.
"Way I see it," Gemma said slowly, "we both got a problem. You could tell Jax and the club what I did, but then you'd have to explain how you know. That'd leave your sweet baby boy's ass danglin' in the wind."
She made a face. "Okay, first of all—ew. Don't try to project your Oedipal issues onto me. Secondly, what are you doing with those scissors, Gem? Gonna stab me in the face? Because, really. Wayne and Red both know exactly where I am and exactly who I'm with. It'd be hard for him to clean up after you this time, what with the regime change downtown."
"I'm not gonna stab you, Ollie." She let out a hard sigh and pulled the other chair up to sit across from her. "I didn't meant to hurt Tara," she said. "I was outta my mind. I thought she'd ratted."
"She told you she didn't. Juice told you she didn't. You fucking shot her anyway. You would've killed her if Juice hadn't been there."
She sat back and threw one leg over the other. "Wayne said Jax was going to jail, but he didn't know why. It made sense, after everything, that Tara had ratted him out."
"Gem, come on. If Tara had ratted the whole fucking club would be going to jail. You'd be going to jail. Hell, I'd probably be going to jail."
She held up her hands. "I wasn't really in a logical state of mind."
"Hhmm."
"And I was right anyway: it's all that fucking bitch's fault that Jax is in prison right now. He made a deal for her. So she could take my babies away! He didn't have the right."
"Okay, well, they're not your babies—they're Tara and Jax's. And if you're mad at your son, maybe you should take that shit out on him."
"He never would've done it without her."
"Oh, bullshit, Gemma. Fucking bullshit. Quit lying to yourself. Jax has been trying to distance himself from the club for years. Tara's told me all about it. He never wanted those boys raised in this life. And, look, you may've conned Wendy into thinking you can get her back in Jax's good graces—as your fucking puppet—but nobody else is stupid enough to think that's gonna happen."
A brief tightening around her eyes and mouth was the only sign of how close to home Olivia had just hit. She turned her head away and said nothing.
Olivia leaned forward a little. "What do you think Jax would do to you if he knew you were the one?"
Gemma shot her a vicious glare. "Probably the same thing he'd do to Juice, sweetheart," she said, her voice laced with poison.
She spread her hands in a shrug. "Point." She smiled a little. "I don't want your blood on my hands, Gemma. That's what I told Juice when he offered to turn you in if I asked him to."
Her smile deepened at the look of shock Gemma tried and failed to hide. "Yeah. Another one of your birds leavin' the nest." She paused. "Overall, though, the guys in that club love you. Worship you. I'm not trying to compete with that. I'd lose."
"Goddamn right you would. And if you think I couldn't snap Juice out of his little infatuation—"
"Gemma. Please. Don't embarrass yourself. I know this is a hard concept for you, but sometimes there really are battles you should walk away from."
She sat up and narrowed her eyes. "Listen to me, you smart mouth little bitch—"
"Maybe we could leave the misogyny to the menfolk. I'm prepared to offer you a compromise, Gemma. You'd be smart to listen."
She flicked her fingers as though it were of little consequence to her either way, but Olivia could tell she was paying attention. "You keep the boys until Tara is well enough, or until Wendy's out of rehab—whichever comes first. At such time, you will turn them over to either Tara or Wendy and you will disappear. I don't mean from Charming. I just mean from their lives. They won't see you. They won't speak to you. They will forget your name."
Gemma stared at her. "How is that—"
"I'm not done!" Olivia snapped. "If Tara dies, I go to Jax. Once Tara recovers—which, of course, is what we're all hoping happens—if she so much as gets a fucking paper cut, I go to Jax."
"And what about Juice, Olivia? You gonna let him hang?"
"Juice is my concern, not yours. You try to rat out Juice to save your own ass and it won't be Jax who comes after you. It'll be me."
Olivia's smile turned sweet, but the look in her green eyes sent a chill straight through her. "Your son is as meek as a lamb compared to me. We women have a way of defending our own that men just can't understand."
