butterflyfactor | (no subject)

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jamie

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Even with how long the walk back to the house is, I'm still tipsy when we get there. Not drunk- I can walk a straight line and recite the alphabet backward, but I would probably find it way more amusing than under normal circumstances. I'm at least glad I wore sneakers instead of real heels. It probably made things easier than I realize. But again- tipsy. Not drunk. Jamie isn't the only one harboring concerns over things he might do under the influence that he's otherwise resolved not to. At least, not just yet.

Layla pushed the door to the house open and knelt to catch Richards before he could run out, part of her dress still gathered in one hand as it had been for most of the walk.

"Hey, there, champ. No wild parties while we were out?"

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She let go of her hair to fold her arms across the front of the dress so it stayed put.

"Thanks, boss."

"I'm not your boss anymore," he said, rolling his eyes as he finished with the last of the buttons. He lingered for a moment, memorizing the way her skin looked in the low light. Making no real move to put any distance between them, he waited for her to do the honors.

"True enough," she said, drawing away enough to turn around and look up at him.

"Thanks."

Technically, even if I drop the gown, he's seen me in- if not less- at least the same amount. A strapless bra and hipster panties are at least the equivalent of a bikini. But it feels different, a lot different. Maybe it's the dress. Or his suit. Or, sure, the whiskey, but all that's really doing is make me feel warm. In fact, I am spectacularly aware of my inhibitions and where I stand in relation to them. Possibly in relation to Jamie's as well.

Edited 2010-06-13 21:29 (UTC)

"Not a problem," he said, letting his hands drop back down to his sides. He stood there, a little uncomfortable in his own skin, knowing, for once, what he wanted, though saddled with the additional knowledge that it wasn't for grabs. "I guess this is goodnight, then."

Layla watched him for a moment, because he did look really amazing in the suit, even if he was sans jacket at the moment. The tie in and of itself was a novelty. She lifted a hand to curl around the slip of silk, just below the knot, and tugged very gently.

"Not yet," she murmured.

"Layla," he started, but he couldn't decide how to finish that thought, so he trailed off into silence. Tentatively, he ducked his head as though to kiss her, then stopped just short of doing so, a breath caught in his throat.

Edited 2010-06-13 22:03 (UTC)

She kissed him, stepping closer as she did, still holding his tie with one hand and her dress with the other. It was slow but not particularly tentative. She'd been waiting to do it properly for hours now, after all.

It had never been a hardship to kiss Layla Miller. His hands settled around her waist after a moment's flailing, and while it couldn't compare to skin, there was something to be said for the feeling of silk, regardless. Mouth opening against hers, he deepened the kiss, having done this enough times, now, to know what she liked without weighing every option first in his head.

Layla had to make a call. It only took a second's back and forth. She let go of the dress and slipped her arm around his neck, parting her lips when he did, sighing half out of relief and half out of what she had to admit was the definition of the opposite of relief. Her grip on his tie tightened somewhat.

Jamie let go of her only to let the dress pool to the floor. Once that was done, his hands again found her waist, and he nudged her back just a little bit, guiding them both into her room so that he could close the door, and not worry about the dog interrupting whatever they were going to do -- if anything.

He had his doubts that they would go much further than this, in spite of their earlier conversation, but it was different enough from their usual fare to draw out a moan. Whether it all came screeching to a halt in twenty seconds or twenty minutes, he was intent on enjoying it while it lasted.

She let him guide them back, loosening his tie as they went. Not that Layla particularly kept an eye toward tidiness, but her room was clean, a combination of too much spare time and very few possessions.

They'd been close, in the water, and when he'd been admittedly wasted and she had not been, at all, she'd briefly felt his hands and lips in a few places that had shaken her- just enough to outweigh the part of her that had been enjoying it. Given how careful they'd been with each other since, his hands on her bare skin now was good, really good, and she leaned into him where he held her. She kissed him back more deeply, breath coming a little faster.

There were only so many places to go in her room, and while standing in the middle of it might have been the safer option, he kept walking them towards the bed, his heart hammering in his chest from some indelible mix of nerves and anticipation, though for what, he couldn't be entirely certain. It was nothing new.

