A/N: Another M rated chapter (27) of One More Night. I will not post this chapter with the story, as I would like to keep the story rated T. Speical Thanks To Richonnelover1941
I was released from the hospital that night and the next day was New Years' Eve. Jessica invited us all of out to the New Year's Eve celebration at the resort. None of us had anything else planned so this was probably the best thing to come our way.
The short village strip leading up to the resort was like a winter wonderland; small stores and cottages were aglow with Christmas lights and old-fashioned lanterns standing on ornate back poles lined the street. We pulled up out the front Blue Ridge Ski Resort. The changes the resort had made since I'd visited last surprised me. Mind you, that had been over a decade ago. But the façade of the building had been updated, the old rendered cement facing now a tasteful mix of stonework and timber. The shuttle pulled up under the tall porte-cochere and a tuxedoed valet opened the shuttle door.
"Damn, this place got fancy," I whispered to Glen who nodded back at me as we climbed out of the bus.
"Gregory sunk a lot of money in here a few years back when that new resort up the road got built. Hilltop Inn is now Blue Ridge Resort, a premier luxury ski resort. The inn is now a banquet hall and boutique."
Milton was lingering in the foyer greeting guests as we walked in together and he strode over to me, a broad smile on his face.
"Michonne!" He swept me in a hug and then shook Rick's hand. "So, pleased you both made it. You look stunning as ever." He complimented me while handing Rick an envelope.
He directed us to the main ballroom, which had never hosted a ball as far as I was aware but often hosted weddings and parties. The room was lit up with warm orange-red lighting and the impressive cathedral ceiling showcased some lights display. Pale purple and blue patterns spiraled around in time with the beat of the music, which emanated from large speakers and a DJ booth on stage at the far end of the room.
Rick whistled as he took in the room and the hundreds of people who filled it. We went straight to the bar and I ordered him a Hilltop Special, which was basically a Whisky Sour with a liberal dash of orange bitters and a wedge of lime.
"A few of these and I'll be flat on the floor," I said, choking on my first sip. It was stronger than I remembered.
"Ah, just how I like you," Rick said with a leer. I socked him in the arm, reminding him he'd have to be the one carrying me back down the mountain. We made our way through the crowd looking for our friends and I felt a strong hand at my elbow.
"Michonne!" It was Aaron and he was grinning ear to ear. "Can't believe you're up and about again so soon."
We embraced briefly and Aaron introduced us to his girlfriend Erica Raleigh, the curly-haired blonde I'd seen from the photo in the ranger station. She immediately asked me about Noah, apparently having heard about him from Aaron. Being a veterinarian, Erica started gushing about the breed. So, I got my phone out to show her a recent photo of Noah playing in the snow with Beth out the front of the cabin. I promised to bring him in for his yearly vaccinations, which were coming up.
"So, you've known Aaron a while now?' she asked as she took a sip of her wine. Her eyes were wide and doe-like. I tried to guess her age, it had to be no more than her late-20s.
"We go way back. He was my boss once upon a time."
"I hear he was quite the teen heartthrob back then."
"He told you that?" I said with a laugh, and she nodded, laughing too. "Well, he's not lying." I looked to the men next to us, Aaron was retelling the story of how he and Ranger Debra Wheeler found me on the mountain. Rick's lips were pinched shut as Aaron was described finding my belongings strewn down the side of the rock face. I reached down and took Rick's hand, which he gripped tightly.
"I'm not sure what an acceptable thank you gift is for savin' my life, Aaron," I said. "But I'm pretty sure I'm in your debt for now and forever. Debbie's too."
"Think nothing of it," He winked. "Although… Having said that, I wouldn't mind a batch of your famous snickerdoodle muffins."
"Consider it done. I'll make you a batch every week indefinitely if I didn't think your girlfriend might complain about your belt-tightening."
"How's the novel going?" Aaron asked Rick after I arranged with Aaron to drop off some baked goodies to him at the station later through the week.
