Happy 2024! Wanted to make sure you can ring in the new year with a new chapter ;)
Michie-sunflower - as always thank you for your kind words! really appreciate you sticking with my story and sharing your thoughts!
Rated M scene ahead
enjoy
xoxo
disclaimer: i own nothing
"Are you sure you don't want me to take you to the airport? I don't mind."
She shakes her head as she continues packing her luggage in the bedroom of her apartment.
"No, they're sending a car to take me. And it's in the opposite direction of Stars Hollow. It's okay."
"But you're letting me use your car while you're away, the least I can do is give you a ride," he insists, stepping closer to where she stands folding her clothes.
"Jess…" she sighs and then drops her head forward, "Jess. Honestly…it sounds dramatic but I'm not sure I would be able to leave if you take me to the airport. It's been nice spending time with you this last week. Comfortable. But I'm about to do something difficult and new to me, and I'm afraid I'll try clinging on to this comfort."
Jess listens and looks her over. He thinks about the difficult things she's shied away from in the past. Like Yale and dealing with her miscarriage. And he understands that she doesn't trust herself, and also that she doesn't have time in this case to deal with the repercussions of her own fear. It hurts him a little, but he does understand. He places a hand on her shoulder.
"Okay. I get it, Ror."
She turns her head and looks up at him, chewing on her lip. He sees nervousness and excitement warring in her mind. He squeezes her shoulder and offers her a big, proud smile.
"You're amazing. And you're going to do amazing."
She smiles slightly, "Thanks."
He watches for a moment as she turns and continues to pack her suitcase. He takes his hand off her shoulder and places them both in his pockets. He can tell she doesn't really believe him, and the strength of her self-doubt has him mentally grappling for ways to help her see what he sees. He understands that in her adulthood, her confidence has been shaken by experiences, as well as people. But he doesn't like it, not at all. It squeezes at his heart and inspires fury to think about the world tarnishing her once unshakable belief in herself and others. The number of times she's seen the best in someone only for them to throw it back in her face. And yes, that includes him. He feels a responsibility to bring that youthful faith back to her. And just like that, he knows exactly how to get her there; at least for today.
"How would seventeen year old Rory feel about you working for the New York Times? Going to Morocco for your very first assignment?"
He plants the seed somewhat casually, a tame smirk on his face. She pauses her movements.
"It feels like only yesterday that I was driving that bright eyed, bushy tailed girl around and asking about her future."
Rory's defenses seem to drop as her shoulders relax, and a gentle smile forms on her face as she turns to him.
"You doubted her for a moment, don't forget," she says, but she's not sour about it. In fact, her smile widens at the memory. He grins too and takes his hands out of his pockets and steps closer to her.
"No, I didn't. I told her then, and I'm telling her now:" he places a hand on each of her shoulders, "you can do it."
She bites her bottom lip, but the smile stays plastered on her face much to his relief.
"Thank you, Kurt," she winks at him.
"Any time, Courtney," he chuckles and pulls her into his arms for a strong hug.
"But, you still didn't tell me."
"What?"
"What would my sweet, innocent, little teenage crush with eyes as big as her dreams, say about you accomplishing some of those dreams now?"
"Yours?" she pulls back to look at him, "I was still dating Dean then."
"Please. I had you at Howl. We both know that." he leans in to kiss her lips briefly, "In fact, I seem to remember something from my chapter along the lines of you being "irrefutably hooked" after I vandalized your book. Ringing any bells?"
Her face reddens and she bites her cheek to keep from smiling too hard at that.
"Maybe."
"Definitely," he insists with a strong look, "Now, we've gotten off track. Come on, I want to see you get all fired up. What would teenage Rory think?"
She grins and takes a deep breath, trembling with excitement now.
"She would lose her mind. She would tell everyone."
Jess's mouth stretches across his face in irrepressible happiness as he watches her confidence visibly replenish.
