The Importance of Sex and Pancakes, Chapter 5
Title: The Importance of Sex and Pancakes
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Well, we've reached the end here! Thank you to everyone who's gone on this little romp with me. It was fun, I have to admit! But before I give you the final chapter, I have to extend heaps of gratitude on the most fantastic beta ever, supercontenta , who not only chased me around yelling "Smut! You should write smut!", but was instrumental in the creation of the title of this piece. And by "instrumental", I mean she pretty much came up with it because I have absolutely zero talent when it comes to titles. So supes, my friend, in your honor, I contacted the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade people, and they were so overcome with my story, so touched, that they agreed to name this year's parade...Supercontenta Day Parade instead! Yes, it's true! And they said you could borrow The Rockettes free of charge! I sincerely hope this at last demonstrates my deep and abiding appreciation! And to everyone else - please enjoy the show. And when you get to the end of the parade route, please dig into some delicious pancakes...on the house (with as much whipped cream as you like - *ahem, junebuggy01 *)!
Now. On with the story....
Read Chapter 1 here
Read Chapter 2 here
Read Chapter 3 here
Read Chapter 4 here
Chapter 5
Pepa woke the next morning, stretched, and rolled to her right, reaching for Silvia in her half-asleep state. There were only a handful of things better than a morning cuddle with her wife, and after last night, she was more than ready to wrap herself around the redhead and press her face into the side of her neck. What that might lead to…well…one could only hope.
However, when she reached across, all she encountered was an empty space and cool sheets. Frowning, she sat up and blinked and looked around. Silvia wasn’t in the room, and the door to the bathroom was open and there was no light inside. Pepa sat still and listened. There was nothing for a moment, and then at last she heard the telltale sounds of someone moving around in the kitchen.
Sighing, Pepa threw off the covers, and pausing only long enough to pull on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, marched down to the kitchen. Really. Could Silvia not take a break from housework for a day? They had only a couple hours left to themselves, and Pepa had definite plans for them. And they did not include tidying the house or scrubbing the kitchen sink. And after what they’d talked about last night. Obviously, Pepa was going to have create some “alone time” rules. She started ticking them off in her head.
Rule #1: When you’re in bed, and you’re naked, stay there….
But as Pepa got closer to the kitchen, she became aware of the most delicious smell, light and sweet. She inhaled deeply. And when she rounded the corner, her eyes were greeted by about the sexiest thing Pepa could imagine. There was Silvia, clad only in a pair of underwear and Pepa’s own button-down shirt from the night before, working on what looked like a griddle full of pancakes. Pepa’s favorite. Well, she amended, taking in the curve of Silvia’s legs where the shirt ended, favorites.
She leaned against the door jam, crossed her arms, and took in the sight, watching as Silvia expertly flipped a batch and then slid them into the oven to keep warm. She poured more batter.
“What are you doing out of bed, Pelirroja?” she drawled at last, thinking the sudden sound of her voice might make Silvia jump. But her wife simply continued to keep a watchful eye on the griddle.
“If you’re going to surprise someone,” the redhead commented without turning around, “You’re going to have to do a better job than that.”
Pepa grinned and sauntered up behind her wife. She slid her hands around her hips.
“Oh, yeah?” she purred in Silvia’s ear. “I did a pretty good job surprising you last night, if I recall.”
“Maybe,” the smaller woman allowed, amusement in her voice. “But I know why you came stomping down here just now like an entire herd of elephants. You thought I was out here cleaning.”
Pepa bit back a smile. “I thought no such thing,” she said diplomatically.
Silvia snorted softly. “Mmmhmm.”
Then she at last turned her head to the side, and after meeting Pepa’s eyes with a look that made Pepa shiver, she reached up to steal a long, lazy kiss. Pepa’s hands almost immediately tightened on her hips, and she pulled her wife back to nestle against her. Silvia groaned in reaction, pressing against her. Pepa was instantly intoxicated. It was as if last night released the flood gates, and Pepa felt like she had when they first started dating and she quite simply couldn’t get enough of the redhead. She was about ten seconds away from dragging her wife back to bed and letting the pancakes burn into little briquettes when Silvia managed to pull away.
“Behave,” she told Pepa, swatting at her with the spatula. “I’m cooking.” Pepa snatched her hand away, but still did not let go of the smaller woman, wrapping her arms back around her from behind when she determined it was safe. Leaning forward she nestled her head on Silvia’s shoulder, peering at the pancakes.
“So, you didn’t answer my question. What are you doing out of bed? We don’t have to pick Maya up for another two hours. And I was kinda hoping I was going to get lucky again.”
Silvia flipped a couple of the pancakes and then turned in Pepa’s arms and looked up at her. Pepa waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and she could tell Silvia was trying to keep a straight face.
“You are going to get lucky. You’re going to get fed.”
