The Butterfly and the Tornado, Part 3/3

Summary: The third and final part of The Butterfly and the Tornado. Thomas and MC (Colbie) and a series of firsts.

Note: A huge thank you to my dear friend L, who listened to me vent when this last part decided not to cooperate, and for sending me pictures of faceclaims that finally kicked my inspiration into gear. 😛

Part 1 (PG-13)   Part 2 (PG-13)

Waiting has never been one of Colbie’s strong suits. There’s a reason her family constantly calls her antsy and impatient and tells her to cut back on the caffeine. It’s only gotten worse as she’s gotten older. At least now she can sit and drink coffee to pass the time. She ignores the fact that coffee just makes her more keyed up.

Colbie cranes her head back, soaking up the warm morning sun, and closes her eyes again. She will not look at her phone. She will not. It hasn’t even been five minutes. She debates getting into the pool, but she wants to drink her coffee more than she wants to move.

So she stays in place, sipping the strong black brew and forcing herself not to check her phone.

When it rings a few minutes later, Colbie snatches it up so fast that it almost immediately slips out of her grasp and clatters back on to the deck chair.

“Damn,” she mutters, grabbing it again. “Way too much coffee, Weller. Way too much.”

Thomas’s name is on her screen. (Finally, her impatient brain screeches.)

“Hello?”

“Good morning,” Thomas greets her. His voice is a little gravelly and rough, like he’s just woken up. Sleep rumpled Thomas Hunt is definitely not an unpleasant thought.

“Good morning,” she replies, sitting upright. “What are you doing?”

“I just woke up. That plane ride was not…”

She doesn’t hear the rest of what he says. Now she’s distracted by thoughts of him in his bed and wishing she was also in his bed. Or that he was in her bed. She isn’t picky. Her couch is also comfortable. Hell, she’ll take any surface at this point.

“Colbie?” Thomas says.

“Huh?”

He sighs. “I asked if six o’clock works for you tonight.”

Oh, right. Their date. Even just the word puts butterflies in her stomach. Still…

“Are you sure we can’t skip going out for dinner? We could order in, not have to deal with people…” Colbie suggests.

It’s not that she doesn’t want to go out on a date with him. She does, but staying in with him also sounds incredibly appealing. In public she’ll have to behave (although thinking about all of the ways she can discreetly tease him is fun). But if they stay in, well… in her penthouse or his house, they’ll be alone, and no one is going to snap photos of her ignoring dinner in favor of straddling him and kissing him senseless.

“Have I mentioned lately how impatient you are?” Thomas asks.

She doesn’t even care that he’s on to her. She just laughs and says, “Well I’m sorry, I prefer to spend my evening with you, not the paparazzi and a bunch of other people.”

“You’ll be able to spend the rest of the evening with just me, if you want,” he says.

Colbie laughs again. “If. That’s not even a real question. Of course I want that. Preferably for the whole rest of the weekend too,” she adds in a suggestive murmur.

She hears him take a carefully controlled deep breath. “I’ll pick you up at six,” he says.

At precisely six o’clock, the front doorman calls up to tell her that Thomas is there. Colbie grabs her clutch and her keys, calls out to Babou to behave, and heads downstairs. Thomas is waiting for her in the lobby. He’s ditched his usual daily wear for a classic suit that he looks impossibly even more handsome in. She’s nervous suddenly when she reaches him. It hits her, all at once, that she’s about to go out on a date with Thomas Hunt. Thomas Hunt. She’s dated, sure, but casually and with hardly any expectations of where it would go next. She’s never been out with someone she’s admired so much and felt so deeply about before.

Thomas’s eyes sweep over her. Colbie swallows hard when they meet hers.

“You look beautiful,” he says sincerely.

He takes her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “Shall we?” he asks.

She nods almost numbly. Thomas opens the car door for her and she smiles faintly. Before he starts the car, he gently cups her cheek in his hand.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

Colbie nods again. “Yes,” she says, her voice a near whisper. “I just…”

She doesn’t know how to put it into words. She’s flirted with him effortlessly before this, kissed him with hardly a second’s pause before this, but this… this is so much more. At least, she hopes it’s more. She wants it to be more.

Sitting in his car, his entire focus on her, it feels like they’re the only two people in the world for this brief moment. She understands, suddenly, why he wants to take her out. He’s not trying to keep her a secret. As much as she knows he values his privacy, he’s certainly not one to try and pretend that he’s not in a relationship (Is that what this is becoming? she wonders. Does that mean he wants this to be more too? Or is she reading too much into it already?).

