ꜱɪᴛ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ, ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ 「ᵃ ᴮᵉⁿⁿʸQ & ᴾⁱⁿᵏ. ᵖʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ」━nsfw

[Pink.]

Tommy's hand on her waist, another in her hair, his eyes piercing hers. Everything else disappeared from around her. It didn't matter that they were in the middle of nowhere, in a no-name motel room Hallmark threw up in. It didn't matter that they were only stuck here because of her boyfriend, and that they were repeating the same dance. They didn't bother to look for the iceberg because they already knew it was there, and still they drove full steam ahead.

This. Him. That was all that mattered to her. This was all that existed for her. There was only his thumb, her lips, and the taste of his kiss filling her mouth as they crashed together in time with the thunder.

His hands pulled her into him, fingers nimble as he untangled her from the miniscule bikini top before breaking their kiss to lean back. She inhaled one deep breath to fill her lungs, and that was enough. Her hands pulled him back into her as he finally freed himself of his shirt and together they rocked back against the table. His weight ground into her sex, her shoulders trapped by the corded columns of his forearms as he hovered over her. Her fingers traced the ridges of his ribs as her legs lifted to coil around his hips. This was the moment she would remember when she'd think back on this night.

He looked like a god leaning over her, the warm red glow of the lamps backlighting him like a dream. It was so strange, seeing him as the man he had become but knowing him as the boy he had been. He had grown into everything she had imagined he would and more. Her hands lifted to caress his chest, fingertips dancing over each and every brush with death he'd faced before his kiss wandered.

"Ohhh," she moaned with the flutter of her eyelashes, her breath sweeping into a sigh. Her hands slid down his arms, holding onto his wrists until his weight rocked back and his attention reached her chest. Holle couldn't help herself, she never could. Her eyes closed and her back arched to encourage him with soft, eager moans that highlighted everything she wanted more of. Her hips rolled, grinding her aching sex against his lap as her hands moved to unfasten his belt with desperate urgency.

When he lifted himself back up to her mouth, she met his kiss with white hot reciprocation. She used her feet to help kick his pants down to his knees and reached between them to cup his bulge in her palm, grinning against his kiss with a little growl of appreciation at how hard he was in his shorts. Catching his lower lip between her teeth, Holle urged him forward and over top of her. They had only half a second to realize the table wouldn't bear their full weight. With a crack, they collapsed to the floor.

Holle's shocked laughter was quick, and almost immediately melted into genuine hilarity at the absurdity of it all.

"Are you okay?" she asked through her giggles, reaching up to caress his cheek.

 

[BennyQ]

There was no thinking, no consideration. Only action. Decisive action. Where they were, forgotten. Why they were back together again, to the edges of his memory. There was still something there, on the fringes, crying out for some return to sanity and reason. They couldn’t be doing this. They shouldn’t be doing this. Yet here they were, his hands on her most intimate flesh, his mouth and tongue tasting her in places only a lover should know. And Schatzi had one already, did she not?

If it was anyone but Thomas…who cared?

His shirt was all but torn off by her eager hands, baring his hardened, toned flesh to her touch and sight. Bare chest to bare chest, hands upon one another, relishing all the comforts and familiarities they once knew and still clearly remembered. Some they never had before. Her hands explored his arms. His hands wrapped around her slender midsection. There was so much of her he couldn’t grab or hold all at once. Schatzi’s moans filled his ears, her mouth just above his head as he feasted on her chest.

She had no idea how much he lusted after this, and more beside. More below. There was no complaint, disruption or falter from him, as her hands freed his manhood soon after, until they were both completely naked. His pants went down his waist and legs and he hurriedly kicked them off his feet. Her hand drifted to his groin, feeling his heaviness, his size, making his eyelids flutter with the exciting anticipation of release. He wanted her. He needed her. Now. He had so much to give, she had no clue.

Snacks and drinks scattered to the floor as he pressed her down on the table. There was no thought for form or position. Just…take. And she wanted to be taken, the way she invited him down, and Thomas leaned heavily upon her, as if seeking to consume her through his very being. His body and heart burned so hotly in that moment he felt like he could. His hips were upon hers, his manhood grinding to her sex, pushing, thrusting, demanding. Demanding too much. His hips pressed to hers a little too hotly and suddenly…the table collapsed.

The legs cracked and jerked, breaking under the weight of their ferocious lust, causing them to free fall suddenly for a short inch or two, but the surprise of it was still enough to make Thomas’ heart jump. His lips parted in a silent gasp, before he realized what had happened, as they continued to lay together in the ruin of the table, him upon her, realization sinking into both their eyes as he peered down at her.

She laughed. And it took a slow second for it to become contagious, a similar smile forming on his own lips. He raised his eyebrows and looked down between them momentarily, then back up to her face, a light of levity in his eyes. ”I almost crushed you.” He said, referring to his much larger bulk and frame upon hers. Indeed, he was probably like a warm, comforting blanket, one that was alive and could hold her oh so closely…

Instead he reeled back onto his knees, his hands snaking under her shoulders, and with a little application of his strength, hefted her right up off the table and into his chest. One hand moved down, to wrap one of her legs around his waist, before he stood, cradling her close to form. Standing, he walked, not to the bed but to the nearby dresser, which was exactly level with his hips, and there he planted Schatzi upon it’s surface, his hips between her thighs, once more against her womanhood. Grinding, his hand caressed her neck, clutching it lightly, as he brought his lips to hers for another hot, passionate dance of tongue and mouth. Such was his energy that the wet sounds of their kissing resonated all through the room.

He was so hard and erect against her womanhood…

Only the need for breath separated his lips from hers, Thomas pressing his forehead to hers as he gasped a moment, truly flustered and breathless. He peered into her eyes and saw only his own desire reflected. He…was going to have her. No words. No warning. He reached between them and took hold of his organ, guiding it to her core, the head of it rubbing to her outer folds with a wet sound that was so vivid and sensuous. And then…there. A push, a thrust, and he was inside of her, driving in hard and deep to fill her all at once. And there, on the dresser, against the wall, spread around him, Thomas began to fuck Kennedy Monroe without restraint or care for anything else.

 

[Pink.]

"Oh, you definitely broke a rib and I will be suing," she teased, her teeth capturing the lobe of his ear as he lifted her up off the floor. With her legs clasped around his waist and her arms wrapped around his shoulders, she quickly busied herself with the exploration of his jawline and neck. She anticipated the cushion of the mattress to swell up beneath her, but Tommy set her down instead upon the dresser and a small trickle of thrill fluttered in her belly. Her lips parted with a sigh, her eyes rolling up heavily to meet his in sync with the glide of his hand up her chest and around her throat, practically purring beneath his collaring grip before his mouth captured hers in another hungry kiss.

It had been so long since Holle had felt this way, both physically and not– Tommy was a familiar anchor for her, one she had thought she had lost long ago for good, but now he was back and after a rocky beginning they were fitting back into each others lives that for one blissful stretch of moments Holle would be able to shed herself of all things Kennedy Monroe and just be with someone who knew her at her deepest levels.

But also, she didn't feel this alive with anyone else. Her fingertips and toes were tingling, her stomach was in knots, getting tighter and tighter as her chest burned and her skin ached and every fiber of her being was yearning to be filled, held, and consumed. Like there was a polarity deep within her that recognized its opposite in Thomas, and satisfaction would never be reached until they were connected again. Her stomach flexed, her thighs tightened around his hips, their bodies rolling and moving against one another until they were worked into a frenzy.

"Please–" she urged, breathless and desperate, only to be cut off by the sensation of his cock driving himself to the hilt within her sex with one swift thrust.