Gemma lifted her chin and fixed her with a scornful sneer. "You think I'm scared of you, little girl? I've chewed up and spit out more upstart, mouthy cunts like you than I can even remember. You got perky tits, a nice ass, and a big mouth. Ain't nothin' I haven't seen a hundred times before. You're a dime a dozen, baby."
Olivia ducked her head a moment, and when she raised it again she still hadn't lost that sugar-coated little smirk. She stood up. Stripped off the makeshift drape and tossed it aside. She bent down to rest her hands on the armrests of Gemma's chair.
"Gemma," she said in the same mild tone she'd used before, "I think you're not really hearing me. I'm going to clarify for you, because I really don't want your blood on my hands. I meant that.
Her gaze darted downwards. "Enough with the scissors," she said, drolly. She took them from her and tucked them in her back pocket.
"Now. Here's how things are: you are a badass biker bitch. I mean that as a genuine compliment. I respect your willingness to fight for what you love. I appreciate your ferocity. I don't take any of those things lightly.
"What's important for you to understand—what I need you to understand—is that while I do have perky tits and a nice ass and a big mouth, I am like nothing you've seen before. You try to chew me up and spit me out I guarantee you'll fucking choke."
Gemma slammed her hands down over Olivia's and closed the distance between them so that their noses were inches apart. "I ain't scared of you, sweetheart."
"No," she said with a regretful tilt of her head. "I didn't think you would be." She freed herself from Gemma's grip and straightened. "It's a good offer, Gem. The best you're gonna get. I walk out of here, I go straight to County for a visit with Jax."
"They wouldn't let you in," she said, her voice tense with fury.
"You willing to bet your life on that?"
Her eyes shifted away.
"I didn't think so," Olivia said.
"If you loved Juice as much as you think you do you wouldn't risk his life like it was nothin'."
"I told you to let me worry about Juice. He's mine, Gemma, and I take care of my own." Her mouth quirked. "It's something you and I have in common."
"You know those guys who killed Eli?" she said after a moment.
"Not personally, but, yeah. I know who they were working for."
"You don't think the club might care about that little fact?"
"Now you're just making yourself look desperate. Chibs and Juice are telling them right now." She crossed her arms with an air of bored nonchalance. "Anything else?"
"I think you're bluffing."
"Call me on it, then."
She looked like nothing would delight her more, but Olivia knew she wouldn't. It was too big a risk. Finally, with a bitter twist to her lips like she'd just swallowed something nasty, she gave in.
"What happens if Tara wakes up and starts shootin' her mouth off?"
"I'll talk to Tara. Explain our deal. Hopefully it'll be enough. But, look: gamble on that, or take the sure bet that Jax'll blow your fucking head off after I have a word with him."
"I have no control over whether she lives or not," she said, sullenly. "She could be dead right now for all we know!"
"Then I suggest you pray, Gemma. Wear out your fucking knees and cash in any favors you might have with the Almighty, because your life is now completely dependent on hers."
Gemma pushed herself out of the chair and propped a fist on her hip. Her gaze was steady and assessing. "I always knew you were an ice queen, but I had no idea you were such a stone cold bitch," she said with a hint of grudging respect.
"I learned from the best," she said and inclined her head toward Gemma.
She acknowledged that with a brief snort. "I guess we got a deal."
"I guess we do." Olivia grabbed her bag and tossed it over her shoulder. "Thanks for the haircut. You can text me your girl's name."
"I'd watch your back, sweetheart," Gemma said as Olivia opened the door. "Seems like you've pissed off all the wrong people."
"Don't worry, Gem. My back's covered. Is yours?"
She didn't wait for an answer. Her gait was casual and unhurried as she shut the door and walked away, but the second she was around the corner she took off. She slammed into a nearby bathroom and collapsed against a sink.
The metal was cold beneath her fingers as she hung on. She dragged in a series of long, shuddering breaths until she felt her heartbeat start to slow.
