She's Looking at the Stars & Dazzle These Nights Dead (Mark/Addison)
Title: She’s Looking at the Stars/Dazzle These Nights Dead
Rating: PG-13/NC-17.
Pairing: Mark/Addison. Derek is in there for five minutes so I could write a dodgeball conversation.
Summary: A Halloween party that required costumes, nudity, or thirty bucks.
Note: There's a bit where Addison waxes poetic in the second half. Edmund Spencer wrote that, not me.
Titles = Kill Hannah
The first time he saw her, he thought she looked like a goddess.
Literally.
Smiling and laughing near the back corner, her long red hair pulled up in intricate curls and spirals, tiara sparkling as she moved, white dress shimmering with glitter designs flowing out around her from the wind blowing through the window, faint lightning threatening a storm.
October 31st. Halloween. All Hallow’s Eve. Whatever you wanted to call it, the date had ceased meaning getting dressed up in something scary and betraying dentists everywhere into getting dressed up in something sexual and betraying liver specialists everywhere.
Somehow he had found himself invited to the University of Chicago’s cross country team’s annual Halloween party. Costumes required (or pay a hefty cover charge) and a stern direction to bring something consumable. Anything. Which led to a collection of king-sized candy bars, packs of gum, questionable fruit and brownies that likely weren’t legal, among the traditional chips, salsa, cookies and pizza sitting on the table.
It was a jock party, mostly, and a large number of the teams had chosen to dress similarly. The men’s hockey team went as superheroes, women’s lacrosse as inmates, the cross country and track teams had paired up to go as famous couples (the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers was particularly amazing). Wrestling seemed to have the I Don’t Care But Show Off Your Muscles rule.
Normally he would avoid these things, large parties (especially ones that required any sort of thought and creativity) weren’t his thing, but too many people had said they would see him there for him to pass. He was glad he had: a chance to see people outside of locker rooms and uniforms, many women not wearing much and a free supply of alcohol with the gift of a bag of chips.
The swim and dive teams went as mythological beings. Their captains were both fluent in Latin and Ancient Greek.
She was talking with another goddess (though perhaps Norse), a mermaid (Siren, he was later corrected), and a Juliet. He overheard bits of their conversation, sixteen-hundred meter, medley relay, triple back twist, four-five and absently swirled his glass (something that, at one point, may have been intended to be red wine) until someone smacked him on the back.
“Friends, Romans, countrymen.” A voice grinned from behind him. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Sloane. Though the toga suits you well.”
Mark smiled and shook his head, raising his glass to clink (as much as plastic can clink) with his friend’s. “Shepherd. I didn’t peg you for the Shakespeare type.” He looked closer in the dark. “Though well done, James Dean.” Draining his cup, he made a disgusted face but refilled it anyway. Caesar may as well be drinking wine, right?
“I wasn’t aware they let the kids picked last in kickball into these things.” He looked over the other man’s shoulder, keeping an eye on the redhead who now seemed to be happily tipsy.
Derek shrugged absently. He didn’t play any sport and never had (unless a two-year forced stint in soccer counted), but half of the men’s basketball team were seniors in advanced organic chemistry lab he TA’ed and he was deemed cool enough to be invited. He suspected it was because he wasn’t much more than a year older than them (and therefore hadn’t yet lost the fun genes), but mostly because he let them detour briefly into the area of distilling their own alcohol a few weeks back.
“Just because I was picked last doesn’t mean I was bad. Who’s the girl?” He tilted his head in the direction of the goddess Mark had been overtly staring at and who didn’t seem to notice he was there.
“But you were liquefied in playground dodge ball.” Mark shrugged. “I don’t know.” She seemed familiar, though it could’ve been the lighting and the wine. “I think she’s a distance swimmer, she’s too tall to be a diver.”
Taking Mark’s empty cup, Derek poured the rest of a bottle of wine into their glasses and handed it back. “My one weakness. Go talk to her.” He glanced at his friend, who had turned to lean his back against the wall.
“Go talk to whom?” She was suddenly there, stealing Mark’s cup from his hand and lifting an eyebrow when she sipped it. “You don’t want this stuff.” Looking quickly around her, satisfied that no one was watching, she knelt down and felt underneath the table, grinning and proudly displaying a decent bottle of red wine after a few seconds of searching. She grinned innocently and tossed her shoulders, making quick work of the cork.
“Don’t tell anyone I did that,” her voice dropped a level and an octave as she poured the two men fresh glasses, “it’s supposed to be for VIPs only, and I don’t know if you are. But,” she sipped from her own glass, “I figure that Caesar here has been staring at me for about an hour and the least I can do is get him something decent to drink.”
Who the hell are you? Mark wondered. Derek caught some cue and hurried off to the other side of the room, muttering an excuse about wanting an apple. The woman smirked at him, clearly knowing what was on his mind.
“So, wrestling?” She leaned her shoulder against the wall, a clap of thunder and sudden downpour of rain causing her to glance out the window. The blowing wind and light patterns caused by the trees almost out of leaves seemed to suit the theme.
“The half-naked thing gave it away, didn’t it?” He smiled at her giggle and nod. This is awkward, he thought; he vaguely remembered possibly meeting her, and had no idea whether she remembered or if it had even happened.
She slid back in an attempt to not be in the direct line of the rain now blowing through the open window; white dresses and water were always a bad idea but it was too hot in the house to shut it.
Laughing, she nodded. “Just a little.” She looked up at him, not something she had to do often. “Addison,” she offered her hand.
No, definitely never met her before, he thought, shaking her hand in return. “Mark. Nice to meet you.” He smiled at her, the smile that almost always got someone in trouble. It didn’t seem to have any effect on her, though she didn’t exactly seem disinterested either. “Oh, God,” he groaned, looking over her shoulder. “Welcome, rugby team.”
A cadre of pirates poured in, complete with swords and eye patches and individual jugs of rum, bringing half of the storm with them. A very loud, very enthusiastic and very drunken chorus of “Yo Ho A Pirates Life For Me” had Addison turning and doubling over in laughter, and Mark seeing an opportunity in the middle of rolling his eyes.
He slipped his arm around her when she stood up straight and twirled her around. He gave her a quick moment to realize what was going on (he thought it generally unfair to catch people entirely off-guard) and kissed her. No tongue, just lips, but enough to taste the wine, her lip gloss and something else he decided was the cliché “her.”
Addison carefully pushed away from him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She wasn’t angry or offended, just surprised, and she hated surprises even when they were kisses from an attractive man in a room with flickering lights. They were in a corner, it was likely no one had seen and, the way the power was going, it was likely that no one would see anything in a few minutes. It wasn’t that she didn’t want anyone to see her kissing someone, it was that she had a reputation (an unfair and incorrect one) for being the prude of the swimming team and didn’t want to ruin it (since it had proved useful against many a questionable guy) by being seen kiss him back.