Stars burst, the air she inhaled catching in her throat, eyes widened and expression slack with awe, relief, discomfort and insatiable hunger for more. Those bright, shimmering spheres rolled back in her head, her teeth dragging over her lips to muffle the guttural moan of ecstasy that bubbled up from her furthest depths. Then he was pumping himself in and out of her, thrusting hard and deep and fast, boiling over with the same desperation that kept her clinging to him and urging him not to stop. She was so close so quickly, her hands clasped behind his neck as her body sagged, ass nearly hanging off the ledge of the dresser's top, legs open and thighs quivering and breasts jerking with each primal drive of his body into hers. "Don't st–don't stop–oh god–ohgodohgod–Tommy!"

Every part of her seized– tightening and clenching– her pussy gripped his swollen member like a vice as the orgasm overtook her. Her legs quivered, her teeth clenched, hands and legs and body reaching and wrapping and trembling from the overwhelming pleasure; clinging to him like a life raft in the storm just as the power blew out across the entire motel.

 

[BennyQ]

So easily, did her little joke about a broken lib, draw a laugh from his lips. The sort of laugh he hadn’t had in a long time. Oh yes, he definitely would have broken something in her if he truly had his way. And he was going to. Because he didn’t care. Thomas had dreamed of this moment, this encounter, for untold years, concealed and guarded in the recesses of his mind and heart. Now it was happening. A broken rib would be a small price to pay, hers or his. He wanted this. And so too did she.

Hands, lips, even her teeth explored his muscular frame as he took her against the wall. He was entering her, taking her, and not a single thought was spared for anything else that might exist in the world. Not his job or career. Not his ethics or morals. Not that she was a celebrity or star now. Not even the fact she had a very public boyfriend. Holle belonged to him and her whispered plea was all he needed to keep doing what he was doing.

With a very wet sound, Thomas sank his cock right into her depths and lingered her, feeling his body quake with the sensation, so immersed and embedded that he became within her. His hands rested on her sides, but one soon up and wrapped itself around her neck. Holding it. Holding her. Keeping her anchored and pinned to the wall, where he could watch, observe her reactions and expressions, as he began to fuck her.

She was in a frenzy. Like she was high on drugs. And Thomas could not be more pleased by the reaction. Oh? And what about this… His hips reeled back, berefting himself of her tight, milking sensation, before sinking himself back in with a gasp and a grunt, the momentum pressing her back hard into the wall. A few moments passed like this, Thomas locking his eyes on Holle’s, as his strong hips rolled in and out, spearing himself in deep and then back. Over and over, until the pace was vigorous and rhythmic, the slapping of their bodies resonating in the room, joining the mingling of their moans, their sighs, their grunts. Her begging.

He wasn’t going to stop. He was so, so close himself. His jaw was unhinged with his tremendous panting, forcing his hips and cock to keep going, to keep drilling, until they both met that climax together. Her hands came around his neck…and Thomas violently grabbed them and slammed her wrists up and over her head against the wall. His forehead pressed to hers, leaving only the bare space between their bodies as he fucked her to completion, hips ruthlessly pounding against hers. It was here.

”Oh fuck, fuck…fuck…Holle…ah…!” Thomas groaned, as he began to climax, so deep inside her, so recklessly without consideration or protection or anything. His hips thundered against hers, thrusting himself in deep where he unloaded his bounty, his body slamming to hers, leaving her pressed against his hot, broad form. His jaw was above her head, Thomas’ eyes shut, gasping, groaning, quivering, as seed spewed into her depths and he held her hands and arms painfully above her.

”Holle, fuck…” Thomas groaned, followed by several hard exhales and grunts, as his hips concluded his orgasm with several long, but slow thrusts into her depths, squeezing every last droplet out into her core. His tall frame towered over her, holding her, anchoring her in place by the simple squeeze and press of his body against hers, hips between her thighs, her head tucked under his jaw and his hands clutching her wrists. He…was finished. Spent. But only for now. He began to breathe and blood began to flow.

And sanity might return, if something else didn’t happen soon and fast.

 

[Pink.]

Fuck. ​

Her toes curled, eyes rolling and lashes fluttering as he took her with a decades worth of pent up aggression. His hand on her throat, his grip wrenching her arms above her head, pinning her back and thrusting himself into her with bruising force. The only thing Holle could do was lay back and enjoy it– legs splayed, thighs dimpling with every collision with his hips, body trembling from the vibrations… For the first time since moving to LA she let go.

The euphoria expanded and flooded through her veins until it coalesced into her chest as a sob. Holle felt tears burning in her eyes as she gasped for air against his chest, the overwhelming sensitivity easing into a soothing pleasure with each slow drag of his cock as he emptied himself into her. She could feel every delicious detail of him like this, gliding and massaging her inner walls until melted against him with a lascivious grin.

"Jesus Christ," she exhaled with a soft, blissful laugh; her arms crossing over his shoulders and ribs once he let her wrists go. She kept him close, nails dragging peaceful, happy lines over the muscles of his back while simultaneously keeping him close. Little aftershocks of her orgasm rippled through her, tightening her sex around his member in waves that aligned with the shudders in her breath.

It wasn't until then that she realized how dark and still the room was. Her head started to lift from his chest when lightning flashed and thunder shook the walls, framing him light and shadow as he loomed over her. He looked so goddamn divine just then– staring down at her with eyes nearly black in the night– her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach somersaulting as she acted on impulse and took his face in her hands and drew him into a deep, ardent kiss. Where desperation, hunger and need had driven them before, Holle led now with tenderness.

And she'd keep them here for as long as she could.

"Take me to bed?" Holle murmured at the corners of his mouth after several long, languid minutes, her smile brushing over his chin as she tilted her head back to look up at him with amusement and adoration– still high on that first fuck– "this table is going to make my ass fall asleep."

 

[BennyQ]

Jesus Christ wasn’t present in that room since they started this. Thomas didn’t expect him to be, though he could understand why Holle might mistake him for a deity in that moment, as he lingered over her, plastered against the wall, seated upon the countertop, wedged between the drywall…and this broad, warm, muscular body in front of her. Thomas could barely make her out with his eyes, as dark as it had gotten, but through his other senses, well trained as they were, he knew exactly where everything was.

Especially that he was still so hard, and impaled, within her.

It ought to done now. They shouldn’t be doing this. Thunder seemed to crackle as if all the heavens agreed with that pronouncement. He saw her then, in the brief flash of light, a figure of surreal beauty and presence. And familiarity. That was Holle. His Holle. His Schatzi. He was doing this to her. Should he not know better? Would the very same heavens sending out these flashing warnings not want him to know better?

But the heavens…was so far away. There was a different paradise, right here between their bodies, between her thighs, and upon her lips. He knew it was poison but why did it have to taste and feel like honey, when she said…take me to bed? He could feel her breath so very near to his face, scarcely able to make out her features. Thomas was lost. He consented to being lost. Just a little while longer.

”Boohoo.” He replied sarcastically to her little retort. It felt like such an…immature response to make. But entirely in line with who he used to be, with her, so long ago. He nuzzled in close to collect her, inadvertently pressing himself in deeper into her core, while he used his hands to fold her legs around his waist and then shift under her shoulders…to pick her right up off the dresser top. Carrying her in this fashion, hands under her rear, he moved towards the bed, but didn’t place her down. Instead he just stood, thinking he might kiss her awhile, finding her lips in the dark. His hips moved against her body, so ready to continue dancing together, delighting in the revelry they made and could still make.

