((R)) you break me like a promise || OPEN

[nixon mason grey]

you took the time to memorize me

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He didn't know what he was doing. In all honesty, he didn't even know who he was anymore. The confusion that was constantly sweeping through his mind and his heart was overwhelming. He felt like he didn't know which way was up or which way was down and it was making him crazy. Never before had he experienced these emotions before and he didn't know how to explain them, or even describe them. Did he actually care this much for someone in his life? He had done nothing more than shuffle through his days with acquaintances and business partners and the more than occasional woman that he could fuck without any attachments. But this wasn't like that. Not in the least. And he could honestly admit to himself that it scared him.

He had gone to jail only a week ago because of his concern for the young woman. He had wanted to make sure that she got out of that situation, no matter what it had cost him. Normally he would have only been worried about taking care of himself. He would have been concerned with slipping through the policeman's fingers, but that wasn't the case this time. He had put himself on the line, put himself on their radar even more so than usual just so they wouldn't go after her. Little did he know that they would have never grabbed her in the first place. His sources hadn't been able to dig up any dirt on Scout. She was clean, having graduated high school and college with flying colors. There was nothing suspicious about her records, no missing pieces that he had to dig for to fill in the spaces. It was just all so confusing to him. How could he actually care about someone as much as he cared about her?

He wouldn't call it love. It wasn't love. He hadn't known her long enough to love her and he himself didn't even know how to love. It was as simple as that. Nixon was never going to love someone so maybe he needed to put that out in the open now. However, he had distanced himself from her ever since she had gotten the charges dropped for him at the precinct. He appreciated it to no end, and had even sent flowers to her address the next day. They were extensive and expensive, but it hadn't mattered to him. It never did. Sighing softly to himself, he wondered why he had made himself into such a recluse this past week. The bruises on his face still head yet to heal, and he hid the ones dotting his chin with a constant scruff. Because of that appearance, he excused himself from his business transactions this week because he didn't want to come of as unprofessional. He hadn't contacted anyone, he hadn't done anything. He really had become a hermit.

Worst of all was that he was ignoring her phone calls and text messages. He knew that it wasn't right and she probably hated him by now, but he couldn't bring himself to talk to her. He was trying to figure things out first. He needed to figure things out first. He needed to understand if he was ready for a relationship if he asked her out and she said yes. What if she said no? Could he face that rejection? What if she said yes? Could he have a girlfriend? Could he face the public with her at his side? He didn't know. He didn't know if he could pull someone into the type of business that he ran either. Not that any one would know what he did, but it was a lot to risk. If he slipped up or one of his employees slipped up, his entire world could be torn upside down or right from beneath his feet. He couldn't risk it. He just couldn't do it. So, he had decided on taking a walk to clear his head.

Going out in public right now wasn't his brightest idea ever, but it was what he needed right now. He was putting together a disguise so that no one would really recognize him, or so he hoped. His blue jeans were not usually what he wore, so that was helpful right off the bat. Other than that, his regular, faded tee shirt and worn baseball cap helped matters as well. Shoving his phone into his pocket, he grabbed his keys and headed out the front door of one of his many guest houses. He had needed an escape from his life as well. Walking along easily, he didn't really think about where his feet were taking him, and instead pulled his black jacket more tightly around his slimming frame. Once he reached what he deemed an appropriate destination, he leaned up against the railing of the Harbor. He could people watch here all day if he wanted to. And honestly, that sounded like the best idea he had had in a while.

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CREDIT TO OH HAI JENNERS ?! OF CAUTION 2.0

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[SCOUT ELAYNA GREY]

theres a thunder in our hearts baby

so much hate for the ones we love

TAG: NIXON OUTFIT: HERE ONE LAST THING: SO IT PROBABLY SUCKS AND I'M SORRY. WHEN THEY START TALKING, I'LL GET BETTER. OR AT LEAST I'LL TRY. LMAOOO

To say work was complicated was only the icing on the cake. Since she'd convinced her boss to allow her to pursue her 'fake' relationship with Nixon, she'd been caught in a limbo of hiding her true feelings around her coworkers and being unable to resist how she felt when she was near him. It drove her insane, the constant struggle to produce the right truth around the right people and never to betray herself to the wrong ones.

She still had her boss convinced her 'relationship' with the billionaire suspect was only for show since they'd been spotted by the tabloids at the baseball game. Nixon, however, she couldn't read as easily. Then, his sudden disappearance did nothing for either her personal sanity or the uneasiness at work. Nixon was her responsibility, the only reason she'd been allowed to stay near the dangerous criminal was to learn more about him and ultimately get him thrown in jail. All of the reasons her boss had yelled at her every morning so far this week still bounced around in her head, making her wish she could block it all out.

He'd fallen off the grid, even for her, for a week now. Now that he was gone, she knew beyond a doubt that her confusing feelings for him went far beyond the sex. She needed to see his face and hear his voice, and she honestly missed him. At work, she chalked her peevishness up to her job, shrugging it off when her coworkers asked her about it. On her off time, she wondered how he could have disappeared after that heartfelt conversation they'd shared only moments before he'd been nabbed and thrown into a holding cell. How could he walk away?

But she knew the answer without asking the question. He was a runner. He always had been in his line of work, that was what had kept him out of the hands of the police until now, and he obviously was in his personal life. The way he'd so easily assumed she was interested in him for nothing but his money, the way he'd turned her away instead of allowing her to first explain herself; it all added up to his inability to commit. Part of her had known it all along from the bits and pieces she knew of his personality from her files. Now that she'd been with him on a personal and intimate level, she knew it even more. He was a free spirit, and he trusted no one.

Not that she blamed him. They barely knew each other, and such powerful emotions scared her as well. Hence the reason she couldn't fully admit that she'd thrown all her effort in to find him. She hadn't searched as heartily as she knew she was capable of doing because she was scared to see him. What if he acted like he'd never even met her? What if they were strangers again? And could she handle that? No, she couldn't. Not after the way he'd touched her that first night, the way his mind and body and voice lingered in her head like the after effects of some drug. No. She couldn't quit him just because he turned her away, and that scared her as much as her feelings. Her seeming inability to be done with him, her addiction to his nearness, was mind-numbingly petrifying. She hated herself for such weakness, despised that she would lower herself to such things, and her pride kept her from finding him.

She'd tried calling him, but he never answered, and she wondered if he'd changed his number and skipped the country. It wouldn't surprise her. However, the massive flower arrangement she'd received - clearly marked with his thanks - only served to confuse her. He'd doted on her, throwing his money in her face whether he did it consciously or not, and then he disappeared without so much as a word. It was as if she was his whore who he'd paid off and sent on her way. The hurt and anger that sent through her was enough to counteract her desire to see him again, and sent her into her spiral of confusion and neglect, leading to her hair-brained days at work.

She hated being this out of control. Only Nixon Grey could do this to her. She hated him for it. It turned her into a hypocrite, and that filled her with self-loathing. She knew she could never hate him as much as she hated herself for what she'd become. She threw herself into other cases, and she'd drug in three perps within the last week. Her hair looked as if it hadn't been brushed in days, and her eyes had dark circles under them. That was when the chief pulled her into his office and ordered her to take some time off. She argued that she didn't need it, but of course, her arguments went ignored.

So she'd spent two hours in the morning combing through the tangles in her hair, giving it its soft wave once more. She curled her hair back away from her face and touched up her make-up. She didn't know why she bothered (it wasn't as if she cared what anyone thought she looked like), but the whole ritual served to restore her an ounce of her self-esteem. She was Scout Shepherd, descended from a line of good people, and she was a strong woman. Her father had always taught her that even if he hadn't taught her how to express herself very well.

She watched tv for about an hour before boredom overcame her. Realizing she had nothing to eat in her kitchen, she sighed heavily and dressed herself for public, deciding to head to the nearest deli to feed herself. Once outside, she was overcome with an itch to enjoy the sunshine, and she ordered her sandwich to go. Without the stress of being the good cop or bad cop, she truly did enjoy Boston as a city. It was rich with history and passion, and she got caught up in being a civilian for once. She actually forgot about Nixon and her self-consciousness where he was concerned, and she climbed aboard a ferry carrying her out to the harbor where she could see the city in its full glory. The boat circled the harbor, offering the tourists a glimpse of the city's marvelous skyline before turning back to the shore and depositing them in a teeming mess of voices and camera clicks.

Stepping down from the ship, she meandered with the crowd before breaking away from them and heading to a more secluded area. The relative quiet on this side of the harbor was relaxing, and she managed to forget about it all if just for a few hours. The day was pressing on lunchtime by now, and she felt her stomach rumble greedily, but she ignored it. Leaning on the railing, she closed her eyes as the harbor breeze blew in, ruffling her light sweater and brushing her blond hair back from her face. She could forget it all right here, right now. She knew she would have to remember eventually, would have to face up to the fact that Nixon wanted nothing to do with her and she'd also failed at her job, but she didn't have to think about that now. Now, all she had to worry about was the breeze.

tell me that we both matter dont we

TEMPLATE BY: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY ! @ CAUTION.

[nixon mason grey]

you took the time to memorize me

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His steel grey eyes stared unseeing over the waters that graced the harbor. He had so many thoughts within his mind and he couldn't keep track of them all. He had always been an organized individual. He had always managed to keep his ideas organized and his life was a series of files and messages and everything had a system. He needed that system and now that it was out of whack, it was like he had forgotten how to function. Furrowing his brow at that realization he suddenly realized what he was doing. He was making excuses. He was making it impossible for himself to commit because it affected his business life and he just couldn't have that. Why was he so afraid of settling down with someone in a relationship that could be classified as steady? Because that had a sense of permanence and nothing was permanent in Nixon Grey's life besides his wealth. Dating someone would mean that he was letting his carefully constructed walls down and he wasn't sure that he was ready to do that.

