Sad_Girl
Blue Crack Supplier
*Disclaimer: ~Fiction: Pronunciation: 'fik-sh&n Function: noun 1 a : something invented by the imagination or feigned; specifically : an invented story
The Promises we make pt 8.5
“Since you got to eat dinner where you wanted to, Pauley, that means I get to listen to my music on the drive home.” Simone told her tired son, who groaned melodramatically.
“But I wanted to hear the elevator song!” he complained.
“Elevator song?” Larry asked, quirking an eyebrow at Simone, who blushed slightly.
“Yeah, he means elevation.” She replied, and Larry laughed out loud.
“I thought you said you weren’t a fan?” He teased, rounding the drivers side of the car.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t check you out.” She said, and he smirked at her playfully, making her blush harder. “I mean your music. Check your music out.” She corrected herself, trying not to look at him.
“Of course, what else would you have meant?” He asked, feigning innocence to see her stumble over her own words some more. Instead, she rested her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side and changed the subject.
“What are you doing? Who told you you could drive my car?” She asked him.
“You’re tired. Besides, I thought it would be nice to stay in our own lane on the trip home.” He replied with a devilish smile.
“Cheeky bastard.” She shot at him, unable to keep from grinning as she said it, and he chuckled, his silvery blue eyes narrowing as he laughed at her faked British accent, covering his smile with one hand. She helped Pauley into the backseat and buckled him in, and a very tired and happy Missy followed him eagerly, her tail thumping against the seat.
“Keys?” Larry said, holding out one of his large hands with long, slender fingers, half of which were decorated with rings.
“My mother told me to never trust a man who wore a pinky ring.” She told him as she feigned great reluctance but handed the keys over to him. She slid the CD with Elevation on it into the CD player and before the song was even over, Pauley was sound asleep in the back seat. She replaced the CD with the one she had wanted to listen to, and the smooth big band style music of Frank Sinatra drifted out of the speakers.
“What’s this shite?” Larry teased, and Simone reacted with an indignant huff.
“This is real music.” She told him. “You think Elvis and James Dean invented cool? No way, the origins of cool lay squarely on the shoulders of Frankie, the rest of the Rat pack and actors such as Mr. Humphrey Bogart.” She informed him. “Those men had style and class enough to spare.”
“Sounds like you were born two generations too late.” He told her as he steered the car along the coast, the sun disappearing on the opposite horizon and casting strange, dancing shadows across the ocean.
She smiled and shrugged in reply, her eyes focused on the ocean outside the window.
“But I still don’t know about the music.” He told her. “Listen to the drum part here. I could play this if I was pissed as a fart and had both arms tied behind my back.” Simone snorted in laughter at this unexpected comment, letting her head fall forward and her eyes shut as she laughed hard.
“Ok, so maybe some parts of it aren’t so sophisticated. Still, it’s the overall outcome that really counts. The way a song leaves you feeling.” She replied. Larry had to agree; to simplify the essence of music down to one thing, it really was all about what emotions which it elicited. He steered the car off the main road, taking them down a dead end road which led to a bluff overlooking the ocean.
“Where are you going?” She asked as she realized they were no longer pointed toward Dublin.
“Just stopping briefly. There’s something I think you’d like to see.” He told her.
“Larry, I told you, I’m really not interested in seeing you naked.” She teased, earning a crooked grin.
“Yeah, you said that.” He agreed playfully as if he didn’t believe her. He parked the car at the end of the road and climbed out into the fading light. Simone glanced back at Pauley to see that he was resting comfortably and decided not to wake him. She grabbed her camera and got out of the car, stepping out to be bathed in the golden haze of sunset.
The bluff was covered in thick, emerald green grass spreading out like a blanket, dotted with stones here and there. A few feet from the edge of the cliff, the ground became uneven and rocky. Larry stood on one of the rocks which jutted up from the ground there, waving Simone over to join him.
“Not a chance.” She told him, shaking her head emphatically.
“C’mon, you’ve got to see this view!” He insisted, and she continued to shake her head.
