Goodness. So much effort, and only a few hundred words to show for it. Clearly my muse is still missing in action. Was unsure if I should post such a small, odd piece, but maybe if I do I can get back into the swing of things and finish my WIP. Well, that, and I couldn't sleep. So what the hell, I'm going for it. Thanks so much for reading.
They fought for hours, long after work ended; the topic important enough that neither would give way. His hot temper and her arrogance finally pushed them both too far, and she stalked to the couch with a blanket and her fury to keep her warm. Alone in their bed, he lay on his back and stared angrily up at the ceiling.
An hour later, he turned his head at a sound from the doorway. She stood rigid, a mutinous expression firming her lovely features. Reluctance lined every inch of her frame.
With an impatient sigh, he confronted her. "What?"
"I'm still mad at you." Her tone was accusatory and sullen, yet she padded closer. Unwillingly. Her inner struggle was plain to see, as plain as if she was made of glass.
His jaw tightened. "Yeah...?"
"I still think you're wrong."
A few more steps and she was nearly by his side. And now he could see her better, watch her as she crossed her arms and glowered down at him. "I get that."
She started to speak. Stopped. Started and stopped again as anger and acceptance twisted her features. Finally she spoke, spitting the words at him challengingly. "I don't want to sleep out there."
His heavy-lidded eyes darkened. Quickly he lifted one strong arm, pulling the sheet back and waiting for her.
She didn't keep him waiting long. With barely a second's hesitation she stepped forward and knelt on the bed. When she moved to slide past him, the press of his hand on her back brought her down onto him instead. Limbs tangled and bodies heated.
"Where you going...c'mere." He pressed her closer, large hands sliding behind her and under her nightshirt to cup her softness.
"I'm going to bed." Her soft words mingled with his, but despite them, she made no move to leave. Slender, seeking fingers crept to his shoulders and curled tight.
"That's not why you're here. It's not the bed. It's this, baby..." Lazily he ground against her, lapping at her neck until she finally trembled. "...it's us."
Sliding slowly against him, she rested her forehead on his and dug her nails into his skin. "You're wrong. I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do. We can be mad at each other, but..." His hands caressed her curves possessively. "...we still want this."
With a sigh, she sank lower onto him, her mouth seeking his. "Yes," she whispered. "I want this."
I know the ending seems a bit abrupt, but that was where it told me it wanted to end. Just a little snippet, a little tiny snapshot of BB at a pivotal moment. Thanks again for taking the time to read.