The power cut just after she saw him shrug and smirk as an answer. Lightning sporadically lit up the room and everyone cheered or screamed or otherwise did something loud. Alcohol and thunderstorms and Halloween do strange things to people.
She stepped toward him, ignoring the rain on her dress, and leaned in close, lips barely touching his. “That isn’t an answer,” she whispered and darted her tongue out to lick a remaining drop of wine off his bottom lip. He moved to close the space between them and she took a step back, keeping the distance but softly shaking her head. “Neither is that.” She brushed her lips gently over his, pulling away when she felt him try to take it farther.
Emptying her cup in one last swallow, she tossed in the nearest trashcan behind her and raised an eyebrow at him. A silent dare. Hard To Get was her specialty, and probably what earned her that reputation she almost hated, and she especially loved it when she knew she had someone who wasn’t going to give up. Like Mark, who was looking at her with darkened eyes and a grin that said he was going to play along.
“A kiss is just a kiss, you know.” He pulled her back against him, the skirt of her dress catching in the wind seemed suited to the moment, until they vaguely registered that two people were sword fighting on the table and he walked them out of disaster’s way and next to another window. The wind didn’t change. A flash of light reflected against the glitter that had been perfectly dusted across her bare shoulders and cheeks, in her hair.
“And I suppose Caesar kissing Calliope in a dark corner isn’t revising centuries of thought.” She slid forward; anyone looking would think they were touching, but she kept her cheek just barely away from his, whispering in his ear. “I’ll let the Casablanca reference go if you tell me who she is.”
Mark smiled in the dark. “Mmm, hello muse, I thought you looked familiar.” He felt her grin against her will, happy that he knew it. “Personally I never appreciated epic poetry.” He turned his head and touched her cheek with his lips. “So perhaps you’d be better off as Erato.” Dropping his hand to her waist, he grazed his fingers against hers before he pulled it back. “At least for tonight.”
She laughed lowly, sensually, and he shivered when he felt her tongue softly on his neck, and again when she replaced it with her lips. “And I suppose you could forget Caesar and be Eros.” She paused. “At least for tonight,” she mimicked his phrasing. Addison ran a fingernail across the bare skin exposed just above his hip. “Then it would just be perfect.” She leaned her cheek against his. “Wouldn’t it?” The distance between them disappeared as he inhaled in deeply when she breathed the question into his ear. She left it that way.
The insanity they had tried so hard to ignore became too much and the moment broken when Superman nearly fell into Addison, who leaned against Mark. Mark caught himself on the wall, and put an arm around her as support. They grinned at each other and laughed. He threaded his fingers through his and gestured to the door with his head, hoping it wasn’t too forward.
“It’s pouring,” she whispered. She slid forward, slipping her free arm around his back. “And I’m wearing white.”
“So am I.” He dipped his head down, nearly kissing her again. “But the power’s out, no one will see anything if they aren’t looking.” A barely perceptible brush of his lips against hers. “Besides, the muse of erotic poetry couldn’t possibly have worn much.” He toyed with the back of her dress. “You’re out of character.”
She returned the favor and smiled at him, devious and suddenly not caring. “Then so are you.” She followed the tug of his hand out the door.
He caught her and pulled her back into his arms as soon as they were on the sidewalk outside the house. Cupping her cheeks, he tilted her head up to face his and kissed her properly, though held back his tongue and grinned when she tried to glare at him. The rain immediately soaked their clothing and he smiled in appreciation at what he saw through hers.
Addison tipped her head and gave him an approving eyebrow raise, even without lights she could see everything she wanted.
“So,” he rapidly stepped back toward her, closing any gaps and sticking their clothing together. “Who lives closer?” he breathed into her ear, dropping his voice, and admired nature’s timing with a clap of thunder.
She took a step back and laced her fingers through his. “Inside is out of character, dear Eros,” she pulled him a step toward her, sliding an arm around his shoulders to brush the back of his neck. “And not nearly as fun.” She felt his facial muscles tighten in confusion. “Plus, you said that nobody will see if nobody is looking.” She gestured around them, the empty streets, the living rooms lit up by candlelight for reading, two people walking outside were not cause for interest if they could be seen at all. “And I doubt anyone worth knowing will be looking.” She caught his chin and turned it to face hers, kissing his mouth gently, but full on, with a hint of tongue.
He still hesitated, he would be with this all the way if they’d end up in her apartment, his room in the frat house down the street, the abandoned building two blocks over, but outside? Like this? New. “I assume you have some sort of set up, a predetermined place full of palm fronds and pomegranates and cherubs singing when appropriate.” He returned her kiss and gave her mouth two hints of his tongue.
Addison laughed, the first real laugh he’d heard from her for the evening. “No.” She turned so her back was pressed against his stomach and felt his arms immediately slide around her. “But…” she angled her head to whisper into his ear. “The astronomy tower is two blocks away and can open up to show all of this.” She lifted her neck higher, intentionally inviting his tongue. “Urania gave me the keys.” He whispered a thought against her neck and dipped her backwards. “Attached to my underwear,” she breathed into his mouth when he pulled her back up.
Mark knew he was in trouble. And in trouble in a very big way, he thought, Addison’s fingers trailing down his side, just barely sliding underneath the sheet sticking to his body. He had no idea where the astronomy tower was, choosing to follow her gentle pull on his hand.
“This could be considered public indecency, you know,” he drew a slow line down her bare back, satisfied with her shiver that couldn’t have been entirely due to the rain. “I can see right through your dress.” Enough to know that she hadn’t been lying about the keys; a small clip attached the three keys to the side strap of her thong. He quickened his pace to match hers when they turned a corner, recognizing the tall building ahead backlit by lightning.
She stopped at the door, her hand reaching behind her to thread through the back of her dress for the keys. He caught her hand in his, smiling at her, tracing the curve of her hip with the other, dipping gently and excruciatingly slowly into the folds of the fabric to unclip the ring. Addison had closed her eyes (thanking whoever had suggested the loose backless halter dress) in a failed attempt to control her breathing, opening them when she felt him pull his hands away and close her hand around the keys.
“And that wasn’t publicly indecent?” She looked up at him with barely open eyes, lips nearly touching his. Content that he was distracted enough, she slid a key into the lock and turned it, resting a hand on the door handle, the other carefully touching his chest.
He leaned in to kiss her, forcing her hand to fully press against him; she slowly grabbed the front of his toga, long fingernails just touching skin as she curled her fingers around the sheet. Returning the kiss, she pushed on handle and bumped it open with her hip, pulling him in behind her out of the rain.
Mark let go and opened his eyes to see Addison smirking, pleased with herself at his shock. She kicked the door shut and locked it behind them.
“That wasn’t fair.”
“Really.” She took a step forward.
“Now I can’t see you.” He took a step forward.
“You can always touch.” The darkness provided a cover for the redness that shot to her cheeks, throwing years of private Catholic school out the window in one sentence.
