Fighting Back
Title: Fighting Back
Author: pemphredouk
Pairing/Characters: Michael, Sara, Lincoln, LJ,OC, Alex, Sofia Gretchen and Whistler
Summary: Michael and Sara discover things, good and bad about themselves as they finally start fighting back. All locations mentioned in the story actually exist and can be found on the google map I've made to accompany this fic. It can be found Google Map of Road Trip here.
Chapter 15: Room 6 Hotel Baja, Highway 9, New Mexico
“Any news?”
“No more sightings in Mexico, I think we have to assume they’ve crossed Sir, and probably in the last two days.”
“They’ll leave traces. We still have all their possible destinations under surveillance?”
“Yes Sir”
“Good. Agents on the ground locally?”
“At them all sir….but can I ask…what are you expecting him to do?”
“I think that will depend on what his intentions are for the good Doctor. However he will eventually want to come find us. I’m sure.”
“Wouldn’t he be a bit crazy to do that Sir, he can’t take us on surely he realises that?”
“Scofield is anything but crazy. In fact his ability to control his particular mental state without sinking into craziness is what interested us in the first place. Let me know once they’ve broken cover ok.”
“Yes Sir…”
Michael woke the next morning to the sound of muffled singing but it was audible enough for him to raise his head from the pillow and try and locate the source. It seemed to be coming from the bathroom and he pulled the sheet back and padded across the room to investigate. He grinned as he pushed the door open and saw Sara almost submerged in bubbles, one long leg raised aloft as she smoothed a razor down the front of her calf her lips humming out the final few bars of the song now her memory had failed her on the lyrics.
“Nice voice.” His voice was croaky, and low.
She looked up and smiled,
“Thanks.”
“Need any help?” and he nodded towards the razor.
“No I’m managing just fine thanks….won’t be long…you want the shower?”
Michael stretched his arms up and out, rotating his shoulders, and Sara found herself gazing at how the angels and demons etched into his skin seemed to come to life as his muscles rippled beneath the images.
“I can wait, I’ll start the packing.” he added still groggy from the bone heavy sleep his body had sunk into the night before. He would never again take the luxury of a bed for granted. He turned to leave,
“Want me to get some breakfast or shall we get something on the road?”
“Let’s have something here.” she replied, angling her head and twisting her leg to see if she’d been thorough enough before continuing. “Andrea said we could stay until lunchtime, I don’t think her new guests are due until the afternoon.”
Michael nodded,
“Ok I’ll check out what there is.” He was still leaning against the door frame, the fingers of one hand curled around the edge of the door, hovering, watching.
“How’s the ankle?” Sara asked as she let one leg sink back into the bubbles and slowly raised the other one. Michael was distracted by the sight of her leg, barely resisting the urge to step forward and kiss her toes, to let his fingers sweep down the smooth skin of her foot….inching down the pale and elegant calves, glistening as the water bathed her in a satin sheen…. towards her knee and the promise of so much more that lay hidden beneath the bubbles.
“…Michael…the ankle?” Sara repeated stopping midstroke with the razor as she caught Michael gawping at her.
“Oh…It’s much better.” He replied, “Look.” and he twisted his foot around in a circle,
“Almost got full movement back.” He added as he continued to stare at his foot distractedly. “…Umm ok I’ll go now….” He said but didn’t move…his eyes still drawn to Sara in the bath….. Sara grinned,
“Scofield you’re such a peeping tom, go get food I’ll be here when you get back….”
“Right.” he said nodding slowly and with regretful frown on his face he reluctantly turned and retreated to the bedroom.
Twenty minutes later he returned to the room with some fruit and Danish pastries, a pot of coffee, and a newspaper folded neatly on the tray beside them. All had been efficiently provided by Andy with a smile and a comment about how sleeping in a bed suited him. A compliment he swept away with embarrassment and caused a deep grin to appear on Andy’s face. She had indeed spent rather too many hours the night before googling the man standing in front of her and had reached the same conclusions as Bob. Michael Scofield did not deserve to be hunted down and imprisoned again. She had fallen asleep pleased she had been able to help them a little, but worried it might not be enough.
He couldn’t see Sara, and placing the tray on the bed pushed the door to the bathroom open cautiously. But that room was also empty and he turned around quickly, panic rising in his throat.
“Sara?” He whispered, his mouth dropping open with worry. Where had she gone? and he felt the dread beginning to grip him mercilessly, squeezing him until his breath came in shortened gasps.
“Sara ..” louder now,
“Out here.” A lazy voice answered him and he almost stumbled with relief as he headed out through the French windows. He found her sitting at the small table which had been hidden by the curtains blowing lazily in a rare breeze.
His eyes took in her long supine body, reclining in the chair, her elegant legs stretched out in front of her, her plastered arm resting on the wooden armrest, the other lying across her eyes, shielding them for the bright sun that was now climbing high in the sky. She was wearing just a large towel, wrapped around her, one end tucked casually into the cleft between her breasts.
