Author's website: http://sara-merry99.livejournal.com/
Not mine. Bet they wish they were though.
Mucho mucho thanks to ALM, Arouette and Catyah for incredibly helpful alpha-reads. Thanks to ALM (again) for taming my wild sentences (and and and). Thanks also to Mabin Browne for her excellent beta, about which I was absolutely right.
For the noglove_nolove Safer Sex Ficathon.
This story is a sequel to:
I had absolutely no idea what was going on in Jim's head on our way home from the Santana concert. All I knew was that he was unusually quiet, even for Jim, pensive and so lost in thought it seemed like the outside world was the last thing on his mind. He was sufficiently far gone in the ether that I'd have offered to drive if I'd thought he'd go for it.
I couldn't even begin to figure it out. Something was obviously wrong, but I couldn't guess what it might be. The concert was awesome and Jim had a great time, I could tell. He'd even relaxed enough to join me dancing in the aisle for a couple of songs, which was a dream come true.
But then, during the encore, when the band was playing some really slow, sexy song, he went quiet. That wasn't all that surprising, it was a romantic song and Jim isn't a gushy romantic sort of guy. The couple in front of us were plastered to each other, too; his hands were all over her ass, her tongue was down his ear. It was turning me on, but that shit just makes Jim uncomfortable. Things got strange, though, when Jim's quiet continued all the way through the drive home.
It was making me crazy that I couldn't figure out what was going on in his head. I'm good at reading Jim; after all I've been studying him for a couple of years. Studying him as a Sentinel, sure, that's where things started with us, but studying him also as a friend and, frankly, as the love of my life. I've gotten good at keeping that last part close to my chest, though.
On my own, I'd never have told him that I love him. Part of loving someone is being kind to them, taking care of them, and it would have been anything but kind to burden Jim with that knowledge. I still think that's true even knowing what I know now. Because he would have felt uncomfortable with me and kept himself at a distance. That would have made him feel guilty, both for not loving me and for hurting me by pushing me away. Not kind. To either of us.
It was enough that he knew I wanted him. I was damned sure of that. How could he not? He's a sentinel, able to smell my pheromones and musk, to hear my heart beat, detect fine shades of dilation of my pupils. All of those must have been screaming since almost the day we met that I found him attractive and desirable. It was the big pink elephant in the living room that we just weren't talking about. If he wasn't going to bring it up, I sure as hell wasn't. And I wasn't going to make the elephant even harder to ignore by telling him I loved him as well.
Once we were home, I tried to make things as normal as possible. It was all I could do. I dropped my keys in the basket and toed my shoes off under the table by the door. Setting my backpack down on the table, I turned to head toward the kitchen. Jim was standing very, very still near the door. His eyes were closed and his shoulders were tense, like he was standing at attention, but he didn't seem angry, exactly, just intent on something. Thinking.
"Hey, man, you want a beer?" I asked softly. I was trying to respect his need for whatever was going on in his head, but man, I wished I could read his mind. He didn't answer, so I got one for myself.
I had barely gotten the refrigerator door closed when I turned to find Jim standing in front of me, almost touching me but not quite. He was so close that I had to crane my neck back to see anything other than his chest, perfectly shaped for me in the tight black tee-shirt he was wearing. God, he was magnificent. He was breathing hard, through his nose, and I couldn't tell if he was trying to control his temper or trying to scent something. He cocked his head and took another breath, deeper this time and slower. His nostrils flared. Definitely scenting. He looked down at me with burning eyes. "You want me?" he asked and his voice was incredulous. Incredulous, but not angry.
I don't know what I was expecting from him, but it sure as hell wasn't that. Apparently we were going to be discussing that elephant after all. I took a bit of courage and hope from the fact that he didn't seem mad, put the beer on the counter unopened, and said, "Yeah. I always have. You didn't know?" Honesty's always the best policy with Jim, if for no other reason than he's more accurate than any polygraph test at spotting lies.
Pink stained his cheeks as he flushed a little, but he didn't look away. "I couldn't think about it." He leaned down to me, sniffing at the base of my ear, for just a second before standing again, looking more flushed. "I've never let myself."
