Disclaimer: Nothing's mine.
Come on, guys. I haven't read much lately here but I came here to scan for a few of these types of stories after THAT episode aired. Please keep in mind that I wrote most of this with an empty bottle of good ol' Arbor Mist next to me. Soooo.
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"Should we?"
I'm vaguely aware of a few things... Like, the way my brain is a champagne-kind of fuzzy, and my neck feeling warm, and his hand resting over the keys on the vending machine. But it's just... so, so background and who cares? because Jim is giving me this look like he already answered his own question.
Jim is so hot. Like, he never changes. He's the same since I wanted him and since I got him and since I've seen him naked and that one time I walked in on him in the bathroom -- going to the bathroom -- he's still hot. Sexy, hot, amazing, delicious husband Jim. Looking at me like he does, like he has since he knew it was okay to first put his hands all over me. Years ago.
God, then he smiles and it's like my body has a split right down the middle, and all of my resolve -- whatever's left after lunch, yikes -- falls apart. Just falls all to pieces.
I take a tiny step forward and grasp a little bit of his shirt in my fingers, right above his belt. His lips part when he smiles and his eyes drop.
"Do you think so?" I kind of mumble the second half of that, biting on my lip in a way I know he likes. The kind where I slowly let my lip roll out of under my teeth. It feels so stupid. But his reaction is just so good.
Jim cracks into a huge grin and touches his thumb to the back of my hand, the one that's holding onto his shirt, and starts to laugh. It's a hushed giggle kind of thing so I scrunch my nose up at him and start it, too, because it's just funny. It's so funny that we would even be talking about having sex in the office, because one of us is going to stop this eventually. Ordinarily it would be me, but, God, I actually kind of want this --
"I don't know..." Jim pulls a "yikes" kind of look and holds my hand a little tighter. I know this, even when I'm... like this. It means he's fishing a little. Which is okay. He just wants to feel it out.
I gotta think of something good.
I snap my mouth shut and give my best sober style nod, my closed eyes making the room shift just a little, in a comfortable way, though. I flatten my hand against his stomach instead, opening my eyes to watch the fabric relax under my palm.
I flit my eyes up, cocking my head and looking through lashes at his mouth. His lips, still half-smiling.
"You're right, we shouldn't do... that," I say, keeping my eyes on his mouth. "We are getting kind of... vanilla."
Before the last of it is out, I squint a little and look him right in the eye. Even drunk I can't pull this much off, and as I feel my mouth pull into a smile, his hand is firm on my shoulder. Suddenly my back is hitting the vending machine and Jim's hips are against mine and I laugh, almost really loudly, and his lips shut me up.
"Sorry," I mumble against his tongue. He starts to laugh back, but he's breathing too heavily to tell the two apart. I wonder why he's breathing so hard when it dawns on me that I'm working really hard to keep up with his kissing. So, I suppose that's why.
Jim looks so turned on and charged and... motivated that it makes me shiver. He smiles this loopy grin at me and crowds me further against the machine.
"I don't even know where..." Jim says, slowly letting his cheek rest against mine.
I look over towards the blinds and thankfully, for once, I see no one. What a strange idea.
Where? Where .. Oh!
I have a quick glimpse of Jim's body hard against me, in all these places that really really really need it right now, and maybe his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet, way up in that corner of the warehouse...
"The warehouse," I breathe out, still amused, but probably sounding a little too aroused because Jim pulls back, looking just... way less like he heard a joke and more, you know, serious about it.
"You know, in that little..." I lift my hand and do a wave with my hand, gesturing up and away. "That little thing that we went to that one time --"
He lifts his eyebrow and palms a tuft of his hair. "Should we?"
I let my head fall back against the glass and my gaze traces the line of his arm, all the way, up, up, up...
There are now four places that we've stumbled upon that have been dead ends, and for some reason this is mind-numbingly funny to both of us and also disheartening. Because every time we meet a roadblock -- like the old makeshift office/cafe disco/daycare center/whatever room being locked -- we fall back against the wall and laugh, kiss a bit, touch each other before we're trying to work our feet to another place. But each time it happens, something falls a degree in my chest. The buzz between my temples is still sweet and non-threatening, and I can tell Jim is feeling the same way by his soft eyes and constant smile... I want his hands on me. I want this to happen. So it has to. It just does.
I grit my teeth and shrug my shoulders up to my ears, arching my back, whining a little.
"Do you think we're really going to do this?" I blurt, pulling on my cardigan, watching Jim's eyes dart all around.
"Yeah," Jim says, shrugging. He lifts his brow and looks down at me. "Don't you want to?"
I nod, a little crazed, and put both of my hands on his face. We're kissing again, against the wall outside of whatever room that currently is, and Jim nudges his leg between my thighs. I moan and he stretches up and against me.
His tongue is hot against mine, his lips meshing into mine and my skin, my neck, my collarbone, staying on my collarbone. I rest my eyes in his hair, breathing in and feeling all parts of my body get warmer.
We have to find somewhere. My mind is drenched in bubbly, so we just have to.
