Author's Notes: This was actually written on the fly in a Whatsapp conversation for PeachCheetah, the best Timeless friend and beta a girl could ever hope for. It was inspired by the gif in the link below. DEFINITELY check that out first. My girl requested a fic based on it, right then and there. I copy and pasted the conversation into MS Word, fixed it up a smidge, and this is the result. Enjoy!
Warning: Strong T rating.
img dot photobucket dot com /albums/v626/MajorSam/Timeless/259eca68-c8dd-4af1-8081-cff95bad355c_zpsq4i9hb2l dot gif
Lucy doesn't even hear him come into the kitchen. She's entirely absorbed in the view beyond the kitchen window: her girls, joyous and loud, playing in the backyard. She had been doing dishes, but how is she supposed to focus on mundane chores when the two most beautiful children on Earth were out enjoying the sunshine, wild and carefree and amazing? She'd swiftly given up and is now leaning forward against the window sill, resting on her elbows, watching them. She smells him only a second before she feels him, the warm summer air suddenly warmer as she feels his hands on her hips. She expects a greeting but instead Wyatt holds her steady and presses his body forward, an obvious bulge rubbing against her backside.
"Wyatt... what are you doing..."
His hands move from her hips to the edge of her little cotton shorts and beyond, running up and down her bare thighs. They tense at his touch.
He scrapes his nails across her sensitive skin and she hisses.
"The girls are right there!"
A particularly loud shout from Flynn backs up that fact.
"They just went out ten minutes ago. They're oblivious to anything but the new toys."
He leans over and kisses her neck. She shudders, head falling forward involuntarily, her dark hair curtaining her face. They don't say anything more, he just slips his hand down the front of her shorts and makes sure she's ready before shimmying their clothes aside just enough.
She has to bite her cheek to stop from cursing out loud as he pushes into her, the windows open to let in the fresh summer breeze. It had been a hectic week, the chance of any alone time with her husband basically non-existent. Their lives are crazy, but she still wants him, all the time, their passion never waning. But she has an afternoon meeting she has to get ready for, the moment to watch her kids play a stolen one, one she shouldn't have taken. She certainly doesn't have time for this... but damnit, Wyatt is trailing his lips up and down the column of her neck, and his other hand was again raking his nails up her thigh, hidden by the long, baggy t-shirt she wore. His t-shirt.
His breath is hot against her and she wishes she could twist her head and kiss him, taste his tongue, but if the girls were to look over... she can't risk it. She just stares forward, unseeing, at a spot on the windowsill. Wyatt breaks his rhythm behind her, rolling his hips at a new angle and she finally gasps, unable to contain it, a hand flying to grip at the countertop for better balance, knuckles white. He chuckles and nips at her neck and she knows the smug bastard is smirking. But damn he feels so good inside of her and it has been too long and his fingers are doing just the right thing between her legs. Maybe the smirk is warranted.
She's done only moments later, biting her cheek again and squeezing her eyes shut as hot pleasure, the kind only Wyatt could give her, washes over her. The hand not under her shorts takes hold of her hip, grasping hard as Wyatt thrusts a final few times before following her over the edge. She stands up and leans back into him, her legs unsteady and needing the solid weight of him to keep her up. His chest heaves behind her, silent, but needing to recover his breath.
When he's ready he gives a final squeeze to her hip, the hand between her thighs stroking up and down the soft skin. He lays a final, gentle kiss to her neck, pulling her shorts back up before stepping away entirely and taking three strides back.
She takes a deep breath and turns around. Goddamn her husband is hot, standing there all smug, tucked back into his shorts but with the fly still open. She almost pulls him to their bedroom right then and there, never able to get enough of him. But then he taps at the watch on his wrist, reminding her of the time.
"Have a good meeting, babydoll."
And with that he saunters out of the room.
A smirk of her own grows on her face as she hurries through a quick shower and dresses for the meeting.
She'll get him back that night.
Yaaaay! I actually managed to successfully write a ficlet! I've so often tried to write short stories, and they somehow always balloon into way longer things, that take way longer to finish and edit and publish etc etc. Hope you enjoyed this sweet little blip into their crazy ordinary, wonderful life. I'd love to hear your thoughts!