"She would write in her journal about her amazing future. She would scream and…. run around Stars Hollow. She would go to the bookstore and buy travel books about Morocco. She would go to the diner and get you to pour a big, fat celebratory coffee with a side of pom-poms!"
She's beaming, slightly bouncing on her feet now; eyes growing wider with every scene playing out in her mind.
"The pom-poms would be out just for you. Privately. Probably in the form of a free piece of chocolate cake and a nice, smug smirk."
"Smug! Why smug?!"
"Because I knew you could do it, obviously. That's the whole point of this conversation."
She laughs and pounces into his arms. He's caught off guard by the force and at the last second, turns so they land on her bed.
"She would be so proud of herself, Jess," Rory mumbles against his neck. His grin softens and he brings one of his hands to squeeze her neck in agreement.
"As she should be," he kisses her head, then demands quietly, "Tell me that's how you feel now. Please."
She pulls her head from his neck to meet his eyes. They are dark and full of need, like his meaning in life is to get her to see her own worth and it's hinging on this moment. Like if she mentions anything that indicates she still harbors even a crumble of doubt, he will spend his existence building her up brick by brick until she gets there. All the whispers of insecurity tugging at her mind and questioning her abilities are suddenly silenced by his eager determination. She is reminded that she told him just a week ago that she trusts him, and with that she is also reminded by how much that means to him. If she trusts him, she has to trust that he's right about her. She tucks away this truth into her heart, so she has it to reflect back on while she's away from him in times of need.
She nods her head resolutely.
"I am. I'm proud of myself."
His gaze softens, and his lips perk up on both sides. He moves his hands to her face to lock his lips with hers. She allows more of her body weight to rest on him, and she presses closer, kissing him deeper. They practically inhale each other until coming up for oxygen is necessary.
"When is the car coming for you?" Jess pants out, rubbing his thumbs across her heated skin. She sits up slightly to look at the clock in her room.
"I have three hours."
He smirks, "Mind if I hold your attention for thirty minutes or so?"
She breaks into an impish grin.
"I'm all yours."
It takes her until her last week in Morocco to have the time and resources to visit Fez. But it worked out because she kept it as a goal, looking forward to it in the handful of difficult times she had on her assignment. Mostly due to loneliness, even with modern technology there is no accounting for a six hour time difference and there is no substitute for the feeling of a sturdy embrace from her loved ones. And because of their busy schedules, whenever her and Jess have had time to talk, they often discussed the manuscripts she helped him with. She is happy to have been able to get him to a better place with his work, but she misses their ramblings about books and music; their fiery eye contact and innuendos. Other than that, she did have various work related hiccups. She handled them all with care and confidence, leaning on Jess's faith in her whenever hers was emptied out.
The hardest challenge at work came the previous week. She received a call from her boss, full of praise and constructive criticism. But then he dropped her next assignment on her, which is conveniently closer to Morocco than the United States. Which means she isn't going home just yet. She will be going to Turkey to report on how the coup the previous year is still affecting the country from a human rights angle. And she's honored to be asked, she really is. But she thought she would at least be going home for a little bit before her next trip. In the end, she of course couldn't turn the assignment down. She knows that as daunting as it sounds to stay away from home longer, it's going to be totally worth it. She only asked that they cover a day trip for her to Fez before she has to leave. And that day has finally come.
She forgets about another three months away from home as she wanders the colorful, lively streets. She smiles because it's just how she had pictured it as a teenager, but even more beautiful. Rather than exploring the desert and nature the city has to offer, she opted for shopping in the open markets because she knows her mom and grandmother will love pictures and gifts from here. Not to mention, she's still not that big into exercise or excessive sunlight. At every turn, she's greeted with vibrant colors and tantalizing smells. She takes in her surroundings and notices the narrowness of everything. It's tight-knit and bustling. She pictures her grandfather's figure. Large, and imposing, navigating these tight spaces. She can't help but laugh to herself at the image. Like a bull in a China shop. Because no, he would not really fit in here. But that was never the idea. The plan was always for her to visit and share all her adventures with him. And she intends to do just that whenever she returns home and can visit his grave.