"Fuck," she whispered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
She didn't have a hand left to play. She'd laid everything out for Gemma back there, and she was lucky as hell she'd bought it. What would she do if Gemma went against their agreement? Olivia didn't know how to protect Juice, and he was the only person she could trust. He was her only ally. Her only true friend. And he was just as fucked as she was.
She met her own eyes in the mirror. They were over-bright, her cheeks flushed, her hair mussed. She ran her fingers through it and smoothed her shirt. The icy calm that had sustained her all night flowed back like a sweet balm.
She wasn't completely without resources. She still had the dirt on Teddy. If push came to shove she'd take it to the cops and get WITSEC for both her and Juice. Get them the hell out before Jax' wrath could descend from on high.
In the meantime she had to, as Gemma had advised, watch her back. Olivia wasn't stupid; she knew a threat when she heard one. If Gemma went to someone in the club—Tig, maybe, or Bobby—with some sort of I'm so worried about Juice and I think maybe he… type story it might all be over before Olivia could do a goddamn thing.
"One problem at a time," she murmured to her reflection. For now she thought Gemma was in check. Wayne would keep an eye on her, and she seemed to believe that Olivia really would go to Jax given the proper motivation.
But she knew better than to ever underestimate Gemma Teller. She was a survivor, a fighter, and if Olivia took her eye off her it would likely be the last mistake she would ever make.
An hour or so later (she'd lost track of time at some point), Olivia's phone rang. Her brow quirked when she saw the number.
"I hope you're calling to tell me you're on the way to pick me up," she said when she answered it. "This is why I wanted my car."
"Nag, nag, nag," he said. She could hear the smile in his voice. "How's it going there?"
"Oh, fine," she said "All quiet." She locked eyes with Gemma. Gemma looked away first. "How're things in the land of Scoops 'n' Sweets?"
"Could be sweeter." He paused. "They want me to come get you. Bring you here."
She sat up a little straighter. "Why?"
"They want everything you've got on Doyle. To help us find him."
She let out a soft curse. Wayne cast her a questioning look. She smiled at him and moved down the hall a bit, out of earshot. "Juice, I can't give them that stuff. It's the only leverage we have left."
"We?" he said after a moment. He sounded both uncertain and kind of delighted.
"Yeah, doofus, we. You and me, Ortiz. Look, I think I've got Gemma off Tara for now, but I've got no way to keep you safe if she decides to cut her losses and give you up to Jax. Or if she comes up with some sob story—" She broke off. It was too dangerous to talk here, especially over a cellphone.
"And I've got no way to keep you safe if Mick fuckin' Doyle decides he's done playin' bullshit games and comes after you. Liv, we gotta have somethin'. Pictures. Something."
She sighed and scraped a hand through her hair. "Yeah, okay. But it's not like I carry it around with me. It's all at home." And in a secret stash in her car, but she wasn't going to say that aloud.
"We can go there and come back."
"Tonight? Babe, it's late. Can I promise them first thing tomorrow?"
"I can try."
She hesitated. Then, "Tell them to be on the lookout for a guy drivin' a bright blue Bonneville. A sixty-three, I think."
"That's kind of…distinctive."
"He wasn't trying to blend," she said.
"You got a name?"
"Nope. Never seen him before. But somehow I got the feeling—Juicy, those guys who came after Tara today had to be local. No way one of Doyle's crew would run off like that. This guy? He seemed like a pro, through and through. A real hard case."
"Okay," he said. "I'll call you when I'm on my way. Sit tight."
"Not goin' anywhere."
"Good," he said, and she felt the warmth in his voice like he stood next to her and murmured it in her ear.
"Love you, Ortiz."
"I know," he said, smugly.
She laughed and hung up on him.
"Are you asleep?" she said softly, even though she could tell from his breathing he wasn't.
"Not really," he said. "What's up?"
They were lying back to back. It was mid-June, but as usual in this part of California, the night was cool. She'd cracked the window just a bit, and they could hear the lonely, mournful call of an owl from somewhere out in the dark. She reached behind her to rest a hand on his hip, and he caught her fingers in his. Neither of them spoke for a long time.