What he had been craving for years and years and years, through successes and hardships. Other women might have known his bed. If this was to be his life now, he regarded all those other encounters as mistake. It should have been this, from the very start, and nothing else. Somehow during their kiss, as he held her to his chest and body, his hips began grinding again, rolling against her core, driving his manhood deep into her over and over again. It wasn’t long before, anchoring his feet, he began to buck into her with more spacing, more rapid thrusting, holding her aloft as he began to fuck her again.

Your ass was falling asleep? We won’t let it touch anything then. But this was a more rigorous position, one that elicited more grunts, harder panting, from Thomas, who was pushing to his limits to begin another vigorous coupling with Holle just bare moments after the last. He had so much he wanted to show her. So much he needed to tell her. All that urgency was put into this moment, into these actions, as he ragdoll fucked her in his arms like this, held above the bed. He was going to break more than just a rib.

And he didn’t care.

 

[Pink.]

He actually mocked her, bringing a surprised laugh to her lips before his shift in position pushed him back into the depths of her and wrenched a gasp from her lungs before she settled her weight into his arms and over his cock with a purr. He kept himself impaled in her, their bodies pressed close with her legs and arms entwined around his body and his hands anchored in the crooks of her thighs, and every little shift was a spark of sensation that kept the heat pooled deep within her core.

They kissed in the dark, Thomas holding her weight with his hips and arms and refusing to set her down on the bed– building that tension deep in her womb again as his hips started to rock and grind his sex into hers while they reacquainted themselves. Never in a million years had she thought– but how she had hoped– his touch, his taste, he was familiar and new all at once. Something sent from the universe to fill in the gaps of her, to embrace and mold and carry. She sighed a trembling moan against the corner of his lips as his hands shifted their grip and his hips started to pull out a little further. Slam home a little harder.

Instead of laying her down upon the mattress to spoon, he was fucking her like a ragdoll. Her squeals and cries sounded like they were coming through a megaphone in the black, powerless room, something Holle would normally be very conscious of, but all sense of the world had disintegrated the moment Tommy had first plunged his member deep into her core and his stamina was certainly not leaving a window of opportunity for her to become wary of her volume.

Before Thomas even tired she was bucking and tensing and writhing in his arms. Her orgasm was sudden and powerful, brought on in a fraction of the time as her climax from before still buzzed and sparked along her nerve endings. The pleasure was double than before, her legs shaking and nails biting into his shoulders as her thrashing brought them both down upon the mattress. Her back arched, her legs lifting at the knees and falling wide as he gripped her ribs and held her firmly in place– ramming himself into her pussy over and over again as she splintered into thousands of pieces around him.

 

[BennyQ]

The darkness helped so much, besides the occasional reminder when thunder flashed, blue and white, through the closed windows. What did he see, but a mouth permanently shaped in a circle, eliciting such loud cries from every tremendous thrust of his hips, breasts bouncing and eyes so very locked and intense… A reminder of who he was fucking. What he was fucking. She was his Holle, his Schatzi, but for how long? Dawn came, shadows and smoke cleared, and truths would be laid bare.

But until then, he was a slave to his lusts, to his desires, to his memories of old. He was owed this. And he was taking this, morals and ethics be damned. If it was so wrong, why did it feel so good?

She was, indeed, but a feather in Thomas’ grip. His arms were hardly strained by hoisting her up. No, the main exertion laid in his hips, still pumping so vigorously, so ceaselessly, with such a slick, vivid wet sound with every momentous impact and impalement. In shadow, in the dark, Thomas let go of his stoicism, outpouring all his passions into Holle’s core. All his muscles were flexed with the effort and there was so much to give. No pause or break when she cummed, all throughout it he continued to pound her, first above the bed, then back down on her sore ass upon the bed, legs spread, left open and exposed, to receive his spearing.

More and more throughout the dark night. On her back. On her stomach. He must have pulled her hair. He must have squeezed her throat. He was upon her, hips still drilling, losing vigour but never heart, between her legs and beneath her a pool of their conjoined, reckless passions. Sometime, they must have passed out together, naked as gods and goddesses in a pool. Her little body, tucked so neatly against his. Thomas was usually a strict man, rising at set timetables, never failing to miss his alarm.

But he did. And they were soon being sought out. One phone vibrating across the room hardly made a dent. But two? At the same time? Thomas gasped awake, suddenly aware of so many things. The silent patter of a dulled rainstorm outside. Light peering through the curtains. Her phone vibrating in long stretches. His phone vibrating in shorter bursts. And Holle…Holle pressed against his side, breasts into his flesh, leg draped over his and his arms…around her. Like she was venom, Thomas jerked away and scrambled off the bed and stood, utterly shocked and amazed by the whole scene.

They had…yes, they had. So much so. He stood, naked and wrought by the bedside, and it was also morning. He had a very large erection, whether desired or not. Most certainly not! His phone! Yes, his phone. He scrambled and saw the time and realized he was eight minutes past his allotted check in, at 7am. One missed call. And four messages. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck…!
It was his boss, Arellano Cortez. Thomas turned away from the bed and went as far as he could from it, Holle’s phone still throwing up it’s own protestations, seeking her attentions. Thomas huffed twice, inhaled and exhaled hard, then answered. ”Supervisor Moreland here.”

”Sitrep.” Came the furious demand.

”Situation, normal. I have eyes on the query.” Thomas reported, trying to sound alert, awake, and not like he overslept because he was…fucking the query. It smelled like sex. He could feel her still on his body. He recalled so vividly...how good it had been to be inside of her...and to be squeezed by her, over and over and over... ”I…the electrical storm was pretty intense last night. Knocked out all communication. All your messages and calls came at once.” He quickly thought up a lie.

”I called the hotel front desk, no problem.” Mr. Cortez replied smoothly.

”I’ve heard nothing, Sir.” Thomas replied innocently. ”Everything’s secure though. She’s secure. She is on the phone.” He hastily said, looking towards Holle. Wake the fuck up and answer yours before they realize something is not adding up…!

 

[Pink.]

Holle didn't respond. Not to him anyway. Not right away.

After Tommy had flung himself out from their tangle of limbs she'd rolled over with a grumble of irritation before she tried to slip back under that deep, velvety cover of sleep. It had been so long since she'd slept without nightmares, and even longer since she'd slept through the night. It had been so peaceful, she was nearly so rested… but his voice was sharp and loud when he picked up the phone, and the incessant bzzzzzzz bzz bzz bzzzzzzz drilled into her consciousness as she buried her head under a pillow. It didn't block out the sound of his hard breaths, or the volume at which he answered his phone.

bzzzzzzz bzz bzz bzz bzzzzzzz bzzzzzzz bzz bzz bzz bzzzzzzz

bzzzzzzz bzz bzz bzz bzzzzzzz bzzzzzzz bzz bzz bzz bzzzzzzz​

It didn't quite register that the continued vibrations while Thomas was talking on the phone meant that her phone was also ringing– not right away.

bzzzzzzz bzz bzz bzz bzzzzzzz bzzzzzzz bzz bzz bzz bzzzzzzz​

She's secure. She's on the phone.-------------------------------------------------------​

Shit!

Holle burst upright and whipped her head around to try and figure out where her phone was. It had died last night, so she'd plugged it in to charge but the power went out– fuck fuck fuck! There, by the dresser. She scrambled out of the sheets and picked up on the last ring, not bothering to see who it was as she answered, "Yup, hi– I'm here–"

"BABE! You will NEVER believe what just happened–"

Dash's voice hit her like a landslide. Her eyes flicked over to Tommy, meeting them briefly as her boyfriend rambled on about how 'some douche' on the beach hadn't recognized him and tried to fine him for something he did or didn't do– she didn't know. She could hardly keep up with what he was saying with the roar in her ears. Her body ached, limbs and core protesting every movement she made, and as she moved back to sit on the edge of the bed her sex throbbed hard enough to cause her to wince. "Wow, yeah…"

She spared a quick glance back to Thomas, a small smirk reaching her lips if he met her gaze, but they would have little time to be alone and process what had happened the night before. Especially since Arellano Cortez coolly alerted his agent that another team would be arriving at the motel shortly.

