Title: Fire and Sand 1/1
Author: Shana Nolan
Rating: NC-17... duh!
Archiving: right now this is only dropping here, so GG for now...
Summary: Dare... General... smut... angst... ;-)
Disclaimers: uuum, Dare is so mine, so George better back off and let her play with his toys for a while. but he still owns 'em, dammit.
Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DIE! (and Jael :)) This started as an angst bunny, and after a bit o' help from my fellow Hos, got smuttier than planned. yay. And -technically-, I'm jumpin the gun and dropping this long before the middle part not-yet-done that's briefly alluded to-- but who cares for now! General Smut for the bday grrls!!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They always say that in the perfect world, one can live even in the face of bad news.

They must not know me.

Not that life is bad. But I am sitting here in the spaceport, waiting for a man I've not seen in five years and hoping that his face has a better expression on it than mine does.

But I have to wonder if I'm that lucky.

When the ship finally touches down, the piece of rusty shit that it is, I leap up from my wall perch and stand there like some nervous family member, waiting for the engine to cut out and the passenger ramp to drop to the hard surface of the pad, its edges scraping against the sand that's blown across the area since they cleaned it last.

And that's when I see him. Sweet Boonta. Fucking heart is practically pattering, and shortly following that urge is the want to feel his strong, powerful and nude frame pressed up against mine.

"Dare." He says as I stand vapor locked on his thighs shifting underneath the fabric of his pants, finding his voice first, a large bag slung over one of his shoulders.

I stand there like an idiot, drinking in his appearance. Holos have never done him justice—the man standing before me is truly a man now. The last vestiges of youth have slipped away for maturity and I find myself staring into teal grey eyes, my peripheral vision barely picking up that he's got a slight beard and his hair is sloppily pawned about his head.

But that braid is missing. I didn't actually think I would miss seeing that little leash so much.

That uniform is a piece of work too. Never saw one of those damn Republic straight jackets fit someone so well. "Hi Ben."

And that's when our standing apart ends. In a move of surprising speed, he drops the duffel to the ground in a cloud of dirt and wraps himself around me. Shit, there's more strength to his arms as they wrap around my frame, crushing the wind out of my lungs, and I like it. Tangling one hand in his hair and the other snaking around his waist, I let him cling on to me, his head pressing against mine so I can hear his breathing.

I mean, we both knew this wouldn't be an easy reunion. I knew what had happened, and despite the fact that news from the Inner Core takes its damn time getting to the Outer Rim, I got the story told to me by a couple smuggler friends -after- I got back home, and this was after the minor tantrum I threw in the spaceball pub when I found out that my favourite pair of do-gooders had been here when I wasn't.

That was three years ago.

So, as the technical hostess of this meeting, I guess I have to break the ice. "Gods, Ben, I've missed you."

Pulling away to smother my face with kisses, he nods quickly, "You have no idea how badly I've needed you."

Hmm... his face isn't as dark as I expected, but that may not be a good thing. Bottling the demons is worse than wearing them on your shoulder. "Let's go back to my place. Get you into something cooler."

He shakes his head and turns to look toward the ramp of the ship, backing out of his grip of me. What, am I missing something? He didn't bring...

Well, shit.

Walking down the ramp with a smile brighter than I care to see is the mini-version of all things Jedi. It's a fuckin' baby Braid, and he's walking this way...

"If you don't need anything, Master, I'll go get a transport and head for home before the second sun sets."

I blink.

Ben apparently catches my look. "Dare, this is Anakin Skywalker, my apprentice. And, yes, Ani, I'm fine. I'm sure you recall how to navigate around here, so get going. Your mother is expecting you."

Again, I blink. What the fuck?

The little Braid smiles at me and apparently figures out that I'm a local, judging by the quirk in his head. And of course, guessing by what I've just overheard, so is he, or at least he was.

But since when did the Jedi put a recruitment station on Tatooine?

"Pleased to meet you."

"Charmed, I'm sure," I manage, waiting for some great dollop of enlightenment over the whole affair. Yeesh, you go out of town for two weeks and the shit hits the fan...

Watching the boy go, guessing he's probably all of eleven or twelve, I shake my head and wonder just how much I lost in the interim between seeing those green-blue eyes.