She didn’t have to reach far to take his hand in hers. Taking the lead again, she started them up the stairs, holding her dress up with her other hand so she wouldn’t trip. Though several flashes of lightning lit up the staircase enough for her to see where they were headed, she carefully counted steps despite how much Mark tried to distract her with his fingers and her lower back.
A second door and the second key pushed easily into the lock and turned with a click. He reached around her, arm barely brushing hers, and twisted the handle to open the door in front of her. The hinges groaned and she swallowed, suddenly feeling as if they were doing something terribly wrong and devious but slipped in through the doorway anyway.
Terribly wrong and devious felt very, very right.
Mark followed her and slid the key ring back into her hand after he had flipped the deadbolt.
Thunder echoed through the walls of the old building and the rain picked up, pounding on the roof and outside landings. Addison had a brief flashback to sixth grade science and Benjamin Franklin with his key in a lightning storm, but then Mark’s fingers were lightly touching her face, tucking stray curls behind her ears, brushing a few drying strands out of her eyes. Her eyes fluttered shut as he cupped her cheek, his hands soft against her damp skin.
She moved closer to him so their bodies were fully touching and it was only then, when she felt just how hard he was, that she realized how wet she was and it wasn’t a function of the rain. One more door, she thought, one more and then we’re back outside under the roof.
“Hm…I don’t suppose Eros ever was subtle,” she smirked, hand brushing his thigh. She deftly twisted her shoulders and slipped her body past him to unlock the last door. She glanced back at him, silhouetted by violent lightning, beckoning him with a seductive tilt of her head.
He let the door slam behind him, the sound lost in the weather, and joined her under the overhang, protected from, yet not out of, the rain. The wind picked up, gently blowing droplets toward them, and Mark quieted thoughts of waterfalls when he looked up to see sheets of rain pouring off the roof.
“We really must have pissed off Zeus,” he whispered, stepping behind her. He caught her hand and snuck the keys out of her grasp, dancing his fingers along the edges of her dress. Careful to not move the fabric too out of line, he reached through the back, pushing her limits of remaining still, and returned the key ring where it belonged.
Years of relays and laps and training had toned her body within easy reach of perfection; he kept his hand under the fabric and traced her hipbone with his fingers. Exposed and obvious, but healthy, surrounded by muscles and tendons he felt tighten at his touch and again, with her sudden breath, when he covered the other. His thumbs trailed to the edges of her thong, teasing just below, though his hands remained on solidly on her hips.
She tried to face him, and he stilled her with a gently tight grip on her waist. “Stay still,” he smiled.
“Why?” Addison turned her head, unintentionally allowing him to touch her neck.
Mark brushed his lips against her skin, speaking in kisses.
“Because you’re gorgeous,” his hands wandered up her flat stomach, hidden muscles fluttering under his touch.
“And a muse,” he kissed behind her ear.
“And it’s my job,” his mouth traveling, carefully blowing on the wet skin on the back of her neck.
“As Eros,” he tugged her other earlobe gently with his teeth.
“To make you feel,” fingers grazing too-slowly upward.
“Just for tonight,” hands resting just underneath her breasts.
“As loved,” he whispered, angling his head to face hers, “as possible.”
She turned in his arms as his lips caught hers and refused to let him stop. Maybe they had met before in some other life, a first draft of Greek canonical mythology later split into different chapters, different volumes, because he knew her; he knew that she liked gentle permission rather than forceful, even if it was obvious she wanted it; he knew just when to bite her lower lip and how hard. And she knew him; that he liked to lead; that he liked surprises.
His hands slipped out of her dress to find their way to her hair, a lost cause the moment they walked outside, and buried his fingers through loose wet strands. Who are you, she thought as her knees gave out just a little and he quickly caught her, letting go of the kiss. He smiled when he noticed she had already caught herself with her arms around his shoulders. Standing her back up steady on her feet, he looked down at her for some sort of sign.
Dark eyes met dark eyes.
She darted her tongue out and licked her lips, regaining her stability and confidence. This was far out of her element, but the intrigue of the safe danger of it - and her success - reassured her. She back away from him, far enough that she could breathe but close enough that he could hear.
“For I that rule in measure moderate,” she took a step, catching his left hand and brushing it gently.
“The tempest of that stormy passion,” a silent thank you to the thunder and lightning timing as she leaned over and kissed his shoulder, letting his hand drop back down.
“And use to paint in rhymes the troublous state,” she took two more steps, now fully behind him, drawing a line down his back with her fingernail.
“Of lovers life in likest fashion,” from behind, she eased her palm flat against his stomach and slid it slowly underneath the fabric of his toga.
“Am put from practise of my kindly skill,” her hand traveled lower, fingers curling to tickle his skin.
“Banished by those that love with lewdness fill,” she stilled her hand and bit down gently on his neck, following it with a kiss after his sharp intake of breath.
Mark slowly turned after a moment, her hand slipping around to his back as he moved. “You win, Muse.”
She tipped her head in acknowledgement and closed her eyes as he easily teased her lips open with his tongue and backed her away from the rain. He still tasted like wine and she was sure she did, too. Somewhere on the way he had lifted the halter of her dress over her head. She stopped before he went any further and placed a finger to his lips when he opened his mouth to speak. Addison deftly popped open a small hidden supply closet and pulled out a blanket, laying it on a generally dry section of the roof with one expert throw. He wasn’t sure whether to be shocked, surprised or impressed.
Laughing, she tugged him toward her, about to make a remark about astronomers on cloudy nights, but her laugh quickly turned into a soft gasp as he began peeling her dress off of her. So slowly that he was in danger of having her help him, but then he had finally pulled it down (how she hadn’t noticed his work on the thong too would be a mystery for her for years) and it was off and away.
Kneeling in front of her from where he had dropped the dress, Mark’s followed the curves of her body with his hands as he slowly stood back up, muscle tone and definition, admiring the work in her calves, thighs, abs and shoulders. He traced down her arms; biceps, triceps and forearms, the strength hidden there he knew could rival his own if she so wanted. Finally up to his full height, he looked her in the eyes.
Normally Addison felt vulnerable at this point, completely naked in front of a relative stranger even if they had just spent the last hour or so having flirtatious word sex together. Normally Mark felt confident and cocky, would simply go for it without any formalities. But she felt sexual and he felt rather put in his place by her, so it should have been no surprise that his toga was pushed easily to the ground and his boxers caught a gust of wind off the roof, but it was.
Their skin was sticky from a sensual combination of rain and sweat, shining in the occasional burst of light. Mark kissed her and gently eased Addison down onto the blanket, holding himself up slightly above her. She opened her eyes and smiled; all hints of the devious and teasing muse of before were gone: it was just her and Mark smiled back; equally genuine though he was always devious when it came to women, feigning god complex or not. He placed one last kiss on her lips and gently closed her eyelids with his fingers.
