57: Addictive

Marie

     I have no idea how much time has gone by. I feel like I've slept for a little while. I'm still in Jesse's arms, I think with a small thrill shooting through me with this realization.

     His arms tighten the smallest amount when I stir a little.

     "Ah!" I cry out suddenly.

     "Are you okay?" Jesse asks quickly, sounding worried.

     "I forgot about my knee," I explain quietly.

     "Do you want some pain meds?" 

     I tell him yes, and he gets up to find them where I told him they'd be. Once I take them, I hand him the cup of water, and he puts it on the bedside table before lying down next to me and pulling me into his embrace once more.

      He suddenly freezes and asks, "Is this still okay?"

      "Yes," I answer, and he relaxes again. Then he wordlessly encourages me to lay my head on his chest, and I do so. "Did I fall asleep?" I ask to have something to diffuse the increasingly-combustible atmosphere surrounding us.

      "Yeah. About two hours or so. I'm not sure. I dozed a little bit myself," he answers me and starts calmly running his fingers through my hair.

       I'm so warm and comfortable, I think before I close my eyes again, hoping to go to sleep. What Jesse does to my hair feels nice.

Jesse

      Go to sleep, Marie, I think as I happily run my fingers through her hair, trying to figure out what I did right. Whatever it is, I hope I do figure it out because I need to keep doing it. This is wonderful.

      She relaxes more into me, and it's all I can do to keep myself from getting all over her. I can't mess this up, and I think I've skated on thin ice enough for one night.

      Hm, she didn't act like she minded it when I'd lightly kiss her here and there, I think as I start doing that again. I love this!

     Twisting around a little, I kiss her forehead, her hair, the top of her nose, somewhere else on her forehead, etc while continuing to stroke the back of her head. My other arm holds her close.

       This outfit she's wearing is driving me insane. I love crop tops.

      My hand rests on the bare skin of her waist, and I absentmindedly rub the little dip in her waist from her hips. She stirs. Dammit.

       "Jesse, I want to sleep," she mumbles out in almost a whine.

       "So sleep," I tell her, smiling a silly smile. "Don't mind me. I'm just lying here kissing you."

       "I know. I can't sleep if you're doing that."

      "You were before," I point out before leaning my head down to breathe in the fantastic scent of her hair. She smells like apple cinnamon, I think.

       "I was more tired then."

       "You're not tired now?"

       "Yes, I'm tired, but I can't relax if you're doing that."

      "What, this?" I ask and lightly kiss her forehead again. I know exactly what she means, but I'm going to kiss her until I can't get away with it any longer. "Or this?" I kiss her hair. "Or do you mean this?" This time, I kiss the tip of her nose.

       "All that," she tells me sleepily.

       She has beautiful lips.

       "Oh, okay. Well good then, that probably means this is fine."

      I pounce upon those beautiful lips of hers eagerly. I'm pushing it. At least this time I have a little more control so I don't go insane like before. She makes a tiny noise of complaint, but it's more of a 'dammit, I told you I was tired' and not so much a 'get the hell off me.' Tired I can handle just fine.

       I only apply enough pressure on her lips so that I can keep kissing her without overwhelming her. I'm here. I'm kissing you, and I don't want to stop.

       I pull back a second so I can whisper, "I missed you." Then, I go right back to kissing her. I could get addicted to these lips.

       I immediately notice the tension leave her before one of her hands reaches up to cup my cheek, and she really starts kissing me back. I'm a little surprised, but I don't question it.

        I reach up to hold her face, and her cheeks are wet. What?!

        I can't stand it. "What's wrong?" A million guesses run through my head.

        "I'm sorry, Jesse," she cries out sadly.

      "What? Why say that?" I hate it when women cry, and Marie crying rips my heart out of my chest.

       "For last week. I didn't mean to be a tease."

       "I didn't think you were," I say, trying desperately to figure her out. "If anyone needs to apologize it's me. I was a jerk."

        "No. You were just being you."

        "Thanks," I say sarcastically.

        "I didn't mean it like that."

      I scowl, hold the obvious question inside me, and ask, "Why do you think you were a tease? Because you asked me to stop? That's not being a tease. Don't get me wrong, I mean, I was very... frustrated, but that's because I pushed too hard."

       "I let it go too far," she tries to explain.

       No, you didn't let it go far enough, I think uncontrollably.

       She continues, "I led you to think going that far was what I wanted, so yes I was a tease."

      Just in case she can see me, I work hard to keep from rolling my eyes. I really hope I'm getting somewhere here, trying to figure her out. I have to keep her from tearing herself up like this. "Marie, if you had come on to me as strong as I did you and then said no, that would be being a tease. You're not a tease." No, you're just scared to death anytime I touch you. ....Did one of them do something to her?!

