Sometimes Stevie liked to go all out when she bought his birthday presents. Other times, she felt something smaller, more intimate, more knowing, was appropriate. And on special occasions, she liked to fuck with Lindsey’s head…
He was pulling at the paper carefully, with his usual fastidiousness, and she resisted the urge she had to poke him until he hurried up. “C’mon,” she urged, fighting a smile. “I can’t wait to see how much you love my gift.”
Lindsey turned quizzical eyes on her, pausing his unwrapping. “Stevie, what have you done?”
"Nothing!" she protested vehemently and the guitarist rolled his eyes.
Three minutes later and he was staring blankly at the small cardboard box in his hands.
"Aren’t you going to open it?"
"I just did," he intoned. "It’s a box."
"Oh, ye of little faith. Open the box."
Obediently, he did so and Stevie was gratified to see the small bemused grin on his handsome face as he pulled out its contents. “A black T-shirt. And jeans.”
"So, would you like an explanation?"
"Even if I don’t, I suspect I’m about to hear one…"
"You know me far too well, Mr Buckingham."
"Or not well enough," he muttered under his breath.
"Anyway," Stevie continued, ignoring him. "When I was staying with you I went on a little search around your house and-"
"You what?"
"Well, Kristen very rudely didn’t offer to give me a guided tour so I did it myself. VERY interesting, if I may say so…"
"Again, I doubt I can stop you."
"Lindsey, you have NO storage space. And next to no clothes."
"Because I don’t need space and I don’t want more clothes."
"It’s your wife’s responsibility to keep you well-clothed and she’s obviously neglecting that duty so I’ve decided to step in." She reached up the collar of his leather jacked and moved it aside to reveal a gaping hole near the top of Lindsey’s shirt. "Look at this! So, I bought you a new shirt and new jeans. Knowing you, you’ll wear them to death within a few months but I felt I’d be letting you down if I didn’t make the effort."
"Um, thanks?"
Stevie laughed loudly and tucked the clothing back in the box. “God, Lindsey, your face right now!” She leaned forward from where they sat on her bed and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Happy belated birthday, honey. I have reservations for us and then we can come back here and you can unwrap your REAL present…”
"My real present?"
"I think you’ll enjoy it a lot more. You can wear it, eat it, touch it and it will love every minute. And if you’re good, it’ll last forever…"
"What the fuck are you talking about now?"
This time she caressed his face gently before poking him in the nose. “Sometimes I wish I loved a more intelligent man. I’ll let you figure that one out yourself, Mr Buckingham…” Patting him on the cheek, she added, “I think this gift will respond a lot better to being unwrapped too…”
-
He was carrying a bottle of rich red wine. She resented the fact that his hands were full of alcohol and her handbag instead of her breasts… That’s where they ought to be right now, Stevie thought to herself, allowing herself to pout pathetically at her imaginings.
They’d spent dinner in a darkened back corner of the restaurant, all low lighting and intimacy. He’d spent half the meal leaning in FAR too close for her comfort, murmuring seductive comments in her ear that drowned out the noise from the bustle of the nearby kitchens and other restaurant-goers. His fingers had brushed her long blonde hair behind her ears with startling frequency and delicious shivers had raced down her spine at the gentle touch, only serving to heighten her anticipation of the rest of the evening. As he well knew, the bastard.
There were certain advantages to having known each other for so long and their unique understanding of each other’s body language and posture certainly spoke to that. Stevie tried to hold back her smile as she watched Lindsey fiddle clumsily with their hotel room key, the stubborn old man refusing to give up either the bottle or the bag in order to better get them inside. Quickly. She’d make him take it slow tonight. Just to punish him for the arrogance he’d shown in ordering her meal for her earlier in the evening. He’d chosen well, of course, but still. She was going to draw this out.
The suite was as dark as sin when they entered, and Stevie quickly motioned for Lindsey to leave the light-switches alone and simply light the numerous candles she’d already placed in their rooms earlier. He did as he was told, sighing melodramatically, and she took advantage of the time to find the stereo system and put on some music - slow, melodic, sensual. Perfect. Music was the language they spoke best, in truth, and she was going to take advantage of that. He’d always been hesitant to dance with her but her whispered promises in his ear earlier were bound to convince him this would be worth his while. And it would. No, Lindsey would never be able to be praised as anything more than an adequate dancer but then, neither was she these days, she had to admit to herself. Either way, regardless of his talent or lack there-of, there really was very little to compare to the wonder and perfection of slow-dancing with her lover, feeling his arms around her and closing her eyes to any of their current problems, just letting their bodies move together in a shadow of what was to come.
