[Oneshot] No walk in the park
TITLE: No walk in the park
AUTHOR: nicis_anatomy
CHARACTER: Jenny Shepard/Trent Kort
GENRE: Het, Romance
RATING: R
WORD COUNT: 1776
SUMMARY: When we had started dating last year, it had soon become clear that I would have to say goodbye to this planned-out life I had been living for years ... Written for prompt "strawberries and champagne" for older_not_dead. Originally also written for day #06 "sweater" for ncisdaily - but won't be used for this challenge.
NOTE: English still isn't my native language (although I wish) and the story is not beta'd. This is my first attempt to write smut and I'm not sure if it is any good … If it wasn't for marciafan and her head-slaps I may have deleted it again. And thank you also to nakeisha for her help ;)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters (although I'd love to own Action Figure Gibbs), nor am I making any money from them. If I would Season 5 would have ended different.
~*~*~*~*
When I was walking down the stairs, he was already there, expecting me. I knew he was waiting for me for a while now (I had heard the doorbell and Noemi asking him in only seconds later), but by that time I still needed few more minutes and was still standing in front of my closet, indifferent about what to wear.
He had been clear on the phone: something comfortable and no heels. The last part had been the most disturbing and most difficult one. I loved my heels and although most people couldn’t believe it, I felt comfortable wearing them and I could walk in them for hours without feeling the slightest pain. The heels were an inherent part of my daily wardrobe and it was hard to leave them in the closet. It had almost felt like I was betraying them with the white sneaker I chose instead. These sneakers were part of my wardrobe only because they went well with the floral sundress I had bought in Paris last spring. After some thinking I had chosen this sundress as the required comfortable dress, and although I had a pair of heels that were a perfect match for that dress, I went with the sneakers to fulfill his wish for comfortable cloth. I hadn’t worn them often, yet, and it felt strange to walk in them, now, but I couldn’t let him wait any longer, without getting suspicious or prove that the cliché that women always needed forever to get dressed was true.
Walking down the stairs, seeing him standing there, smiling up to me, made me feel better in an instant and although his appearance was somehow strange and different, I knew I had made the right decision by leaving the heels upstairs. They wouldn't have worked with what he was wearing, but although he looked obviously different, it took me a second to figure out what it was that had changed his look.
He had shaved and wore cologne that intoxicated me as soon as I had made it halfway down the stairs. I cursed him silently for doing this too me - it was hard enough to keep my hands off of him every time we were together, but manipulating my hormones by wearing my favorite scent, was pure torture and would make it hard for me to survive the day.
He must have read my mind (as usual) because as soon as that thought had crossed my mind, his smile turned into a big grin. I gave him one of my famous glares to restrain whatever thought he was having; but without much success.
Sighing, I gave up what had been a futile attempt in the first place anyway, and tried to concentrate again on figuring out what it was that made him look different. Reaching the end of the stairs, I finally realized that it were his cloths.
He wasn’t wearing his typical suit (if he had, I would have had a good reason to hit him just for telling me I should wear something casual while he would dress like he was going to the office), but white trousers and the navy blue sweater I had bought him for Christmas.
He looked good, almost hot in it; casual but still elegant and sexy, and I knew why I had felt underdressed as soon as I had seen him. I still had no idea what his plans were for today, and seeing him dressed like this wasn’t helping to figure it out, either. He looked like he was ready for a golf match, but this couldn't have been his plan, since I knew that he hated that sport; besides that it wouldn't have made a perfect date on a warm Sunday in July.
The curiosity was slowly starting to kill me and as much as I liked being surprised, I preferred to know what the day would bring, the minute I woke up in the morning.
When we had started dating last year, it had soon become clear that I would have to say goodbye to this planned-out life I had been living for years. In the beginning it was hard, but with every day, with every date, it was getting easier and I was starting to enjoy doing things on the spur of the moment again. I had missed that, without even knowing I did; and for that alone I loved him more than I would ever admit.
“Hello, stranger,” I said, smiling, when we met at the end of the stairs.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he replied, gently touching my cheek and placing a soft kiss on my lips, after he’d taken a long moment to undress me with his eyes. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled, absolutely sure that I was blushing. Without the heels I was a bit shorter than him and I had to look up to meet his gaze; but noticing the love in his eyes, the desire and the boyish sparkle I liked seeing so much, was worth the neck pain the missing heels might cause eventually.