But Ben has other plans. Waiting for some time, probably far enough away so that weird Jedi mojo isn't so strong between the two of them, he slides back against me and curves his hips to cradle under mine, kissing me again with a force to make my breath catch, parting my lips with wild abandon and practically licking my mouth dry.

If this doesn't move to someplace more private, I may make an ass of myself for him.

I take a step back and end up practically falling because Ben's still latched around me, but he pauses to grant me air when I stagger rather clumsily. "Please. Your place."

I nod numbly. Like I would say no to that. I have my moments, but I'm not that fucking stupid.

The ride in the hovercraft, despite the fact that it's only really ten minutes long, is too damn long. By the time I cut the engine and set my feet on the ground again, Ben is at my back, walking behind me with his duffel, watching me like a hawk as I unlock the door and step inside.

Which is exactly when he pins me to the wall. He hoists me so I'm just above his hips and my back is rammed against the surface, hooking his fingers at the waist of my pants and yanking them down, pulling the thong free too. Slipping over my now bare flesh, taking a few moments to fondle my ass before sliding a hand through my folds and penetrating me with a finger, he moans into my mouth, all the while suckling and biting at my lower lip.

The hand withdraws and I whimper at it, the attention bringing me very quickly to a very hard edge. There's no gentleness between us right now, and that's fine by me. Freeing himself with the sound of a zipper being undone and the shift of fabric, I feel his hand return once to slip between my legs and then what's there is hard, throbbing and exactly what I've been yearning for.

With a single, powerful thrust, his cock impales me to the hilt and I give a slight shriek, my spine jarring hard. Grinding his hips roughly against mine, his mouth shifting to my neck to suckle at the flesh there, I'm quickly giving over to him, the feeling of his member sliding easily in and out of me working a tight knot in my abdomen.

Growling at my throat, arching his hips sharply up, his flesh sliding hard against mine as he draws back to the point of his slick tip striking the edge of my folds and then ramming me fully, I gasp and tangle my hands in his hair, fighting for breath.

This is... Gods, I've needed this.

The growl breaks away with a sharp inhalation of breath and his teeth easing on my neck flesh. With a strangled shout his hips snap up one more short time and I feel his hot seed spill into me, Ben finally panting hard when his member stops spasming within my internal muscles.

Swallowing hard, loosening my grip of his scalp as his thrusts ease, I pull his head back up to me, kissing him and waiting for something more than a grunt and growl.

His eyes locking on mine, the oceanic depths filled with something I wasn't quite expecting, I lower my voice, feeling strangely tender all at once.

"Ben, talk to me."

He pauses for a long second and slips his hands from my waist, easing the pair of us from the wall to slide in a heap on the floor. Trying to say my name, his voice cracking, he slides a slightly calloused hand across my cheek. Savouring the feel of his masculine form pressed up against mine, I watch him closely, waiting for some kind of indication of what's next.

And that's when he breaks down crying.

* * *

It's a few hours later when I wake up, Ben's head snuggled under mine, his arms firmly wrapped around me. I dragged him to my bed after he broke down and forced him to enjoy the fact that he's got a captive audience, and now, here we are, and I -really- want to know what can make a man like him cry like Kiri after she's skinned her knees.

Though I do have my suspicions.

"Ben, you awake?"

He stirs against me and his hair tickles across my chin. Being ticklish is not a good thing right now... "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't apologise, just explain."

Shifting, the blanket slightly tangled in his feet, he looks at me. "Well, I've wanted to see you again, but I've been so busy, and then in the ship when I realised this was the first time we've ever been... by ourselves, I just—"

I hate when my hunches are right. "Yeah, I know. Ya wanna know how many times I've wanted to tell you I'm sorry?"

He nods and slides a hand across my ribcage, apparently digging for my heartbeat and the affirmation that this is real. Can't say I blame him. "Same for you. I almost didn't come, but I felt like I owed you something."

"Oh, you mean a major ass-kissing apology for not telling me about coming out here a couple years ago?"

He grins and shrugs slightly. "We had no idea, it was a sudden thing. We were traveling with some wanted people and Tatooine was an ideal choice."

Oh, I haven't heard this part of the story... "Ideal? Here? You're kidding."

The smile fades a bit. "We were avoiding the Trade Federation."

"Oh." Yeah, that would be about right. "They're not real fond of here, go figure. It just pisses me off that the one time I'm on Corellia, half thinking about hopping a transport to Coruscant, there's no one to visit."