      I ask, "Who's called you a tease?" I'll kill 'em.

      She stays quiet.

      "Did you go to sleep?" I ask quietly.

      "Cristina," she whispers.

      I'd thought for sure she'd say what's-his-name. I was secretly hoping she would so I could have an even more solid reason to hate him. I'm a little surprised to hear her say Erin's cousin did it.

       "Why the hell would she do that?" I think aloud.

       She stammers, "Because of how ... I was with ... Dawson." 

       "How could she know anything unless ... he told her," I answer my own question. Sonofabitch!

       Marie buries her face in my chest. I squeeze her to me and wonder what to say next.
      "Okay," I say encouragingly with a good idea. "Think about who told you that. She's the enemy, right? Of course she would try anything and everything to make you doubt yourself." Good job, Jesse!
      When she doesn't say anything, I ask, "Doesn't that make sense?"
      "Yes," she answers sleepily, and I decide to let her sleep.
      I, however, am unable to sleep. I don't want to miss a moment of this. I want this. I want her. So bad. And not just sex.
      I have to close my eyes and take another deep breath. I shouldn't have even thought about it.
      Leave her alone, Jesse. She's sleeping.
      I decide to bury my nose in her hair, trying to fight the rampaging need for her. Doing this is a stupid idea because it only makes me want her more. Apple cinnamon. She smells terrific. I want a reminder of what she tastes like, I think as I allow myself to move my nose down past her ear.
      I stifle a whimper as the voice inside my head says, 'Let her sleep, Jesse.'
      But I want her!
      'She needs to sleep.'
      So, she can sleep. I only want a taste!

      My tongue darts out as I run my mouth along her neck. Oh yes, I remember now.
      She stirs a little, and I lift my head to try to see her in the semi-darkness. She looks to have quickly gone back to sleep, so I kiss her neck very softly. Several different possible future scenarios play out on my head, torturing me.
      She stirs again and mumbles, "Jesse, stop. I'm exhausted."
      "Believe me; I'm holding back. I'm having a hard time controlling myself," I say into her neck.
      "Go to sleep," she offers as a solution.
      "Not tired," I say before I lightly kiss those addictive lips.
      "Well I am. Do you need to go back to the couch?"
      I freeze. "Well, when you put it that way... " I laugh a little before I continue, "I'll behave."
      She nuzzles herself into the space between my neck and shoulders. I'm so happy I could cry. I wish she'd let me tell her I love her, but that freaks her out, I think while I limit myself to only running my fingers through her hair.
      I ponder why Marie says she can't handle this and that all the time. I think I have a piece of the puzzle in her lackluster step-father. She woke up crying after a dream about him, so what he did to her mom must've really affected her. Then whats-his-name cheated on her. Too much cheating. No wonder she doesn't trust anyone.
      I lie here and simply enjoy holding her until the alarm on my cellphone goes off.
     Shut up, stupid phone! I think as I make it stop. I'd set it early so that we'd have time to get ready and still have enough time to make it to the clinic.

      Marie stirs.
      "Don't forget your knee," I warn her quietly.
     She makes some little noise and nods before curling up into me again. I hold her just a little tighter, not wanting to let go.
      My alarm goes off again, and she decides she'll wait and shower later today after asking the doctor what to do. So, I make my way to her shower and remember that I forgot my shampoo. Pondering it for a few seconds, I go ahead and reach for hers, not intending to use much.

       Yep. Apple cinnamon, I think with a small laugh escaping me as I wash my hair with her shampoo. I think it's hilarious that I'm going to go around smelling like an apple pie all day.
       It's still a little dark when I exit the bathroom, all dressed and ready for work. I walk into Marie's bedroom and see that she's curled into as much a ball as her knee will let her, fast asleep.
       After doing what I can to help her get ready, we head out to the clinic. She lets me carry her to Martha, but she insists on hobbling into the clinic while I try to help as much as I can. They have to do some kind of scan. I end up having to call Lara to tell her I'm going to be late and why.

      Not too much later, Marie and I exit the hospital (pain medicine prescription filled) with her on crutches and wearing a small knee brace. Thankfully, it's just a sprain, and she should be better in a few weeks.
      As I watch Marie stubbornly make her way to Martha by herself, an idea occurs to me. She's not going to have an easy time making herself dinner tonight. I ask her about what she's going to do for lunch, and she absently waves her hand and says something about leftovers. I scowl and keep my thoughts to myself. I hate that I have to work today.
      When I drop her off at her house and help her inside, she thanks me for my help (it was my pleasure, trust me) and makes it clear that I shouldn't trouble myself about having to take care of her anymore.
      I do my best to hide my hurt with what she said. I want to help. I like to help.
      She asked me not to 'trouble myself.' Well, it's no trouble at all to handle dinner tonight.