"Nearly finished the first draft," Rick replied, finishing the last of his drink and taking the empty glass from my hand. "Ahead of schedule. Though, I had a little help." I felt the prickle of alcohol warming my limbs... And the prickle of something warm and fuzzy in my chest.
"Great job, man. Can't wait to read it. So, then - what next for the great Rick Grimes? What're the plans after the lease runs out up at your place?"
I felt my smile freeze in place, and I slowly released Rick's hand. Erica touched my elbow lightly and asked me a pointed question about what I did for a living. She shared a short sympathetic smile with me, sensing my discomfort, and I turned my shoulder to the men so I wouldn't have to see Rick answer.
I was pretty sure he was leaving, but it hadn't been discussed. I think the both of us had been avoiding the topic, not like it wasn't easy with everything else happening in our lives... and to be honest, I didn't want to talk about it. It was easier to ignore. I liked the non-state of our relationship. I liked that we were committed but not. That there was no logical pattern to us. We were the perfect vacation fling. Stay together in the bubble of our honeymoon phase until distance pulled us apart - rather than stay together until one hurt the other and we break up. Or worse still, stay together and marry. Marriage was a risk I didn't ever want to take again. It chewed me up and spat me out the first time. And I was at my limit, I couldn't survive the loss of another loved one. I wouldn't survive it.
I briefly explained my profession to Erica and answered her polite questions; when I turned back around, Rick had gone. Aaron gestured to the bar and I nodded in understanding. I left the couple and decided to wander, as best I could, through the crowd and soak up the atmosphere. I collected a glass of champagne from the free bar as I made my way through the crowd.
The music pulsed through the room, the bass traveling up through the bottoms of my boots and I sunk down into a chair at the edge of the room to people watch. I spotted Spencer and Rosita up on the dancefloor, practically grinding on each other. I'd yet to see Glen and Maggie since I lost them at the entrance. I caught sight of Jessica, hanging off the elbow of a tall dark-haired man and she spotted me immediately, sashaying across the room. It was hard to miss her, dressed in a long-sleeved sequined mini dress in rose gold.
"Michonne! You look fantastic!"
I laughed in disbelief; she looked like she was stepping off the red carpet and had a team of people help style her. Me? I hadn't bothered buying anything specifically for the night. I was still wearing whatever was easy to get in and out of. I'd 'dressed up' in a white sweater dress, black leggings, and my white sequined Ugg boots. I hardly compared.
"Thanks, Jessica. You look stunning."
She sat down on the empty seat next to me and grimaced, lifting her arm to pinch at the side of her gown.
"I'm glad we can move forward now, Jessica..."
"I've wanted to do that for quite some time Michonne. I'm so glad I can finally talk to you about it now. I was always in awe of you. In fact, you intimidated me for the longest time."
"You're kidding," I said, wrinkling my nose.
"No lie. You always knew what was up. I looked you up on Facebook a few times over the years. You've always had this determination to you, you knew which direction your life was meant to go and you just went for it. And I've just always…" She lifted a hand, wiggling her fingers in a wishy-washy gesture, her bejeweled ring catching in the light. "Just floated from one thing to another, trying to find my place."
"My late husband used to say family and friends are like fudge," I said once we'd taken a sip, "mostly sweet with a few nuts."
Jessica burst into a peal of laughter, and the dark-haired man I saw her with earlier started giving her a sexy stare-down from across the room.
"I think your date's waiting for you."
"He's not my date... At least not yet." She stood and walked, hips swinging, across the room towards the man - before suddenly veering off at the last second towards the dancefloor. His startled expression was comical and he took off after her with a greedy sheen in his eyes. I had to laugh at her wiles. She had her act down pat.
I craned my neck and saw no sign of Rick at the bar area, though I did see Phillip, whose seething gaze seemed to cut across the ballroom straight to me. I finished my drink and a gust of icy wind blew past as party-goers walked in off the balcony. I took that as my cue, getting to my feet as gracefully as I could muster and slipping out through the still open door.
