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Just a little something to take the edge off until next Wednesday!
Picks up (kind of) during the final moments of S3E6 in the bathroom following Conrad’s surfboard wipeout.
Belly sat on the edge of the porcelain bathtub, breath caught in her throat while her eyes stayed locked on the striking blue-green irises in front of her. She gave herself the freedom to get lost in them, not resisting the urge to look down at his full lips either. It felt like she was on fire, and he wasn’t even touching her. When she looked back to those deep, beckoning eyes she tilted her head slightly, slipping back into flirting with him so easily.
Conrad hadn’t dared to look away from her either, and she was dying to know if his shuddering breaths were coming from their proximity too, or just the shooting pain in his thigh from his wipeout. If she leaned forward just the tiniest bit, they would be kissing, and the thought thrilled her more than it should have. She was weeks away from marrying his brother for crying out loud, she had chosen Jeremiah. And yet, sat here in front of the boy she had always loved, would always love, Jeremiah couldn’t have been farther from her mind.
“Belly,” he breathed, so low she almost didn’t catch it. A shiver ran through her at the memory of the last time he’d uttered her name in his low, bedroom voice.
“Yeah?”
“Can you help me up? I’m gonna go take a nap.”
“You lost a lot of blood,” she managed, eyeing his lips again. “I just feel like you shouldn’t be sleeping.” There are plenty of other things you could do instead, like me she tacked on mentally.
“That’s for concussions,” he corrected, shutting his eyes against the pain. Look at me, she wanted to scream, then he did.
“Okay.”
He was heartbreakingly, devastatingly beautiful, it was overwhelming. In the last few weeks here at Cousins, she’d dutifully resisted the urge to simply stare at him and risk getting caught up in the dream that was Conrad Fisher like she always did. But in this moment to deny herself felt like the worst crime. She sat mesmerized by his bright eyes, the stubble on his jaw she knew from experience would tickle, and the dripping wet locks that never failed to make her melt. Finally, his eyes drifted down to her lips too and she knew she wasn’t alone in her wayward thoughts.
Fuck it, she thought. Belly locked her fingers into the wet hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him those last few centimeters forward, pressing her lips to his.
Conrad met her kiss eagerly, catching her waist in his hands and squeezing the fabric beneath his fingertips. It rucked her white top up so that he was brushing her bare skin, eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips. Belly leaned harder into the kiss, tugging on his hair slightly and bringing her other hand up to rove across his chest, marveling at the feeling she’d been deprived of for far too long. Rather than getting handsy in return, however, much to her dismay he pulled back and dropped his forehead to her shoulder again.
“Belly, we shouldn’t,” he started, and she could hear the pain in his voice. He was desperate, torn, his fight against the urge to keep going barely contained behind his words. It made her crazy.
“I know,” she whispered, sliding even closer despite her words. “But…I want to. I want you.”
She honestly expected more of a fight, but to her extreme satisfaction his blazing eyes lifted to her then and she knew she had won. The way his irises expanded betrayed his desire, she recognized it even now from so many years ago. The look alone was enough to undo her, and maybe him too.
He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her so close she was almost in his lap in his haste to kiss her again. His hands flew to the back of her head on instinct, stroking his fingers through her hair down to the ends. She loved it when he played with her hair, and he knew it. Conrad was always good like that, paying attention to the things she enjoyed, committing them to memory and using them to both of their advantage. It made her feel seen, known, loved.
Feeling brazen, Belly brought her hand to his chest and slowly traced the pad of one finger downward, following his happy trail down to the waistband of his swimming trunks. Conrad groaned then, a warning, and she dismissed it by continuing her trek down to palm her intended prize. His head fell forward once again, leaning into her shoulder, and Belly relished the feeling of power it brought her. Conrad was hers, he always had been and he always would be, just as she was his, no matter now much she tried to deny it.
She unhanded him only to grab the hem of her shirt, snatch it over her head and toss it to the floor. She raised an eyebrow at him while she undid her bra strap next, letting it drop too. “I want you, Conrad,” she repeated, aiming to make her intentions perfectly clear.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he praised, letting his fingertips drift upward to reacquaint themselves with her skin. She relished in the feeling of him exploring her again, struck by the feeling of reverence emanating from his touch. She had forgotten that it could feel like this, electric.
It was bizarre, feeling these things again, just as potent as she had before with Conrad. Just like that damn peach two weeks ago, being here with him like this was every bit as perfect, if not more so, than the first time. It was unsettling in the best way, a truth she couldn’t get around, bared to him as she was now. Even still, it wasn’t enough.
Belly stood abruptly, using his strong shoulders as leverage to push herself up. She swung her leg up and out of the bathtub and immediately reached for the button of her cutoff shorts.