But it wasn't fair, what he was doing. He had strung her along. He had made it quite clear on more than one occasion that he cared for her as more than just the convenient fuck. She had seen him at his weakest point, when the fear was obvious in his eyes. He had let his guard down, if only for the moments he was with her, but that was enough for her to see that he did care about her. Sighing to himself he knew that he couldn't do this to her. He knew how much she cared about him and he knew that he returned those feelings. This wasn't a game. He couldn't play her like he played his customers. These feelings were real, this situation was delicate and he couldn't stand the thought of hurting her. That fact alone was enough to send him spinning. When had he ever cared about hurting someone else? He did it on a daily basis. Shaking his head quickly, he reached into his pocket, pulling his cell phone free. Unlocking the device, he went into his contacts and scrolled down to her name. His finger hesitated over the call button and he realized that was terrified.

He was terrified of rejection, terrified of facing her after disappearing for more than a week. He didn't want to see the hurt on her features. He didn't want to hear the disdain in her tone if she even picked up the phone. This was what he was used to. He was used to being a failure in the eyes of the people that were supposed to care about him. It had happened with his parents and it was going to happen with Scout. Nixon couldn't hold down a personal life because he deemed himself incapable of that. Struggling with himself, he finally pressed the call button. His heart beat was increasing rapidly as he fought to keep himself patient and brave. However, he couldn't do it. As the first ring filled his ears, he hung up the phone. Why couldn't he talk to her? The call had gone through. She was going to see his number there. She was going to know that he had tried to call her, or would she view it as he accidentally clicked her number? This was just ridiculous. He had never stressed over anything like this before.

Turning from the railing, he decided that he needed to at least send her a message so that she knew it wasn't a mistake. Going to her number once more, he hit send text message instead and hurriedly typed something up. He hit send before he could even debate about not doing it. The message was simple. "I'm so sorry Scout. I need to see you." Nixon wasn't used to asking people for things. He was used to demanding them. So even though his request was just that...a question, it had come out as a statement and he couldn't fix that now. Huffing in frustration, Nixon shoved his cell phone angrily into his pocket. This was a mess. He didn't know how to do this. He didn't know how to fix things, to make things better. He didn't know how to hold down a relationship because he didn't even know what a relationship entailed. This was stupid. This was ridiculous. He was such a joke. Shaking his head to himself as he turned to walk away from the railing, his grey eyes lifted and he suddenly stopped short.

He had to be dreaming.

She was standing right in front of him, leaning against the same railing that he had just been leaning on. She was only feet away from him this entire time while he was silently freaking out about simply sending her a message. His jaw dropped slightly as he stood there frozen in shock, but there was that feeling. His heart beat intensified immediately by the very sight of her and he felt the whoosh in his stomach that any normal person would describe as butterflies. But he was Nixon Grey. He couldn't be feeling butterflies. That was unheard of. Biting his lower lip as he got a hold of himself a little, he looked away for a moment. He had to do this. He had to talk to her. As he moved to walk to her, he made sure his gait was quick and sure so that he couldn't duck out of this. "Sc-" He was just about to finish calling out her name when he was suddenly slammed into.

It seemed Nixon Grey had just been hit by a bicycle.

This had to be a joke. How in the world could he have been mauled by a bicycle?! He spun quickly after the initial collision, landing roughly on his back as the bike fell on top of him, along with the biker that he not been paying attention. The biker's cell phone, which he had been using while he hit Nixon, flew up and hit Nixon straight in the forehead, causing him to yell out. That had hurt. The wind was knocked clear out of his lungs and he struggled to breathe as the rather heavier set man was scrambling to get off of him. "Dude! I'm so sorry! You just came out of no where! Are you okay?! Wow...your face is bruised! Did I do that!?" The man was right in Nixon's face, and as he spit on him one more time, Nixon shoved him back roughly, angrily, his teeth gritting against the pain that bloomed through his ribs. "I'm fine you imbecile. Get off of me." He snapped viciously, shoving at him once more. He was going to hit this oaf if he didn't remove himself from his personal space in five seconds.

The man apologized over and over again, but Nixon's attention wasn't even on him anymore. Why in the world did these horrible things have to happen while Scout was around? Nixon sat there, dazed and slightly confused, wondering how in the world he got himself into these situations.

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CREDIT TO OH HAI JENNERS ?! OF CAUTION 2.0

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[SCOUT ELAYNA GREY]

theres a thunder in our hearts baby

so much hate for the ones we love

TAG: NIXON OUTFIT: HERE ONE LAST THING: LAWLZ

Scout stood with her eyes closed, her face in the wind. The harbor fed a steady breeze toward the city as the wind rushed across the water to slam into the upright skyscrapers placed in its territory. Her blond hair danced around her shoulders as she sighed happily and just enjoyed it. Her worries were asleep for now, and she tried to blank out her mind as she stood enjoying the relative quiet in her little corner of the world. Of course, cars honked and moved behind her, people passing by could be heard as their voices drifted to her over the wind, the sound of bullhorns on ships in the harbor echoed around the buildings, but she was like an island of peace in the center of it all.

She could survive without Nixon Grey. She had lived this long without him in her life, and she could continue without him just the same. The hole in her chest wouldn't dissolve with the revelation, but she must believe it would over time. That was the only way she could go on. She didn't understand how she could be so attached to a man she couldn't admit to loving - she hadn't had enough time to, so how could she believe that was what she was feeling? - but she had. She would have to let him go the same way he'd dropped her out of his life.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated in the pocket of her jean shorts, making her jump slightly. Frowning, she felt her heart jump with excitement (maybe it was him?!). Chiding herself, she dug the phone out of her pocket as it went dead, only vibrating once. With a mildly irritated sigh, she wondered who had called her just to hang up again. When the phone slipped out of her pocket, her heart stopped in her chest. His name flashed on the screen, the words MISSED CALL blinking red beneath it. How could this be? After a week of silence, and then he calls her just to let it ring once and hang up?

Anger rose in her throat, but she pushed it away. It wasn't fair of her to be mad with him. It wasn't as if he owed her anything. Glaring out across the harbor, her solace shattered by this one tiny event, she debated calling him back. But why should she? Just to embarrass herself by him answering just to admit he'd butt-dialed her when he'd intended to simply ignore her for the rest of his life? Or even worse: he wouldn't answer at all. Instead, she stood at an impasse, turning her phone over in her right hand as she stood facing the wind.

The phone vibrated once more, jolting her out of her made-up explanations for what could possibly be going on, and she glared down at it, challenging it to betray her. Sliding the unlock key on the touchscreen, this time her text messages flashed open to reveal his words.

I'M SO SORRY, SCOUT. I NEED TO SEE YOU.

The mixture of rage and excitement that coursed through her was overpowering. Now, he was apologizing. Now, he was admitting he needed to see her. After a week of disappearing off the face of the planet, and now he wanted to see her. Grinding her teeth together, she sighed and hung her head, the breeze still tossing her hair around in its golden dance. She'd almost been done with him, almost moved on, and there he was again to drag her right back in.

Then the excitement kicked in. He had been thinking about her. He needed to see her as badly as she needed to see him. She was sick with herself for actually indulging in this fairytale - that the bad boy could be saved by the good girl - but she couldn't help it. She was stubborn and headstrong, and she honestly believed there was much to Nixon that was redeemable. But maybe she wasn't enough? Maybe she was as unhealthy for him as he was for her. But her doubts were always there, contradicting her. She knew she needed to see him. She couldn't heal on her own, and at least she could face him and tell him she was done with this game.

So caught up was she in forming the words to respond to his text message, she never noticed he was only feet from her. He noticed her before she ever realized she wasn't alone, and it wasn't until someone cried out that she instinctively jumped and turned to see the commotion. All she could see at first was a tangle of bodies and bicycle, one man on the ground, followed by the bike and its rider on top of him. An object flew wildly out of the cyclist's hand, smacking the victim in his face and knocking his hat from his head, revealing a mop of dark golden curls. The biker began apologizing profusely, and in confusion and worry, Scout moved toward the altercation, sensing the tension building.

The heavier set man stood, pulling his bike off of the slender man on the ground, and as he went on about the other man's bruises, Scout couldn't help looking at the man's face. She barely got a glimpse at him before he barked sternly at the bicyclist, his voice cutting her deeply and taking her breath away. She hadn't heard that voice in a week, and the last time she had, she still hadn't fully come to understand what was going on between them before he was gone. The biker apologized for the billionth time and then leapt on his bike to speed away, leaving the few onlookers to meander off and Scout standing gaping at the man she knew so well, and yet so very little, sitting on the pavement.

She still held her phone in her right hand, but she reacted with instinct before she could stop herself. She threw her phone at Nixon where he sat, smacking him in the side of his head with the smartphone. "How dare you?!" she snapped, her relief at seeing him teeming as powerfully as her ire at his impudence. She wanted to throw her arms around him, tear his sunglasses from his eyes so she could see his fathomless gray eyes, and kiss him until she passed out from lack of breath, but she didn't. Instead, she glared down at him as she moved to retrieve her phone.

"You don't talk to me for a week, a damn WEEK, and then you text me to tell me you 'need to see me' when you're standing five feet away the whole damn time?!" she screeched, angry tears rising in her throat and forcing her to stop talking so she could get a grip on herself. It was all too much for her. Her heart, her brain, couldn't take this kind of torture any longer. Shaking her head, she stamped her foot and sighed audibly. "I hope you didn't hit your head too hard. Better to protect that precious face of yours since it's the only thing that matters to you."

