Katherine "Kissin' Kate" Barlow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ikissdhimbck) wrote2013-07-28 12:40 am
ikissdhimbck) wrote2013-07-28 12:40 am
Entry tags:
OOM: Room #100 -- for Tommy Gavin
[Following this:]
The sun's just setting when Kate heads in from the stables. Lately, she's been staying out after dark, but tonight she needs to clean up before Tommy stops by.
Her room is untidy, a 'tee-vee' and 'dee-vee-dee player' on a rolling cart stationed in front of her bureau. There's a small stack of films lying nearby. The table in the corner is covered with dirtied glasses and half-empty — or completely empty — liquor bottles, used tissues, and cupcake wrappers.
She unlocks the door and steps in, greeted by the expectant mewling of her cats. Taking off her gun belt, she leaves it on the chest by the foot of her bed, and heads into the washroom. She feeds the boys, and takes a quick bath.
By the time Tommy stops by, the bed will be made and the trash collected, the glasses stacked to be washed later and the bottles pushed aside. A few tissues escape her notice under the T.V. cart, but at least she feels mostly presentable.
The sun's just setting when Kate heads in from the stables. Lately, she's been staying out after dark, but tonight she needs to clean up before Tommy stops by.
Her room is untidy, a 'tee-vee' and 'dee-vee-dee player' on a rolling cart stationed in front of her bureau. There's a small stack of films lying nearby. The table in the corner is covered with dirtied glasses and half-empty — or completely empty — liquor bottles, used tissues, and cupcake wrappers.
She unlocks the door and steps in, greeted by the expectant mewling of her cats. Taking off her gun belt, she leaves it on the chest by the foot of her bed, and heads into the washroom. She feeds the boys, and takes a quick bath.
By the time Tommy stops by, the bed will be made and the trash collected, the glasses stacked to be washed later and the bottles pushed aside. A few tissues escape her notice under the T.V. cart, but at least she feels mostly presentable.
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She does nothing to deepen the kiss or quicken the pace, but she holds on tight, both keeping him there and letting him know without stopping that she likes what he's doing.
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His hands wander her body, over the silk that clings to her curves, tugging the material aside where he can to get to her skin. Breaking the kiss just long enough, he pulls her camisole over her head and tosses it aside, quickly closing the gap between them again before shrugging off his jacket and flinging that aside, too.
Still, he's in no hurry, either. Just that being skin-to-skin with her seems like a nice idea right now.
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"Guess y'really are up for it."
She arches her eyebrows, melting back into the kiss as the space between them winks out of existence. She rubs the nape of his neck, dragging her hands back over his t-shirt. She loves it when he tugs at her clothes, so she returns the favor. Her hands slip under his hem, stroking their way up from his belly to his pecs.
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He growls into her mouth at her touch, but must they break their kiss again? All right, fine, if it means that she gets to pull off his shirt. He helps by slipping his arms free as she drags it off of him, and then it's back to kissing her and caressing her, rough palms on milky skin, hungry for the constant contact.
Inevitably his fingers find the buttons on her trousers and deftly start flipping them loose one by one, his knuckles grazing her belly.
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Her arms cross with his, fingers working at his fly. Everywhere he touches her burns after he moves on, like he's painting her with hot cinder. She's beginning to feel the pleasant escalation of her heartbeat.
"Slow?"
She peels his jeans off his hips, breaking the kiss long enough to feel the tingle in her lips.
"Think we could take our time?"
She hesitates to make requests, but after all the talking they've done recently she's confident enough to risk it. She wants to enjoy this.
And she's missed him.
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"Sure, honey."
He agrees easily. It's rare that she asks anything of him in bed, but he wishes she'd do it more often, just so he knows for sure that she's getting what she wants.
There's a whisper of satin as the knotted ribbon at her navel is pulled free. Grasping her hips for balance, at the same time pushing both her knickers and pants further down, he toes off his boots and kicks them aside.
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So while he takes care of his boots, she arches her back and shimmies free of her clothing, leaning against the table on the heels of her palms. The only thing she's wearing now is her new necklace.
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He slings her arms around his neck again, and grabbing her waist, he easily hefts her up. Arms tightly encircling her, bodies flush against one another-- the coolness of the pendant pressed to his skin-- he's eye-to-eye with her, and he kisses her again, eager and affectionate, with even a touch of playfulness.
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That doesn't mean she can't, or won't, enjoy it. She holds onto him tight once again, wrapping her legs around his waist. She's content to get lost in his eyes, so he catches a snicker when he presses his lips to hers. They haven't made time to laugh in far too long, letting the sparks flying off every nerve and the knot of anticipation in their bellies get the best of them. It's strangely exhilarating, like the occasional press of the cold ribbon between them.
She hadn't envisioned the night ending like this — then again, she hadn't imagined ice skating in the middle of summer, hand in hand with a man who makes her feel centered, oddly enough. However, as he lays her down, their bodies doing the talking for the foreseeable future, she can't envision a better way to end the night.