Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.
~Part Fifteen of Fifteen: The Next Step~
"That's getting really annoying," I said, squeezing the hot hand of the sweaty Vulcan lying next to me.
"I am merely pointing out that you have said the same word eleven times."
I glanced over at him and was inordinately pleased to see that his chest was still heaving.
"You could say it, too," I pointed out.
"That was a most satisfying experience."
"You say the sweetest things," I said, not even close to meaning it; but not caring, either.
"I merely cited the truth; that you found the statement 'sweet' is a welcome, if unintended, outcome."
"I was being sarcastic," I pointed out, wondering how he was able to make anything he said sound so sexy.
"I recognized the tone," he replied, squeezing my hand.
I tried to figure out if I had regained enough strength to roll over and kiss him.
I settled for bringing his hand to my lips.
I sighed, staring blissfully at him; he stared back. I enjoyed the not-actual-silence of the room; I could hear his heart and his breath, both still a little faster than normal.
The computer chirped, destroying the peace; "Incoming message from Starfleet Academy: Gaila, Cadet."
"Denied," Spock said instantly.
It was 0600 hours in San Francisco; Gaila wouldn't give up that easily.
The Idiot Squad.
There were people outside of this room, this bed, that wanted to talk to us.
There were four people in this hotel that were going to be looking for us very soon.
"Spock," I said, trying to disengage my hand from his and get to clothes, a communications device, anything.
His grip tightened. "I can think of nothing at this moment that is reason enough to induce me to release your hand."
"Would the fact that my teammates, your students, are going to be pounding on my door any second now be reason enough?" I wrenched my hand free and rolled towards the edge of the bed.
Arms like iron grabbed my waist and spun me up, around and onto a naked, sweaty, glorious body.
I blinked stupidly down into his face, dazed by the rapidity of his movements, the strength behind the ease with which he had maneuvered me and the desire behind all of it.
He cleared the hair from my face, "Nyota, I communicated with the remainder of your classmates while you, I believe the colloquialism is, 'slept it off;' they plan on spending the day recovering from the excesses of last night." His lips twitched and his hands began to dance along my spine. "I am obligated to note that none of them imbibed quite as excessively as you did."
He continued, "I told them that you were in need of rest and recuperation and were not to be disturbed. I further informed them that I would be in meditation all day. We are to meet them for dinner at 1800 hours. Neither of us will be missed."
His hands stopped moving. "If you wish to leave this bed, I will not stop you; I, however, have no such desire."
I captured the tip of his ear in my teeth and was gratified by the immediate change in his breathing. As I released the delectable bit of skin, I whispered, "I have no desire to leave this bed, either."
His fingers started sliding over my skin again as I pushed my face back from his. "You lied to your students?"
His eyebrows drew together. "No. When I spoke to them I believed you were in need of a period of uninterrupted rest as I had concluded that you were suffering from an acute stress reaction."
"And you were going to meditate because meditation is the most fun thing you can do," I said, dipping my head so I could lick his clavicle.
"I can think of many activities that are more fun than meditation." He made fun sound like a bad word.
"I realize saying fun is hard for you," I said, abandoning his clavicle so I could kiss his neck. "I will reward you for that later."
He pulled my head up and kissed me deeply. After several heady minutes, he released me and I met his smoldering gaze.
"So you're sure they really won't miss us? They're not going to come looking for me?" I asked.
"They have no reason to. I believe I was promised recompense for using the word fun?"
I smiled, and nibbled his neck and was rewarded by a sharp breath and an entirely delicious moan.
"Incoming message from Starfleet Academy: Gaila, Cadet."
"Denied," we said in unison.
I removed my lips from his neck so I could smile down into his face; it was gentle and tender. I allowed myself the pleasure of getting lost in his eyes.
"I found your non-regulation clothing to be quite stimulating," he murmured, playing with a piece of my hair.
"I'll make sure to dress similarly in the future."
"Perhaps when it is just you and I."
Oooh, jealous Vulcan.
"Only if you play more of your songs for me," I countered.
His fingers had found my earlobes. "I am amendable to such an agreement."
"Incoming message from Starfleet Academy: Gaila, Cadet."
"Denied and disable all incoming message alerts," he said.
"You do take care of everything," I said, as his fingers began to trace the whorls of my ears.
"I endeavor to do so."
I wiggled against him and nibbled on his jaw; his fingers plowed into my hair, pulling my lips and teeth closer to his skin.
"Are you going to enjoy me again, Nyota?" he asked, his voice sending shivers of arousal through me. I had never dreamed that his voice could be so full of desire and need.
I could feel his body hardening, his hands tightening.
All signs point to yes.
I picked my head up so I could look at him; his eyes were hot, melting chocolate brown.
"Spock, I plan on enjoying you for a very long time," I said, my fingers beginning to drift down his intoxicating body.
He growled a little, a noise that had shocked me the first time, but that had quickly become very familiar. "I look forward to that."
Dr. Flenderson, you were a genius!
~~The story continues in What Would Doctor Flenderson Do?~~