She eyes a particularly picturesque spot. A bright yellow stone wall between a colorful carpet shop and a fresh fruit stand. She looks around timidly, many people speak English, but she doesn't want to assume. Finally, a young woman walking by makes eye contact with her and smiles.
"Do you want me to take a picture?" she asks kindly. Rory grins and nods.
"Yes, please! If you don't mind. A couple pictures."
The woman nods happily and waves for her phone. Rory opens the camera and hands it over, then positions herself against the wall. She smiles brightly, one hand holding shopping bags and the other in a little wave.
"Thanks, just one more if you don't mind. One second," Rory smiles appreciatively and quickly zips open her bag. She pulls out her wallet and finds the picture of Richard she tucked away before leaving New York. She puts down her bags and pushes her purse to the side. Then holds the picture in front of her heart with both hands and smiles softly. The woman gives her a sympathetic grin, understanding that for whatever reason the person in the picture will never experience this himself.
"Ready?" she asks, holding the phone up again. Rory nods and stands straight, throwing her shoulders back. Trying to harness her emotions for the sake of this stranger and her photo.
The woman takes the picture and hands the phone back to Rory.
"Thank you so much. I appreciate it, and so will my family."
The woman smiles and taps her lightly on the arm, "It is no problem. Whoever is in that photo, I know he must be very proud of you. It takes a special kind of person to travel solo, let alone a woman. You are strong."
Rory exhales through the feelings her words evoke in her. Before she can extend more gratitude, the woman walks away and disappears amongst the stream of people. She gathers her things and heads toward a nearby café. She orders a coffee and sits down, checking the time. It's a little before seven in the morning in Connecticut. She opens her photos and sends off the two pictures in an email to her mom and grandma. She writes only in the subject line "Fez", and in the body of the email "I finally made it. Xoxo Rory." Separately, she emails Jess the photos, and includes a couple pictures of a pretty book store that she found earlier in the day. Her message says, "wish you were here, but don't worry - I picked something up for you. Truly yours, Rory." She sends the email and then looks inside the bag from the book store, admiring the journal she picked for him. The sturdy leather bound covers made her think of him immediately. Then even more so when she picked it up and felt the nearly invisible, intricate designs engraved in layered etches all over it. It's gorgeous with a complexity that is only appreciated if someone takes the time to pick it up and spend time with its details. Just like him.
Her phone vibrates and she looks at it. Her heart flutters when she sees that he replied already. She opens the email and reads, "I wish I was anywhere with you, but there looks pretty good. The picture of you and your grandfather is my favorite though. You are so beautiful and brave, baby. Enjoy every moment in this special place. He would want you to. Always Yours, Jess."
Her skin tingles as she reads his message, and she chews on her cheek. In an effort to try and see what he sees in her, as she often wants for lately, she opens the picture on her phone to give it another look over. When she zooms in, she can see just above her wistful smile, a shining tear drop traveling down her cheek. She gasps slightly; she didn't feel it at all. And for once, she can see exactly what Jess sees; the braveness and the beauty are contrasted right there on her face, between the happy smile on her mouth and the resilience in her eyes. It fills her with confidence and an appreciation for herself. She feels like the world is at her feet all over again like she did when she was younger. Except now she is actually living those dreams.
This time she does feel the small tear that drips from her eye down to her proud smile.
She finds herself in Barcelona in mid-August.
The heat is more unbearable than she remembers it being when she visited with her mom that summer before Yale. Damn global warming, is a thought she has muttered to herself multiple times throughout her stay so far. The sun beats down on her, even at the end of the day, as she walks desperately back to the small studio she is staying in. Her sandals are rubbing her the wrong way, she can feel her supposedly 'airy' blouse sticking to the sweat on her back and under her breasts. She is miserable and dying for any amount of relief and given that her studio doesn't have air conditioning - that amount is going to be very small. She knows from her birth control pills that her period is imminent as well, which adds an extra special gnawing layer of frustration and pain.