Thomas interrupts her internal panicking with his thumb tracing along her cheekbone.

“You’re nervous,” he observes, his tone almost gentle.

She tries to shrug nonchalantly but knows she fails. “Maybe a little,” she admits.

Thomas smiles at her. “I wondered when that would set in.”

Colbie frowns. “I know you’re way more famous than I am, but-”

He gently places his thumb on her lips. “That’s not what I meant,” he says. “I meant that this is new. Unknown. That’s always a little nerve-wracking.”

“Oh,” she says slowly, some of her nerves dissipating a little. “That’s-yeah, that’s probably part of it.”

She sighs when he leans in and kisses her.

“And the other part?” he asks.

“It’s… you,” she confesses. “I’ve admired you for a long time. And I know I flirted with you a lot-”

“Including on set,” he says sternly, but his expression is all warmth and a little affection.

Colbie smiles. “Including on set,” she agrees. “But I think part of me didn’t really expect this to happen. And now it is.”

“It is,” he reassures her. There’s so much certainty in his voice that it helps to calm her racing heart.

Thomas kisses her again, his lips lingering on hers when she slips her fingers around the back of his neck.

“Ready?” he asks after a minute.

Colbie nods. The nervousness is still there, though its forceful insistence has diminished some. “Ready.”

Colbie recognizes the restaurant he brings her to by name and reputation. It’s usually booked out months in advance.

“The perks of being famous,” she teases him lightly. “Isn’t it almost impossible to get in here?”

He pulls into the valet. “It’s not impossible,” he comments, stepping out of the car. “It’s just an exceptionally long wait.”

“Did you have these reservations months in advance then?” Colbie asks.

A warm fluttery feeling takes ahold of her when Thomas takes her hand as they walk in.

“No,” he admits. “I know the owner.”

Colbie waits until they’re seated at a table in a quiet corner to tease him about that. “So it’s still the perks of being famous.”

Thomas looks at her from across the table, the soft lighting illuminating his features. “This time,” he relents. “But I assure you, I don’t use that kind of favor often.”

Colbie takes a drink of her wine, savoring its smoothness on her tongue. “I’m worth a special favor then?”

His lips quirk up. “Are you fishing for compliments, Colbie?”

She wants to kiss the tiny smirk off his face so badly, but she’s all too aware of the people who keep turning to glance at them and the few that are trying to sneak in photos. She’s also all too aware of how Hollywood gossip works, and the unfairly nasty headlines that would accompany a photo of them kissing right now. So she remains in her seat and just smiles at him.

“Maybe,” she murmurs.

He takes a sip of his wine and looks at her thoughtfully. “Yes, you’re worth a special favor,” he says. “I haven’t brought anyone here with me in a very long time.”

Now he’s making it really difficult not to kiss him, right here and right now. She settles for inching her chair just close enough to tangle her fingers with his under the table. He runs his thumb over the back of her knuckles and gives her an affectionate smile.

Her nerves slowly disappear with each sip of wine, each bite of the rich, delicious food that’s brought to the table, the ease of the conversation they slip into. Thomas looks at her in surprise when she declines a second glass of wine.

“Oh no,” she says, careful to keep her voice quiet. “I’m stopping at one. I learned my lesson with the scotch.”

His lips part a little. He shakes his head at her in amusement, then glances around to ensure no one is nearby. “I’m not certain I’d have the same willpower to turn you down this time,” he admits.

Now he’s just being unfair. How does he expect her to just… sit here while he says things like that?

“If you keep saying things like that, I’m going to ask for the check,” she says just under her breath.

“We haven’t had dessert,” Thomas says back, then immediately groans when she grins at him broadly.

“I know exactly what you’re thinking, Colbie,” he sighs. “That’s not what I meant.”

“How do you know what I was thinking?” she shoots back. “Maybe I was just thinking that we could take dessert to go.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Was that actually what you were thinking?”

“… no,” she laughs quietly. “But we could.”

She’s a little surprised when he does actually flag down the server to get dessert to go and to get the check.

“I thought you’d put up more of an argument over leaving early,” Colbie comments.

The way he looks at her makes her flush. She swallows hard.

“You’re making it exceedingly difficult to keep resisting,” he says in explanation. His words make her flush even more.

He takes her hand again when they walk out, and it makes her feel undeniably warm and a little giddy. They slide into the cool quiet of his car and he pulls onto the street.

“If we go to your house, will you make me sleep in the guest room again?” Colbie asks.

“Only if you want to,” Thomas replies.