Outside, the temperature was frigid, but the alcohol was warming me slowly from within like a pot-bellied stove. I leaned on the balcony staring down the mountain towards the twinkling lights from town. It was pretty. But I felt disconnected from it. From the party inside too. The crutch didn't exactly help. Normally, I'd be tearing up the dancefloor, having the time of my life.
I thought of my own home. I knew for sure what Morgan would be doing right now. Carol put on a Cajun pig roast every New Year's Eve. Drinking normally started early afternoon, and it would get wild by midnight. You'd be considered lucky if you didn't fall asleep or pass out by the countdown, stuffed with booze and food. Right now, Morgan would be shooting the shit with his best friend Ezekiel and the rest of his friends. I thought of my empty home in Atlanta. With its tropical palm garden, the huge deck Daryl had built for summer cookouts, the empty bedrooms for our non-existent future kids…
Rick appeared beside me and handed me a flute of champagne.
"I've been looking for you."
"I didn't really think through the logistics of tonight," I said, knocking the toe of my Ugg boot against the crutch. I accepted the champagne and threw half of it back with one mouthful.
Rick retrieved a hotel key card from his pocket. "We have lodgings for the night in his premier chalet. If you're over the riff-raff we can go and check out our new digs."
I took the key card and turned it over in my hand and finished the champagne with a second mouthful and it clattered against the wooden railing when I sat it down.
"Well, if you're ready to call it a night then I'm sure we can rustle up a case of Michelob and some dirty sweats somewhere around here." I pretended to squint out into the darkness. Rick chuckled and settled against the railing next to me.
"They say the way you spend New Year's Eve is the way you spend the rest of your year," I told him, handing the card back.
Rick looked unconvinced. "Who says that?"
"I don't know," I said, waving a hand around. "They."
"Sounds stupid."
I snorted in agreement, but it came out more like a hiccup gone wrong. I was half-way drunk.
"You know where I was this time two years ago?" I said.
"Tell me."
"Barbados."
Rick raised an eyebrow.
"Daryl wanted a holiday to 'reconnect'," I added air quotes. "He'd been promising Barbados since we were boyfriend and girlfriend, so we booked a week off and went... Then three months later he was dead. Stupid," I spat. "That saying is stupid." I started out into the dark and I had the overwhelming urge to just scream and scream and let it all out.
"But did you reconnect?"
I looked at him sharply and to my surprise, I felt a genuine laugh bubble over. Trust him to only focus on that aspect of it. "Did we reconnect?"
"Yeah, did you guys reconnect on the trip?"
"You're a trip, you know that?" He just smiled, waiting for an answer. "Yeah, we reconnected. It didn't solve our problems. You can dress a shit-sandwich all you want, but at the end of the day it's still a shit-sandwich."
Rick laughed long and loud. "I don't think that's how that saying goes, Michonne."
"Oh, shut it now." I socked him playfully on the shoulder, but he grabbed my fist, pulling me in for a kiss. It was rough and deep, with my fist somehow ending up clinging to his sweater, and his hand groping my backside. He pulled away, eyes glazed and I was left dazed, panting. He traced his thumb over my bottom lip and my heart clenched, unexpectedly. I loved and hated how much of an effect he had on me.
"Let's dance," he said. He handed me the crutch all the while ignoring my protests and then somehow, we were inside and, on the dancefloor, the crutch abandoned on my cold seat. I moved awkwardly at first until the beat of the bass swept me away and, thank the Lord for alcohol, my foot (still strapped to an inch of its life) was pain-free as we swirled and boogied away.
I saw Jessica move past us, arms wrapped around her dark and handsome beau and I thought I might've heard Maggie's screeching laugh above the music. When I stumbled, Rick caught me by the arm and lifted me until my legs were wrapped around his waist, and my arms around his neck. He danced me like that for the rest of the song until I thought I was going to bust a stitch laughing.
Two more dances and two more whiskey cocktails, we stumbled our way through the resort grounds with the bottle of Christal I insisted we order over the bar. We located our chalet and I flicked the light on, letting out a whoop as I took in the room.