On top of her physical discomfort, she is still feeling down from the one single week she had in the States in between Turkey and Spain. It just happened to be a week that Jess had promised to cover the store in Philadelphia so one of the guys could go on vacation. He was needlessly apologetic of course, but there was really nothing to be done to get out of it. They came up with a plan for her to take a train to from NYC to Philly to stay with him a few days, but she ended up spending half the week in her New York apartment alone, with a terrible flu she no doubt contracted in her travels. Then Lorelai came to visit and ended up staying the rest of the time in New York with her. She couldn't bring herself to turn her mom away in order to see Jess, and with just getting over the flu all her body wanted to do was sit around and watch movies anyway. She expected to have longer at home and had even planned for Jess to pick her up on his way back to Stars Hollow from Philly the following week, but then there was unfortunately a violent attack in Barcelona. Her work called and asked her to go, because the person they had covering that area had been relocated months before to Russia for a long-term story.
Her head aches dully and her lower back twinges as she walks up the steps to her temporary home. At the moment, she wishes she had just told her work that she was still sick and then they would have had to ask someone else or at least delay her travels. And then that makes her feel guilty because journalism is her passion, and the work she does carries a responsibility to bring awareness to issues all over the world, especially pointlessly violent attacks. To tell other people's stories in their words. To capture the horrible feeling of grief and anxiety, in a country that's so beautiful it seems impossible they would have to experience such brutal tragedy. What does it matter, in the face of all those truths, that her skin is crawling, and her muscles are cramping and the person that can make these things feel better for her is on a different continent trying to deal with his own issues that are also worse than hers?
She grunts in pure exasperation with herself, tossing her purse and work bag onto the couch with force. The silk of her blouse is irking her beyond belief, and she almost tears its clasp at her neck as she fumbles with sweaty hands to get it undone and off. She releases a small breath as it falls to the floor, then immediately grabs the zipper on her skirt and roughly undoes it and watches her skirt pool at her feet. Speaking of them, those stupid sandals have given her such a bad blister she sees blood peeking out where her pinky toes are. The sight causes her to unleash a loud curse word followed by a huff of disbelief. She balances from leg to leg to take each shoe off and throws them near the trash can. No way she is wearing those again. She looks down at her almost nude self and takes one moment to revel in the way her skin feels like it can breathe again. Then she stalks to the bathroom and begins filling the bath with cold water. Once it's halfway full, she removes her bra and underwear and sinks herself in slowly. Her discomfort melts away with each minute, and she sits in the freezing water until she is on the verge of shivering. She finishes with a quick shower.
Resting on her bed in just a towel, she hears a ringing coming from her phone and laptop. She takes her time inching off the mattress and steps over to the couch to get her laptop out of her bag. She smiles genuinely for the first time that day as she sees that it's Jess video calling her.
"Hi! This is a nice surprise," her energy shifts completely seeing his face. Her eyes sweep over him, his camera just far away enough that she can see from his chest and biceps up. His dark hair is handsomely unruly and his face is covered in a shadow of a beard. Those lips she loves turn upwards completely as he seems to take her in as well.
"I was about to say the same thing. I hope you don't answer just anyone's call in only a towel."
She blushes and looks down realizing she's practically naked.
"So far, just you," she replies with a teasing smile.
He chuckles, "let's keep it that way. Make a guy feel special."
"'When are you going to get it through your pretty little head that you are special to me?'" she replies smugly. Laughter erupts from him chest, caught off guard by her quoting him.
"Touché. I was little harsh, huh?"
She shrugs one shoulder with a small smile, "I needed it then. And it was a little sexy."