“Definitely not. Not unless you’re going to be in there with me.”

His fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

“Colbie,” he says, a hint of sternness in his voice.

“Yes?”

She can tell that his careful control is slipping when he glances over at her.

“You realize the more you attempt to distract me, the longer it will take us to get there,” Thomas says.

“I’ve worked with you. I know for a fact you’re good at multi-tasking,” she says in a low, suggestive voice.

If he was anyone else, she thinks she’d be surprised at his ability to actually get them to his house in one piece and without stopping. But it’s Thomas Hunt. He simply takes a steadying breath and keeps driving.

“I’m not making love to you for the first time in my car,” he says.

“What about after the first time?” she can’t resist asking as they pull up to a red light.

He turns to look at her, shaking his head. A tiny smile plays over his lips when he leans in and kisses her softly. “We’ll have to see.”

“Tease,” she says under her breath.

“Hardly,” is his response, the word so heavy with promise that she nearly groans.

He opens her door when they get to his house, then shuts it behind her. Colbie can’t resist kissing him before they even get inside.

“Have I mentioned that I love how much of a gentleman you are?” she murmurs against his mouth.

“It appears to be a dying quality,” he comments sardonically.

Thomas locks the front door behind them when they get inside and she leans against it, the wood cool and smooth against her back. She slips out of her heels, leaving her staring at his chest. Thomas tucks her hair behind her ear when she looks up at him.

“Are you still nervous?” he asks.

She turns her cheek into his palm, sighing at his gentle touch.

“Not exactly the word I’d use now,” she replies.

He tilts his head down, his lips just brushing over hers.

“Kiss me,” she whispers.

He obliges immediately, his lips warm and firm against hers. His tongue traces over her lower lip and she opens up to him with a quiet groan, his tongue dancing with hers. Colbie slides her hands up his chest, feeling the softness of his suit jacket, the heat radiating off of him. She pushes the jacket off his shoulders, then lets her hands drift back down to undo the buttons on his shirt. Thomas gently grasps her wrists when she reaches for the fastener on his pants. She starts to make a noise of protest when he tilts her chin up.

“Colbie. I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time,” he explains, his voice low and intimate in the near-darkness of his foyer. “And I don’t do casual flings or hook-ups or whatever word people are using these days.”

“I don’t want this to be casual,” Colbie says immediately, her heart thundering in her chest. God, she’s relieved he feels the same way and that he didn’t stop her for some other reason.

“I want all of this with you,” she continues. “Everything.”

His hands slip around her waist to hold her tightly against him. “You’re certain?”

Her hips twist against his instinctively. She just barely catches his quiet groan at her movements.

“God, yes,” Colbie laughs shakily. She rises on her toes to press her lips against the shell of his ear. “I want to be with you. I want you. If you don’t make love to me right now, I might actually explode.”

Thomas chuckles lowly. “That’s a physical impossibility, but I appreciate the metaphor.”

His lips trail down her neck, his teeth scraping gently over her pulse point and down to her collarbone. She buries her hands in his hair, closing her eyes as the feeling of his mouth on her skin nearly consumes her.

“Thomas,” she pleads, her voice hitching.

“Be patient,” he murmurs in her ear.

“You know I’m not-mmm…” she lets out a noise of pleasure when his hands drift almost lazily up and down her sides, just brushing the sides of her breasts.

“I’m not good at being patient,” she finally gets out, the words rushed together.

He lifts his head back up to kiss her, long and drawn out and making her breathless.

“I’ve noticed your lack of patience on more than one occasion,” Thomas comments.

“Hey-” she starts to protest.

“But we have more than enough time to rush later, if you insist on it,” he reassures her.

His repeated reassurance that this isn’t a one-time thing sends a jolt of warmth through her, though it does nothing for her ability to wait. If anything, it just makes her want him more.

Thomas takes her hand and guides her upstairs. They pause only once, when they come to a landing and she pulls his mouth down to hers. God, she can’t stop kissing him. His kisses are deep and thorough, his tongue and his teeth making her gasp with pleasure. He leans her against the wall, his hands roving over her hips and the small of her back. Colbie tries to figure out the logistics of keeping her lips on his while they walk up the rest of the stairs, but every idea results in one or both of them tripping and crashing to the carpet.

His bedroom is so organized and tidy that it could be in a magazine. His bed is made, the shades drawn. It’s almost exactly what she would have pictured his bedroom to look like. Not that she’ll ever confess to him that she’s imagined his bedroom and his bed and him in it.