His eyes lingered for a moment on the small knot holding it there, his eyes roaming over her bare shoulders and neck and without realising it he licked his lips….his body already reacting to the tantalising sight laid out in front of him. But when he spoke, his voice was low and controlled giving no sign of his internal conflict. Yet he was fighting with his desire to pull her into his arms and lose himself.
“Aren’t you worried someone will see you?” he asked quietly, although the back of the annexe looked out over nothing but the desert scrub they were still in theory in quite a public area.
“Michael your such a prude sometimes whose going to see me?” and she waved her arms over the deserted campground to their left. “We’re the only guests in case you’d forgotten.”
Michael’s eyes were still taking in Sara’s almost prone body, his mind racing with the most un-prudish of thoughts and his fingers started tapping against his jeans with an energy that he was unable to suppress.
“I still think you should get dressed.” He murmured rather reluctantly as part of him wanted just the opposite.
“I can’t.” she replied finally lifting her arm from her eyes and turning to look at him.
“Can’t?”
“I don’t have any clean clothes, Andy still has the rest they weren’t quite dry last night…”
“Ah, ok then I’ll go fetch them.” He replied evidently relieved to find such a simple solution to the problem. His problem…of having a half naked Sara, a bed with crisp white sheets, and the very real possibility that this was their last day together and not being able to do anything about it…….
He moved to go back through the windows but he couldn’t resist a final word.
“You’ll burn Sara.”
“And you can be a nag Michael.” but she knew he was talking sense. Although some of her skin had darkened to a surprisingly rich tone of mocha, other parts, hidden by clothes and the dirt of the road were still pale and he was right, she would burn in this sun without cream.
She sighed and sat up and taking one last look out at the empty desert she followed him inside. Michael had just moved the breakfast tray from the bed to the small table and now hesitated, seemingly in conflict as to what to do next.
“I thought you were going for the clothes?” Sara asked, puzzled at his demeanour. He didn’t look up, but seemed to fixate on the tiled floor, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side, chewing his lips nervously. He didn’t answer but Sara had now moved towards the bed, gasping with pleasure when she saw the food and then the newspaper.
“Woah a newspaper, it’s been weeks.” and she picked up the carefully folded paper and moved to sit on the bed and start to spread it out in front of her. Michael had still not moved, transfixed by some hidden thoughts he had no intentions of sharing with her. He needed to concentrate, he had so much to think through, to plan, Jason Leif and what would happen in Scottsdale, the Company, his chances with the lawyers, Sara’s safety…so many things to consider, analyse. How was he expected to concentrate when she was so close, lying on the bed…a bed they had done nothing but sleep in …..her legs curled up beneath her, the towel held by that one twist…the only barrier to…..
Stop it he admonished himself silently, stop torturing yourself…nothing can happen remember… He focused instead on his mild annoyance that she was reading his newspaper, the one he had planned to enjoy with the coffee, a vain attempt to recapture one of life’s simple pleasures from before…well from a time he actually controlled his life rather than watch it spiral past him like some perverse fairground ride. He’d expected her to go for the food not the newspaper, and he once again realised how little they actually knew about each other. He turned his attention back to her and watched anxiously as she flattened it across the bed sheet, smoothing it with her hand and began reading.
She reached distractedly behind her for a pastry and took a large bite from its side, several flakes dropped onto the paper which she casually brushed away with her hand .
Crumbs!…Michael’s fastidiousness was now screaming at him, she made crumbs in bed! He tried to fight the anxiety creeping up him, at the sight of her breaking his own internally enforced taboos. But he was astute enough to know she would think them stupid and probably laugh at him…..
Sara had been engrossed in one of the leader articles, but whilst brushing another piece of flaky pastry from the printed words in front of her couldn’t help but notice Michael had not moved from just beside the bed and there was something about him that made her stop, and look up. The intense look in his eyes, the slight twitching of his cheek, told her there was a problem.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He lied.
“Oh come on Michael you’re a bundle of twitchy nerves what’s the matter?”
“Umm ...I was hoping to read the paper…”
“This? Sorry…you can have it in a moment.”
“It’s just… ummm…. I kinda like to read it whilst it’s still new, with the original creases and everything….” His voice tailed off as he realised how ridiculous his words must sound…and part of him couldn’t quite believe that he was moaning about a second hand newspaper less than 24 hrs after nearly dying in a desert from dehydration. But the old Michael, the Michael who hung his suits in a precise order to ensure they were all dry cleaned in strict rotation every month, and whose sock drawers were sorted by not only colour but also cotton mix just could not let this go….it was safer after all to argue about crumbs than let thoughts of ravishing her win…they couldn’t remember….time of the month and all that…so he ploughed on.
