By Trilogy
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own or profit in any way from the character's used in this fic. They belong to Marvel and assorted others.
Dedication: For my good friend and awesome beta reader, Stormfreak.
Casual Sex?
It's three a.m. and instead of drifting back into peaceful sleep, I'm sitting on the edge of the bed staring blankly at the smooth wood under my naked feet. I'm stuck here, frozen in indecisiveness. I waver now from the firm resolve I possessed just a few minutes earlier.
I am painfully aware that there are exactly nine steps from the foot of the bed to the door. Only a short landing separates me from the flight of stairs that will lead me to the bed I should be in. Yet I cringe, as I consider taking those steps. Instinct drives me to stay put. I'm too needy right now. Too close to saying out loud what I've buried in my heart. And I know without a doubt that I will voice those things in some way, either with my words or my touch if I get the chance.
I'm sick and tired of the sneaking around. Tired of not knowing where things stand and wondering if this is only about the sex. It has not been for me for a while now.
Groaning softly, my fingers tighten against the raw silk sheets mindless now to their luxurious softness. In my minds eye I am surrounded by images of rough touches on soft skin, fingers gripping mine against these same sheets, tightening with an staccato rhythm against a rising crescendo of breathless moans. Sweat soaked flesh sliding across my own in a timeless dance mingling with the song of our release.
Afterwards, we often lay in silence sharing boneless, soothing touches, relaxing and calming like a cool cloth on a fevered brow. The frenzy is gone and we can both sigh in relief. During this quiet time, only our eyes hold intensity as they meet in dappled moonlight... always tentative, careful not to look to deeply. Perhaps its fear that keeps me from looking to closely and seeing past the desire that's always there. Are we ready to face what lies behind all this?
There are times when our gazes meet outside of the bedroom, when everyone else is around and we are just supposed to be teammates and maybe, friends. Short quick glances when no one is really looking. Longing and aching for just a brief brush of fingers, needing contact, just to reassure ourselves that that strange electric spark still exists. Both of barely able to stand the wait until night falls so we can let that fire consume us once again.
I still cannot believe how no one suspects yet, then again we both are the very best at keeping private things private. We've had this...thing between us for nearly a year now. A thing born first out of loneliness and then lust. I have no idea exactly when my feelings became what they are now. It just happened.
I have no idea when things stopped being casual- in fact I wonder if they ever really were. There has never been anything even remotely casual about what we do together in the dark.
When this started, I firmly convinced myself it would be a one time deal. We both agreed that was all it was the first time it happened. I think we both had more than enough with the games - the stares ... the fleeting, not so accidental touches. The far too frequent, volatile arguments over the most trivial things. But I knew, we both knew, what fueled the heat behind those silly disagreements. And so, we finally agreed. One time. Just to get it out of our systems. Once and for all.
But the moment we touched flesh to flesh, I wanted more. Looking back, I know I never really wanted anything less. I was in love before we ever let this happen, but I was too stubborn to allow myself to acknowledge it. Hard as I hate to admit it, I was too scared to even think it.
I don't have that problem now. I think it all the time. And when I slip inside her, it's nearly impossible not to whisper it in her ear: I love you. Or at that moment when her entire body tenses and she squeezes me so tight that I can't think about anything but shouting it along with my release: I love you. And especially when we lay there afterwards, after finally exhausting ourselves into contentment, the temptation gets stronger somehow to just let it slip. The words repeat like a mantra in my head, lulling me to sleep like a soft lullaby: I love you... I love you... love you....
There is nothing left to do now but get up and get dressed and take those nine hellish steps out the door. If not, I'm going to turn over, wake her up and wind up screwing this up. And I fear that more than anything.
Glancing over my shoulder, I can't resist watching her sleep for another second. Even in sleep she is the most stunning woman I've ever laid eyes on. I could watch her forever. But watching her makes me want to slip back between her silk sheets and her even silkier thighs to kiss her awake.
Instead I force myself to ease my weight off the bed and slip back on the jeans I'd kicked across the room earlier. I wised up a while back and started leaving the shirts down in my own room as they rarely survived one of our nights together. She seems to prefer me shirtless anyway.
I force my bare feet across the cool, tread worn hardwood floor in nine silent steps, grateful that I left my boots downstairs with my shirts. I've been too impatient to bother with putting them on recently and leaving them behind makes sneaking around a whole lot easier anyway. Wrapping my hand around the doorknob I hear a soft sigh from her and can't help but look back.
She's moving to sit up, her eyes on me as the sheets glide off her body. The sight of her causes my hand to fall away from the door, as I let my eyes drift over her honey toned skin. She is my goddess, especially now, with her wild hair, and kiss ravished lips. Her breasts are full and high, the chocolate nipples pebbled and inviting as she stretches, absolutely unselfconscious in her nakedness. My gaze settles on the small, reddened bite on her hip so proudly on display. I know it will fade soon, but for now it pleases me to see my mark on smooth skin. That wayward hand of mine itches to touch her just once more before the sun comes up, to reclaim her.
"You are leaving?" she questions, her eyes looking a little startled and maybe even a little hurt.
I force a small smile. "It's getting late." I say quietly, forcing back the desire to ask if she wants me to stay.
I see a flash of disappointment in her eyes, that is quickly replaced by a playful pout. "You did not kiss me goodnight." she offers with a tilt of her head, like a sullen child.
I grunt inwardly at the playfulness in her tone. Doesn't she realize how hard this is for me? Is she not aware how tempting she looks, all naked and beautiful against ivory silk, with her hair wild from my hands and her skin bathed in my scent. I truly doubt right now if I'd stop with just a simple kiss goodnight. At least not until I'd kissed every possible inch of her. And made love to her again and again.
"I need to go, Ro." I say a little roughly, regretting it the instant I see the coolness enter her eyes.
"Yes, I know." she murmurs, her eyes drifting from mine to some point past my shoulder. Avoiding my eyes. "Have a good night."
"You too, Darlin'." I say, forcing a gentleness I don't feel into my voice. I can feel anger welling inside me. Chilling me. I hate this polite princess shit she pulls on me afterwards. Dispassionate as if we're strangers. As though she was not the same woman clawing at my back and screaming silently into my shoulder as she came a few short hours ago.
Silently, I reach up and open the door, stepping out onto the landing that leads down from her loft. Before I draw it shut I notice that she's got the covers wrapped around her like a cocoon now, as though she's cold. I wonder if her bed now feels as cold and as empty as mine does. Or if , like me, she'll still be up at dawn regretting that she didn't wake up with warm arms around her.
Part of me hopes so. Part of me hopes she'll wake up and realize there is nothing casual about us.
TBC in Part 2