Thomas’s fingers hover over the zipper of her dress, easing it down at her murmured encouragement. The material slips down her arms and over her hips to pool on the floor. The way he looks at her is so intense that it almost feels like a physical caress.

“God, Colbie,” he murmurs. “You’re beautiful.”

She sucks in a breath, and then he tilts his head down to kiss her again, so deeply that it leaves her nearly breathless. She’s used to taking control when it comes to anything physical. She knows what she wants, isn’t afraid to ask for it, but what she wants right now, more than anything, is for Thomas to take the lead.

He’s barely touched her and she’s already aching for him. She’s convinced that with one well-placed brush of his hand or his mouth, he could have her screaming his name.

Thomas lifts her onto the edge of his bed, smiling a little when she tugs him down to push his shirt off, leaving him bare-chested. She hums quietly in appreciation. She won’t deny that she’s seen some of (okay, probably almost all of, thanks to Google) his old modeling photos, but it’s far better seeing him in person and being able to touch him. His heart races under her palm.

“Now who’s nervous?” she murmurs.

“That isn’t the word I would use either,” he quips back.

She glances down and unfastens his pants.

“I can see that,” she says when she pushes them down over his hips, shooting him a cheeky grin.

Thomas smirks, then slides out of them, leaving him in nothing but his boxer-briefs. She can feel her underwear dampening even more at the sight of him straining against the soft fabric and so aroused for her.

“God, I’ve thought about this,” she groans quietly. “I had dreams about you.”

“Hopefully I live up to what you’ve imagined,” Thomas says, unhooking her bra with ease.

She shivers a little when he gets it off, both from the coolness in his room and the way he’s looking at her.

“Oh, I think you’ve surpassed everything already,” she says shakily.

“I’ve hardly done anything,” he replies with mild amusement.

She shrugs, feeling herself flush. “But you’re here. You’re real. I don’t have to rely on my imagination anymore.”

His eyes are blazing when he captures her lips again, kissing her hard, then more gently. “No. You don’t.”

Her fingers bury in his hair when he kisses down her chest, his mouth warm against her skin. His tongue laves over one nipple, his thumb gently rolling over the other.

“Mm,” she whimpers, squirming against his bed.

He trails his hand down her stomach, below her belly button, then over the center of her underwear.

“Oh god,” she moans, his fingers gentle but sure as they rub over her.

Her head tilts back, her hands moving from his hair to grasp desperately at his bed to keep herself upright.

“Lay back, Colbie,” Thomas murmurs.

She eases herself down, breathing heavily. He slips her underwear off, then leans over her. His lips find hers, his hands running slowly from her shoulders down to her calves as he kneels before her. It’s like he can’t bear to leave one inch of her untouched. Colbie changes her mind about one touch from him making her come undone when she glances down at him.

God, at this point he could just look at her right and make her come. Especially now, when he’s kissing up her thighs and lifting them over his shoulders and his head is between her legs. His stubble scratches pleasantly over her skin.

She nearly shrieks at the first feel of his mouth on her. Her hips snap up and she bites back sobbing out his name. He glides the flat of his tongue over her and her hands fly back to tangle in his hair, desperately needing to touch as much of him as she can. Incoherent noises escape her lips when he slides his fingers into her, gliding them in and out.

Everything he’s doing feels so incredible that she’s desperate to make this last, to draw it out, but she’s overwhelmed by him. The deft, sure movements of his fingers and his mouth and how much she’s been wanting him are too much, in the best possible way. When he flicks his tongue against her clit, bursts of white flash behind her eyelids and her heartbeat roars in her ears. She thinks she might scream his name. Every one of her muscles tenses, her fingers tightening in his hair.

When she finally drops back against his bed with a noisy exhale, she can barely catch her breath.

“Oh my god,” she nearly whimpers. “I… that was… “

She moans when he kisses her, tasting herself on his tongue. Her arms are shaking when she brings them around his back.

“God. So much better than the dreams,” is all she can think to say.

Thomas looks at her with a mixture of amusement and arousal. “I’m glad I’ve exceeded your expectations.”

“So much,” she mumbles.

He kisses her languidly and she sighs, then groans with arousal when his erection brushes her thigh.

“I want you,” she says. “And if you tell me to keep being patient, I might scream.”

“Again?” he asks. Her skin heats up at the teasing tone in his voice and she glances away.

Thomas tilts her chin back to look at him. “It was incredibly flattering,” he murmurs, helping her scoot back in the bed.

Their fingers tangle together when she sits up to help him push his boxer-briefs off. Colbie takes him in, sinking back against the softness of his pillows. She bites her lip at the sight of him, naked and aroused.