"Daaayuummm," I drawled, crutching my way in. I tossed the crutch onto the armchair and limped over the gas wood fire, cranking it all the way up. I fell back onto the couch with a flourish and a moment later Rick handed me a small tumbler with a snifter of Christal and bounced over the back of the couch to join me with his own glass.
"This reminds me of a French chalet I went to once with an old girlfriend."
I paused mid-sip. "Is Rick Grimes sharing with me his romantic history?" I pretended to pinch myself and he scowled.
"I was 21, still a kid." He finished his whiskey in one hit and stared thoughtfully into the bottom of the glass.
"And?" I prompted. I swear sometimes - this man! It was like drawing blood from a stone. I grabbed the bottle and topped his glass up.
"And... she was 19. She used to tell people she was descended from English royalty, but as far I could see, she was just a royal bitch. I was just happy to be getting it regularly." He waggled his brows suggestively.
"Sure, have a type, don't you?" I said, thinking about Andrea. "Bitchy," I explained.
"You're not my type." His eyes darkened and my heart quickened.
"No, I'm not." I finished my drink and set it down on the floor. I climbed across the lounge in what I hoped appeared seductively, then straddled him. Rick's brows lifted and he threw back the amount I poured him in one mouthful. I took the glass from his hand, letting it drop onto the rug and opened up his jacket, running my hands down his chest. I pushed him back onto the couch and he hit the cushions with a bounce. I slowly unhooked his belt, his eyes tracing the movements of my hands as I carefully released the top buttons of my dress and opened it up slowly for him, revealing my white lace bra. I wriggled the bra down till my breasts popped out, exposed. His jaw went a little slack, eyes trained on my chest as I trailed my fingers across my breasts, winding slow circles around my nipples until they puckered, "I'm definitely something else altogether," I said.
My head swam, and I knew I'd pay for it tomorrow morning, but right now I couldn't give a damn. "I'm different, aren't I?" I asked innocently as I slid a hand down the length of my stomach, unbuttoning the rest of my dress as I went till it was all the way open. His affirmation died on his lips as my hand traveled further down still, passing along the bulge in his pants, stroking and squeezing gently, causing his hips to buck. A hiss of air escaped between his teeth.
"Michonne…"
"Shhh," I hushed him, placing my finger to his pouty lips.
I undid the top button of his jeans. Next, I slowly worked the zipper down. I kept my eyes trained on him, my free hand still squeezing and massaging my breast. I stood and let the dress fall from my shoulders to the floor and peeled off my leggings, tossing my bra toward a dark doorway I thought might be a bedroom.
I tugged his pants down freeing his well-endowed manhood and straddled him again, this time completely naked. I leaned forward, greeting him with a kiss, before sliding myself deliberately slowly along his straining length.
"Ohh, Michonne, you are so beautiful." He moaned my name again, grasping my breast and I shifted forward so he could kiss and suck my nipple.
My hips traveled lazily, back and forward coating him with my arousal, all the while he bucked listlessly under me. When I could bear it no longer, I slid along once more and, on the way, back, twisted slightly to catch him at my entrance. I sunk the tip of him inside me. We groaned simultaneously and I pressed myself further until we were completely joined. We rocked and moved against one another and I leaned forward to brace myself either side of his head, the both of us watching as I lifted and lowered myself onto him, the two of us joining over and over again. His hand moved between us, rubbing slick circles against my clit until I felt the crest of something wonderful looming.
"I'm so close." I gasped. "Please, honey, don't stop… Don't stop." My eyes squeezed shut and he captured me in brief, hard kiss, hoarsely urging me to open my eyes. My lids sprang open just as I came crashing down, my orgasm ripping through me, our eyes locked, bodies joined, and my heart feeling like it was on the precipice of some great unknown plummet.
Rick flipped me onto my back, swinging my good leg over his shoulder and he thrust hard back into me, pressing wet kisses down my calf.
