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Part 38 : Overdue Reunion

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The office door shut, leaving me alone.  I glanced down at the phone in my hand, my heart thudding against my chest.  


What if he said 'no'?

Valentine had already told me that he didn't want to be part of the small adventures of this small town.  Dragons were made for bigger things, he'd said.  What if I begged him to return and he just laughed at me? 

Just thinking about the possibility of rejection made my chest tighten.  

My hands shook so much that I almost flung the phone across the room when it rang, vibrating in my palm.

The number was Valentine's.

Somehow, despite my racing pulse and sweat-slicked hand, I managed to slide the phone open and take the call.  My breath was so labored, it sounded like I'd just run a marathon, as I choked out: "Valentine?"

His deep rumbling voice was like a balm. "I'm already on my way."

"I love you."

#

Valentine gave his ETA to be about an hour and I spent that time wandering the Capital building.  I got a Coke from the vending machine in the basement.  Meandering in the direction of my morgue office, I trailed my fingers along the rough concrete and thought about Valentine's cold, smooth, alabaster skin and how much I missed him.

I realized I missed him with my whole body. I missed the smell of him.  I missed his weight pressing down on my body. I missed the taste of his mouth. I missed the tickle of his long hair on naked skin of my stomach. I missed the sounds he made during sex. I missed the look on his face when he came.

And... now I was not only anxious to see him, but also horny as hell.

When the basement double doors pushed open to show Valentine's trim form in silhouette, I ran to him like I was the heroine in one of those ridiculous meadow scenes, in slow-mo, the music swelling, and my dress billowing out behind me.  Only I was actually in jean shorts and my shoes made a flapping, pounding sound along a concrete block hallway with bare, flickering bulbs overhead.   But, I felt like that.  Only better, because the torso I wrapped my arms around was real and solid and smelled of leather and... gold.

I buried myself in his tee-shirt and took in the smell of him for a long breath.  Then, his hands cupped my jaw and he drew me up into a kiss.

Thin lips were cool against my fevered mouth, but his tongue slipped between my lips.  He tasted, as he often did, of something expensive and rare, like the finest tea and chocolate.  But, my heightened desire picked up a trace of something beneath, dark and dangerous, like the coppery tang of blood. It shouldn't have, but that hint of menace sent a shiver of arousal straight to my core.  My hands slid up his back to clutch at his shirt, and I felt my nipples stiffen to hard pebbles.  

I wondered what he tasted on me when we kissed.  Did I turn him on the same way, tasting of the soft drink I'd dropped somewhere in the middle of the hallway?  Did I stink of weakness, where he smelled of a beast made for battle?

His fingers worked their way up into my short hairs.  If he found me disappointing, I couldn't tell from the way he kissed me.  His kiss continued to devour me, like I was something he couldn't live without.  The possessive growl that reverberated in the back of his throat and the way his fingers clutched at my hair, heated the space between my legs.

I wanted to make love right here.

Was that awkward?

He broke our kiss to give me a mischievous smile.  "Happy to see me?

I almost said, 'Shut up and take me now,' but I figured that was too cliche.  I settled for, "My office door has a lock."

Though I would have thought it impossible, his smile grew more wicked.  "Well, then."

#

We were like school kids, giggling and rushing through the doors hand-in-hand.  I nearly fumbled the lock in my desperation to get naked.  Once it clicked shut, I turned around, pressing my back against the door, my breath coming in shallow heaves.

Valentine wasted no time.  He did that thing with this tee-shirt where it came off in some kind of single, smooth, practiced move.  I took a moment to appreciate the sight.  Was his torso longer than most?  It hardly mattered, because what I saw was the hard, sharp lines of taut muscles.  Flat stomach with just a hint of hair at the waistline, drawing the eye tantalizingly downward.  His pale skin was a stark contrast to his shockingly dark ebony hair, and thick eyelashes that did nothing to soften the flash of his intense gaze.

He was glaring at me as if to say, 'now your turn.'

So I obliged him.  I wasn't nearly as smooth at the whole disrobing thing, but, with minimal struggling, the shirt came off and I wriggled out of my sports bra just as quickly.  The air-conditioning brought goose pimples to my flesh, but my nipples were already hard and aching from need.  I undid my shorts and stepped out of them. I closed the distance between us in a near blind fever.  I wanted him out of those form hugging jeans.  My fingers closed on his belt and pulled the leather from the buckle quickly.  The zipper came down with a soft, metallic noise, mostly lost to Valentine's moan of anticipation.

I slid to my knees.

Valentine gripped the edge of my desk, his knuckles white, as I tugged down his underwear.  His cock sprang free, already stiff with arousal.

I placed a soft kiss at the tip.  Glancing up at him, I curled my tongue and licked at the dew that beaded at the slit.  He glanced down at me, his expression a mix of desire and... bewilderment.  I was sure he was surprised to see me here, doing this, but I was enjoying myself.  I wanted him to squirm a little, to know that all wasn't instantaneously forgiven, that I was still right and he was still wrong.  So, I continued to tease him with my tongue, my fingers clawing into the tough fabric of his jeans, taking extreme pleasure in the noises he made, and the way his hands flexed on the edge of the desk.  His body trembled with the effort to keep from thrusting.

By the time I took his cock into my mouth, he was sweating and I felt slick and hot with mounting wetness. He gasped and, unable to hold back any more, reached for my shoulder to gently draw me away, up.  

I wouldn't be led, though, so I took my time kissing my way up his abs, his chest... stopping to suck at his nipples, which made him snarl in frustration and wrap his legs around me, drawing us tighter together, his cock pressing into the soft flesh of my stomach.

Valentine had clearly tired of this game, and, with a strangled howl, spun us around.  He slammed by body down on my desk.  Files and papers scattered.  Some dim part of my mind registered the sound of my empty plastic flower vase clatter to the floor, but I was too busy opening my legs to him.  Our mouths clashed together violently, but he entered me slowly.  I moaned against his teeth.  My fingernails clawed at his back, silently begging him to push deeper, faster.  The friction of our bodies spiked against my sweet spot, over and over, making me pant and moan.

My body thrust into his, our passions rising together.  My skin felt like it was on fire, his every touch and every plunge bringing me to new heights.

We continued to kiss, but I'd lost the ability to think even enough to follow the motions of his tongue in my mouth.  In a shuddering rush, I came hotly.

His heat exploded inside me a moment later.

He collapsed against me, and we clung together breathing hard.  Despite how happy I was at this moment, I snarked, "Small town isn't so small when I'm in it, is it?"

His laughter was a rumble against my body, "No, it isn't."


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