He nods and rolls to rest on his side, scratching his beard Hmm, I don't know if I like him with it. "Well, it wasn't much fun, and afterwards..."

Aaah, this would be where the smuggler's story picks up. "Yeah, I heard. It sucks, Ben, big time, and I'm still sorry. Are you coping okay or is that Yoda guy bossing you around to compensate?"

He gives me a dirty look. I guess Yoda, whomever the hell he is, is still not a topic for intimate affairs. "No, but I've got my hands full. The boy, Anakin, is a handful, and this is when I'm not already doing a half-million things for the Republic. What about you? I didn't see Lily or the kids."

I grin; dumb luck that they go out of town just before his ship lands. "Off to Eisley for a couple days, which is not to forget the podracing... tomorrow, I think. Kiri wanted to go for her ninth birthday."

"Podracing?"

"Yeah, I don't get it either, but I guess I'm too old to understand, not that I got it when I was Lily's age."

"That's rather ironic. Wonder if Ani will go with his mother."

I poke him in the chest. Now I'm -really- curious who the mini-Braid is. "So who is that kid, anyways?"

"Long story short?"

"Yes, please."

He points in the general direction of the centre of town. "Found him when he—we were here. Putting it in your terms, he's the Boy Wonder for the Jedi, and I got him whenever... well, you know, but his mother still lives here in the slave quarters. He heard that I was coming here to see you and asked to come along."

"A former slave? Not for those giant intestinal worms, right?"

He shakes his head, finding my less than kind estimation of the Hutts amusing. "No, for a shoppe keeper named Watto."

I blink. "No way."

"Yes. He also used to podrace."

Oh, man, now I know why the name was ringing a bell when I was introduced. "Skywalker?"

Ben nods.

"The little shit that made me lose three bets in a row?"

And then it's his turn to blink. Talk about a different point of view over the kid. "I suppose so. You bet on those races?"

I shrug and run a hand through his hair, feeling the strands slip through my fingers. Oh, I like his mane longer. "When I have to. A lot of the scum I associate with are big fans."

"Ah. Well, that'd be him, then. Anyways, how are you doing?"

I snort and hook my hand around his neck, pulling him back closer to me. Apparently catching on quick, he shifts to lay partially on top of me. "Not bad, but I'm thinking of changing my job. Too many fucking people in the bounty hunting business anymore, and half of them are incompetents."

Oops, sore spot for him. "Not back to assassination, right?"

"Nah," I say, soothing him. It's true enough. The business of capture and killing has been getting too heavy with the stink of amateurs, which pisses me off. Half of them don't have the balls to take the shit I did willingly in my prime. "More like smuggling and arms dealing."

"Oh." he sighs and gets more comfortable, which includes wedging his hips between mine. This is giving me ideas.... "That's good then."

"Yeah, it pays the bills."

He nods slowly and shifts again, this time his hands sliding down my body. Hmm... I don't think I'm alone in my ideas. "Dare, I wanted to thank you, I shouldn't dump all my issues on you, you've got your own problems."

"That'd I'd rather forget in the present company, as you should about yours."

"You're probably right."

I arch an eyebrow. "Probably?"

"Alright, you're completely right, and for that," rising up to his hands and knees, Ben smiles slowly and moves to loom over top of me, "I should thank you."

I've come to the conclusion that there are times when you ignore the bad shit and live in the moment.

Like now.

Tangling my hands in his hair, I haul him down, pulling him from his support. Just before tackling his mouth, I grin. "Thank me properly."

He laughs. Now there's a nice sound. "I'll do my best."

Stopping my next comment with his lips, he kisses me, laying against me now as his lips part mine and his tongue slides hungrily against mine, the heat of his mouth penetrating my own. His hips, strong, muscular examples of masculine perfection, shift against my own, thin blanket tangling at our feet and guaranteeing a comic escape from the bed... should we ever leave.

One of his hands slips down my ribcage, his fingers caressing across the curve of my breast, pausing when he catches me sigh into his mouth, to which he cups the flesh, rubbing slightly calloused fingerpads across my nipple. Arching up into him, his nipping on my lower lip pauses when the curve of my inner thigh strikes the tip of his increasingly aroused member.

"Not so fast, Ben."

