Heather and Josh's Relationship Explored

“Heather, can I talk to you for a moment?” Josh stepped out of the shadows created by the door awning and touched Heather gently on the elbow. The contact was muted by her uniform jacket, but it was enough for her to turn her face to look at him completely.

“Of course, Pilot Yuy, come in.” Josh was surprised that he hadn’t startled her at all, hidden as he was in the shadows, but Heather showed no signs what so ever of not knowing, or at least sensing, he was there. Unruffled, Heather slid her key into her apartment door and snapped open the lock. She pushed the door open wide and let Josh precede her inside, before quietly returning it to its frame. Before Josh could turn around to speak, she disappeared into her kitchenette to set down her grocery bag. “Have a seat, Pilot. I’ll be right with you,” Heather’s voice drifted back to the simple decorated living area. She busied herself in the kitchen with putting away her groceries. Joshua watched as she moved back and forth between the high cabinets and the fridge for a moment before stepping fully into the small space. There was just enough room to turn around completely between the stove and the refrigerator without hitting the countertop. Heather pulled her final item out of the bag and pushed the canvas bag into a drawer. The last item was a box of cereal that went into the low cabinet in the middle. Josh stared at her as she bent over to place the box on the bottom shelf. Without surveying his actions, he stepped behind her and placed his hands on her waist, her body’s defense mechanisms causing her to freeze completely in place, the box still in her fingers.

“We’re alone, Heather, you can call me Josh.” One hand remained on her waist, straightening her with a slight pressure, while the other brushed her deep crimson ponytail away from her face. He bent over her and straightened as she did, his lips close to her ear, his breath warm and tingly on her face. She swallowed roughly.

“Pilot Yuy.” She began, struggling not to crush her elbow against his ribs and run.

“Josh.”

She struggled. “Josh. Okay, Josh. I don’t think you should be standing so close, nor should we be on any kind of intimate terms. On a good day, we barely manage not to slit each others’ throat.” Heather attempted to pry his fingers off her waist, but they refused to budge. “Please, Josh. Let me go and we can talk like civilized people.”

“Not a chance.” Before Heather could understand the implication of his words, he spun her around and silenced anymore protests the only way he could think of: he smashed his lips against hers, his hand twined securely in her pony tail, deftly undoing the band. The wave of her blood red curls poured over his arm and down her back. He backed her against the cabinet, and with his arm firmly around her waist, lifted her onto it, his hips forcing her to spread her thighs to accommodate his nearness. Heather’s mind reeled, and she attempted to push him away, only to have his tongue coax her mouth open. Heat rose through her body, and she couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t felt cold.

Forcing himself to allow her to breathe, Josh released her, his face still hovering a couple of mere centimeters from her face. He watched as her evening sky purple eyes focused on his mouth, then shifted upward to his own golden hazel eyes. Storm clouded rolled through the pupils fogging her capacity for reason.

“Josh, please.” Heather brought her hands up to his chest and pushed as hard as she could, her body sliding forward on the counter. Josh started to step back, and then thought better of it. Instead, he slid his left hand up her outer thigh, the ring on his pinky glinting in the soft light of the kitchenette. She watched, stunned and horrified as the hand continued its upward path, turning and grazing the outward peak of her breast and up her throat to cup her jaw. For a moment, she thought he would kiss her again, but then she fell his fingers tighten, the cold metal of the silver band rubbing against her cheek. Anger radiated from his eyes and down into her body as she felt his whole body clinch with the control he exerted over his temper. She winced, tensing her muscles and waiting for the blow that was sure to come, all the while, refusing to close her eyes and let him sense her fear.

“Please what, Heather? Please keep going? Please don’t stop? No, wait, I got it. Please be civilized. Well, you know what? I am through with being civilized when we’re alone and not on a mission. You either like me, or you don’t. It’s that simple.” Too late, Josh realized that he was scaring her. The weight of his emotions, forced down over hers, had crushed her into catatonic submission. He pulled his fingers through her hair and let go of her face, backing up a step and allowing her to relax slightly. Josh took a deep breath and walked into the living room. Heather sat frozen for a moment, digesting his words. The door remained closed, so she knew he was still in the apartment. She let the jar of her feet against the floor propel her forward, following him into the living room.

