|Νίκη (_nike) wrote in peripeteia_rpg,|
@ 2009-06-22 20:42:00
|Entry tags:||nike, phobos|
RP: A Date!
Who: Ginny and Jackson
What: They go on a date and silliness ensues, as well as some flashbacks.
When: June 19 after they meet at her game
Ginny was nervous.
No, that was the understatement of the millennium. She had no idea what had made her suggest this. The imp of the perverse, maybe. Which was a thought she didn't really want to pursue. After all, given the... weirdness of the dreams and such, thinking about imps wasn't as strange as it usually would have been.
She'd left her hair down, brushing it and praying the humidity wouldn't make it frizz too badly while she walked. There was a chance of showers tonight, after all. She was dressed for clubbing, although she'd skipped the heels. After all, she was planning to walk a lot, and she had no intention of doing it in heels. No, a pair of fashionable black mock-trainers were much more comfortable for the evening of walking and dancing. And since she was wearing the trainers, she'd decided on a sporty tennis-type skirt that would show off her football-players legs. It was super short and white with a few pleats to let it move a bit, but when it did, the curve of her arse was clearly visible. On top was a simple cami, black, but this was of a loose silk weave that fluttered in the light breeze. She wasn't wearing any jewelry, and only carried a tiny purse more a little bag on a long string in which she'd slipped some cash, her credit card, and her drivers license. She'd skipped make-up, finding that dancing usually meant she only sweat it off.
It wasn't too bad of a walk to the bar where he worked, and, since she was about five minutes late, she wasn't at all surprised to find him leaning against the wall outside.
She smiled from a distance as she walked up to him. "Jackson," she said simply, coming to stop standing in front of him, the breeze blowing her hair slightly so that it brushed softly against his bare forearm.
"Ginny," he replied in a low rumble, his eyes dark and half lidded as they gazed down at her. Lifting his hand, he reached out to take a lock of hair brushing his arm and rubbed the silky strands between his fingers. She wasn't exactly wearing club gear but for as much walking as they'd be doing tonight, it was perfect. It certainly suited her, showing off her long legs perfectly. He wore a simple white tank top, tight low riding jeans and his favorite pair of Docs. The boots were for ass kicking, the top was for intimidation. It was amazing how many fights could be prevented (or started) when he simply crossed his arms and flexed. Somehow even drunks didn't want to mess with a guy as big as him. Shame too. He so loved pounding the shit out of people.
His eyes trailed up from her delicately tapered legs, well formed thighs (his mind was filled with ideas about those thighs), narrow hips, flat stomach, small but pert breasts, muscular arms and grinning face. Her skin was clear and now a golden color from her game in the sun that afternoon. She was, in a word, beautiful. Almost ethereal, like she was lit from within. "Ready?" he asked.
She grinned, then turned, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a toss of her head and setting of with a sway of her hips to saunter towards the club that Nickie had gone on and on about. She didn't really get most of what was being said, but the way the girls all talked about it, she knew it had to be hot.
Just like when he'd been sitting in the stands, she could feel his eyes on her. But while they'd made her nervous during the game, now they made her blood heat up. But that was all right. She had a feeling his was heating up too, and let her hips sway a bit more, just in case she was wrong. She just hoped she wasn't make a complete fool of herself in the process.
"I'll take that as a yes," he murmured to himself, watching Ginny's hips sway beneath the long curtain of her hair. How she got away with such a mass of hair with her job was beyond him but it made for a nice sight in his eyes. He caught up with her and tucked her arm in the crook of his elbow like earlier. "You look very nice tonight. I particularly like your skirt. Did you have a good afternoon?" he asked as they walked, letting her lead him as he still had no idea where they were headed.
"I had a lovely afternoon. I took a nice long, cool bath, and then an even longer nap while you were busy slaving away at your job so now I'm all rested and fresh for a night of fun. You?" she asked, turning to look up at him. "Did you have a good day at work?" She didn't ever realize that her fingertips were stroking his forearm where she held his elbow until she felt them brush over a pulse point in his elbow. It was slightly embarrassing how little control she seemed to have around him. She was never like this. Oh, she was flirty, sure. But not like this.
