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Bobbi’s trying to focus on the, well, subpar meal in front of her but it's a little difficult to concentrate when Lance’s fingers are sliding higher and higher up her thigh. He stops suddenly, fingers achingly close to where she wants them most, and she's got a white-knuckled grip on her fork. She can't even feel the pain as it bites into her palm, all she can focus on is the searing heat of his fingers and how the air between them is suddenly suffocatingly thick.
“Pay the bill,” she grits out, dropping her fork with a loud clatter, and she pushes herself out of the booth, ignoring the way her legs tremble for a split second. “Bathroom. Now.” He gives her a shit-eating grin as he pulls out his wallet, and she turns on her heel, storming out the door.
It’s not the best diner in the world; it's a shitty little hole in the wall in the middle of nowhere. All they really cared about was food that didn't come from a microwave or bag, and some honest-to-god coffee, even if it was made by someone with a heavy hand - Bobbi can still feel the grit on her tongue.
The diner’s bathroom is outside the actual building, with a metal door that sticks and rattles loudly when it finally creaks open. Bobbi’s already been in here once, and she swore she was never setting foot in there again.
She would've kept her word if Lance hadn't decided it had been too long since they almost got a public indecency charge.
The door hasn't even shut when he's shoving it open again, staring her down with a hungry gaze. She closes the space between them in a few steps and presses him up against the wall, fusing her mouth to his. His hands settle low on her hips and he tugs her closer still, and she hums when she feels his dick press up against her thigh, searing hot even through all the layers between them.
Lance’s mouth doesn't even leave hers as he stoops to pick her up, fingers spread out under her thighs as he stumbles toward the sink. Once she's perched on the sink, she plants her hand in the middle of his chest and shoves.
“Lock the door,” she pants, chest heaving as she reaches for the hem of her shirt to yank it over her head. Her arms are tangled in her shirt when she hears a metallic click, and, not even three seconds later, he's burying his face in her chest. He roughly tugs at the cup of her bra as he sucks a bruise into the swell of her breast. Bobbi manages to wriggle a hand free, immediately threading her fingers into his hair to keep him close. He scrapes his nails over the delicate skin of her breast as he closes his lips around her nipple, and she lets out a quiet whimper and hitches her leg higher up on his hip.
“How dirty do you think the floor is?” Lance mumbles into her sternum and she laughs breathlessly, suddenly wiggling out of his grasp. She flips their positions before he can even blink, sinking to her knees and reaching for his belt buckle.
“Doesn't seem too dirty to me,” she says, smiling up at him all coy and innocent, and he groans, head falling back. Bobbi gets his fly open and leans in to mouth at his cock through his boxers, while yanking blindly at his jeans until they're around his thighs.
His arm squeaks against the sink as he props himself up, his other hand sinking into her hair, fingers tangling in the strands. She lets the tips of her fingers trail along the hem of his boxers, dipping beneath to trace over his hip bones.
There's already a wet spot forming on his boxers and she grins before licking over it. She looks up as she lets out a quiet moan, only to be outdone as Lance lets out one that reverberates off the walls, echoing around them in the tiny room. The hand in her hair twitches, nails scraping over her scalp, and she pulls his boxers down.
His cock bobs up and she drags the flat of her tongue along the underside, and he falters a little, thighs trembling. Bobbi curls her fingers around the base of his cock as she takes him into her mouth, tongue flicking just below the head. His cock is heavy on her tongue, stretching her lips open almost uncomfortably, and she realizes she doesn’t do this enough. It makes her feel rather complacent, to be on such a vulnerable position, down on her knees, yet she’s still taking him apart with nothing more than her mouth. A bit of precome leaks onto her tongue, and she groans softly, pulling off and savoring the bittersweet cloying taste. Lance’s fingers hook under her chin and he tugs her to her feet once more, arms winding around her waist as he licks into her mouth.
“Remind me to get more pineapple in the next town,” he murmurs and Bobbi can’t help but laugh, tossing her head back. He takes the opportunity to drag open-mouthed kisses up her neck, taking her earlobe between his teeth and worrying it harshly. A breath shudders out of her and she yanks at his shirt, shoving him away long enough to tug it over his head and throw it across the room.
Lance twists them around, pushing her up against the sink, and she whines as his dick presses into her hip. He chuckles lowly as he fiddles with the zip of her shorts, shoving them down to puddle around her ankles as soon as he can. Bobbi doesn’t hesitate to turn around, now facing the grimy mirror, smirking as she bends forward and sticks her ass out. He leans over her and kisses up her spine, unhooking her bra while she grinds back against him, tucking her chin into her chest and moaning.
“Enough with the goddamn teasing,” she growls, sliding a hand down between her thighs and grabbing his cock. She squeezes roughly, grinning when it jumps in her hand, and she drags the head along her panties, eliciting a low moan from him. His hips jerk forward, the head of his cock slipping against her clit with the slightest pressure, just enough to make her arch her back with a quiet whimper.
