The weather in Seattle has been unpredictable lately. One week it was cool and rainy, the next warm and rainy, and the next week it was cool again. And rainy
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For once this week, she is getting home before dark. Walking outside to find the gorgeous day had put her in a great mood and she decided she would surprise Derek with her early arrival instead of calling to let him know she was on her way home.
She can make out his figure sitting on the edge of the dock as she pulls up to the garage, fishing pole in the air and cooler by his side. This only makes her smile more and she grabs her coat, throwing it over her arm before bounding down over the lawn to join him.
"Hey," she says warmly to his back as she takes the first step onto the dock and walks the length of it to take a seat beside him. Once settled, she leans over to give his a kiss.
"Little fear of that," she says softly, the combination of his warm lips and the cool breeze on her skin making her shiver.
The hitch in his breath only encourages her hand to continue its grazing motion over the denim, alternating the pads of her fingers with strokes of nails. She shifts beneath him slightly, enabling herself to reach better and enjoying being sandwiched between his body and the warm wood of the dock below her.
He has to stop wearing jeans. That's all there is to it.
Her touch is light, teasing, and he knows she means it to be, but it would feel so much better if he were just wearing a softer material.
Or perhaps no pants at all. Either or.
Taking his cue from her, he nudges her thigh so he can press his hand against her, mimicking each stroke of her fingers on his body with matching ones of his own. And then, missing the warmth of her mouth, he leans up to find it again, just as his fingernails scrape over the seam in her pants.
Meredith would probably put up a pretty good argument if he said he was going to stop wearing jeans. She's rather fond of how he looks in them. If lack of sensation is an issue, they can always come off.
Always.
She groans, finding herself pressing greedily into his hand. Wanting more, always wanting more and never afraid to make that known to him.
And if she expects that, she'll give it in return, her hand taking the sort of pace and applying the pressure she wants for herself. Until she decides that this too is not enough and moves to fumble blindly with his fly.
That is, of course, one of his favorite things about her, that every other time (outside of the O.R.) she is undemanding and insecure but like this? She knows exactly what she wants from him and isn't shy about taking it.
It's seriously the greatest turn on for him.
He manages to get her pants undone before she can unfasten his and his fingers slip inside eagerly, the tight material trapping his hand so that every movement presses him hard against her arousal.
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She can make out his figure sitting on the edge of the dock as she pulls up to the garage, fishing pole in the air and cooler by his side. This only makes her smile more and she grabs her coat, throwing it over her arm before bounding down over the lawn to join him.
"Hey," she says warmly to his back as she takes the first step onto the dock and walks the length of it to take a seat beside him. Once settled, she leans over to give his a kiss.
"Catch anything yet?"
Reply
He reaches into the cooler with his free hand and pulls out a beer for her, kissing her back as he hands it to her.
"How was work?"
Reply
"How was your morning? And did you get everything done you needed to this afternoon?"
Reply
"We have rings and plane tickets. I have a tux. And the travel agent has assured me everything will be perfect for our wedding."
He smirks. "I think she likes me."
Reply
The hitch in his breath only encourages her hand to continue its grazing motion over the denim, alternating the pads of her fingers with strokes of nails. She shifts beneath him slightly, enabling herself to reach better and enjoying being sandwiched between his body and the warm wood of the dock below her.
Reply
Her touch is light, teasing, and he knows she means it to be, but it would feel so much better if he were just wearing a softer material.
Or perhaps no pants at all. Either or.
Taking his cue from her, he nudges her thigh so he can press his hand against her, mimicking each stroke of her fingers on his body with matching ones of his own. And then, missing the warmth of her mouth, he leans up to find it again, just as his fingernails scrape over the seam in her pants.
Reply
Always.
She groans, finding herself pressing greedily into his hand. Wanting more, always wanting more and never afraid to make that known to him.
And if she expects that, she'll give it in return, her hand taking the sort of pace and applying the pressure she wants for herself. Until she decides that this too is not enough and moves to fumble blindly with his fly.
Reply
It's seriously the greatest turn on for him.
He manages to get her pants undone before she can unfasten his and his fingers slip inside eagerly, the tight material trapping his hand so that every movement presses him hard against her arousal.
Reply
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