She heard him laughing as he approached, watched him watching her as she started swaying in time to the music, conducting the musicians with an outstretched hand. Lindsey kissed her fingers, one by one, and then took her in his arms. Dancing was a different experience with him than with anyone else and the heightened awareness she felt as his palm spanned her lower back and heat spread through her body at his assured touch was almost too much to bear. His lips automatically went to her neck as he rested his head on her shoulder and she bit his earlobe, chastising him. So he licked her there. Damn child. Her hand was folded into his larger one and she felt, with pleasure, his calloused thumb mindlessly caressing her knuckles in small circles, over and over and over and over again until she could no longer hear the music but just the beating of their hearts and his breath against her neck.
Some nights when they’d performed onstage before, she’d felt iciness coming from him, rays of coldness warning her to stay away. Other evenings, the warmth and affection were palpable, and she reveled in it, stretching out in its comfort like a cat enjoying the sun’s beams. Tonight, as he dipped her once, twice, leaving her laughing and breathless as she came back up and bumped into him, heat emanated from his chest, all fire and passion. Without much thought (as was her general practice, she supposed…) she raised her hand, pressed her open palm to his ribcage. Stevie could feel his heartbeat speeding up beneath her hand and gloried in the fact that even after all this time, a mere touch could have such an effect on him. She stared at the small buttons on his white dress shirt, not daring to look right into his eyes just yet, and licked her dry lips. Blinking, she let herself glance upwards just the once and was taken aback by the way he was staring at her mouth. Hungrily.
Her fingers flexed of their own volition, digging into his ribs almost too hard, and Stevie could sense his pleasure in the movement, could feel his breath now skittering across her lips, his mouth so close now. But not yet. No, she was going to draw this out, dammit, even if she died of anticipation in the process. And maybe she would… Lindsey laughed low in his throat as she drew back slightly and cradled her cheek with his palm, feeling, treasuring the softness of her skin. She knew he loved her skin. She titled her head into the touch and watched as his eyelids shuttered close for one moment. She turned a mere inch and pressed a kiss on his wrist and was amused at the way he almost jolted back at the contact. One would think they’d be more blasé about each other after all this time but the past few years hadn’t allowed them as much time together as either of them would’ve liked and it was an odd (though pleasurable) adjustment to make, being able to be together so much whilst on the road touring again.
When the track stopped, they stopped.
She could see the intent is his eyes and so quickly turned to face the other direction, feigning the need to adjust some little trinket sitting on the nearby table. Apparently, he wasn’t fooled by her attempt to play it slow and stepped up behind, draping the length of his body over hers, chest to her back and his hips against hers. Stevie gasped as he smoothed his hands along her waist, itching to close her hands over his as they rested on her hips. Eventually she gave in to the desire to push back against him, entwining their fingers and not moving an inch.
He nudged his nose just behind her ear, and she could feel him breathing in the scent of her hair (she wondered if he’d still be so enchanted by it if she changed her shampoo…). Feeling warm desire curling in her midsection, she tried to straighten up as he brushed his mouth to the rim of ear. Barely there, his touch was nevertheless far too much for what she needed right now and her fingers tightened around his, knuckles white as she suppressed her energy. Slowly, he ran his fingers from her hips around her body just a little further so that they were pressed low on her abdomen.
She couldn’t stop herself, her hips moving back against his firmly, a soft but unmistakable undulation, telling him what she refused to admit out loud right now. Dammit, he had to wait.
He nuzzled her neck and she weakened further, tilting her head and allowing him more access. “So, Stevie, is it time to unwrap my present yet? I’ve been patient…”
She snorted with laughter, trying to hide the hitch in her breath as he kissed her neck softly. “You’re never patient, Linds…”
"Oh, I can be."
"Prove it."
He removed his hands from her and she buzzed with delight at the effort it clearly cost him. Just as she was about to capitulate and kiss him properly, finally, his phone vibrated in his jean pocket. Startling, she turned out of his grasp, now facing him as he looked down at his phone, looking almost confused but, more than anything, aroused.
Oh, damn. She really did hate technology.