His eyebrows lift, "A little?"
"Can't have your ego getting any bigger so yes, just a little."
He chuckles, "Now who's being harsh?"
"Not me! I'm an angel," she bats her eyelashes.
"You sure are," he winks in return, "so how are you, Kelly Garret?"
She laughs, "I hope you don't have any other angels, Charlie."
"None. I only need one," he replies, humor disappearing from his voice. She gets caught up in his gaze, reading the sincerity in his body language. He's reassuring her that it's only them, nothing has changed, even though it feels like their lives have been flipped upside down from earlier that year.
"Didn't answer me though," his smooth, low voice brings her focus back, "how are you?"
She sighs and shrugs, "I'm okay. How are you?"
"I'm okay too," he nods and leans forward slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, "I kinda expected you to be better than okay, being in a place like Spain and all. You loved Morocco and Turkey. No offense to either of them but would think Spain is more your speed."
"I know right," she groans and places her head in her hands, "I'm so ungrateful. This is my dream job! In a beautiful place with great food and history. Ugh."
Jess eyes her kindly, staying silent so she will continue to speak. She uncovers her face and leans back into the couch.
"I don't know Jess. It's really hot here, I'm so uncomfortable all day long. I've been here for weeks already, and the situation is terrible, but I don't think I have a lot more to say about it. Yet I'm supposed to stay at least through the end of the month, if not longer. It kinda feels like I'm being thrown around. I love this job, but this is more time away from home than I expected. I've basically been gone since the end of February. That's seven months! Over half the year. And really it wouldn't be so bad if it was spread out, but I'm going a little crazy and I don't want to say anything because I don't want them to think I'm not committed or anything," she takes a deep breath, trying to calm her exploding frustration, "and did I mention it's hot? So hot, and I don't have any air conditioning. And I'm about to get my period so everything feels fifty times worse. And…Jess, I really miss you. And I'm having a hard time with that too because if I'm missing you like this now, what's going to happen as time goes on?"
He watches her and inches closer to the camera, offering her an understanding smile.
"I miss you too Rory, you're not the only one feeling that way. Believe me, I wanted to flip off the cosmos for putting us in different states when you were finally home for a week."
She laughs softly at this.
"But I don't know what to say to make it better, Ror. Are you unhappy?" he asks quietly, brows furrowed in concern and eyes stuck on hers. She shakes her head.
"No, no I wouldn't say I'm unhappy. I love my work. I really do."
"Good," he smiles in relief, "it will get better. This is just the beginning of your career. Still have to work through the changes. And as much as we miss each other, there's no need to worry about us."
Her face lights up as he speaks, a small grin spreading on her lips.
"Okay. Thank you."
He nods.
"Though I kinda hate that I'm paying for an apartment that I'm never in."
He scoffs, "Right there with you."
The mood sobers immediately, as she takes in his surroundings; he's clearly above Luke's.
"Yeah. How's it going over there?"
Updates on things with his family have been few and far between, but the handful of times he has opened up to her about it have been a struggle for him. Sometimes she checks on him through Lorelai, knowing that he holds back when he's down and dealing with difficult situations. Some reports have been distressing, like him locking himself upstairs at Luke's for days after fighting in the street with Liz. Others have been heartwarming, like when he saved Lorelai a cherry Danish one day because she didn't come by in the morning. Or the night he went to the Inn with Luke to help fix a part of the fence that Cletus rammed into. Lorelai hasn't made even one negative comment about him at all, and in fact has said a lot of nice things about how he is handling his situation. The longing Rory feels to see this clearly budding friendship between her mom and Jess makes it feel even harder to be away from home.
The effortless smile that graces his features surprises her.
"Better. Your mom got Liz a part time job as a host at the Dragonfly's restaurant. She seems to love it and Lorelai says she's doing great."
"Really?" She perks up at this, happy to hear some good news.
