The Silent Stars Go By
“Please come back to bed.”
“I will in a minute.”
More than a minute passed, but with no sign Methos was going to do as he said. He continued to stand, naked, looking out one of the deep window embrasures on the far side of the bedroom.
“For god’s sake, Methos! While it’s not that I don’t appreciate the view, --” and she truly did. He had a beautiful body, and here in the dim pre-dawn light, his lean frame and well-defined muscles made him seem like a marble sculpture come to life. She never tired of just watching him. “-- I’m getting cold just looking at you!” Triona pulled the quilts on the bed around her just a little tighter, shivering, regardless of their warmth, in the cold air. He glanced back, flashing her a quick amused smile before turning back to his contemplation of… whatever it was.
Sighing, she finally asked, “What is it?”
“Ooh, you’re such a funny guy.” Grumbling to herself over the stubbornness of men in general, and really old Immortals in particular, she rolled out of bed, taking a comforter with her. Cocooned in down, she hissed as her bare feet hit the frigid floor, the carpet covering it doing very little insulate her feet from the cold that seeped up from the stones underneath.
Scurrying over to Methos, she stood on the edge of the comforter, enfolding him in her arms and the bed cover. “You’re cold,” she complained as she pressed against his back, laying her cheek against his shoulder.”
“Not from where I’m standing.” His soft chuckle vibrated against her as he turned in her arms, pulling her firmly against him. Leaning down to take her lips with his, he murmured, “Not cold at all.”
He kissed her slowly, with no urgency, his cool fingertips running up and down across her back, leaving a path that was almost like little sparks of electricity in their wake. Okay, maybe he had a point. She was definitely not feeling quite so cold anymore.
Pressing his lips against each of her closed eyes in turn, he whispered, “Is there a reason we’re standing out here in the cold when we could be in our nice warm bed?” His voice was practically awash with wicked amusement.
Eyes snapping open, she gave him a look. “You are so dead. You know that, right?” Triona declared firmly, before shrieking as he unexpectedly scooped her into his arms, carrying her back to the bed, his eyes dancing with merriment.
“No, I’m not,” he said unconcernedly.
“Awfully confident, aren’t you?” she asked with a quirk of her brow as he laid her down.
“Always,” he replied as he crawled in next to her, pulling the covers over them both. “But in this case, --“ he drew her closer, his hands beginning to caress her, “-- I think I’m fairly safe.”
“Oh yeah?” she managed to get out between a gasp as his fingers found just the right spot.
“Yeah.” He smirked. “Unless you’re into necrophilia.” Pausing, he looked down at her. “You aren’t, are you?” he asked, looking terribly serious.
Several replies battled for preeminence, but she finally settled on an exasperated, “I give up!”
“Always the correct answer,” he told her, a smug smile plastered across his face.
Rolling her eyes in fond irritation, she kissed him, and then said, “You’re just damn lucky you’re good in bed, or I’d so be turning you in for a newer model.”
He traced a thumb across her lips. “I’ll do my best not to become obsolete.” His lips replaced his thumb, as he set about proving it.
To be continued
I'll try and add more as the weekend progresses, assuming y'all want more, of course!
Jan. 1, 2007: Part Two