“You’re nuts if you think I’m getting that close to the edge.” She informed him as he hopped down from his perch on the boulder and approached her predatorily. She took a step back, ready to run, but he was just too quick, grabbing her around the waist again and carrying her, kicking and screaming toward the ledge. When she realized she wasn’t going to get loose of his grip in time to run away, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight, closing her eyes and burying her face against his chest.
“You’re really scared?” he asked, slowing to a stop and looking down into her curls with the copper highlights. She nodded, her face rubbing against his shirt. He chuckled and rubbed her back, his big hand trailing warmth as it moved up and down across her back.
“I’m not going to let you get hurt, you silly gel.” He assured her.
“I don’t like heights.” She told him, refusing to move, her lips brushing against the soft cotton of his shirt, her breath warm and moist against his chest.
“Open your eyes and take a look.” He urged her, but she shook her head, keeping her eyes tightly clenched shut. His body shook with laughter, and it was almost infuriating enough for her to actually open her eyes long enough to glower at him. “I’m not goin’ anywhere until you open your eyes and look at this magnificent view I found for you.” He told her.
She waited for a moment, completely still and silent, trying to decide if he were seriously stubborn enough to try and wait her out. As she considered her situation, she became aware of the warmth of his body seeping into hers, the firmness of his arms and chest, and the pleasant masculine smell of his skin. Soap, cologne, sea air and sweat, just a little; all mixed in to create a feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her believe in the theory of human pheromones.
Finally, she tilted her head back slightly, just enough to peek up at him with one eye. He was peering down at her with his lips pressed tight into a smirk. She wrinkled her nose at him but held fast. She was genuinely terrified of heights.
“You’re an evil fucker, you know that?” She mumbled, making him throw his head back in laughter. She squeezed even tighter, uncertain just how close they were to the edge.
“Just take a look and we can go.” He told her, still laughing. “Look, I won’t even let go of you, just turn around.” He told her, loosening his grip slightly. Realizing he was going to be insistent about this, she inched slowly to face the cliff, his arms still wrapped around her waist, until his hands rested, fingers splayed out, over her stomach.
It was such an intimate position, she nearly forgot that she was four feet from the edge of a 500 or more foot cliff. Not quite, but almost. The view really was breathtaking. The sea was a deep turquoise in the evening light, the waves picking up as a storm threatened from the east. She felt his breath, hot against her ear as he held her close, leaning in to whisper
“Are you going to take the bloody picture, or are we going to stand here until it’s completely dark?” He asked, and she realized with a start that she was still clutching her camera in one hand. She raised the camera and adjusted the lens, but had no idea just what she snapped a picture of, between the terror she felt being near the drop off and the considerably more pleasant feeling of being held fast by this incredibly sexy man.
“Can we go now?” She asked, her voice not nearly as strong as she wished it were. She didn’t like being vulnerable or afraid; she hated showing weakness. She looked up at him, her cheek resting against his chest. He looked down at her with that crooked smile, his eyes taking on a softer look than she had seen before. At least, in those particular eyes. She recognized the look; had seen it in a man’s eyes before. Her heart instinctively did cartwheels, even though her better sense told her not to be happy.
This was not a good idea. He was a rock star, for goodness sake! For her that was fine, she was a big girl and could take it like one when he left. She couldn’t stand the thought of Pauley seeing her fall in love with a man, falling in love with a him as well, and then losing him.
His lips were less than an inch from hers, she could feel his shallow, even breathing against her skin and the hair on her arms stood up in nervous anticipation. She was all but overcome with the desire to know what it would feel like, to kiss those incredibly full, sexy lips. To feel them against her skin; his tongue and teeth against the flesh of her neck.
It had been ages since she’d felt such an attraction to a man; if ever. It was actually hard to draw enough breath to speak, though somehow she managed.
“I don’t want Pauley to wake up and stumble out here. We’d better get back to the car.” She told him. He jolted slightly, surprised at her words. He stared at her in shock for a moment more before drawing back, putting more space between them.
“Right.” He agreed, stepping back and staring toward the car, keeping an arm wrapped around her until she was comfortably far from the cliff’s edge, when she broke away from him and hurried back to the car. He ran one hand through his hair in frustration as the other hand dug the car keys from his pocket. He had been so certain she wanted to kiss him, out there. Had he really misread her body language so completely?
