A/N: Okay, I know I have another WIP I totally abandoned, but I'm stuck in such a bad rut with that one and I don't like it right now, so it's staying where it is 'til I figure it out. This however? I mapped it out much better than the other one. And I'm excited to write this. First chapter's kind of general, the story will come out in the next, most likely.
Disclaimer: I own nothing here.
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Life was incredibly and perfectly simple when they were side by side on their first date. And they deserved it, they both thought so. He was fresh from a breakup only about six hours old, swimming in his thoughts of her presence now, how much she had changed his life. If it was real now, that it was finally happening. She'd been on the brink of acceptance, she was ready to be okay without him. She was trying her best to be sensible and practical, careful and wise. She'd been pleasantly surprised by an invitation to dinner.
It was awkward until she asked him what happened. He figured it would make it more awkward, but by the time the story was out, she was smiling without restraint.
He chuckled, scraping his thumbnail along the side of his glass, through the condensation. He stared at her with a grin. "What?"
"Oh. Oh, I don't know," she said, waving her hand and finding something else to look at. It had finally worked out, it was finally working.
All they could do was smile sheepishly together, as he moved through the story.
He wasn't with Karen. He had to be with her. He'd said the words like it was just a fact, like it was assumed, something they both already knew. Pam heard the words and reached across the table for his hands, squeezing them. He looked at her again, a happy question in his eyes.
"Okay," she said, her hands shrinking back into her lap with easy defeat. She folded her hands together anxiously, another grin stuck on her face, and shrank her body into a self-conscious hunch. "I'm just thinking this is really, really good. That's all. I know I'm acting weird."
She giggled, and it was his undoing, so he nodded and took a sip of water. The check had been paid a good forty-five minutes before, so the next step was logical.
His face agreed with hers, mirroring her expression and this made her melt. "Come on."
They walked out of the restaurant, Jim's hand tugging her across the parking lot. The wine had been finished a while ago, but the effects weren't obvious until after they stood from the table. They were giddy, Pam unable to keep up with his long strides in her shiny heels.
Before they reached the car, he stopped abruptly. She knew what was coming, or maybe she'd waited for it long enough and wished his lips to hers. She felt each of his fingers curl in his hold on her, wrapped around her body in various places, chasing her skin like he couldn't get enough. His lips were warm and soft on hers, and she tasted the wine on his that was barely on her own. He would press into her, attention graciously on her bottom lip, and pull back until they were almost separate; he came back each time with more force than before.
Her hands were fists full of the fabric of his shirt, gathered at his sides. One finger escaped, scratching his skin through the crisp shirt as she sighed softly. He tilted his head, changing the angle. It was better, and she melted into him with one heel dragging across the pavement and sweeping upward slightly. He sensed the girlish gesture, and pulled her closer.
When she felt his lips turn into a smile, she barely pulled back to see his face. An inch apart, he kissed her quick and smiled at the sight of her lips. As if he just had to, he brushed a thumb across her bottom lip, pink and tempting, and put his hands in his pockets.
"Hey," he said in a whisper, extracting one hand to thoughtfully stroke the skin on her forearm. "I don't want to sound presumptuous or anything, but do you maybe want to come over for a while?"
She laughed quietly, teasing his sweet demeanor. He raised his brow and looked hopeful; as if she was reluctant.
"Yeah," she said breathlessly, weaving her fingers through his again. This time, they walked slowly to the car. He opened the door for her, and as she sat inside and waited for him to make his way to the driver side, she took a deep breath. The restaurant shut off its lights suddenly, the parking lot was black, and Jim slid into the seat next to her. In the dark, he kissed her again until they left five minutes later.
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"Okay, I don't think you've been here since I've moved back from Stamford, right?"
She shook her head as she stood in the doorway, curling her hand behind her ears.
"Okay, well you can come in, you know."
She gave him a look as he laughed, stepped inside and out of her heels.
"God, it feels good to get those off." She rubbed her bare feet against one another and ran a hand through the curls at her shoulder.
He glanced at her bare feet. She was right there.
"Tour?" he asked, with suggesting hands in the air.
"Sure," she replied, coming to his side.
He pointed in different directions with each word. "Kitchen. Dining room. Well, a table. Living room. Bathroom, and my room's back down there. And a closet is between them."
"Very nice," she said with a nod, glancing around the living room. It was a smaller place than he'd had before, but somehow spacious. Maybe just lacking furniture, she decided.
"Yeah," he said slowly, feeling a weird shift now that they were in his apartment. "You want something to drink?" He pulled at his tie and gestured toward the refrigerator.
"Um, sure, what do you have?" She felt the shift, too, and couldn't help but feel a little frustrated. She didn't want to be anxious, she wanted to melt back into him and she wanted to start this. Finally. She missed her best friend in Jim; getting to know his laugh again was just as good as remembering his lips.
They were sipping beers unenthusiastically, sunk into the couch in the living room when he spoke again.
"I've had kind of a crazy day," he said slowly, thumbs rubbing the label on his drink.
She tensed. "Oh, of course. You've been up for a while, you probably want--"
"No, it's nothing like that, that's not where I'm going," he said, holding up a hand. "Just, let me tell you something, okay?" His lips quirked into a little smile and she nodded for it.