“You look great, too. So … different. Are you working undercover again?”
“Blimey, is it that obvious?” He sighed theatrically. “Well… actually, I’m here to abduct the director of NCIS. I tried hard to keep a low profile, but it looks like I have underestimated you.”
“I’m afraid, the director isn’t here,” I answered smiling and successfully ignoring my stomach clenching when his words recalled the last (and only) time I had been abducted a few years ago. “And I guess that makes it your lucky day. Remember what happened the last time, someone tried to kidnap her. Do you want to alarm Gibbs and end up with his gun pointed at your heart?” I raised an eyebrow, giving him a questioning look while my fingers followed a trail up his chest until they reached the white v-neck of his sweater and my fingertips accidentally touched his bare skin. He shivered under my touch and I smiled, imagining how it would feel to help him remove this soft sweater, touching his even softer bare skin with my lips, and feeling his heartbeat and his muscles move against my body.
“I don’t think so.” My words were only a soft whisper but intense and loud enough for him to react immediately. He pulled me closer, brushing my lips with his and then lowering his head, moving to my left, until I could feel his warm breath on my throat.
“You can be a real pain in the neck,” he whispered, placing a kiss on the sensible spot right below my ear, and this time I was the one shivering under his touch.
My hands automatically moved to the hem of his sweater, pulling it up, until they touched the bare skin of his back. I could feel his muscles tense, while my hands worked their way up his back, slowly and teasing like I knew it would drive him crazy.
“You haven’t complaint before,” I whispered against the soft flesh of his neck, and then moaned quietly, when he started nibbling on my ear. “Trent … we … Noemi is in the kitchen. We shouldn’t …”
It took him a while before he reacted and since I had no intention to listen to my words either, and instead continued removing his sweater, I couldn’t blame for his slow response.
“Do you think we should go upstairs?” he asked, when he finally let go of me and stopped biting me neck. “Or would that make her suspicious?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, shrugging. My hands were still hidden under his sweater and I had no intention to remove them - although I knew it was distracting him and made it hard for him to not take me right here in the hall. ”I think she already is suspicious." I signed theatrically. "But that shouldn’t stop us, don't you think? It’s not as if we are two naughty teenagers about to do something our parents have forbid us to do.”
“But I like it when you are naughty,” he said, smiling mischievously and I couldn't help but blush again. My cheeks were burning and the butterflies in my stomach were doing everything to distract me. Retaining control was always hard, when I was with him, but in these situation I always wished to be stronger. At least we were at home and not in public, where things couldn't get out of control without attracting too much attention.
“Well … I suggest we go upstairs, then, and I’ll show you how naughty I can be.” I finally let go of his back, pulled his sweater down again - not without accidentally touching his butt - and offered him my hand.
“Sounds like a good plan.” He took my hand and let me upstairs, heading directly for my bedroom. He closed the door behind us and without wasting another second he pressed me with my back against it, kissing me passionately and gently at the same time; like no one else had ever kissed me before. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to get lost in this moment, forgetting everything and everyone in my life and focusing only on him, his body, his kisses, his touch, and the way he always managed to drive me crazy. These were the moments I felt special, loved and desired. These were moments I painfully realized what I had missed all these years and what I had sacrificed for my career, until I had met my knight in shining armor (or in white trousers and a navy blue sweater) who came to save me - and was saving me over and over again, ever since. I had finally learned that a job or a career couldn't provide you with everything and although it sometimes seemed as if it did, there was always something (or someone) more, worth living and worth fighting for.
“Trent?” I asked between two kisses, when his mouth started to move to my neck again. Placing butterfly kissing on its way.
“Hm?” he asked without interrupting his caress.
“Was this what you had planned? For today?”
“Eventually…” I could feel him smile against my skin and grinned. Sometimes men were so predictable - no matter how spontaneously they used to be.
“And before that?” I kept asking.
“A picnic in the park. With strawberries and champagne,” he answered, leaning backwards to look at me. “Are you disappointed, chéri?”
“You need to ask?” Smiling, I pulled him closer again and this time it was his back who hit the door; hard.