I giggle suddenly when he gently bites me and his head shoots up, so beautifully drunk, with an expression like, "What did you think of that one?" I push an unsexy, indulgent kind of kiss onto his grinning mouth and we laugh together.
"Okay," he says, sounding kind of normal, actually. I know he's still under the influence, though, because he gives me a big hug. The kind where he's completely circled me with his arms and rests his chin on my shoulder and it's so nice, because Jim gives the best hugs, but drunk Jim gets so distracted during sexy times with lovey-dovey stuff like a hug and it makes me smile. "Okay. I have one idea."
"What?" I ask, a little dreamy-like.
"The roof," he breathes.
I shake my head, too much but not on purpose or anything. "It's February!"
"What d'you mean?" He's slurring now.
"Like, weather, Jim." I close my eyes as he starts to rock me. "Like, it's cold in February and the roof is..." I gesture up, "outside and stuff."
"Oh." He keeps rocking me side-to-side, without any kind of rhythm, until I sigh.
"If you really want to, we can, but it's going to be chilly..."
"No, I don't want to do that. I forgot about it being chilly." It's quiet, but I can hear him lick his lips.
"Because you're so hot." I snort and he tightens his arms around me. He backs up so he can kiss my smile again and then we're moving quickly again, touching each other and arching against each other. Then I do something fun; I reach down and palm him and it makes him jump a little.
"We have to find somewhere or... stop this, though." Jim nods. "Really. Those... those are our choices."
I playfully widen my eyes and stroke him through his pants. He exhales and touches his forehead to mine and we both close our eyes, while I keep my hand moving over him. I feel him grow and strain against my hand and I try to quell something by pressing my legs together, but it really, really doesn't help.
His breath quickens and I forget that we're in the hallway and think about dropping to my knees for him. I start to, but he instantly grabs my wrists to stop me, like he knows exactly what I'm going to do.
"Come on," he says without looking at me, pulling on me a little and stepping away from the wall.
My mouth moves faster than my brain can process. "I was just about to tell you the same thing." I cover my mouth and roll my head back against the wall, stifling a giggle and I hear him say something like "Oh, God" before he's pulling me away by my hand and teasing me about something, but whatever I just said is so funny that I stumble with my eyes closed in a fit of giggles before I know where we're heading.
I turn around just in time to see the packing peanuts scatter everywhere and his ankle do a twisty-thing that I cringe at. He's laughing though, so I know he's fine, but I roll my eyes and try to walk away with some attitude. He's calling out my name apologetically, and his long strides catch up with me.
He tugs on my hand until I turn around, exasperated and he kisses the back of my hand and presses it against his cheek.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I was just kidding!" He's laughing and shaking his head, his cheeks blushed from the efforts.
"I don't want to laugh about it anymore," I whine and try to pull my hand away, but he won't let me. I stomp my foot a bit for effect. "I want to be... touching you and stuff so bad."
We keep making admissions like this, and they sound so badly put together every time, but I'm desperate here. This is, like, the worst combination of hard-to-get and flirting and foreplay ever. I press up against him and his expressions changes again, slightly less goofy but I take it, and he kisses me. I follow his lips when he pulls back, and he walks me backward into a shelf. The wood is stiff against my back, and he presses his length against me, his hands wandering from my neck to my breasts and I moan into his mouth.
"We have to find a place." Jim suddenly whispers, tightening his hands over me. I grunt, kind of, and rub my hips into his. "Seriously. Where?"
I sigh again. "I don't know..." I slide my hands down his back and pull him closer. I feel him against my thigh and my thoughts swim.
There's suddenly a loud voice far away from us that makes us freeze. "Should I pull the rest of this out for the truck order?"
Jim holds my face against his shoulder as we both look around, wide-eyed. It's two o'clock on a Monday. And we're in the warehouse. Did we really think we were alone?!
The next voice must me Madge, because I'm sure she's the only woman down here. "Just all the stuff on the left, the rest of it is for tomorrow at eight, I think."
"Shit," Jim says harsh against my ear and I squeeze my eyes shut. Madge sounded a lot closer than the other voice did. Soon there's a small back and forth about the next shipment out and we're stuck against a shelf and even though my head should probably be figuring out a way to get out undetected, Jim's hands are on my waist and I can still feel everything, so.
Suddenly half of the warehouse staff is cracking up and one of them says something about Madge's coat, or something that fell out of it, and does she need it before they lock up? Lock up means leaving!
"Oh, they're leaving," I breathe gratefully, reaching up for Jim's face and pulling it down to mine. He kisses me but distractedly and shakes his head.
"It's not five yet, though, they're going to be back, right?"
I remember Roy heading to Poor Richard's with the rest of them early, still on the clock, enough times to kiss Jim hard. This kind of feels like a possibility now. "No. They won't be back. Trust me. Not for a while anyway."
There's a loud noise to power down and most of the lights go out, except a couple on the other side of the warehouse, a heavy buzzing overhead. Jim looks at me in the dim and tilts his chin down. It's probably the hottest thing I've ever seen.
