Post by SCOUT ELAYNA GREY on Nov 4, 2012 17:18:33 GMT -5
theres a thunder in our hearts baby
so much hate for the ones we love
TAG: NIXON OUTFIT: HERE ONE LAST THING: WELL THIS POST SUCKED MORE THAN I ANTICIPATED. UGH. I APOLOGIZE.
She lay there, entwined with him, remembering the way he'd moaned into her lips, the way he felt within her. The strange beauty of the two of them amazed her with all of its unlikelihood and confusion. One moment she was so confused by her feelings for him and her feelings for her that she couldn't see straight and wanted to tear out her hair, and the next moment she knew what was between them was so right she didn't know how she'd ever lived without it. Knowing there was a time in her life when she hadn't known of this sort of completeness made her sad for her former self.
Nixon's remaining strength amazed her, and that was from where her worry stemmed. As she buried her face in his neck, she felt the clamminess of his skin, and her chest swelled with fear. She'd gone too far in her inability to resist him. She should have stuck with her tactic to refuse him. Instead, she had given in to her basic desires and had probably hurt him even more. She squeezed her eyes shut as that cold wave of post-sex realism set in, and she thought she might cry. However, she was strong enough to hold back because she knew he wouldn't understand why she was upset. When she opened her eyes, he turned to look at her, and the pleased exhaustion in his eyes told her more than even his words could.
His pupils were no longer dilated from the concussion although his brow furrowed as it attempted to run away from the headache there. Her hand impulsively went to his face, her smooth palm sliding over the stubble on his cheek. He assured her he was fine, but she couldn't fully remove her guilt even as he pulled her closer to him through the bed. He sensed her unease almost immediately and spoke to her again as if he'd read her mind. His lips graced her forehead, and she sighed shakily. She was tired from their recent activities, and she just wanted to sleep. Seeing he seemed to no longer have a concussion, she buried herself into his side with her arm draped over his chest, feeling him warm at her touch.
"Promise me you'll wake up right here beside me," she whispered softly, her lips touching his skin on his chest, her hot breath seeming to steam as it raced over the surface of his chest. Hugging herself to him, she kissed him gently on his chest and snuggled her head into him, finding herself drowsy. Soon enough, she was asleep without a care in the world, her head filled with dreams of Nixon Grey.
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An irritating buzzing sound droned into her head, bringing her slowly out of sleep. Laying on her left side with her blond hair spilled out on the pillow beneath her head, she opened her eyes, groaning to herself at the bright sunlight shining in through the windows. Her head rested on Nixon's forearm while his other arm rested over her waist. She couldn't tell how long she'd been asleep. Yawning, she sat up and leaned over the side of the bed, finding her jean shorts and pulling her buzzing cellphone from the pocket.
Covering her mouth as she yawned again, she lay back against Nixon as she lazily pressed the power button to check the time.
"Holy shit!" she exclaimed, leaping up from the bed so quickly she took half of the blankets with her and almost fell on her face as she tumbled out of the bed. Thankfully, she caught herself and hastily picked up her clothes from the floor. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," she cursed over and over, running her fingers through her messy hair as she jumped into her shorts and jumped around on one foot as she pulled them on over her hips. Finding her bra, she hastily snapped it around her and turned her shirt right side out, pulling it on over her head so fast she bent her ear back and yelped in frustration and pain.
Realizing she'd woken Nixon with her charade, she cringed inwardly and wished she'd been quieter. Quickly, she hoisted herself onto the bed and leaned over him, smiling a quick smile as she kissed him lightly on the lips. "I have to go. I'll see you later?" she asked, sliding off the bed and searching desperately for her second shoe and her purse.
Nixon's remaining strength amazed her, and that was from where her worry stemmed. As she buried her face in his neck, she felt the clamminess of his skin, and her chest swelled with fear. She'd gone too far in her inability to resist him. She should have stuck with her tactic to refuse him. Instead, she had given in to her basic desires and had probably hurt him even more. She squeezed her eyes shut as that cold wave of post-sex realism set in, and she thought she might cry. However, she was strong enough to hold back because she knew he wouldn't understand why she was upset. When she opened her eyes, he turned to look at her, and the pleased exhaustion in his eyes told her more than even his words could.
His pupils were no longer dilated from the concussion although his brow furrowed as it attempted to run away from the headache there. Her hand impulsively went to his face, her smooth palm sliding over the stubble on his cheek. He assured her he was fine, but she couldn't fully remove her guilt even as he pulled her closer to him through the bed. He sensed her unease almost immediately and spoke to her again as if he'd read her mind. His lips graced her forehead, and she sighed shakily. She was tired from their recent activities, and she just wanted to sleep. Seeing he seemed to no longer have a concussion, she buried herself into his side with her arm draped over his chest, feeling him warm at her touch.
"Promise me you'll wake up right here beside me," she whispered softly, her lips touching his skin on his chest, her hot breath seeming to steam as it raced over the surface of his chest. Hugging herself to him, she kissed him gently on his chest and snuggled her head into him, finding herself drowsy. Soon enough, she was asleep without a care in the world, her head filled with dreams of Nixon Grey.
-------------------------------------------
An irritating buzzing sound droned into her head, bringing her slowly out of sleep. Laying on her left side with her blond hair spilled out on the pillow beneath her head, she opened her eyes, groaning to herself at the bright sunlight shining in through the windows. Her head rested on Nixon's forearm while his other arm rested over her waist. She couldn't tell how long she'd been asleep. Yawning, she sat up and leaned over the side of the bed, finding her jean shorts and pulling her buzzing cellphone from the pocket.
Covering her mouth as she yawned again, she lay back against Nixon as she lazily pressed the power button to check the time.
"Holy shit!" she exclaimed, leaping up from the bed so quickly she took half of the blankets with her and almost fell on her face as she tumbled out of the bed. Thankfully, she caught herself and hastily picked up her clothes from the floor. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," she cursed over and over, running her fingers through her messy hair as she jumped into her shorts and jumped around on one foot as she pulled them on over her hips. Finding her bra, she hastily snapped it around her and turned her shirt right side out, pulling it on over her head so fast she bent her ear back and yelped in frustration and pain.
Realizing she'd woken Nixon with her charade, she cringed inwardly and wished she'd been quieter. Quickly, she hoisted herself onto the bed and leaned over him, smiling a quick smile as she kissed him lightly on the lips. "I have to go. I'll see you later?" she asked, sliding off the bed and searching desperately for her second shoe and her purse.
tell me that we both matter dont we