“And…umm…food in bed is never a good idea…it’s the crumbs you see...” he knew he was flailing around now for reasons, anything to make him sound less..Well less uptight but he couldn’t help it…
Sara in the meanwhile had taken another bite of the extremely flaky pastry and lifting her hand to her mouth she mumbled an apology.
“Oops sorry again then...” but the glint behind her eyes revealed a wicked playfulness she couldn’t resist.
However the look of anguish on his face told her she’d gone far enough and she quickly finished her mouthful licking her lips sloppily and started to fold up the newspaper. Michael winced, the original folds were now lost and he moved towards the bed,
“Here let me.” he said holding out his hand.
“Michael I can fold a paper.” She responded teasingly.
“No its ok leave it I’ll do it.” he said now kneeling on the bed and reaching for it.
“Michael I‘ve got it ok.” and she picked it up and started folding it closed.
She finished the job and placed it on the nightstand turning to see Michael still standing with one foot on the floor and his knee on the bed, swallowing noisily.
“Umm Sara” and he nodded towards her.
“What now?” She replied slightly exasperated…
“There… in your… ummm there’s a …” and she looked down to her cleavage realising that was where he had been nodding at. There was a pastry flake laying on the soft curve of her right breast just above her towel.
“See crumbs in bed, never works.” he murmured his voice surprisingly breathless,
“Here let me.” And he moved silently onto the bed next to her and to her surprise he leaned forward and before she had a chance to respond he flicked his tongue out hesitating for a millisecond before he placed the flat of his tongue against her skin and licked up, taking the small flake with him and then almost regretfully curling his tongue back away from her. She felt his hot breath on her skin, as his face remained just inches from her skin and suddenly this was no longer about discovering Michael’s idiosyncrasies. It was now more about desire and longing and just the intense physical need he seemed to create within her by just a look or in this case a breath.
Michael had moved back, the bed indenting as he took his weight on the knee closest to her and shifted slightly, he was getting ready to stand back up, to put some safe distance between them, already regretting that one relapse, to feel her soft skin under his tongue. Sara had watched his retreat and knew the moment would be lost within seconds unless she acted. So she grabbed at his t-shirt, feeling it bunch up under her hand.
“Where are you going?”
“To get you your clothes.” he whispered…slowly,
“I don’t need any right now.” she whispered back and reaching down she flicked at the knot holding the towel in place.
“And actually neither do you.” she added as she brushed her lips against his cheek and down onto his neck. Smiling as she felt his Adam’s apple bobble nervously under her touch.
“I thought…isn’t it too soon?” he murmured although his weight had now shifted back onto the lead knee, he had stopped trying to climb off the bed.
She shook her head,
“Everything’s just fine, and anyway, I’m curious.” Her eyes flicked up towards him and he wondered if the desire he could see there was just his reflected back or if she really did want the same.
“Curious?” he asked, breaking into a broad smile as he took in the meaning of her words.
“Yeah curious as to how it feels making love with you in a proper bed….” And she patted the sheets leaving no room for misunderstanding.
The rest was a blur of movements and gasps as Michael made short work of losing his clothes kicking them off the bed with barely a backwards glance.
He was already hard, his desire overwhelming him, his need for just this one last time with her eliminating everything else…just one more time…until they were all safe…She would have to leave him soon, he wouldn’t let her stay with him it was too dangerous, but she was still here now….he would have one more chance to show her how much he loved her, how every pore of his body ached for her. He captured her lips in such a deep soulful kiss as his hand found hers, grasping it and pressing down into the soft bed, trapping it, squeezing it, skin to skin, pulse to pulse.
Sara was a little surprised, she’d thought she was the instigator of this but Michael was quickly taking over, his erection already insistent against her thigh, his eyes glazed with lust and she barely managed to whisper out a cautious word before she was too caught up in the moment to think straight.
“Condom?”
“Shit,” a breathless whisper from him and the next moment there was just cool air against her body where Michael had been just seconds earlier. He was already half way across the room, and Sara leaned on her side to enjoy the view of a completely naked Michael. His shoulders were very broad, something she had never really noted before, her mind had always been distracted by the patterns, the blue green ink that overwhelmed him. His chest tapered down to a thin waist and then two incredibly perfect cheeks formed a beautifully pert bottom. His long legs stretched down, his thigh muscles, twitching slightly as he bent down to the bag and Sara smiled at the knowledge of what that body felt like next to her, on her, in her…and felt the heat begin to build.
When he returned, Sara noticed with a smile that he held several foil packages in his hand, keeping one between his finger and thumb and depositing the others on the nightstand.
“A little presumptuous possibly?” and she grinned her eyebrow quirking up.
He smiled back at her,
“I’m channelling my inner boy scout….you know ‘Be prepared’ ” and he tossed the now empty foil to join the pile of clothes on the floor, before covering her body with his in one smooth slide.