It was hateful, but she didn't care. He had hurt her too badly for kindness. The part of her that wanted to kiss him and tell him she had missed him with every fiber of her being would have to wait. She didn't deserve to be treated the way he had treated her, even if he was the great and awesome Nixon Grey.

tell me that we both matter dont we

TEMPLATE BY: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY ! @ CAUTION.

[nixon mason grey]

you took the time to memorize me

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This day could not get any worse. His plans, his wonderful plan to go up to her and sweep her off of her feet even though he was a mess inside was foiled instantly by this buffoon of a bike rider. That man had no business being on a bicycle. He should seriously consider doing home exercises before allowing himself out in public in spandex. Nixon was traumatized by the spit on his face and the sheer weight of that pig wrapped in a blanket. His ribs were on fire from where the bicycle had dug into him, and his head was making him see stars. He couldn't see straight and as the bike rider got up and hastily biked away from the scene of the crime before he could get sued, Nixon suddenly felt something hard collide with the side of his sensitive head. Yelping loudly, he felt hot tears prick at the back of his eyes from the sheer pain of the situation. He didn't let them fall, but he cradled his head after a moment, trying to get the ringing in his ears to stop.

He felt like he was going to be sick, and when he heard the voice that peppered him with anger, he really did want to get sick. She was here alright, and she was furious. He really didn't blame her because of the way that he had treated her, but his sensitive head really didn't appreciate her actions. Resisting the urge to cry out from the pain in his head, he just held it in his hands, doing his best to get his vision to stop swimming in front of him. Reaching to the back of his head quickly, he pulled his hand away, relieved that he didn't see blood. However, the sizable lump gave him the confidence that he was going to be feeling this head ache for at least a couple of days. Blinking the pain away from his eyes, he stayed where he was, not trusting himself to stand up at the moment. Looking up at Scout, he registered the fury there and he instantly felt horrible. He never would have believed that he would have this much of an impact on someone. It just showed how deeply their feelings ran.

As she glared down at him and went to retrieve the brick that she had launched at his tender face, he watched her, completely dazed. Her angry tones reached his ears again and he realized that she did have a point. Except for one problem. "In my defense, I didn't realize that you were standing five feet away from me. And in my defense again, I was walking to you when Senor Fast Food Spits A Lot collided with me on his bloody bicycle." He really didn't even know what he was saying. Senor Fast Food Spits A Lot? Seriously? If Nixon was in his right mind, he would have never said a thing like that but he was a bit confused at the moment. Trying to defend himself was useless because he knew that he was wrong and she probably wasn't in the mood to hear it, but he had tried at least. Biting the inside of his lip, he looked up at her as she tore into him, letting her get her initial rage out. However, he last words really got to him, and he reached for some clarity through the fog that was settling over him.

"Hey, wait a minute. That's not fair!" He managed to slur out, climbing to his feet with little grace. That wasn't like him. If there was one thing that Nixon could do, it was move agilely. But as he clambered to his feet rather clumsily, he swayed as he stood. Blinking, he steadied himself for a moment and then reached for her hand, not releasing her. He hadn't lost his intensity even if he did have a concussion. "The whole reason I've been distant is because I care about you!" He told her honestly, his grey eyes holding pain and honesty. She had to believe him. She had to understand that he was simply trying to figure out where his feelings lay. "I've never felt like this for anyone before Scout, please believe me. I just needed you to know that I..." He paused then, trying to get his thoughts in order. But his mind was a muddled mess and he couldn't even figure out how to simply tell her his name, let alone tell her what was in his heart. As he looked at her helplessly for a moment, he suddenly swayed, losing his balance and his equilibrium all at once. He tripped as he struggled to keep himself upright, and he was falling more quickly than he could even blink.

He landed hard on his back once more, trying to keep his head from smacking into the pavement, but it happened anyway and his ears rang once more. Groaning from the impact, he was suddenly aware that he had brought Scout down with him because he hadn't let go of her hand. Well, this was good. Now she had to listen to him. "Okay. Okay good. Now you have to listen to me. So listen to me Scout. I mean it. Just shut up and listen to me because I'm only going to say this once." He stuttered out, trying to sound as crisp and as clear as he possibly could.

Telling her to shut up probably wasn't the best approach to this, but he needed to get his point across. Besides, his brain wasn't functioning properly at the moment and he was trying to stop the endless, incessant ringing. Since that was not happening, he sat up, keeping his hold on Scout, not letting her go. It didn't matter to him that they were in the middle of the harbor, in public. This had to be said and she had to hear it. Finding her blue eyes, he spoke earnestly, honestly. "I didn't avoid you for this past week because I wanted you out of my life Scout. I avoided you because I've been trying to figure out how to keep you in it. I've never wanted to be with someone as much as I want to be with you. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you this past week. I haven't slept, I haven't eaten, I haven't done any work. I've been trying to convince myself that I don't need you, but it's not true. I do need you. I need you because for once in my life I've felt something other than being unnecessary to someone. I need you because you see me. Somehow, you see me for me. I don't know how, I don't know why, but I haven't been okay for the past week. I can't be without you. I don't want to be without you."

He finished breathlessly, still looking rather helpless as he sat there across from her. He didn't know if any of that made sense. He did know that he felt like he was going to be sick, but he kept it together so that he could finish this conversation. He didn't know how to prove himself to her, and as he sat there, he could only think of one thing. Since intense was basically his mantra, he leaned forward and didn't give her a choice. He kissed her. He kissed her hard, but there was a need, a thirst in this kiss that she alone could satiate. He needed her. Him saying that was insane in itself, but he had admitted it. That was a start.

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CREDIT TO OH HAI JENNERS ?! OF CAUTION 2.0

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[SCOUT ELAYNA GREY]

theres a thunder in our hearts baby

so much hate for the ones we love

TAG: NIXON OUTFIT: HERE ONE LAST THING: WHEWT

She realized, too late, that her pelting him with her cellphone actually hurt him. She wanted to take it back, but she was angry enough that she didn't apologize. His yelp was satisfaction enough as she bent to retrieve the phone and glared down at him, showering him with her scathing words. Breathless after her fiery tirade, she stood up and drew herself together, forcing herself to remain calm. When he defended himself, she rolled her eyes and snorted, spitting her last words at him before turning away.

His cry of injustice caught her in her steps, and she stopped to turn to spit more hate in his face, and his hand grabbed hers. If she'd wanted to pull away, she couldn't, and she felt that familiar fire sizzle in her palm, inching its way up her arm. She clenched her teeth as that also-familiar impotence threatened to inch its way into her brain. Stubbornly, she pushed it away and glared at him as he opened his mouth to speak. Unwilling to let him get the last word, she opened her mouth and retorted even as he began talking to her, "I don't want your excuses..."

She trailed off as his words sank in. He cared about her. He had been avoiding her because he cared about her? She'd been right; he couldn't take commitment. She didn't know why any of this mattered to her anyway since 1) they'd never been officially dating in the first place and 2) she should only be invested in this because it was her job. Her feelings never should have been involved. But that all went down the tubes the moment he'd first kissed her at that nightclub, and it all tumbled around her as she'd allowed him into the inner recesses of her mind and body later on throughout the night.

He continued explaining, and the words leeched at her heart, pulling her back in... No. She couldn't let him do this to her, manipulate her again so she was a puppet in his agile fingers. When he paused, she launched into him before realizing he was swaying and woozy. "Nixon, don't do this. I can't..."

She realized too late that he was falling, and she instinctively reached to catch him. His hand still gripped her wrist strongly, and she tripped, falling with him with a yelp of surprise. She landed right on his chest on the sidewalk, her cheeks flushing red from embarrassment. They were pressed against one another as she was tangled around him, her arm managing to become pinned beneath him as he'd fallen. She tried to wrestle away from him, but he kept her confined and forced her to look into his face that was now only inches from her own.

Now you have to listen to me-

"Oh, no I don't!" she argued, twisting to free herself. It was no use, and only served to scrape the outside of her wrist which remained firmly pinned beneath his rib cage. "Let me... go!"

Just shut up and listen to me because I'm only going to say this once. Her mouth clamped shut with an audible pop as she glared indignantly down at him. Her blue eyes flashed dangerously, but she heard the sincerity in his voice as he continued. Thankfully, he sat up, causing her to twist sideways so she sat in his lap with her hand wrapped around his back, holding her prisoner against him, against her will. If she could put some distance between them, she may have a fighting chance at resisting, but he held her firmly, not letting go.

His words came out like a torrent, and his gray eyes trapped her like a moth in amber. She stared defiantly into those deep eyes, hearing every word like a beat of her heart. As he admitted he wanted her in his life, that he hadn't been able to sleep or eat or think without her, her defenses crumbled. All the anger in the world couldn't keep her from falling even more for him as his confession spilled out of his lips. Tears pooled in her eyes as he rambled on, dumping his feelings into her lap as he'd never allowed himself to do before. She'd opened up to him, confessed her deepest secret (about her father) to him that day at Fenway Park, but he hadn't responded and had been swept up by the police soon thereafter.

Now, he confessed it all to her, especially how she could see him for who he was and not just the facade that everyone else saw when they looked at his handsome face. She got an unwarranted memory of their night together, standing in his shower as he boldly watched her climb in after him. How his eyes had raked her, challenging her, and she had surprised him. She had finally seen him then, reveled in him, and allowed him to explore her in a way she knew no man every had before. She had seen that fear, the wonder, in his eyes then, and she knew that's what he spoke of now.