"I wouldn't say it was a great day at work. I stood there for a few hours, had a break, stood some more. I didn't get to beat anyone up unfortunately. No one's really drunk at nine at night. I did get to toss a couple of people who were looking to start a fight about fifteen minutes before you got there." He tried, but not very hard, to not think about her taking a bath. "It isn't a great day at work unless there's work to do otherwise it's just a lot of standing around. So what sort of club is this? I don't dance well, I should have told you that earlier."
"I have no idea. All the girls on the team go on and on about it, but, well, my Greek just isn't all that good. And it doesn't matter if you don't dance well. You're a guy. You can get away with doing the 'frat-boy shuffle'. You know, kind of swaying back and forth and not picking up your feet and groping any female within range of your hands," she teased, wondering why the thought of him groping other women gave her a little twist to her stomach. Now that was just ridiculous. Just because they came here together didn't mean they were together. There was nothing stopping him from leaving with someone else. Hell, there was nothing stopping her from leaving with someone else.
"I'm a better dancer than that. Not much better, but I don't go dancing with a cup of beer nor do I pump my fists and shout while jumping in place thinking that I am god," he replied with a grin. Funny that he'd been grinning a lot since he'd arrived in Athens. Not big grins or even smiles, but usually he was so straight faced and dour that he didn't normally crack any sort of smile unless it was an unfriendly smirk. But with Keiran and especially with Ginny, there'd been a lot more smiles. Maybe because he felt... good in this place, he didn't know. "I can hold a rhythm, I just can't do any fancy moves."
"Well, don't worry. I'll teach you. I'm a good dancer." Which really only made sense. She was a professional football player, after all. "Assuming you want to dance with me, that is. Hell, assuming you want to dance at all. You might want to just sit at a table and watch," she said with a hint of a smirk, leaning slightly against his arm as they walked. She didn't know why, but she was feeling moved to mark him before they even got to their destination. Well, lately, she'd been feeling these sorts of things a lot, and she was finding it best to just go with the flow.
"And pass up a chance to have you grinding all over me? I think not," he replied, looking down at her teasing grin with intent eyes. His tone was teasing but his eyes were anything but. He felt like a predator stalking his prey and her soft breasts pressed against his arm were not helping. His predatory instincts merely jumped into hyperdrive. "Besides, you said you'd teach me to dance and I want to be taught." Although they were passing from one neighborhood into another, it was hard to tell a difference, except that there seemed to be more pedestrians at this time of night and they were all scantily and brightly dressed.
"I was just giving you the chance to back down, Jackson. After all, you've been at work all day. Maybe you don't want to have my hot, sweaty body rubbing against you in the middle of a crowded dance floor," she said, licking her lips as they assumed that knowing smirk that a woman confident in her sexuality wears, looking up at him from under her long, sun-bleached lashes. "After all, once the fight is engaged, I always win," she teased lightly.
"Not every fight," he teased back his eyes glued to her tongue licking her lips and liking that look on her face. But his interest was spoiled by the surety of his words and a sickening feeling of guilt that came with that. A brief fluttering of confusion crossed his face and he sighed and shook his head. "I can't tell what's mine and what's... not anymore. And what isn't mine, why am I feeling it?" He shook his head again, more to clear it than the frustration he felt. "Tonight's not about that. So what's the name of this club?"
His words sent a feeling of freezing cold dread down her spine, her blood rushing from her head so she swooned slightly against him. Breathing heavily, she closed her eyes a moment. "I... I don't know," she whispered. "The... the club. Right." She paused, trying to shake off the overwhelming fear his words had conjured. "The club... is called Karma. Or something like that. That's what it sounded like." She laid her head on his chest, not even thinking about how strange it was to feel so sure he'd support her. "But you're right. Tonight is about having fun," she whispered, focusing on the now and not... whatever was making her feel this fear.
He stopped in the depressed doorway of a closed shop and pulled Ginny into his arms. She'd practically collapsed on the sidewalk and that sort of reaction to his thoughtless words concerned him. It couldn't be the heat as it was fairly cool this late at night. He stood there with his arms around her, slowly running his hand up and down her back. "Whatever it was, it's ok now," he murmured against her hair. This protectiveness was all his or at least it felt all his. Maybe it was the other's too, but this felt right. "Deep breaths and just let it run its course. That's the only way I've figured out to make it go away quickly."