Drawing back enough to half-purr at me, he nuzzles my chin and grazes my lips with his teeth. "Of course not."

And that's when he takes my voice away.

The hand at my breast slips away as he withdraws from my face, backing slightly down, his lips tracing the line of my jaw to curve down my throat, along my collarbone and achingly slow down my sternum, the ends of his hair tickling across my breasts as the blanket slides back with him, exposing me to air. Drifting up and catching my gaze, those oceanic eyes teasing me with a heady stare, he waits until I inhale a forgotten breath and descends his mouth to suckle on one of the now thoroughly tweaked buds.

He's trying to kill me, he has to be.

His other hand massaging over my ribcage, finding places of sensitivity -I- miss sometimes, he runs his fingers over my waist to play briefly at the belly button ring, then slips them under my back and runs them the length of my hips to the curve of my buttocks, wedging his hand between me and the bed, kneading the muscles, inclining me to arch my hips up, which I comply to.

Biting my lip, I can feel the control slipping away, not that I really care. Darting his tongue in a tight circle, his breath hot against tweaked nerves, his lips slide easily across the soft flesh. Tightening a hand at his hair, pulling him tighter against me, I let the little moan betray me.

Ben chuckles and dares to nip, to which I arch my back. His other hand slips down to circumnavigate my thigh, his fingers experimentally brushing across the very edges of nether flesh, the sudden digging of my fingers into his scalp proving to him that I definitely approve of his actions.

Raising up away from my body, licking his lips slowly, he rocks back and in that brief moment I notice that he's completely hard, his engorged member standing away from the rest of his lean, muscled body. The hand between my legs shifts and with a hedonistic smile as he scoots a little further down the bed, his fingers slide through the wet flesh, his mere touch alighting a rather vicious fire somewhere inside me. Slipping them up and down through slick folds, caressing across my clit and watching me as he lowers himself down to my level again, there's a look of satisfaction in his eyes shortly before he drops down to the point where I can no longer see his half his face over the rise of my pelvic girdle.

And that's when that last vestige of overrated control breaks away. Inciting a high pitched moan from me, his tongue replacing his fingers in the ardourous pattern he's working, I can feel the bristle of his unkempt chin tickling the outer edges of hot skin, alternating between suckling and nipping at my clit, his saliva mixing with my own wetness. At some point his hand returns, and with a delicate tickling at my opening, he lingers cruelly for a few moments, actually exposing a bit of the area to dry air before descending down once more on me and penetrating me swiftly and efficiently with a finger.

The sound caught in my throat stands somewhere between a growl and a yelp and I can't help but rear up in reaction, the muscles in my back snapping taught with tension, the nearly painful rivulets of sexual energy coalescing somewhere inside me to create a knot.

Pumping his finger for a few minutes, easing his mouth slowly from my folds and then descending with a graze of teeth along aching nerves, he catches the moan that slips free, withdrawing his mouth totally, his thumb roaming over my clit as he slides back above me, his hips aligning with mine as his hand still works me over.

Dropping his knees down, sliding free his hand and pulling it sumptuously through my curls before wrapping strong fingers around his own length, a purr rumbles in his throat as the throbbing tip of his shaft presses against me, working through the folds before it finds my opening, looming in torturous delight ever close to exactly where I want it to be.

Using one of my hands, having fallen from his head to clasp at the bed sheet beneath me, hooks at his neck, yanking him down closer. Writhing, far too close to climax to give a damn about decorum, I extend my tongue and lap at his lips. "Please, Ben."

Obliging me with a kiss, descending his mouth to mine, he chuckles, his hand caressing over his own member before finally rocking his hips up, pushing his hardness slowly inside me, the friction of his hot, begging flesh against my own enough for me to gasp.

Stealing my breath, his tongue sliding past the parting of my lips as my eyes close, the velvet caress matches the sensation of sliding in to the hilt, Ben breaking away with his own sharp intake of breath when the walls around him nearly shake with the filling. Exhaling slowly, suckling at my lower lip before slipping down to taste the flesh at my throat, he withdraws back, his hips pulling away from mine before snapping back a little harder and faster this time, impaling himself deeply, the muscles of his buttocks and thighs flexing with vicious strength.