"That's great, Jess. Does that mean Liz is doing alright? If you don't mind me asking, I mean."
"She's okay. The last couple months have been nothing but progress. I'm not sure what caused her to finally get some control, but she stopped drinking completely. She isn't smoking anymore, she's replaced that with edibles. But they seem to help her more than hurt so we're not too concerned about that."
"Wow. And how is Doula?"
His grin widens at the mention of his sister.
"She's the same, but definitely happier. Liz is pretty much back to doting mom," he stands up out of view to grab something, then comes back holding a picture, "She finally read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. She loved it. She drew Aslan."
"That's beautiful, even better than the movie depiction," she smiles, but frowns when something in the background catches her eye. "Is that the lamp from your apartment office? And your desk too?"
He doesn't turn around to look at where she's looking, just shrugs.
"Maybe."
"You brought that all the way from New York? How? And why?"
He shrugs, "Needed it."
"For…what?"
"Rory…" he says in a warning tone that she isn't expecting. Her eyes widen.
"Jess…is something going on? It's weird that you moved that desk from your apartment. You realize that, right?"
They stare at each other for a moment. Rory's lips move, wanting to ask more after minutes of silence, but close just as quickly.
"Nothing to worry about," he finally responds, somewhat calming her anxious curiosity. She sighs and nods.
"Okay. I really like that desk."
"Me too," he agrees then leans in towards the camera with a deviant grin, "but I'd like it better if you were here and bent over it."
She gasps, "Jess!"
"Though I do love looking at your face. Maybe on your back instead. Your legs wrapped around me."
"Oh my god…" her face burns bright red, and a pulse builds between her thighs.
"My hands holding tight onto your pretty hips."
She bites her lip at the thought, "I do miss your hands."
"Yeah? Where do you miss them the most?"
She looks up at the ceiling, gathering her courage. She's beyond comfortable with this man, there's no reason she can't speak this way with him. And it has been so long…
"Between my legs," she whispers, wide eyes meeting his hazy gaze. He smirks devilishly.
"Show me?"
Her jaw drops and she stutters.
"I-I don't know. I've never done this before. Not like this. On camera. Live."
His smirk calms into a soft smile, "Relax. I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with. It's okay."
Her shoulders slump and she groans, "I want to do it though. I just…I'm nervous. Plus, I still feel kinda hot and gross. But I want to do this, we should do it because -"
"Baby," Jess interjects in a lulling voice, "It's okay. How about we work our way up to it? We can get off video and text instead for today? Maybe send some fun pics to each other?"
She fidgets at the thought, but not uneasily.
"Would you be comfortable with that?"
She lowers her gaze and nods demurely, "Yes. That would be better."
"Okay," he grins, "and if you aren't feeling it, say so and we will stop. No judgment or questions asked. Promise?"
"Promise," she nods swiftly, "maybe I need a safe word."
His grin widens, "I think that's a great idea. What will it be?"
She thinks for a moment and then gives him a wicked grin.
"Hemingway. The biggest turn off I can think of."
He rolls his eyes and laughs, "I change my mind, you're the devil in disguise."
She bursts into a loud hearty laugh at that, leaving a wide, youthful smile in its wake. The look of satisfaction on Jess's face tells her that this is the level of comfort he was waiting for, and his demeanor switches to desire.
"So, we try some dirty texting. You have a safe word. Promise you'll use it if needed, right? I'm not there to physically coax my sexy siren out of her shell, and I don't want her uncomfortable and closing up on me forever."
She giggles at the visual of her hiding from him in a clamshell, "I promise."
"Good girl," he croaks with a wink, "talk to you soon."
She hangs up with an excited grin and takes a deep steadying breath.
Before she has the chance to overthink how to start their conversation, she receives messages from him. She bites her lip as she clicks on a picture of one of his hands resting carefully against an obvious erection in his sweatpants.
-We miss you, inside and out. The tingling between her legs increases, and she reads his next message.