The Promises we make pt 8.5
“Since you got to eat dinner where you wanted to, Pauley, that means I get to listen to my music on the drive home.” Simone told her tired son, who groaned melodramatically.
“But I wanted to hear the elevator song!” he complained.
“Elevator song?” Larry asked, quirking an eyebrow at Simone, who blushed slightly.
“Yeah, he means elevation.” She replied, and Larry laughed out loud.
“I thought you said you weren’t a fan?” He teased, rounding the drivers side of the car.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t check you out.” She said, and he smirked at her playfully, making her blush harder. “I mean your music. Check your music out.” She corrected herself, trying not to look at him.
“Of course, what else would you have meant?” He asked, feigning innocence to see her stumble over her own words some more. Instead, she rested her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side and changed the subject.
“What are you doing? Who told you you could drive my car?” She asked him.
“You’re tired. Besides, I thought it would be nice to stay in our own lane on the trip home.” He replied with a devilish smile.
“Cheeky bastard.” She shot at him, unable to keep from grinning as she said it, and he chuckled, his silvery blue eyes narrowing as he laughed at her faked British accent, covering his smile with one hand. She helped Pauley into the backseat and buckled him in, and a very tired and happy Missy followed him eagerly, her tail thumping against the seat.
“Keys?” Larry said, holding out one of his large hands with long, slender fingers, half of which were decorated with rings.
“My mother told me to never trust a man who wore a pinky ring.” She told him as she feigned great reluctance but handed the keys over to him. She slid the CD with Elevation on it into the CD player and before the song was even over, Pauley was sound asleep in the back seat. She replaced the CD with the one she had wanted to listen to, and the smooth big band style music of Frank Sinatra drifted out of the speakers.
“What’s this shite?” Larry teased, and Simone reacted with an indignant huff.
“This is real music.” She told him. “You think Elvis and James Dean invented cool? No way, the origins of cool lay squarely on the shoulders of Frankie, the rest of the Rat pack and actors such as Mr. Humphrey Bogart.” She informed him. “Those men had style and class enough to spare.”
“Sounds like you were born two generations too late.” He told her as he steered the car along the coast, the sun disappearing on the opposite horizon and casting strange, dancing shadows across the ocean.
She smiled and shrugged in reply, her eyes focused on the ocean outside the window.
“But I still don’t know about the music.” He told her. “Listen to the drum part here. I could play this if I was pissed as a fart and had both arms tied behind my back.” Simone snorted in laughter at this unexpected comment, letting her head fall forward and her eyes shut as she laughed hard.
“Ok, so maybe some parts of it aren’t so sophisticated. Still, it’s the overall outcome that really counts. The way a song leaves you feeling.” She replied. Larry had to agree; to simplify the essence of music down to one thing, it really was all about what emotions which it elicited. He steered the car off the main road, taking them down a dead end road which led to a bluff overlooking the ocean.
“Where are you going?” She asked as she realized they were no longer pointed toward Dublin.
“Just stopping briefly. There’s something I think you’d like to see.” He told her.
“Larry, I told you, I’m really not interested in seeing you naked.” She teased, earning a crooked grin.
“Yeah, you said that.” He agreed playfully as if he didn’t believe her. He parked the car at the end of the road and climbed out into the fading light. Simone glanced back at Pauley to see that he was resting comfortably and decided not to wake him. She grabbed her camera and got out of the car, stepping out to be bathed in the golden haze of sunset.
The bluff was covered in thick, emerald green grass spreading out like a blanket, dotted with stones here and there. A few feet from the edge of the cliff, the ground became uneven and rocky. Larry stood on one of the rocks which jutted up from the ground there, waving Simone over to join him.
“Not a chance.” She told him, shaking her head emphatically.
“C’mon, you’ve got to see this view!” He insisted, and she continued to shake her head.
“You’re nuts if you think I’m getting that close to the edge.” She informed him as he hopped down from his perch on the boulder and approached her predatorily. She took a step back, ready to run, but he was just too quick, grabbing her around the waist again and carrying her, kicking and screaming toward the ledge. When she realized she wasn’t going to get loose of his grip in time to run away, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight, closing her eyes and burying her face against his chest.
