Hazard Lights. Chpt 2!
FICTIONAL Jeb x OFC. 18+ NSFW 2k
Now on AO3!
PART 1/PART 2
Photo cred @plainlo
Listen. This is Haimgruder (HamFam trademark), a dramatised Hamish faced character placed in a complete canon-divergence from reality.
I'm a queer women of colour, of course I'm not gonna endorse fucking those people irl. Of Course.
🖤🖤🖤🖤
The cool air nips at her skin as they cross the parking garage and she'd regret her bare legs if not for the memory of Jebs face when she'd slipped off her shoes and shifted her hips just so to wiggle her stockings from underneath her and down her legs until they were pulled off completely, her bare feet sitting comfortably perched upon the dash, maroon painted toes wiggling while Shirley Bassey sang of disappointing men on the radio and Jeb struggled to keep his eyes on the road.
He'd only questioned her plans once "Are you sure?" sounding for all the world like a question he's afraid to know the answer to.
Jesus.
"Just drive the car, Jeb." she'd replied with a hint of softer fondness that seemed to reassure him enough to not doubt her any further.
"OK," a breathy response, more to himself than anyone else, part disbelief, part badly disguised excitement, a small smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. "OK."
Once parked he'd asked her to wait while he jumped out of his seat and skipped round to the passenger door just to be able to open it for her and christ she hopes his gentlemanly sensibilities aren't too offended when she calls a cab in an hour, two if she's lucky.
.
Jeb isn't necessarily a proud man, sometimes it's just one of those things he simply doesn't have the luxury to be, but he hopes she wasn't expecting more. There's no separate bedroom, no balcony, no kitchenette. Just a single room with little home comforts; a clock, a bedside lamp, two suitcases stacked in the far corner.
Once inside she excuses herself to the bathroom giving him time to scoop up the shirts he'd strewn across the bed earlier that evening in a panic about what exactly people wear to parties with pretty girls. He pours two tumblers of expensive scotch and turns to pass her a glass on her return, the tremor in his hand causing the golden liquid to slosh to and fro.
"Single malt." he tells her, only glancing up briefly, his eyes more focused on the alcohol in his hand. "Imported from the Scottish Highlands, 7 years in Oak casks, it's quite fascinating really because many people don't realise to qualify as scotch as opposed to whiskey…"
Barley.
Grain germination.
Single pot distillation.
She doesn't care. She tips her head back and swallows the drink down in one before discarding the glass and moving her hands to the knot of his tie, she's here for a reason after all.
.
Removing Jebs clothes is surprisingly easy. He's eager, almost pup-like in his enthusiasm, and keen to please. There's something enticing about him standing before her; suit, shirt and underwear a crumpled pile on the floor, and she can't help it, can't help herself, when she plants a soft kiss upon his lips before pushing gently on his shoulders to guide him down to his knees, the crimson blush high across his cheeks exquisite against his tan skin as he waits patiently while her fingers work to open the buttons at the collar of her dress.
She takes a seat on the edge of the bed if only so she can admire his nakedness from a better angle, the anxious flexing of his fingers and quick shallow breaths only adding to his attractiveness.
"Are you nervous?"
"Ah...a little" he huffs a laugh "It's ah, been a while."
"I know, I can tell."
"Oh?..." With his furrowed brow and his big wide eyes he looks upset, his nose twitches and he gnaws at his bottom lip. Ah. Embarrassment.
On a layover between flights in Copenhagen she'd taken a trip to the museum and had been thoroughly taken by a marble statue, a woman seated and a man at her feet. "Adoration" it had been called.
As she leans forward to run her hand through Jebs thick dark hair she feels somewhat like marble herself.
He feels exposed as she takes her time to look over him, probing eyes taking in every inch of bare skin. It's a heady mixture of want and vulnerability he hasn't quite decided whether he likes or not yet but it stirs something in him, something that leaves him hard and aching for the second time in one night.
Jeb knows he's out of his depth, he doesn't quite know what to do but he thinks he'll do just about anything to keep her eyes on him and him alone regardless of how small it makes him feel. Is he sure John hasn't set this up? Maybe this is an arrangement made long before tonight, "I have this friend, he needs attention", a deal made out of friendship, made out of pity. Right now he doesn't mind.
He wonders if his wife would laugh to see the way he fawns for attention from someone who is in all likelihood just humouring him.
He splutters praise when she asks for it, Repeats words of thanks when she allows his touch. Stuttered whispered words of disbelief as she lifts her dress off over her head and discards her bra just the same.
He tells her he loves her the first time he sees her tits and from the look on his face she thinks the poor man's foolish enough, at least in this moment, to actually believe it.