He looked nauseous and pale as he finished and watched her, and she swallowed heavily, unsure how to react. She wanted to apologize for how she'd behaved, wanted to hear more of his sweet words, but now she felt guilty for being so angry before. As she looked up at him, unsure if she should answer, she didn't have a chance as he leaned in and took her breath away with a hard kiss. His words were shocking enough, but feeling the desperateness in his lips sent her reeling. Since he still held her arm around his back, she naturally wrapped herself around him, kissing him back as he leaned in to her. She had been silly to think she could so easily write him out of her mind. Something about him had pulled her in the instant they had argued at his birthday party, and that sort of chemistry she was unable to resist. She'd never felt such reckless abandon for a man, and her other hand found its way to his arm as she kissed him. All of the turmoil she'd felt in the past week was in that kiss, and she whined mournfully as she finally broke from his lips and sighed heavily.

"You really mean it...?" she asked quietly, looking down at his shirt as her forehead rested on his. She still sat in his lap, and she'd hardly noticed people stopping and congregating to look at them. Distantly, she heard cameras snapping, but all she could see was Nixon. "You're admitting that you need me," she pointed out, smiling slightly. "I've missed you, you asshole," she teased, laughing even as tears of relief clogged her throat. She couldn't predict where they would go from now - their relationship was far from easy, and she would always be caught pretending it wasn't real for the sake of her job - but she was so caught in the moment she actually didn't worry for once. She was falling in love with Nixon Grey. She would have to consider the consequences later.

tell me that we both matter dont we

TEMPLATE BY: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY ! @ CAUTION.

[nixon mason grey]

you took the time to memorize me

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As she struggled against him with her words and her movements, Nixon refused to let her go. He might have been dazed from the small accident he had just gotten himself into but he was strong enough to hold onto her. He wasn't going to let her go again. He wasn't going to lose her because of his inability to commit, because he couldn't keep her close. He had had enough of his commitment issues and he just hoped that Scout would have the patience to help see him through this. He didn't want to lose her. He wanted to be strong enough to keep her with him, to admit to himself that it was okay to have a real relationship. Sighing to himself now, he clung to her, knowing that he was being stubborn, but not caring. She needed to hear what he had to say because it would change everything. Or, he hoped that it would change everything. She could choose to write him off completely, and by the way she was fighting him, his greatest fear was that she was going to walk away.

So he was clinging to her to keep her with him for more reasons than one. He couldn't lose her. He couldn't. The week away from her was hard enough as it was, and that was self inflicted. He couldn't imagine how bad or how hard it was for her, for she didn't know why he had done what he had done. He hated himself for his inability to tell people the truth, especially because it mostly happened when he started to care for someone. So basically, it had only occurred once in his lifetime, and that was with his parents. But because they pushed him away so easily, he was afraid to allow himself to care for anyone else. That was why he was having such a difficult time with Scout. But right, as she sat in his lap, still trying to escape his clutches, he could tell that she was thinking through everything that he was saying. As she pulled at him once more, his clouded mind grew frustrated. "Can you just sit still!? Stop fighting me, for Christ's sake." He nearly snapped at her, trying to remain calm but struggling.

As she seemed to settle in his arms as his admittances came to light, he breathed a sigh of relief. Well that had seemed to work. He only prayed that this wasn't the calm before the storm. She had wanted to ream him out, it was easy to see. She was giving him a chance for some reason. He didn't understand why but he certainly wasn't going to question it and he certainly was going to take advantage of the situation. Still holding her arm carefully behind his back, he was unaware of the crowds that were gathering around them, but it was uncertain if he would have acknowledged them anyway. He was too concerned with what was happening between them at the moment and he didn't want to ruin it this time. And it was then that he was kissing her, knowing that it would be the only way to really convince her of everything. If he poured his longing into that kiss then she would know. For some reason, she could read him better physically than any other person he had ever come across. And when they were intimate, it was like she could read his mind. Parting his lips slightly, he deepened the kiss, still pressing hard against her, wanting her to feel him put everything that he had into the simple action.

When she pulled away, he could not mistake that whimper that left her lips as they parted. He studied her with want and desire in his eyes, but there was more to it than just that. He wanted her for her, not just for pleasure. He desired her because he was starting to fall in lover with her, although his cold heart would never admit that without some help. Watching her now, he felt sick and tired, but it could not erase the utter elation that was pouring from his very soul as she sat in his lap now, satiated and at peace with what he had told her, admitted to her. Hearing her question, he kept his forehead resting against hers for a moment, before pulling away to gently kiss her own forehead. "With everything that I am, Scout." He murmured softly against her skin, aware of the photographers and paparazzi now gathered around them. Trying to ignore the sea of people now, and trying not to think about what the newspapers would say about the seemingly missing billionaire now reappearing in the middle of the harbor with the mystery blonde girl, he sighed and wrapped his arms around her.

"I do need you, and I did miss you. Come home with me? Please?" He asked her desperately, wanting nothing more than to hold her all day long. He wanted to learn her all over again, he wanted to show her what he was all about again. He needed her. Trying to ignore his splitting head ache now, he remained where he was, doing his best not to sway, or get sick. Holding her close grounded him, but he was truly starting to feel ill. "Bloody bike rider." He said with a wry grin, looking down at her with dilated pupils. He was doing his best to hide the fact that he was hurting, but he was struggling now. He just didn't want anything to ruin their happy reunion. Looking at her now, he decided that he needed to make it clear to the both of them as to what they wanted. "Do you want to be..." He paused there, struggling with his question. He was terrified, and it showed in his shaking hands as he gently cradled her face. "Will you be my girlfriend, Scout?"

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CREDIT TO OH HAI JENNERS ?! OF CAUTION 2.0

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[SCOUT ELAYNA GREY]

theres a thunder in our hearts baby

so much hate for the ones we love

TAG: NIXON OUTFIT: HERE ONE LAST THING: WHEWT

Even if he hadn't convinced her with his words, the kiss persuaded her of his sincerity. She leaned in to him, desperate for that touch that would connect them again, and she felt him pull her mouth onto his, deepening that connection. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, pounding in her ears as she finally pulled away and rested her forehead against his.

What itched at her the worst was how she understood his fear of commitment. It irritated her that he hadn't been able to commit himself to her, but she was equally as unreliable. The only thing she'd ever been dependent with was her job. She'd never been in a relationship longer than the line at Starbucks, and she was as scared of him as he was of her. She didn't admit any of this, of course, but she sighed contently as she heard him respond that he did in fact need her. She'd never wanted to be needed before (unless it was her boss asking her to do more work, since she was unhealthily devoted to her job), but she felt those butterflies when Nixon admitted he wanted her there in his life.

The cameras snapping pictures of them finally began to catch her attention, and she instantly balked at the idea of her boss seeing this. He'd been hounding her to find the billionaire all week, but she wasn't sure he'd be pleased with her methods when he saw page six. She stiffened and moved to stand, but Nixon wrapped his arms around her and began whispering, pulling her under the spell of his comfort. She forgot about what the newspapers would say, what her boss would say, and all she could hear was his soft, pleading voice asking her to return to his house with him.

In the past, she would have instantly leapt at the opportunity if for no reason other than to snoop through his home for clues. Now, she found herself wanting to go with him just to be with him, just to be Scout with him. Leaning away from him to look into his gray eyes as he cursed the bike rider, she instantly noticed his eyes were dilated. A warning rang out in her mind, and she knew he had a possible concussion. Heat rose in her chest as worry swept over her.

"Nixon, your eyes..." she started, gently reaching to touch his cheek as he attempted to speak once more. Shifting her weight, she slid out of his lap and, with gentle pressure, made him turn his face up so she could see his eyes in the brighter light. He tried speaking, and she shushed him. "It's okay, you don't have to say anything else. We need to get you looked at."

Then he said it. The question took her breath away. She blushed as if he was proposing to her on the sidewalk instead of simply asking her to be his girlfriend, but honestly, she knew this was a huge leap for him. Hell, it was a huge leap for her. She couldn't profess to officially being anyone's girlfriend for years (probably since high school), and the sincerity in his voice made her want to cry tears of joy. She felt like such a fool as she bit her bottom lip and couldn't resist smiling stupidly down at him. Her hands cupped his face as he looked up at her, and she released a surprised gush of air.

"Oh, Nixon," she whispered fervently, letting his words sink in. "You didn't even have to ask, silly. I'm already yours." She whispered it so only they could hear, not only because she could get in serious trouble if the paparazzi repeated her words, but because she didn't think they deserved to hear them. Her words were only for him, as was the desire and love in her eyes. She couldn't hide it, couldn't deny it, and that rational part of her just hoped her boss would chalk it up to good acting. Leaning in, she kissed him lightly, a promise, and then grabbed his hand to haul him to his feet.

"We need to go," she urged, coming back to reality as the cameras continued clicking away. She herded him along with her, positioning herself so she was beside him and behind his shoulder so she could keep him upright and partially hide her face. As they passed a particularly rude pair of photographers, she shoved them away angrily. "Get out of the way, you leeches."

Thankfully, she was able to get him to lead her to his car, and she took the keys from him even if he protested. "Get in, and stay awake. This day has been full of too much drama already, I will not allow you to pass out and bleed to death from brain trauma. I can't handle that kind of thing right now." Her words were teasing, of course, but she meant it. After getting him back in her life, she wasn't about to let that slip away again. She'd crossed that threshold, and there was no return. She'd crossed to the dark side.

"You have to stay awake so you can tell me where to go, Nixon. Last time you drove and I was a bit... busy," she noted, raising her eyebrows and smiling to herself, biting her bottom lip. She was sure he would remember that car ride, but the point was that she needed him alert and she honestly had no idea how to get to his house.

tell me that we both matter dont we

TEMPLATE BY: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY ! @ CAUTION.