“Belly, what are you-,” but the words died in the air when she quickly shimmied out of both them and her underwear where she stood. She would be shocked at her own boldness if she weren’t so turned on and desperate not to lose this moment with him.
Conrad’s shocked gaze tracked her movements, following the shorts all the way down to the linoleum floor. Those striking eyes took their time dragging up her now completely bare legs, and she could read each and every thought behind them. She prayed the lust would win out in the war raging in his mind.
It was awful, she knew, to feel this way, but it was undeniable. As much as she longed for him physically, just the thrill of being with him again, allowing herself to be caught up in the thought that maybe just maybe he wants her as much as she wants him, is the real drug here. Once she opened that door, there was no closing it. The mere thought of walking away right now would shatter her in more ways than one. She had the distinct feeling that it would shatter him too, and she hated the thought.
So she attempted to stack the odds in her favor just a little by leaning against the sink, praying it came off as seductive. “Please, Conrad. I want you,” she reiterated, blinking at him from beneath her long lashes.
He stood then, just a little shaky on his injured leg, and stalked towards her with purpose. She could’ve leapt for joy.
Seemingly of its own accord his body molded to hers, pinning her against the sink. Reaching behind her, she slid onto the counter top and spread her legs, making room for him to stand between them. She could feel him already hard against her and both their hands bumped into one another in their haste to push his trunks down his hips. He stepped out of them, giving them a swift kick to the side and Belly soaked up the feeling of him sliding against her bare. His lips found her neck, kissing a trail up to her jaw before claiming her lips once again. He captured her hips in each hand and pulled her closer, rubbing her in just the right way to make her jaw drop open.
“I want you more,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to let one hand drop between them and stroke her center.
She sighed in bliss, not missing the sound of the wetness his fingers found, and she couldn’t help but smirk at him. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
“Oh Isabel, you have no idea,” he countered, pressing two fingers into her suddenly. A cocky smirk found its way onto his own face at the wrecked sound it drew from her. “But I’ll show you.”
Belly was sick of talking, and the thought of teasing was beyond her at this point. She knocked his hand out of the way and wrapped her palm around his length, giving it a good pump. His smirk dropped and Belly spread her legs wider in invitation.
Logically she knew this was the point when she should tell him to go find a condom, but she couldn’t stand to wait any longer. Besides, when they slept together years ago, they hadn’t used protection, he had simply pulled out. To this day, he was the only person she’d ever done that with, and she still trusted him. He must have felt the same, because he didn’t question her when she lined him up between her thighs and locked eyes with him.
He understood what she needed and without a word. He pushed in slowly, keeping a tight hold of her hips as he slid in inch by inch. His eyes never wavered from her face, watching in awe as her jaw went slack with pleasure. She clutched at his back with one hand while the other locked into his hair. She was torn between pushing against him and pulling him forward, overwhelmed by the initial stretch of him, but dying for more.
“You okay?” He asked, pausing to stroke his fingers across her cheek. “Yeah, don’t stop,” she assured him, breathless. “I wa-“
“Want me, I know,” he grinned, cheeky. He pushed forward, settling himself completely inside her and she gasped at the fullness, holding onto him tight. “I’m yours, Belly.” She felt the simple words reverberate through her, body and soul, and knew she would never be over this man.
He started to move within her slowly, clinging to her body like he never wanted to let go. She understood his struggle to look away from her eyes, but forgave it easily since it was necessary for him to kiss her again. She held him as tightly as possible while he pumped in and out of her, enjoying the way his tongue matched the movement. He felt incredible, and the sounds of his groans and moans surrounded her like a blanket, rivaling her own. When he sped up his movements, pushing harder into her, she leaned back on one arm, surrendering herself to him knowing that he would take care of her. His hand moved up, catching the hair at the base of her skull and tugging, forcing her back to arch and allowing him to reach a new angle that made her eyes roll back in her head.
She looked back into his blazing eyes and this time she wasn’t even shocked to see the adoration in them, because she was absolutely sure the same was reflected in her own. The sheer vulnerability of it pulled the truth from her lips.
“I love you,” she moaned, unable to hold it back. She pushed his hair out of his eyes to see him more clearly. “I love you, Conrad.”
“I love you,” he answered without hesitation, shocking her. He picked up the pace of his thrusts, repeating the chant over and over in her ear while he moved.
Belly relished the words even more than the feeling of him ravishing her body, matching his chant with her own of his name. Her nails dug into his skin uncaring of the marks they would leave behind, and it occurred to her that she should be concerned too. His hands, cradling her hips roughly to pull her toward him, would almost surely leave behind bruises. She remembered all too well the little marks that could result from their love-making, and the thought alone sent a new wave of wetness between her legs. She wanted to look down tomorrow and be reminded of his hands on her, of the way it felt to have him in her arms, to have him inside her, together again. These weren’t feelings she could necessarily explain to her fiancé later, but she would deal with that when the time came.