“Just feel,” he breathed in her ear and brushed a trail of kisses down her cheek to her collarbone. One hand slithered over her stomach, circling around her belly button, up to the swell of her breasts, but not quite there. He smiled to himself as she arched her back in response to his attention to her neck (she would need to cover that up tomorrow), and edged his palm up ever so slightly so that when she laid back down his fingers would be touching just where she wanted. She gasped.
As he left her neck and circled around her nipple with his tongue, her hands came up to play in his hair; tossing aside the laurel wreath, she toyed with the dirty blonde hair in desperate need of a haircut but that thought disappeared the second she felt his fingers between her thighs. She let go, spreading her legs and following his advice (command?). He smiled into her chest, switching sides as he teased her with one finger, painfully slowly and not far enough. He added a second playful finger, feeling her getting frustrated. Without warning he slid both into her and sucked her nipple into his mouth at the same time.
Addison moaned. She wasn’t usually vocal during sex, a few gasps here and quiet moans there, but she was never loud. A feeling inside of her told her that Mark had a goal to make her scream. Though she later thought the immediate feeling may have had something to do with him speeding up and, when she was ready, adding a third.
Kissing and licking his way down the rest of her body, he worked to keep up his rhythm and keep her steady, settling a hand on one hip to hold her still. He curled up his fingers as they left her and occasionally twisted them as he pushed in; something she had never felt before and never wanted to forget. It took only one brush of his tongue to send her over the edge and neighbors would have complained had there been any and had they been able to hear.
He kept her there until just before he knew she couldn’t take any more. Her hips stilled and he slowly pulled out his fingers, licking them clean, and slid up to meet her eager lips for a kiss. He laid down next to her, drawing on her stomach with one finger, giving her time to recover and breathe, shaking his head every time she reached for him or made like she was going to take over.
“I told you, beautiful,” he smiled at her pout and kissed her cheek, “it’s my job to take care of you tonight.” He dropped his voice, bringing them back to their earlier banter.
She couldn’t really find a way to argue with that without sending her sex drive back into reverse so she didn’t. “Well then, far be it for me to get in your way,” she spread her legs barely perceptibly, but her calf rubbed up against his and he knew what she was hinting toward.
The weather had picked up again after a brief respite while they were lying together. Mark mentally retracted his earlier statement; Zeus couldn’t be that angry if he was timing everything right. He took it as a sign, even if an esoteric one.
He gently rolled himself on top of her, kissing her lightly before searching her face for a sign to go forth and make love. The corners of her mouth threatened to turn into a half-smirk and her raised eyebrow might as well have shouted as much, daring him. To do what, he didn’t know (and suspected she didn’t either) but he wasn’t going to turn her down.
A hand snaking behind her supporting her lower back, one reaching up cupping his cheek, another guiding, the other holding the ground, and she nodded. He slid into her easily and they both gasped and closed their eyes, staying still for a moment, relishing in the feeling, rain sporadically blowing onto them.
Addison made a mental note to have sex in the rain more often, the inside heat and outside coolth felt far too good to be natural; Mark made a mental note to have sex with Addison more often, the way she softly tightened around him and seemed to fit perfectly felt far too good to be natural.
She opened her eyes to find him already staring at her in sexified amusement. Raising her hips to push him further into her gave him all the encouragement he needed.
Mark usually made a point to not get in bed (or on the roof) with women who had a dominant streak stronger than his, masculinity always got the better of him, but when he suddenly found himself flipped onto his back, surprised, with Addison grinning smugly satisfied on top of him, nails grazing swirls on his chest and not missing a beat, he decided to let that point go. At least with her.
She was too caught up in the way he was looking at her to notice him slide a hand between them but definitely noticed what he did with it and threw her head back with a moan.
The god of love apparently did not need to be on top to do what he did best.
Mark did make her scream, and days later she’d laugh and know she had been right, but at the moment he did she wasn’t thinking anything but Oh My God. Some part of her felt his release and heard his thoughts, and some part of him felt and heard her, but in that moment the two of them were solely within themselves for the first time since their game began.
He could’ve sworn he saw her glowing just before he had to close his eyes.
Earth came back slowly and she gracefully fell onto his chest, carefully rolling off of him, marveling at how quickly his arms came up to hold her to him and the strength of his chest against her cheek. Silence except for the wind and rain, thunder noticeably absent and only a few sparks of light behind distant clouds gave any illumination. The rain gradually cooled them off and their breathing slowed to match each other, easily quiet. They both thought how comfortable they were, no one’s arm falling asleep, no hair in someone’s mouth, no breathing too much on a shoulder, just that the rain was becoming a bit too cold even if it was letting up and the roof was becoming a bit hard under the blanket.
Addison shifted her head to look at him, blinking lazily. “The rain stopped.”
He nodded as best he could. “Yeah.” He gently stroked her hair when she turned to lie flat again. “We should probably…”
She nodded. “Yeah.” This meant she had to get up, had to move, had to leave his touch. She counted to three. And then to five. And then to ten. Around twenty-three she started disentangling herself from Mark and stood up, offering him her hand as help. He took it, though didn’t need it, and glanced around.
“Unless we really want an indecent exposure charge…” he whispered in her ear, sliding his arms around her waist and making her shiver. He wasn’t helping the case for leaving.
Giving him a lopsided grin she gently pulled herself away from him and pulled out some spare clothing from the same closet as the blanket. “Don’t worry,” she said in response to his weird look. “The girl who gave me the keys put it all there, it was washed yesterday.” She smiled. “And no,” she pulled on a pair of jeans, shoving the thong in her back pocket and hooking the key ring to a belt loop, “this wasn’t planned as much as you’re thinking. I’m just the girl who got lucky enough to get the keys for the night.”
Mark raised an eyebrow at Addison’s going commando but then realized that he was going to have to do the same and shrugged, taking the pants she had offered. She blushed in the dark, tugging a shirt over her head, flipping her hair out from where it got caught.
“By the way, my place is closer,” she sidled up next to him, taking the edges of his shirt in her hands and pulling it down over his chest for him, letting her fingers linger a little longer than necessary. He faked a glare at her, trying to pretend that he would've preferred to know this earlier, to have used a bed and stayed dry; he failed miserably and broke out into a grin.
Addison laughed with him, stepping back from him and picking up her dress, not quite knowing what to do with it but it seemed like she should keep it. She handed him his sheet and found the crown of laurel and stuck it on her head.
He cupped her cheeks with his hands and kissed her softly. “What happened to the sultry Erato?” He teased.
She grinned. “It’s past midnight and no longer Halloween. I get to be a cute nerd again.” She offered him her hand again, heading toward the door to head back down out of the building.
Turning when he took it but didn’t follow, she let out a small gasp as she found herself pulled into his arms again. Mark smiled. “Do I get to see the cute nerd side of you?”