She tugs her underwear to the side, gripping the sink with her other hand. Lance pushes into her without any warning, hips snug up against her ass as he grips her waist, fingers pressing bruises into her skin as he holds her close.
“Shit, little warning next time,” she giggles breathlessly and he leans down, kissing between her shoulder blades as he tries to hold back for a bit. Bobbi drops her head to her arm and moans quietly, trying to hold herself steady as he fucks into her. His hands settle on her hips, pulling her back in time with his thrusts. The sound of skin on skin bounces off the walls, competing with the sink creaking as she leans on it, her legs trembling with the effort to support herself.
“Hunter, I-.” He slides his palm up her back, until he can fist his hand in her hair, and she curses as he tugs, forcing her to look up in the mirror. The shit-eating grin on his face is contagious and she smiles back as she palms her breast, digging her nails into the soft flesh. “More.”
Lance yanks on her hair to pull her head close to his, and his teeth close over her earlobe, tugging on the sensitive flesh. Bobbi slams her hands down on the sink as she tries to support herself, to no avail. The only reason she’s still upright is because of his arm, wound around her waist tightly, holding her close.
She slips one hand between her thighs, fingers shaking as she rubs at her clit, no finesse to it at all, just a desperate need to get off. “Harder,” she pants, letting her head loll to the side, eyelids fluttering shut as she feels sparks tingle throughout her body, her stomach feeling tight.
Growling, he sinks his teeth into her shoulder and scrapes them sideways until he’s biting down around where her pulse beats strongest in her neck. He bites and sucks and licks until the skin’s hot and throbbing under his tongue, a dark bruise already starting to form when he pulls back.
Bobbi squirms as she feels that edge grow closer, tucking her chin into her chest as her hips buck wildly, trying to find that perfect friction. His fingers slide from her hair to her throat, tugging her head up so she looks in the mirror once again. Lance drives his hips into hers and tightens his fingers around the sides of her throat, burying his face into her hair. She watches in the mirror as he squeezes his eyes shut, hips losing rhythm but picking up in speed. He manages a few more erratic thrusts before spilling into her, pressing her up against the sink, his hand twitching tighter around her neck. That slight edge of pain is all it takes to send her spiralling over the edge, coming with a voiceless shriek.
The hand on her throat disappears suddenly and Bobbi slumps forward onto the sink, arms too weak to support herself any longer. She coughs weakly as she gasps for breath, spots dancing in her vision.
“Bob?” Lance’s hands skim over her sides frantically, mimicking the panic in his voice. “Bobbi?”
“M’fine,” she rasps, pillowing her head on folded arms, waiting for the world to stop wobbling. He presses his forehead to her shoulder, peppering kisses along the smooth expanse of her back. After a few minutes, she lifts her head, meeting his gaze in the mirror, a dreamy giggle escaping her lips.
“Fucking hell,” she laughs, letting her eyes slip shut once more.
“Sorry,” he offers sheepishly into her neck, and she pats the arm wrapped gently around her waist.
“Gonna be honest here...” Lance looks up, tucking her shoulder under his chin and cocking his head to the side. “Not entirely sure if I can walk.” He snorts and nuzzles the sensitive spot below her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Okay, no more of that, or we’ll never get out of here.”
He lets out a petulant sigh, pushing his bottom lip out, and Bobbi rolls her eyes, smiling in spite of herself. She can feel him inside her still, his hips still flush against hers, and she makes a face as she reaches back to nudge at his hip, hoping he’ll get the idea. Lance takes a step back, and both of them choose to pointedly ignore the whine she lets out at the sudden emptiness.
They redress, still oddly in-sync. He hands her some toilet paper without even thinking as he tugs his underwear back into place. She fixes her bra, exhaling softly as the band stops digging into her ribcage, checking in the mirror just to make sure.
“Hunter.” He looks up at the harsh tone of her voice, feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Her lips are pursed, arms crossed under her breasts, pushing them up, and he feels his gaze drop before he forces himself to look up once more, cheeks heating up. “How in the hell am I supposed to hide this?”
She points at her neck and he frowns, stepping closer to get a better look. There’s a hickey on the side of her neck, teeth marks barely visible, and he covers his mouth with a hand, trying to hold back his laughter. Bobbi rolls her eyes and heaves a sigh, glaring at him. “Not that. This.” She tilts her head to the side and he sees it – a faint outline of his hand, the ovals on the sides of her throat more pronounced.
“Oh shit.” His face turns bright red and she can’t help but laugh, looping one arm around his neck and pulling him in.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she murmurs, kissing him softly.
“I mean,” Lance says, palm resting in the small of her back, “we could always hide away until it fades.”
Her lips curl into a smirk and she hums lowly. “Guess you’d better find us a place to stay.”