Precipice of Choice - Part 1
Dreams - Chapter 6
Leo/Margaret
Disclaimer: They are not mine…
MATURE
He sat at his desk in the dark, turned to the window watching the dark. He chuckled. He just had to. It was so incongruous he just had to chuckle. If he didn’t he would cry, and he was not gonna cry. Leo McGarry did not cry. There. ‘What a fuckin lie,’ he thought as a single tear slid down his cheek. Okay, maybe he did, just not where anyone could see him.
He pushed back the chair and walked over to the couch. He laid back on it, his head on the arm, legs crossed and hands behind his head. He’d stay here tonight, again. There was a fresh suit and underwear in his closet. He could shower and shave and present Leo McGarry to the world in the morning, dressed for battle, no one the wiser that he had never left, didn’t have the courage to leave, to go back to the hotel alone, that he didn’t have the courage to face another night alone away from his office. While he was here he could claim there was work to be done. He just wondered how long he could keep lying to himself.
Margaret picked herself up off the floor, turned out the lights in the living room and went into her bedroom. She slowly undressed, hung up her suit to take to the dry cleaners, tossed the blouse in the hamper and sat to remove her stockings. The dried tears made her face feel tight and sticky. In the bathroom she washed her face, brushed her teeth and crawled into bed naked. All she wanted was a few hours of sleep, blessed relief from wakeful reality.
Of course sleep eluded her. Of course she would lay here awake until morning. Of course she could not get him out of her head. Of course. She loved him. She had loved him for years, but now she was in love with him. She loved his smile, his laugh, God his laugh, his determination, his sense of duty, of country, of pride. She found him to be sexy and charming when he wanted to be and utterly exasperating and full of fury when he wanted to be. He drove her nuts in twenty different ways and she loved them all.
She wanted him. All of him. His smile, his laugh, his eloquent eyes, his strength. She wanted his body wrapped around hers, his mouth on hers, his hands touching her most intimate places. She wanted to touch him, feel his desire in her mouth, bring him to completion and hear his sighs, his moans. She wanted him to gasp her name. She wanted to chant his name as he thrust into her and scream it when she came. She moaned aloud at the images in her head. Her dreams were always of her and Leo. God, what would his mouth feel like? Hot and urgent or warm and slowly searching?
She wrapped her body around her pillow, imagined it was him. ‘Please let me sleep tonight.’
Leo moaned in his sleep and rolled onto his back on the couch in his office. He was deep asleep, caught up in a dream. His head rolled back and forth and his hands twitched as the dream wove its way through his unconscious mind. The dream took hold, took root in his soul. He cried out her name as he reached for her. She slipped away, vanishing, only to reappear again, taunting him.
‘Margaret. Please. Don’t go. Please stay with me. Be with me.’ But she faded away again and again, pulling him deeper and deeper into the dream. He was afraid. He felt the fear, as strong as any fear that had ever consumed him. He felt it in his chest, in the pit of his stomach, in his loins as it became desire. All consuming desire.
She appeared again, all red hair and long legs, full breasts and husky voice. Her blue eyes and full lips. When he did first realize she was beautiful? When did he first long to kiss her and touch her and hold her body against his? When did Margaret become the name he cried out in the night when the dreams became so intense, so erotic, that he would shout himself awake; the orgasms so intense that his vision was blurred and white lights danced behind his eyes?
Then, in the dream, she was standing before him. Her red hair was soft and loose and brushed her shoulders. Her blue eyes were shining as she held out her hand to him. He reached out, slowly, tentatively. In the dreams, she would often fade away just as he touched her, but this time, she took his hand and pulled him close. Her free hand caressed his cheek and she leaned forward to softly kiss his lips…
She leaned forward to softly kiss his lips. Barely, like the gentle touch of a butterfly’s wing, like a soft breath of air, she barely touched her lips to his. The touch was like fire. It crackled like a spark jumping from his lips to hers. She started to back away, to fade away again…he reached out and pulled her back to him, hand at the back of her neck, drawing her lips to his. No mere touch this time as his mouth consumed hers, open, tongues probing and searching, breaths held, moans vanquished in their mouths.
She tossed and turned in her bed. Her legs restless, arms reaching, Leo’s name on her lips as he kissed her in her dream. Her heart raced as he touched her, held her, gripped her hips and pulled her into his straining erection. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his lips trailed hot, wet kisses from her ear to her collar bone and back again. He took her mouth again and she sighed. His hands travelled from her shoulder to her hips, then reached and cupped her ass. She groaned aloud when he pulled her against him and ground his hips into hers.
She kicked off the bed covers in her sleep, thrashing and twisting on the bed. In the dream Leo was slipping her blouse from her shoulders as his lips claimed her nipple through the lace bra…
Leo groaned in his sleep and fell deeper into his dream. There, he slowly undid the buttons of her blouse, one at a time, then slipped it off her shoulders slowly, lightly caressing her arms as his hands pushed the material down. He bent forward and sucked her nipple through the lace bra that held her breasts. She moaned and pushed her hips into his.
This was the stuff of dreams, of desire. In his dreams he could love her, he could have her. In his dreams he could undo the bra that confined her breasts and free them so he could take her bared nipple in his mouth. He could hear her moan his name as he nipped and sucked at her nipples while his hands held her hips to his. He could grind his straining erection against her mound, slip the panties from her body and bury himself in her heat…
‘God…Margaret…’ he sat up on the couch as a wave of sensation took him and tipped him over the edge of his desire. He stared into the distance, eyes unfocused, his breath ragged. He fell back to the cushions and groaned as his whole body shuddered. ‘Shit. Dammit.’ He tried to slow his breathing as he watched his hands tremble as he brought them up to drag across his face. ‘God. Again. And here…’ Anyone could have walked in and known what was happening to him.
He rose and stumbled to his desk. He grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on the corner of his desk. He unzipped his trousers and reached in and cleaned himself as best he could, then he balled up the tissues in his pocket. Best not to leave them here, even in the trash.
He turned off the desk lamp, grabbed his coat and left, leaving his briefcase behind. He knew he would get home and just collapse. When he signed out he told the guard to have his office locked and he walked into the night.
Margaret’s back arched off the bed as she experienced the intensity of the dream induced orgasm. She fell back onto the warm, tangled sheets, moaning his name. Tears ran down into her ears as ragged sighs shook her frame. She wanted the dreams to stop, she wanted them to be real. The intensity of the dreams, the sheer magnitude of sensation, left her weak and shaking.
She stumbled to her bathroom and dried her face and used a warm rag to wipe away the residue of her desire. She changed her clothes and fell back into the bed. ‘This has to stop. I can’t keep having dreams like this.’
The dreams were clouding her judgement, invading her reality. They were affecting her job and her sanity. If she couldn’t get past this she would have to leave. She didn’t know if she could, but she knew she couldn’t keep going like this. She was a wreck. Her nerves were shot. She knew it would never happen. Leo would never love her, never become her lover.
She wasn’t sure she could walk away from him. He was her life. But she just couldn’t keep going like this. The hardest thing she could do would be to leave and also the easiest, if it meant keeping this from him, it would be easy to leave. But could she leave, knowing that it would probably hurt him? Would it devastate him, or just inconvenience him, or maybe even piss him off?
One thing was sure. He was the love of her life and it would devastate her, kill her, wound her…but if it was for him…she would do it. She would move on…