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Date Posted: 14:19:55 02/04/04 Wed
Author: Spin
Subject: Smell of Desire
In reply to: Spin 's message, "Smell of Desire" on 05:08:13 03/24/03 Mon

A/N: Once again I apologize for the very looong wait. RL has been keeping me away from writing and the muses took a vacation without telling me. * *Sigh* Any way, finally I got more for ya. Just a little warning the story is coming to an end *sniff*. Thanks to all that’s been sticking around and reading! You guys are the greatest. =)

~*~

Sara awoke to the sounds of rain falling outside. It was dark in her apartment and one glance at her alarm clock confirmed that it was still rather early in the morning. Though as much as she wanted to, Sara couldn’t go back to sleep. Instead, she lay in bed, her thoughts wandering back to what happened last night. Vicky, Lee, the club, the alcohol, those two matchmaking waitresses, and of course the gorgeous guy she lucky hooked up with. She smiled in the dark, still in disbelief. Never would she have thought that by the end of the night they, Sara ‘The Bitchy Wielder’ Pezzini and Ian “The Brooding Stalker’ Nottingham, would have gotten together. The idea hadn’t even crossed her mind. That was until a few ladies decided to get pushy.

She should be pissed that they thought it necessary to get involved in her love life, but after discovering the real Ian Nottingham, she had to thank them. Okay, okay she had to thank them big time. Helping her get over the ‘Pezzini Stubbornness’ took a lot of hard work. Sara’s smile grew wider. After passing all the discrepancies of their earlier nonexistent relationship, Sara found herself highly attracted to Ian. Who would have thought how much they had in common. The blade on her wrist decided to glow at that particular time. As if it was telling her in its own way that ‘It’ knew all along.

‘Hey I’ve learned my lesson. So quit rubbing it in, will you.’ Sara mentally barked back. The blade hissed once more and just before the glow had died down it gave Sara a little retort. “Ow,” Sara rubbed the part of her wrist where the Witchblade had pinched her. She stared daggers at the ornate bracelet. With the bitchy blade back in its quiet mode, Sara was left alone in the dark with only her thoughts to keep her company.

Her smile returned as she thought about Ian. She nearly laughed out loud remembering the ‘Mr. Ass’ comment she made to Lee. Sigh. The man did have a fine, firm ass. Yup, she had her feel of them cheeks more then once on occasion. She actually had more then just a feel of his ass. There was more to Ian Nottingham then just his posterior. When she means more, she really meant more. Okay, she had to expect with his training and all that the man was very well toned, more like chiseled, underneath all that clothing.

Speaking of clothing, Sara sat up slightly in bed, stopping her train of thought for just a few moments, and eyed the ruined dress that hung loosely on the edge of the chair near the bed. Ian would have to owe, well technically, Sara would have to owe Vicky a new dress. Yet, it was all his fault the flimsy thing got ripped in the first place. Sara flopped back down on to the bed and sighed, ‘Okay, okay, I’ll admit I got carried away. Then again who could blame me.’ She turned her head to see Ian’s ripped shirt pooled on the floor.

Who would have thought Ian Nottingham, the virgin, had very creative mind. Sara shifted uncomfortably in bed, as she recalled what happened after the fun car ride to her place. As worked up as they were from the trip, they did indeed manage to get to her apartment, with the occasional stops on the stairs of course. After the first unsuccessful attempt at trying to open her door, Ian took the keys from Sara and opened it for her.

Sara walked in adding a little extra sway to her hips as she passed Ian. He stood in the doorway, transfixed, just watching her move. She tossed her keys on the kitchen table. Then moved further into her apartment, she slipped the coat off her shoulders and surprisingly, laid his coat on the chair near the bed. Ian thought of it odd since her coat rack was near the front door, but quickly pushed it aside.

She walked back into the living room over to her stereo and turned it on. She pressed play on the CD player, and the slow erotic sounds of a song wafted throughout the apartment. Sara turned around to face Ian, coaxing him with her index finger. Not having to be told twice, Ian quickly closed and locked the door behind him. Gracefully, like a panther, sauntering his way to his lady in waiting.