The club had decided they could wait for her info on Doyle, and he'd come to pick her up at the hospital about an hour after they'd talked on the phone. Once they got home she'd filled him in on her conversation with Gemma, minus a few choice bits she'd kept to herself, and now it nagged at her. She didn't want to keep anything from him, even something that seemed so minor.
"I hope I didn't fuck up today," she said at last.
"Fuck up how? You didn't do anything wrong."
"The thing with Gemma—"
He sighed a little. "It sounds to me like you did the best you could. You were smart to tell Wayne. He'll try to look out for her."
"She's the one who pulls the strings in that relationship."
"True," he said, thoughtfully, "but she listens to his advice." He hesitated. "Did she say—I mean, did she say why—?"
She rubbed her thumb against the back of his hand. "I don't think she—I don't know, maybe I'm being naïve, but I don't think she planned it at all. She was out of her mind, desperate and afraid. It doesn't excuse anything, but I—I can't find it in me to hate her, as much as I think I should. As much as I really want to."
"That's why you're a good person, Liv, no matter what you say."
She gave a restless shrug. "In this case it makes me weak. Gemma Teller can smell weakness like a shark smells blood."
He shifted. "That's—pretty serious."
"We can't bury our heads in the sand anymore, babe. This place is dangerous, and trying to deny it is gonna get one or both of us killed."
"Gemma wouldn't—"
"She would, Juice. After what she did to Tara, out of her mind or not, I wouldn't put anything past her. Desperation is a nasty thing." She paused. "That wasn't—quite what I meant though. About fucking up."
He was quiet, but she could tell he was listening.
"I told her some things about you. About us, I mean. Not—not anything secret. Just—I told her you're mine. She called your feelings for me an infatuation." She imitated Gemma's scornful tone perfectly and felt him tense.
"I told her she was embarrassing herself," she said quickly. "And I said you offered to turn her in if I wanted you to."
"Ah," he said. "Wow."
She winced. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have spoken for you, but—"
"Stop, Liv. She was out line to say that, and I am yours. I just get tired of all the power games."
She snorted. "I know. I do too. I didn't mean to make out like you're some sort of pawn, or a bargaining chip. I didn't mean it like that."
"I know you didn't," he said, his voice quiet. He squeezed her fingers. "You know she was wrong. It's not an infatuation."
Her laugh was soft, an easy ripple. "Of course it's not. There are plenty of things I'm insecure about, but that isn't one of them."
"I—" He broke off. Cleared his throat. When had that happened? Her utter and complete faith in him? She sounded so sure, so…normal. Like they were discussing the weather.
She turned over and spooned against him. Pressed her mouth to his shoulder. "Since coming to Charming I've had a serious head injury and a broken wrist. I've been shot and nearly blown up. I've lost more friends than I have fingers to count them with. My hair was hacked off with a knife. I've had an abortion, which is truly something I never thought I'd have to go through. But, Juice—I'll never regret coming here. No matter what happens."
"Because;" he swallowed hard; "because of me?"
"Yeah, silly. Because of you." She rested her forehead against the spot she'd just kissed. She felt the world spin around her, like she'd had too much to drink and now felt sick from it. Except she was stone cold sober. The thought reminded her of what Gemma had said: I had no idea you were a stone cold bitch.
Olivia hadn't really known that about herself, either.
She wasn't sure how she felt about it.
"Tell me everything's gonna be okay, Juicy," she whispered.
"Everything's gonna be okay, Liv," he said without hesitating.
"Now tell me what you really think."
There was a long, thoughtful silence. Finally: "We're gonna be okay, Liv."
We, he'd said. Not everything. She let out a long breath. But suddenly her stomach gave a loud grumble and the moment was broken. She burst out laughing.
"Was that your tummy?" he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice.
"I'm hungry! You didn't feed me before you put me to bed," she said.