She did as he suggested, deep breaths in and out while she learned against his strength, feeling comforted by his arms. Slowly, she felt the fear passing, her arms still shaking slightly, but feeling better the longer she stood in his arms. "I... need a drink. Not alcohol. Water. Let's get a bottle of water before we get to the club," she finally said, gathering the tattered shreds of her courage and taking a step back so she could look up at him with a slightly quivery smile on her face.
How odd that he spent his life intimidating people yet with her he felt no compunction at all to want her afraid of him or afraid in general. "I see a gyro cart across the street," he said, stepping out of the doorway with Ginny still in his arms and crossing the bumper to bumper traffic and heavy pedestrian traffic with ease. He gave the man a Euro and pointed to a bottle of water, handing it to Ginny when he received the cold, moisture laden bottle. "Here." Leading her over to a bus bench, he sat them down and kept rubbing her back as she greedily drank the water. "You ok now?" He'd barely known her a handful of hours but already he knew that she didn't seem the type to scare easily so whatever had happened had affected her deeply.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay now. I'm sorry I got so... weird." The bottle was empty, so she threw it in a trash can inside the bus stop and stood up, smiling down at him. "And, Jackson? Thanks," she said, holding out a hand to him so they could get on their way to the club.
It wasn't too much further, and there was a large crowd outside the club. She moved close to him again, letting him intimidate them through the crowd and then she flirted at the bouncer to get them inside. Surprisingly, though, the bouncer didn't seem too receptive to her flirting, but he was definitely looking at Jackson's rippling muscles.
They made their way into the club, and Ginny noticed something really quickly. There were a lot of men here. There were quite a few women. But the men... were mostly dancing with each other. Slowly, she started to chuckle. "I... think this is a gay bar," she whispered to him, only then noticing a rainbow flag behind the bar.
Jackson took a good long look around him as well, at the bright rainbows and the way a lot of the men were looking at him like a side beef. Oh shit. He'd been hit on a few times in the past so that was nothing new but he'd never been in the middle of a gay club fending off grabby hands and propositions like a swarm of bees either. "It certainly looks that way. And why were your teammates going on and on about a gay bar? Why would they come here in the first place? It's not like they can pick up men here."
"I don't know. Maybe because they don't want to pick up men?" she said with a shrug. "Gay clubs are safe for women like us. But don't worry, I'll protect you. Besides, you're coming home with me, right? Even if you're not really, you can certainly tell them that. We're just tourists in the wro-"
She stopped abruptly as the lights dimmed and flashing, strobing spotlights lit what was apparently was a stage. Whatever she'd been about to say dyed on her tongue as one of the most flamboyantly dressed, or make that undressed, men she had ever seen... posed.
She found it hard to look away from him, her eyes riveted to his torso, and the very obvious bulge in his very skimpy pants.
"Oh. Dear. God," she whispered, blushing scarlet. Was this why they came here? For a show???
Looking between Ginny and the stage, a truly amused smile tugging his lips. "Should I be jealous?" he murmured in her ear as the women screamed and some of the men did too. This was turning out to be a far more amusing night than he'd originally anticipated. Her blush made it all the funnier. "Never seen a scantily clad man before?" Which it was entirely possible she hadn't.
She totally missed his amusement, though. "It's not what he's wearing... it's what he's doing," she whispered, her eyes glued to his thrusting hips and... impossibly... the bulge growing larger. He was... turned on by what he was doing? Tearing her eyes away the stage, she turned and looked up into Jackson's amused face, her own smile spreading as she met his eyes.
"So... are you going to dance with me? Or are you going to find someone else to dance with tonight?" she teased softly, once more leaning closer to him and pressing her breasts against his chest, her earlier fear totally forgotten now and her hormones completely awake after only a few moments of watching the show.