“Only if you follow me,” she dropped her voice, a quick raise of her eyebrow and he was right behind her.
Rating: PG-13/NC-17.
Pairing: Mark/Addison. Derek is in there for five minutes so I could write a dodgeball conversation.
Summary: A Halloween party that required costumes, nudity, or thirty bucks.
Note: There's a bit where Addison waxes poetic in the second half. Edmund Spencer wrote that, not me.
Titles = Kill Hannah
The first time he saw her, he thought she looked like a goddess.
Literally.
Smiling and laughing near the back corner, her long red hair pulled up in intricate curls and spirals, tiara sparkling as she moved, white dress shimmering with glitter designs flowing out around her from the wind blowing through the window, faint lightning threatening a storm.
October 31st. Halloween. All Hallow’s Eve. Whatever you wanted to call it, the date had ceased meaning getting dressed up in something scary and betraying dentists everywhere into getting dressed up in something sexual and betraying liver specialists everywhere.
Somehow he had found himself invited to the University of Chicago’s cross country team’s annual Halloween party. Costumes required (or pay a hefty cover charge) and a stern direction to bring something consumable. Anything. Which led to a collection of king-sized candy bars, packs of gum, questionable fruit and brownies that likely weren’t legal, among the traditional chips, salsa, cookies and pizza sitting on the table.
It was a jock party, mostly, and a large number of the teams had chosen to dress similarly. The men’s hockey team went as superheroes, women’s lacrosse as inmates, the cross country and track teams had paired up to go as famous couples (the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers was particularly amazing). Wrestling seemed to have the I Don’t Care But Show Off Your Muscles rule.
Normally he would avoid these things, large parties (especially ones that required any sort of thought and creativity) weren’t his thing, but too many people had said they would see him there for him to pass. He was glad he had: a chance to see people outside of locker rooms and uniforms, many women not wearing much and a free supply of alcohol with the gift of a bag of chips.
The swim and dive teams went as mythological beings. Their captains were both fluent in Latin and Ancient Greek.
She was talking with another goddess (though perhaps Norse), a mermaid (Siren, he was later corrected), and a Juliet. He overheard bits of their conversation, sixteen-hundred meter, medley relay, triple back twist, four-five and absently swirled his glass (something that, at one point, may have been intended to be red wine) until someone smacked him on the back.
“Friends, Romans, countrymen.” A voice grinned from behind him. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Sloane. Though the toga suits you well.”
Mark smiled and shook his head, raising his glass to clink (as much as plastic can clink) with his friend’s. “Shepherd. I didn’t peg you for the Shakespeare type.” He looked closer in the dark. “Though well done, James Dean.” Draining his cup, he made a disgusted face but refilled it anyway. Caesar may as well be drinking wine, right?
“I wasn’t aware they let the kids picked last in kickball into these things.” He looked over the other man’s shoulder, keeping an eye on the redhead who now seemed to be happily tipsy.
Derek shrugged absently. He didn’t play any sport and never had (unless a two-year forced stint in soccer counted), but half of the men’s basketball team were seniors in advanced organic chemistry lab he TA’ed and he was deemed cool enough to be invited. He suspected it was because he wasn’t much more than a year older than them (and therefore hadn’t yet lost the fun genes), but mostly because he let them detour briefly into the area of distilling their own alcohol a few weeks back.
“Just because I was picked last doesn’t mean I was bad. Who’s the girl?” He tilted his head in the direction of the goddess Mark had been overtly staring at and who didn’t seem to notice he was there.
“But you were liquefied in playground dodge ball.” Mark shrugged. “I don’t know.” She seemed familiar, though it could’ve been the lighting and the wine. “I think she’s a distance swimmer, she’s too tall to be a diver.”
Taking Mark’s empty cup, Derek poured the rest of a bottle of wine into their glasses and handed it back. “My one weakness. Go talk to her.” He glanced at his friend, who had turned to lean his back against the wall.
“Go talk to whom?” She was suddenly there, stealing Mark’s cup from his hand and lifting an eyebrow when she sipped it. “You don’t want this stuff.” Looking quickly around her, satisfied that no one was watching, she knelt down and felt underneath the table, grinning and proudly displaying a decent bottle of red wine after a few seconds of searching. She grinned innocently and tossed her shoulders, making quick work of the cork.
“Don’t tell anyone I did that,” her voice dropped a level and an octave as she poured the two men fresh glasses, “it’s supposed to be for VIPs only, and I don’t know if you are. But,” she sipped from her own glass, “I figure that Caesar here has been staring at me for about an hour and the least I can do is get him something decent to drink.”
Who the hell are you? Mark wondered. Derek caught some cue and hurried off to the other side of the room, muttering an excuse about wanting an apple. The woman smirked at him, clearly knowing what was on his mind.
“So, wrestling?” She leaned her shoulder against the wall, a clap of thunder and sudden downpour of rain causing her to glance out the window. The blowing wind and light patterns caused by the trees almost out of leaves seemed to suit the theme.
“The half-naked thing gave it away, didn’t it?” He smiled at her giggle and nod. This is awkward, he thought; he vaguely remembered possibly meeting her, and had no idea whether she remembered or if it had even happened.
She slid back in an attempt to not be in the direct line of the rain now blowing through the open window; white dresses and water were always a bad idea but it was too hot in the house to shut it.
Laughing, she nodded. “Just a little.” She looked up at him, not something she had to do often. “Addison,” she offered her hand.
No, definitely never met her before, he thought, shaking her hand in return. “Mark. Nice to meet you.” He smiled at her, the smile that almost always got someone in trouble. It didn’t seem to have any effect on her, though she didn’t exactly seem disinterested either. “Oh, God,” he groaned, looking over her shoulder. “Welcome, rugby team.”
A cadre of pirates poured in, complete with swords and eye patches and individual jugs of rum, bringing half of the storm with them. A very loud, very enthusiastic and very drunken chorus of “Yo Ho A Pirates Life For Me” had Addison turning and doubling over in laughter, and Mark seeing an opportunity in the middle of rolling his eyes.
He slipped his arm around her when she stood up straight and twirled her around. He gave her a quick moment to realize what was going on (he thought it generally unfair to catch people entirely off-guard) and kissed her. No tongue, just lips, but enough to taste the wine, her lip gloss and something else he decided was the cliché “her.”
Addison carefully pushed away from him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She wasn’t angry or offended, just surprised, and she hated surprises even when they were kisses from an attractive man in a room with flickering lights. They were in a corner, it was likely no one had seen and, the way the power was going, it was likely that no one would see anything in a few minutes. It wasn’t that she didn’t want anyone to see her kissing someone, it was that she had a reputation (an unfair and incorrect one) for being the prude of the swimming team and didn’t want to ruin it (since it had proved useful against many a questionable guy) by being seen kiss him back.