"Ha! It was after midnight, babe. I didn't want you turnin' into a gremlin."
"Hhhmm," she said. Something about her voice made him shiver. She ran her tongue around the curve of his ear and nibbled a little. "Does that mean you won't get me wet, either?"
He flipped over to face her. "Get you wet?" He squeezed her ass. "Baby, I'll get you wet all night long."
"That doesn't even make sense, Ortiz."
"Sure it does," he said and nuzzled her neck. "Want me to show you?"
"Nooo," she said and pushed him away. "I need something to eat!"
He waggled his brows at her. "I've got something—"
She lifted a finger. "Do not."
He laughed and pulled her to him again. "I think there's still some of that spaghetti left over," he said as dropped kisses along the curve of her shoulder.
"I like spaghetti," she said.
"There's ice cream in the freezer," he murmured against her skin.
"Ooo."
He ran his tongue over her collarbone. "Cookies in the cabinet."
"Now you're just trying to get me wet."
He looked up with a wounded, innocent expression. "No, baby! You said you're hungry. I'm just telling you your options."
She brushed her thumb against his mouth. He captured it with his teeth and she giggled. "I do love you, Juan Carlos."
His grin morphed into a puzzled frown. "You need a nickname."
"Juice—! Ollie? Liv?"
"Oh, well, but—I mean, yeah, I guess, but—" He ducked his head. "Never mind."
"Low blood sugar, or a side effect of all the blood to your brain rushing further south?"
"Both, I think."
"Mmm." She pushed him onto his back and moved over him. "I can help you with at least one of those." She dragged her tongue down the center of his chest.
"I thought you were hungry," he said, his voice a little breathless.
"It can wait." She stretched out on top of him and rested her chin on her crossed arms. "If we make it out of Charming—"
"When we make it out of Charming," he corrected with a frown.
"Right. When we make it out of Charming, where should we go?"
"Um. Well, I'm on parole, so I guess we'd have to stay in California."
"Okay." She used a fingertip to trace the light skull's eye socket. "North or south?"
"San Diego's pretty nice."
"Um hum," she said. She flicked her tongue against his nipple. Her mouth curved at the sound he made and she did it again. "La Jolla is great. I'm sure we could scrape up a couple mil and get a real nice place."
"Maybe not south."
"The coast up north is lovely."
He stroked both hands down her back. "How much do those places go for?"
"I don't know. Probably more than we have."
"That—well. That might not be exactly true."
She went still. "What are you talking about?"
"I've been investing."
"Investing? In this market? With what money?"
He rolled his eyes. "Club money, Olivia. And, yeah, the market's shit, but you just gotta now how to play it."
She blinked at him. "I thought the club was broke."
"The club is, but I—that is we, the guys—aren't. We still got our share. The club's just run through all of its share."
"Of the cartel money."
"It was big money."
"Is it clean money?"
He waved a hand. "Mostly. We launder what we can through the garage, the rest here and there. That's Bobby's area, not mine."
"So what is your area?" she said, her brows drawn together.
"Once it's clean Bobby sends it down to these accounts in the Caymans. Then I invest it. For all the guys."
"You're a biker and a stock broker?" She suddenly imagined him in a well-tailored three piece suit and her mouth went dry.
"Don't sound so surprised," he said, a bit sulkily. "It's all just patterns. Game theory, like. I mean—" His shoulders rippled in a shrug. "It's easy. You look at what things've done and you see what other things like it are doing, and you just—pick something."
"Pick something," she repeated. "That easy."
"Well, not easy, exactly. Just kinda…simple. It makes sense to me. It's like when I'm workin' on a computer, you know? It speaks a language I get. When I'm tryin' to hack a password or get through a firewall, I see everything spread out like a map. The stock stuff's the same."
She shook her head in a stunned sort of way. "You're really brilliant, Juicy. I mean, I knew that, but you've gotta stop hiding it. There's no reason to."
His face twisted. "It's not the kinda thing the guys understand. It's too…vague, I guess. Abstract."
