Maybe we figure it out in the morning... || Chenford / The Rookie

Part 5

The wait is excruciating; Lucy feels like she has walked herself to the edge of a cliff, and the agony of what the fall is going to feel like is starting to creep in as doubt takes hold of her heart. Has she completely misread this? Has she crossed a line they won't be able to come back from?

Panic building in her chest, she can't wait any longer, and pulls herself back from him. "T-Tim, I —"

And then in the next moment it's like she's being knocked over by a wave in the ocean, unable to tell up from down. He is crashing into her, mouth covering hers, kissing her with an urgency and franticness she didn't know anyone — let alone calm, cool, *almost* always in control Tim Bradford — was capable of.

One of his hands has found its way up under the shirt he's lent her to span across the bare skin of her back, pulling her impossibly closer to him — practically into his lap — while his other hand is cradling her face, gently guiding her as he continues explore her mouth with his. She still tastes like a piña colada or whatever that fruity shit was that she had been downing at the bar, and he cannot get enough of her.

And then, just as suddenly, Lucy is laughing uncontrollably, efficiently killing the moment as she topples back from him, unable to regain control of herself.

Tim looks stunned, to say the least. "What the hell, boot?" he accuses, annoyance with maybe just a tinge of amusement coloring his expression, his confusion evident.

Lucy works to catch her breath, and get her giggling under control. "I'm sorry — I'm sorry — it's just — have you ever built something up in your head so much to the point that when it actually happens, it's just 'PWAH!'?" she exclaims, using her hands to mimic a tiny explosion.

Tim stares at her, cocking an eyebrow ever so slightly. "So you're telling me, this," he gestures between the two of them, "is something you've been building up in your head... since... when was that again, boot?"

Her cheeks are flaming as she realizes the door she's unintentionally opened coming down from her making-out-with-Tim-Bradford induced high. "Uhhh — no. NO. Well, I mean... yes, but — not in any serious way... I mean... God, I'm only human — you can't expect me to have not had any hot T.O. fantasies in that last 18 months."

His eyes are dancing with amusement, as he clears his throat, "Hot T.O. fantasies, huh boot?"

Lucy's still laughing, but can't help but drop her gaze to the sand in embarrassment, wondering what the likelihood of an earthquake swallowing her up into the earth is at this very moment. So she doesn't see him coming when he yanks her back towards him and recaptures her mouth with his own.

Her surprised and joyful laughter quickly fades as the intensity skyrockets between them once again.

Her hand, somehow managing to be both tentative and bold, slowly begins to explore the firm skin of his stomach just under the hem of his T-shirt as Tim tugs the borrowed over shirt down and off of her shoulder, exposing more bare skin for his mouth to explore. Lucy tilts her head back to allow him greater access and barely suppresses a moan as his mouth finds the spot between her neck and shoulder, just above the tie of her halter dress. His other hand finds the curve of her knee before sliding up the length of her thigh, stopping short before beginning to toy with the hem of that damn dress that has somehow found it's way even further up her leg.

Her whole body is alight with his touch, and she's grateful for a moment to suck in a deep breath of fresh air. Every one of her senses is completely overwhelmed with Tim Bradford, and it is absolutely intoxicating.

And then, suddenly, it's him that is unexpectedly pulling away, breaking the fiery contact between them and leaving her cold as he flops backward onto the sand, hands covering his face as something between a groan and a laugh escapes him.

When he finally removes his hands, he's staring directly up at a stunned Lucy. "What the fuck are we doing, boot?"

Even though there is laughter in his expression, Lucy can also see that he is deeply conflicted, that he is carrying the burden of knowing this may be worse for her than it is for him and is still agonizing over whether he's doing the right thing.

Lucy sighs, staring up at the stars, struggling to connect this strange, long, incredible night back to the reality that daylight is sure to bring. "I — I don't know, Tim... but maybe — maybe we just..." she trails off.

"Just what, boot?

She deflects before responding, shoving his arm playfully, "I'm thinking you should probably stop calling me that."

"Probably," he says nodding in agreement as he boosts himself up on his elbows, his hand finding her knee and giving it a squeeze. "But, I'd also really hate to ruin any aspect of your 'Hot T.O.' fantasy. What did I call you in those?" he teases, eyes shining with laughter.

Lucy groans and buries her head in her hands, hair falling forward to provide a curtain for her mortification to hide behind. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Not a chance in hell, boo— Lucy," he catches himself, shifting upward momentarily, just enough so he can reach over and push her hair back from her face. "What were you going to say, Lucy?" he asks as he relaxes back on his elbows.

She looks at him coyly, biting back a smile, before shrugging. "Maybe we just figure it out in the morning?"

His eyebrows leap up at the insinuation, and he stares up at her, shaking his head in amused disbelief before reaching up to pull her over on top of him so that they can finish what they started.

***
And there you have it — the return of the hot T.O. fantasy 😂! Hope you enjoyed — thanks for reading ❤️