loccent | familiar spaces | we'll be in love by the morning

He stops at that, turns to her and lifts his free hand to caress her cheek. "You never said anything."

But even as he says it, he can put things together: he'd kept her at arm's length deliberately, even after multiple occassions where the opportunity to signal her for more presented itself. So, he amends that statement. "Then again, neither did I."

"You're not the only one who wrestled with guilty fantasies."

She can't help the little expression of disbelief. "You honestly think I never gave you any signs about that?" she asks quietly. "Ana was so loud in her teasing, I honestly thought...that you knew, and was trying to keep me at arm's length on purpose because you weren't interested."

She pouts, nudges her way past him and walks up to the doorway of his old flat. "I better hear all about those fantasies now."

He lets her pass and slips the keys into her hands as he comes up behind her. He isn't going to lie. He's glad he gets to come back here; as if Eudio knew he might return - and that he'd prefer the private space he, Phil and Ana had taken as theirs, instead of settling somewhere else.

Coming up behind Mae now and caging her a little against the door.

"Ana teased because she knew I liked you and was agonizing over it. I honestly thought she was doing it to clue you in." Juarez was dependable like that. He should have figured that she'd attempt to hit two birds with one stone.

"For the record, I always wondered what it would be like if we got the flat to ourselves -- without a snowstorm making me feel like I might be taking advantage of you."

One hand on the small of her back now, fingers indulging in the feel of her dress' fabric.

Oh yes, that snowstorm brings back good memories, of him trying to give her a footrub to warm her feet, and her falling asleep on their couch, plied with mulled wine and hot chocolate alike.

The surprise touch makes her fumble a little, key missing the keyhole a few times, as the graze of his fingers against her back, through the thin fabric of the dress and all, is enough to make her nearly have an orgasm in the building hallway.

She lets out a shaky breath and leans her forehead against the still locked door, trying to focus.

"And...are you going to show me what you'd do?" Key finds the lock, and she twists, and pushes the door open. "Or just talk about it?"

What is it about seeing her fumble that lock that he feels like he's not likely to keep things in his pants. Not that either of them are likely to object that this point, really.

The door is open, which makes it easy for him to nudge her inside, close it right behind them, and then loop an arm around her waist to draw her up because he needs to kiss her again. So he does.

"We can still talk about it," gently nipping at her lower lip at that. "I can multitask."

Talk? About something? Right, they were talking about something, but her brain is a bit fried now. He has the right presence of mind to pull them both into the flat, and close the door behind him, which means that her low moan is not heard by anyone else but the two of them, thankfully.

There is no more fumbling now. She chases his mouth for another kiss, and her toes practically curl in her shoes when he bites her lip like that.

"Tease." She crushes her lips against his again, impatient. "Hope you didn't have plans for the next few days, Josh," she warns him between kisses, "I'm keeping you here."

"My only plans involved you." He murmurs that against her mouth, even as he picks her up; one arm wrapping around her torso as he leans his shoulders back against the door for balance, his free hand guiding one leg to wrap around his waist.

No beating around the bush this time; no dancing around the feelings between them both. There's a flutter in his chest, and if he's smiling as he leans into those kisses, it's only because this is finally -- finally sinking in.

"Couch?" He asks, breathless.

"Yeah," she manages, because at this point anywhere will do. She wraps both legs around his waist, because when he picks her up it's not like she can touch the ground anymore anyway. The skirt of her dress slips down, bunches at her hips, leaving her pressed against him with nothing but a single layer of barrier.

A giddy little laugh escapes her, interrupting the kiss. She leans her forehead against his. "This is so hot."

"You're so hot." He murmurs back, walking them both to the couch where he eases down while stealing a kiss from her lips.

He still remembers the last time they found themselves alone here: snow, cold, the heater struggling to keep the place warm while he put together sandwiches to hand out to the volunteers braving the cold outside. Mae had looked... right, in his space. And if it weren't for a misplaced sense of chivalry, he'd have found other ways to keep them both warm.

Skimming hands down her back now and letting his fingers linger along the zipper of her dress.

She doesn't need to do much, he carries her, without struggle. It makes her feel sexy and desireable, to be seemingly so easy to just pick up.

When he sits down, gravity does the trick, bringing her down more fully in his lap. "I remember this couch..." She shoots him a little grin, and leans in to trace soft kisses down the line of his jaw, the side of his neck. She only pulls back when his fingers reach the zipper of her dress, and she makes eye contact with him again.

"Leave it on," she whispers, immediately pulling her lower lip between her teeth. It's not like Mae, with her job at the sex toy shop and her outrageous flirting is shy. But they've skirted around wanting each other for what now feels like an eternity too long, and for the first round to be something rushed and still dressed on the couch is...

Kind of perfect.

She leans in and bites his lower lip quickly, then nuzzle his nose with hers. "For now, anyway."

She leans in and he can feel the press of her against him - so forgive him if the next words come out a little strangled.

"Do I still get to touch?"

Hands moving lower now, his palms happy to cup her ass and press her a little closer.