"Ah... I think I'll dance with you. The rest of these guys intimidate me. They dance way too well," he replied, tugging her toward the center of the room where the dance floor lay. Once there, he pulled her into his arms, pressing her breasts against him again and grinding their hips together. This part he at least knew. "Were you getting turned on by that dancer getting turned on by dancing? Do you have a little voyeur inside you?" he murmured in her ear, wondering if she'd hear him above the pounding beats and screams of the crowd still watching the show.
"What guy?" she whispered breathless at the feel of his hands on her back. She was no virgin, though she wasn't all that experienced, either, but she'd never felt like this just dancing. His hips seemed to fit against hers perfectly, and his breath in her ear made her want to purr. "And maybe I do like to watch. Although I wouldn't call myself a voyeur. There are too many things I like better than watching. If you couldn't tell, I prefer action to standing around watching on the sidelines." As she spoke, she let her fingers trail over his muscular back, his shoulders tensing as they danced. She couldn't get enough of touching him, of being held by him. It was odd. And yet, it wasn't. Just like everything else about being around him.
"Hmmm... if you don't like watching that much, perhaps you're on the opposite side of the coin and you prefer to be watched," he murmured, inhaling her scent deeply. She smelled like sun and spice and oddly, gold. If gold had a scent, she'd be it. Of their own accord, his hands slid down her back to rest on her ass. He knew that she liked what he was doing but he didn't want to presume too much and get slapped. Well, not at first anyway. "I can see you being the exhibitionist type, letting the world see your victory whether on the field or in the bed. You want the world to know your conquest." He nipped her ear as he lifted his head and grinned down at her. "I bet you wish it was you up on that stage, not the guy."
She laughed softly at that, arching an eyebrow. "Hmm... no. I don't think so. I have no desire to be a stripper. If I wanted to do that, well, then that's what I'd be doing. I'm quite content playing football. Although if you're really good, maybe I'll put on a private show later just for you." As she said it, she rolled her hips against his, then turned in his arms to press her arse against the bulge she felt growing in his jeans. Apparently, the stripper on stage wasn't the only one turned on tonight. His hands had moved to her belly when she'd turned, and she placed her hands over his, slipping them under the hem of her tank and up her body to cup her breasts under the slip of silk. She wasn't wearing a bra. "Or maybe I want to put on a show here after all, and let everyone here, man and woman, be jealous that you're here with me," she purred after laying her head on his shoulder and looking up at him, her throat bared.
He took advantage of her exposed throat and gave it a nip and a few kisses. Her breasts just filled his hands (no bra... if he'd known that she wasn't going to wear a bra earlier, he would have been useless during his shift at work) and were warm and firm and her nipples were hard and tight against his palms. Pulling away just a little, he bent over her shoulder, lifting her breast to his lips, wrapping them around one of those tight nubs and giving it a little bite. "I'd be up - no pun intended - to putting on our own show although I think the divas on stage would take umbrage to our fun and taking attention away from them." Dropping her silk cami back over her beasts with a reluctant sigh, he vowed to save those for another time (which was hopefully only a couple of hours from then).
So. She wasn't misreading this. He did seem to want her as badly as she was coming to want him. Even though he'd covered her breasts, he hadn't let go of them, his fingers still casually caressing them, still playing with her nipples in a way that made her moan softly with pleasure, her slit growing wet with desire. One of the other patrons either heard her or noticed the music, because he grinned over at her then, mouthing the words 'lucky girl'. At least, she thought that's what he'd mouthed. It could have been something else. Hell, it could have been something Greek. But she was going to take it as lucky girl. She certainly felt lucky. While his hands were making her melt with need, she stretched her arms back over her head, behind his neck, and spread her fingers over the back of his head as she ground her arse into his cock again for good measure, all in time with the music.
Jackson missed the exchange completely, so focused was he on Ginny's neck and the pleasing weight of her breasts in his hands. He'd only had hints of the shape of those lovely breasts under her shirt but, if he was hoping correctly, he'd be able to see her breasts in a couple of hours if not sooner. His mouth watered at the thought.
In time to the beat, he ground the hard ridge of his cock against the softness of her ass bouncing so enticingly against his hips. "Keep this up and we'll be giving everyone in the club something to watch," he warned - or promised - in a growl in her ear. "But if that's what you want, by all means, keep doing what you're doing." His hands slid down her sides and hips to run back up the insides of her thighs. He was very glad she'd worn a skirt instead of shorts. As his fingers crept to the tops of her thighs to run over her hot wet slit, he was very very glad.
