Joe Hardy hates this plan (ihateyourplan) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2018-02-02 10:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, isabela, joe hardy |
Who: Joe and Bela
What: A morning after
When: Backdated to late November
Where: Bela's fancy yacht
Rating/Warnings Teen for somewhat adult situations
Status: Complete!
It was a sunny morning in California, a fact that barely made itself known to the darkness in Isabela’s main cabin. The shutters had been pulled down over the windows days ago and were hardly ever raised, but chinks of light had managed to spill through the cracks. One of them managed to hit her right in the eyeballs, and it was thanks to that lovely little drop of eyeball killing sunlight that Bela found herself awake well before noon.
It might have been intolerable, but she felt amazing and restored and warm, and when she rolled over and noticed Joe in her bed, she remembered why that was. The night before had been amazing. Dragging Joe aboard the yacht and through the middle decks, clothing tossed to the side as they went. Most of it was probably spread all over the common room, and that thought made Isabela smirk as she yawned, stretched, and rolled over to nibble on Joe’s shoulder.
Usually Joe was awake before the sun was even up. He’d always been that way, even as a teenager. When most of his friends could barely drag themselves out of bed to get to class, Joe had already run two miles on the track. These days he didn’t necessarily have to run every morning, but he was still usually the first person awake. Not today. Oh no. Bela had given Joe a workout unlike any he’d ever gotten before. And it had been fun. It had been a long time since Joe had left a literal trail of clothing all over the place in a rush to simply be rid of the barrier they created. He wouldn’t have at all been surprised to find his pants, or even his boxers in some incredibly random place.
Warm and dark, Joe was very comfortable drifting along in a light easy snooze, enjoying not having to think of anything for a change. Not work. Not the murder of a John Doe. Nothing but the feel of Bela’s luxurious bed, and Bela herself stretched out next to him, enjoying the peace every bit as much as he was.
Bela nibbling along his shoulder drew Joe further from dozing and into the here and now. A light chuckle rumbled in his chest and he rolled towards her. A contented stretch and sigh. “Mornin’,” he murmured, smoothing a few stray strands of Bela’s hair from her face.
"Morning to you, too," She purred. The mornings like this that weren't awkward or strangely filled with obligation were a godsend to her. And Joe all naked in her bed was, too. She spent a few seconds just admiring the sight of him, especially the way the little wedges of sun lit up his chest. She had no idea how early - or late - it was, and she almost didn't want to check the clock and find out. Why did the sun always seem to last so much longer on the western side of the world?
Before the moment could get too serious, or strange, she lifted her hand up and ruffled his already mussed up hair.
"You look extremely pleased with yourself this morning. I can't imagine why that is."
“Oh, I’m very pleased with myself,” Joe smirked back with a laugh. “That was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.” He didn’t care for awkward morning-after encounters either and he’d had his fair share. He’d also had his fair share of being figuratively tossed aside once the sun came up. He didn’t care that he was used as a means to an end and thought of as nothing more. But being chased out into the harsh glare of morning with barely a thank-you or a goodbye wasn’t exactly a pleasant way to start the day.
On the other hand, lounging in bed on a lush yacht with a hot naked woman after a night of mind blowing sex? Now that was an incredible way to start the day. He could have continued to lounge there with Bela all day too if it wasn’t for the fact that his belly was telling him that all the exercise he’d had the night before had left it very empty. “What do you think?” He asked. He propped his elbow against the pillows and rested his head against the back of his hand. “Breakfast? I think you promised me a tour, too.”
There were people that Bela would have unceremoniously tossed off of her yacht. Usually those were the type that didn't even end up there and instead got tossed out of a cheap motel room. She'd even had her moments of sneaking out the second she woke up, but Joe wasn't the type of person to do that with. Good friends were the ones you could fuck and still respect in the morning.
And his stomach wasn't the only one that was growling. Bela cracked a yawn and stretched again, then booped him on the nose. "Right, the larder's all stocked up for cooking things, but I have to warn you that if I'm left to it all you're getting's a cup of coffee and some toast. I like you far too much to try and feed you indian food at... whatever hour of the morning this is. Or burn you eggs. Tours I can manage."
“Awww,” Joe teased. “You’re so sweet.” Not that Joe didn’t like Indian cuisine. When it came to food the last thing Joe was was picky. But having it first thing in the morning? Probably not the best of ideas, especially if he ever wanted to be invited back.
Joe sat up and stretched his arms over his head. He looked back over his shoulder at Bela. He took a brief moment to appreciate the form of her body and the way the sheet draped and brought her curves to attention. The smile on his face grew. Oh, yes. A fantastic way to start the day. Hands down. “If you direct me to the galley, I can make us breakfast. Then you can take me on a tour?”
