Chapter Text
The walk to the library/museum was chilly. Jessie cursed herself for wearing a sweater dress and knee-high boots instead of pants, and she was grateful to finally push through the doors and step into the warmth by the time she made it there.
She smiled at Gunther, the strange museum curator she sometimes dropped off items for.
“Morning, Jessie! Anything good for me today?”
“Sorry, just coming in to read today.”
“Well, you know where to find me.”
She walked in, thrilled and terrified to find the place empty save for herself and Elliott, who she spotted at a table half-hidden behind a bookshelf.
“Jessie, hello!” He smiled at her, motioning her over. She peeled her jacket off as she approached, sparks igniting in her stomach at the way his eyes trailed down her frame.
She sat next to him, pulled her notebook and pen from her bag, and flashed him a grin. He handed her a takeout coffee.
“I'm afraid its from the Saloon, so it's not the best,” he said, taking a sip of his own. “But I take it you need something warm after the walk here.”
“I appreciate it,” she said, taking a sip. He was right, it wasn't very good. But she was freezing.
She gave him a once-over. He was wearing a cream coloured, tight fitting sweater, a simple pair of black jeans, and brown boots. His hair was back up in that high pony tail. He was gorgeous, and the way he dressed just accentuated his body even more.
“So,” she whispered, aware of her voice echoing in the library, “what does prep work look like for you?”
He flipped his laptop towards her, showing various spreadsheets, photos of venues, and speech notes. “It's a lot of knowing what to expect and preparing for readings. My publisher wants me to do demographics research to take that into account while prepping.”
“Oh, that sounds… Riveting. How are you making out with it?”
“I feel like my brain is melting, actually.”
She giggled, opening her notebook. “Well, I’m ready to be laid bare for your scrutiny, if you can spare a moment.”
“I can spare more than one, for you.”
She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at him. Instead, she flipped to the end of the book, closer to the pieces she had written since coming to the valley.
She wasn't ready to share anything from Zuzu. Not yet, and not with Elliott. She hadn't even let Haley read them yet.
She flipped through the pages, deciding what, exactly, she was comfortable sharing with him. She felt very self-conscious, finally settling on only showing him the poem she had written that morning.
He read it over carefully, looking like he was rolling the words over in his head. Then he looked up at her, gave her a small smile, and read it a second time.
“I have to say, this wasn't what I was expecting.”
She felt her stomach fill with dread, and was regretting having come at all. But still, she said, “How do you mean?”
“Well, when you think of poetry, you think of flowery language, maybe pretty metaphors. But so much of this is… brutalistic. You have a very bleak take on new beginnings.”
She blushed, reaching for the notebook. “Well, I guess I had kind of a bleak run in with new beginnings.”
He tilted his head to the side, inquisitive. “Tell me more.”
She took a deep breath. “Well, when I first went off to college, I was so worried about my grades that I worked myself into the ground. I barely made any friends until my second year. Then when I moved to Zuzu, I did the same thing, except I never ended up making any friends, and I burned out so bad I had to take stress leave. And when I moved here, I had to go insane by myself on the farm before I let Haley introduce me to anyone.”
“Hmm,” he said, his head still cocked to the side. “It's almost like you need a rude awakening before you let yourself open up.”
“Yeah,” she muttered to herself. “Something like that.”
“Well, Jessie, for the record, I'm glad you’re here.”
He put his hand over hers, which she only then realized she had balled into a fist. She released the tension, starting in her hand, working her way up her shoulders and into her jaw.
“I think I need to learn how to relax.”
“I know a method or two,” he said, winking at her. “Would you like me to show you?”
She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but a literal walk on the beach wasn't it.
Elliott brought her down the length of the beach, the wind whipping her hair across her face. She wished she'd had the sense to tie it up like he had.
In theory, it was nice. The sound of the waves hitting the sand, the gentle cry of the gulls, and the crisp, salty taste in the air should have all been very relaxing. Unfortunately, she was dressed for the library, not for a walk on a chilly fall day.
He was in the middle of a story when he looked down at her and saw her shivering.
“Jessie, you're freezing! Why didn't you say something?”
Her teeth chattered together as she managed a small, “People pleaser?”
He tsk ed at her, then grabbed her by the hand and made for the cottage on the beach. “Come on, we can get you a sweater or something at my place.”