I can feel it, you know, it's just like that first rush of painfully hot water on an icy morning, pounding and washing over every pore of your body, waking up every little pore with exquisite sensation, but unlike the water on the outside, its all internal. There is no great flood washing you physically away, but you sure can't tell for sure. Your mind reels and even though the power of it scares you sometimes, you love every fucking second of it.

I bite my lip, feeling his teeth bite near the vein at my throat, his beard raspy against the skin, my hands tight at his back. It's a few more seconds, a few more minutes, Gods only really know, but as that white heat strikes me, causing me to shudder hard, I close my eyes and find myself holding my breath, bucking hard against his hips and their fierce tempo.

Thrusting through my reaction, his grip at my neck a bit tighter, he arches his back, using my reaction to press me further up the bed, the move shoving him straight to the quick, the bone of his own pelvic girdle rubbing against mine as he shifts in a semi-circle, moving his diamond hard shaft against sensitive inner walls, intensifying my own little rivulets of raw energy.

There's a growl, deep and rumbling, in his chest, and it works up through his throat as he releases my neck to let his mouth part in his own strangled sounds, the one hand at the other side of my neck tightening to hold my head closer, the one resting at my waist curling its fingers in to dig at the rise of my pelvis. The nearly preternatural sound manifesting a sharper edge as it breaks free of his lips, I feel the harsh, final snap of powerful male hips as he buries himself deeply inside me, his member spasming hard with the release of liquid heat, coating my insides with the sticky material.

Panting hard, rising up to shower kisses, touching his lips against mine in slaked tenderness, his tongue darting out to dance with mine, I can feel my own heart pound, the look in his eyes as he opens them slowly as deep as the blue streaks in the irises themselves. Easing his weight down on me, pushing the hair off my face and wiping away the sweat, he nuzzles me again with his nose, his voice deep and breathy. "Thank you."

And this is how one becomes a puddle of happy, sweaty, gelatinous goo within two words.

* * *

If there's one good thing about Tatooine, it's the night. The heat breaks, the markets close and therefore cut down on the activity around the city and most people, those that choose to spend time socialising, whatever that is, are too busy to bother the likes of me.

The night is also the only time I can actually enjoy something like a hot bath. Water is so fucking precious here, we really have to watch the usage of it, which is why I'm grateful that A) I'm wise enough to not waste it and B) have the money to have it for luxurious things like, say, a bath.

The temperature outside having finally dropped, both suns well descended and being left with a house free of children and siblings, Ben having stepped out to go to dinner with the Baby Braid and his mother, I found myself yielding to urges that only surface when I'm truly content. Pulling candles from the store of them we use in power outages, digging out one of my favourite but rarely used incenses, I decked out the bathroom, bathing myself not only in candlelight and sweet smelling smoke, but gently lapping water.

I'm such a fuckin' water baby.

It's also good for clearing my thoughts. Seeing Ben again is like waking a part of myself I haven't seen in a while, and sitting here with my hair pasted to my head with moisture, I can sense that he feels similarly. The fact that we've dodged the topic of this being the first time we've been together without the great and now late Jinn is disconcerting, but I'll keep my tongue in order to keep Ben from slipping into a state. I've still got those demons nipping at my ankles, but I suppose knowing that there is still a glimmer of hope in those beautiful eyes of Ben's is enough for me to shove them down with the rest of the hellspawn I earn with my job.

But, dammit it all, I'm going to miss the feel of those strong hands at my back, at my face, around my waist. As much as I adore the man that's left me a grinning idiot tonight, he can't replace the Jedi Master that helped to end my more nefarious days.

But the memories are sweet, so I guess that's what counts. Fuck that, the memories are hot, bothered and way too filled with tactile sensation to be good for me.

And sitting in a tub with the steam of fresh, clear water rising slowly to fog the mirror is making them all the more vivid. My head resting on the edge, my knees drawn up, my legs relaxed open as I lounge back and play inside my mind, I let my own hand slide down through the water in a mimicry of earlier and a few years past, imagining that it's actually a masculine touch making the waves lap at my shoulders. Closing my eyes, I can see the rest of the body the hand's attached to, the chiseled outline flickering in the candlelight through the red haze of my eyelids.

With a slight breeze that causes the smoke to dance erratically in the air, not that I actually notice it, the water gurgles slightly as a hand larger than my own slips past the surface of the steaming water, sliding down my leg to fall where my own fingers have come to lay, urging them away in order to replace them.