The power cut just after she saw him shrug and smirk as an answer. Lightning sporadically lit up the room and everyone cheered or screamed or otherwise did something loud. Alcohol and thunderstorms and Halloween do strange things to people.
She stepped toward him, ignoring the rain on her dress, and leaned in close, lips barely touching his. “That isn’t an answer,” she whispered and darted her tongue out to lick a remaining drop of wine off his bottom lip. He moved to close the space between them and she took a step back, keeping the distance but softly shaking her head. “Neither is that.” She brushed her lips gently over his, pulling away when she felt him try to take it farther.
Emptying her cup in one last swallow, she tossed in the nearest trashcan behind her and raised an eyebrow at him. A silent dare. Hard To Get was her specialty, and probably what earned her that reputation she almost hated, and she especially loved it when she knew she had someone who wasn’t going to give up. Like Mark, who was looking at her with darkened eyes and a grin that said he was going to play along.
“A kiss is just a kiss, you know.” He pulled her back against him, the skirt of her dress catching in the wind seemed suited to the moment, until they vaguely registered that two people were sword fighting on the table and he walked them out of disaster’s way and next to another window. The wind didn’t change. A flash of light reflected against the glitter that had been perfectly dusted across her bare shoulders and cheeks, in her hair.
“And I suppose Caesar kissing Calliope in a dark corner isn’t revising centuries of thought.” She slid forward; anyone looking would think they were touching, but she kept her cheek just barely away from his, whispering in his ear. “I’ll let the Casablanca reference go if you tell me who she is.”
Mark smiled in the dark. “Mmm, hello muse, I thought you looked familiar.” He felt her grin against her will, happy that he knew it. “Personally I never appreciated epic poetry.” He turned his head and touched her cheek with his lips. “So perhaps you’d be better off as Erato.” Dropping his hand to her waist, he grazed his fingers against hers before he pulled it back. “At least for tonight.”
She laughed lowly, sensually, and he shivered when he felt her tongue softly on his neck, and again when she replaced it with her lips. “And I suppose you could forget Caesar and be Eros.” She paused. “At least for tonight,” she mimicked his phrasing. Addison ran a fingernail across the bare skin exposed just above his hip. “Then it would just be perfect.” She leaned her cheek against his. “Wouldn’t it?” The distance between them disappeared as he inhaled in deeply when she breathed the question into his ear. She left it that way.
The insanity they had tried so hard to ignore became too much and the moment broken when Superman nearly fell into Addison, who leaned against Mark. Mark caught himself on the wall, and put an arm around her as support. They grinned at each other and laughed. He threaded his fingers through his and gestured to the door with his head, hoping it wasn’t too forward.
“It’s pouring,” she whispered. She slid forward, slipping her free arm around his back. “And I’m wearing white.”
“So am I.” He dipped his head down, nearly kissing her again. “But the power’s out, no one will see anything if they aren’t looking.” A barely perceptible brush of his lips against hers. “Besides, the muse of erotic poetry couldn’t possibly have worn much.” He toyed with the back of her dress. “You’re out of character.”
She returned the favor and smiled at him, devious and suddenly not caring. “Then so are you.” She followed the tug of his hand out the door.
He caught her and pulled her back into his arms as soon as they were on the sidewalk outside the house. Cupping her cheeks, he tilted her head up to face his and kissed her properly, though held back his tongue and grinned when she tried to glare at him. The rain immediately soaked their clothing and he smiled in appreciation at what he saw through hers.
Addison tipped her head and gave him an approving eyebrow raise, even without lights she could see everything she wanted.
“So,” he rapidly stepped back toward her, closing any gaps and sticking their clothing together. “Who lives closer?” he breathed into her ear, dropping his voice, and admired nature’s timing with a clap of thunder.
She took a step back and laced her fingers through his. “Inside is out of character, dear Eros,” she pulled him a step toward her, sliding an arm around his shoulders to brush the back of his neck. “And not nearly as fun.” She felt his facial muscles tighten in confusion. “Plus, you said that nobody will see if nobody is looking.” She gestured around them, the empty streets, the living rooms lit up by candlelight for reading, two people walking outside were not cause for interest if they could be seen at all. “And I doubt anyone worth knowing will be looking.” She caught his chin and turned it to face hers, kissing his mouth gently, but full on, with a hint of tongue.
He still hesitated, he would be with this all the way if they’d end up in her apartment, his room in the frat house down the street, the abandoned building two blocks over, but outside? Like this? New. “I assume you have some sort of set up, a predetermined place full of palm fronds and pomegranates and cherubs singing when appropriate.” He returned her kiss and gave her mouth two hints of his tongue.
Addison laughed, the first real laugh he’d heard from her for the evening. “No.” She turned so her back was pressed against his stomach and felt his arms immediately slide around her. “But…” she angled her head to whisper into his ear. “The astronomy tower is two blocks away and can open up to show all of this.” She lifted her neck higher, intentionally inviting his tongue. “Urania gave me the keys.” He whispered a thought against her neck and dipped her backwards. “Attached to my underwear,” she breathed into his mouth when he pulled her back up.
Mark knew he was in trouble. And in trouble in a very big way, he thought, Addison’s fingers trailing down his side, just barely sliding underneath the sheet sticking to his body. He had no idea where the astronomy tower was, choosing to follow her gentle pull on his hand.
“This could be considered public indecency, you know,” he drew a slow line down her bare back, satisfied with her shiver that couldn’t have been entirely due to the rain. “I can see right through your dress.” Enough to know that she hadn’t been lying about the keys; a small clip attached the three keys to the side strap of her thong. He quickened his pace to match hers when they turned a corner, recognizing the tall building ahead backlit by lightning.
She stopped at the door, her hand reaching behind her to thread through the back of her dress for the keys. He caught her hand in his, smiling at her, tracing the curve of her hip with the other, dipping gently and excruciatingly slowly into the folds of the fabric to unclip the ring. Addison had closed her eyes (thanking whoever had suggested the loose backless halter dress) in a failed attempt to control her breathing, opening them when she felt him pull his hands away and close her hand around the keys.
“And that wasn’t publicly indecent?” She looked up at him with barely open eyes, lips nearly touching his. Content that he was distracted enough, she slid a key into the lock and turned it, resting a hand on the door handle, the other carefully touching his chest.
He leaned in to kiss her, forcing her hand to fully press against him; she slowly grabbed the front of his toga, long fingernails just touching skin as she curled her fingers around the sheet. Returning the kiss, she pushed on handle and bumped it open with her hip, pulling him in behind her out of the rain.
Mark let go and opened his eyes to see Addison smirking, pleased with herself at his shock. She kicked the door shut and locked it behind them.
“That wasn’t fair.”
“Really.” She took a step forward.
“Now I can’t see you.” He took a step forward.
“You can always touch.” The darkness provided a cover for the redness that shot to her cheeks, throwing years of private Catholic school out the window in one sentence.