Layla swayed a little in his arms when the backs of her legs came up against the edge of the bed. It was enough of a jostle to break their kiss, since she hadn't planned on doing so voluntarily, and her eyes opened after a distracted moment of fluttering lashes. Her gaze caught on his mouth for a moment before she looked up to meet his eyes. Tie undone, she slid one hand back through his hair and the other along his jaw.

"Jamie." She lightly nipped his lower lip, then kissed it, sucking gently.

"Mmm?" he hummed, holding her flush against him for a moment, turning them around so that he could get on the bed first. Not knowing how far she wanted to take this, he figured it better for her to be on top -- a symbolic gesture of power, if nothing else. With one last kiss, he sat down, hands searching for hers to pull her into his lap.

Layla threaded her fingers though his and slipped easily into his lap. She tilted her head a little to kiss his jaw, and then a spot just above the line of his collar, before she straightened a little and looked him in the eye.

She didn't make to start unlacing her shoes yet.

"What was the decision?" she asked quietly.

Jamie held her gaze, unwavering.

"That I want you," he murmured, hands slipping once again around her waist. "Just you."

Careful, Madrox. You're one step away from the L-word with something like that, and we all know how that makes you feel.

Holy crap.

Layla stared a little. She didn't even really notice when her breath caught, hitched gently with the shift of his hands.

Again- this isn't how this happens. Technically, nothing that happens here is 'how it happens', but this is one of those big steps, and it's different. But it doesn't feel wrong.

She cupped his face and kissed him softly, once, before she rested her forehead against his temple.

"Oh," she said. Her fingertips were resting idly over the top button his shirt, which seemed like sort of a waste, so she undid it.

"Well," she continued, dragging the tip of her nose along his cheek until their mouths were close, "good."

"That's it?" he asked, biting back a laugh as he kissed the corner of her mouth. "I make a big, potentially relationship-altering confession, and all's I get is an oh, well good?"

She grinned a little, tilting her face into the touch of his mouth, fingers moving to the next button, and the next.

"I think 'I want you, too' would be a little redundant. Anyway," she murmured against his mouth, shifting in his lap, her voice lowering with their proximity.

"Who says that's all you get?"

"Dunno," he admitted, hands sliding up the warm, smooth skin of her back, stopping only when they hit the clasp of her bra. He didn't undo just yet, pulling back just enough to look at her, a silent question all too readable in his expression. "Who says anything, really?"

She met his look as she slipped the flat of her palm under his half unbuttoned shirt, to glide along the skin of his chest.

"The only ones whose say counts for anything would be you and me." She kissed him a few times, each brief but full, and maybe not deep, but wet.

"Jamie..."

"Too much?" he murmured, sliding his hands fractionally lower. "Just said the word and I won't."

"Not even close," she answered, lifting her hips so she could half-stand for long enough to reconfigure how she was sitting in his lap. It involved a moment of kneeling on the bed, head ducked so she could still kiss him, before her knees were on either side of his hips and her arms were around his neck, fingertips trailing along his shoulders, jaw, then up into his hair.

It was a really nice shirt he had on. She could tell, because she was practically wearing it. It had to go. She leaned back enough to reach down and pull it from where it was tucked in, and started undoing the last of the buttons.

Edited 2010-06-14 15:30 (UTC)

Given the go-ahead, Jamie smiled like the Cheshire cat, and with practiced fingers, undid her bra, catching it as it dropped so he could toss it onto the floor. For a moment, he stared, transfixed, giving her a second to adjust before cupping one of her breasts, his thumb brushing over her nipple. His other hand braced on her hip, he then ducked his head to kiss his way down her chest, starting at her collarbone, and heading south from there.

Layla took a breath, shivering as she pushed his shirt back. She ran her hands up his sides, then over his chest to his shoulders to start pulling the collar and sleeves of the shirt away from his neck and back. She ducked her head to graze her lips along the shell of his ear as her fingers started to trace the lines of muscles wherever they could find them. They had a lot of opportunities.