“I’d have joined the Girl guides if this is what Boy scouts were like.” She whispered as she felt his cock once more pressing against her stomach. His heat, mirroring the heat between her legs, and she was no longer interested in words, in mind games, in anything but feeling him inside her, filling her. She opened her legs a little more, letting him sink between her thighs and he leaned forward, using his elbows against the sheets to keep most of his body weight off her reaching as he did for her face with his hands. His fingers played with wispy tendrils of hair, wrapping one around his finger, curling and uncurling it. His eyes fixed on her, strangely unblinking as he seemed to try and stare into her soul.
“I love you Sara, and I know I’ve said this before but… it won’t always be like this….on the run, hiding out, one day I will give you life you deserve.” and with just a subtle twitch of his hips he slid into her slowly. He bit his lip as he controlled the urge to start thrusting immediately, her wet heat, gripping him, with such exquisite pressure that his body was screaming for the freedom to rock back and forward.
Slowly…finally…they started to move together, wordlessly agreeing not to kiss at first as their hands swept over each others bodies, smoothing and brushing, gripping and grabbing. Sara ran her fingers through his hair, no longer a buzz cut but longer, enough to feel the short hair part beneath her fingers…a new sensation. Her fingers moved down onto his face, stroking the beard, now a couple of centimetres long, loving the spikiness of it against her fingers. But ever aware of the unhurried careful strokes Michael was delivering, letting her feel the full slow slide of him, stretching, and caressing. She shifted her hips, feeling him sink even deeper into her and suddenly there was an urgency about him, his bottom lip was twisted now between his teeth, his eyes had darkened and there was an intensity in them that almost took Sara’s breath away and she raised her arm and curled it around his neck,
“Harder Michael.” She murmured, “Please….harder,” her mouth dropping open as she inhaled slowly.
He raised himself onto his hands, lifting his chest away from her, their skin sticking briefly to each other before he peeled away and then as impromptu punctuation to his movement his head dipped to pinch at her nipple playfully. He cupped his hands over her shoulders, his fingers gripping her, pulling her whole body down onto him, his cock embedding itself deeper, his thumbs reaching down to twirl across her hardened nipples in a surprising move that made her gasp.
His thrusts became faster, more powerful and she felt her whole body being slammed into the mattress as he arched his hips into her, pulling her down by the shoulders onto him with every plunge until she felt the need to take back some control. She slipped her legs up around his waist, gripping him with her thighs and altering the angle so he could penetrate as deep as possible, bone against bone and she felt herself slip towards the edge, her nerve endings screaming for release….
He stopped. And she opened her eyes, to find an intense pair of blue orbs staring back at her, he was breathless, his chest rising and falling rapidly, a slight sheen of sweat now covered his body and she could see several droplets beginning to form on his wrinkled forehead.
He looked as if he wanted to say something, and Sara was wondering why he felt the need for conversation at the very moment she was hanging, waiting to slip into the oblivion of sensations her climax would bring.
Now he had stilled she could feel him throbbing inside her, and she pushed up against him, their pubic bones were now pressed hard against each other. He was filling her completely and Sara sensed that he was trying to define them by this moment, two people as close together as humanly possible, joined, in mind and body, and she nodded, showing him she understood. There was a barely imperceptible sigh and then he was kissing her , his tongue, delving and diving , wrapping around hers then pushing deep into the recesses of her mouth, hungry and aggressive and he started moving again, deep powerful drives each one now accompanied by an earthy wild grunt that was the antithesis of an in control Michael. Seconds later she was undone and her world slipped and shimmied around her and she felt his release only as an aftershock on the wave of her own tremors…
Michael closed the trunk of the car, satisfied they had everything. He slid into the passenger seat carefully untangling the seatbelt before fastening it. He pulled his cap down onto his head, and turned to Sara in the driver’s seat.
“Ready?”
“Ready” she nodded and reached out to touch his arm. The warmth of her fingers immediately bringing back the sensations from an hour ago when for the third time that morning they had been lost in each other. The tactile memory of Sara’s fingers running up and down his arms as he held her on him, her body arching up and then grinding down as he pulled down on her hips and she rode them both to completion.
They had gradually lost their inhibitions during the morning, both determined to take full advantage of the bed and the privacy to experiment. To discover each others likes and dislikes, a touch here, a subtle change of rhythm there, a position that one preferred another that neither had tried before. This had resulted in screams of ecstasy on several occasions and fits of giggles when a couple simply didn’t work and they ended up moving back to more traditional embraces.