She didn’t have to reach far to take his hand in hers. Taking the lead again, she started them up the stairs, holding her dress up with her other hand so she wouldn’t trip. Though several flashes of lightning lit up the staircase enough for her to see where they were headed, she carefully counted steps despite how much Mark tried to distract her with his fingers and her lower back.
A second door and the second key pushed easily into the lock and turned with a click. He reached around her, arm barely brushing hers, and twisted the handle to open the door in front of her. The hinges groaned and she swallowed, suddenly feeling as if they were doing something terribly wrong and devious but slipped in through the doorway anyway.
Terribly wrong and devious felt very, very right.
Mark followed her and slid the key ring back into her hand after he had flipped the deadbolt.
Thunder echoed through the walls of the old building and the rain picked up, pounding on the roof and outside landings. Addison had a brief flashback to sixth grade science and Benjamin Franklin with his key in a lightning storm, but then Mark’s fingers were lightly touching her face, tucking stray curls behind her ears, brushing a few drying strands out of her eyes. Her eyes fluttered shut as he cupped her cheek, his hands soft against her damp skin.
She moved closer to him so their bodies were fully touching and it was only then, when she felt just how hard he was, that she realized how wet she was and it wasn’t a function of the rain. One more door, she thought, one more and then we’re back outside under the roof.
“Hm…I don’t suppose Eros ever was subtle,” she smirked, hand brushing his thigh. She deftly twisted her shoulders and slipped her body past him to unlock the last door. She glanced back at him, silhouetted by violent lightning, beckoning him with a seductive tilt of her head.
He let the door slam behind him, the sound lost in the weather, and joined her under the overhang, protected from, yet not out of, the rain. The wind picked up, gently blowing droplets toward them, and Mark quieted thoughts of waterfalls when he looked up to see sheets of rain pouring off the roof.
“We really must have pissed off Zeus,” he whispered, stepping behind her. He caught her hand and snuck the keys out of her grasp, dancing his fingers along the edges of her dress. Careful to not move the fabric too out of line, he reached through the back, pushing her limits of remaining still, and returned the key ring where it belonged.
Years of relays and laps and training had toned her body within easy reach of perfection; he kept his hand under the fabric and traced her hipbone with his fingers. Exposed and obvious, but healthy, surrounded by muscles and tendons he felt tighten at his touch and again, with her sudden breath, when he covered the other. His thumbs trailed to the edges of her thong, teasing just below, though his hands remained on solidly on her hips.
She tried to face him, and he stilled her with a gently tight grip on her waist. “Stay still,” he smiled.
“Why?” Addison turned her head, unintentionally allowing him to touch her neck.
Mark brushed his lips against her skin, speaking in kisses.
“Because you’re gorgeous,” his hands wandered up her flat stomach, hidden muscles fluttering under his touch.
“And a muse,” he kissed behind her ear.
“And it’s my job,” his mouth traveling, carefully blowing on the wet skin on the back of her neck.
“As Eros,” he tugged her other earlobe gently with his teeth.
“To make you feel,” fingers grazing too-slowly upward.
“Just for tonight,” hands resting just underneath her breasts.
“As loved,” he whispered, angling his head to face hers, “as possible.”
She turned in his arms as his lips caught hers and refused to let him stop. Maybe they had met before in some other life, a first draft of Greek canonical mythology later split into different chapters, different volumes, because he knew her; he knew that she liked gentle permission rather than forceful, even if it was obvious she wanted it; he knew just when to bite her lower lip and how hard. And she knew him; that he liked to lead; that he liked surprises.
His hands slipped out of her dress to find their way to her hair, a lost cause the moment they walked outside, and buried his fingers through loose wet strands. Who are you, she thought as her knees gave out just a little and he quickly caught her, letting go of the kiss. He smiled when he noticed she had already caught herself with her arms around his shoulders. Standing her back up steady on her feet, he looked down at her for some sort of sign.
Dark eyes met dark eyes.
She darted her tongue out and licked her lips, regaining her stability and confidence. This was far out of her element, but the intrigue of the safe danger of it - and her success - reassured her. She back away from him, far enough that she could breathe but close enough that he could hear.
“For I that rule in measure moderate,” she took a step, catching his left hand and brushing it gently.
“The tempest of that stormy passion,” a silent thank you to the thunder and lightning timing as she leaned over and kissed his shoulder, letting his hand drop back down.
“And use to paint in rhymes the troublous state,” she took two more steps, now fully behind him, drawing a line down his back with her fingernail.
“Of lovers life in likest fashion,” from behind, she eased her palm flat against his stomach and slid it slowly underneath the fabric of his toga.
“Am put from practise of my kindly skill,” her hand traveled lower, fingers curling to tickle his skin.
“Banished by those that love with lewdness fill,” she stilled her hand and bit down gently on his neck, following it with a kiss after his sharp intake of breath.
Mark slowly turned after a moment, her hand slipping around to his back as he moved. “You win, Muse.”
She tipped her head in acknowledgement and closed her eyes as he easily teased her lips open with his tongue and backed her away from the rain. He still tasted like wine and she was sure she did, too. Somewhere on the way he had lifted the halter of her dress over her head. She stopped before he went any further and placed a finger to his lips when he opened his mouth to speak. Addison deftly popped open a small hidden supply closet and pulled out a blanket, laying it on a generally dry section of the roof with one expert throw. He wasn’t sure whether to be shocked, surprised or impressed.
Laughing, she tugged him toward her, about to make a remark about astronomers on cloudy nights, but her laugh quickly turned into a soft gasp as he began peeling her dress off of her. So slowly that he was in danger of having her help him, but then he had finally pulled it down (how she hadn’t noticed his work on the thong too would be a mystery for her for years) and it was off and away.
Kneeling in front of her from where he had dropped the dress, Mark’s followed the curves of her body with his hands as he slowly stood back up, muscle tone and definition, admiring the work in her calves, thighs, abs and shoulders. He traced down her arms; biceps, triceps and forearms, the strength hidden there he knew could rival his own if she so wanted. Finally up to his full height, he looked her in the eyes.
Normally Addison felt vulnerable at this point, completely naked in front of a relative stranger even if they had just spent the last hour or so having flirtatious word sex together. Normally Mark felt confident and cocky, would simply go for it without any formalities. But she felt sexual and he felt rather put in his place by her, so it should have been no surprise that his toga was pushed easily to the ground and his boxers caught a gust of wind off the roof, but it was.
Their skin was sticky from a sensual combination of rain and sweat, shining in the occasional burst of light. Mark kissed her and gently eased Addison down onto the blanket, holding himself up slightly above her. She opened her eyes and smiled; all hints of the devious and teasing muse of before were gone: it was just her and Mark smiled back; equally genuine though he was always devious when it came to women, feigning god complex or not. He placed one last kiss on her lips and gently closed her eyelids with his fingers.
