Hii! I was thinking about how Phillip would be at the beach or that kinda vacation.Would he be flirty or...idk.Of course,no pressure or anything.I was also wondering if you were okay since there have been about 6 days since you last posted.Thats all.Bye!!
Oops took me forever to get to this. So sorry! I’ve been posting regularly because of how busy I’ve been with work and grad school BUT I’m back!
You wake to Phillip’s work voice.
Low, clipped, and completely out of place in a bedroom washed in warm morning light.
The balcony doors are open. White curtains drift lazily into the room, carrying the smell of saltwater and flowering vines from somewhere below. Beyond them, the ocean flashes blue beneath the rising sun.
Phillip stands barefoot near the window in nothing but black boxer briefs.
His back is turned to you, one hand holding his phone to his ear while the other rests on his hip. Morning light catches along his shoulders and the old scars scattered across his skin. His hair is still disordered from sleep, curling slightly where it usually lies neat.
“I understand that,” he says. “They can wait.”
You stretch beneath the sheets, watching the muscles in his back shift as he moves.
He looks unfairly good for a man breaking the only rule you gave him for this vacation.
No work before breakfast.
The tile is cool beneath your feet. Phillip does not hear you approach over the voice coming through his phone and the waves breaking outside.
You wrap your arms around his waist from behind and press your cheek between his shoulder blades.
His entire posture changes.
His shoulders loosen, and his free hand immediately covers yours where they rest against his stomach.
“I’m still listening,” he says into the phone.
You smile against his back.
His thumb strokes once over your knuckles.
You kiss the warm skin between his shoulder blades.
The person on the other end continues speaking.
His hand tightens around yours.
Phillip turns his head just enough to look at you over his shoulder.
You give him your sweetest smile.
He covers the bottom of the phone with his palm.
“That wasn’t my question.”
You press another kiss against his back.
He returns to the call, but instead of moving away, Phillip reaches behind himself and hooks one arm around you. His palm settles firmly over your backside, keeping you pressed against him while he listens to someone explain whatever emergency apparently could not survive until Monday.
You slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear.
Phillip catches your wrist instantly.
He does not interrupt the person speaking.
He simply pulls your hand away and holds it flat against his stomach.
You can feel the quiet laugh moving through his chest.
The words are meant for you, though the person on the phone goes silent.
“Not you,” Phillip says. “Keep talking.”
His hand slides slowly up the back of your thigh, fingers disappearing beneath the hem of the shirt you slept in. He squeezes once, almost absentmindedly, like touching you requires no more conscious thought than breathing.
But his thumb has begun drawing slow circles against the bare curve of your ass.
“Yes,” he says into the phone. “Send me the revised numbers.”
You kiss the side of his neck.
His head tips slightly, granting you more room before he seems to realize what he has done.
You smile against his skin.
Phillip covers the phone again.
“You got about five seconds to get back in that bed.”
His gaze drags over your bare legs.
“Or I’m gonna forget there’s somebody on this call.”
His eyes return to yours.
Something hot and amused settles into them.
Phillip watches as you walk backward toward the bed, his attention slipping down your body without shame.
“You cannot count while conducting business.”
You climb onto the mattress and settle against the pillows, making no effort to pull the shirt back down over your thighs.
The wintergreen gum tucked in his cheek gives him away.
He turns toward the balcony again.
You lift the sheet over your legs.
His eyes move over you once more.
He takes his hand away from the phone.
“Move the meeting. I’ll look at it Monday.”
The person begins protesting.
Phillip stares directly at you.
“Because my wife needs me.”
You do not need anything.
Judging by the look on his face, he knows that.
“No,” he continues. “It is not an emergency.”
“It better not become one.”
He ends the call and powers the phone off before placing it facedown on the table.
The room goes quiet except for the ocean.
“That was very commanding.”
Phillip begins walking toward the bed.
He stops at the foot of the mattress.
“And you were very distracting.”
“I was saying good morning.”
“With your hand in my underwear?”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
Phillip catches your ankle beneath the sheet.
You try to pull it away, but his grip tightens just enough to drag you several inches toward him.
He bends and kisses the inside of your ankle.
His mouth moves slowly upward while his hands push the sheet away from your legs.
“That is a very delayed greeting.”
“You promised not to work.”
“That is not what you said.”
Phillip climbs onto the mattress, settling between your knees.
“No?” His hands slide beneath the shirt and close around your waist. “What’d I say?”
“You said they could survive without you for three days.”
“They called you before eight.”
His mouth brushes your stomach.
You thread your fingers into his sleep-mussed hair.
His hands travel higher along your sides, taking the shirt with them until cool air slips across your skin.
He kisses beneath your ribs, lingering there.
Then the center of your stomach.
Then the soft skin just above your hip.
It is unhurried in a way Phillip rarely gets to be at home. No watch on his wrist. No boots beside the door. No vehicle waiting to take him somewhere you cannot follow.
Just sunlight moving over the bed and his mouth wandering wherever it pleases.
“You planned an entire vacation just to stay in the room?” you ask.
Phillip pushes your shirt higher and kisses the skin he uncovers.
“Planned it to get you somewhere nobody can find us.”
His gaze flicks toward the dark phone.
“I own the phone. Can throw it in the ocean if I need to.”
His mouth curves against your waist.
“You keep touching me like that while I’m trying to work, and excessive is what you’re gonna get.”
You tug lightly at his hair.
“I thought you liked it.”
One hand settles beside your head. The other remains beneath your shirt, thumb tracing the underside of your breast.
His face is close enough that you can smell wintergreen and coffee on his breath.
His mouth catches yours with all the focus he had been giving the phone moments earlier. You barely have time to breathe before his hand slides behind your neck and pulls you deeper into it.
Phillip brushes his nose against yours before kissing the corner of your mouth, your cheek, the sleep-warm skin beneath your eye.
“Morning, beautiful,” he murmurs again.
You smile despite yourself.
“Wasn’t looking at you properly the first time.”
His hand slips around your waist, pulling you against him until there is no space left between you.
“You turned your phone off.”
“What if they need Commander Graves?”
Phillip studies your face for a moment.
The teasing in his expression fades into something quieter.
“They get him every other morning.”
His thumb moves over your cheek.
“I spend half my life waking up in rooms without you. They can leave me alone in the one where you’re here.”
The words settle somewhere beneath your ribs.
You pull him down and kiss him before he can see how much they affected you.
Phillip smiles against your mouth anyway.
His arm tightens around you as he rolls onto his back, taking you with him until you are stretched across his chest.
The curtains billow into the room.
Somewhere on the table, the coffee he ordered before you woke grows cold.
Phillip kisses your shoulder, then the side of your neck, his hands moving lazily beneath your shirt.
You feel his smile against your skin.
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@larrytheberry2 @phillygraves @kathrynwilmot @vused @samlikescod @marvel-ness @cassandrardr2 @theduchessofmandalore