"I absolutely can." Isabela replied. She'd winked at him as he glanced at her, still lounging for a few more moments in the bed before she got up and sprung into action. Not even bothering to throw much on but a silky bathrobe, she motioned to him with a hand. "Let me start by showing you my gigantic shower, which you're more than welcome to use before you go, so long as you don't mind smelling like my shampoo."
She motioned toward the door that lead to the fancy 'master suite', then bounded inside to give her hair a quick brushing. Amazing sex always had the complicated side business of the worst matted bed hair imaginable. "It's got a fancy sprayer that is fantastic for shower sex. Is that one you've done? I've got all kinds of positions I just read about that I'd like to try sometime."
Joe stretched again and got out of bed himself. Unlike Bela, he didn’t have a robe or anything to put on. Fortunately, a brief moment of hunting around the room, he at least found his boxers. His pants, for the moment, were nowhere to be seen. Nor was his shirt. So for the time being his boxers alone were going to have to do. He slipped them on before joining Bela. Even her bathroom was lush. If the price he had to pay for taking a shower in such luxury was smelling like Bela’s shampoo, then that was a price Joe was willing to pay. Besides, who wouldn’t want to shower with a fancy sprayer head?
“I’ve had a good time in a shower,” he answered her with a grin. “Not with any kind of fancy sprayers though.” His grin turned devilish, “if you want to try out those positions, perfect them, I’d be happy to help.”
"Oh-ho, you have, have you?" Bela's chuckle was deep and rumbly, and she glanced back around the bedroom as she realised that Joe was hunting around for his clothing. His pants and shirt must have been left behind somewhere else on her yacht, and she liked the fact that she had him at a disadvantage. She also liked the fact that he was so willing to help her out.
"You're a helper, aren't you, Joe? Look at you, so happy to do this charitable act for me and help me brush up on my shower sex. We'll have to get started on that sooner rather than later." Her brow arched up slightly and she smirked as she added, "But first perhaps we should extend our tour out to the entertainment room so that you can find the rest of your clothes. Not that I mind you cooking breakfast in that shape, but I think it isn't quite safe. They always say not to cook bacon naked."
Eventually, Joe was going to have to locate his pants and shirt, and his socks and shoes as well. Cooking in skivvies may have been enticing, but until he’d gotten the chance to familiarize himself with Bela’s galley, it was probably best not to tempt fate by doing so. For now, though, he was alright standing there in Bela’s bedroom in only his underwear. There was no real need for modesty now. Besides, he rather liked the way she looked him over.
“I’m a giver,” Joe grinned at her devilishly. “Anything I can do to help. Anytime. But for now, yeah, we may as well get some of that promised tour taken care of. Not that you haven’t seen all of me at this point, it’s never a good idea to cook in the nude. So if you want breakfast, I’m going to at least need to find wherever you hid my pants.”
"Maybe they're hiding wherever it is my bra ended up. Usually I find it dangling off the television set." Isabela joked, while escorting him out of the bedroom. Cool tiled floor hit their feet and spiral staircase led up to the deck. Instead of heading that way or down the obvious hallway, she headed through an archway and into an extremely posh entertainment room. White leather couches contrasted with colorful throw pillows that could still be made out in the sparse light.
She flicked on all the lights and started glancing around for their clothing. "So this is the entertainment room. We've got a bar, is it a bit early to start drinking? Probably. The television there hides in the wall when I've got paying guests, and look! My bra DID end up dangling off it. Also a disco ball. That's very important." And she turned on the mechanism that let it drop out of the ceiling, just so he could see it. "I think that's your pants over on the floor there."
Yup. There were his jeans. Right where Joe had kicked them off after Bela had taken the liberty of undoing them for him. Joe found that he was a little disappointed they weren’t dangling off something the same way Bela’s bra had been found. Finding them hanging from the disco ball would have been hilarious. Oh, well. Next time. And it certainly sounded as though there was going to be a next time.
Joe glanced around the room as he pulled his jeans back on. It was extremely nice and Joe may have even been a little envious. His living room, though it had a flat screen TV, was nothing like Bela’s. It was exactly the place one would expect to have lush fancy or exotic parties that raged well into the wee hours of the morning. Joe could only imagine the kinds of parties, the kinds of fun Isabela’d had here. The kinds of people she’d entertained. It was an inviting picture.
His eyes settled on the bar, a smirk pulling on his mouth. His phone was still somehow in the back pocket of his jeans and he pulled it out to glance at the time. As he suspected, it was fairly late in the morning, but still a little early to drink. However, the different world that was Bela’s yacht, Joe wondered if there was such a thing as too early or too late. Time seemed an completely different entity here.
“Your yacht is amazing,” Joe turned to look back at Bela. He laughed. “You have an ‘entertainment’ room. Who has an entertainment room? You’ve had a lot of parties here?” He asked. “What kinds of parties?”