[nixon mason grey]

you took the time to memorize me

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He wasn't even truly aware of the paparazzi around them at the moment because of how focused he was on Scout, and because of the head ache that was making him feel as if he was sitting when he was merely sitting down. Sucking in a breath to try to erase the nausea from his stomach, he looked back at Scout as she said something about his eyes. A rather cheeky grin worked its way onto his pale face, and he spoke up, sounding slightly delirious. "I know, I know. My eyes. They're amazing. Am I right?" He finished with what could be described as a giggle, and a giggle coming from Nixon Grey could actually be defined as adorably hysterical. It would probably be more adorable if he wasn't concussed, but that was such a fine line. However, she shushed him then, and he managed to work up the ability to glare playfully at her until she guided his face to look up at her into the brighter light. He blinked wildly, his head ache blooming as he tried to look away from the bright source.

Nearly crying out from how uncomfortable he was, he was suddenly aware of her smiling down at him after he had asked her to be his girlfriend. When she announced that she was already his, a rather goofy grin passed over his features. The elation that he felt at this moment clouded everything else that he was feeling, and he felt breathless and heady from the moment. She had agreed. She wanted to be with him, she wanted to be his. Any fear of commitment was placed on the back burner in this very moment. He would prove to her that he could be worth something to her, that he could be who she needed him to be in her life. He could be committed, he would be committed. He'd be there for her. He wouldn't disappear like he had. Decision made, he continued smiling up at her even as she leaned down for a kiss, a promise. Returning it gently, he knew that that kiss meant more than any word she could ever say to him in that moment. Feeling bolstered by that moment alone, he let her pull him to his feet, once again lacking grace because of his physical condition.

He nearly plowed into her from how dizzy he had gotten from the head rush, but he wrapped an arm around her thin waist to steady himself for the moment. Blinking wildly, he looked down at her. "I don't think...that I...I don't think I feel so well, huh?" Why he was asking her that, one would never know, but it made sense in his spinning mind. When she announced that they needed to go, he didn't even argue with her, and he pushed their way through the maze of paparazzi and press, keeping his face tilted to the ground as he tried desperately to walk a straight path. It was rather difficult and there was no doubt that the press would paint the picture as him being drunk in public, finding his mysterious lady. He could just imagine the headlines now. "Scout, I messed up." He said rather brokenly once they were out of range, the worry evident on his face. He didn't really mess up when it came to being out right now. He messed up when it came to her, but his words could hold so many different meanings, as they usually did. Sucking in a breath, he exhaled slowly and somehow managed to lead her to his black and red Mercedes.

Making her reach into his pocket for his keys, he gave her what he thought was a mischievous look but one could never really tell at this moment in time. "Are you sure that's them? Really sure? Should you reach back in?" He teased her openly, making it quite obvious that he hadn't forgotten their first encounter. When she finally got him situated in the passenger seat of the car, Nixon rested his head back on the seat, closing his eyes for a moment. He felt so tired and all he really wanted to do was take a nap. However, she got in the driver's seat and started barking orders at him to stay awake so he didn't bleed to death from brain trauma. "You'd miss me too much." He said with his eyes still closed, but he sat himself forward, listening to her so he wouldn't worry her even more. Cradling his splitting head in his hands, he heard her next words and couldn't help but chuckle. "You mean you were horny." He teased playfully now, finally feeling at ease in her presence. Sitting forward still so he wouldn't fall asleep, he realized he couldn't stay in this position because he had to direct her.

He spoke the directions easily, feeling himself start to get turned on all over again in her presence. He had missed her in more ways then one, and he turned his steely gaze over to her as she managed to drove his standard operated vehicle. He would be lying if he didn't think that was hot. Turning his attention to her completely now as they were stopped at a traffic light, he directed her to take a left, but his hand slowly reached over the distance between them. He reached to the inside of her thigh, revealed because of the shorts that she was wearing. His breath quickened as he trailed his hot fingers up underneath the leg of the short material, massaging her closer and closer to where he so desperately wanted access to. They needed to get home and they needed to get home quicker than this. "Drive faster." And there it was. Even through his ill state, his intensity had made an appearance. It was a scarier side of him, one that he could not completely erase no matter how much he wanted to be tender with her. He couldn't right now. He had missed her too much.

Pulling his hand from the bottom of her shorts, he reached for the button quickly, feeling himself growing more and more aroused just by simply touching her. Never before had he been so affected by a woman and she was driving him insane. Succeeding in opening her shorts, he pulled the zipper down and with shaking fingers, reached to where he needed to feel, stroking her as he had that first night they had met, when she was perched sexily on top of a stranger's car. Working her into a frenzy now, he stopped his ministrations just before she could even think about having a release, wanting to tease her because it was just the way that he did things. Not even bothering to button her shorts back up, he directed her to his front gate, revealing not one of his guest homes, but his actual mansion. Turning his lust filled eyes to her, wondering if she understood what this meant, he rolled down her window as she stopped at the gate and leaned over her, punching in the code that would allow them access.

Collapsing back in his seat from his dizziness, he closed his eyes for the moment, turning his face away from her to hide the devilish smirk on his features. It didn't take her very long to get to the garage, and when she pulled in, he got out almost instantly. Resisting any urge to be sick, he went to her door and opened it for her because he still needed to be the gentleman, letting her get out before shutting it. Bringing her to the door, he reached for his keys and unlocked it, glad that the staff was gone for the day. They had actually been gone for the entire week because he hadn't been living here. Closing and locking the door behind them, he just took her hand and started stumbling down the long hallway, leading her through the kitchen, then through the grand room, then to the stairs. Stopping to regain his bearings and to stop swaying, he turned his spinning eyes to her. "Ready?" He certainly was, but he was struggling. He refused to admit that he needed her help though.

Releasing her hand for the time being, he clung to the railing of the grand staircase and started muttering about he needed to install a bloody elevator because these stairs were much too long for his liking at the moment. Finally reaching the landing, he took an immediate left, going to the big double doors at the end of the hallway. Throwing them open, he hurried forward and face planted on his bed, glad to be grounded. Turning himself over, he looked over at her, smiling innocently to her. "Welll?"

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CREDIT TO OH HAI JENNERS ?! OF CAUTION 2.0

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[SCOUT ELAYNA GREY]

theres a thunder in our hearts baby

so much hate for the ones we love

TAG: NIXON OUTFIT: HERE ONE LAST THING: WHEWT

Scout rolled her eyes as Nixon joked about his eyes being dreamy. He was right, of course, but he was also punchdrunk from his concussion. Despite his loopy state, he maintained a level of intensity that was so unique to him, it made her heart flip flop. He returned her kiss and the way he looked at her... she thought she may pass out from lack of oxygen. Everything about him was at top notch at all times, even in the simple way he looked at her, and she was entranced by him perhaps even more powerfully than before their temporary separation.

He hauled himself from the ground with her help, and she led him through the crowd, muscling cameramen out of their way when necessary. She heard him muttering to himself, something about not feeling well, and she sighed inwardly. She had to keep him awake until the swelling on his brain could recede. She'd had all the training in the academy, and she knew the basics of keeping a victim alive on a crime scene. This was no different really other than the fact that Nixon wasn't a victim in the same since she was used to victims, and this wasn't a crime scene. Well, it wouldn't be until her boss saw the pictures all of the paparazzi were taking.

She forced herself not to think about that as he directed her to his car. She couldn't think about her job right now. Nixon and her job were becoming two different worlds, even more than before, and she had to keep them compartmentalized or she would lose control. He muttered that he'd messed up, and she frowned as they reached the car and she gently made him lean against it so she could search for his keys.

"You haven't messed anything up," she argued gently, not looking him in the eyes as she examined him and realized she was going to have to dig into his pocket for the keys. She wouldn't say that he'd messed up in the business world and would very likely be arrested before the year was up. Instead, she ignored that bitter truth and chose to dwell on the immediate. He could never mess up with her, and she would care about him despite his flaws, and probably because of them. Something basic drew her to him, something so essential to their mutual character, and she couldn't deny or avoid it any longer. They were very much alike underneath the layers of experiences and personality, and it honestly frightened her. How close she could be to being a criminal. Which one of them was the true criminal in their situation though? Nixon had hidden things from her, sure, but she had been lying to his face since the moment they met.

Clearing her throat, she hurdled the worrisome thoughts in her head and fixed him with a playfully challenging glare. "Stand still and behave so I can get your keys," she ordered. As she dug into his pocket, she was forced to step closer to him, and her body pressed against his. Because he stubbornly refused to shift his weight to make this easy for her, she glared at him and purposely pressed her hips against his as she dug deeply into his pocket. Even if he was concussed, she knew how to tease him right back, and she smiled victoriously as she removed the keys from his jeans.

"I could go back in, but I don't think you could handle it," she retorted, jingling the keys in his face before turning him and lowering him into the passenger's seat. When she shut the door, she decided to walk around the front of the car to reach the driver's seat. What was the harm in tempting him just a little more? She'd missed their games, and his recent confessions made her feel more free-spirited than she had in weeks. She also happened to know her ass looked marvelous in these shorts, so she offered him a nice show as she pranced around the front of the car and slid into the driver's side.

She smiled when he stated she would miss him too much, and she allowed the car to peel out just to do it. She honestly loved driving powerful cars. The power made her blood rush through her veins. Admittedly, she was drawn to power, power that challenged her especially. Unfortunately, she was about to pay the price for her little stunt: showing off her shapely ass before climbing into the car.