This time when Thomas urged her to get up, she did.

 

[BennyQ]

As if on cue, Holle finally got her ass up and grabbed her phone, sleepily answering it. Thomas watched her, forgetting for a moment that he was looking at a naked woman, his client and ward!, and couldn’t help but feel himself stir. No. Absolutely not. No. It was the morning and obtaining full stature wasn’t difficult but…fuck. Looking at Holle, who looked back, saw him looking, and then smirked? While he was on the phone, with his boss? And violating all his company’s code of ethics by sleeping with her? Thomas felt deftly pale and nervous.

And yet…he couldn’t help but want more. He hung up the phone and immediately went to grab his pants where she had taken them off, throwing them on hastily. ”The relief team is going to be here in twenty minutes.” He informed her hastily, gathering up his things and plopping them on the table. He felt like they were going to come in through the door in the next minute, guns and cameras out, catching them in the act. It would be an embarrassment. A scandal! He would end his career and probably take Holle’s down with him. And it would be all his fault.

Never mind it took two to tango. In his mind, Holle was, as ever, innocent. It was all Thomas. Him and his…lust.

He wasn’t looking at her anymore. Just dressing hastily. He gathered up her scattered clothing, placing them on the table, folding them even with military haste. He went and opened the window, using the little old school corkscrew knob to open it and let some rain dew scent into the room. ”Get dressed, shower, we’re moving out in the hour, ma’am. Convoy the rest of the way to Florida.” Thomas reported to her, in his curt and authoritarian work voice.

He really hoped it didn’t smell like sex in here.

But no, they never had a clue or inkling when the relief team of three personnel and two Palantir vehicles arrived. They didn’t come up and so Thomas only had to escort Holle down once she was packed. It was a small flyover town so there was no crowds or cameras as he walked her from the hotel front to the rear of the second vehicle. He sat in the front with the driver and two others in the lead vehicle led them on.

To…Miami, Florida!

Where there was a tremendous crowd, outside the studio, to see the famous Kennedy Monroe. Mostly young people, vigorous and enthusiastic, cheering and shouting and crowding up the vehicles as they pulled in front. Thomas signaled to Holle to wait as he got out of the front and then cleared some space to open the back door and help Holle out. Did she need a hand? The Palantir SUV was a bit vaulted and a rolled ankle from a bad hop could be ruinous. But even as he extended his hand, finding his whole body aching just for the littlest touch…he showed up, through the security cordon.

Dash King. Hollywood Golden Boy. The celebrity boyfriend. He arrived just in time to intercept Holle and grab and half pull her out of the SUV in excitement. ”Baby!” He exclaimed and kissed her. Right in front of Thomas, who had to watch, just a foot away. He kept his expression very controlled. Very, very controlled. People were cheering the romance and intimacy, taking pictures of Dash receiving and kissing his singer girlfriend. ”You going to put me in the video, babe? I got all the dance moves ready.” Said Dash, a notoriously horrible dancer, who never once danced properly in the way befitting any of Kennedy Monroe’s music.

Thomas with the security team escorted the pair inside the studio, where tech teams, a director, and Kennedy’s usual staff were all waiting for her. Conference room to discuss the video storyboard, maybe some scene changes, then off to film at the constructed sets. There shouldn’t be any trouble today.

 

[Pink.]

Holle had so much she wanted to say but she didn't know where to begin, how to word her apology for all things past and present, or whether or not Tommy even felt the same– regardless of what was left unsaid, they both had obligations that took priority, and both shared that silent understanding that what had occurred last night needed to remain between them.

And whichever one of her team received the invoice for the broken furniture.

It had been just under one year since Kennedy had collaborated with another artist to record and release a single that had taken the world by storm. Initially, the timing of her trip to Miami wouldn't overlap with an opening at the studio, but the delay had ruined more than just her plans and while en route in the convoy a change in her schedule was brought to her– and her bodyguard's– attention. When she texted Dash to let him know, he didn't respond. Kennedy didn't press. She found herself hoping that Dash didn't show at all, even though this entire trip was supposed to be for them. An extended weekend to reconnect, maybe find a little of what they'd lost, but the more she stewed on it… could they lose something they'd never had?

When they arrived at the studio, the far too eager and excited crowd was just another reminder of Dash's disregard for Kennedy's privacy. She could feel the sweat trickling down her back as she stared through the tinted glass at the sea of unfamiliar faces, but as she twisted to begin to exit the suburban– her hand outstretched to slide into Tommy's comforting grip– she was intercepted and tugged from the car unceremoniously. A small cry of alarm lost in the cheering of the crowd, and the widening of her eyes was at least blocked from the paparazzi as Dash slammed his mouth over hers in a dry, unwelcome kiss.

Holle sank further under the skin of Kennedy, wearing her persona like armor. When the kiss broke and the small, tight smile graced her lips as she softly laughed and deflected his question, her gaze drifted to Tommy– searching for something, but for what, she didn't know. Understanding? Forgiveness? Rage? She tightened her own features, walking past the person she wished had his arm around her instead, and headed past the throngs of rabid fans, and into the studio to work.

３ ＨＯＵＲＳ ＬＡＴＥＲ​

abc

abc

The music played overhead on the speakers, sounding faint and distant but giving just enough guidance for the dancers on the stage to match their movements to the song. Kennedy was going through her steps, following the marks taped onto the floor and following the choreography practiced earlier, and singing her parts of the song– but she was distracted.

Dash was standing back by a table littered with snacks and beverages for the crew, soaking up attention from a few dancers not yet called to the platform where the video was being shot. His eyes and hands were all over them, either thinking she wouldn't notice or that she wouldn't care, or maybe just so full of himself that he figured if she did catch him, she'd be so grateful she was with him that she'd forgive?

But what legs did she stand on after last night– "CUT!"

Kenney blinked, turned her head and realized just how far off course she'd been. With a hand up, she apologized quietly beneath her breath, catching a glimpse at Thomas from her peripheral as she reset for their third take. Guilt washed through her. Heavy and bitter on her tongue even as she painted that smile on her face. So practiced it even crinkled the corners of her eyes, but that light never quite reached her eyes. The music was played back, they counted themselves in…

Baby, calm down, calm down
Girl, this your body e put my heart for lockdown
For lockdown, oh, lockdown​

The choreography positioned her so that Thomas was in her direct line of sight. His eyes on her, his head subtly bobbing in rhythm. As her lips parted and she sang for the camera, she could see him mouthing the lyrics himself. She felt something in her chest tighten, her attention swept back up by her partner as they moved their hips, dancing together as their voices harmonized over the background music. They'd use the recordings the pair had already completed to fix any sound later.

A sudden and giddy laugh broke as soon as the director called cut, and every head turned to look at the flock of young, impressionable girls that had gathered around Dash. Her hands were all over him, his eyes staring directly down at her tits, her cellphone in his hand…

Rage. Deep, bitter rage boiled in her stomach at the brazenness of it all. What the fuck did he think he was doing?

"I need five," she heard someone say– maybe it was her? She couldn't be certain– and in three seconds she was off the stage and storming directly to where Dash was sliding a smooth hand down the girl's ass to slide the phone into her back pocket. "Hey, bitch!" Holle hissed as her fist coiled in the bitch's hair and yanked her back so hard her extensions came out.

Not her best moment.