Maybe it was too early to get a drink, but Isabela knew her way around all the unspoken parts of social culture. When it was 'too early to drink', that just meant it was time for Mimosas. She sauntered over to the bar area after plucking up some more clothing, and pulled out some champagne. "Balls, you have no idea. I mean I worked for it, this yacht. It didn't just land in my lap. Truth is parts of it I'm still paying off. Boat parts expire faster than computer parts do. But!"
She pulled out some champagne glasses and then went digging in a small fridge for orange juice. "All KINDS of parties, that's the answer. Since it's a charter yacht, you get every type of person hiring you. Some you'd never imagine could afford a romp on a thing like this, and some you never imagined would even be interested. You see that couch over there? One time I came down from the bridge to see two women tied together in fancy ropes and knots. Japanese rope tying, you should google it if you're unfamiliar. I've entertained more than a few senators, once prince... a very naughty turkish Playboy... This room's witnessed a thousand sins."
Isabela poured them both a mimosa and handed him his, "Fizzy orange juice, it's the best way to start a day, right?"
Joe listened to Isabela talk about the people and parties she’d had onboard her yacht. It was like she lived in another world. The type one only got to read about in novels or fantasize about while looking through travel magazines. It was the type of world Joe wouldn’t mind visiting, but would probably make him insane if he had to live there permanently. Though from Isabala’s point of view, it must have been different. She did make her living this way. Joe wasn’t foolish enough to think that wasn’t a lot of hard work, being at the beck and call to the world’s fabulously rich and bored.
He couldn’t help but smirk. “Fizzy orange juice, huh?” He raised a brow. Joe wasn’t normally a day drinker. The one and only time he’d started his day with alcohol was immediately after Iola’s death. And the week after her murderer had been acquitted. Bela’s mimosas weren’t the same. It was a happier drink than the whiskey Joe had drank on the mornings he needed to medicate his grief.
“Yeah,” he chuckled as he took one of the glasses. “Thank you. But we’d probably better have breakfast to go along with these, eh?”
"Mimosas, if you'd like to pretend we're fancy. I know I'm not, I just happen to charter out a very fancy yacht. If circumstances were different I'm sure I'd be drinking plain orange juice on the way to something far more boring than you cooking breakfast." Isabela made a mock toasting motion with her glass before grabbing a sip, and then she lead him out of the room and over to the stairs.
"So that's the entertainment room, and off to either side here we've got smaller VIP cabins. Down the stairs here is the galley. It's huge, but I do try and keep it stocked. All those parties I throw." She winked at Joe at the mention of how large the kitchen was, thinking about all of the fun they could have there when, of course, he wasn't preparing food. Over the sink was always a good time.
It was a fancy spiral staircase, far more swanky than was honestly required for stairs, and Bela took the way down quickly, taking the steps in twos. "Try not to trip, kitten, these stairs can be murder."
Bela would probably be disappointed to learn that of all the rooms Joe was looking forward to having a good time with her in, the kitchen was not one of them. His aunt had once traumatized him with the notion when she had been teaching him how to cook. “You don’t screw were you eat, Joseph, and I’ll tell you why…” Joe, only 13 at the time – the age when the concept of your parents and parental figures just knowing about sex was nightmare inducing – had been so utterly mortified that of all the lessons Aunt Gertrude had taught him, that was one he would never forget.
Never fear, though, Bela. Joe knew of plenty of other places where he could make her tremble in ecstasy while screaming his name.
He returned her wink with a charming smile of his own before following her down the set of fancy stairs, being careful and mindful of where he put his feet. He was an agile man, so he was able to keep up with her just fine down to the galley. Despite the room itself being off limits for any future romps, Joe was really looking forward to seeing it and making Bela an excellent breakfast in thanks for the previous night. “What do you feel like eating this morning?” He asked. “Since we’re drinking fancy orange juice, I was thinking maybe something a little fun. I know a recipe for French toast roast with a bananas foster sauce.”
"Good lord, Joe, are you serious?" Bela asked, eyebrows raising in delight. She was completely surprised by the offer, thinking at first that his idea of breakfast was going to be a quick fry up of eggs and bacon. Which would have been fantastic, but something fancy like bananas foster sauce sounded far, far better.
"You know I almost answered that with one of my typical things, like 'besides nibbling on you?', and you've gone and distracted my mind nearly completely away from sex. This had better be the best french toast anyone's ever made me." Bela decided, while walking over to start up some coffee. "I think we've got everything we need in here. Perhaps I can be your little kitchen assistant and chop up some bananas for you."
In her dream world, she was learning that she was rather good with a knife.
Joe feigned a look of surprise. “I didn’t think that was even possible!” He gasped and then laughed. Though sex in the kitchen was strictly off limits, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a little fun. He stepped up next to her and leaned in to nuzzle her neck and nibble a little himself. He smiled against her skin, “I could use an assistant,” he said. “If you want to start with the bananas, I’ll get the bread ready.”