As she shifted expertly, carrying them out of town and toward where he pointed her, the muscles in her tanned, shapely legs rippled delightfully as she shifted gears. There was something inexplicably sexy about driving a stick shift, and she realized Nixon agreed when she caught him watching her thirstily out of the corner of her eye. Stopping at a red light, she glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow questioningly. He didn't give himself away, but benignly directed her through the spotlight and toward the west. Pressing the gas, she didn't notice him advancing toward her until his hot fingertips seared her skin, easily sliding around the smooth mound of her thigh. She gasped involuntarily as his hand slipped beneath the hem of her short shorts. His voice, suddenly clear and demanding, ordered her to drive faster, and she couldn't resist smiling to herself.

She wouldn't, couldn't, deny that she wanted him. She thought about him every night, and it wasn't all pure thoughts. He was the only man who'd ever satisfied her so completely sexually; how could she ever get that out of her mind? It wasn't the only thing that attracted her to him (his powerful presence and gentlemanly side being just a couple of his desirable attributes), but the way she thirsted for him physically drove her insane. She'd never been incapable of controlling her sexual urges until it came to Nixon, and then she was like a cat in heat.

Honestly, it was embarrassing.

She believed she would be safe to suffer in lustful silence a bit longer, but he didn't relent. Speeding up did nothing to abate him, and he reached the button on her jean shorts, easily undoing them with a skill unexpected out of a man who was half-crazed with a concussion. Her breathing quickened, and she unintentionally pressed heavily on the gas pedal, causing the car to jerk into motion down the road. He teased her until she was breathless and whined with desire, and then they arrived at the front gate to his mansion. Her head reeled from his ministrations, and she pressed herself back into the seat as he leaned over her to reach the keypad. Her blue eyes watched him intently, and she instinctively leaned forward, her tongue licking him beneath his ear. All of this, being so caught up in him as she was, led to her missing the numbers he punched into the pad. If she'd been doing her job, she would have been paying attention, but Nixon filled her mind. She'd been away from him for too long.

However, she instantly noticed his fatigue as he sat back in the seat, and her worry for him resurfaced. She parked the car, but didn't get a chance to mention his condition before he leapt out and ran around to open her door. She appreciated the gentlemanly gesture, but her worry compounded as she noticed the pallor of his skin. He smiled through it, that roguish smile accompanied by a mischievous glint in his gray eyes, but she knew he couldn't be feeling well. If she was to convince herself or Nixon that she truly cared about him, she had to worry about his condition over her lust for him.

"Nixon..." she began, but he cut her off as he shut the door behind them and grabbed her hand, leading her through the empty hallways. She had buttoned her shorts before he'd escorted her out of the car, but now she found they were alone. That did horrible things for the purity of her thoughts, but she couldn't go there. She had to assure herself he was okay first.

The house took her breath away as he led her through corridors and more rooms than she could imagine existed in one house. She'd never seen such opulence in a place, not even in the condo where he'd taken her that first night, and she instinctively knew this wasn't just one of his many properties. This was his home.

Her heart leapt excitedly at the thought - he trusted her enough to bring her to his actual house - and she bit her bottom lip as they paused at the base of the expansive staircase. That was when he offered her an uninhibited view of how dire his situation was. He swayed on his feet, and she reached for him, afraid he might fall. He asked her coyly if she was ready, but she only smiled sadly. He didn't really want an answer anyway, she knew, and he confirmed as much by turning and pressing up the staircase, complaining the whole time how there were far too many stairs for his English ass to climb at one time.

While he griped about the lack of an elevator, her inquisitive mind explored the foyer. It was brilliantly lit, and the sheer beauty of it amazed her. Speechless, she barely noticed as he darted into the double doors at the end of the hall. Realizing a moment too late that he'd deserted her, she sped after him, rounding the door frame just as he faceplanted on the bed.

Panic washed over her, and she rushed into the room, but he turned over as she reached the side of the bed, smiling coyly at her. She snorted amusedly and shook her head at him as he plied her for more of what he'd teased in the car. Running her fingers under the hem of her shorts, she bit her bottom lip and smiled at him. "You look like you're about to pass out," she pointed out, pulling her knee up onto the bed so she was closer to him. Her heart beat rapidly, rising into her throat with excitement. "It's probably not wise for you to have sex right now, and if I get close to you..." she trailed off, sitting on her heels on the bed, facing him. "...that's going to happen."

tell me that we both matter dont we

TEMPLATE BY: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY ! @ CAUTION.

[nixon mason grey]

you took the time to memorize me

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If anyone told him that he would be with Scout by the end of this day, he would have told them that they were insane. But so deep was his need for her that he couldn't quench that thirst even by being in her presence now. When she pressed her hips against his in an attempt to tease him when he wasn't allowing her easy access to his keys, he did all that he could to stifle the groan of want that traveled to his lips from the deepest parts of his stomach. His desire, his lust...they were both growing steadily and he was becoming aroused by her simple administrations now. Even as she reached into his pants and he adjusted his hips so that her fingers brushed his ever hardening member, and he all but lost it as she gave him a glare, telling him that he couldn't handle it if she reached back in. He fixed her with a challenging look, one that was still slightly cloudy from his accident, but still quite clear when it came to understanding his intentions. "I think you mean that you won't be able to handle it if you reached back in." He said, his British accent causing a natural slur to his words, or so he hoped it sounded that way.

As she turned him, he huffed in defeat, allowing her to sit him in the passenger seat. "I can drive, ya know." That was a joke if he had ever told one, for his eyes were basically crossed from the dizziness that accompanied the egg sized lump on the back of his head. But he settled into the seat obediently, not bothering with a seat belt because he was never one to follow the law anyway. His gray eyes were awarded with the view of Scout's rather shapely ass traveling across his view, in front of his car. His jaw parted slightly as he imagined what he could do to her fine body, but he was forced to regain his composure as she opened the door and got in. Looking away from her, he tried to act as if he hadn't just seen her little ruse, but it was quite obvious that he had from the bulge in his pants. Normally he would have been in his right mind to try to have some decency and hide his reaction, but his concussed stated didn't allow him to function his thoughts in that way.

So here he was, sitting in the passenger seat of his Mercedes, with a hard on.

The notorious Nixon Grey had been turned on by the simple act of having a good looking woman walk across his view. This was a sad, sad day indeed, but it only proved how deeply she affected him in more ways than one. Not only had this woman gotten him to honestly admit that he needed her, wanted her, but she was doing things to him physically that no other woman had been able to do. She drove him crazy and he felt his blood running like fire through his veins. Doing all that he could to control his breathing, he prayed she thought it would be from his concussion, but unluckily for him, he wasn't dealing with some other blonde bimbo. Needless to say, Nixon would be properly embarrassed and rather irritated if he had any idea of what was going on at this very moment in time. But he wasn't given much time to dwell on his thoughts, for she was firing up the car and peeling out of the parking lot. He fussed then, making it seem as if she had just done something horrible.

"Hey lady. This is not a freight train. You have to drive her with finesse. Not a lead foot. The nerve."

He stated, trying to sound as serious as he possibly could, but failing miserably. And then he had managed to regain some sense of dignity, and that was when he was able to pleasure Scout. Of course he wanted to keep her on the edge, wanted her to want and need more from him. He still remembered what his simple touch did to her, and he had to get her back for her little show in front of his windshield. He couldn't let her win, although it was quite clear that she was the victor in this situation because of the tent his pants now possessed. He still really had no idea because he was entirely focused on what he was doing to her in that moment. He could see her fighting with herself, and at the last moment, he leaned forward, his teeth nipping gently at the skin on her neck, kissing up her jawline as she pulled up to the front of his main property. Once he leaned across her to enter his code, he was suddenly aware of her lips behind his ear, and it was then that she discovered one of the places that only served to drive him crazy.

A small groan of sexual frustration left his lips, causing his pale face to flame red out of embarrassment. His moment of weakness was something that he didn't want displayed, but it was obvious that she was doing things to him. Her touch was lighting him on fire, and that was why he couldn't wait until they got to his bedroom.

Once there, Nixon was fully expecting her to be on top of him in a second, but she refused him. He was in shock, really. His grey eyes traveled up to search her face, and it was then that he could read the worry there. Furrowing his brow, he watched her study him, knowing that she would see his pale cheeks, would see that his eyes couldn't truly focus in front of him. His head was splitting but he was doing a grand job of ignoring it, simply because he could focus on pleasuring her. He could sleep after they had sex, for it was something that they both really needed. When she stated that he looked like he was about to pass out, he managed to look as offended as he possibly could. "Listen, sweetheart. I'll make a deal with you, okay?" He said, pausing for added effect. His pause was when she got her two cents in, for he was allowed to look over at her as she sat upon his king sized bed, announcing that she wouldn't be able to stop herself from having sex with him if she got close to him. A wicked smile appeared on his features at that moment, and he managed to shimmy himself upwards, kicking off his shoes as he went along. Soon enough he was in the middle of his massive bed, his legs and arms spread out on all sides.

Looking to her, he let his fingers slide to the zipper of his black jacket, managing to shrug himself clumsily out of the contraption and throw it to the floor. In another instant he had his navy tee shirt joining the fray on the ground and he lay there in his shirtless glory, his chiseled torso available for her to see. "I'm all yours. I can always find it in me to have sex, let me assure you." He told her devilishly, knowing that he was talking about a deal only moments before now.

Taking a deep breath, he exhaled softly and looked to her expectantly. "The deal is, you're in charge! So you better make it good. Because honestly, I don't think you have it in you." He challenged her, watching her with excitement and lust visible in his grey eyes. He was egging her on, taunting her, knowing that he was going to get what they both so desperately wanted. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her, that much was apparent. Besides, he could handle his concussion while he was laying down, so if they just kept it like this, they wouldn't have any problems.

"I'm waiting Scout."

