The first time he thinks about kissing her, they are stood, crushed, in a crowded elevator. She's practically plastered against the wall and he's pressed, his chest against her side. He's never really been this close to her before, and his eyes sweep over her, and he shuffles closer. She looks up at him as she feels his hand come to rest on her lower back, she shrugs, putting it down to the lack of space. All he can think about is leaning down and pressing his lips against hers, to taste her. He ends up getting off the lift on the next floor, he says he's got a meeting to attend there, but in reality he just can't be in her presence in the confining space for a moment longer. He stands on the empty floor and waits for an empty carriage arrive, for it to whisk him up towards his office and the solace it brings.
Watching her berate Frank should not be arousing. At all. But since their elevator incident the week before, suddenly everything she does, everything she is, is arousing to him. He supposes it's the intrigue, he wants to know how she feels, how she tastes, because she's an enigma.
She's stood in the hallway, arms flailing as she hollers at Frank. Really, loudly yelling at him. Jack doesn't think he's ever seen her lose her temper in such a way with anyone. He contemplates going over to break the argument, but he finds himself frozen.
She's not even dressed in anything remotely revealing or sexy. Her hairs pulled back in a messy ponytail, her jeans are a size too big, she's got her old TGS hoody on and the sneakers which still make him wonder about her sexuality. He's too far away to see, but he'd willing put $100 on her having some sort of food stain on her top, or scrap of food in her hair.
And all he wishes is for Frank to disappear so he can cross to her and make her shut up by pressing his lips against hers. He wonders if her lips would respond straight away, or if he'd have to coax her, brush his tongue against her lips making her open them too her. He wonders whether the anger would translate into a furious passion making her grip at him, grasping at him.
He shakes the images from his head, and ducks into the nearest restroom, needing to get away from her.
When he invites her to a party hosted by the NY Post, he doesn't really think about what she'll be wearing. He issues the instruction that yes, she does have to dress up, and leaves it to Jenna to sort out. He doesn't let his mind picture what she'll be wearing because lately, he's been picturing her far too much. He presumes it'll be an outfit similar to the dress she'd worn for Gerhardt's birthday, however when he picks he up he finds her dressed in something completely different. While before she had been elegant and discreet, this time she's sleek and.. sexy. The dress is shorter, knee length, and black and tight.
He swallows, his mouth suddenly dry, it's all he can do to say "You look beautiful."
She snorts in reply and shakes her head and he grins at her total ignorance of her beauty. When they walk into the party, his hand on her back, he's totally aware of the looks sent their way.
He looks over at her, she's already managed to snag food from one of the passing wait staff and she's bringing it to her lips. Lips which are stained a rich, deep, blood red, and he wonders if he kissed her would it stain his lips too.
He's been avoiding her for weeks. Of course he can't totally avoid her, they work together so it's hard to write her out of his life completely, but he makes sure that they only spend time meeting to discuss the show. He doesn't invite her up to his office, he doesn't visit the set, he doesn't check up on the writers. He does let Jonathon turn her away when she comes up to visit him if they haven't got a meeting arranged. He knows he's being childish, and she's confused by him and what he's doing, but he can't help it.
He's 50 years old and suddenly feeling like a teenager, being ruled by his hormones. Suddenly she's not just Liz Lemon to him, the geeky, nerdy writer. Suddenly she's Liz Lemon, sexy, hot and enchanting. Of course, she hasn't suddenly changed, she still wandered around with food stained clothes, but now, instead of finding it disgusting, he finds it intriguing.
When his lips finally do crash down against hers, his hands faming her face, she's in her PJs with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Which then falls to the floor as he walks her backwards in to her apartment and presses her against her living room wall.
He wasn't meant to be at her place, he was meant to be at a fancy party in town which he hadn't asked Lemon to be his date to. But when he'd got into the Limo and looked at the empty space beside him he'd realised he didn't want to go alone. He wanted Lemon there. He needed Lemon. He'd told his driver to go to her place and she'd opened the door to see him standing, rocking on his feet, dressed in his tuxedo.
To her credit, for once in her life she'd managed not to laugh in his face. Perhaps because she could read the troubled look on his face. Instead she'd just frowned at him a little and asked why he was there.
In return he'd shrugged. He didn't know how to say why he was there, hell, he still didn't know why he was in a way. He hadn't given much thought on the journey over as to what the plan was once he arrived. He'd just known he had to see her. He certainly hadn't imagined that she'd answer the door with her PJs on and a blanket slung over her shoulders, but then, Lemon always had surprised him.
And now he was pressing her against the wall, his hands dropping to her flannel top, unbuttoning it and parting it enough for him to stretch forward, brushing his lips against her collarbone. She lifts a leg, wrapping it around him, and he lets her pull his hips closer. He reaches up, shrugging out of his jacket, and pulling his bow tie free. Their hands work in sync, ridding each other of their shirts completely. His fingers push at her bottoms, pushing them down until they pool at her feet and she kicks them away. He kisses her, her lips pushing back against his and he can feel her hands undo his belt, unbuttoning his trousers, and sliding the zipper down. He pushes her hands away, smoothing his hands across her stomach before he pushes his trousers open enough to push them and his boxers down far enough to free himself. He returns his hands to her skin, one hand cupping a breast whilst the other slides to the apex of her legs. She groans against his mouth as his fingers brush through her curls and a digit drags across her opening. He pushes in, dragging his finger in and out, spreading her wetness as he feels her warmth contract around him, pulling his finger deeper.
"Jack." It's the first time either of them has spoken in a while, and he looks up, his eyes connecting with hers. "Jack." She repeats his name, and by the look in her eye he can tell she's ready for him.
She's biting her lip, her cheeks flush and he presses his lips to hers. He feels like he's going to explode as he lifts her up, her body wedged between his and the wall. He can feel one of her legs wrap around him as he positions himself at her entrance. She slowly slides down until their hips are flush and he struggles for control. He nips at her neck as he thrusts up into her and he's surprised at how responsive she is. Every moan, soft as they are, spurs him on and he moves faster. He knows his breath is heavy, and he's grunting through exertion but he doesn't care. He knows he's close and he can feel her tightening walls so he's pretty sure she's close too. He uses the last of his energy to lift her higher, moving his hips faster and finally, finally he's there. He feels her contract around him as his world explodes in an explosion of white light, and hears his blood rushing in his ears.
He slips from her and she sinks to her feet, supporting each other up against the walls whilst their breaths slow.
"What.. what is this?" she asks.
He doesn't reply straight away, he just reaches up, stroking her cheek bring his face closer to hers.
"It's.. It's us Lemon." He says, and he's not sure if that's good enough but as his lips press against hers, she responds so he decides that it must be enough for now.