Instinctively, both wrapped their arms around the other once in reach. Their bodies pressed firmly against the other as they started to sway harmoniously with the song. Silently, they danced no words were needed as they let their bodies do the talking. Hands freely roamed, as mouths liberally tasted. The occasionally moans escaped the other’s lips, which only seemed to heighten the already strong sexual tension that was growing between them.

Sara let her caressing hands progress from his chest, down to his waist, and around to cup his ass. She gave each cheek a nice firm squeeze. Ian wickedly smiled as he remembered what Lara had told him. “Mr. Ass, huh?” Ian whispered into her ear. Sara’s eyes widen in shock, then started to laugh. The sweet sound was rather contagious and soon Ian stared to join in. “Oh God, you knew about that?” Sara asked her hands still fasten on his behind.

Ian nodded his head sheepishly, “Yes.”

Sara smiled, “What can I say? You certainly have some nice buns on you Nottingham.” She emphasized by giving them each a squeeze.

Ian let his hands travel down her waist, and under her dress and firmly mimic what she had done to him. “And so do you, Sara.”

Sara let out a moan as he cupped her ass with his bare hands. She couldn’t take it any more. She wanted him more then anything. “Ian,” she whispered, her voice laced with need. Tilting her head up, Sara offered her lips. Without missing a beat, Ian hungrily captured her mouth. His tongue delving pass, her parted lips to mingle with hers. Sara moaned into his mouth, causing a shiver to run down throughout his body. This caused a particular appendage to respond.

Sara could feel him grow hard against her thigh. It took all of her strength not to yank his pants open, rip his damn underwear off, and throw him on the bed.

Bed.

Oh no, she thought as she opened her eye. The bed seemed like miles away. She was sure that Ian could just lift her up, and carry her there however there were those annoying obstacles in the way. The coffee table, a few chairs, and the couch. Stop. Couch. Oh, couch is good. Couch is comfy. Couch is right there.

Without breaking the kiss, which was amazing since they had yet to come up for air, Sara started guiding Ian back to the couch. All the while, her busy hands were slowly undressing him. After fumbling with the top two buttons, Sara decided to hell with it and ripped open his shirt. Little black buttons few everywhere, rattling as they hit the floor. Ian pulled back from her, shocked from her brazen attack on his shirt.

Breathlessly Sara apologized, “I’ll buy you a new one,” then recaptured his mouth. This time it was her turn to instigate the pace of their kisses. Her seeking hands roamed over his bare torso, up over his chest, and around his shoulders. Slipping the shirt off and letting it drop to the floor. Now, with new territory to explore, Sara pulled her mouth from Ian’s and began placing kisses down his neck and chest.

Just a few more inches to the couch, yet Ian, who could pluck a bullet in mid-air, was having a hard time walking and concentrating on the delicious sensations Sara was giving him with her kisses. As if his brain only had enough energy to do one thing at a time. Walk or stand still? Walk or stand still? Sara quickly remedied the problem. She stopped what she was doing, and shoved Ian back until the back of his calves hit the edge of the furniture. Ian fell back onto the couch, and Sara immediately followed, straddling over him.

Sara purposely ground her hips against him. She could feel the bulge grow bigger, and no doubt harder beneath her. A mewling sound escaped Ian’s lips. The sound reminded Sara of a cat. She smiled, Ian her over grown feline. She suddenly had the urge to say, ‘Here kitty, kitty. Come here so I can pet you.’ Or was that, ‘Let me pet you so you can come.’

Sara was quickly pulled from her musing when she felt Ian’s roughen hands glide up her thighs and under her dress. Unfortunately, the dress did not leave much room for his hands to freely roam. In a hoarse whisper Sara demanded, “Dress. Off. Now.” See, and who said Sara wasn’t very articulate. Ian’s large hands grasped the hem of the dress and started to lift slowly, carefully. He did not want to ruin the beautiful dress. Sara had looked ravishing in it, and he hoped she’d wear it for him again in the future. Alas, that was not going to happen.

Impatiently, Sara grabbed the edge of the dress and stared to tug the obstructive fabric off. ‘Damn it, it was so easy slipping this thing on. Why won’t it come off…’ Sara’s thoughts were interrupted as the loud rip echoed in the apart. “Oh shit,” she cursed realizing that she had ripped the dress in the process.

