Human Target Fic: One Afternoon Stand
“Yep.” He smiled smugly at the ceiling.
“And I… and you… how many times did I…?”
“Several.” Impossibly, his smile grew even smugger. A small part of her wanted to smack him, but the rest was too bonelessly sated to do more than stare. The late-afternoon sunlight flooding in over his shoulder bathed them both in gold and threw the scars on his chest and arms into beautiful, stark relief.
A cold tendril of dread wormed into her belly. She barely knew this man. She had no idea where those scars had come from. She was in a cheap motel room in the middle of the day with her gun in its holster lying half way across the room- Where the hell are my panties?- and her car parked Lord knew how many miles away at the bar.
And she was lying in the goddamn wet spot.
His hand came to rest gently on her stomach and she almost flew out of her skin. “You need to breathe,” he instructed her curtly.
She realized she was hyperventilating. The world narrowed to the mildew-stained ceiling tile hanging above her head. “We had sex…ohmyGod… I don’t believe it, we had… sex…” She tried to force the panic back down her throat, past her hammering heart, into her gut. Which he was still rubbing in small, calming circles.
“Yep.” He propped his head on his hand and peered down at her. “Do you want me to ask for your name, rank, and serial number?”
“Fuck you,” she spat.
“You did.” He smirked. Any day he could mess with the fuzz was a good day in his book. Bonus points for the mind-blowing sex.
His hand continued stroking her stomach and now his fingertips brushed a bit lower, gliding over her still sensitive skin. Making her tighten and quiver in all the wrong places. Those should be illegal. Hell, they probably are.
The smirk turned into a leer. “Wanna try again?”
Her hand flashed up, fingers itching to smack the satisfaction off his face. Moving faster than she could see he snatched her arm out of the air and placed a delicate kiss on the soft flesh of her inner wrist. Followed by a lick. And a nibble. She shivered, and felt his lips grow into a smile.
“What are we even doing here,” she muttered, tugging her arm back to fling it across her eyes. Two minutes to think without the blinding afternoon sun frying my brain and… OH.
Something warm and wet skipped across her belly, tracing the same path his fingers had taken earlier. Her left leg twitched and her toes curled.
Guerrero nipped at her hip.
“I told you, babe. It was a nice dress.”