"Sure you do, Jeb." She laughs a little, husky and low.
Jeb just blushes harder.
When she takes his hands and gently places them on her hips, fingers folding beneath the fabric of her underwear, he takes the hint and pulls the lace down her legs and onto the floor. When she casually leans back on her hands and lets her thighs slide open he forgets how to breathe.
He'll never, ever, recover from this evening; he thinks they both know that.
If she had more time she'd love to play with him but it would take too long for tonight. She needs to be out of here before "tonight" turns into "tomorrow" lest the poor man get ideas, so she takes his head in her hands, fists full of that luscious hair, and guides his mouth toward where she needs it to be.
"Impress me Jeb." a challenge he's not sure he can meet but he tries just the same.
As her knees draw up and her head falls back she makes a note to thank Mo for having a terrible boyfriend with terrible (wonderful) friends.
She can't believe she going to come on this stupid man's face. Geology and pineapple mazes for fuck sake.
It's not the best orgasm she's ever had but it's up there and the night isn't over yet. She looks down and to her delight finds him still on his knees, lips wet and large hand working a rapid pace over his cock.
"Jeb?"
His hand slows and his mouth moves as if to say something but the words just don't make it.
"Come up here" she beckons honeyed and smooth, "It's time for you to fuck me."
His eagerness is outstanding as he practically launches himself up the bed to be on top of her making her laugh out with the ridiculousness of it. He only looks abashed for a moment before his lips twitch into a smile, perhaps it's that self deprecation, perhaps he's finally getting over his nerves.
"Sorry, I'm… this is.. you are…" he kisses her then, palms her breasts, grabs at her thighs, "incredible."
"How do you want me Jeb? Your room, your rule." she offers playfully as if he has any control over the evening.
Something flashes in his eyes that she can't quite place and he bites at his bottom lip again. Contemplation? Indecision?
She yelps when it only takes a single movement from his strong arms to flip her over, mattress bouncing and rattling the bedside cabinet enough to jostle the lamp, the light from its now skewed shade casting lewd shadows against the far wall.
His teeth and hungry tongue lap and nip across the skin of her back while he grabs handfuls of flesh at her hips, he'd dreamt of this since the theatre. That damn blue dress.
The sheets feel cool against her cheek as he enters her quickly, fumbling with inelegance a stuttering start quickly making way for a rushed desperate pace he maintains with ease. Stamina and force, it seems, is where he shines.
"Fuck, Fuck, Yes, Baby" previous squeaks turned to gutteral grunts as his heavy weight pushes her into the mattress, sweat soaked skin pressed close and heating up her own.
She feels suffocated. She feels on fire. There's no teasing laughter from her now.
The way he fucks her feels almost animalistic, it's frantic and frenzied, graceless and messy.
He fucks her like he's out of control.
He fucks her like he has something to prove.
Yes Jeb, she thinks, Get it. Who knew.
"Oh god, I'm gonna…"
"Don't you dare fucking come yet Jeb!" she's so so close.
He bites into her shoulder just to muffle his moans and fucks her harder.
"Yes, YES, that's it you fucking beautiful man." Her orgasm catches them both by surprise and this one, this one, is up there, takes the crown, all the trophies. This. This is the best she's ever had.
"FUCK!" The praise spurs him on, he made her come, "Oh God, Oh God! Yes. Yes. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
She knew he'd be vocal, she KNEW it. As he comes inside her he tells her he loves her again. Fucking idiot.
The come down is blissful as he gasps, heaving and shaken, against her ear. Her shoulder is wet, oh, he's crying again. Does he even realise?
When he rolls off her he reaches for her waist, pulling her against his chest, and she almost indulges him for a moment before making her excuses of practicality and rolling away, solitary shadowed silhouette moving across the wall as she leaves him for the bathroom.
When she looks back at him she can see the tears that linger against his cheeks, hair disheveled and skin glistening. Smooth tan chest and long lean legs.
Christ. She's just been fucked thoroughly by a man wearing socks.
.
The fluorescent light above the mirror casts harsh shadows under her eyes where the remnants of mascara runs and flakes in black smudged trails down her face.
She toys with the lone toothbrush, the single wash cloth, the fold out travel clock.
She looks to her reflection from the small sink-side clock and back again. Hotel room bathrooms at 2am. Isn't this where all bad decisions are made?
When she moves back into the room she pauses in the doorway, leaning slightly against the frame, and for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with the stupid smile she knows will bloom across his face she says "So, Jeb Magruder, are you going to invite me to stay?".
.
.