There was still no sign that he was angry, so I took a chance. I leaned toward him, keeping just a millimeter of air between us, tilting my head so my hair fell away from where he'd just been sniffing my neck, and said, "Are you going to let yourself notice now? Or do you want us to keep ignoring it?" My voice wasn't as steady as I wanted it to be, but it was the best I could do.
"I can't not notice it now. I can smell what you want, feel your fingers where you touched my arm ten minutes ago, hear your heart going crazy. It's all over." Before I could panic at that, he sniffed again then reached out and gently caressed my hair. He took a curl between his fingers and just held on. His gaze fixed on my face, flickering all over, before stopping on my mouth. He licked his lips, then said, like he was talking to himself not to me, "The cost was always too high. If I let myself want this," he licked his lips again, "everything would have to be different. I could never go back."
I touched his lips and said, as reassuringly as I could with him looking at me hot and hungry like that, "Things'll be different between us, sure, but we'll still be friends, partners, buddies. We'll just also be in love." I figured if we were going to be talking about this at all, he deserved to know everything, the love as well as the desire.
I could feel him smiling under my hand even as he shook his head. "Yeah, I know, but that's not what I mean, Chief." He looked away then, and I felt cold without the heat of his eyes, dizzy without the weight of his hunger. "You're not the first." He gulped and I saw the muscle on his jaw twitch. The pause got long enough that I was expecting that he wouldn't say anything else, but then he went on, "You're not the first man I've wanted."
That threw me a bit. Not because he'd wanted other men, I assumed that. The way he said it, though, slowly and consciously, like he words were sticking in his throat, gave the words special gravity. I nodded. "I figured you had."
It was like he didn't hear me at all. He just went on talking, "I just could never, never..." His voice was turned inward and his eyes were closed.
"Could never what?" I whispered.
"Could never let myself do anything. Couldn't let myself even feel it." He opened his eyes again, and the heat in them was so intense it burned me. "But I want you. God knows I've tried not to, but I want you." He looked at my lips again for just a second, and that was all the warning I got before he kissed me, hard and hungry, licking my lips, my teeth, the inside of my mouth while I was still gasping for air. I slid my hands up under his tee-shirt and the first touch on his nipples made him groan into the kiss and his hips bucked, pressing his hardness against my stomach. He pulled away from me, slowly, with a few parting hard kisses. "Jesus, Jesus. No going back. Not any more." His voice was a whisper
He closed his eyes and only his hands gently cradling my skull and his erection branding me through layers of denim kept me from freaking out. He was right, there was no going back now. No going back from the wildfire of passion. No going back from that kiss. "I'm sorry," I said. I wasn't sure what I was apologizing for, but Jim just seemed wrecked somehow and I was sure it was my fault. Somehow my desire for him was hurting him, which was why I'd never said anything to him about it. I said again, "I'm sorry."
He didn't let me go, didn't listen. After a little pause, he said, "I knew that if I ever let myself want a man, I'd change somehow. I'd lose the ability to ignore it. I knew it." He finally opened his eyes, hot blue fire, thank God. He looked me over, lingering over my face, my chest, where he could probably see my nipple ring through the fabric of my Henley, my crotch, where my cock strained toward him. His gaze moved slowly back up, and finally our eyes met. "Jesus, Blair. I want you so fucking bad," he said, voice gravelly and low.
My knees threatened to drop out from under me when he said those words. Like that. I nodded. "God, me too." When he didn't move, didn't kiss me, didn't pull me close, didn't do anything, I added, "Anything you want, we'll do it."
Even through his jeans, I could see his cock jump, see the tensing and bunching of the muscles in his arms as he fought against crushing me to him. He took in a deep breath and said, "I don't know. I want everything." He was staring at my lips, looking overwhelmed.
And that's when it hit me that Jim was completely new to all of this. He didn't know what he wanted from me, with me, because he didn't know what his options were. He'd never even let himself imagine the possibilities. I nodded and let all my desire show in my voice as I said, "Let's get to a bed then. You just have to let me know what feels good."
He nodded then and moved right into my space, holding my shoulders hard, bringing our bodies together. The feel of his firm thigh against my cock was wonderful and I rubbed against it, unable to resist. That helped him somehow, because he smiled, less nervous now, more hungry, and said, "Upstairs."
