[[ lexington, kentucky ]]

[itwasjustified]

[ "how do you feel about wings?" ]

Raylan wipes the last of the grease from his fingers and crumples the paper napkin.

With a lazy toss, he nails the nearby wastebasket.

He reaches for his glass of sweet iced tea, and his eyes slide from what's left of their dinner to Reese.

"Got a verdict yet?"

Comments

[notenlightened]

She can't control the sigh that slips past, and a part of her isn't even embarrassed about it.

A lazy smile graces her lips, and she tilts her head to glance down her shoulder at him.

"Now you're just teasing."

[itwasjustified]

He lifts his head the fraction he needs to meet her eyes. She probably can't see his smirk, but she might feel it before he nips at her hip.

One hand slides between her legs, cupping her through her pants, giving her pressure and friction with his palm and its heel, but no real relief.

[notenlightened]

She does - the slight shift of his lips against her skin is a clear indication that he's pretty damn amused right about now, and it's only somewhat frustrating in the sense that, at the moment, Dani Reese is more impatient than usual.

"I changed my mind," she replies, hips jutting up with a mind of their own.

"Now - now you're teasing."

[itwasjustified]

"Yes, ma'am," he says, managing to sound entirely contrite-but-not.

His actions speak louder than those words; he eases her pants down her hips, his mouth following in their wake, until he's kissing the crease of her thigh while one thumb slips inside her underwear, seeking out her clit.

[notenlightened]

"You Southerners," she shoots back, the tease swiftly followed by a gasp when his mouth descends to the inside of her thigh. Her fingertips run through his hair, effectively tousling it in answer.

"Always so polite."

[itwasjustified]

"Kentucky," he says, his drawl low and lazy as his lips move closer and closer to the fabric of her panties, "was neutral durin' the Civil War."

His thumb finds her clit beneath her underwear; he circles it lightly, placing an open-mouthed kiss on her stomach.

[notenlightened]

"Do you really think," she says, her head lazily lolling to one side, "that this is the right time for a history lesson?"

She draws her lower lip in with her teeth, hissing softly when his lips find a ticklish spot near her hipbone.

[itwasjustified]

"Point taken."

Her underwear falls somewhere near the haphazard pile of discarded clothes on the floor, and Raylan dips his head once more.

Breathing her in, his focus funnels; he tongues her in featherlight flicks, first, and eases a finger inside her.

[notenlightened]

A stream of choice words threaten to erupt from her throat, but sinking her teeth into her lower lip curbs the temptation.

Her toes curl slightly, though, and what she lacks in curses she makes up for in soft, surprised sounds.

[itwasjustified]

As his hips press into the mattress of their own accord, he wonders if she has any idea what those sounds do to a man. She has to, surely.

He shifts his weight, and a second finger joins the first. His free hand makes a slow run down and up one of her thighs, committing to muscle memory how soft her skin is under his palm.

[notenlightened]

Soft isn't a word most would use to describe Reese - not in the majority of contexts, at least.

Except for here, when his touch provokes an overwhelming sensation that spirals out from her center, out to the tips of her fingers and toes, and her hand seizes a grip in the longer strands of his hair.

"Raylan," she breathes.

[itwasjustified]

This is the least guarded he's seen her; she's letting him in, literally and figuratively, and he intends to make damn sure he earns the privilege.

His hand travels to her hip, tightening there to pull her even closer, and the pressure of his mouth and tongue increases second by second.

[notenlightened]

In Reese's mind, this is where the true danger lies - of letting someone in, of showing anything close to vulnerability. There's a danger in that weakness.

But now, she can't be bothered to care, as the sensations reach their critical peak and his fingers push (nudge) her into the point of no return.

[itwasjustified]

He encourages her, his mouth and fingers riding out her orgasm, and he doesn't lift his head until she's spent.

Only then does he turn to kiss the inside of her thigh, punctuating the gesture with a careful nip and half a smile.

[notenlightened]

Once her breathing steadies, she looks to him with a near-identical expression, fingers combing his hair back and away from his brow.

"You might have to get used to the idea of payback," Reese tells him.

[itwasjustified]

"Considerin' the context — "

His eyes close when she reaches a particularly sensitive spot on his scalp.

"I think that's a bandwagon I could hop on."

[notenlightened]

Her grip tightens and she tugs, just enough to border on playful.

"Good. Because I'm far from done."

[itwasjustified]

He grunts, the sound low and deep in his chest.

Palms flat on the mattress near her ribs, he hauls himself up her torso, his unbuttoned jeans making him almost painfully aware of every movement.

Smirking down at her, his expression clearly conveys, Is that right?

[notenlightened]

She rises up just enough to kiss him, her hands working down below in a flurry of movement to render them both completely unclothed.

In other words: she needs more skin against her own, and she needs it now.

[itwasjustified]

That gets a groan.

His head falls to the curve of her neck, and he exhales, harsh but not. Blood and skin and brain on fire, he nuzzles her neck, half-heartedly groping for his discarded pants with one hand so he can fish a condom from his wallet.

[notenlightened]

She breathes in, then out, in sharp, quick pants against his cheekbone.

Her teeth graze the shell of his ear and her hand skims down, down and then just a little farther still to feel the hard evidence for herself.

[itwasjustified]

His fingers fist in worn denim.

"Jesus," he hisses, shifting his weight to his elbows while his hips tilt into the welcome touch.

A shaky breath, and his mouth finds her earlobe.

"Do you have any idea what you're capable of, detective?"

[notenlightened]

"I don't know," she replies, her hand working around him in slow, gentle strokes as she mouths at his earlobe.

"This might be the moment where I reach my true potential."

[itwasjustified]

His answering groan hitches, and he thinks about baseball for a quarter of a second, struggling to ground himself.

"Do you really think this is the time for a self-help seminar?"

[notenlightened]

"Point taken."

Her hand releases him, her touch ascending to the contours of his abdomen.

"What is it the right time for?"