Oh. My. God.
My hips squirmed against his a bit, and what the hell was I doing writhing against Wesley like a lap dancer? I was saved only because he stopped his assault on my mouth so we could both breathe. I couldn't move, of course, but... ok, did I want to move?
"This still isn't talking, Summers, but... I think that can wait."
My brain was shut off. It was the only rational excuse for my next words.
I struggled to get off him in some sort of ladylike or at least graceful manner, but it didn't quite work. Stumbling a bit as I made it to the bed, I kept trying to think of why I was doing this. Or going to do this. And all I could come up with was... we were both lost.
It was as good an excuse as any for pulling at Wesley until he joined me on the bed. My hands seemed to wander all over his chest and, dammit, he needed to take his shirt off. Forget the fact that I got to see him shirtless anytime I wanted when we went to sleep every night, I just wanted it off. Now.
So, I yanked it off - maybe a little forcefully - and started kissing him again, nibbling a bit on his lower lip as my hands just decided to take a tour of Wesley's chest and back. I kept pressing myself closer to him, as if no matter how close I got it wasn't good enough...
Omigod, he was going to stop. He was going to stop anytime now like we always did cuz it didn't make any sense and he was going to walk away and leave me all alone and horny and...
"Now," I said breathlessly, hoping to whatever deities were listening that he wouldn't leave.
((Open for Wesley))