- The End -
AUTHOR: nicis_anatomy
CHARACTER: Jenny Shepard/Trent Kort
GENRE: Het, Romance
RATING: R
WORD COUNT: 1776
SUMMARY: When we had started dating last year, it had soon become clear that I would have to say goodbye to this planned-out life I had been living for years ... Written for prompt "strawberries and champagne" for older_not_dead. Originally also written for day #06 "sweater" for ncisdaily - but won't be used for this challenge.
NOTE: English still isn't my native language (although I wish) and the story is not beta'd. This is my first attempt to write smut and I'm not sure if it is any good … If it wasn't for marciafan and her head-slaps I may have deleted it again. And thank you also to nakeisha for her help ;)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters (although I'd love to own Action Figure Gibbs), nor am I making any money from them. If I would Season 5 would have ended different.
~*~*~*~*
When I was walking down the stairs, he was already there, expecting me. I knew he was waiting for me for a while now (I had heard the doorbell and Noemi asking him in only seconds later), but by that time I still needed few more minutes and was still standing in front of my closet, indifferent about what to wear.
He had been clear on the phone: something comfortable and no heels. The last part had been the most disturbing and most difficult one. I loved my heels and although most people couldn’t believe it, I felt comfortable wearing them and I could walk in them for hours without feeling the slightest pain. The heels were an inherent part of my daily wardrobe and it was hard to leave them in the closet. It had almost felt like I was betraying them with the white sneaker I chose instead. These sneakers were part of my wardrobe only because they went well with the floral sundress I had bought in Paris last spring. After some thinking I had chosen this sundress as the required comfortable dress, and although I had a pair of heels that were a perfect match for that dress, I went with the sneakers to fulfill his wish for comfortable cloth. I hadn’t worn them often, yet, and it felt strange to walk in them, now, but I couldn’t let him wait any longer, without getting suspicious or prove that the cliché that women always needed forever to get dressed was true.
Walking down the stairs, seeing him standing there, smiling up to me, made me feel better in an instant and although his appearance was somehow strange and different, I knew I had made the right decision by leaving the heels upstairs. They wouldn't have worked with what he was wearing, but although he looked obviously different, it took me a second to figure out what it was that had changed his look.
He had shaved and wore cologne that intoxicated me as soon as I had made it halfway down the stairs. I cursed him silently for doing this too me - it was hard enough to keep my hands off of him every time we were together, but manipulating my hormones by wearing my favorite scent, was pure torture and would make it hard for me to survive the day.
He must have read my mind (as usual) because as soon as that thought had crossed my mind, his smile turned into a big grin. I gave him one of my famous glares to restrain whatever thought he was having; but without much success.
Sighing, I gave up what had been a futile attempt in the first place anyway, and tried to concentrate again on figuring out what it was that made him look different. Reaching the end of the stairs, I finally realized that it were his cloths.
He wasn’t wearing his typical suit (if he had, I would have had a good reason to hit him just for telling me I should wear something casual while he would dress like he was going to the office), but white trousers and the navy blue sweater I had bought him for Christmas.
He looked good, almost hot in it; casual but still elegant and sexy, and I knew why I had felt underdressed as soon as I had seen him. I still had no idea what his plans were for today, and seeing him dressed like this wasn’t helping to figure it out, either. He looked like he was ready for a golf match, but this couldn't have been his plan, since I knew that he hated that sport; besides that it wouldn't have made a perfect date on a warm Sunday in July.
The curiosity was slowly starting to kill me and as much as I liked being surprised, I preferred to know what the day would bring, the minute I woke up in the morning.
When we had started dating last year, it had soon become clear that I would have to say goodbye to this planned-out life I had been living for years. In the beginning it was hard, but with every day, with every date, it was getting easier and I was starting to enjoy doing things on the spur of the moment again. I had missed that, without even knowing I did; and for that alone I loved him more than I would ever admit.
“Hello, stranger,” I said, smiling, when we met at the end of the stairs.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he replied, gently touching my cheek and placing a soft kiss on my lips, after he’d taken a long moment to undress me with his eyes. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled, absolutely sure that I was blushing. Without the heels I was a bit shorter than him and I had to look up to meet his gaze; but noticing the love in his eyes, the desire and the boyish sparkle I liked seeing so much, was worth the neck pain the missing heels might cause eventually.
