With Benefits?

His sharpened fingernails came closer as he used his hand to sweep the hair out of her face, where he tucked it behind her ear. Slowly his fingernails traced the lobes of her ears, following the skin along her jaw line to her chin. He brought them down to her collarbone, where he slowly, and gingerly traced the bump it left. Bringing his hands to her shoulders he placed his palms flat, they were warm, as he usually was.
He left them there for a moment, looking at her intensely, she could hear the gears in his head turning as a mischievous expression danced across his features. Still, she stood, barely guarded against his advances. She wanted badly to laugh and destroy the mood so that she could push him away, but nothing responded when she asked it to moved. Her fingers didn’t twitch, her hand didn’t raise to force him away, and her brain stayed silent as his fingernails found their way to her shoulders.
His hand raised off her skin, only touching her ever-so-slightly, were his honed nails once more. They traveled down her arm, sending goose bumps back up to her shoulders. Her arms raised on their own as he passed her elbows on to the tips of her fingers. He circled around, tracing his way back up her arm on the underside this time. It tickled, but she found that no smile raised her lips. She was slowly sinking into the sensation, both her mind and body were already over taken.
He passed her elbows once more, and found the dip of her armpits. He continued on around the swell of her breasts and down her sides where he was stopped by the belt that lingered there. She heard his breath catch as she watched his bottom lip wilt in disappointment. It quivered for a moment as their eyes met again. Finally, her mouth worked, she smiled a sassy crooked smile, one that he would see as a challenge.
He tucked his fingers between the belt and her skin, as he smiled back in response. He tugged at the small piece of leather, as though he hoped it would just pop and fall off. She almost wanted to laugh again, he was making such a face. Instead, he yanked it hard, pulling her closer to him.
She looked up at him, finding that they were close enough now to kiss. He was looking down at her as well, maybe coming to the same conclusion. She felt his fingers move again, dancing along the top of the belt around her hips. Then they shot up her spine only to end with his palms pressed against her shoulder blades. He pulled her close then, and hugged her to him. Warm, like always; She rested her head on the crook of his neck.


“Harlea?” he breathed raggedly, pausing to think of something to say to her, “You’re really soft.”
He cursed himself in his mind, he wanted to tell her how he felt about her, but he really wasn’t sure what his feelings were. At times he wanted to degrade her, other times he wanted raise her up in praise. Then there were those times, minimal as they were, that he wanted to throw her down and claim her as his. He was fighting between all of those right now. He felt her skin, bare from her waist up, against his. Teasing and entrancing him all at once.

She chuckled at his words, “That doesn’t sound like what you meant to say.”

She looked up at him once again, “I should go.” With that said, she turned from him and grabbed her shirt off the floor. Shane’s heart began to pound rapidly as he caught a glimpse of her bare chest in the mirror. Suddenly, his mind raced with flashes of them both intertwined in a tangle of bed sheets and limbs. He imagined her face flushed with the heat of their passions, twisted in the overwhelming abyss that threatened to consume them both. He felt his thrusts with each thump of his heart. His tongue swelled and his throat closed, his body broke into a cold sweat. He crossed his arms across his chest, covering his mouth with one of his hands, it was all he could do to control himself.

He watched silently as she threw the deep blue shirt on and zipped it up. It brought the blue out in her eyes, he noticed as she turned around to face him once more. Thoughts of her perfect breasts bare under that thin piece of fabric played in his head. His insides twisted with the desire to feel them in his hands, to taste them eagerly with his mouth, but most of all to feel her writhing from his ministrations.
She smiled at him, “I don’t know how you do it, but you always know how to make me feel better.”

He nodded at her, saying nothing. Harlea looked on for a moment, seeing the distance in his eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.
He shook his head in dismay, alarmed that she was coming closer to him once more; he feared that he was no longer in control of himself.

His hands turned loose, finding their way around her hips again. He yanked her closer to him and lowered his face to hers, capturing her lips in his own. His fingers snaked the short distance from her belt to the zipper of her shirt. With a smooth motion, he jerked it down, effectively freeing her from the cloth once more. He kissed her harder then, flicking his tongue across her bottom lip. Much to his surprise, she returned his advances and opened her mouth to him. He explored her greedily, his hands taking a cue from his tongue, cupping her ample endowments. His thumbs immediately tracing the areola, reveling in both the feeling of them and her catching her breath through his kisses.
Her hand pushed against his chest, hard, and urgently. He suddenly felt like he’d over-stepped the unspoken bounds between them. He broke the kiss, reluctantly, and let go of her, taking a step back.
Harlea gasped for air, resting against the counter-top, feeling the water from the sink being absorbed into the seat of her pants. Her ice blue eyes glared at him through a thin curtain of her chocolate hair. She watched his chest, noticing they were heaving at the same pace. She studied him with her hand still out, a feeble attempt to block further advances. She stayed frozen, breathing heavily, watching him with eyes intent to know his thoughts.
“I should go.” She said slowly, making her way to the door without turning from him.
She escaped the bathroom, rear-end first, chuckling nerviously as she slowly pulled the door behind her.

Shane watched her retreat from him, lettling the rejection sink in with each chime of her awkward laughter.
"Harlea, wait!" he called after her, grabbing the door before it closed. "I'm sorry." he added, following her into the hallway.

She turned to face him, smiling strangely as she finished zipping her shirt back up and tucking it in her dark jeans, effectivly shooting down any hope he'd had to continue their little interlude. Still, he knew what that shirt was hiding, and the images danced for him in the back of his mind.
"Don't be," she winked at him, "but, do know, I refuse to be late to school."
She giggled playfully, leaving him standing alone and stunned in the hallway by the bathroom door.