I groaned and rocked against him again, my cock aching within the confines of my jeans. I've had more orgasms than I can count imagining him fucking me in that big bed, my hands gripping the railing, so I just nodded and let him lead me.
Once at the top of the stairs, he stopped and stared at the bed for a moment. I was afraid he was having second thoughts, but as soon as I touched his back he turned to me and said, "Naked, now. I've got to see you." His voice was a growl that ripped straight through me.
My hands were shaking as I pulled off my tee-shirt. I couldn't look at him as I undid the button fly on my jeans; all of my attention was focused on making my hands work. I gave my cock a little stroke through my boxers as I opened the last button, just because it felt so good, and that made Jim groan. The sound caught my attention and I looked up at him. He was standing a foot or two away from me, touching himself through his jeans, staring at me. His eyes were so dilated the blue was almost gone. I was the experienced one here, but Jim's desire was palpable, filling up the room, devouring both of us. It made me feel bizarrely shy and my hands dropped to my sides. I looked him over, taking him in, then whispered, "Jesus, Jim, I've done this before with a lot of different people. But no one's ever wanted me like this."
Before I was done speaking he was there, pushing my jeans down over my hips, taking my cock in his hand. His grip was a little awkward, it was obvious he'd never held another man's dick before, but, oh God, it was perfect. Our skin molded and matched, each ripple and groove in his skin fitting into mine like we were made for each other. He adjusted his grip and perfect somehow got better. I gasped as he tickled the sensitive little fin of skin at the base of my cockhead with his thumb. He smiled like a predator as he started pumping, slowly at first, firming his grip and increasing the tempo in response to my movements and cries. Everything collapsed into sensation, his panting, my groans and whimpers, his strong arm around my waist holding me up, and above all, the wonder of his hand on my cock. I could feel orgasm coiling in me, and I grabbed his wrist to stop him. Shaking my head to gather my thoughts, I said, "Man, that's wonderful. If you want to bring me off with your hand..." He twitched his thumb again, his eyes on my face as my words died in a gasp. I bit my lip, just barely holding everything together before going on, "God, yeah. I'm almost there. What do you want?"
He nipped my neck, and said, "I want to see you come." His voice, all whispery and rough and deep, almost did it for me right there. Before I could say anything, he stroked me again, adding a little twist that brought his thumb across my leaking slit and I thrust into his hand, grabbed his arm to keep from falling over, and came with a wordless shout.
When I opened my eyes a few seconds later, Jim was staring at my come on his hand like he'd been blind up until that moment. I reached for him. "Let me see you."
He never took his eyes off his hand, but he nodded, so I carefully unzipped his jeans, taking care to make sure the teeth of the zipper didn't bite into him. Through the open vee of his fly, I could see the head of his cock, just barely visible where it peeked over the waistband of his briefs. Jesus. It was shiny with pre-come and dark red with blood and so fucking gorgeous. I dropped to my knees, taking both his jeans and his boxers down at the same time. I wanted that hard, beautiful cock like I'd never wanted anything. Before I could lick away the pearly drop of pre-come glistening at the tip, I remembered myself. "Jim, condoms, please. I want you in my mouth."
He groaned, clenching the semen covered hand into a fist at his side. The other he put on my shoulder, holding me away from where I was licking and nipping along his hip. "No. Not that." I stayed on my knees in front of him, leaned into his hand on my shoulder, and looked at him through the shelter of my hair. His hand was gentle though his smile was feral and hungry. "I want you to go...do that sometime, Chief. God, I do. But not now." He lifted my chin so that our eyes locked. His thumb caressed my lower lip, stroking softly and his eyes glittered. "You're beautiful," he said, with so much intensity it embarrassed me.
I rested my cheek against his hip, bathing in the heat and scent of his groin. With one finger, I traced around the edge of his bush of pubic hair, and asked, "What do you want?"
Jim leaned down and kissed me, hard and fast, before continuing, the words bitten off short and choppy, like he was having to fight himself to speak at all, "I want to come inside you." He flushed but didn't look away from me.
