AUTHOR: Sugah Sugah
SUMMARY: It's the wedding night. How much of a summary do you need?
SPOILERS: General season 2
PAIRING: Let me think about that for about .0000001 seconds.
RATING: T – I'm not good at smut, so consider this smut lite. Half the calories of regular smut, but hopefully tastes just as good.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, blah blah blah. Yada yada yada. Etcetera…
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Fourth in the Elvis series, and based on my third favorite Elvis song. I'm just cranking these things out, aren't I? Too bad I can't be this motivated with my other fics.
This is for all of you who asked for it. Thank you for reading. You rock. And if you hate me by the end of this, just remember that more are coming!
New favorite phrase: A-game.
If you like what you read, hit "submit review" and let me know! I thrive on spoilers and reviews!
After what was undoubtedly the longest hour and seventeen minutes of Lindsay's life, she and Danny finally managed to make it back to their motel, only because Lindsay had the foresight to enter the Vegas guys' phone numbers into her cell in the event that they got separated sometime during their celebration. Danny had only relented to calling one of them – Lindsay couldn't remember his name, he was in her phone as "Texas guy" – after forty-five minutes of wandering up and down the strip, searching for familiar surroundings. Not that she in any way minded the spectacular view of Danny's ass to which she was being treated, but all the blood was beginning to rush to her head, and it was starting to make her dizzy.
Strangely enough, no one gave them odd looks or commented on their situation. She supposed that stranger things had happened in Las Vegas.
She heard Danny on the phone with Texas guy, relaying him information about their current location. She swung around as Danny turned to find the landmarks Texas guy was describing. She waved to passersby as Danny strolled farther up the sidewalk in order to locate the nearest cross street. Texas guy gave Danny directions back to their motel, and here they were, trudging down the hallway at last.
Danny had carried her the entire way. She would never doubt his stamina again. She only hoped he wasn't too tired. It was their wedding night, after all, and she'd heard far too many rumors about Danny's performance to be satisfied with anything other than his A-game.
He fumbled with the key to the room and kicked the door open, then unceremoniously dumped her on the bed he'd been sleeping in for the past three nights. She bounced on the bed and settled to a stop as he went back to the door, stuck the "do not disturb" sign on the knob, and slid the chain over. Then he turned to face her, his hands braced on the door.
"Danny…" she said, but she didn't get much farther than that, because Danny had taken off running, leapt in the air, and landed on top of her with so much force that the bed bounced again, flinging both of them off. Lindsay went one way, smacking her foot off the wall, and Danny went the other, banging his head on the bedside table.
"Shit!" Danny said, bringing his hand to his forehead, where a small gash was visible, just above his eye. "That fucking hurt!"
Lindsay crawled back onto the bed, barely able to contain her laughter, even though her foot was throbbing. "Smooth, cowboy," she said, and some giggles slipped through before she could stop them. The stunned look on Danny's face was priceless. She was half tempted to dig out her cell phone and snap a picture to send to all their friends. "Very graceful."
"Just a little overenthusiastic is all," he said with a grunt, pulling his hand away from the cut. It was bleeding, but not much. He most likely wouldn't even need stitches. Just Neosporin and a band-aid. He looked up at her from his spot on the floor, and his eyes darkened immediately to a smoky cobalt blue that immediately shattered any resistance she may have offered him. "Can you blame me?" He shifted to his knees, his hands on the mattress. "You know how long I've been waiting to…do what we're about to do?"
She had a pretty good idea what his answer was going to be. She just wanted to hear him say it. So she decided to tease him a bit. "Since I had my hand down your pants?" she asked with a smile, making sure her tongue just barely poked out from between her teeth. "Men are so easy."
He grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her along the bed until their faces were just inches apart. Her breathing automatically hitched at the look of pure lust in his eyes. He was looking at her like he couldn't wait to rip off all her clothes. And she couldn't wait to let him. "No," he said, lightly running his finger down her arm, taking the strap of her tank top with it. "That's not what I was going to say."
She shivered. Noticeably. Because the grin on his face was just too delicious, and she knew where this was going to lead.
"I was going to say," he said, sliding the other strap down her arm, "that I have been wanting to do this since the moment I first saw you."
He lowered her to the bed and moved so that he was straddling her, but he wasn't resting his weight on her hips, like she hoped. She was simply lying between his knees. She struggled to breathe. "You didn't even like me," she said.
He shook his head, slipped his fingers underneath the hem of her shirt, and began to slide it up her stomach. "There was just something about you holding that tiger's head that was such an unbelievable fucking turn on." He pushed her shirt up over her breasts, then wedged one hand between her and the mattress so that he could lift her shoulders enough off the bed to remove her shirt completely. He tossed it over his shoulder; it caught on one of the lamps on the wall above the bedside table.
He lightly skimmed his fingers down her sides, and she whimpered. Her hips arched off the mattress involuntarily, desperately seeking his, searching for something to relieve the pressure that was beginning to settle in her pelvis.
"Danny," she said, "please."
He laughed, low and deep. "You think I'm gonna let you get away with what you put me through at the chapel?" He kissed her, moving his mouth slowly over hers, but when she sought to deepen the kiss, he pulled away. He moved his head, blew a warm breath onto her ear, then said, "Turnabout is fair play."
He pressed a light kiss just below her ear, and she moaned. "You're the devil."
He shot her a devilish grin. "That's me."
And then he kissed her again, and she ceased to think.