“That’s not the kind of luck I’m thinking about just now, Princess,” Pepa explained, leaning down to kiss her neck. Once more, her touch got a definite reaction as Silvia arched and sighed softly, and Pepa took the opportunity to slide her tongue over her collarbone and then into the hollow of her throat. She reached up and undid the top button of Silvia’s shirt, revealing a patch of soft skin, which she did not hesitate to cover with her mouth.
God, this must be what Heaven was like - the smell of pancakes in the air and a gorgeous, semi-dressed redhead in her arms. A redhead whose breath caught when her mouth brushed over a particularly sensitive bit of skin. She reached for the second button and almost successfully had it undone before Silvia once again pushed her away.
“Pepa,” she admonished.
Pepa groaned and straightened up. “Damn it, Silvia, you’re killing me.”
With the hand not holding the spatula, Silvia reached and grabbed Pepa’s wrist, fingers on her pulse. “You’ll live,” Silvia replied dryly.
Pepa pouted, but her wife pretended not to notice as she glanced behind her to check her breakfast’s progress. Satisfied, she put the spatula down before reaching out and tugging on Pepa’s t-shirt.
“Hey. Do you know why I’m making pancakes this morning?”
Pepa considered the question. “Because,” she said after a long pause, “I made you scream three, no…” she touched her thumb to each of her fingers as she glanced up at the ceiling and made a show of counting. “…four times last night?”
Silvia broke out in a smile and poked Pepa in the ribs. “You weren’t exactly quiet yourself.”
Pepa pulled Silvia closer.
“Do you think the neighbors will complain?”
“Mmmm, I hope so,” Silvia replied, grabbing another kiss. “It means we’re doing something right.”
Pepa lifted an eyebrow. “I think we did a lot right last night, Silvia.”
Silvia looked up at her wife with a soft, sincere expression.
“Yes, we did,” she agreed. “And that’s one of the reasons I’m making pancakes. Because I want to thank you, Pepa. For knowing this is what I, what we, needed. For reconnecting us. It was amazing. You’re amazing. Thank you. I love you.”
Pepa found her eyes unexpectedly filling with tears.
“You’re welcome,” she answered, her voice rough with emotion. “You’re pretty amazing yourself. I love you too.” Pepa kissed her. “But you know, we can’t just forget about last night. I love Maya with all my heart, and I wouldn’t trade our life now for anything, but this is important too. We need to find time for ourselves.”
Silvia nodded. “I know. You’re right. And we’re going to. I promise. We’re going to work on it.”
Pepa touched Silvia’s cheek. “Good. Because, my God, woman….”
She leaned down for a slow kiss, Silvia’s mouth opening under hers. She felt Silvia smile against her.
Hands sliding into unruly red curls, Pepa really intended for it to be just a kiss. But she almost immediately felt desire surge through her, suddenly wanting nothing more than to satisfy the ache for the woman in her arms, right there in the kitchen if necessary. Their bedroom suddenly seemed very far away.
She was just about to turn Silvia to lift her against the table, when Silvia somehow anticipated her move, and twisted in her arms, just out of reach. However, she wasn’t quite fast enough, and Pepa just managed to undo another button of her shirt before she scooted away.
Silvia arched an eyebrow at her when she noted her shirt was now halfway undone. Pepa smiled with gleeful satisfaction. But instead of scolding her as expected, Pepa watched as Silvia reached down and undid another button, and then another, until the shirt hung open. Pepa’s eyes went wide.
“Now,” Silvia said in a reasonable tone, “The temptation is gone. Would you like to eat your pancakes before they burn to a crisp?”
Gone? Temptation gone? Was she serious?!
Pepa stared at her wife and the tantalizing path of skin that was now visible from her throat to the top of her panties, the material clinging to her breasts, just hinting at what was underneath. It was skin just begging for Pepa’s touch, for her mouth.
“Pepa? You’re drooling. Pancakes or no?”
Pepa tried to focus, but she was having a hard time tearing her eyes away from the exposed skin and what it promised. She looked up at Silvia.
“Are you going to eat like that?” she finally managed.
Silvia glanced down, seemingly surprised at her state of undress and the effect it was having on Pepa.
“Mmmhmm,” she replied, “I think so. Why not?”
Pepa could currently think of a million reasons why not, not least of which that the hint of Silvia’s breasts was about to make her legs give way from underneath her.
Silvia turned back to the griddle, appearing largely unconcerned with the fact that Pepa was two seconds away from dying, and started scooping pancakes onto a plate.
Pepa grabbed the back of a chair with a shaky hand.
“I don’t think I can eat, Silvia,” she told her.
Silvia glanced back at Pepa, and a Cheshire cat grin spread over her face.
“Oh, you’re going to eat,” she stated, walking toward her. “That’s the other reason I made breakfast.” She glanced at the clock on the wall and then back at Pepa. “You’re going to need your strength. We’ve got an hour and a half, and I’m not nearly done with you yet.”