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His bed was cold without her in it. The emptiness there, not nearly as alluring as it was only ten minutes ago. Her flesh so pliant under his hands, so responsive to his touch. Groaning in frustration, he gets up, pacing his room like a caged animal.
He needs to move. He needs to do something. It's like he can feel her racing thoughts and her indecision warring in her head and it was making him reckless. He wanted the world to know. He wanted everyone to know. He wanted to hold her hand and kiss her in public. He wanted to push the hair out of her face and gently kiss the freckles at the bridge of her nose in the middle of the fucking grocery store.
This whole secret thing was not working out the way he had planned. It was fun, it IS fun, but it's not what he wants. He wants more. Probably more than she is willing to give him.
Lacing up his sneakers, not bothering with a shirt, he jogs down the stairs and out the door. It's a little after three a.m. He can get his sprints in and worry about the world later.
Melody
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"Jesus, what time is it?" She asks no one in particular. Judging by the amount of light streaming into the room, she must have slept the entire morning away so much for waking up early to go for a run. Voices filter up from downstairs. Looks like the household is in full swing.
She freshens herself up, putting on some running gear even though the possibility of going for one is pretty dismal at this point. She woke up feeling achy and alone, even though Marisol had been lying beside her. She missed the warm embrace and safety of Nash’s arms.
"Mari, Mari, Mari, Mari." She continued chanting while shaking her. "It's wakey, wakey, time." Melody sing songs in a saccharine voice. Marisol groans loudly at the intrusion.
"Fuck off, Melody, go away." She mumbles unintelligibly. The only words she can make out are curse words.
Melody laughs and claps loudly. "Come on, girl, wake up! I smell bacon." At that, Marisol pops up, hair tumbling over her face and shoulders.
Her eyes landed harshly on Melody. "Only for bacon." She stands up quickly, wobbling on her feet before steadying herself.
"Hey Mari, you didn't finish telling me last night. You said you did it. What happened?" Melody asks in a hushed whisper as they make their way down the hall.
Marisol freezes in place. She hesitates before answering, which is very unlike Marisol. She is very open and vocal about things, not really stopping to think things through.
Exaggerating her sigh, "It was no big deal." She says, although her body language definitely speaks to it being a very big deal. She was putting up a wall, but why, is the question? "I popped his cherry, and that's it. I’m leaving next month anyway, so it was like a parting gift for him."
She leaves Melody to walk down on her own as she scurries down the stairs. Leaving Melody to wonder why she suddenly thinks this was no big deal when last night it was ‘soooo good’ and she was gonna miss him? Everyone knew Marisol did not like to show vulnerability or weakness. This has to be one of those weaknesses.
From the kitchen, she could hear Marisol screech, "Eww Graham, you stink, get away from me.'' Then a crash and Nash's masculine chuckle.
It was a fantastic sound, vibrating in all the right places, making her stomach tighten and her body flush. That chuckle seemed to be getting closer. She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice Nash coming up the stairs until he was right in front of her. He stalks up the stairs, eyes hooded deviously and trained right on her. His shirt was thrown over one shoulder, a water bottle in his hand.
Does he always walk around shirtless? God, I hope so.
He is closer to her now. She hasn't moved an inch, frozen in place. Nash moves up to her step getting in her space and pushing up against the front of her body, pinning her to the wall with his chest.
She inhales deeply, smelling sweat, freshly cut grass, and something else- something so uniquely his that she wishes they could bottle it up for her.
"I’m all wet." His voice says apologetically, but his body says he is not sorry at all.
"So am I." Her voice hoarse.
And she was, his closeness making her arousal almost automatic. The impulse to roughly pulll him close and lick the column of his neck was so strong she had to ball her fists together.
Putting an arm by her ear, hand resting on the wall behind her, Nash cages her in, doing exactly what she had wanted. He leans in and licks her neck right up to the back of her ear. Sucking at the skin by her collarbone, aligning his body perfectly against hers.
He lifts her body up easily with one arm as she wraps her legs around his waist, head falling back as he pins her against the wall. She can feel his erection at her core, testing Melody's resolve with a thrust of his hips. She meets his thrust happily with one of her own and he crushes her body against the wall roughly.
His free hand roams her body as she grinds herself shamelessly against him. This was reckless, but she was chasing after her climax. He seemed to have unlocked an insatiable monster who would, in fact, mount him at any opportunity seeking release.
She was so lost in her own pleasure that she hadn't noticed his hand come up to her mouth. Her eyes go wide as she realizes what she is doing in the stairway right next to the kitchen where his entire family is gathered. They were fully clothed, but the sensation was still too intense. They were still way too close. Hell, she was way too close to the edge. It was too real, her orgasm already building.
Nash's hooded gaze meets her wild stare as he continues to thrust his hips back into her. He leans over her chest and sucks her skin into his mouth. She moans into his hand, getting lost once again to his touch. She resumes her grinding, moans, and grunts muffled by his hand. It was all simultaneously too much and not nearly enough. Her hands come up to his hair, causing shivers to move up his body. He presses his face into her neck and groans quietly as she adjusts her position to give herself just enough pressure and friction she needs. And, she shatters.
The sounds filter through first. Pots and pans were being washed, the refrigerator door was opening and closing, and Marisol's voice chattered over the roar of the sink. Nash gently lets her slide down the length of him. His body is tense, probably from blue balls- poor guy. His jaw ticks as he looks down at her. She must look ridiculous. They stare at each other. All those words left unspoken communicated through the gaze.