“Just feel,” he breathed in her ear and brushed a trail of kisses down her cheek to her collarbone. One hand slithered over her stomach, circling around her belly button, up to the swell of her breasts, but not quite there. He smiled to himself as she arched her back in response to his attention to her neck (she would need to cover that up tomorrow), and edged his palm up ever so slightly so that when she laid back down his fingers would be touching just where she wanted. She gasped.
As he left her neck and circled around her nipple with his tongue, her hands came up to play in his hair; tossing aside the laurel wreath, she toyed with the dirty blonde hair in desperate need of a haircut but that thought disappeared the second she felt his fingers between her thighs. She let go, spreading her legs and following his advice (command?). He smiled into her chest, switching sides as he teased her with one finger, painfully slowly and not far enough. He added a second playful finger, feeling her getting frustrated. Without warning he slid both into her and sucked her nipple into his mouth at the same time.
Addison moaned. She wasn’t usually vocal during sex, a few gasps here and quiet moans there, but she was never loud. A feeling inside of her told her that Mark had a goal to make her scream. Though she later thought the immediate feeling may have had something to do with him speeding up and, when she was ready, adding a third.
Kissing and licking his way down the rest of her body, he worked to keep up his rhythm and keep her steady, settling a hand on one hip to hold her still. He curled up his fingers as they left her and occasionally twisted them as he pushed in; something she had never felt before and never wanted to forget. It took only one brush of his tongue to send her over the edge and neighbors would have complained had there been any and had they been able to hear.
He kept her there until just before he knew she couldn’t take any more. Her hips stilled and he slowly pulled out his fingers, licking them clean, and slid up to meet her eager lips for a kiss. He laid down next to her, drawing on her stomach with one finger, giving her time to recover and breathe, shaking his head every time she reached for him or made like she was going to take over.
“I told you, beautiful,” he smiled at her pout and kissed her cheek, “it’s my job to take care of you tonight.” He dropped his voice, bringing them back to their earlier banter.
She couldn’t really find a way to argue with that without sending her sex drive back into reverse so she didn’t. “Well then, far be it for me to get in your way,” she spread her legs barely perceptibly, but her calf rubbed up against his and he knew what she was hinting toward.
The weather had picked up again after a brief respite while they were lying together. Mark mentally retracted his earlier statement; Zeus couldn’t be that angry if he was timing everything right. He took it as a sign, even if an esoteric one.
He gently rolled himself on top of her, kissing her lightly before searching her face for a sign to go forth and make love. The corners of her mouth threatened to turn into a half-smirk and her raised eyebrow might as well have shouted as much, daring him. To do what, he didn’t know (and suspected she didn’t either) but he wasn’t going to turn her down.
A hand snaking behind her supporting her lower back, one reaching up cupping his cheek, another guiding, the other holding the ground, and she nodded. He slid into her easily and they both gasped and closed their eyes, staying still for a moment, relishing in the feeling, rain sporadically blowing onto them.
Addison made a mental note to have sex in the rain more often, the inside heat and outside coolth felt far too good to be natural; Mark made a mental note to have sex with Addison more often, the way she softly tightened around him and seemed to fit perfectly felt far too good to be natural.
She opened her eyes to find him already staring at her in sexified amusement. Raising her hips to push him further into her gave him all the encouragement he needed.
Mark usually made a point to not get in bed (or on the roof) with women who had a dominant streak stronger than his, masculinity always got the better of him, but when he suddenly found himself flipped onto his back, surprised, with Addison grinning smugly satisfied on top of him, nails grazing swirls on his chest and not missing a beat, he decided to let that point go. At least with her.
She was too caught up in the way he was looking at her to notice him slide a hand between them but definitely noticed what he did with it and threw her head back with a moan.
The god of love apparently did not need to be on top to do what he did best.
Mark did make her scream, and days later she’d laugh and know she had been right, but at the moment he did she wasn’t thinking anything but Oh My God. Some part of her felt his release and heard his thoughts, and some part of him felt and heard her, but in that moment the two of them were solely within themselves for the first time since their game began.
He could’ve sworn he saw her glowing just before he had to close his eyes.
Earth came back slowly and she gracefully fell onto his chest, carefully rolling off of him, marveling at how quickly his arms came up to hold her to him and the strength of his chest against her cheek. Silence except for the wind and rain, thunder noticeably absent and only a few sparks of light behind distant clouds gave any illumination. The rain gradually cooled them off and their breathing slowed to match each other, easily quiet. They both thought how comfortable they were, no one’s arm falling asleep, no hair in someone’s mouth, no breathing too much on a shoulder, just that the rain was becoming a bit too cold even if it was letting up and the roof was becoming a bit hard under the blanket.
Addison shifted her head to look at him, blinking lazily. “The rain stopped.”
He nodded as best he could. “Yeah.” He gently stroked her hair when she turned to lie flat again. “We should probably…”
She nodded. “Yeah.” This meant she had to get up, had to move, had to leave his touch. She counted to three. And then to five. And then to ten. Around twenty-three she started disentangling herself from Mark and stood up, offering him her hand as help. He took it, though didn’t need it, and glanced around.
“Unless we really want an indecent exposure charge…” he whispered in her ear, sliding his arms around her waist and making her shiver. He wasn’t helping the case for leaving.
Giving him a lopsided grin she gently pulled herself away from him and pulled out some spare clothing from the same closet as the blanket. “Don’t worry,” she said in response to his weird look. “The girl who gave me the keys put it all there, it was washed yesterday.” She smiled. “And no,” she pulled on a pair of jeans, shoving the thong in her back pocket and hooking the key ring to a belt loop, “this wasn’t planned as much as you’re thinking. I’m just the girl who got lucky enough to get the keys for the night.”
Mark raised an eyebrow at Addison’s going commando but then realized that he was going to have to do the same and shrugged, taking the pants she had offered. She blushed in the dark, tugging a shirt over her head, flipping her hair out from where it got caught.
“By the way, my place is closer,” she sidled up next to him, taking the edges of his shirt in her hands and pulling it down over his chest for him, letting her fingers linger a little longer than necessary. He faked a glare at her, trying to pretend that he would've preferred to know this earlier, to have used a bed and stayed dry; he failed miserably and broke out into a grin.
Addison laughed with him, stepping back from him and picking up her dress, not quite knowing what to do with it but it seemed like she should keep it. She handed him his sheet and found the crown of laurel and stuck it on her head.
He cupped her cheeks with his hands and kissed her softly. “What happened to the sultry Erato?” He teased.
She grinned. “It’s past midnight and no longer Halloween. I get to be a cute nerd again.” She offered him her hand again, heading toward the door to head back down out of the building.
Turning when he took it but didn’t follow, she let out a small gasp as she found herself pulled into his arms again. Mark smiled. “Do I get to see the cute nerd side of you?”
“Only if you follow me,” she dropped her voice, a quick raise of her eyebrow and he was right behind her.