 

[BennyQ]

Thomas had never seen the making of a music video before. And it was more than enlightening the things he saw this day. It was a marvel, how Holle – Kennedy Monroe – could switch so flawlessly, so precisely, between her on-screen persona and just…Holle. He could not even glimpse that there was a storm brewing behind her pretty eyes. Or how very akin it was to the tumultuous, gut wrenching feeling going on inside him. Like her, his countenance was stern and controlled. But inside, it felt like his gut was twisting end over end, over the things they had done.

Done together, against all the rules and ethics and expectations.

Just yesterday too. How many times had he replayed the night in question through his mind? The taste of her lingered on his tongue and mouth. The feeling of her body pressed so close to his vivid on his flesh. And the sensation of him being within her so…distant and vague, as if taunting him, mocking him, that he needed to renew all memory of that feeling as soon as possible, as urgent as could be done. Otherwise, he would lose her. Forever.

She did not make it easy, as she performed this particular song. Even after their initial split and separation after high school, he had become aware of her career. Even listened to a few of her songs, though he would never admit it. Because it hard. Thomas felt like sometimes she was speaking to him, through her lyrics and movements. Through what she was doing right now! It was catchy though, he couldn’t deny that. There would be no shame either to be caught up in the beat. Hell, even his boss loved Kennedy’s music.

For you I get down, oh, woah,
And my hips make you cry,
When I’m moving around on you​

And just once, just…once, If she looked his way, his solid, unmoving expression would be so vulnerable. His eyes wide, his lips slightly ajar, his jaw drooping, as those lyrics and those images and her sight just blew through his mind. But he recovered, just as the music and scene ended, and she was right in front of him. Looking at him. As if she could see his very thoughts. Mocked him, for what he might lose, too. If he…didn’t just calm down and be himself with her? He steeled his expression. He focused on his work. And despite her being his ward and query, he managed to pry his eyes off of her and moved away first, heading towards Carol for a report.

”Sitrep?” He asked Carol but she was staring wide eyed past him.

”Uh, Supervisor Moreland…?” She pointed, gesturing past him. And Thomas turned just in time to witness the Hey, bitch! and resulting hair grab and grapple.

All hell fuckin’ broke loose over there. Screaming. Shock. Dash just backing up, shit eating grin on his face, looking around as if to see if anyone else was seeing the same shit as him. Ah, shit, my snapchat is goin’ to be lit! But Thomas…he had never moved so fast in his life. Across the set, through the crowd he pushed, swinging one arm around Holle and proceeding to downright manhandle and pick her up, pulling her away from the dancer in question, who was wisely restrained by her friends. Thomas, one arm around Holle’s abdomen, carried her like a petulant child to her dressing room, the doorway shut and immediately barricaded by his subordinates outside the door.

Only there, he set her down. Then, he fixed and adjusted his suit, pulling on the hems and fluffing his sleeves, until his appearance was back to being immaculate after what she had just done. He looked her dead in the eye, his own full of disappointment and yet…longing, but he had no shame when he repeated those words to her.

”That was terribly done, ma’am.” Thomas said softly to her.

 

[Pink.]

She almost had that bitch in a headlock when she was suddenly scooped around her middle and yanked off her feet– "Put me down!–" she snarled, twisting and writhing out of her captor's arm long enough to get her shoes back on the ground before he got her feet out from under her and hoisted her over his shoulder– "This isn't over!" Other voices were starting to shout over the ruckus, demanding everyone to break apart, go back to work, knock it off, but once Kennedy was hauled away the remaining crowd was focused more on the dancer crying on the ground, and Dash as he was putting on his Soap Opera best.

"Put me down! I mean it, Tommy! Put! Me! DOWN!" her scream was punctuated by the slam of her dressing room door.

Suddenly she was on her own, wobbling to catch her balance and snapping an all-too familiar glare at him and the militant way in which he corrected his jacket before he lifted those deeply unsettling eyes to hers. Something in them made her pause.

That was terribly done, ma'am. The same thing he'd told her after the Drew Barrymore interview. She wanted to rip his face off almost as much as she wanted him to bend her over the couch and fuck her into submission. Her blood was boiling in her veins as she glared at him in strained, heavy silence. Her eyes burned, and no matter how hard she clenched her jaw her chin started to wobble. She fucking hated this. She didn't want any of this anymore. The veil was starting to drop, the girl he knew as Schatzi was starting to reveal herself, but there was a commotion outside the door.

"Hey! Let me go! Kennedy, we need to talk!"​

Kennedy lifted her chin, squaring her eyes on Thomas before she exhaled a soft, shaky breath.

"Give us a minute."

 

[BennyQ]

It was remarkable how scrappy Holle was. Then again, she grew up in the same place that spawned him, Thomas turning to be quite a deadly soldier and veteran in his time. Must be something in the water. But this was unwarranted. She attacked another dancer! Her own worker. While it wasn’t his job to protect the dancer, it was his job to protect Holle. And sometimes that meant from herself as well.

Dancers rolled in cliques. They could have easily ganged up on her and rocked her shit.

Now they faced off. Holle glared at him and yet had this strange look in her eye. Almost like…longing. And seeing that seemed to take the steel right out of his spine. It was something mutual. It was not easily deniable, the ancient song their bodies sang together the night before. It was still so very vivid. They hadn’t even had time to discuss what exactly had happened between them. What it meant. What it could be, going forward, if anything at all. Was it closure for a failed relationship they once had or was it a spark for something more? But how could it become more, if she already had…a boyfriend.

Who was now knocking at the door. And Thomas felt his heart break, when Holle acknowledged it and asked for a minute. No, it wasn’t his place to talk to her about such things. She had a boyfriend. Thomas nodded and turned to open the door, giving his assent to the other bodyguards to admit Dash into the room. Dash walked by so haughtily, grinning at Thomas before he walked over to Holle, putting his hands over her sides and hips. ”Are you alright, babe?” He asked, pretending to seem concerned. Thomas averted his eyes. He couldn’t stand to watch that, knowing what he had done, how he felt. What he wanted.

”And you,” he wheeled on Thomas, ”why did you stop her from fighting? Let her cook, bro. You’re supposed to have her back, not other people’s. What the fuck, dude?” He lectured Thomas, walking right up to the bodyguard and sizing him up. Dash was shorter and less bulkier than Thomas. And thought he could order him around, despite Thomas and his firm working for Kennedy Monroe only.

But Thomas just looked over at Holle, almost with a measure of pity. This is your man? ”Ma’am.” Thomas just said to her, ignoring Dash, turning around to exit the room and close the door behind him. He let the other bodyguards move off, while he stood alone outside the door. Listening…but not trying to look like he was listening. It should be him in there. He finally let loose a long, shuddering exhale of exhaustion. The images in his mind were still so very vivid.

 

[Pink.]

"Don't touch me," Kennedy hissed as she twisted out of his hands, her rejection disguised by Dash's attention already being thrust toward Thomas. She felt that same hot, angry stone burning in her throat as she met her bodyguard's patronizing stare over Dash's shoulder, and bristled at the judgment she saw there. When the door finally shut and she was left alone with Dash, there was just one, single, precious moment of silence before Dash opened his dumb mouth.

They went back and forth for several minutes, the volume rising as Kennedy's temper flared, but it wasn't until Dash poured kerosene on the fire with a comment too low to hear that she snapped. The shouting devolved, becoming less coherent as emotions rose until there was a sudden smacking sound followed by a startled, pitchy wail.

"You slapped me!"–
abc–"I gave you a warning!"​

She could hear Thomas in her head as she stared down the barrel of a lawsuit. That was terribly done. His voice haunted her even when he wasn't here. She loathed that her chin was wobbling as she spat her next words. "Get out! We're over, I'm fucking done with you!"