I swayed, glad that I was still kneeling, and my heart leapt as I moaned, imagining it. My eyes rolled closed. "Yeah, Jim. Fuck, yeah," I said, embarrassed at both the words and the desperate, needy whine in my voice as I said them. I opened my eyes to see him staring at my cock, which was filling again. "Please."
Jim tugged me to my feet; the smooth flow of his muscles added to the sensual feast of his naked body in front of me. He led me to the bed, pulling me down next to him, kissing me hard and deep, stealing my breath and my soul.
When we broke apart, I gasped, "We...we need lube and condoms. I've got it downstairs." He held on to me with one arm and opened the bedside drawer without a word. I pulled out a strip of condoms and a bottle of Astroglide. He looked more than a little embarrassed, so I restrained the urge to grin at him and make a joke. Instead, I encouraged him to lie down on his back. He was tense, so I spent a few minutes caressing his beautiful body with almost-touches from my hair, tickling his aura as much as his skin, and stroking him more firmly with my fingertips and tongue. The contrasting sensations had him writhing and moaning in just a few minutes. I smiled as I straddled his hips.
My renewed erection tapped against the skin of his stomach as I reached for the 'Glide. Slicking up my fingers, I reached back and began to prepare myself, watching Jim's face go first slack then dark with lust and hunger as he figured out what I was doing. I nodded in time with the movement of my fingers and said, "Yeah, babe. You like this." He growled in answer and his hips thrust underneath me, as if he were imagining being inside me already. "Next time...next time you can do this. Get me ready for you." My words were having an effect and I watched as his hands gripped the bedding, kneading like a cat. "Want you so bad. It's gonna be so good. Just a few more seconds." He groaned and I felt his cock twitch again. I sped up my stretching; my teasing was making both of us crazy. With one more deep thrust with my fingers, I stroked across my prostate and and groaned. I wasn't quite ready, but I couldn't wait any longer. I nodded toward the condoms where they lay next to Jim's hand, "Put one on. Jesus, James, hurry."
His hands were shaking as he rolled the condom down his cock, which was twitching and leaking in steady drips. When he had it on I dripped on more of the Glide, spreading it around quickly. I tried to be as businesslike with my hand as possible, because it was clear that Jim was on the edge, but even that level of stimulation made his balls draw up so I tugged at them gently, and gave him a little squeeze. I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Hold on. It's going to be so good when you're inside me. You'll see. Just hang on."
That made him grunt in frustration and he put his hands on my thighs, holding me like he was afraid I'd try to leave or something. I quickly slid a little more slick inside, then gripped his cock and lowered myself down until I could just feel the thick head of it pressing against my entrance. Relaxing and opening to him, I slid down slowly, taking him into me, enveloping him. His hands shook against me and beads of sweat popped out on his chest. God. When he was completely inside me and I could feel his pubic hair against my perineum, tickling slightly, I started to move, rising and falling. My hands slicked across his sweaty skin, tracing his muscles. He was motionless under me, completely stiff and rigid except for his hands which were gripping my legs. I was worried that something was wrong until I remembered he was new to this. I leaned forward and kissed him even as I sighed from the pleasure of the new angle, then whispered, "Jim." He twitched in response but didn't move. "Take me."
His hands moved to my hips, and he whispered, "God, Chief. You...you feel." He made a tiny little thrust, but it was enough to make me gasp and he went still again. "I...I don't want to hurt you." His voice was strangled and shaky.
I rocked down on him again, just to hear him groan, then said, "You won't. I need this. Please, please."
My words were cut off when he gripped my hips and thrust, finally. He shouted my name as he slid hard into me, grunting with the pleasure of the first few strokes. I was moaning and he was keening low and soft as he took up a beautiful, fast rhythm. I shifted my position a little so that the head of his cock was striking flares of pleasure off my prostate on every inward stroke. I heard my moans resolving into his name, repeated and repeated with every thrust, until even that word was impossible as sweet fire burned me. I was meeting him stroke for stroke, pushing him, pushing both of us, higher, my head thrown back as I howled my pleasure. I reached for my cock, needing to come even as I wanted it to go on forever, but he brushed my hand away with a growl and took me in in a firm grip.