Feeling his fingers brush over her slit had her knees shaking again, and her hips thrust, almost on their own, against those questing digits. She felt them slip, almost accidentally, into her knickers, the arousal-soaked lace of her thong cutting into her hip slightly as his hand pulled the elastic tighter. Her jerking hips sent his fingers deeper, making her moans come louder and more desperate as she ground harder, rolling her hips to feel both his fingers in her slit and his cock at her arse. This wasn't what she'd intended, but then this sort of thing rarely was. She was past caring, obeying her body's demands mindlessly.
She didn't answer his threat with words, but instead acted. Deciding to return the favor, her hands left his head to drop to her sides, only to reach between them a moment later and struggle to unfastened his jeans. And it was a struggle, since her arms were now twisted around behind her back. She managed though, winning the battle of the bulge... in his pants... and freeing his cock, unsurprised to find him going commando under the jeans.
She could almost hear her mother in her mind, sadly telling her that she was letting herself be played for a fool, that there was no condom here to protect her from the rampages of things promiscuious sex brought, that she hardly knew him, that this wasn't safe. But that didn't stop her, she didn't care. With the calous beliefs of invulnerability of the young, she thought it worth whatever risk to fulfill the need burning in her sex.
Jackson groaned softly and buried his face in her neck, thrusting up into her hand even if her grip was awkward. This... would not do. Reluctantly sliding his hands out from under her skirt, he turned her and, still in the beat of the music, slid her leg up his thigh as one of his hands reached beneath her skirt again and ripped her flimsy thong in half. She was soaking which surprised him. He wasn't sure why that surprised him, but it did and it pleased him beyond words. It certainly fed his ego.
Without pausing, he hiked her leg up onto his hip and kissed her deeply. She tasted like she smelled, like musk and English flowers and something exotic and otherworldly. She tasted like no other woman he'd ever kissed before. Sliding his cock between her lips, he sought and found her entrance, sinking into her with a muffled groan of pure absolute bliss. At that point, the club completely died away and it was just him and Ginny. It was as if the entire world had ceased to exist or had been boiled away to its most fundamental aspects which consisted of just the two of them.
Now, Ginny was no virgin. She'd had a few boyfriends while she was at school, and three of them had become lovers. But it hadn't been like this. At all. Maybe it was a lack of expereince on their parts, but she didn't think so. She'd come, she'd enjoyed it, but not like this. Was it the same something that had been drawing her to him since they met? She thought it almost had to be. Or rather, she would think that, were she capable of thinking at all!
Moaning, she tightened her leg around him, doing her best to meet his thrusts and knowing, deep down, exactly how to move to please him best. She felt confident in a way she hadn't with her other lovers. Sure that she knew what to do, even in this awkward position in this public place.
God, she was so tight! Those words repeated over in his head like a benediction until the words died away and he was merely in the moment and feeling her all over him. Not just in his cock but everywhere else she could be. It was an odd sensation, but not unpleasant. He didn't think he'd be able to keep up this pace he'd set with most of Ginny's weight in his arms but he felt exhilerated by being with her and that gave him the added stamina and strength.
Angling his hips, he sought that secret spot deep inside her. In the back of his mind not consumed with Ginny, he wondered if she'd ever had a really good orgasm before. She was only nineteen and probably had only had boyfriends her age and boys that age weren't good lovers at all. He was going to make sure that she never forgot him, even if they never saw each other after tonight (which was unlikely given their... similarities, but just in case). She was doing everything she could to drive him wild, touching all his buttons without even knowing it and if she could do that to him, then he wanted to make sure that she knew her efforts were well received and she should be rewarded for it.... If he could last long that is because while she was pushing his buttons it was driving him toward the edge. Already his balls were tightening and his thrusts were becoming that much more desperate.