They were still breathless from what had been an extensive workout for them both when the heavy drone of motorbikes had filled the air and Michael could see dust kicked up in the camping field outside. He had quickly jumped off the bed and closed the window, drawing the long gauze curtains across to ensure some privacy. It was time to leave the sanctuary of Hotel Baja. It was time to get back on the road to an uncertain future for them both.
tbc
Author: pemphredouk
Pairing/Characters: Michael, Sara, Lincoln, LJ,OC, Alex, Sofia Gretchen and Whistler
Summary: Michael and Sara discover things, good and bad about themselves as they finally start fighting back. All locations mentioned in the story actually exist and can be found on the google map I've made to accompany this fic. It can be found Google Map of Road Trip here.
Chapter 15: Room 6 Hotel Baja, Highway 9, New Mexico
“Any news?”
“No more sightings in Mexico, I think we have to assume they’ve crossed Sir, and probably in the last two days.”
“They’ll leave traces. We still have all their possible destinations under surveillance?”
“Yes Sir”
“Good. Agents on the ground locally?”
“At them all sir….but can I ask…what are you expecting him to do?”
“I think that will depend on what his intentions are for the good Doctor. However he will eventually want to come find us. I’m sure.”
“Wouldn’t he be a bit crazy to do that Sir, he can’t take us on surely he realises that?”
“Scofield is anything but crazy. In fact his ability to control his particular mental state without sinking into craziness is what interested us in the first place. Let me know once they’ve broken cover ok.”
“Yes Sir…”
Michael woke the next morning to the sound of muffled singing but it was audible enough for him to raise his head from the pillow and try and locate the source. It seemed to be coming from the bathroom and he pulled the sheet back and padded across the room to investigate. He grinned as he pushed the door open and saw Sara almost submerged in bubbles, one long leg raised aloft as she smoothed a razor down the front of her calf her lips humming out the final few bars of the song now her memory had failed her on the lyrics.
“Nice voice.” His voice was croaky, and low.
She looked up and smiled,
“Thanks.”
“Need any help?” and he nodded towards the razor.
“No I’m managing just fine thanks….won’t be long…you want the shower?”
Michael stretched his arms up and out, rotating his shoulders, and Sara found herself gazing at how the angels and demons etched into his skin seemed to come to life as his muscles rippled beneath the images.
“I can wait, I’ll start the packing.” he added still groggy from the bone heavy sleep his body had sunk into the night before. He would never again take the luxury of a bed for granted. He turned to leave,
“Want me to get some breakfast or shall we get something on the road?”
“Let’s have something here.” she replied, angling her head and twisting her leg to see if she’d been thorough enough before continuing. “Andrea said we could stay until lunchtime, I don’t think her new guests are due until the afternoon.”
Michael nodded,
“Ok I’ll check out what there is.” He was still leaning against the door frame, the fingers of one hand curled around the edge of the door, hovering, watching.
“How’s the ankle?” Sara asked as she let one leg sink back into the bubbles and slowly raised the other one. Michael was distracted by the sight of her leg, barely resisting the urge to step forward and kiss her toes, to let his fingers sweep down the smooth skin of her foot….inching down the pale and elegant calves, glistening as the water bathed her in a satin sheen…. towards her knee and the promise of so much more that lay hidden beneath the bubbles.
“…Michael…the ankle?” Sara repeated stopping midstroke with the razor as she caught Michael gawping at her.
“Oh…It’s much better.” He replied, “Look.” and he twisted his foot around in a circle,
“Almost got full movement back.” He added as he continued to stare at his foot distractedly. “…Umm ok I’ll go now….” He said but didn’t move…his eyes still drawn to Sara in the bath….. Sara grinned,
“Scofield you’re such a peeping tom, go get food I’ll be here when you get back….”
“Right.” he said nodding slowly and with regretful frown on his face he reluctantly turned and retreated to the bedroom.
Twenty minutes later he returned to the room with some fruit and Danish pastries, a pot of coffee, and a newspaper folded neatly on the tray beside them. All had been efficiently provided by Andy with a smile and a comment about how sleeping in a bed suited him. A compliment he swept away with embarrassment and caused a deep grin to appear on Andy’s face. She had indeed spent rather too many hours the night before googling the man standing in front of her and had reached the same conclusions as Bob. Michael Scofield did not deserve to be hunted down and imprisoned again. She had fallen asleep pleased she had been able to help them a little, but worried it might not be enough.
He couldn’t see Sara, and placing the tray on the bed pushed the door to the bathroom open cautiously. But that room was also empty and he turned around quickly, panic rising in his throat.
“Sara?” He whispered, his mouth dropping open with worry. Where had she gone? and he felt the dread beginning to grip him mercilessly, squeezing him until his breath came in shortened gasps.
“Sara ..” louder now,
“Out here.” A lazy voice answered him and he almost stumbled with relief as he headed out through the French windows. He found her sitting at the small table which had been hidden by the curtains blowing lazily in a rare breeze.
His eyes took in her long supine body, reclining in the chair, her elegant legs stretched out in front of her, her plastered arm resting on the wooden armrest, the other lying across her eyes, shielding them for the bright sun that was now climbing high in the sky. She was wearing just a large towel, wrapped around her, one end tucked casually into the cleft between her breasts.