-Remind us how you feel?
Her pulse quickens at the thought of spreading her legs and sending him a real picture. He didn't send her anything quite of that nature, why would he expect that so quickly?
Suddenly another text comes in, And this is why we have a safe word…I don't mean for you to send me a picture - I just realized how that sounded. What I do mean is for you to touch yourself and tell me how it feels.
She sucks in a breath, and she presses her legs together for some relief. She smiles slightly, feeling comforted that he's not such a natural at this either.
Can you do that for me, baby?
She quickly types out a yes to not leave him waiting. Then she gets up and walks the short distance to her bed. She reclines back on it, then slowly peels the towel from her skin. Leaving it underneath her body; having it touch her gives her a false sense of some modesty. She watches as she trails her fingers from her chest to between her thighs. She timidly traces her lips and closes her eyes, thinking about what Jess would do to her if it were his hand. She moans softly as she dips into herself. Opening her eyes, she picks her phone back up.
-So wet. Soft and warm.
-Mhmmm I remember now…and so pretty and pink. I love watching it take my fingers. Tell me, how many do you have inside you now?
-Just one. It's kinda tight
-That's because I didn't get to give you your orgasms before you left for Spain. And I owe you some for the additional months you've been gone. Sorry baby. I promise your kitty will be getting plenty of exercise when you get back (I would say the P word, but I don't want to scare my siren away with vulgarity. I know she's a dirty girl, but she's also a classy lady.)
She grins wide at his words, grateful that he's not only taking the reins but keeping it light and fun. She forces out thoughts about how different this was in the past with Logan.
-The P word? The only P word I know is penis ;). Now tell me about yours.
-That was smooth, little siren. It's fucking hard as a rock thinking about you touching yourself for me.
-Are you touching yourself for me?
-Yes, beautiful. Of course. I'm stroking it just like you would. I wish there was a way for us to trade hands.
She laughs out loud at that, while continuing her lazy touches between her legs. Another message comes in from him.
-Add another finger for me, and pump until you reach that spot inside you, the one that makes you lose your mind when I stroke it with my fingers.
She doesn't even need to think about it, she immediately does as he says and the need within her builds higher.
-God, yes. You know just what I need.
His response is quick, -Always.
Then - Now, press your palm to your clit and move it while you finger yourself.
She does as he says and curses at the delicious feeling of it. Looking down at her middle, she thinks that Jess would really appreciate the sight. Bravely, she opens the camera on her phone and takes a tasteful picture from her perspective; all he can see is her arm and her wrist leading to the apex of her thighs, which she has perfectly pressed together to hide her hand. She sends it and continues playing with herself until he responds.
-Christ. I need to be between those legs. I'd kill just to be the blanket on that bed right now.
His words drive her pleasure on, and she picks up the pressure of her movements. He messages again.
-I can just imagine the sounds coming from between your legs right now. I want to hear it and feel it and taste it. Lick it all up until you scream and tremble around me.
Now she's breathless and so turned on her body aches. She grinds against her hand and shoots a quick text back.
-Jesus, Jess. You have a dirty mouth.
-Yes I do. And my dirty mouth wants to devour you until you come apart all over it. Then I want to light you up with this:
A picture comes through of his hand clearly on the base of his bare dick. It spurs her on and she knows she's close.
-Oh my god, yes Jess. I want that inside me right now. I wish I could sit on it.
-Shit Rory, you're so fucking sexy. Are you close, baby? Because I am.
With shaky fingers she texts back, -Really close
-Good. Put your phone down, touch yourself with both hands and think about me until you come.
"Fuck," she groans out loud at his words and then throws her phone on the bed and does as he says. She uses her newly available hand to rub circles around her clit, while pumping two fingers in and out of herself until she slams into her climax. She quivers through the end of her orgasm, then leans back all the way on the bed with a satisfied huff. She waits another minute, wanting to give him enough time to finish himself. Once her breathing evens out, she picks up her phone and calls him.
