Author's Chapter Notes:
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They skip lunch and make love in the back of Jim’s car. Jim jokes that such a combination might get him down the eight pounds Scranton needs to win the weight loss competition. Pam laughs, tracing their initials in the steamy window, enclosing them in a heart.
Their lunch break ends far too soon and they head their separate ways after lingering kisses and promises to talk on iChat as soon as they can.
On the highway to New York, Pam is so thrilled she can’t even find the words. That’s when she realizes she doesn’t want to have to find them. She wants to hold this feeling in her heart, let it wrap around her and warm her insides. She doesn’t want to share it.
If she goes back to school, her new friends will ask about the new bling she’s sporting on her left hand. She could tell them about Jim and they would be happy for her, but they wouldn’t understand, not really. They wouldn’t know everything she and Jim had been through, together and apart. Jim is the only one who can understand.
Pam realizes that she does want to share this feeling, but only with one person.
-----
Jim beams through the stupid weigh-in even though they lose. He beams (but ignores him) when Dwight gives him the job of emptying the rotting fruit from the vending machine. He beams when he tells Michael he’s taking the next day off. He beams as he steps back out into the pouring rain, gets into his car, and points it towards New York. Pam has agreed to marry him - nothing can bring him down.
He hums along with the radio as he drives through the rain on the way to his fiancée. He knows she isn’t expecting him, they had tried to be rational, had agreed to wait until the weekend like they had planned before his impromptu lunch suggestion. She has classes, he has work. But he can’t stay away.
He’s almost to New York when the catchy tune of “I’ll Melt with You,” Pam’s personalized ring tone, fills the car. He hits speakerphone.
“Hey future wife.”
“Hey future husband.” He is grinning like an idiot and from Pam’s voice, he guesses she is too. “Where are you?” she asks. “It sounds like you’re on the highway.”
“Well, secret’s out I guess. I’m waiting in line for the Holland Tunnel.”
“Oh, Jim, you’re not!” The distress in her voice to the news of his visit is not what he expects to hear from a woman who has just agreed to be his wife.
“Uh, yes, I am. Why? What’s going on?”
“I’m not there!” Pam exclaimed.
“What? Where are you?”
“Naked, in your bed, with a bottle of champagne, waiting for you to come home and ravish me.” Jim’s entire body reacts to the visual she’s created. Then, he realizes that he’s just driven an hour and a half through pouring rain for nothing and wants to pound his head against the steering wheel. “I thought you’d be home after work, but it’s getting late, so I called.”
‘Okay, hold tight, I’ll be home soon.” He swings a probably illegal u-turn and drives back to Scranton faster than he ever has.
-----
Jim lets himself into the house, peeling off his wet clothes in the foyer and leaving them on the tile. He rushes to the bedroom in just his boxers, wanting to turn the mental picture he’s had in his head into a reality. But the reality isn’t quite what Pam had described. His fiancée has crawled under the blankets and fallen asleep, no doubt having gotten cold waiting for him.
She is naked as promised though and he grins as he trails his cool hands over her bare back. She wakes at his touch, blinking up at him sleepily.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” He kisses her softly, joining her on the bed.
“I put the champagne in the fridge,” she tells him as he crawls under the covers.
“Later,” he replies, kissing her again. She moans softly into him as his tongue teases hers and his hands skim down her body. Goosebumps rise on her pale flesh in response and she winds her arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss.
“I can’t believe you left me waiting here for nearly three hours,” she murmurs as he presses kisses down her neck. “I had such big plans for tonight.”
“We’ve never had the best timing, have we?”
“Not quite, but I think we’re getting better. Just promise not to be late for the wedding.”
“I’ll do my best,” he jokes and she slaps his bare shoulder. He retaliates by nipping at her collarbone and digging his fingers beneath her ribs. She giggles at his tickling and reaches for his own most ticklish spot, just under his armpit. He jumps across the bed away from her fingers but she follows, swinging a leg over his stomach.
Looking up at Pam as she straddles him, her golden curls framing her face, and warmth and happiness well up in his chest. He cannot believe she is finally here with him, that she will be his wife. He slides his hands to her rounded hips and she meets his eyes.
“I am so in love with you.”
“That’s good. I wouldn’t want you to propose because you just sorta like me.” He pinches her thigh and she giggles, but then turns serious. “I love you too. Madly.” He reaches up and threads his fingers through her hair, pulling her down for a kiss. She kisses back and begins to roll her hips, feeling him rise beneath her.
His large hands cup her rear, guiding her rhythm, and Pam twists damp strands of Jim’s hair between her fingers as she kisses him deeply. Her body feels warm all over with the heat concentrated between her thighs. She wants him so badly and for the rest of her life.
Jim rolls them so he’s on top, trailing his lips down to her chest. He laves at the creamy flesh, nips at the sensitive skin, licks down the gentle curve of her stomach and settles himself between her thighs.
Pam moans and pants as he fulfills her fantasy and ravishes her. He knows exactly what she likes and exploits that knowledge. Soon, she wails her way through her first orgasm and then he slides inside her with a groan.
Their timing hasn’t always been great but between the sheets, they have always been compatible. He fits her perfectly, her body and her soul. His thrusts inside her hit all the right spots. His moans in her ear, telling her how much he loves her, send her heart soaring. He reaches his climax shortly after she reaches her second and rolls to his back, clutching her close to his sweaty chest.
She nuzzles the crook between his shoulder and neck and sighs deeply. “Love you,” she murmurs into his skin. His stomach rumbles in response. They both laugh.
“I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” he explains. “You keep distracting me with your womanly wiles.”
“You know what goes great with champagne? Chinese food.” Jim grins.
“You call House of China, I’ll get the glasses.”
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