The ecstasy was too much then; the feel of Jim's cock swelling in me, the tickle against my ass as his balls drew up, the knowledge that I was finally, finally making love to Jim Ellison, sent me wailing over the edge. The first splash of come on his chest made him roar and he arched up, lifting my weight as he pulled me down hard by my hips, burying himself deep inside my body, filling me.
He faded out for a little while after that, his eyes closed, breathing in gasps. He didn't appear to be zoning, just a little lost, so as soon as I stopped feeling his cock pulsing in my entrance, I kissed his chest over his heart and reached behind me to hold the condom on while I slid off of him. I ached from the loss of his cock, the emptiness inside me huge, when he slid out of my passage. I barely remembered to yank the condom off and drop it on the floor beside the bed before I collapsed next to him.
I was just settling down when he pulled me close, rolling so he could wrap his arms and a leg around me, tucking me into the curve of his body. I waited a while for him to say something, but he didn't so I let myself relax more deeply against him, cuddled against the strength of his chest, and stroked his back and sides idly. Finally, I asked, "So, how was it?" It was a lame-ass question and I knew it, but I needed him to say something, anything. Something that would let me know for sure where we stood.
He kissed the top of my head and held me closer. I could hear him licking his lips before he spoke, "Better...better than anything." His voice was hoarse, which shouldn't have surprised me the way he'd been moaning and shouting, but hearing his voice broken like that made me wish we could do it again, maybe slower and easier this time. He kissed the side of my head. After a long, long pause, he said, "I was right though. There's no going back." He kissed me again and nudged my head with his nose until I pulled back and looked at him. He was smiling, grinning, and I could feel tension bleeding out of his muscles as I held him. He looked happy. For a minute he looked like he was going to say something, then he kissed me, quickly and playfully. He rolled us over so that he was lying on top of me. "I love you, Blair. You know that, right?"
I grinned back at him, unable to respond to his happiness in any other way. "Yeah. I know. I love you too. You're sure you're good about not going back?" He didn't answer this directly, he just kissed me soft and slow then smoothed the worry between my eyebrows with a gentle touch. I nodded and smiled again, "Good, 'cause I'm never letting you go." I gave him a little kiss and then pulled him down over me like a blanket. "So what brought this on, man? I've wanted you for years, why did you finally notice me tonight?"
He flushed, embarrassed, as he rolled to his side and propped his head up on his hand. His free hand stroked my chest, tracing along my ribs and following the edge of my chest hair, teasing the smooth skin. After a few moments, he said, "I've known for a long time, really, but I just couldn't..."
Someday soon he's going to explain to me why he hadn't let himself have something he so obviously wanted. But at that time I was after something else, so I asked, "What changed tonight?"
His hand stopped its slow stroke and rested over my heart. "At the concert there was a couple sitting a few rows ahead of us. They were laughing and dancing through the whole show. Obviously happy to be together."
"You don't mean the girl who gave her boyfriend a lapdance during 'Oye Como Va'?" I asked.
He grimaced and shook his head. "No, not them. These guys," I blinked but didn't say anything, "were further away than that. You probably couldn't have seen them. I noticed them during the opening act because one of them looked a little like you." He touched my lips, my cheek, my earrings, then rested his hand on my chest again. "When I first saw them I thought about how comfortable they were together and how they must be good friends."
"Like us?" I asked softly.
"Yeah, just like us. In fact the one who looked like you looked at his friend the same way you look at me sometimes." He stroked my forehead. "Wide eyed and fascinated."
I nodded, knowing the moments he was referring to. "Okay. So you were watching them?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I was watching them. Watching them dance together, a little closer than we were. And then in the encore, during 'The Sensitive Kind', you know the song?"
"The sultry one?"
"Yeah, that one. Anyway, during that song, they kissed each other and..." His voice trailed off.
"And you realized you wanted that too?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I couldn't ignore it. And all of a sudden everything fell into place, you loving me, wanting me. Me wanting you."
I tugged at him until his head was resting on my chest and I stroked his velvet hair. "But you're happy?" I asked. I knew the answer from the way he was relaxed in my arms, but I still wanted to hear it.
I could feel him grinning as he turned and bit me gently. "Yeah, Chief. I'm happy. This is the way things are supposed to be."
And, really, what was there to say to that other than, "Yeah, it is."
Allowing Desire by Sara: email@example.com
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