Dash's face was blister-red, eyes black and beady as they narrowed at her, sharp as razors before he lunged. He made contact with her shoulders, shoving her back against the vanity with enough force that she heard the mirror crack. His shout didn't register, his words lost under the chaos of Thomas swelling up behind him like a wave. Dash didn't stand a chance, his bravado buckling as Thomas twisted his arm up and behind his back and coiled his fist in his shirt collar.

Her shoes brushed against the carpet as she slid off the vanity desk, her hand at the back of her head to test for blood– none was found, but she still felt dazed as she rolled her gaze up to meet Thomas' concerned eyes as he came back across the small room to her, leaving his team to escort Dash the rest of the way from the warehouse by the others on the Palantir team.

"I'm fine," she started before he could say anything to her, shaking her head and waving her hand as if she could just brush off everything that had happened. She felt so suddenly like a spring ready to snap. She had felt light so briefly the night before… kissing Thomas, holding Thomas, feeling him…

Her life was too heavy again. The pressure, the fear, the loneliness–

"Get me out of here, Tommy, please."

 

[BennyQ]

Don’t touch me…

What the fuck is your problem, Kennedy?

Hardly had Thomas closed the doors when the voices broke out, raised in anger and volume. He couldn’t help but bristle, but fought the urge. It was indeed his job to protect Holle – Kennedy Monroe as her celebrity persona went, but there was an entire chapter on how to conduct oneself when a ward was involved in a domestic dispute. He shouldn’t. He could not. But the voices were fierce and sharp. And Dash was so big and Holle was so little… Every nerve in his body was screaming to get in there and protect her. Protect his…little Schatzi.

It would be over soon, he hoped. No conflict of interest or anything. Oh god, why did it have to be her? Sometimes he felt like he could still smell her, on him, after the night they shared. No amount of showering seemed to dissipate her scent from lingering in his mouth or nose. And yet she chose to date that man. That-

A thud. A smack. Followed by…

You slapped me!

I gave you a warning! Get out! We’re over, I’m fucking done with you!

And that was it. Thomas spun on his heel in military elegance and threw the door open. His ward was under assault and menace, he didn’t care about ethics or the particular code of conduct when dealing with a domestic situation. He saw Dash facing down Holle – Was that tears in his eyes? From one slap? - who looked absolutely furious. He got in just in time to see Dash lunge at Holle, driving her up against the vanity and mirror. Something cracked. Thomas feared it might be Holle herself. He didn’t hesitate. He was in the heat of battle and his instincts never failed him. His hand clamped on the back of Dash’s neck, while twisting his arm behind him, yanking the man like a doll away from Holle and spinning him towards the door.

Thomas spoke no words. Said no warning or insult. He just shoved the complaining man out of the door and shut it in his face, locking it. Then he spoke, clicking on his mic to contact his subordinates. ”Lockdown, priority one.” He ordered. His people would immediately converge on Kennedy’s location and prevent anyone from getting to her. Anyone.

But now…he and Holle were alone in the dressing room. She looked so hurt, checking herself for injury. Thomas silently walked to her and put his hands on her shoulders, concern wrought deep in his eyes, as he turned Holle gently this way and that, inspecting her with grave scrutiny. She was…unharmed, at least on the outside. She might have some throbbing or aching. It was a hard push. She was…stronger than she looked. That was his Schatzi.

She said that she was fine. And she needed to get out of there. ”You’re okay. You’ll be okay.” I’m here. Thomas assured her, though he left the third part unsaid, because…that was personal. Too personal. He looked at her so intently for a moment, eyes momentarily darting between her eyes and her lips. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to refresh the sensation of her taste and feel on his mind. But…there was a job to do. And Dash could be heard raging outside as he was led away.

She slapped him. Suddenly, Thomas felt a smile tugging at his lips. Completely unbeckoned. But damn, he was so proud of her. ”Come on, hold my sleeve, stay behind me.” Thomas instructed her, turning his back to her, letting her grab onto his back or arm, the way they used to when they visited that haunted house one Halloween, back in their senior year. He walked her out, his subordinates falling in behind her, forming a protective cordon. The scene between her and Dash and the dancer had certainly put a mood on the studio. People were silent and watching. Some were filming even. Thomas could do nothing about that.

He got her out with no incident. Opened the truck door to the armoured SUV and seated her in. And he…sat beside her, instead of upfront. Even the driver and his subordinates were confused, but didn’t question it. ”Take us home.” Thomas ordered and soon their convoy was away, leaving behind throngs of cheering fans who had no clue what happened. Yet.

But the word would spread. Kennedy Monroe attacked. Kennedy Monroe viciously attacks. Kennedy Monroe and boyfriend Dash King seen in heated squabble. A certain stalker might be thinking…she needed rescuing. From someone who knew her best.

 

[Pink.]

She didn't fight the direction of his hands, the way they pushed and pulled her in his grasp as he checked her over. Normally she'd be annoyed by his redundancy, telling her she was okay after she'd already said she was fine, but as she came to a stop– his hands still on her shoulders, his eyes boring into hers– she pursed her lips into a thin line, internally cursing the wobble of her chin as she soaked up his reassurances and nodded.

He seemed to stare down at her for a heartbeat more before he suddenly broke out into a grin, and it was as if an invisible weight lifted off her shoulders. She couldn't help her breathless laugh in response, aqua eyes shimmering as her head fell forward into her hands. It wasn't entirely clear if the tears she had sliding down her cheeks were due to her laughing or her crying, and neither asked or answered before he gave her arms a quick squeeze.

Falling in line behind him like it was choreography they'd practiced a dozen times, she grabbed a fistful of his jacket in one hand as she shoved her sunglasses onto her face with the other after swiping them off the counter along with her bag just before they left the closed room behind.

Just feeling him next to her helped anchor her in the midst of the emotional fallout. His arm was firm against hers, somehow finding her weight pressed against him no matter which way the car pulled. She was debating resting her head on his shoulder when her phone started to blow up.

Dash, celebrity friends, Vika, unknown numbers– texts and calls and emails– she was ready to cross over Thomas and throw her mobile out the window when he took it from her and powered it down before sliding it into his interior pocket. She looked up at him, studying his features carefully before she tucked her chin and laid her forehead against his shoulder with a small, breathy chuckle.

"Thank you."

A rush of emotion surged toward the surface, blurring her vision and burning her eyes. She sniffled, reaching her hands up to swipe under her eyes as she repositioned herself against him– nestled with the familiarity of more-than-friends.

—​

Holle felt deep relief soaking into her bones– not from having finally arrived at their destination, or from the long, hot shower she'd immediately stepped into once inside, but from the end of the relationship between her and Dash. It was over. She hadn't told him she'd slept with Thomas but it didn't matter, not to her. She should have been done with Dash weeks ago, probably months if she really wanted to spend her energy diving into the past, but as she stepped down the stairs from the upper level of the two-story luxury cabin and found Thomas standing on the raised deck overlooking the private beach, she knew another thought spent on Dashiel King was a thought wasted.

After her shower she'd changed into a pair of loose black running shorts and an oversized black sweater, pulled over a plain white tank top. Her hair was still wet and starting to curl, her face fresh and make-up free. She looked like she had in high school as she stepped through the glass French doors to join him. Her hands slid over the railing beside him, bare feet warm on the sun-soaked wooden porch.

"Are we alone?" she asked as she turned her head up to look at him with a soft, tentative smile.

 

[BennyQ]

The vacation cabin was definitely one of the better perks of the job.