-
He pulled the cell phone out of his pocket, cursing as he noted the number. “Kristen,” he murmured and put a stilling hand on Stevie’s hip as she leaned into him, resting her head on his chest as he took the call.
"Kristen? Mmm, yes. Well, I had a nice dinner out with the band… Yes, of course. She is part of the band as you well know…. No need for that, honey. We’ve been through this… Yes, I did. Why?… Look, can we have this discussion another time? I’m exhausted and was about to go to sleep… Yes, thank you… Uh, yeah, bye… You too." Sighing, Lindsey hung up and slipped the inconvenient object back and kissed the top of Stevie’s head. "Sorry about that. Now, where were we?"
"Seriously? Lindsey, having your wife call while I can feel your erection against me is what I call a mood-killer…"
Laughing, he rested his forehead against hers. “We can fix that,” he said throatily before kissing her softly. “You can fix that…”
Smirking, Stevie reached for him, giving him a quick stroke, before stepping back and indicating for Lindsey to go into the bedroom. “C’mon then, Mr Buckingham. Before I change my mind.”
"You never change your mind about this," he asserted smugly, laughing as his lover rolled her eyes. They moved into the bedroom side by side, not touching at all but obviously incredibly aware of the other person’s presence. Stevie watched Lindsey’s spine straighten slightly at the sight of the sheets sitting rumpled on her large bed and smiled as he stopped in his tracks. She paused for a moment then made her move, wrapping her arms around him from behind tightly, the small pudge of his stomach and the smell of his new cologne the only thing that kept her mind aware of the fact that this was in fact 2013 and they shouldn’t be doing this anymore.
When her wandering fingers finally started playing mindlessly with his belt buckle, he turned around in her arms, the back of his legs against the edge of the bed. She smiled appreciatively. He looked good here, in her bedroom, all assured smiles and mussed hair. Oh god, why did she have to want him so bad? Surely her sex drive should be lower than it felt on this excruciating tour of self-denial? She needed him now.
"I’ve been wondering, Miss Nicks…" He reached for her, lifted her hands away from his belt and caressing her palms with his calloused fingertips. "This present that needs unwrapping…" His thumb traced along her wrist, small circles drawn on the tender skin there, before lifting her hand and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the tip of her index finger. Sighing, she canted into him, letting their lower bodies come into contact. "This present, does it like to be unwrapped or does it want to unwrap itself?"
Lindsey wrapped an arm around her back and shifted his knee between hers, leaving her feeling weak in a way that made her want him to lower her to the damn bed already. It was there, right there, and why the fuck was he holding her upright when she wanted to be flat on her back and his tongue on her, already?!
"I think I’d like to unwrap it, if that’s alright…"
"Mmm," she attempted to agree with him. "I, yes. Unwrap me."
Lindsey laughed and ran his nails along her forearm, caressed her upped arm, traced some kind of pattern just above her shirt. Her hands stayed still by her sides and she just watched him, the quickly darkening blue of his eyes, so captivating, so hers. She wanted to kiss him and her hands rose, her fingers curled over his chest. Nudging his face into the curve of her neck, Lindsey chuckled softly to himself. “Sometimes I wonder how the hell I stayed away for so long… No more. Never.” Nuzzling the edge of her jaw, his lips brushed her sensitive skin with every word and Stevie felt her hips rise and bump against his as she sought to get closer to him. “Never, Stevie. I promise.” And he nipped her earlobe with that last word, Stevie’s fingers grasping at the short curls at the back of his neck at the assault on her sense. Fuck.
"Now. Stop teasing."
"I like teasing," Lindsey murmured, his mouth traveling a path of tender, soft kisses back along her jawline, all the way to the corner of her lips. Bastard. "A lot," he added, tilting up her chin with his finger.
Why the hell was there still this space between them? Why was he still talking? Enough. His breath caressed her mouth and she couldn’t stop from breaching the gap, rising into him, aching for him, needing him. Now. Fingers gripping his black shirt fiercely, she tugged him down to her, her legs tightening around his, and pushing up against him. A low growl was heard and she watched his eyes darken. Sexy. She stopped the words she could see trying to escape from his mouth and kissed him. His response was instantaneous, a claiming of her own mouth that was as fierce and possessive as she felt. He was hers. And he was going to have her. She gently pushed on his chest and he fell back onto the bed. All hers. For tonight.