And yours, a little voice in the back of her head adds giddily.

“I meant what I said earlier, Colbie,” Thomas says. “I don’t do casual.”

He’s giving her another out, she realizes. A last chance to change her mind. As if she would possibly let him go. She’s been waiting for him, wanting him.

“And I meant what I said,” she says, reaching for him and pulling him over her. “I want you.”

She wraps her hand around his neck, bringing his lips to hers. “I’ve wanted you since that first meeting about The Last Duchess.”

Thomas groans into their kiss, nipping at her lip. “I should have known from that first meeting that resisting you would be nearly impossible.”

She reaches down between them, running her hand over his hardened length and feeling him suck in a breath.

“I’m glad you stopped resisting,” she murmurs.

“It was a losing battle,” Thomas says, his eyes blazing with desire.

He reaches over to his nightstand, grabbing a condom and rolling it on. He presses into her with deliberate slowness, and she arches into him. Her legs clamp around him, her arms wrapping around his back. Holding him there, just for a moment.

“Oh,” she moans. God, he feels good.

“You feel incredible,” Thomas breathes in her ear.

She burrows her face into his neck as they start to move, kissing his flushed skin, then lifts her head again, their lips meeting in slow kisses that quickly turn messy and unrestrained. He moves a little faster, one of his hands running up and down her side, igniting her skin. It makes her rake her fingers down his back, digging them in when he thrusts his hips harder.

“Yes,” she groans.

He does it again, and again, until she’s about to come apart, when he suddenly stops. Before she can say or do anything, he shifts them so that he’s on his side and she’s turned back against him. He lifts her thigh and surges into her, kissing the side of her neck.

“Oh god… Thomas… please…” she begs incoherently, unsure what she’s begging for. She doesn’t want him to stop but she’s also so unbelievably turned on that she just wants him to make her come again. One of his hand cups her breast, then drifts low on her belly. She grips his forearm, her other arm reaching up and wrapping around his neck. He turns his head, his lips grazing over her arm.

“God, Colbie,” he says in a low voice.

His hand trails lower, brushing between her legs. Her muscles clench around him and he groans, his sure, steady movements faltering momentarily before he slams into her.

She bites her lip so hard that she’s surprised she doesn’t draw blood. “Yes,” she moans, the word nearly ending in a shriek. “God, right-”

He thrusts into her hard before she can get another word out, his thumb running over her clit.

“Thomas!” she cries out, another orgasm rushing through her.

Everyone and everything ceases to exist for that brief moment but for the way he moves against her, the way his hand grips her hip, the way he hoarsely groans her name when he comes. Thomas stills against her, holding her to him. He’s breathing heavily, his eyes closing when she runs a shaking hand through his hair.

They eventually shift so she’s on her back, his arm resting across her waist and his lips pressing kisses across her shoulder. She tilts her head down, her lips seeking his in slow, soothing kisses. She’s perfectly content not to move, so she makes a quiet noise in protest when he does.

“I’ll be right back,” he says quietly against her mouth, then gets up and heads into the bathroom.

She curls against his side when he returns, his arm wrapping around her waist and his lips brushing over her hair.

“Your bed is more comfortable than the guest bed,” she mumbles sleepily.

“Are you saying my guest bed isn’t up to your standards?”

Colbie cracks her eyes open and glances up at him. “No. But you’re in this one. So it’s more comfortable.”

She grins at his exasperated look.

“That was terribly cheesy,” he says through a smile.

She settles back against his side, his hand running through her hair nearly lulling her to sleep. A sudden, horrific thought makes her eyes fly open again a few minutes later.

“Thomas?”

“Yes?”

“You have coffee, right? I can’t function in the morning without caffeine.”

The room is quiet. “I have tea,” he answers.

“That’s just… pompous plant water,” she says, sitting upright.

His eyes roam over her bare form before he asks, “Where do you come up with these things?”

“The internet,” she says, as if he should have known the answer. “Also, it’s just a fact.”

He sighs heavily. “If you truly can’t function without coffee, I’ll go out in the morning and get you some.”

Colbie slides her legs over his, straddling him and resting her hands on his chest. “You really are the perfect man,” she sighs.

A shiver runs down her spine when he trails his fingertips up and down her back.

“Is that all it takes to convince you of perfection? A willingness to go get you coffee?” Thomas smirks.

“No,” she says, deliberately rolling her hips against his and delighting in his sharp intake of air.

She leans down, molding her lips over his. “But it helps,” she murmurs.