“You’re really scared?” he asked, slowing to a stop and looking down into her curls with the copper highlights. She nodded, her face rubbing against his shirt. He chuckled and rubbed her back, his big hand trailing warmth as it moved up and down across her back.
“I’m not going to let you get hurt, you silly gel.” He assured her.
“I don’t like heights.” She told him, refusing to move, her lips brushing against the soft cotton of his shirt, her breath warm and moist against his chest.
“Open your eyes and take a look.” He urged her, but she shook her head, keeping her eyes tightly clenched shut. His body shook with laughter, and it was almost infuriating enough for her to actually open her eyes long enough to glower at him. “I’m not goin’ anywhere until you open your eyes and look at this magnificent view I found for you.” He told her.
She waited for a moment, completely still and silent, trying to decide if he were seriously stubborn enough to try and wait her out. As she considered her situation, she became aware of the warmth of his body seeping into hers, the firmness of his arms and chest, and the pleasant masculine smell of his skin. Soap, cologne, sea air and sweat, just a little; all mixed in to create a feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her believe in the theory of human pheromones.
Finally, she tilted her head back slightly, just enough to peek up at him with one eye. He was peering down at her with his lips pressed tight into a smirk. She wrinkled her nose at him but held fast. She was genuinely terrified of heights.
“You’re an evil fucker, you know that?” She mumbled, making him throw his head back in laughter. She squeezed even tighter, uncertain just how close they were to the edge.
“Just take a look and we can go.” He told her, still laughing. “Look, I won’t even let go of you, just turn around.” He told her, loosening his grip slightly. Realizing he was going to be insistent about this, she inched slowly to face the cliff, his arms still wrapped around her waist, until his hands rested, fingers splayed out, over her stomach.
It was such an intimate position, she nearly forgot that she was four feet from the edge of a 500 or more foot cliff. Not quite, but almost. The view really was breathtaking. The sea was a deep turquoise in the evening light, the waves picking up as a storm threatened from the east. She felt his breath, hot against her ear as he held her close, leaning in to whisper
“Are you going to take the bloody picture, or are we going to stand here until it’s completely dark?” He asked, and she realized with a start that she was still clutching her camera in one hand. She raised the camera and adjusted the lens, but had no idea just what she snapped a picture of, between the terror she felt being near the drop off and the considerably more pleasant feeling of being held fast by this incredibly sexy man.
“Can we go now?” She asked, her voice not nearly as strong as she wished it were. She didn’t like being vulnerable or afraid; she hated showing weakness. She looked up at him, her cheek resting against his chest. He looked down at her with that crooked smile, his eyes taking on a softer look than she had seen before. At least, in those particular eyes. She recognized the look; had seen it in a man’s eyes before. Her heart instinctively did cartwheels, even though her better sense told her not to be happy.
This was not a good idea. He was a rock star, for goodness sake! For her that was fine, she was a big girl and could take it like one when he left. She couldn’t stand the thought of Pauley seeing her fall in love with a man, falling in love with a him as well, and then losing him.
His lips were less than an inch from hers, she could feel his shallow, even breathing against her skin and the hair on her arms stood up in nervous anticipation. She was all but overcome with the desire to know what it would feel like, to kiss those incredibly full, sexy lips. To feel them against her skin; his tongue and teeth against the flesh of her neck.
It had been ages since she’d felt such an attraction to a man; if ever. It was actually hard to draw enough breath to speak, though somehow she managed.
“I don’t want Pauley to wake up and stumble out here. We’d better get back to the car.” She told him. He jolted slightly, surprised at her words. He stared at her in shock for a moment more before drawing back, putting more space between them.
“Right.” He agreed, stepping back and staring toward the car, keeping an arm wrapped around her until she was comfortably far from the cliff’s edge, when she broke away from him and hurried back to the car. He ran one hand through his hair in frustration as the other hand dug the car keys from his pocket. He had been so certain she wanted to kiss him, out there. Had he really misread her body language so completely?