I want to cry, I'm so glad to be alone. I figure we could probably go and find that bed if we wanted to, but I'm not sure my legs would work properly to do so. The thought is gone as Jim's hands end up on my waist, tight and lifting me up against the shelf. I moan loudly and rest my arms around his neck as we sink into a kiss.
I thrust all I can against his hips and he watches me for a moment before he tugs on my shirt, kisses down my neck as far as he can reach, pulling the fabric aside to kiss the tops of my breasts.
I let one of my hands fall to his head and his tongue touches my skin and then he just looks at me. His hair is a mess and he's breathing roughly through his nose and he just looks at me.
His chest heaves enough to make him nod, squinting his eyes a little in all of his distraction and he asks me, while looking me straight in the eye, "Do you really think we're... vanilla... now?"
I think of his body holding me up, what he has planned and it doesn't even take me time to think about it. "No," I say quietly, breathing as heavily as he is, looking at him intently.
We stare at each other for a second and it passes, he knows I still love us and this and that we're still excited about each other. I don't know if we'll ever not be. Last thing on my mind though, because he's pulling my sweater off and then my shirt and my bra before I can comprehend the fact that we probably shouldn't be completely naked. I try to whisper this to him but his mouth descends and he lifts me, and my hands scramble for something way above me to hold onto as he licks me, and I can't do anything but stare up at the ceiling and bite my lip, it feels so good.
I push back on his forehead so he looks up, and we meet in the middle again. It's clumsy, way uncoordinated, but I reach down and pull my skirt up and around my hips. He braces me against the support of the shelf and sticks his hand into my panties, shoving them down as far as he can before I shake them free and it seems to give us both a second wind of some kind, because in one shift, we're pushing me up further so I can wrap my legs around him. He seems so tortured with me nearly naked against him, and we're both instantly clawing at his pants.
I giggle at him, and he smiles and kisses me as he tries to get the belt undone to make this all work. When it finally falls open, his hand and my heel push his pants out of the way and there's about a half-second delay before he's holding himself and I can feel him warm on my thigh.
He kisses the side of my breast. "We don't have a condom, you know."
We don't know how Cecelia happened, basically, considering when I got pregnant with her I was taking the pill everyday at 6:45 AM and never missed a day. So we've kind of been doing the double-up thing, me sticking with the pill everyday (still at 6:45, seriously, I never forget) and using a condom, too. Just because, seriously, we don't know what happened there.
But in a drunken rush, I'm thinking a lot of things about this. That we're ordinarily so faithful and careful, surely one time without both will be okay, right? And it's been so long since I've felt him. And we're way too ahead of ourselves to quit. Really now. And having another baby with Jim is hardly the worst thing in the world, but I'm feeling confident. And ready as fucking ever for this to happen.
"That's okay," I whimper, hooking my ankles together behind his back. "Come on."
He purses his lips together in a smile and dips his fingers into me. I close my eyes and my lips fall open. "I was just about to say the same thing to you," he whispers cheekily, before he's positioning himself under me, and I sink down onto him and then we both breathe.
I murmur his name, all hoarse in my throat and he holds still for a second, relishing the feeling like I am before he braces his elbows onto the surface behind me and I get a chill in my spine, all anticipation.
For a long time, he's thrusting earnestly, breathing loud and open-mouthed against my chest, and I'm moaning, practically echoing off of the walls, above him. I feel the world go dark and then blinding behind my eyelids as I come, contracting around him and watching his face as it falls back, eyes unfocused and staring holes into me as he hands shift down to hold my waist. I watch his muscles flex and feel my legs start to shake involuntarily.
"Jim," I'm grunting now, like some kind of sex... person, and reaching for anything I can touch on him, which is pretty much just shoulders in this position. It all feels too good to even think about anything but the feeling itself, just blindingly, deliciously good that I barely notice my fingernails sinking into his skin. He moves faster until I can barely stand it anymore, my body twisting and trying to keep some kind of rhythm, until he cries out, muffled against me and stills. Kisses my chin, my neck and my mouth, and stills.
When his arms ease me down to the floor, he collapses against me and leans his forehead into my shoulder. I can feel the heat radiating from his face as his lungs try and catch up. I push my fingers into his damp hair and sigh. "I can't believe... I can't believe we just had sex. At work."
"How very..." He takes a slow breath in and out. "Un-vanilla of us."
I cup his face in my hand and look him in the eye, wondering if I look as rough as he does. "We're not vanilla."
His tired eyes size up the scene and his lips quirk. "Obviously."
We both snort and fall back against the shelf.
"I was going to make dinner for you, I really was." He sighs and pays the cab driver before shutting the door behind me. "Can we order Chinese instead? I don't know if I'm up for it. Tomorrow?"
I smile at him and take his hand, walk up to the door. "Sounds good."
The food's here soon after and Mom drops the baby off to get out for her date, and I'm basically harpooning my shrimp with a chopstick while Cece is slumped over my shoulder and dead to the world. I cross my feet in my mismatched socks and cozy back onto the couch, looking over at Jim sitting on the floor with his little carton of rice in front of him on the carpet. I catch his eye and smile.
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This story is part of the series, One to Ten. The previous story in the series is Six Weeks.