"Ohh, Rick!" I cried out his name as I felt the beginnings of another climax closing in and Rick picked up his pace, his erection straining within me, filling me in a way that felt utterly complete. Oh god, I could barely... It was... I grasped for anything to hang onto. The couch cushion, the armrest, my sanity. He pounded into me, again and again. I was practically sobbing as my next orgasm hit me like a freight train, he pounded my quivering flesh without abandon and he came hard with a cry, my name passing through among a string of explicit utterings, his release throbbing deeply within me. "Oh fucking, God Michonne...Ohhh!" His hips finally stalled after we gently rode through the aftershocks together.
"Oh, hell to the yeah!" I cried out to the room, tilting my head back to see the ceiling and flopping my arms back over the end of the couch.
Rick pressed a soft kiss to my calf again before gently lowering my leg. "Is it that good for everyone?" he asked, his accent more prominent than I'd ever heard, the words slurring into one another.
"Just for us, baby." I grinned.
He leaned smiling broadly and gave me a kiss. "Wait here, my love. I'll be back."
I wolf-whistled at his cute little-naked behind as he sauntered off to find a bathroom, and he smacked his ass and wiggled it for my benefit. I giggled, sitting up a little. Then, doing away with the glass entirely, I took a swig directly from the Christal bottle. I felt like I was ten years younger again.
I waited a while and managed a few more swigs. I sat up then used my panties, which had somehow torn in the process of coming off, to clean myself up a little. I got to my feet and limped around the chalet taking in the impressive amenities. The room was fancy, at least five hundred per night fancy. It was like my cabin had a baby with Rick's, with its modern smooth oak finishes, instead of the bumpy logs. The gas fire was a rectangular standalone feature in the middle of the room, the plush living space on one side, a dining on the other, and tall floor to ceiling windows at the end, dressed with sweeping white gauze curtains, pulled elegantly to the side.
I made a lap of the chalet and gave up waiting. Water was still running from the bathroom and Rick was taking his time, so I crutched to the bedroom, flicking the lights on and off, calling out to him, before I caught sight of the clock. 11:45 pm. Shit, we nearly missed counting down to midnight!
"Rick?" I called out again. No answer. I pushed the bedroom door all the way open, nearly tripping on his sweater and shirt. Steam was billowing from the crack in the sliding door to the bathroom. There was no sound from within other than the steady spray of water hitting tiles. Fear, like an icy thimble, traveled down my throat and I hurried to the door, sliding it back with an echoing slam.
My heart froze. He was slumped across the shower floor. I nearly slipped over the tile getting to him, my crutch clattering to the ground. His cheek lay flat against the dark tile near the drain, eyes closed.
"Rick?" I cried shrilly, patting his cheek. "Rick! Wake up!"
He mumbled incoherently. I plonked back onto my ass and drew a huge shaky breath in relief. Whoa, my brain went to morbid places in times of perceived crisis. With the next inhale, I recognized the sour pang of vomit. I wiped shower spray from my face and managed to chuckle. Well. At least I wasn't the only one who'd over-indulged tonight.
I stood and got the temperature just right in the shower and reached up on my tip toes to point the rain shower head onto his body, rinsing him off. I wound off the faucets and dried him down as best I could.
"C'mon hot drunk," I said, pulling him up to sitting.
"Nooo…Feel sick," he moaned.
"Well, why not feel sick in a California king on Egyptian cotton, rather than the cold shower floor."
I huffed and puffed and helped him to his feet; I wasn't sure who was supporting who, but we managed to cross the floor. He practically fell into bed, a trail of water following us from the bathroom. I snorted as I assessed his unconscious form. Well, guess I'd be seeing the New Year in by myself then.
I walked to the bedroom windows and pulled the drapes back. We were situated in a flatter area of the resort, but the view of the mountain was amazing and right in front of us, down the hill. I could also see our hot tub. Bubbling and adorned with fairy lights, steam curling skyward.
I unwound my soaked bandage and tried my foot, it was feeling pretty good actually; so, I walked out, stark naked and climbed right on in, Christal in hand. I threw back a few swigs, enjoying the warmth inside and out.