His eyes lingered for a moment on the small knot holding it there, his eyes roaming over her bare shoulders and neck and without realising it he licked his lips….his body already reacting to the tantalising sight laid out in front of him. But when he spoke, his voice was low and controlled giving no sign of his internal conflict. Yet he was fighting with his desire to pull her into his arms and lose himself.
“Aren’t you worried someone will see you?” he asked quietly, although the back of the annexe looked out over nothing but the desert scrub they were still in theory in quite a public area.
“Michael your such a prude sometimes whose going to see me?” and she waved her arms over the deserted campground to their left. “We’re the only guests in case you’d forgotten.”
Michael’s eyes were still taking in Sara’s almost prone body, his mind racing with the most un-prudish of thoughts and his fingers started tapping against his jeans with an energy that he was unable to suppress.
“I still think you should get dressed.” He murmured rather reluctantly as part of him wanted just the opposite.
“I can’t.” she replied finally lifting her arm from her eyes and turning to look at him.
“Can’t?”
“I don’t have any clean clothes, Andy still has the rest they weren’t quite dry last night…”
“Ah, ok then I’ll go fetch them.” He replied evidently relieved to find such a simple solution to the problem. His problem…of having a half naked Sara, a bed with crisp white sheets, and the very real possibility that this was their last day together and not being able to do anything about it…….
He moved to go back through the windows but he couldn’t resist a final word.
“You’ll burn Sara.”
“And you can be a nag Michael.” but she knew he was talking sense. Although some of her skin had darkened to a surprisingly rich tone of mocha, other parts, hidden by clothes and the dirt of the road were still pale and he was right, she would burn in this sun without cream.
She sighed and sat up and taking one last look out at the empty desert she followed him inside. Michael had just moved the breakfast tray from the bed to the small table and now hesitated, seemingly in conflict as to what to do next.
“I thought you were going for the clothes?” Sara asked, puzzled at his demeanour. He didn’t look up, but seemed to fixate on the tiled floor, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side, chewing his lips nervously. He didn’t answer but Sara had now moved towards the bed, gasping with pleasure when she saw the food and then the newspaper.
“Woah a newspaper, it’s been weeks.” and she picked up the carefully folded paper and moved to sit on the bed and start to spread it out in front of her. Michael had still not moved, transfixed by some hidden thoughts he had no intentions of sharing with her. He needed to concentrate, he had so much to think through, to plan, Jason Leif and what would happen in Scottsdale, the Company, his chances with the lawyers, Sara’s safety…so many things to consider, analyse. How was he expected to concentrate when she was so close, lying on the bed…a bed they had done nothing but sleep in …..her legs curled up beneath her, the towel held by that one twist…the only barrier to…..
Stop it he admonished himself silently, stop torturing yourself…nothing can happen remember… He focused instead on his mild annoyance that she was reading his newspaper, the one he had planned to enjoy with the coffee, a vain attempt to recapture one of life’s simple pleasures from before…well from a time he actually controlled his life rather than watch it spiral past him like some perverse fairground ride. He’d expected her to go for the food not the newspaper, and he once again realised how little they actually knew about each other. He turned his attention back to her and watched anxiously as she flattened it across the bed sheet, smoothing it with her hand and began reading.
She reached distractedly behind her for a pastry and took a large bite from its side, several flakes dropped onto the paper which she casually brushed away with her hand .
Crumbs!…Michael’s fastidiousness was now screaming at him, she made crumbs in bed! He tried to fight the anxiety creeping up him, at the sight of her breaking his own internally enforced taboos. But he was astute enough to know she would think them stupid and probably laugh at him…..
Sara had been engrossed in one of the leader articles, but whilst brushing another piece of flaky pastry from the printed words in front of her couldn’t help but notice Michael had not moved from just beside the bed and there was something about him that made her stop, and look up. The intense look in his eyes, the slight twitching of his cheek, told her there was a problem.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He lied.
“Oh come on Michael you’re a bundle of twitchy nerves what’s the matter?”
“Umm ...I was hoping to read the paper…”
“This? Sorry…you can have it in a moment.”
“It’s just… ummm…. I kinda like to read it whilst it’s still new, with the original creases and everything….” His voice tailed off as he realised how ridiculous his words must sound…and part of him couldn’t quite believe that he was moaning about a second hand newspaper less than 24 hrs after nearly dying in a desert from dehydration. But the old Michael, the Michael who hung his suits in a precise order to ensure they were all dry cleaned in strict rotation every month, and whose sock drawers were sorted by not only colour but also cotton mix just could not let this go….it was safer after all to argue about crumbs than let thoughts of ravishing her win…they couldn’t remember….time of the month and all that…so he ploughed on.