The whisper of warm breath tickles at my ear and I notice the brush of something slightly rough at my cheek. His other hand landing at a shoulder, he whispers silkily, "Ssshhh. Hold on a bit longer to that image, won't you?"

I nod numbly. I'm so caught between world of reality and not, I'm all too happy to agree. That is, until, my soft breathing breaks with a swift gasp as the hand between my legs begins to work sensuous patterns over water softened flesh.

"Don't say anything."

Again, I nod, my eyes still closed. The fingers dart over nub to trace at the opening lower down, tempting me to shift against his hand, the water lapping a little more insistently. Parting my lips as a nerve is struck just right, I feel my breath stolen by the warmth of his mouth, his moist lips caressing across my own as he slips his tongue past my teeth, sliding the velvet heat across the bottom of mine, stroking it gently and at the same rhythm of his hand, shifting his head to better cover my mouth, his nose slipping across my cheek.

When I whimper he draws away, chuckling. "The great Dare whimpers now, hmm?"

Opening my eyes heavily, I focus on Ben, his jacket off, the cream shirt half unbuttoned and exposing a V of his bare chest, the sprinkling of hair a ruddy brown in the flickering candlelight. His hair is soft and falling to the side, some of the moisture clinging it down, framing his eyes.

"For you, yes. Just this once."

He smiles and I feel myself sink lower in the tub. This is a smile that could warm the ice off a comet.

"Join me."

Nodding and freeing his hand from its watery interest, he rises from his kneeling position, unbuckling the belt and setting it on the counter nearby, watching me as I watch him. Next he pulls free the shirt, using his fingers to release the buttons from their holes and slides the fabric off his chest and shoulders, his skin glinting in the warm light. Waiting for me to lean forward, which I catch myself doing when his fingers hook at his waist, he slides his hands to his hips, pausing to smile again.

Then, with the simplicity of three movements, he releases the fly button, unzips and pushes the dark fabric free of his well-honed legs.

And people wonder why I got picky about my idea of good male traits.

Setting a hand on the edge of the tub, to which I grab the stopper and drain a little water in order to prevent a flood in the flat, he raises a leg up, setting a bare foot in the water, stepping inside the relatively small but not cramped tub. Sitting down slowly, his face relaxing as the heat of the water seeps into his skin, he extends a hand out to me.

Accepting, I shift forward, sliding up and over his legs as he settles his back against the edge of the tub, sighing deeply. Sitting down on his lap a little down on his thighs, I set my hands on his chest, water creeping up with me as I rub absent circles over the lines of sinewy muscles.

"That feels so good."

I smile, dropping my hands below the water line, feeling the hard edges of abdominal muscles. "How was dinner?"

"Good," he murmurs. "I guess it worked out all right that I brought him with me."

Yeah, I could tell that much by the way the kid looked at him. The eyes screamed carefully reigned gratitude, the kind you'd expect the Jedi to refrain from expressing at regular intervals.

"But thank you for giving me my esca—"

His voice cuts off with a strangled moan. Guess that would have something to do with the fact that my hands have now slipped into his lap, one resting just below his waist and the other cupping and massaging him. "You're always welcome here, Ben."

Giving up on speech, his head rests back on the edge of the tub, his mouth slightly agape. Trailing my thumb to the base of his shaft, wrapping my fingers delicately around, I work my hand slowly up, savouring the feel of this oh-so-valued organ beginning to harden in my grip. He gasps a little when my index finger strikes the tip, his hips lurching up a little underneath me, to which I laugh.

"Thank you. Did you plan this?"

Working my hand up and down a little faster, I shake my head. "Not really, but convenience being what it is, I decided to... grab... the opportunity."

His eyes roll back a little when my thumb strikes a particularly sensitive spot, his hips now moving to my ministrations, the water thrashing a bit around us. Shaking my head, enjoying his reactions but a little wanting of my own, I slide up, pressing my wet body against his, standing out of the water a bit to slide down his front, my breasts pressing into him. Coming in contact with the swollen tip, I lick my lips and wiggle a tad, adjusting my legs enough to sit down on him within the confines of the bathtub.