She lifted a brow. "Money is the least abstract thing in the world, m'love."
"That's true, if it's bricks of cash. But this is numbers on a screen."
She conceded that point with a tilt of her head. Then, "What kind of numbers are we talking?"
"Ahh…well, I'm a little more reckless with my shit than I am with the guys', so some of them have more than me."
"Yeah, I'm not planning to run away with any of them."
His brow quirked in acknowledgement. "I only got about ten thousand or so cash, in the bank. My portfolio's about a million, give or take."
Her eyes went wide. She sat up fast and smacked him on the shoulder. "A million dollars? You are fucking with me."
"Ow, hey, no, I'm not. I don't know how much exactly because I haven't really had time to mess with it in a few days."
"Juice—you realize between that and the money we can make selling our houses we can actually make a life. We can get a place. Maybe we could buy our own shop!"
He brushed her hair back and smiled at her. "Is that what you'd want to do? Open a shop?"
A blush spread over her cheeks and she looked away. "It's sort of—it's been a dream of mine since I was a kid. I guess it's kinda stupid, considering I was planning to go to college for engineering." She met his eyes again and the dimple appeared in her chin. "Some of my best memories are helping my grandfather out in his shop. He always seemed really happy there."
"It's not stupid," he said. "I think it'd be great."
A slow grin unfurled across her face. "You do?"
"Yeah," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Absolutely." He paused. "I kinda worry we might have trouble selling, though. People aren't exactly flocking to Charming these days. The work you did on this place will make you a fuckton of money, though."
She pressed a hand to her mouth to smother a burst of giggles.
"What?" he said.
"Nothing. I just realized this is probably the most adult conversation I've ever had in my life. Stock portfolios and real estate," she said with a stern expression belied by the sparkle in her eyes.
He rested a hand on her leg and moved his thumb in a circle against the soft skin of her inner thigh. "And to think I could be getting you wet right now."
"Oh you are, baby," she said as she leaned closer to kiss him. "Oooo, stock portfolios. Ohhh! Real estate!" she said in an exaggerated, breathy voice—that was actually just close enough to the real thing to get his attention. "Keep talkin' dirty to me, sugar."
He barked out a laugh and shoved her over to fall beside him. "Shut up, Gable. You're so full of shit."
"Ooo, now my last name! Take me, Ortiz, I'm yours!"
He jumped out of bed, spun around, and grabbed her by the waist. She let out a little shriek as he threw her over his shoulder. He started down the hall and she lifted her head.
"Uh, where are you actually taking me?"
"The kitchen. You need food."
"Okay. Food first, and then the oral sex."
He smacked her ass and she yelped. "Behave yourself, Juan Carlos, or no oral sex for you."
He stopped and slowly lowered her to the floor, letting her body slide against his all the way down. "You can't tease me like that, Liv. It's just mean."
She draped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth and brushed her tongue across it. "Don't pout, baby. Let's go eat some cookies."
"Cookies?" he said and lifted a brow. "How about;" he kissed her neck; "you eat cookies;" slid his hands up to stroke her breasts; "while I;" pinched her nipples through the thin material of her t-shirt; "eat you?"
Her head fell back as he mouthed her throat. She ran her fingers over his scalp. "Mmm," she said, low and throaty. "I like the way you think, handsome. Lead on."
I get tired of writing so much sad/tense shit all the time. I'm rooting for these two crazy kids, and I hate making them miserable. :)
Anyway. Additional notes: on ao3 chapter 38 was different than here. That's no longer the case. I've taken the additional content that was at the end of ao3's ch38 and put it in ch24, both here and over there. If you wanna hop back and read it, be my guest. But it's nothing but smut and nobody likes that.
Also, my notes for ch48 are as follows: "good god what's gonna happen now?"
I have several ideas for things, but I don't know if I'm ready for them to happen quite yet, so, my loves: you know the drill by now. My Muse lives on reviews. And tears, but that's another subject.