"I enthusiastically encourage that, actually," she quips, with the last bit of sass that's left before her brain fries from how good it feels to feel him.

A little gasp escapes, and encouraged by his hands there, she rocks against him slowly. "You're so hard..."

There's a slight wheeze from him, before one hand comes up to cup the nape of her neck so he can drag her down for a kiss.

"Don't tease." A whisper now, fingers slipping beneath her skirt so that he can trace the flesh on the back of her thigh.

"Oh, now I really want to," she murmurs, rocking against him again. She leans close, seemingly going in for another kiss, lips swollen and tingly, lipstick messed up. At the last second, she deviates, until she's whispering in his ear.

"You could have this. Just like this. Right here. I bet you'd slide right in, fill me up so nicely..." A kiss against the skin below his earlobe. "If you knew how wet I am for you right now..."

He shudders at the warmth of her breath at his ear and instinctively squeezes the flesh of her thigh. His breath has gone shallow at the image of her riding him; his throat dry with want.

"Nipping her bare shoulder at that and then tracking kisses up the side of her neck. "Oh, are you now?"

It doesn't take much to tease her there; a shift of the hand at most. She's exactly as she promised: wet and wanting, her slick noistness seeping through the fabric and onto his fingertips.

She lets out a soft groan at that, and leans back to watch him. Greedy to see his expression, to see if it feels just as good for him to be touching her, as it does for her. And it does - it feels amazing, and just the beginning.

She sinks her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, pulling him back from her neck so she can catch his gaze. Lips parted, a pretty little blush on her face and all.

"Keep going..." she asks, very nicely.

There's a soft sound deep in his chest when her fingers thread into his hair as she pulls his head back. It's something he's honestly always found so irresistible about Mae. How, barring those odd shy moments that caught them both by surprise, she'd never shied from speaking her mind or asking for what she wanted.

Both hands now, fingers curling over the fabric of her underwear to drag it down before he traces his fingers in a line across her slick heat.

"Not going to lie," there's a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "the way you feel right now makes me want my mouth on you."

She has to reluctantly peel herself off his lap so he can take her panties off, but it's a sacrifice she is willing to make. Up and off she goes, and toes the underwear to the side as soon as she's stepped out of it. The skirt has fallen back into place, and she is standing in front of him again, between his spread legs.

"I know we should pace ourselves but," she starts, and brings one knee to the couch between his legs, leaning forward again. "I don't wanna."

"We can pace ourselves later," reaching for her now, feeling skin starved and warm. "Let me touch you."

It's both a plea and a request for permission.

She cracks a little smile, and stays there, head tilted to the side, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"I don't know, I'm wondering if you wouldn't benefit from being made to beg for it a little bit..."

It's as if he forgets to breathe, even as his eyes go dark with want.

He chooses his next words carefully, and watches her face, unable to help the way he licks his lips. "And how would you do that?"

There's a dare there. A little 'okay, try me.'

She smiles first, a whole signal that he's done right to ask. Then, she pushes herself up straight and takes a step back from the couch, reaching behind her to unzip her dress.

"I'll make it a rule," she answers. "No touching me, unless I say you can." She slips her dress off, letting it drop to the floor with her underwear, leaving her in a deep red bra, and little else.

This escalated fast, maybe, but it feels so right. She's not going to question it. Instead, she's going to give him a show, turning around slowly, bending over when she has her back to him, so he can see how pretty her ass looks, how nicely it frames her pussy, and how wet this whole thing made her.

"Is this what you want?" Reaching behind her, she goes beyond just show to smack her cheeks with both hands, to grope and ease them apart a little, show him more.

Then she stands up straight, shoots him a wink over her shoulder, and walks all the way to the bedroom.

He wonders how he could get any more turned on than he already is, but here we are. He'd felt his stomach tighten when she'd bent over, fingers curling into fists as if to tell himself to calm the fuck down.

And then she's sauntering into his bedroom and he's easing himself up and off of that couch to follow her.

Leaning against the door frame now: chin low, gaze hungry and voice even as he reaches for the buckle of his belt: "What if I raise you one on that and let you tie my wrists to the headboard."

Is his heart pounding fast? Yes.

Does he hope this is something she'd like? Yes.

That pulls a little laugh out of her. "I knew you didn't just come to my store to hang out."

She will, in this case, come up and take the belt out of his hands, holding it taut, considering it. Has she tied someone up for sex before? No. Has she wanted to? Almost as much as she'd like to be tied up herself. Does she want to tease him like that?

Considering that she can think of a few ways to make him beg for more, yeah.

"Get in bed for me, baby."

Later, he thinks, once she's had her way with him, he plans to return the favor and worship her whole the way he wished he had before coming back to Eudio.

He'll steal one last kiss from her mouth, before he's moving towards the bed and shedding his shirt with no little amount of awareness that this is entirely for her benefit.

There are some new electrical burn scars along his hip, but they've faded enough into light marks across his otherwise sun-kissed skin. Mae is also welcome to note the way the freckles on his shoulders climb towards his nape.

Lying with his back on the bed now and lifting his wrists so that they're resting against the wrought-iron bed frame.

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