“You look great, too. So … different. Are you working undercover again?”
“Blimey, is it that obvious?” He sighed theatrically. “Well… actually, I’m here to abduct the director of NCIS. I tried hard to keep a low profile, but it looks like I have underestimated you.”
“I’m afraid, the director isn’t here,” I answered smiling and successfully ignoring my stomach clenching when his words recalled the last (and only) time I had been abducted a few years ago. “And I guess that makes it your lucky day. Remember what happened the last time, someone tried to kidnap her. Do you want to alarm Gibbs and end up with his gun pointed at your heart?” I raised an eyebrow, giving him a questioning look while my fingers followed a trail up his chest until they reached the white v-neck of his sweater and my fingertips accidentally touched his bare skin. He shivered under my touch and I smiled, imagining how it would feel to help him remove this soft sweater, touching his even softer bare skin with my lips, and feeling his heartbeat and his muscles move against my body.
“I don’t think so.” My words were only a soft whisper but intense and loud enough for him to react immediately. He pulled me closer, brushing my lips with his and then lowering his head, moving to my left, until I could feel his warm breath on my throat.
“You can be a real pain in the neck,” he whispered, placing a kiss on the sensible spot right below my ear, and this time I was the one shivering under his touch.
My hands automatically moved to the hem of his sweater, pulling it up, until they touched the bare skin of his back. I could feel his muscles tense, while my hands worked their way up his back, slowly and teasing like I knew it would drive him crazy.
“You haven’t complaint before,” I whispered against the soft flesh of his neck, and then moaned quietly, when he started nibbling on my ear. “Trent … we … Noemi is in the kitchen. We shouldn’t …”
It took him a while before he reacted and since I had no intention to listen to my words either, and instead continued removing his sweater, I couldn’t blame for his slow response.
“Do you think we should go upstairs?” he asked, when he finally let go of me and stopped biting me neck. “Or would that make her suspicious?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, shrugging. My hands were still hidden under his sweater and I had no intention to remove them - although I knew it was distracting him and made it hard for him to not take me right here in the hall. ”I think she already is suspicious." I signed theatrically. "But that shouldn’t stop us, don't you think? It’s not as if we are two naughty teenagers about to do something our parents have forbid us to do.”
“But I like it when you are naughty,” he said, smiling mischievously and I couldn't help but blush again. My cheeks were burning and the butterflies in my stomach were doing everything to distract me. Retaining control was always hard, when I was with him, but in these situation I always wished to be stronger. At least we were at home and not in public, where things couldn't get out of control without attracting too much attention.
“Well … I suggest we go upstairs, then, and I’ll show you how naughty I can be.” I finally let go of his back, pulled his sweater down again - not without accidentally touching his butt - and offered him my hand.
“Sounds like a good plan.” He took my hand and let me upstairs, heading directly for my bedroom. He closed the door behind us and without wasting another second he pressed me with my back against it, kissing me passionately and gently at the same time; like no one else had ever kissed me before. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to get lost in this moment, forgetting everything and everyone in my life and focusing only on him, his body, his kisses, his touch, and the way he always managed to drive me crazy. These were the moments I felt special, loved and desired. These were moments I painfully realized what I had missed all these years and what I had sacrificed for my career, until I had met my knight in shining armor (or in white trousers and a navy blue sweater) who came to save me - and was saving me over and over again, ever since. I had finally learned that a job or a career couldn't provide you with everything and although it sometimes seemed as if it did, there was always something (or someone) more, worth living and worth fighting for.
“Trent?” I asked between two kisses, when his mouth started to move to my neck again. Placing butterfly kissing on its way.
“Hm?” he asked without interrupting his caress.
“Was this what you had planned? For today?”
“Eventually…” I could feel him smile against my skin and grinned. Sometimes men were so predictable - no matter how spontaneously they used to be.
“And before that?” I kept asking.
“A picnic in the park. With strawberries and champagne,” he answered, leaning backwards to look at me. “Are you disappointed, chéri?”
“You need to ask?” Smiling, I pulled him closer again and this time it was his back who hit the door; hard.
- The End -