All the security detail had foregone suits and formal dress. It just wouldn’t work with the climate and it would be cruel to even suggest them do so. Not even Thomas was that rough. He set the trend, wearing khaki shorts, durable runners, and a loose hawaiian shirt that wasn’t exactly buttoned all the way to the top, exposing some of his strong, broad chest, alongside visible, muscular forearms. Still, it was easy to spot out the security detail from the tourists, by their sunglasses, hats, and ear pieces.

Thomas was still connected to everything. He always had his eyes on Holle, even when she wasn’t in his line of sight. Others watched her. Constant reports buzzed through his ear on every little movement. She had a new codename too. Goose-One. Goose-One is in the kitchen. G1 in the bedroom. G1 moving out onto the terrace…

Where Thomas was positioned, overlooking the beach and rearward approaches to the cabin. While it was private coast, there were luxury resorts and cabins up and down the coast, divided by significant differences. People were walking along the shore every now and then. Thomas made sure to keep an eye on anyone even remotely within view of the home. There would be no surprises on his watch. He took very seriously, the protection and safeguarding of…her.

Her and that…smile of hers.

Thomas stood by the railing, hands folded behind his back, squaring his broad shoulders. Holle came up next to him, bare footed, looking so modest and humble and so…young. How often had they stood like this at Coyote Point? Holding hands. Holding…each other. How he wanted to hold her right here. He had so much to say to her. She had done so well for herself, a view like this, the ocean and beach before them.

She asked if they were alone. Thomas knew they were never alone. He signaled it to Holle by raising a hand to his earpiece, activating his team comms. ”I have eyes on Goose-One.” He just said mechanically. No one might be here with them, but people were listening, observing through cameras and other devices. He returned his hands behind him, shoulders once again squared and powerful.

”How are you doing, ma’am?” He asked her formally, before delivering a report. ”The dancer isn’t pressing charges, I’ve been told. So hopefully all this will blow over.” He said, talking about…ugh, work of all things. But he couldn’t talk about what he really wanted to talk about. Not openly. Hell, even if he was alone with Holle, it would still prove troublesome to speak. That part of his development, as a human and a person with mature feelings, had not followed him post high school. Sure, he might have waged war, investigated criminals, put his life on the line, but that was a different facet of life. He had no experience in other matters, such as the heart.

Facing her, he lowered his jaw a little towards his upper chest, bringing his eyes more directly to bear on her face. ”Reminds me of Ditch Day.” He said to her, quirking his eyes towards the beach and sands. The wind and ocean wave could help run interference over the mic, filling it with white noise and all…

 

[Pink.]

Holle's brows shot up at the moniker. Her lips twisted into a scowl that might have been taken seriously if not for the amused way her jaw cocked to the side and familiar twinkle in her gaze— as if she stood holding a lit match above a trail of gasoline… considering the possibilities— before she snorted and rolled her eyes away, shaking her head as if to say 'I'll address this later. Her forearms rested on the railing as his formal greeting delivered its intended message. Fine, they'd stick to being professional. She turned her head to look out over the view. Direct beach access had its perks, but even the most luxurious and private residences of South Beach didn't have sections of coastline carved out for their own. Tourists still walked about out front, though as the day faded less and less ventured this far out from the resorts and nightlife several miles down the coast. Not to mention there was still quite a distance from the deck where she stood and the public sands of the shore. The setting sun made her eyes shine like polished brass, with veins of warm, golden honey and rich molasses blooming out from behind her pupils. If he looked for it, he'd find a single black freckle in her left iris, a birthmark she shared with her father. Thick lashes dropped to shield her sensitive eyes from the direct light and her chin lifted, warming her face as the everso professional Palantir agent delivered his report. "So hopefully this will blow over." Her attention turned back to Thomas, the expression on her face full of doubt that she would be so lucky, though when she spoke the words that came from her mouth were "Yeah, hopefully." A moment of silence stretched to fill the emptiness between them. She started to push herself upright, anchoring her right leg a step behind her left and rocking her weight back– catching her weight by her fingertips, pursing her lips in idle consideration before she turned to face him. To do what? She had no idea, but she couldn't stand being just business at a time like this. Not with him... ABCD… but he was already leveling his stare at her… commanding her complete attention… ABCDEFGHIJK"Reminds me of Ditch Day."

---

Her joy softened the edges of her scream. One hand white knuckling the harness lowered over her chest and the other holding onto Tommy's arm for dear life as the carnival ride flung them through the air. The carnival at Bradford Beach was over an hour away but he insisted. It'd be the perfect thing to cheer her up after her disastrous week, and he wouldn't take no for an answer. They spent the entire day gorging themselves on salty, sugary, and deep fried foods, wandering exhibits, playing the games, and jumping on every thrill ride available. She hadn't stopped smiling since they got through the gates and her joy was contagious. When their energy had finally started to wane, they migrated to the ferris wheel and then finally to the beach itself. Shoes and socks off, toes in the sand, they reclined on the lakeshore and watched the sunset. talking for hours. Just the two of them in their own little oasis, even after darkness fell and the chill finally forced them back to his jeep. The nightmare of her previous week was forgotten as she nestled comfortably into the nook under his arm for the entire ride home.​

---

Holle could almost taste the cinnamon and butter on her tongue. Her hand inched toward him on the railing, fingers twitching as if aching to touch him before she regained her composure. Or at least control of her limbs. "I still have my wristband," she admitted with a smirk, turning her head to look over the surf. She breathed in a deep sigh, expelling the air through her nose before she returned her focus to his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made her mouth go dry, and the urge to reach out and pull him into her was nearly too great to ignore. "I want to go for a walk, clear my head a bit. If I do that, am I going to have a gaggle of agents trailing me?" The tinge of annoyance in her voice wasn't an act, she hated the idea of a pack of people following her every move, but she hoped Thomas caught it for the play it was. Just us. He did, and she wrapped the ruse in a shiny bow by begrudgingly compromising to one agent escorting her. With a quick spin on her heel, she started toward the weathered steps that lead to the beach beyond without checking to see if Thomas was following her— she knew he was.

 

[BennyQ]

---

That time at the carnival had been, without a doubt, the happiest moment in all of Thomas Moreland’s life.

The squeeze of his hand, the hollowness in his belly when the big drop came, the smiles, the laughter, the wild flailing of her hair with the wind and speed of the ride, it was so…surreal. It didn’t matter that the snacks and meals were cheap, the equivalent of bar food essentially. Any plate shared with her may as well be a five-star meal. It didn’t matter that the games were all rigged against the players. Their hopes, the rises and falls, when shared together was more to relish than any actual triumphant.

Or when he did win, getting that final score, only to hand over to her the prize of her desire. There was no effort greater than earning that smile on her pretty face, while her windswept hair danced around her features. And then down to the water, to cool off the burning heat of their souls as they danced an ancient dance together, of passion and longing and desire.

The sand between their toes, the freezing surf of water making them shriek and laugh and flash their inspired smiles.

The quiet moments, when it felt like the only sound in the world was their hearts beating in unison.

And the talk. The talk, Thomas! Whether the most heartfelt topics or the most banal stupidty, the talk by far…was the best.

And then Thomas went and gave it all up…

---

I still have my wristband.

She may as well confess she had the Holy Grail. His expression visibly lightened at the mention. He had lost his. Well, he lost almost all his former life, the physical artifacts and such, when he had gone off to join the military. All he had left was the memories…and Holle. Together they stood, watching the ocean ebb and flow, their hands on the railings so very near. The minute drift of her fingers towards his wasn’t missed. He felt that longing too, very deep inside. And they were so very near to one another.
Yet how could they be together, with so many eyes and ears watching and listening? Well, Holle knew. Her voice was stern and Thomas responded to the authority in her tone by standing straight and rigid, heeding her requests. ”No, ma’am. Just one agent can accompany you. Myself, in this case.” He said, speaking pointedly, and Holle seemed to have gotten the message. He gestured, and she turned on her heel and led the way, her little hips swaying and enticing Thomas to follow. Adorably, like an eager puppy on a walk, she glanced back to see if he was following her. He offered her a small smile to assure her he was close behind.