A minute later, they were warming up inside, and Jessie was so grateful that she almost suggested just staying in for the day.
Elliott's cottage was cozy inside, nothing like the bachelor pads she was used to seeing. The whole place was clean and inviting, the small living room tidy and bright.
“Here, come with me,” he said, still holding her hand as he led her to his bedroom. She stood in the doorway, not wanting to cross the threshold as he rooted through his closet. “I'm afraid all my clothes may be too big on you. Here, what do you think?”
He pulled out a large pull over with a faded university logo printed across the front. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “That should work.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Why don't you come try it on to make sure?”
Suddenly she was very, very warm.
She let her arms fall to her sides as she made her way across the room. She took the sweatshirt from him silently, raising an eyebrow right back at him.
“I'm sure you're very concerned with how this will fit me,” she whispered, holding the sweatshirt with one hand and placing the other on his chest.
He looped his arm around her waist, brushing his thumb along the small of her back. “I'd hate for you to change out of this pretty little dress if you don't like what I'm offering.”
“And what, exactly, are you offering?”
She met his gaze, felt his hand slip to her ass as he said, “Anything you want.”
She dropped the sweater and stood on her tiptoes to press her lips to his. He kissed her slowly and softly, gently squeezing her waist with one hand and her ass with the other. He pulled her to him, pressing her body firmly against his. She let him kiss her for a minute before she got impatient, biting his lip playfully. She wanted him to take her, bend her over his dresser and ruin her.
“Yeah?” He whispered in her ear, letting his hands roam over her body. He palmed at her breast, pulling a small moan from her. “If you want more, I'll give you more.”
She responded by peeling away from him and motioning to his bed. He smirked, settling in among his pillows and blankets and waiting.
Jessie was on him in a second, straddling him as he trailed lazy kisses down her neck. She shivered at the contact, trying to keep herself from grinding her hips into his. He nipped at her neck gently, sliding his hands up each of her thighs.
He drew back, looking at her straddling his lap, and let out a soft chuckle. “I've been thinking of seeing you like this since that party.”
She blushed as he hiked the dress up over her hips, aware that her panties were visibly soaked. He seemed to notice, too, dragging a thumb over the lace.
“So ready for me, darling,” his voice was barely a whisper. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back and moaning as he drew lazy circles around her clit.
She was embarrassed at how badly she needed him. She didn’t want to take their time, just wanted hard, filthy sex. She felt like she was burning alive. Every place he touched, he left invisible sparks on her skin.
She didn't even realize she was grinding into his hand until she opened her eyes again.
“Jessie, that's so hot,” he growled.
She was breathing hard, barely containing herself. She tore herself off his lap long enough to pull her dress off and say, “I am begging you to take your clothes off.”
He smirked at her, at how desperate she was. He made a show of taking off that sweater, unbuckling his belt, unzipping his jeans. She was ready to tear the fabric off him herself if she had to.
“You're such a tease, ” she said as he finally got his jeans off.
He smirked and pulled her back into his lap, finally giving her some release as he ground up into her through his boxers.
“You've been driving me crazy the last two weeks,” he whispered, his strong hands gripping either side of her waist. “You have no idea what you were doing to me. It's only fair that I get a turn at teasing you. ”
She let out a little gasp as he kissed her neck again, gently pushing her hair to the side. At the sound she made, he groaned, gripped her tighter. She could feel how hard he was under her and was barely managing to restrain herself.
“I thought for a second you were going to kiss me in the kitchen at the party,” she whispered, basking in the feel of his tongue on her neck. It was the closest she was going to get to admitting any of her fantasies to him today, but maybe if they did this again…
“Mmmm,” as he trailed kisses down her chest. “I thought about it, but I wouldn't have been able to stop myself. And I didn't think you'd want me doing this,” he pulled her bra down with one of those strong hands, just enough to flick at her nipple with his tongue, “in your friend's kitchen.”
Fuck, I want you doing that wherever you want to.
He moved his hand back up her back, unclasping her bra and casting it to the side. He pulled back again to look at her.
“That tattoo, right between these perfect tits…” he said, tracing the outline of her sternum tattoo with the tip of his finger. His touches were so light, so teasing, she wanted to scream. “Get on your back,” he whispered.