“And…umm…food in bed is never a good idea…it’s the crumbs you see...” he knew he was flailing around now for reasons, anything to make him sound less..Well less uptight but he couldn’t help it…
Sara in the meanwhile had taken another bite of the extremely flaky pastry and lifting her hand to her mouth she mumbled an apology.
“Oops sorry again then...” but the glint behind her eyes revealed a wicked playfulness she couldn’t resist.
However the look of anguish on his face told her she’d gone far enough and she quickly finished her mouthful licking her lips sloppily and started to fold up the newspaper. Michael winced, the original folds were now lost and he moved towards the bed,
“Here let me.” he said holding out his hand.
“Michael I can fold a paper.” She responded teasingly.
“No its ok leave it I’ll do it.” he said now kneeling on the bed and reaching for it.
“Michael I‘ve got it ok.” and she picked it up and started folding it closed.
She finished the job and placed it on the nightstand turning to see Michael still standing with one foot on the floor and his knee on the bed, swallowing noisily.
“Umm Sara” and he nodded towards her.
“What now?” She replied slightly exasperated…
“There… in your… ummm there’s a …” and she looked down to her cleavage realising that was where he had been nodding at. There was a pastry flake laying on the soft curve of her right breast just above her towel.
“See crumbs in bed, never works.” he murmured his voice surprisingly breathless,
“Here let me.” And he moved silently onto the bed next to her and to her surprise he leaned forward and before she had a chance to respond he flicked his tongue out hesitating for a millisecond before he placed the flat of his tongue against her skin and licked up, taking the small flake with him and then almost regretfully curling his tongue back away from her. She felt his hot breath on her skin, as his face remained just inches from her skin and suddenly this was no longer about discovering Michael’s idiosyncrasies. It was now more about desire and longing and just the intense physical need he seemed to create within her by just a look or in this case a breath.
Michael had moved back, the bed indenting as he took his weight on the knee closest to her and shifted slightly, he was getting ready to stand back up, to put some safe distance between them, already regretting that one relapse, to feel her soft skin under his tongue. Sara had watched his retreat and knew the moment would be lost within seconds unless she acted. So she grabbed at his t-shirt, feeling it bunch up under her hand.
“Where are you going?”
“To get you your clothes.” he whispered…slowly,
“I don’t need any right now.” she whispered back and reaching down she flicked at the knot holding the towel in place.
“And actually neither do you.” she added as she brushed her lips against his cheek and down onto his neck. Smiling as she felt his Adam’s apple bobble nervously under her touch.
“I thought…isn’t it too soon?” he murmured although his weight had now shifted back onto the lead knee, he had stopped trying to climb off the bed.
She shook her head,
“Everything’s just fine, and anyway, I’m curious.” Her eyes flicked up towards him and he wondered if the desire he could see there was just his reflected back or if she really did want the same.
“Curious?” he asked, breaking into a broad smile as he took in the meaning of her words.
“Yeah curious as to how it feels making love with you in a proper bed….” And she patted the sheets leaving no room for misunderstanding.
The rest was a blur of movements and gasps as Michael made short work of losing his clothes kicking them off the bed with barely a backwards glance.
He was already hard, his desire overwhelming him, his need for just this one last time with her eliminating everything else…just one more time…until they were all safe…She would have to leave him soon, he wouldn’t let her stay with him it was too dangerous, but she was still here now….he would have one more chance to show her how much he loved her, how every pore of his body ached for her. He captured her lips in such a deep soulful kiss as his hand found hers, grasping it and pressing down into the soft bed, trapping it, squeezing it, skin to skin, pulse to pulse.
Sara was a little surprised, she’d thought she was the instigator of this but Michael was quickly taking over, his erection already insistent against her thigh, his eyes glazed with lust and she barely managed to whisper out a cautious word before she was too caught up in the moment to think straight.
“Condom?”
“Shit,” a breathless whisper from him and the next moment there was just cool air against her body where Michael had been just seconds earlier. He was already half way across the room, and Sara leaned on her side to enjoy the view of a completely naked Michael. His shoulders were very broad, something she had never really noted before, her mind had always been distracted by the patterns, the blue green ink that overwhelmed him. His chest tapered down to a thin waist and then two incredibly perfect cheeks formed a beautifully pert bottom. His long legs stretched down, his thigh muscles, twitching slightly as he bent down to the bag and Sara smiled at the knowledge of what that body felt like next to her, on her, in her…and felt the heat begin to build.
When he returned, Sara noticed with a smile that he held several foil packages in his hand, keeping one between his finger and thumb and depositing the others on the nightstand.
“A little presumptuous possibly?” and she grinned her eyebrow quirking up.
He smiled back at her,
“I’m channelling my inner boy scout….you know ‘Be prepared’ ” and he tossed the now empty foil to join the pile of clothes on the floor, before covering her body with his in one smooth slide.