”Beach is going to have a lot of static, boss.” Came the crackle of a voice over the comms.

”You’ll lose visual too.” Thomas reported back, as he followed a few steps behind Holle. ”I’m going to cut the mic, save your ears. I’ll report back if there’s any trouble. Shouldn’t be too long away. Supervisor Moreland, out.” He concluded and removed the piece from his ear and deactivated the hidden microphone on his personage, as they got to the bottom of the steps. The moment their feet hit sand…they were alone.

Still, he walked a pace or two behind her, at her flank, like a bodyguard. How many times had they crossed sandy beaches, side by side, fingers intertwined? They had been so innocent then. But here in South Beach, things were different. There seemed a party with loud music and crowds at almost every other resort and cabin. There was liquor everywhere. This was certainly an adult place to be, not the empty and reclusive beaches of their youth. The state around them to seemed to scream you can be adults with one another here. But could they? Could they really?

Back in the motel room, they had very much been adults. He had fucked her so hard and good. He never knew how soothing that was for his own troubled soul. Or worse, it was not true healing, but rather…a drug. A drug that numbed all his senses and foul memories. A drug that made him feel so euphoric. A drug…that he wanted more of. And no ethics or code of conduct or standards or decorum seemed like it could stop it. What was duty, when compared to her touch and gaze?

He felt like if he had it again, he might truly break her, from the heat that swelled and burned within him. He could just...squeeze her, so tightly, with an intimate embrace...

”It’s safe to speak,” Thomas said quietly, once they were out of sight of the rear balcony of her cabin and safe house. He had his hands folded behind his back, sunglasses covering his eyes, but it was obvious his gaze was levelled at her. ”I…lost my wristband, way back when. It felt painful to see and keep it around then. I was an idiot.” He laughed a little nervously, thinking she might regard him losing his like some blasphemy or disgrace. Look at him, so big and strong, scared of little Holle’s opinion. Because only her opinion could matter so much to him.

 

[Pink.]

It took every ounce of self control that Holle still contained to keep herself from reaching for Thomas the moment the vacation rental was behind them. Her body ached, actually ached, to feel his skin, his warmth, against her. The evening was far from cool, the warm summer weather keeping the Florida coastline balmy even as the sun was dipping beneath the horizon but Holle couldn't stifle her shivering.

She had spent ten years of her life carefully cultivating the persona of Kennedy Monroe, and in a matter of weeks, it was all falling apart around her. A carefully constructed house of cards, toppled by an errant breath, a passing word, a glance. Whatever had started the destruction of her world had been so miniscule, so casual and overlooked, that no matter how hard or closely she examined her memories of the past few years she couldn't find the mistake that had started it all.

Perhaps it had all been a mistake. Every part of it, since the very first step she'd taken outside of Wisconsin. What would it all be like if she'd stayed?

It's safe to speak. Her throat closed up. What did she even have to say? Everything she'd prepared in her shower, to say to him on the deck, was gone. She only thought of that perfect Ditch Day, the other night in the motel when the last vestiges of her armor against him had crumbled with his kiss, and how deeply she wished to take everything back and return to those two teenagers they had been so long ago.

Luckily, thankfully, Tommy took the first step.

"Mine is in a box," she admitted with a grim smile, slowing her pace so that he caught up to her, "tucked away in a closet at home. I thought about burning that box so many times but there was a part of me that knew I'd be devastated one day if I did."

She'd always been sentimental no matter how hard she tried to make it seem as if nothing mattered to her. Even back then. Everything mattered, and it mattered too much. Holle bore the weight of the world on her frail shoulders, keeping everything clustered and pinned close so no one could see– could even fathom– the depth to which she cared about those around her. Being Kennedy was a relief, because Kennedy didn't care. Kennedy was there to perform, to do a job, and be done. Kennedy Monroe was armor around the giant, walking bruise that was Holle Katzen.

"What are we going to do?" came her question, so soft it was nearly missed under the steady push and pull of the waves rolling in, "What happens when it's time for your team to leave?"

Her eyes flicked up to his, feeling the weight of his attention behind her own reflection in his shades. "What happens with us?"

 

[BennyQ]

The beach wind and crashing of the waves on shore was a godsend for Thomas, as he felt his heart beating like he was on the eve of going into battle or something. Just by walking with Holle. Being alone with her, knowing what he knew, knowing what was still in her heart in regards to him, they were such tremendous revelations that his whole worldview up until the hotel had been upended. He thought those chapters of his life were dead and gone. Forever. As much as he didn’t want them to be, they were gone. And now, like a man who had been promised a renewal of life on his deathbed, Thomas felt so…confused. Confused and nervous.

But there was one constant to hang on to. That he so deeply wanted Holle. And now had his second chance…

Holle though seemed to not want him to live down his premature abandonment of his feelings. She still had her ticket, in a box, implying she had many other mementos from their first time together. Thomas would very much like to see that box one day. He even confident he already knew what it looked like. After all, he had been in her room before, back in their hometown. But it had been his bedroom where they had first…

Did it matter? He had carried himself the past few years like it never had. But now, that night with Holle, it mattered so much. And he was not living up to it at all. He owed her. A lot. If only he could show her, just how hotly the flame of passion burned in him.

What are we going to do? She asked as they walked on the sands. She was a step ahead. Thomas followed, a step behind, at her right flank. Hands behind his back. Shoulders squared. His gaze straight ahead, concealed behind sunglasses. What happens when it’s time for your team to leave? What happens with us? She peered up at him and Thomas lowered his jaw to his upper chest, to level his gaze down at her. All very good questions. Great. So what were the answers?

”What are we?” He asked her back, speaking softly, as if his whole team might hear. But every mic on him was disabled. ”What can we even be, Schatzi? We shouldn’t have been anything at all. You…” Thomas started to say, as some other people were coming down the beach towards them. They spotted Kennedy Monroe and started whispering to one another. Is that her? Is that her?! But they didn’t say anything, passing by with furtive looks, as if bedazzled.

Thomas watched them go, then stepped to Holle and pressed her up the beach a little, to where the sands ended and the tree line began. Large palm trees, surrounded by thickets of leafy plants, and grass mingled with sands beneath. ”You have a boyfriend, Holle. How can anything happen with us?” Thomas questioned her pointedly. He was not a cheater. A home wrecker, or the male version of it, whatever that was. He absolutely knew her relationship with Dash King was…artificial, to say the least. But labels mattered. Words mattered. They had to matter. Or none of this could truly be real.

But action…was very much real. And being so near to her stirred something deeper in his heart. An ancient language, desiring an ancient dance.

”I will always protect you. And…I do want to be more.” Thomas confessed to her. ”But…I cannot see how that can happen.” He said, bringing her near a tree, putting her back to it, while he gazed around, as if the normal flow of beach goers here could somehow be a threat. Except from fangirling out over seeing Kennedy Monroe, there really wasn’t a danger. But somehow it felt like every pair of eyes and ears would know…their conspiracy. And it could so bite both of them in the ass if discovered.

He looked back at her, his hand still on her shoulder, holding her towards the tree. To cover her? Or to…entrap and possess her. Behind his sunglasses, his eyes darted between her eyes, where he thought the truth was, and her lips, where he wanted the truth to be. If the next words out of her mouth weren't that truth, he might go crazy.

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