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CREDIT TO OH HAI JENNERS ?! OF CAUTION 2.0

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[SCOUT ELAYNA GREY]

theres a thunder in our hearts baby

so much hate for the ones we love

TAG: NIXON OUTFIT: HERE ONE LAST THING: WHEWT

The way he chided her for driving his car made her chuckle amusedly, but she ignored him. A car like this was designed to be driven hard, and how often did a girl get the opportunity to operate such a fine vehicle anyway? She knew it wouldn't happen again unless he was once more on the verge of passing out, so she took full advantage of the situation. She could wring his neck for teasing her the way he did on the way to the house, but she got pleasure out of teasing him as badly as he leaned over her. That was the deal; she didn't sit back and allow him to toy with her unless she got to do the same to him.

She slid onto the bed as he confessed he'd make a deal with her, but she admitted that she couldn't get close to him without wanting him. It wasn't wise, she just knew it, and the thought of something happening to him chilled her to the bone. She couldn't put words to her irrational fear for his safety; or maybe she could and just didn't want to right now. Unfortunately, she never should have admitted her desire for him because he used it to his advantage.

With more grace than she expected, he undid his jacket and threw it to the floor, followed closely by his tee shirt. Instinctively, protectively, she reached to help him remove the shirt but he didn't need her help. Instead, she found herself incidentally closer to him and she chided herself. She was doing this to herself. She needed to keep him awake so the concussion didn't do anymore damage to him, but she wasn't sure sex was the way to do it. She felt like some perverted monster because of the thoughts she was having at seeing his bare, chiseled chest. Ever since they'd first slept together, she'd been incapable of finding satisfaction out of the sight of any other man. She was so completely satiated by Nixon that she wasn't interested in anyone else.

She'd had a chance with one of her colleagues, a man assigned to help her with her case, and she'd honestly tried to go out to coffee with the guy. But she was constantly comparing him to Nixon, against her own will, and he paled in comparison. Sure, he was an attractive guy, but he didn't have that fire. She'd kept it hidden deep down for most of her life, but she harbored that same wild flame, and Nixon was her match. She could deny him for reasons belonging to the sanctity of her mind, hoping to preserve herself from the eternal fire that would set her life ablaze if she continued with him now, but she knew she would never deny him. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, and all of her willpower wasn't enough to save her from that.

His British accent assured her he was always healthy enough to have sex, and she raised her eyebrows challengingly. "Is that so? So you've got the energy for just anyone?" she asked, testing him. She wasn't a jealous type, but she liked picking at him. Plus, she liked hearing him admit he wanted her, since he'd started the habit just today. She'd inexplicably migrated toward him until their thighs brushed, and she brushed her blond hair behind her ear to look down into his gray eyes, the pupils shrunken slightly from before. Impulsively, she reached over and ran her fingertips over his forehead and down his stubbly check, her thumb outlining his cheekbone as he spoke once more.

He challenged her, just as she'd challenged him, professing she didn't have it in her to be in charge. Her eyebrows raised as the dare rang in her ears. Leaning over him, she got close enough to kiss him but stopped, keeping her lips just a breath away from his, staring defiantly into his gray eyes. "You've been away too long," she whispered demurely. Keeping her head close to his, she shifted her weight and watched her hand as it left his face, running down his neck and onto his bare chest. She met his gaze as her hand continued its trek across the board-like terrain, reaching the hem of his jeans. Tilting her head, she smiled innocently at him as her fingers slid beneath the fabric and teased him. She could see him react as she touched him, and it sent a warm flush of pleasure through her to see him so obviously affected by her actions.

She'd always believed she was the one so powerfully subjected by her desire for him, but she wasn't alone this time. He was much better at hiding his true feelings when he was sober. Now, his mind wasn't under his control the way it had been before, and she saw it in his eyes as she pushed him until he almost gave up and then quit. Smiling, satisfied with herself, she twisted her body so her hips were against his side and she rested on her stomach against him. She wasn't on top of him as she was sure he would have preferred, but she wanted to play first. She didn't want the first time after being apart for so long to be some cheap show.

Her lips touched his chest first, traveling up his neck to that delicate place behind his ear. She smiled as he reacted, then moved to his rough cheek. Her heart beat so rapidly, she knew he could feel it through her shirt since her chest rested against his arm. Her hand reached for his face, and she turned him to look at her as she roughly claimed his lips. She gasped against his mouth as the simple touch of his kiss took her breath away. Her head reeled with the sheer power of emotions that raced through her veins, and her throat felt as if it was on fire as she kissed him harder, desperately.

"Nixon..." she whispered frantically, losing her control now that she'd kissed him. If she'd been resolved to stay away from sex before now, it was now hopeless. Pulling away from his mouth, she looked at him through her wide, desirous eyes. "I've needed you so much..." Then she kissed him again and was lost.

tell me that we both matter dont we

TEMPLATE BY: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY ! @ CAUTION.

[nixon mason grey]

you took the time to memorize me

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He was on fire. She had barely touched him and he could feel his heart beat skipping from the ignition of the fire in his veins. As he lay in the middle of his bed, he heard her teasing words, asking if he would have sex with just anyone. His dilated grey eyes found her blue gaze and he gave her a charming smile. "Love, if it were anyone else, I would have passed out ten minutes ago." Being who he was, he felt like he couldn't tell her outright that he was only turned on for her. He was only responding the way that he was because she was who she was. No other woman had ever made him feel this way and while it petrified him, it thrilled him in more ways than one. And that adrenaline that he got just from being in her presence was enough to quell any fears that managed to work their way into the pit of his stomach. He wouldn't think about how much this terrified him because right now, he was so completely enamored by her that nothing else mattered.

As she moved closer to him, he felt her thighs touch his, rubbing against him teasingly. That was the thing with them. Everything that they did, every touch, every word so far had been to tease. It was a game when it came to their sexual relations and that game was what turned each of them on so much. The act of giving just enough pleasure before pulling back before your partner was fulfilled kept them thirsting for more, and her simple, light touches had more of an affect on him than any thing else could. Nothing about Nixon Grey was gentle. Even when he had brought home other women to his town houses, he was never gentle. Everything was rough and hard and fast. He wasn't used to them being soft with him, and he certainly wasn't going to be soft with them. The moment that he had shared with Scout in the shower only a weak before was the first time that Nixon had ever been gentle with anyone. When they had gone to bed after leaving the shower, that was the first time that Nixon had ever made love to someone. Everything was just so powered by his intensity that he didn't know how to slow down.

But with her, he knew that he would be more fulfilled if he kept it slow with her. While things grew feverish, neither of them was pushing for anything physically. Sure, he was asking her vocally, but she didn't relent and he was glad that she didn't. It would make things that much sweeter when they finally had their reunion. Inhaling deeply as she softly trailed her finger along his feverish forehead, he closed his eyes for an instant, relishing in the coolness of her skin. Yet where she trailed, there was a fiery, spiking sensation and he knew that it wasn't just from the ill state that he was in. She was doing things to him all over again and he didn't know how much longer he could keep himself together. Letting out a breathy sigh because of the air he had just taken into his chest, he relaxed visibly beneath her ministrations, just wanting her to touch him in any way. When she ran her hands down his neck, down his chest, he was suddenly aware of her attention under his waistline. As her hand closed around him, he inhaled sharply, his back arching up off of the bed for a moment in his response.

His lips parted slightly to release his fevered breathing as she worked him into a release. But that release never came. He was left hanging as he had left her hanging in the car, and while it was obvious he deserved it, it was also obvious that he wasn't pleased with her decision. His grey eyes opened quickly, his pupils wide from not only his concussion, but because of his lust and desire as well. "Don't..." He wanted to tell her not to stop but he also didn't want to seem desperate. Clicking his mouth shut so that she would not be witness to another weakness, he inwardly cursed himself. He was weak and vulnerable because of this head injury and his inner intense self hated it. He wasn't ever the victim. He wasn't ever the one who couldn't take control. And the fact that he had not only dared her to be the one in charge, but also kind of wanted her to be in charge, absolutely floored the resting beast deep within him.

She was resting against him on her side and while he wanted to change her position, he didn't have the strength to do such a thing. So dizzy was he that he couldn't even lift his head to gaze over at her, which might have been a good thing at this moment. He was too confused to really figure out what he was feeling, but as her lips graced his chest, he sucked in another breath. She didn't stop until she had reached the sweet spot behind his ear, and he turned his face to the side to allow her greater access. Closing his eyes tightly, he felt his hands tighten around the comforter that decorated his mattress, wanting more but not getting it from her. Resisting the urge to growl his displeasure from her lack of ministrations, he tried to relax. Wasn't he just thinking to himself about how much he appreciated the slowness of their shared moment? He needed to remember that. Battling with himself now, he was aware of her lips on his.

His breath gasped with hers as she took his breath away, and he kissed her back hard, deliriously. Could she not tell how much he needed her from his intense kissing? He needed her, that much was obvious. When she finally pulled away, letting him breathe, his wild eyes found hers and he heard her admittance. She needed him. That alone scared him, but it pleased him to no end. He had never been needed in this way before, and never so desperately. Looking at her, he moved himself slowly, carefully, trying to be mindful of his dizzy head. Resting over her now, he slowly started moving her shirt up her torso, pulling it gently over her head, needing to at least see her. "Scout." He whispered fervently, managing to skillfully lift her bra from her body as well. Admiring the view now, he finished, pulling her short shorts down from her waist, throwing them to the floor to join his clothes. Her panties were the only thing that kept them apart, and he disposed of those as well. Unclothing her was done in such a rush manner, and he knew that he needed to slow down before he lost control.

"Scout, I..." His words came short and fast, mirroring his breath as well. "Please." He whispered, being the one to beg her for a change of pace. And then he couldn't control himself any longer. He sank into her, slowly, softly, gently, losing himself finally.