Jeremiah was due back tonight though, wasn’t he? He could walk in the door at any moment, and the thought should terrify her, but if she were being completely honest, she didn’t have the bandwidth to care right now. All she could care about was the boy, no, the man in front of her.
His lips latched onto her neck and she felt the stinging pressure of him sucking a hickey into the skin. She couldn’t find it in herself to be mad. His hips were slamming into hers now, claiming her, and she would give him anything he wanted. Any part of her, including her heart, hell, she’d never really taken it from him in the first place.
One thing she didn’t expect, in the midst of him driving into her, was for him to move his hands from her hips in favor of tapping her shoulder. She trusted him with her body, everything he was doing was working for her so far, but she had to admit this was an odd technique.
She was on the precipice, heart racing with every push and pull of their bodies together. The sounds of his skin slamming into hers like music to her ears while they clung to one another like nothing else mattered. She was lost in his eyes, and would love nothing more than to stay right there, memorizing every bit of this moment. His sharp jaw strong, fighting to stave off his own release while he watched her take him.
“Belly,” he began, but his voice was strange, lacking the intensity of the movements he made. He repeated her name, and this time the tone was different, lacking the low timbre she expected. The realization that the voice belonged to Jeremiah was like being splashed with a bucket of cold water.
She frowned as Conrad and the beach house bathroom faded into darkness, her subconscious slipping away into wakefulness. She wanted to scream at the intrusion, the loss, and she didn’t even get to finish! Conrad would never leave her hanging like that, though to be fair, in reality, he hadn’t even allowed it to start in that bathroom. He was much stronger than she was.
“Belly, wake up,” Jeremiah persisted, shaking her shoulder once more. It took a significant amount of energy not to growl in her frustration.
“Shhh, let me sleep,” she pled, rolling over and refusing to open her eyes. She searched mentally, reaching out to try and drag the dream back to herself, but it was futile. She was awake, the dream was over, and she had to face Jeremiah. She swallowed the anger and cracked one eye open to see him. “Good morning.”
“Good morning to you, Bells. You were tossing and turning a lot, were you having a nightmare?” He prodded.
“The opposite actually,” she sighed, rubbing her thighs together. The evidence of just how turned on she had been in her dream was apparent. She would need to deal with that sooner rather than later.
“Oh, I see. Were you dreaming about me?” He quirked his brow flirtatiously, running a finger across her shoulder. And it was cute, really a good look on him, but it just wasn’t the same.
Nothing had been the same since she helped Conrad clean up his leg after his surfing accident two days ago. In all actuality, things had been different for longer than that, but she couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment when they changed. It was like she’d been asleep for some time, but she was waking up now to her real feelings. She felt more like she was cheating here, letting Jeremiah touch her and smile down at her than she had leaning in foolishly hoping Conrad would kiss her on that bathtub sill. Thankfully, Conrad had dodged her attempt, and saved her from doing something that would have irreparably hurt the sweet boy looking down at her now, but part of her still couldn’t help but wish…
She blinked those thoughts away, pasting on a smile in return at him. “Why don’t you go make us some breakfast,” she suggested, leaning up on her elbows. “I just wanna finish….sleeping. Five more minutes,” she pouted. “Then, I want a pancake,” she suggested, hoping that would keep him occupied downstairs. “A huge stack, with blueberries, please.”
Jeremiah rolled his eyes at her antics, like she knew he would. “That does sound good, but you know I’m shit at making pancakes, I always burn them. Hmm, maybe I can get Conrad off the roof to make us all breakfast,” he mused aloud.
“He can cook, right?”
“Barely,” she responded, unable to suppress a fond eye roll. If Jere noticed, he didn’t call her on it. Instead, he pressed a quick peck to her forehead then rolled out of the bed.
“I’ll see you downstairs.”
“Mhm,” she responded, rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes.
As soon as he was gone and calling out loudly to his brother, she flung herself flat on her back with a groan.
As if on cue, she heard the banging on the roof, signaling that Conrad was indeed already up and working for the day. There was no doubt in her mind that as soon as he was made aware, he’d drop everything and come down to make pancakes just because she wanted them.
Belly loved Jeremiah Fisher, but she was in love with Conrad Fisher. What the hell was she going to do? Unable to figure out an answer for the time being, she snuck one hand down the front of her pajama shorts and conjured images of blue-green eyes, strong shoulders, and romantic wet hair.
Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!