She did what she was told, swapping places with him on the bed. He kissed her hard and fast, then pinned her beneath him with his body as he flicked his tongue across her nipples. He pushed her panties to the side, giving himself more access to her as he went back to circling her clit with his thumb.
Choke me, bite me, smack me, she wanted to say. She was used to rougher sex, had gotten so into power play that she was getting impatient with Elliott's gentleness. She swallowed that desire, pushed those kinks to the border of her mind and tried just to focus on the feeling of him touching her.
He made it easy for her as he kissed lower, trailing his tongue down her stomach as she arched her back into him. He pulled at the hem of her panties, silently asking her to take them off. She was only too happy to oblige. When she settled back down, he was on her in an instant, taking her in with deep, long strokes of his tongue. She moaned as he circled her clit, bucking her hips up so he'd take her in deeper, harder. Suddenly she didn't care that he was being so gentle with her, not when he danced his tongue in circles around her like that. He looked up at her and stuck his tongue out, dragging it over her clit for her to see.
“Fuck, Elliott. Oh, oh, fuck.”
“Yeah? You like watching while I eat this pussy?”
She moaned again, pulling his hair. “God, you have a filthy mouth.”
She pushed his head back between her legs, delighting in the feeling of him. He continued his work until she was flustered, begging, when suddenly he pulled back, stood, pulled a condom from his nightstand. He looked at her and grinned, pulling down his boxers and finally, finally letting her get a look.
She balked at the sheer size of him, at the view of him stroking himself as he put the condom on. Yoba, he was huge , and if the way he went down on her was any indication of the way he'd fuck her…
She sat up, looked at him and said, “I need you to fuck my brains out right now.”
He was there, positioning himself between her thighs, teasing her with just the tip as she begged and whimpered for him.
“That's so good, baby,” he gasped, watching her twitch for him, “Yeah, that's so good.”
He kept teasing her, offering her some release and pulling it back, until she was ready to cry she wanted it so bad.
“Please,” she begged, “please, I need it so bad.”
“Yeah?” He grinned down at her. “Yeah, you need this cock? You need me to fuck you til you cum all over me?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
With that, he finally pushed into her, burying himself in her. She inhaled sharply at the feeling of him inside her.
“Is this okay?” he asked, whispering.
She groaned, responded, “Yes, yes, please , fucking ruin me.”
He pulled back, thrusting into her again, and again, and again. She finally gave herself over to sensation, handing herself and her sense of dignity over to him as he fucked her like her life depended on it. He gave her a steady, relentless pace, groaning with every move of his hips. She couldn’t do anything but stare at him, his hair falling out of his ponytail, the sweat gathering on his brow, the way his muscular stomach tightened after a particularly hard stroke…
“Jessie, darling, I'm close,” he said, propping one of her legs up over his shoulder. He leaned forward and pushed a hand on her lower abdomen, the added pressure pulling an honest to God scream from her. “Oh, just keep making those sounds, Jessie, you've got me right there.”
She couldn't have stopped even if she wanted to. “Elliott, baby, you fuck me so right. Please, cum for me.”
He growled as he delivered a final, hard stroke, and the sight of him cumming in her was almost enough to get her there, too. He bucked into her and let out a long breath before pulling out, his face red and his hair messy.
Before she could say anything, he had his lips back on her pussy, his tongue darting over her playfully. He pulled away just long enough to say, “Let me see what you look like when you cum.”
It didn't take her long after that, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to pull her over the edge. As she finished, she pulled his hair, keeping him exactly where he needed to be to see that orgasm through.
She was whimpering when she let go of him, unable to open her eyes. She felt him settle down next to her on the bed, felt him trace his fingers over her sternum tattoo again.
“How was that, darling?”
Her eyes shot open and she rolled onto her side to face him, finding him looking quite pleased with himself. She smirked, reaching forward to tuck an errant bit of auburn hair behind his ear.
“I'd leave a good review.”
His laughter was a low rumble, threatening to shake the bed frame. He looped an arm around her waist, pulled in to kiss her forehead.
“You seem to have warmed up, at the very least.”
She swatted his arm and grinned at him, moving in closer to let him hold her.
They spend the afternoon in bed, chatting about his book, her poems, and life on the farm in between rounds two and three.