“Josh, I’m sorry I implied that you were not civilized for . . .for . . .for whatever that was.” Heather fumbled, at loss for words to describe their encounter. “You frightened me, that’s all. I do not know what to think about us, simply because we can hardly stand each other in public, therefore, I had no reason to believe that a private life would be any different. There isn’t much that happens on this base that does not involve us working together, and yet, we are constantly threatening to murder each other.” Heather stood rigidly in the door way to her tiny living room, weighing her words carefully against the thoughts she wished him to understand.

“Heather, have you ever thought about why we can’t stand each other?” Josh plopped himself down on her overstuffed beige couch and made himself comfortable, leaving just enough room for Heather to sit, if she wished. She didn’t, but he offered anyway. Heather shook her head slightly in answer to his question, her eyebrows smudged together in thought. No, she hadn’t thought much about it, she had just figured that they didn’t like each other, and that was that. “It’s not because I don’t like you. I would be lying to you and myself if I even thought that.” He smiled, his arm tossed over the back of the loveseat as if he belonged there. “Sexual frustration.” He laughed when Heather’s brows creased further. “The tension and the anger that we feel between us is nothing but sexual frustration. I want you, and my body reacts. You want me, but you don’t realize it. Your body does. It’s how you know I’m near you, and why every nerve in your body tenses the moment I even get close enough to touch you.” Heather was concentrating so hard on his words, she hadn’t realized that he had come up off the couch and was now standing beside her. She sharply inhaled as he steered her forward and pushed her down onto the cushions of the couch. He followed her down, his arm around her shoulders refusing to let her up. His eyes devoured her as she licked her dry lips and swallowed hard. She could feel every motion of his fingers as the traced tiny circles on the nape of her neck. “Heather, relax.” Josh commanded, moving to pull off her jacket. She refused for a moment, but then allowed him to take it from her as she felt the temperature in the room rise several degrees with the feel of his fingers on her shoulders. Heather felt every stroke as his fingers followed her jacket down her now bare arms. The white button down she wore under it did as little to hide the bulge of her cleavage as the heavy fitted jacket had. The top button of the shirt had come undone under the strain, and her blouse gaped to nearly one third of the way over her bosom. Josh stared hard at the button that kept her lacy white bra hidden from view, wishing for it to pop as well, but it remained steadfast against the pressure. Heather followed his eyes downward and found herself staring into the deep valley between her breasts. Quickly, she reached to close her shirt, but Josh grabbed her hands.

“It’s not good to put that kind of strain on fabric, you’ll pop the button clean off.” He smiled, his fingers brushing the top of the mound, before pulling her hands down into her lap and away from the opening.

Heather started at the contact, but allowed him to draw her hands into his, holding them close to her body, starving for the contact, but not knowing why or how to ask for it. The dark purple rims of her eyes wavered with the fear and questions that raced through her mind, unanswered and unwanted. Wide eyed, she looked up at Josh with such innocent curiosity that he couldn’t help but smile as he bent forward and pressed his chapped lips to her dampened, swollen pout. Heather watch his lips descend toward hers, her conscious struggling to find some reason she shouldn’t let him enjoy this impending kiss, some reason she couldn’t give herself up to the kiss and just let go. Her heart told her to shut up and kiss him back. She attempted to do both by passively letting him enjoy her before he slid his tongue against her lips and her senses went haywire. The nerve endings all the way down her body felt the invasion of her mouth, but she surrendered easily, as some who might get leniency for an easy conquest. A drum somewhere in the back of her brain thumped out the warning of his weight pushing her backward into the cushions, but the brave soul beating it was silenced by the swarm of pleasure seekers too long silenced.

Josh pulled his mouth off Heather’s and kissed down the exposed column of her throat, struggling to slow his breathing. He didn’t want to scare her by moving too quickly through the steps. He needed those steps to ease Heather into the state of delirium and passion he wanted her to be in. His heart beat in his ears, and he fought to be able to hear her quick breaths as Heather struggled to understand the sensations so new. She had never been allowed physical, or perhaps any affection, and now as she was being pushed off the deep end into the pool of feeling, Heather was realizing that perhaps it would be better to be able to swim first.

“Oh, Heather, honey, you feel so good.” Josh moaned into her collarbone, his mouth trailing hot kisses into the hollow between the mounds of her breasts. Heather gasped, content to float on the sea of passion, or even to breathe under the surface, having given up on the fight to tread desire.

