Author: ballynihinch
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: none
Feedback: Like sunshine in London – rare and always enjoyable! ballynihinch@hotmail.com
Disclaimers: Never have been mine. Always theirs.
Author’s Note: Christine had to make a lot of corrections for this one. My bad!
AN II: Timeline? What timeline? I have no idea what you’re talking about…
TOUCH
He opened the door and smiled.
If he had thought it had been a tiring day, he could only imagine what she’d been through, since she was already asleep, curled on her side. Her shoulder was bare above the bed covers. He briefly wondered if he could touch that one space of skin without her noticing. It always thrilled him to touch her softly when she was asleep. The thought of touching her right now made his mouth go dry.
Stepping closer to the bed, he bent down and blew a puff of air softly across her face until he saw the tendrils of her hair swing lightly in response.
“Are you awake?”
She murmured unconsciously and crinkled her nose in response. He smiled, knowing the coast was clear.
Beginning at her toes, he carefully outlined her body beneath the scratchy wool blanket. He pressed lightly on the material inches away from her form and then let the shape of her very self rise to the fore.
It was a game and he liked to play.
One knee pressed into the mattress; the other leg was planted firmly on the floor. His ankles usually creaked and cracked at this point, but it was a good night—no sounds so far. His forearms were braced on either side of her chest.
A part of him desperately wanted to lie down on top of her and let her generous breasts press up against his chest. He loved the feeling of a woman beneath him. Or on top of him, come to think of it. And he knew that she loved the weight of him on top of her. She had told him so.
Bending down, he drew back the blanket covering her and blew gently along the line of her stomach. He loved the way her abdominal muscles contracted in contrast to the chilly hotness of his exhalations. He nuzzled at the exposed skin, pushing her tank top above her ribs with the bridge of his nose.
He could tell by the change in her breathing that she was now aware of him—but was she still dreaming? It was a question he did not yet know the answer to. Her hands drifted down and settled in his hair, holding his head against her body. He smiled and his dimples crinkled.
“Are you awake?”
“Perhaps,” she answered.
“Do you want me to wake you?”
“Are you offering?”
He smiled again. This time he looked up so she could see the twinkle in his eyes and the sexy smirk that played along his lips. He liked to smile at her, especially when she was in his bed. It made him feel manly—especially with her lying prone beneath him.
“Definitely,” he murmured before losing himself in the soft skin along her neck.
She shifted so that she lay flat on her back and he could settle his hips along her pubic bone.
“Someday this might all end.”
“Why are you talking like that now?” he asked.
“Just thinking.”
“Don’t.” He moved down to her hips and began to taste her skin.
“Don’t what? Think? Or talk?”
“Either. Both. Neither. All of it.”
She laughed softly. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Stop talking.”
“Why?”
“You’re distracting me.”
She lifted his head up away from her stomach so she could look him in the eye. “You need to concentrate to do this?”
“Not really. But I like knowing that I’ve rendered you speechless.”
“Okay.”
He lunged and pinned her beneath him and rocked slowly from side to side so she could feel every inch of him.
“Stop talking.”