Ginny was feeling a bit desperate herself, her body climbing higher and higher up to the pinnacle of pleasure that was just out of reach. And then, like a gift from heaven, he found that spot she'd heard about but never had a lover find and her world came crashing down around her in the most amazingly wonderful way, an orgasm more intense than anything she'd ever felt making her whole body shake. "God!" she groaned, rolling her hips in a desperate attempt to prolong the pleasure. "Oh, God, yes!" Her head, which had been resting on his shoulder as they fucked, turned and, not knowing why, she sank her teeth into his shoulder hard enough to bruise, though she didn't break the skin. "Jackson!" she all but screamed, loud enough that some of the others on the dance floor heard her and smirked knowingly.
The violence of her response woke something inside him that had been long dormant. He'd liked rough sex but for whatever reason his partners in the past had been timid compared to this response. Turning his head, he sank his teeth into her shoulder, hard enough to bruise but not to break the skin. She was pulsing and squeezing his cock so deliciously forcing his already close orgasm to break. Growling, he came too, his thrusts turning short and hard as he spilled into her. This felt familiar and new and exciting and wonderful. It was the only way he could explain it, as flowery as it sounded.
His legs were weak and he could no longer hold Ginny so he let her slowly slide from his arms and they stood there in the middle of the mass of bodies bumping around them as they panted the humid air and tried to regain their bearings. Using Ginny as a shield, he zipped up and keeping his arms wrapped around her, they waded through the crowd to find a table. Luckily a group was just leaving when Jackson stepped up and when another couple made a move to it, he snarled at them making the men yelp and skitter away. It was a tad cooler over here and Jackson caught a waitress's eye to order two cold beers. Still, he kept his arm wrapped protectively around the back of Gin's chair as she regained her composure.
She was struggling to come back to the moment. Something... something had clicked, and her whole world felt turned upside down. "So." She took the beer, picking at the label on the cold bottle and only sipping at the beverage. The bar stool was cool against her bare thighs. It was only then she noticed that Jackson had torn away her thong and she was naked under the skirt. She could feel the slipperiness of his release on her thighs, which brought back her suppressed thoughts of her mother and what she'd be saying (read shrieking) right about now. "I, uh, I'm not usually so..." she trailed off, biting her lip, "promiscuous. I... I don't really know what to say now."
"I know. About both. I don't think you're a slut or anything if that's what you're worried about," he said with a small tug of his lips. His hand was rubbing up and down her back, playing with her sweaty hair and generally touching her. Normally he was the type who didn't want to be touched after a hard fuck like that but with her, he couldn't stop. Didn't want to stop. Although he didn't know what to say either. Did she want a relationship? Did he? Would that be a bad idea considering they'd known each other a few hours? But it didn't feel like a few hours. It felt like a few lifetimes.
"Yes. No. I don't know. I mean, bloody hell, I met you what? Eight hours ago? And I just shagged you on the dance floor in a gay club in Athens? Mum would say if it looks like a slag, and it shags like a slag, must be a slag, right?" she asked, burying her face in her hands and shaking her head. "But I don't do that. Ever. Sorry. I'm sure I'm coming off as really mature right about now. But I think I'm just in shock. It's just like... the normal rules don't seem to apply when I'm trying to apply them to you and I just can't stop myself." She looked up then. "This is probably the sort of thing we've been asked to share in that book, yeah? Somehow, I don't think I want to share this, though. I mean... yeah, it's sort of anonymous. But... well, if I ran into you...."
"I know I'm not sharing this in that book. If anyone asks if I've met anyone I'd say yeah, but I wouldn't give away intimate details. Fuck them whoever they are." Tightening his arm around her shoulders, he leaned in and nuzzled her neck, nipping at her ear then placing small soft kisses along her jaw to her lips. "Try not to think, just go with the flow. If you want to go, we can go, but first drink your beer. The cold will make you feel better. And you're not a slag. You haven't ditched me, you aren't sleeping with anyone else tonight and I don't know you very well but I can pretty much guarantee that you won't be doing something like this again tomorrow night yeah? That would be a slag." And he didn't want to think about her doing something like they'd just done with someone else. The mere thought of it had his hackles up and he was ready to defend his territory. Not that she was his to defend but he would anyway.