With the extra weight of Josh pushing the fabric of her shirt taut over her breasts, the button pulled tight and was sent flying across the room. It pinged against the fireplace mantle and knocked over the single frame in the room. It was a lightweight frame with silver plated etch work with a picture from a trip to the Earth Base. The frame tumbled to the floor, taking out a thin navy colored taper candle sitting on the coffee table on the way down. Josh sucked in a deep breath, trying to release enough tension not to laugh at all the commotion caused by one small silver uniform button. He peered down, hoping that Heather had been too rapped up in the kisses to notice the chaos across the room. She blinked her eyes open slowly and turned her head toward the noise. A smile crept over her face and she looked in the direction of the torn threads. The memory of Josh’s earlier comment about the strain on the button floated through her mind, and she couldn’t help it anymore. She dissolved into giggles, still sprawled under Josh.

Josh sighed, laying his head on Heather’s chest, careful not to crush her or keep her from breathing. It would be hard enough for her to gain her breath after her laughing, not to have to fight with his weight. Not knowing what to do with her hands, Heather wrapped them around Josh’s back as she let her giggles subside into choked hiccups. Josh smiled at the sheer silliness of their situation. He pulled himself on to his elbows, her arms still draped over his shoulders.

“Are you quite finished?” She nuzzled her neck with his nose, and she let out one more laugh, then, as if on cue, a yawn. Heather raised sleepy eyes to look at Josh. With a half grin and a suppressed yawn of his own, he lifted himself off the sofa and then bent to heave her up into his arms.

“Josh, put me down. I can walk.” Heather protested, her arms gripping his neck as he ignored her and walked over to the door, balancing her in his arms as he locked the door and turned to the hallway on the other side of the living room.

“Right side, or left, Heather?” Josh paused waiting for her answer. She hesitated, scared of what would happen next, the sofa had been safe she thought. Beds with another person meant only one thing in her mind, and she wasn’t ready for that step. “If you don’t answer, and I open the bathroom, I’m dropping you in the tub and turning on the cold water,” he threatened, waiting for her response.

“Left,” she squeaked, lowering her hand from his neck to point at her bedroom door. She hid her face in his neck, terrified at what could happen next, but partially too tired to stop him from bringing her to her bed. Josh set her down on the bed and opened the drawers in her armoire, looking for a t-shirt or nightgown of some kind. He found an over sized t-shirt in the second to last drawer and tossed it onto the end of the bed. Heather stared up at him dumbly. “A shirt?” Heather coughed, trying to regain her voice. The strength and wit that she was always encased and protected by waved as it left her, sprawled as she was on the queen sized comforter with the thorny rose vines. At that moment, she couldn’t decide whether her chances were better with Joshua or being swallowed alive by the thorns under her bare feet.

“Put it on, or I’ll undress you and put it on myself.” Josh’s anger returned slowly as he realized that she still didn’t realize that force was not part of his romantic arsenal. He watched as she slipped off the bed and turned her back to him, pretending to be extremely interested in putting her tags and ring on the nightstand. She wavered for a minute, but eventually pulled the shirt over her head, unbuttoning her uniform from underneath and sliding her green uniform pants off only when she was sure that the nightshirt covered her thong clad bottom. Without looking at him, she climbed into the bed and pulled her sheets up to her chin, scooting all the way to the wall against the far side of the bed. Taking a deep calming breath, Josh pulled off his t-shirt and uniform pants, leaving his blood red boxers hanging loosely about his hips. Normally, they would have followed his pants in a heap on some random place on his floor, but Heather was stressing enough without having to see a naked man for the first time as well. Turning off the over head light, he felt his way back to her bed, and slipped under the light green sheet, gently pulling it from Heather’s death grip tucked under her chin.

“Relax, I’m not going to force you into anything I can see that you’re totally unprepared for. But, you will be ready one day, and I’ll be waiting for you.” Josh stroked down the length of Heather’s curled thighs and settled his arm across her waist, pulling her back tightly against his front. She tensed for a moment before his hand rubbing her stomach through the shirt soothed her enough to let sleep wash through her tired body.

“Good night, Josh. Thank you.” Josh smiled at her droopy eyes and kissed Heather’s cheek. She snuggled deeper under the cover and against him.

“Good night, princess.” Josh sighed, enjoying the weight of her body against his. It would be a long night.


Words This Chapter: 2,869 words
Words Total: 20,000 words

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