Hearing him hiss through his teeth as his length is fully impaled, my own breath manifesting as a pleased moan when my hips touch his again, I find his hands landing around my waist, gripping me firmly. With an upright shift, he presses hard into my inner core, settling down to withdraw and repeat the gesture, my own hips gyrating forward and backward in a rolling motion to complement the feelings created by his movements. Sighing vocally, I can tell that the soreness from the last day or so has kept me a little on the edge, and I rock forward, pressing up against his chest.

A growl starting in his chest, the sound of the water slapping against my back inciting him, he pumps hard up into me, clenching the muscles directly beneath me as the flow of bath water shifts with him, groaning when I roll my hips fully, nearly yanking him totally free until he hooks his fingers into my ass to drive me back down, pulling me onto him again.

Burying my head under his chin, I gasp when he strikes against a sensitive spot, nearly sending me over right there. Shaking his head, his hands off my waist and push me completely free of his length to which I open my eyes. What the hell is he doing?

Kissing my forehead, he turns my shoulders gently, encouraging me to stretch out with my back to him. Getting a pretty good idea, I comply and hook my hands on the opposite end, spreading my legs and relaxing my back to slip a little lower in the water, feeling his hands slide up over my thighs to hook at the underside of my hips. Within moments he's resheathed inside me again, rocking forward, curving his hips to hook under mine and shove himself hard against inner walls, his shoulders touching the middle of my back, one of his hands snakes around my thigh to trail past my abdomen and brush through curls to strike screaming nerves.

If I opened my eyes I think I'd miss some of this. As is I almost miss him murmur against my shoulderblades, "Come on, come for me."

I'm panting and all too willing to agree to that. With a whimper, I tighten my grip on the tub's edge, setting a knee on the bottom to brace myself a tad better, I feel him driving himself harder and faster into me, the hand down there working fast hard circles over my clit.

His is a reckless movement, the water wild about us, and his voice is seriously edged. "Ooh, that's... uunnggghhh—aaah—"

Biting back the scream, I feel him come hard and long just as the edge rips away releasing all that energy that started the second I hit the water, and I lose track of time. By the time I can actually let go of the rim, I'm being urged into his grip on the other side of the tub, and I sigh happily, or at least I think I sigh.

I mean, given what's just happened, who really cares? I could have sung the national anthem and it wouldn't change my current feeling.

* * *

"You're serious."

"Well, why the hell not?"

"That's a big move. Your sister coming with you?"

I smile and snatch back my brush. "Not the first time, but maybe I get settled and stuff."

There's a hand at my knee, and given the fact where's it touched me in the last few days, I'll let it slide. "In some ways it's not any better than here."

"The mean temperature is significantly lower than here and there's a helluva lot more water there. What's so wrong with Corellia?"

Ben raises an eyebrow and turns his head to look for his jacket. Hmm... wonder if I hung it up in my closet... "It has it's own flaws. The job makes enough trouble for you already, why would you drop your current network of friends in favour of a bunch of unknown cutthroats and smugglers?"

I shrug. Sure, he has a point, but there's only so much of home you can take before you have to leave for good. "I have friends over there. Besides, and call me weird for thinking it, but being a bounty hunter on Tatooine is becoming way too fucking unpredictable. At least on Corellia I'm closer to the Republic... and you."

Ben grins and tosses me a hair tie. "If you get the kids there that means they'll never be at risk for slavery."

"Yep. Nice bonus." I wait for a bit to make sure I can actually change topics. "So what about us? You gonna visit me so rarely that everything we see each we nearly make asses out of ourselves in public?"

He shrugs and has a moment of that duty thing. "I'll try."

"I guess that'll do for now. You feeling better?"

He nods slowly, quickly glancing off into space. "Yeah. Few less holes in my psyche."

"Good," I say, standing and sliding up behind him, loving the fact that we stand at an equal height. Setting my head on his shoulder, I point out the half opened window. "Sun's rising. You want a ride to Baby Braid's place and then to the landing pad?"

Turning around and kissing me, he smiles, the warmth in his eyes a little mischievous. "Sure, that'd be nice of you. However, with the way you drive, I'm running early."

Evil thoughts abound. "Oooh, really."

"Yes."

"Good, then I have a few," my hand snakes down his front between us, "ways to take care of that bonus time."

Ben just chuckles.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Shana, General's Ho dpangel@thegrid.net

"Now that's important to me. I need to die misunderstood." --Alex, Shallow Grave