"I just told you I don't do things like this," she said with a sigh, then finished her beer. "I'm ready to go. I... I think I'm going to catch a cab back to my flat. Do you want to share the ride since we're both in the same district? Or are you going to walk?" She wasn't sure what to think, or do. Was this a one off? It didn't feel like one. But at the same time, all the signs pointed that way. Or was this the beginning of something more? Did they need more time to decide? Or should they just jump in with both feet. And that, of course, assumed he'd want anything with her. He hadn't really given any indication that he did. Maybe that's why she asked that question. She didn't smoke, but right now, she wanted a fag. And was that the sex? Or the stress?
He looked at her for a long moment, withdrawing his arm since it looked like she needed space but... not. "A cab will be fine," he murmured, standing and pushing out his chair. Since she'd insisted on paying tonight, he let her pay for the beer with a couple of Euro notes on the table and followed her through the press of the crowd into the night air. The street was still crowded and hopping when they walked out, but the air was cool and sweet compared to the heavy humid press inside. Taxis trolled up and down the thoroughfare so it was an easy thing to hail one. "The Olympus Motel, Exarchia," he said to the cab driver and then looked over at Gin for her to give her address. "I'll cover my ears if you don't want me to hear where you live." He was half teasing, half not.
She looked at him a long moment, then gave her address to the cabby. "If you don't know where to find me, how will you track me down in case you decide you want to see me again?" she asked quietly. "Well, I suppose you could come to the field. Still, if you show up there too much, people will talk." People meaning the other players. Actually, she had a feeling her teammates were already going to give her hell for disappearing after the game. Not that she had it in her to care at the moment. She had bigger concerns.
"Good point," he murmured, settling in the corner of the back seat as the cab inched its way out of the bumper to bumper traffic. He did want to see her again, that much he knew. Did he want a relationship with her? That, he didn't know. He hardly knew her after all. Sort of. It was all so confusing. It was actually a good thing they were calling the night early so he could go back to his room and think because his thoughts were so jumbled and confused right now. Probably not as bad as hers though. He wanted to ask her out again, but he thought that she wanted to be alone with her thoughts so he left her alone even if he couldn't help but lay his arm along the back of the seat and played with her hair very lightly and gently.
When he didn't say that he did, in fact, want to see her again, she felt a little like she'd been hit in the gut by a surprise football. She could now hear her mother in her head telling her she'd told her so. Both literally (after all, she had heard her mother telling her not to be an idiot as she was preparing to fuck him on the dance floor, oh god) and figuratively, since her mother loved to tell her she'd told her so. Why would he want to see a slag again? Unless he was all randy one night and wanted a quick fuck. Which at the moment she had a feeling she'd provide, all too willingly, only to feel sucker-punched worse when he didn't want her after that until the next time. Oh, she'd set herself up for a world of hurt this time. It was all she could to to keep from shaking as she had earlier when he'd said... whatever it was that had made her all but pass out.
On second thought, maybe it would be best to get as much distance from him and his strange effect on her as possible!
His motel was closer than her apartment so it seemed like no time that the cabby pulled up to the motel and sat there idling. Jackson didn't want to leave, but reluctantly, he slid out of the backseat and shut the door but didn't step away from the car. Instead, he leaned his arms on the open window and leaned in. "I close tomorrow night. D'you want to go out the night after?" he asked thinking fuck it all. She could just as easily say no and he didn't want to think how he'd feel with that, but he'd... live... somehow. But he had to at least ask.
She didn't answer for a moment, then, slowly nodded. "Yeah. I do. A lot," she said simply, her lips turning up in a huge smile at his offer. "I... I didn't want to push but... yeah. I really..." she blushed looking away. "I'm going home now, before I sound clingy or immature. Good night, Jackson," she said, then stretched up to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Dream of me," she whispered as she pulled away, then nodded to the cabby to go on to her flat.
He kissed her back and stood away from the curb so the car could leave. "I think I already do," he murmured. Confused once again and sighing with aggravation at the now familiar but hated feeling, he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets and retreated into his room. He had no idea what was going to happen, but he was used to that from his travels. Still, the biggest, dopiest grin he'd probably ever had split his face as he keyed into his room and got ready for bed.