“I’d have joined the Girl guides if this is what Boy scouts were like.” She whispered as she felt his cock once more pressing against her stomach. His heat, mirroring the heat between her legs, and she was no longer interested in words, in mind games, in anything but feeling him inside her, filling her. She opened her legs a little more, letting him sink between her thighs and he leaned forward, using his elbows against the sheets to keep most of his body weight off her reaching as he did for her face with his hands. His fingers played with wispy tendrils of hair, wrapping one around his finger, curling and uncurling it. His eyes fixed on her, strangely unblinking as he seemed to try and stare into her soul.
“I love you Sara, and I know I’ve said this before but… it won’t always be like this….on the run, hiding out, one day I will give you life you deserve.” and with just a subtle twitch of his hips he slid into her slowly. He bit his lip as he controlled the urge to start thrusting immediately, her wet heat, gripping him, with such exquisite pressure that his body was screaming for the freedom to rock back and forward.
Slowly…finally…they started to move together, wordlessly agreeing not to kiss at first as their hands swept over each others bodies, smoothing and brushing, gripping and grabbing. Sara ran her fingers through his hair, no longer a buzz cut but longer, enough to feel the short hair part beneath her fingers…a new sensation. Her fingers moved down onto his face, stroking the beard, now a couple of centimetres long, loving the spikiness of it against her fingers. But ever aware of the unhurried careful strokes Michael was delivering, letting her feel the full slow slide of him, stretching, and caressing. She shifted her hips, feeling him sink even deeper into her and suddenly there was an urgency about him, his bottom lip was twisted now between his teeth, his eyes had darkened and there was an intensity in them that almost took Sara’s breath away and she raised her arm and curled it around his neck,
“Harder Michael.” She murmured, “Please….harder,” her mouth dropping open as she inhaled slowly.
He raised himself onto his hands, lifting his chest away from her, their skin sticking briefly to each other before he peeled away and then as impromptu punctuation to his movement his head dipped to pinch at her nipple playfully. He cupped his hands over her shoulders, his fingers gripping her, pulling her whole body down onto him, his cock embedding itself deeper, his thumbs reaching down to twirl across her hardened nipples in a surprising move that made her gasp.
His thrusts became faster, more powerful and she felt her whole body being slammed into the mattress as he arched his hips into her, pulling her down by the shoulders onto him with every plunge until she felt the need to take back some control. She slipped her legs up around his waist, gripping him with her thighs and altering the angle so he could penetrate as deep as possible, bone against bone and she felt herself slip towards the edge, her nerve endings screaming for release….
He stopped. And she opened her eyes, to find an intense pair of blue orbs staring back at her, he was breathless, his chest rising and falling rapidly, a slight sheen of sweat now covered his body and she could see several droplets beginning to form on his wrinkled forehead.
He looked as if he wanted to say something, and Sara was wondering why he felt the need for conversation at the very moment she was hanging, waiting to slip into the oblivion of sensations her climax would bring.
Now he had stilled she could feel him throbbing inside her, and she pushed up against him, their pubic bones were now pressed hard against each other. He was filling her completely and Sara sensed that he was trying to define them by this moment, two people as close together as humanly possible, joined, in mind and body, and she nodded, showing him she understood. There was a barely imperceptible sigh and then he was kissing her , his tongue, delving and diving , wrapping around hers then pushing deep into the recesses of her mouth, hungry and aggressive and he started moving again, deep powerful drives each one now accompanied by an earthy wild grunt that was the antithesis of an in control Michael. Seconds later she was undone and her world slipped and shimmied around her and she felt his release only as an aftershock on the wave of her own tremors…
Michael closed the trunk of the car, satisfied they had everything. He slid into the passenger seat carefully untangling the seatbelt before fastening it. He pulled his cap down onto his head, and turned to Sara in the driver’s seat.
“Ready?”
“Ready” she nodded and reached out to touch his arm. The warmth of her fingers immediately bringing back the sensations from an hour ago when for the third time that morning they had been lost in each other. The tactile memory of Sara’s fingers running up and down his arms as he held her on him, her body arching up and then grinding down as he pulled down on her hips and she rode them both to completion.
They had gradually lost their inhibitions during the morning, both determined to take full advantage of the bed and the privacy to experiment. To discover each others likes and dislikes, a touch here, a subtle change of rhythm there, a position that one preferred another that neither had tried before. This had resulted in screams of ecstasy on several occasions and fits of giggles when a couple simply didn’t work and they ended up moving back to more traditional embraces.
They were still breathless from what had been an extensive workout for them both when the heavy drone of motorbikes had filled the air and Michael could see dust kicked up in the camping field outside. He had quickly jumped off the bed and closed the window, drawing the long gauze curtains across to ensure some privacy. It was time to leave the sanctuary of Hotel Baja. It was time to get back on the road to an uncertain future for them both.
tbc