"You're amazing."
She laughs at his greeting,
"I was kinda calling to say the same thing to you. That was…much more enjoyable than I expected. You made it great."
"Really? I'm glad. I still feel bad about when you sent me a dirty text and I didn't reciprocate. I was nervous I ruined sexting for you."
She giggles, "Sexting? You sound so hip and young. You didn't ruin it for me, and even if you did, you just completely revived it."
"High praise from the sex kitten."
"Jess," she laughs, "seriously. You made it comfortable. And you make me feel so…desirable."
"You are. I desire the fuck out of you. Almost constantly."
She closes her eyes at the depth and the tone of his words.
"You're so intense sometimes."
"The way I feel about you requires it."
She places a hand on her chest to calm its swelling at his words.
"I miss you."
"Same here, Rory. You feeling better?"
She scrunches her face up, having completely forgotten that she was feeling crappy earlier. He blinded her with lust and pleasure. Her features calm and she smiles contentedly.
"Yes. Thank you for the words and distraction. And the sexual satisfaction."
He chuckles, "Any time. What time is it there?"
"It's only seven at night, but I think I might fall asleep right now. I finally feel cool and relaxed."
"Good. Sweet dreams, Rory."
"Bye Jess."
...
The next day is much better. She handles her work with determined focus and a pep in her step. There is enough of a cool breeze at the end of the day on her walk home that she stops at a bar nearby to sip a sangria outside and eat. She takes in her surroundings with a calm breath, appreciating that her work allows her to see not just the bad in the world, but the good that coexists with it. She takes pictures of the beautiful street, her meal, and even a selfie and sends them off to her mom and Jess.
She finishes at the restaurant and walks the few streets over to where she's staying. As she reaches the top of the steps, she sees a large vase of pink roses and blue flowers outside her door. Her heart soars and she smiles wide, quickly approaching them and opening the card.
Rory,
I hope these make it to you. Cesar helped me order them from a florist in Barcelona so if it's screwed up, it's his fault.
The flowers should be the same blue as your eyes and the pink of your lips.
I wanted to send chocolates too, but they would have melted. Instead, I sent you money to pick yourself up something to help with your cramps and cravings. I know that's not as romantic but please humor me and spend it and send me a pic of what you get. I want to make sure you're taking care of yourself. And Rory…
"In case you ever foolishly forget, I'm never not thinking of you."
Yours, Jess
She smiles so hard her lips hurt. She holds the flower arrangement to her chest and inhales deeply. She quickly opens her door and places them on a table inside, then she locks up again and finds the nearest shop to complete Jess's gift. After checking out, she speed walks back to her place and places everything on the counter. She takes a picture and sends it to him with a message: the flowers are beautiful, thank you (and Cesar). You made a good day ten times better for me. Do you approve of how I spent your money?
His reply comes a bit later, as she sits in the bath enjoying the gifts from him.
Not as beautiful as you. Chocolate covered espresso beans I get, but bath salts? Sounds like it could be a suicide mission, please be sure to send me evidence showing otherwise.
She bites her lip and laughs.
-You just want a picture of me in the bath, don't you?
-I want pictures of you everywhere. The one you sent me earlier is cute. You looked very European with your sunglasses and your cocktail.
-And don't forget the sweat on my forehead too. Very European.
-Looked like you were glowing to me. Reminded me of being a teenager and how you would light up like the sun when discussing your future. That's why I used to bring it up so much. I would do anything to capture some of that warmth. Your enthusiasm for life made me want to care about mine.
She puts a hand to her chest at his words. Before she can respond, there's another message from him.
-I miss you Rory. I selfishly hope you come home soon.
She swallows and replies, it's not selfish. I want that too.
-I know. This will all be easier someday. I promise.
-I believe you.
-Good. Now please ease my concerns and show me how you're using those bath salts.