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CREDIT TO OH HAI JENNERS ?! OF CAUTION 2.0

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[SCOUT ELAYNA GREY]

theres a thunder in our hearts baby

so much hate for the ones we love

TAG: NIXON OUTFIT: HERE ONE LAST THING: SEXY TIME

Even when it was slow between them, it was fast. Her heart beat fast as he slowly kissed her. Her head spun too fast as he maneuvered himself slowly over her. The wave of heat radiating from her waist throughout her body moved so fast as he slowly removed her shorts. She lay naked beneath him, his chest resting on her lower stomach since he was still too dizzy and weak to really hold himself above her, and she watched him, her eyes wide as he looked up at her and whispered her name. Her emotions played out in her eyes even as she said nothing, a movie of her shifting fears and doubts and desires. She had felt the frantic response to her kisses, his dire need to feel her and to take from her.

Silently, she watched him as he removed her shorts and sat up enough to remove his own clothes, disposing of them with the other garments. Her lacy underwear rested on her hips, but he easily withdrew them as she watched him. Her gaze was neither calculating or challenging; she'd lost her will to defy him. Their push and pull exhausted and excited her, and as she saw him look down at her, his fingers touching her sides ever so lightly as he leaned forward, she lost herself in his gray eyes. He said her name once while he'd disrobed her, and he said it again now, so softly and ardently, her hands instinctively reached for him. Her fingers dug gently into his forearms as he breathed her name, and she shook her head slightly.

"I already know..." she mumbled earnestly. He couldn't ask her to have him, she knew. She wondered if she should be angry, but she wasn't. That was simply part of Nixon Grey. He hadn't spent his life asking for things. Instead, he got them, or he demanded for them. But with her, she knew he was different. She saw it in his eyes, had felt it that first night they'd spent together. He wasn't accustomed to asking, but he wanted to ask her. He wanted her to want him as equally as he wanted her; it wasn't something he wanted to force. He wanted to earn her desire for him, and he had.

When he whispered his request to her, she released her breath in a desirous sigh. No words needed to be spoken as her hands slid up his arms and wrapped around his neck, pulling him toward her. He moved instinctively downward, reading her mind as only he could. They were one mind when they connected like this, and she marveled at how perfectly he anticipated what she wanted. Her voice moaned out her surprise and relief at feeling him again, and her back arched, lifting her stomach so she was pressed against him. Words could never adequately describe what she felt when she was with Nixon in this way. No writer in the history of mankind could pen a sufficient description of her heightened emotions, the burning of her nerves as he touched her, the waves of pleasure he sent through her body. Being with Nixon made her feel something other than human, some next level of existence. She floated on air and grew dizzy from the height as he took her up and brought her back down again.

Pushing him back, her legs wrapped around him, she forced him to sit as she sat on top of him. Opening her eyes, she gazed heatedly down at him and kissed him hard on his mouth. Parts of their encounters were gentle, but other parts demanded roughness. Knowing when to change the dance was the most important key of all. Their current position relegated command to her, and she ran her fingers through his sandy blond hair as she took control. She felt the resistance of his body, and she smiled as she kissed him again, giving him what he wanted most.

If anything between Scout Shepherd and Nixon Grey could b3e pure, this would be it. They purely understood one another and melded into one unit, one body and one soul. It paralyzed her to know a man, one person, could know her so completely the way he did, but it thrilled her just as equally. Her golden hair fell away from her face as she involuntarily tossed her head back and purred in pleasure.

It was all over too soon, and she sank into the bed with a content sigh, her fingers still wrapped in his hair as she looked into his gray eyes. She imagined how horribly he must be feeling, and her brow furrowed slightly with worry for him. She hadn't forgotten his condition, but she hadn't been able to resist his fervent pleas to have her. Pressing her face into the crook of his neck, she breathed in the scent of him - an intoxicating mixture of sweat, Armani, and cologne that never left his skin - pleased with his closeness. "Please tell me you're okay," she pleaded quietly. Concern wrinkled her face as she touched his forehead and felt his feverish skin. She was hot as well, but she feared his condition was different from her own. "Nixon... if I've made it worse..." she trailed off, her eyes hardening with self-blame before softening as he made eye contact with her. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself," she admitted, burying her face in his neck again.

tell me that we both matter dont we

TEMPLATE BY: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY ! @ CAUTION.

[nixon mason grey]

you took the time to memorize me

[style=width: 150px; height: 100px; background-color: 922e35; text-align: justify; padding: 8 8 8 8px; line-height: 100%; color: 000000; font-family: arial; center; padding: 10 10 10 10px; overflow: auto; border: 5px solid #ffffff;] TAGGED: OPEN or SCOUT WORDS: OUTFIT: Blue Jeans, Navy Tee-Shirt, Baseball Cap NOTES: I needed to post him

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Nothing else mattered to him at this very moment. He was with the woman that his heart was slowly thawing for, he was with the woman that made him feel things that he had never felt before. He forced himself to push his fears and his reservations aside. For some reason, he felt that she would take care of him. Now, Nixon was no an individual who allowed himself to be doted on by anyone other than himself. His trust was something so sheltered, it was something so rare, that he refused to allow anyone that close to him. But for some reason the idea of her taking care of him, of her taking control of this situation was something that he so desperately desired that he didn't even know how to voice that want. He knew that she would be able to read it in his expression because she knew how to read it. That was evident from their first night that they had shared together and he knew that it would happen again. Somehow, some way, Scout knew him inside and out, and he knew her inside out. It was something that he couldn't explain, that he couldn't elaborate on, but it was there.

Of course, the two of them had secrets. Everyone had their secrets. The difference was, his secret was not a betrayal to her. In every other aspect of his life he had been honest. She had not, but that was not something that was clear to him. He trusted her. He almost trusted her blindly, and it was something that was going to nearly end him. However, that lack of knowledge on his part was what made their relationship as intense as it was. His naivety was something that was igniting the flame, it was making him desire her more than he had ever desired any other woman. He didn't want this to stop. He didn't want to ever be without her and that need was something that frightened him to his very core. However, the moment that they were sharing now made him forget completely. Relaxing into her now, he filled her familiarly, closing his eyes as he gave them both what they had been yearning for for the past week that they had been apart. His breath came out shakily now, his lips parted slightly from the sensations that were washing over him. His body tensed involuntarily, his sensitivity peaking as her hands reached for his arms.

Finally opening his deep grey eyes, he turned them to look into hers, his own filled with the completion that he felt from simply being with her in this fashion. A breathy gasp left his mouth as he readjusted himself, moving with her as if they had been partners all along. He couldn't believe how close he already was to finishing, and that alone sent him spinning. His concussion, his physical state of being was put behind him for the time being, and he forgot all of the pain that he was experiencing as he lost himself in the pleasure that she created for him. Leaning down now, he found her lips with his, hungrily, kissing her softly at first before deepening it, letting his tongue slide through her lips and brushed across her teeth before she allow him entry. His tongue met hers in an instant and he lost himself yet again. A yearning moan reverberated through their joined mouths from his end, needing even more than what he was receiving now.

However, he was suddenly being pushed back, her hand softly on his chest. Breaking the kiss grudgingly, he furrowed his brow as she pushed him upwards, causing him to sit back on his knees, which was a position that he didn't usually find himself in. Watching her with question in his eyes, he brought his hot fingers to her skin, bracing himself on her hips as she followed him upwards, suddenly sitting over him, resting on his lap. Understanding filled his features as she sank down over him, taking control before he had time to even think of what was happening to him. Feeling as if he was spinning in circles, his breath escaped him quickly, hitching as she moved over him. He let his own hips in the gentle rhythm that she created for them, her lips suddenly crashing into his in a desirous kiss. He hadn't been expecting that, but the surprise only managed to turn him on more. He returned it quickly, just as intense as she, wanting only more from her. As she broke away from him, he sighed, feeling himself building until he was unsure if he could hold himself together.

Leaning forward slightly, his sweat covered forehead slowly met her shoulder, resting there as she worked him up into a frenzy that he never thought he'd escape from. Sucking in another gasp, he felt her impending release, and his own came nearly at the same time as hers. Satiated, complete, and content, he remained in the position that he was in until she gently guided him to lay down on the bed. Feeling as if he was filling with ice, but still as flushed as ever, he pulled them up to the top of the bed, his chilled fingers grasping for the comforter. Moving it easily, skillfully, even though they were on top of it, he quickly climbed beneath the sheets, pulling the blankets over the both of them without much delay.

His teeth chattered slightly from the experience she had just given him, as well as from the coolness of the sheets. Closing his eyes now, he felt her rest against him, her face hiding in the crook of his neck as he encircled her in his strong arms. Wanting to touch her, to hold her, he felt like he couldn't get enough of her. Keeping her up against him, he only opened his eyes when he heard her asking him if he was alright, if she had things words. Although his head was splitting, this was exactly what he had needed. Turning exhausted, yet pleasured eyes onto her, he offered her a quiet, tired smile. "Everything's fine, Scout." He assured her, not wanting her to worry. He just needed to sleep. He wanted to sleep. With her in his arms he knew that nothing was going to happen to him. He snuggled closer to her now, getting more comfortable, feeling her worry. Knowing suddenly that she was probably not convinced, he turned to look at her once more. "I'm okay Scout. Better than okay. Just relax, alright?" He requested of her, leaning into to gently brush his lips across her forehead. Relaxing once more, his slurred speech was from the euphoria he was still experiencing as well as from the incident earlier in the day. But he needed to sleep. He wanted to sleep with her by his side. He needed her.

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CREDIT TO OH HAI JENNERS ?! OF CAUTION 2.0

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