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"Oh, my god."
She rolled her eyes.
"Jesus."
"It's just braids, Peter." Blushing now from the heat of his gaze, she hesitated in the doorway, suddenly shy. She toyed with the end of one of the blond cords that had captured his attention so well. "Seriously?"
He held his hand out to her and she moved towards him. He pulled her closer, into the vee of his legs and smiled up from where he was sprawled in the chair. "Seriously." He had, with his puppydog eyes, convinced her to spend the unexpectedly idle day drinking overpriced beers with him at Fenway, badgered her into jeans and a t-shirt. The loose braids on either side of her face were a lovely bonus. She shifted on the balls of her bare feet, uncomfortable under his friendly scrutiny.
He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of her jeans and tugged her onto his lap.
She tilted her head to the side. "We're not going to the game, are we?"
The grin lit up his face, made his eyes sparkle dangerously. "Nope."
She mock-pouted at him and he stretched up to capture her lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. She shifted closer and he ran his hands from her hips to the the roundness of her ass, tracing the stitching on the pockets of her jeans. He pulled her against him and she rocked her hips forward, rubbing herself against the ridge of his cock.
His hands traced a path up her back, cupping the back of her neck and toyed with the wispy hair that had escaped from the braids, twirling the little strands around his fingers. He stroked his fingers over the part along the back of her head, petting the hot skin of her scalp and the cold silk of her hair. He shifted his hands, curled his fingers around the braids and ran them loosely down their lengths, humming as he sucked her tongue into his mouth. He ran his fingers over the contours of the braids, tracing the woven strands. She was rocking against him, slow and steady, working her hands down, pulling his shirt up and over his head.
She pushed him back in the chair and rose on her knees over him, letting the ends of her braids fall over his face. She moved down, dragging her hair over his chest. She lowered her head to kiss one of his nipples, worrying at it lightly with her teeth and he hissed her name. She smirked at him, held the end of one braid between her fingers and brushed it across his nipple, swirled it over the dark, tight skin.
"God, 'Livia." Muttered just loud enough to be heard and she smiled, kissed her way down his ribs as she slid to the floor. She rubbed him through his jeans before working his fly open and getting just enough room to get her hand around his cock and pull him out through his fly. She stroked up his shaft, teasing, running the tips of her fingers over him until his hips were rocking in time with her fingers. She curled her hand loosely at the base of his cock, the other hand catching one braid.
She brushed her hair over the head of his cock and he puffed out a harsh breath at the touch. She swirled the hair over him, dragging it through the pearly bead of moisture and painting it over his skin. She traced circles over him, teased the ridge where shaft met head. She drug her hair along him from tip to root, snickered as his hips jerked, twitching against the touch.
She caught one braid and wound it around him, spiraling up his cock and held the cord in place with her fist. He met her eyes and thrust slowly into her hand, shuddering at the slippery, shifting grip. She watched him, squeezed her hand around him, jerked him off. His eyes drifted down to her hand, to the golden mane wrapped around his cock and his breath caught in his throat then spilled out in a harsh gasp as he came.
She untangled her hair from around him, wiped her hand dry on his leg, grinned and crawled back onto his lap. Her hair stuck to his chest as she cuddled against him.
"Good?"
He nuzzled her neck. "So good. Holy shit."
She kissed his cheek, lips twitching as his stubbly beard tickled her. "Good."