“What?” Ian asked concerned.

Slightly embarrassed Sara bit her lower lip, “I accidentally ripped part of Vicky’s dress.”

Ian couldn’t help but smile. The thought that Sara was so aroused and turned on that in her haste she had torn the dress. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy her a new one. Until then this,” Ian said while tearing the material apart from Sara, “needs to come off.” Not feeling all that bad now that it was already ruined. He bunched the material in his hand and tossed it aside. Ian’s eyes widen, realizing that Sara wore no bra underneath. Her beautiful breasts fully exposed for him to touch and taste.

“Touch me, Ian.” Sara begged, when he hesitated. Her fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly, letting him know it was all right. “Please touch me.”

Her voice so rich with need, Ian was unsure if he was dreaming or not. It had only been in his wildest and most erotic dreams that his beautiful goddess would want him. To touch, taste, and partake in the carnal acts of lovemaking. It just has to be a dream, Ian thought, it has to be. His hand wandered up from her thigh, over her stomach, between the valley of her breasts, and then to stop over the scar, over the brand of the blade, over her heart. He made no other move.

Sara sensed something was wrong. Worriedly she gently tugged at his hair, forcing him to look at her. “Ian?” Her voice was no longer hoarse with need but tender with concern.

Her heart nearly went out to him when he finally looked up at her. His eyes radiated so brightly with love and …fear. “Sara,” Ian replied just as softly.

She moved her hands to tuck his hair behind his hears, then cupping his face. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Ian’s brows furrowed, “I must be dreaming.”

Sara smiled, “Why do you say that?”

“Because,” Ian began, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “It is only in my dreams you would want …me.”

Sara’s eyes misted over. He looked so hopeful yet so deathly afraid that she really didn’t want him. What could she do to convince him otherwise? Sara leaned forward and tenderly kissed him. Pouring all her emotions and yes, love for she wasn’t going to deny the fact that she was falling in love with him, into that single kiss.

When she pulled back Sara asked, “Do you still think that you’re dreaming, Ian?”

Ian’s eyes remained closed, a huge smile crossed his face, “No, but now I believe I’ve just died and gone to heaven.”

Sara grinned and bit him. “Ow, why did you do that?” Ian asked while rubbing the tender area where she sank her teeth in. “Are you convinced yet?”

“If I say yes,” Ian lowered his head and gave her his infamous lost puppy look, “Will you kiss my boo boo?”

God, the man was just too cute. With her brow raised Sara said, “I’ll do better then that, Ian.” She lowered her head, and laved away the pain with her tongue. Ian gasped and lolled his head back onto the couch revealing in the exquisite sensation.

The rest of the night went as such. However, nothing more came (pun intended) out of the evening. They both felt that it wasn’t the right time for them to move to that next level. No, they had agreed that though there was something about going full speed ahead in their relationship, giving into their physical lust for each other, and ending their corporal torment in culmination. Gasp. Going slower was much more fun and tantalizing.

Memories of the rest of the night went through Sara’s mind. Just because they had agreed to hold off on sex didn’t mean they couldn’t do some heavy making out. Sara made sure she gave him one lesson: Foreplay 101, correction, one-on-one. And by the end of that particular session, they both needed a separate cold shower.

Sara realized that during her musing of last night the rain had stopped and the morning sun was slowly rising in the distance, lightening the darken sky. She also realized that while thinking about last night she had managed to ruin yet another pair of her panties. ‘Damn it, Nottingham this is all your fault.’

“What are you thinking about?” A male voice broke through the quiet early morning. A strong arm reached out for her. Snaking it around her waist and pulling her closer.

Sara turned her head and smiled, pushing aside golden brown locks from his face, and tucking them behind his ear. He looked so sexy lying in her bed, with only his boxers. The same could be said for Sara, clad in her tank top and her now damp panties.

“You,” she finally whispered, caressing his soft lips with her fingers.

Ian’s eyes widen, “Oh, care to elaborate?”

Sara thought for a moment, then came (she would too if he didn’t stop stroking her that way. Poor, poor panties.), to a decision that showing was worth a thousand words. “Sure,” she said before taking Ian’s lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

~*~

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