     After work, I head over to The Swan and get a simple dinner for two to go. While I wait for the food to be prepared, I stop by one of those §1 movie rental machines. I randomly pick three.
      As I walk up the stairs to her front door, I see through the window that Marie sits on the couch watching TV. I really hope she doesn't throw me out since I'm coming over unannounced. I knew that if I'd asked, I'd only get shot down.

      As nervous as a tenth grader on his first date, I knock on the door. How does she do this to me?
      She answers the door after a few minutes of agony. I hope it takes so long because she has difficulty getting around. When she opens the door, she doesn't look surprised to see me. She must've looked through her window at me before answering my knock.
       "Ta da!" I cheer and hold up the to-go bags. "I brought dinner!" I smile, willing her to let me in and not get pissed off.
      "You did?" she asks while I stand here, lamely, on her front porch.
      "Yeah. I didn't like the idea of you having to eat leftovers, and I knew I wouldn't get off work in time to fix something, so I went and got us something. I hope that's okay," I add the bit at the end as a plea.
      "Uh. Okay," she says and moves aside so I can pass her on my way to the kitchen. She hobbles after me on her crutches, and I want so badly to just up and carry her. I know that wouldn't be welcome, so I restrain myself.

     She puts down her crutches and sits in the first chair as I pull stuff out of the bags. In my opinion, that place really must like using their bags because I got a separate bag for each item. What a waste.
     "What did you get?" Marie asks, sounding resigned.
     Now, this is an area that I hope I didn't screw up. "I got what looks like some kind of macaroni and cheese casserole thing. I thought it looked simple enough, and I've never seen you eat anything with meat in it so I wondered."
     She smiles a little smile at me and says, "My mother is a vegetarian. I'm not, really, but her eating habits rubbed off on me."
     "Oh," I say simply before I pull out a bottle of wine. Then, something occurs to me. "Um, what pain medicine did they put you on?"
      "Uh, something that starts with oxy something."
      "Oxycodone? Percocet?" I ask, and she nods, "Wow. Nice doctor. Be careful though, that shit's addictive." I hear her laugh, and I pull out a Coke for her to drink instead of what I'm having.
       After I hand her her Coke and pour myself a little wine, she makes some remark about red wine with what I selected to eat. I merely shrug and say it's what I wanted. She can't argue with that.

    We finish eating. Her face is very animated as she tells me about the time she and Cristina wore the same dress to prom. Then Cristina spilled punch on her dress which caused Marie to get pissed off and punch her.
    "Both our dresses were ruined for the pictures," she states with a vicious grin. "At least I didn't have a black eye."
    I can't help but laugh at the righteously-satisfied look on her face. Then I get up to do the dishes.
    "No, I'll -"
    "Hush, Marie, and let me do the damn dishes," I interrupt her. I had an inkling she might try to stop me.
    "But I feel fine!"
    "It's that medicine making you feel like Wonder Woman, and you're not," I say. She reaches for her crutches, mumbling something about me being the 'guest,' and I turn around to bark, "Sit! Down!" Damn. Me and my stupid temper. I immediately apologize to her shocked expression. I take a deep breath and say, "If you want to do something, why don't you go and pick out one of the movies I brought. They're on the coffee table."
     "You brought movies?" she asks.
     "Yes. I couldn't decide on one, so I got three. Pick one," I say with a smile.
     She chooses the movie with the longest playtime. I'm glad.
     A little ways into the movie, she remarks in a questioning tone, "So, you brought dinner."
     "Yes?" I answer, wondering where she's going with this.
     "And movies."
     "Correct."
     "Is this a date or something?" she asks with her eyes narrowed slightly.

     "Only if you want it to be," I answer, and I know my heart has to be plain on my face at this moment. She sits quietly in thought for too long, so I say, "I just want to be here... for whatever reason." And I want to stay the night again.
      She looks at her hands sitting in her lap.
      I take an enormous risk as I ask, "Can I stay here again tonight?"
      She expels a huge breath and asks a question of her own. "Sleeping on the couch?"
      "Only if I have to," I answer similarly to an earlier answer. It's killing me that I want to kiss her so very much, but I worry how she'd respond. Those perfect lips... I'll never get enough of them.
      "But I don't need you for help like I did last night," she states.
      "But I need you," I say, laying it on the line.
      "Jesse..." she whines with a worried look on her face.
      "Let's just finish watching the movie," I say quickly and capture one of her hands.