"It's been a really weird day," he spoke more slowly, talked to the bottle in his hands. "I woke up with a girl I dumped hours later, turned down a job that -- who knows -- I might've been offered, and drove back to Pennsylvania with my hands sweating the entire time."
Pam creased her brow and shifted her gaze to the bottle in her hands.
"It's just weird to think that..." Jim smirked and looked directly into her. "You know what? It's totally weird. A large portion of my time has been spent doubting this would ever happen. That I wouldn't be here with you."
She smiled, ducked her head, and looked at him through her eyelashes.
"Ever," he whispered, as if amazed again by what was in front of him. When she breathed out, he continued. "I'm just going to say it. I'm really, really excited. And nervous. But mostly excited."
She blushed, poked his side. "Don't be nervous."
"Anxious," he corrected, shrugging and grabbing at the playful hand she'd nudged him with. He pulled her into his lap and kissed her sweetly.
"Just excited," she murmured against his mouth, before kissing him fully again. They were pressed into the cushions, her small fingers caressing his face when he stiffened in her hold.
"Mm?" she asked, and he noticed the dewy look of desire in her eyes. He wanted to kiss her senseless at that look, pin her up against the wall and devour her lips.
"Ah, I just realized I forgot something at the office," he said warily, rubbing his forehead.
"Oh," she whispered, barely heard. She felt a little dejected as she pulled away, her hands twisted into her lap again. "What is it? Do you need it?"
He focused on her mouth, barely hanging open with the words on its edge. He sighed. "Actually, yeah, it's just something I needed to revise. David wanted it, and back when I was trying to impress him for obvious reasons, I agreed to get it done before noon tomorrow. I should probably still do it."
"Oh, yeah, you probably should." She bit her lip and craned her neck, nodding with eyes searching his. Hers were unmistakably dark and his body hardened at the thought of turning this away.
"Yeah," he groaned, wiping a hand over his face. He playfully grabbed her sides and pulled her closer, pulling a soft giggle from her. Their kisses were soft and careful until he pulled away again.
"Ugh, I don't want to go, because then you have to go." He smiled weakly and brushed his lips over her knuckles.
She watched him do so with a satisfied smile and took a deep breath. "I could come with you."
The image of Pam, glowing skin in the dark, pressed up against his desk in nothing, gasping into his shoulder, flashed through his mind. He reached up to his shoulder, as if he felt her sting there.
"Actually," he started, "why don't you sit tight here? I promise, twenty minutes. Make yourself at home, what do you think?"
Pam looked up at the clock. It was nearly ten. That was fine.
"I can do that," she said simply, dragging her nails over his forearms. It was enough agony, slow and just hardly seductive; enough for him to know to leave then.
"Okay, don't move." He winked at her and kissed her, lingering with time to to her bottom lip again. She made a sweet noise, pulling her fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead, brushing it down the back of his neck. He reached up for her hands and placed them in her lap, pressing his lips to places all over her face.
Starting the car, driving through streets, walking through doors was a blur. His body was alive and waiting for contact with her, and he couldn't shake it. It was all distractions until he was next to her again. Anxious for another distraction, he clawed through the backseat aimlessly while driving, searching for his iPod in the dark. Without it, the car was quiet and dark, just the passing lights of the city and the glow of the clock in front of him.
He pulled the drawers open at his desk, quickly testing the papers in his hand in bleak light, nearly shaking with anticipation. The office was different at night; strangely, he was aware of her desk a mere ten feet from his. How he had barely seen her in the last few months, and now she sat on his living room couch, waiting for him.
Waiting for him, as he stared in awe at the counter of her desk. He shook his head, and gathered his things before making his way back down to the car in a rush.
When he brushed through the door of his apartment, the key being perfectly stubborn in the lock, he sighed. All of his things hit the floor as he toed his shoes off, noticing her absence from the couch. He crept through the apartment, feeling like calling out her name would shatter the pretty image he knew he'd have, when he found her, wherever she was.
And she was. It was her, stretched out on his bed, eyes closed blissfully, his iPod attached to her ears. Her feet were still beautifully bare, a touch of gold with the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Her shirt had barely slid up to reveal not even an inch of skin there. She looked wonderful, and desperately indulged in the song she heard, whatever it was. He could hear the faint trace of the song coming from the speakers set in her ears, and wanted to be close enough to hear everything. To look just the way she did now.
He slipped off his socks, in pure admiration and devotion to his favorite bare feet, and settled onto the bed. She stirred immediately, and blinked with a start. He smiled when she sat up, removing the earphones and winding them around his iPod.
"Good music," she said with another slow blink of her eyes, slight nod.
He didn't notice her words, gave her his own. "You're beautiful."
She bowed her head and blushed, sticking her lips out into a smirk. He grinned to himself, knowing very well what he would do next, what was coming right now. And he bent down to meet her lips fully, slipping his tongue against them, and catching her head full of curls in his hands when she fell back, eyes all lust.
When her fingers went to the buttons on his shirt, he traced her collarbone with his finger. He ran his finger slowly across the bone, until it met the edge of her shirt and the strap on her bra, pushing them both aside to make room for his lips. An incredibly and perfectly simple moan slipped from her lips, and they fell back against the comforter noiselessly.
They ended up lost in that comforter, until his hands were spent and experienced against her waist, pairs of bare feet peeking out from under the sheets.
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Stick with me. Next chapter will be a little different.
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© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali
© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali