7 comments/ 14246 views/ 4 favorites At Night The Ice Weasels Come By: YouKnowILikeItRough "Hey! Bartender! Another gin and vodka martini over here, heavy on the gin. And the vodka for that matter..." Brittain scanned the area behind the counter, trying to find the bartender, who had apparently decided to pull a disappearing act. "Sweet. Awesome. Phenomenal," she muttered under her breath, beginning to dig through the glass dish of assorted holiday candy sitting on the bar. "Because my Valentine's day wasn't already fucking spectacular enough." The rifling through sweets in search of anything with peanut butter became more aggressive the longer she was without a drink. "BARTENDER! Think I can get that drink already? You realize that you are, in fact, a BAR TENDER, correct? It is your job to tend the bar. I am at the bar, tend to me!" She vented, still burrowing through the dish. She was giving this skinny, Kate Moss, coke-head looking bar slut one more chance before crawling behind the counter and mixing another herself... "Sweetheart, you are lucky you're cute and it's Valentine's Day..." Not anticipating a low, smooth, decidedly masculine voice in place of the bar slut's, Brittain snapped her head up immediately. And then immediately started coughing and pounding her chest, sucking in jagged little wisps of air out of unparalleled surprise when she laid eyes on the previous bartenders replacement for the night. He hurried over to where she sat, reaching out across the counter to touch her, to make sure she was okay. Instantly she drew back, before he could even offer a glass of water, putting an end to the cough fit. Her surprise had been trumped by her anger, her bitterness, her irrational need for one god damn peanut butter cup. "Well, sweetheart, let's get a couple things clear here. Number one, I have a name and it is sure as fuck not sweetheart. Two, what kind of a bar do you run in which the strung out staff can disappear as they please?" she countered deliberately. The volume and vehemence in her voice not only startled both of them, but another man and woman sitting just a bit down the bar. She couldn't even bring herself to look at him as she waited for his response, bracing herself for something equally vile to come out of his mouth. That ridiculously sexy mouth of his... "Come on now, Sam's not that bad. Don't you think maybe you're being a touch too hard on someone you don't even know?" There was a kindness and sympathy in his voice that made Brittain feel ashamed of her child-like outburst. For a moment she wanted to be an adult and answer 'Yes, you're right', because she knew he was and normally she would admit that, but tonight the realization that he was right and she was not hit her with extreme force and any chance of her being civil flew out the window. "No!" she practically yelled. Again, more looks from the pair down the bar, particularly the woman. Good. If my Valentines day is going to suck, yours can do. I hope you choke on your olive. Whore. On the one hand, Brittain was relieved to see wasn't the only person flying solo, as the couple had clearly just met tonight. On the other, and the other hand was winning out by a long shot, she was pissed off that they had the nerve to find one another and leave her the only miserable person in sight. Misery does love company. The bartender laughed aloud, shaking his head and revealing a grin that inevitably made women turn to red jello around him. Hot, wet, red jello to be more accurate. "You're a girl, it's your job to hate other women, so I'm not going to hold this against you. Plus, I think deep down you know you're being crazy and you just can't bring yourself to admit it. I admire a stubborn streak once in a while. Next drink's on me," he smiled, taking in the stunning blonde seated before him. He got to work making her another drink and as he did he watched her silently as she somewhat obsessively went back to her peanut butter quest. He wouldn't have been able to take his eyes of her if he had tried, anyway. On any given day, Brittain looked good. Better than good, and certainly better than most. Tonight, though... Well, there are some nights when everything just comes together for a person. With her hair pulled partially up, bangs managing to fall both innocently and seductively across her right eye, a little black baby doll style dress (he had sisters, he knew such terminology) accentuating her amazing collarbone- one of her best features- and those incredible blue eyes, Brit was having one of those nights. Even angry, she was radiant. She was the very definition of passion and the bartender definitely took notice of this. His own passion was stirred by merely being in her vicinity. He wondered why she had decided to come here on Valentines Day, why she was all dressed up and sitting alone at a bar knocking back martini after martini. Why was she so irate? Something had to have happened to make her so angry, this wasn't her. Of that he was sure. He could laugh it off to her, but the hatred in her voice stung a bit. Stung a lot. It had been years since anyone got to him like that. Straightening his holiday red tie and giving his shaggy dark hair a sly brush with his hand, he headed back over to her with a fresh drink and a handful of Reese's from his own personal stash, kept just behind the bar. She quickly snatched the drink up and raised it to her lips. She was stopped mid-sip by the sight of four peanut butter cups in all their red tin foil glory on the counter before her, calling her name. With giant eyes showing the first sign of warmth all night, she looked up to the bartender in amazement. She was about to mutter a thank you, or something along those lines, when the man at the other end of the counter raised a hand for service. The bartender's eye caught hers and he gave her an almost apologetic looking smile and a wink before hurrying off. She smiled to herself as she watched him laugh with other customers in the bar. Her stomach began to twist and her arms prickled as she observed her charming bartender. It was true that she found him very attractive physically, with that casual and boyish mess of hair and the sweetest brown eyes you could find in another, but that's not what drew her to him. Normally she would have been turned on by his choice of attire alone- she had a particular weakness for men in dress shirts with rolled up sleeves and ties- but with him it was different. She found she had to readjust herself in her seat she was getting so antsy over the simple sight of this man. She couldn't focus on anything other than that she just wanted to be near him, to touch him. Not necessarily even in a sexual way, she just longed to have him close by. She imagined him lifting a gentle hand to her face, grazing her cheek, her neck. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face as he cupped both sides of her neck with his hands, lifting her chin to him, lowering his lips so close to hers she could almost taste them... A flashback of bare flesh and animalistic moans tore Brittain out of her daydream and back into reality. The churning in her stomach intensified and took on a whole new form. Cupping both hands over her mouth viciously, she tried with every bit of strength she had not to throw up all over the bar. A minute of deep, soothing breaths subdued the sick feelings, but prompted the tears once again. Desperately, she squeezed her eyes shut, but the dark only brought back more flashes of the nights events. Cupping her hands in front of her mouth, she wished she was religious and could pray these images and feelings away. "At night the ice weasels come..." Brittain whispered to herself , remembering a situationally applicable old Groening quote. "What was that? I didn't catch that," the bartender chimed in, turning his attention away from the sweet and almost feminine looking cocktail he was mixing and directing it toward Brittain. Slightly rattled by being overheard, she whisked a teardrop or two away and shook her head just a touch before responding. She would not let him see her cry. The line had to be drawn somewhere, and this was one she refused to cross. "It was nothing, just something I remembered, a little quote. Seemed to fit my current mood." "And what quote would that be?" His concern with what she had to say not only took her by surprise her, but secretly gave way to a small, internal wave of fondness for the man. "Again, it's really nothing. 'Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra'," she started, still barely above a whisper. "'Suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night the ice weasels come.'" She gave half a smile, full of sarcasm and sorrow, and finished off the nights fourth martini. "I swear you are making the weakest martini's humanly possible." "Just looking out for you, kid," he said with a tender smile that was reflected in his tone. Any momentary hint of fondness Brittain had for the bartender was crushed with that one comment. "I don't need you to look out for me, got it? I am a big girl, I can take care of myself. And I sure as shit handle a big girl drink, okay? Don't be cute with me, don't be sweet. Don't even be nice to me right now. Just bring me another drink," she said, going from pissed off to pleading in just a moments time. She dropped her head into her hands and with a pained sigh managed a "please", knowing that her repulsive day and mood gave her no right to forget her manners. If nothing else, she did have manners. Either that or all the gin and vodka in her system was finally beginning to take effect. Perfect. Let me get sloppy drunk and make a fool of myself. I will get so belligerent I won't even remember you're probably at home fucking my best friend right now. And maybe if I get really drunk, get downright sloshed, I will even forget it was supposed to be me... "You're right, I'm sorry. I just want you to be okay, okay? I didn't mean anything beyond that," he said, unable to keep up his light, happy demeanor. "Wait," he began to correct himself, "that's not what I meant. What I meant was 'Look bitch, if you want a fucking drink stop being such a whining little prick, got it? You want a big girl drink, act like a big girl.' Is that better? Can you work with that? I'm not so good at this whole not being nice thing," he laughed, looking for her approval. Oh, you're better at it than you think you are. "Yeah, that works. Way to give it the old college try there, Champ." She allowed herself to crack a smile small and when she looked up from her still uneaten peanut butter cups, she found herself easily lost in his eyes. They held each others gaze for long enough to take Brittain back to her daydream. A warm and familiar feeling began to grow within her, making her feel awkward and self conscious. She was certain he could tell what she was thinking, could tell how desperately she wanted him to just ignore her snapping comments and protests and wrap his arms around her, pull her close, force her to lose herself in him. She wanted to ask him what was on his mind, she wanted to be inside his head. She needed to know if he felt at all the same way. Her mouth opened a bit, preparing to ask, but stopped itself. He reached out for her a second time that night, hoping like hell she didn't pull away this time, knowing he wouldn't be able to handle it if she did. Their hands found each other with a sharp inhale on Brittain's end and slight stiffening on his end. How was it that this woman could make him feel so much, feel so alive, from so little? He wanted nothing more in the world than to grab hold of her tightly, breath in her intoxicating scent, wrap his fingers in that golden hair, and bury himself so far within her that he lost himself and all ties to reality. The soft flesh of her tiny hands inside his was enough to make him harden a bit. Had someone not interrupted the embrace with a bellowing laugh and the calling of his name, he undoubtedly would have taken her right there, right on that very counter, without any regard for the other patrons in the bar. Unfortunately, the embrace had been interrupted and his name was being called. With a gentle brush of his thumb across the palm of her hand and a squeeze, he excused himself and became once again the charming bartender Brittain had witnessed earlier, shaking hands and exchanging the man version of a hug with a guy who had just walked into the place. The pair talked for a while, exchanging laughs and nods and shoulder punches. Brittain couldn't make out exactly what they were saying over the music and talking in the bar, but at one point the new guy seemed to be commenting on the looks of the place. Brittain herself had noticed how nice this place was these days, even compared to just a few years ago. Nauseating red and white holiday decorations aside, Brittain was almost in awe of what the Green Door had become. The lighting was kept low as always, coming primarily from gorgeous hanging lamps of green and blue blown glass, and all the shelves were lined with equally eye catching glass bottles, half of which most people had never even heard of before, the wine selection being particularly amazing. Judging by the Bob Dylan she heard coming from above, the bar still held itself to a high expectation as far as music went as well. My god, it's been so long. Too long. What am I doing here? She was deprived of an opportunity to answer her own question by a familiar voice over a microphone. She shook herself out of her own thoughts and turned her attention to the miniature stage portion of the bar. Oh no. In front of a giant screen stood her bartender and the same stranger, smiles wide and eyes full child-like laughter. "Okay kids, here's the thing- I know it's Valentines day and all, and you lovely people just want to sit and enjoy your dinner and drinks, but my dear friend Kevin here has requested we pull out the old karaoke machine. The man does have a point, it is Thursday and Thursday is, after all, karaoke night. What do you say? Do all you incredible, amazing, beautiful ladies out there want to hear your men serenade you with an after dinner love song? Can I get a show of hands?" The hands of all women in attendance shot up, and who could blame them? One look at him up there in his dark washed jeans, casually wrinkled and untucked white button up shirt with the red tie and even a rational woman would sign her soul away if he asked sweetly enough- and let's face it, most women aren't even that rational. His laughter rang out across the establishment and he continued on. "Aww, you guys are fantastic. I knew I had a winning crowd in here tonight. Who wants to start the night off? Guy in the blue shirt?? Come on, you know you want to... No? Okay. Fine. I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll start the night off and maybe then you guys won't be quite so shy." Turning his eyes away from the crowd and resting them intently on Brittain, he cued up his song of choice. Ohhhh really, really no. No. No. No. "Oh yes. This song is going out to someone I think could use a little pick me up tonight. I'm not exactly sure what's going on, but I know I'd like to find out. Maybe she'll take pity on me for embarrassing myself so thoroughly up here tonight and let me in a little bit. Here's hoping..." With a sad smile and a shrug, he turned to Kevin, who apparently was in charge of the music. All Brittain could do was stare on, mouth ever so slightly agape, when The Cars "My Best Friends Girl" started to play. "No... way..." she uttered in stunned disbelief, biting her lower to keep from smiling too big and giving him the upper hand. When you bite your lip, it's a reaction to love uh-ove uh-ove. Here she comes again... Her hands clasped her mouth for a second time tonight, but this time it was to keep from bursting out laughing. He's good alright, I'll give him that... She watched him intensely as he carried on with the music, illiciting cheers from the bars more drunken inhabitants. Watching his head bob to the music and take his whole body with it, she felt an overwhelming urge to run to him and force her lips upon his. She wanted to breath him in, suck in all she could of his soul, his life, the very essence that made him so damn cute. Inside her, tender and lovely feelings fought with feelings of intense desire and a sexual urgency she hadn't experienced in a very, very long time. Oh how she longed to claw away that shirt of his, to expose his bare chest below, run her hands over it, kiss it, feel it against her own naked flesh. She shut her eyes in an attempt to make the image even more clear in her mind. Rubbing one leg slowly and deliberately along the other, she envisioned him bending down over her to take a bare shoulder into his warm, wet mouth. She tilted her head a bit to accommodate the image of his head and began to curl her toes, tensing her thighs and squeezing tightly the treasure that lie between them. A low, deep breath escaped her lips. In her head he was... "Falling asleep on me over there? Was I really that terrible?" A teasing voice. Brittain opened her eyes with regret and an embarrassed chuckle. Shaking her head, she explained otherwise. "No, not exactly, just... thinking," she laughed. "Really? You laugh? I'm shocked..." he poked fun at her, again exposing her to that energetic grin of his. She laughed again and shook her head, reaching down to toy with the Reese's that still sat before her. She was not good at being put on the spot, not good at being called out. "This is good. This is progress. I was hoping maybe a little song or two would help to lighten the mood. Now you wanna tell me what has you in this mood at all?" he urged gently, not wanting to press her for too much too soon. She was just starting to warm up to him again and he was not going to throw that out the window just to appease his own curiosity. It was clear her mood changed at the very mention of the nights events, though. The smile erased itself quickly from her delicate lips and that same old look of pain entered her eyes. So pained he could barely stand to look at her and not throw his arms around her. She twirled a finger around the edge of her glass and brought the drink to her lips. "What is there to talk about, really? Just another brilliant Valentine's Day, can't we leave it at that?" "Well, I guess we could, but really is that what you want?" "Do you know what I want, Benjamin?" she questioned accusingly. "I want to have not seen my boyfriend fucking my best friend today, that's what I what. I want to go back in time and arrive at Perry's place after a THREE HOUR DRIVE to surprise him with a Valentines day dinner and not walk in on him screwing Kate. My Kate. My. Fucking. Best. Friend. I want the sound of it to go away. I want to be able to close my eyes and not see the two of them, okay? Does that make you happy? Is that what you wanted to hear?" she answered, the anger intensifying with each question. "FUCK!" she cried out, the burning hot tears pooling in the corners of her eyes and spilling down over her now blood red cheeks. Ben, not knowing how to respond or console in this situation, just knowing he wanted to tear out this other guys throat, attempted to place a kind hand on her arm in a gesture of support and comfort. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" Brittain practically screamed at him, jerking her arm away with such force that she took her glass with it, shattering it into pieces and leaving its liquid remnants to spill about the counter. Ben stiffened and sucked in a jagged breath, completely taken aback by the recent outburst. The two had effectively commanded the attention of every last guest in the joint, a fact which he was slowly becoming more and more aware of. Feeling overwhelmed by the stares of strangers and the crumpling of this broken woman in front of him, he did the only think he could think to do. Slapping a towel down on the spilled drink, he made a brief, to-the-point announcement that he was closing the bar down early and that to make it up to them their last drink was going to be on the house. Quickly and efficiently, he and the only other person on duty checked out the remaining customers and after all had been sent home and the doors had been locked, he made his way back to Brittain at the counter. She was hunched over in her stool, still crying weakly and playing with those stupid damn peanut butter cups when he walked up behind her. She didn't even move when he placed a hand on her back and began to rub in a gentle, ideally soothing, circular motion. That's when he noticed he noticed the gash in her wrist and the droplets of blood forming a fitting Valentines day red pool on the counter top. At Night The Ice Weasels Come "My god! Brittain, why didn't you tell me you cut yourself?? Jesus, let me get a band-aid. Here," he said, grabbing the wet towel from the bar and making her press it down onto the wound. Hurrying behind the bar, he found the first aid kit and rushed back to her side. He opened the kit and grabbed a decent sized bandage and a disinfecting wipe and removed the soiled towel from her pale wrist. "Thankfully, it really doesn't seem to be that bad, but you still should have let me know earlier." He scooped up her hand in his and turned the barstool so that Brittain was facing him. The tears had caused her face to swell and miniature rivers of black to form on her cheeks. She looked so young, so fragile, so innocent that he wanted to take her mouth in his and tell her he loved her. Tell her she didn't need this guy, that he would take care of her, that he wanted to be the one there for her. But he said nothing because the glazed over, despondent look in her eyes broke his heart and he couldn't choke out a single word if his life had depended on it. Instead, he went back to tending to her wrist. Something about the cold, wet touch of the cloth to her flesh jolted Brittain back to life. Responding in the same way that earned her the cut, she snatched her arm away from him. "I can take care of myself. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself," she snapped at him, staring coldly into his eyes and she tore the antiseptic wipe from him grasp. "God dammit, Brittain!" Finally, he was to his breaking point. He could only handle so much before snapping himself. "Just let me help you, okay?!" he ordered her, grabbing violently her arm and pulling it toward him. Brittain tensed and let out a whimper that made Ben realize he had gone too far. Loosening the grip on her arm, he closed his eyes for a minute and when he opened them Brittain saw what looked to be a tear forming there. With a passion and intensity in his eyes that made her tremble, he pleaded with her in a whisper, his voice on the verge of cracking. "Please. Please just let me help you. I need to be able to help you. I need you to let me." Brittain, still tense, didn't respond immediately. The desperate look on his face made her want to reach out and touch it, to ease his pain. But she couldn't. She was in too much pain of her own. So she just nodded weakly, and he went back to dressing her injury. She didn't know if she was just incredibly sensitive to touch or if he intended for each swipe of the cloth on her skin to feel so intentional, sensual practically. Mind still cloudy from all the crying, the only thing Brittain was capable of focusing on was the feeling of Ben's fingers on her skin. The hair on her arms and neck prickled under his touch, forcing long, hard breaths to maintain her composure. Lost in these feelings, Brittain hadn't even noticed that he'd finished bandaging her wrist and was now merely dragging his fingers lightly, slowly up and down her forearm. She had become so aware and sensitive to the feel of his skin on hers that she was almost tickled by the slight raking of his fingers on her arm. As much as she wanted this to continue, wanted to feel his fingers delicately raking all over her body, she knew she had to put a stop to it. Placing a hand on top of his to stop him, she looked deep into his eyes with a question in her own. "What are you doing, Ben?" Aside from breaking my heart. He couldn't answer. He didn't have a clue what he was doing. All he knew was that he needed her. He fucking needed her, and he thought she might need him, too. Uncomfortable with the question, he took his hand back and shoved both of them in the pockets of his jeans, staring at anything but Brittain's face. "Why did you come here, Brit? Why did you come to my bar? Of all the places you could have gone, Brit..." His tone had a bit of an edge to it that confused Brittain. "Umm.. I don't... I just needed to clear my head. I needed some place to go, this place was close..." "This place isn't that close, there are a lot of places closer. Try again." "You have the best karaoke selection around?" she tried, knowing if the first reason didn't fly, the second surely wasn't going to. Truth is, she wasn't sure why she had driven all the way out to Ben's bar after spotting Kate and Perry together. He was right, there were certainly a lot of good bars that would have been a lot closer. She just found herself here. He let out a polite chuckle. Shook his head. She tried again. "I don't know, Ben. I really don't. I guess... Fuck. I guess this place just feels like home still. I drive all the way back from school to see my boyfriend and my best friend in bed together, or rather- on couch together, and I just drove. I didn't really think about it until I got nearby. I don't have a place here anymore, this isn't my city anymore. I guess this really is just the closest I can get to calling something home..." She paused to gauge his response. He was still staring at the floor. "Does that make any sense to you at all?" Ben looked up at her finally, and reached out to stroke her cheek when he saw the vulnerable look she had in her eyes. "Yeah, that makes perfect sense to me. I know what it's like to find something, or someone, that feels like home." He moved toward her, pressing himself against her knees, cupping her face in his large hands. He caressed his thumbs against her jawbone and she closed her eyes, tilting her head into his hand. She could feel him easing open her legs with his knee, never taking his hands from her face, and she started to shake. With everything going on, she felt weak and incapable of fighting off the quivering he coaxed out of her. The feel of his rough jeans grazing the bare skin of her inner thighs and the chilling sensation of the air sneaking up to touch her heat was almost more than she could bear. She fought to hold back a whimper. His pelvic bone now pressed firmly between her open legs, he moved into her, sliding his hands behind her ears and burrowing them into her hair. She closed her eyes more tightly, focusing on all her other senses. Just as in her daydream before, Ben's face and lips hovered just out of reach, teasing her, tempting her. She could feel his breath upon her skin, smell a trace of mint on it. Mint. The bastard saw this coming. She froze temporarily when she first felt his soft, warm lips lighting brush over her. This time she couldn't hold back the whimper. She needed his kiss, she needed to feel his mouth against hers. There was such a force behind her desire for him that it shook her, inside and out. Ben took his time tasting her lips with his tongue, tracing the lower. Brittain opened her mouth slightly to accommodate his tongue. He saw this and proceeded on, touching his tongue to hers, discovering her mouth all over again. Gently at first and then with an urgency their mouths became one, intertwined. Brittain's hand went his face, clutching the back of his head, pulling him in so closely she wasn't sure where he ended and she began. She could feel Ben harden deep against her inner thigh. She adjusted herself to line up perfectly his thickening cock, sadly still trapped behind material, against her now very wet pussy, and suddenly realized what she was doing, and who with. Breaking the kiss, she leaned back from Ben a bit. "This can't happen, Ben. I can't do this..." "Yes you can, Brit. You want this. I want this. There's nothing to stop us," he reasoned, leaning in to taste her lips again. Again she pulled away. She was doing that a lot tonight. "What's stopping us is the fact the you disappeared on me. You may have forgotten, I get that it was two years ago, but I did not. You just... disappeared." Her voice was feeble. "You broke my heart, Benjamin. I can't just let you break it again. I can't..." Now it was Ben's turn to pull back. He ran his hands through his hair and kept them folded behind his head for a while. "You're the one who left, Brittain. I didn't move, kiddo, that was all you." "You left me before I ever left this place! That's not fair, Ben. You know that's not fair. I hadn't even decided on a grad school yet. The only reason I went three hours away is because I couldn't stand to be around you and not with you. I would not have survived staying here," she told him, tears beginning to trickle down the beaten path again. Ben dropped his arms to his sides and tilted his head at the sight of this. She wasn't going to cry again, not because of him. Moving back into her, he wrapped his arms around her- finally!- in a firm embrace. This only made Brittain cry harder. "You wouldn't have left, Brit. You wouldn't have left and you needed to leave. That school is perfect for you and I wasn't going to keep you from it. But I didn't know how to be around you and not be with you, either. So I wasn't around you." He pressed his face into the top of her head and inhaled deeply. She still used the same shampoo and still it drove him wild. Spearmint Eucalyptus. "Please, please know that I never wanted to disappear. I loved you then, oh my god I loved you, and I love you now. A couple years away doesn't change that. Perry doesn't change that." That last statement made Brittain cringe and push Ben away for the millionth time that night. Tiny hands clenched the front of his shirt and guilty eyes met his. "I loved you, I didn't love Perry. You have to know that, and you have to know that I'm sorry it was him. I mean, I guess in some way I probably deserved the Perry-Kate thing. Don't think your song choice tonight was lost on me... " "Nothing could ever make you deserve what happened tonight. Not ever. Yeah, the Perry thing sucked, still sucks, but you're right- I disappeared. What were you supposed to do?" he asked, kneading her soft hair with his hand. "Umm, I'm gonna go ahead and say not start dating your best friend" Brittain chuckled. "That may not have been my best or most kind decision ever. But god damn, I was so angry with you. I wanted to tear your heart out of your chest, because that's how I felt..." she trailed off. Ben tilted her chin and reached down to kiss her again. Soft. Loving. She cupped her hands around his as planted gentle kisses from her head, to her forehead, to the tip of her nose, before finally reaching her parted lips again. He pressed his mouth to her more firmly this time, bit at her bottom lip. Brittain's hand went around his back and fingers began to grip around him, pulling him back to his rightful spot, pulling him between inviting legs. "Ben?" "Yeah?" Kisses began to burn her neck. She squeezed his legs more tightly between her own. "I won't pull away again if you tell me not to. I won't. But I can't go through that again..." Ben's eyes, full of love and appreciation for this enchanting creature before him, gazed into Brittain's. The most gorgeous he'd ever seen, the brightest blue with a hint of green. He kissed her eyelids and smiled. "I've been telling you all night, sweetheart; I will take care of you. You are safe with me." "Well," Brittain started, "if that's true then I have only one more request." "And that would be...?" "Please god, could you just fuck the shit out of me right now??" Ben erupted in laughter at the shock of this. Never had he heard Brittain talk that way, and he had to admit, hearing it really turned him on. Grabbing her thighs and pulling her in even closer, he assured her he was up for the challenge. If the massive hard on he was sporting was any indication of the night to come, Brit had no reason to doubt him. Wrapping her legs around his ass, she squeezed her pussy against his rock hard cock and as he let out a groan she dug her fingers into his hair and pulled him in for a deep, passion-filled kiss. Still locked in the kiss, he began to run his hands up the outside of her silken thighs, biting harder her lip when she let escape a whimper and a shudder. Massaging her leg with one hand, he used the other to grab her hair and yank her head to the side, exposing the creamy sensitive flesh of her neck. Teasing slowly with his tongue at first, he began to nibble of the soft spot at her nape. If there was one thing he remembered about Brittain it was this: she liked to be bit and she liked it to hurt. Head still torn to the side, Brittain fumbled blindly with the button of his shirt. As much as she liked him in it, she liked him more out of it. The nibble to the nape became intensified, rough. His hand reached under her and grabbed tightly her ass as he forced her hot, wet core against himself. Blind fumblings made way for frantic tearing of the buttons and soon the shirt was ripped free from his chest and shoulders. Leaning in to kiss his chest, Brittain noticed just how warm and flushed his skin had become. It made her all the more eager to take it into her mouth. She wanted every inch of him in her mouth, and was determined to make that a reality by the end of the night. Her nails lightly clawed up and down his bare arms and she sunk her teeth into his shoulder. Gasping, Ben flung his head back and let Brittain kiss and lick her way across his chest and arms as he wrapped his fingers in her hair. He wanted to take her right then, hard and fast, but he had waited two years for this moment and he convinced himself he could a little longer. Still, her mouth against against his skin was enough to cause the erection of his life and it was becoming painfully strained, trapped beneath the unforgiving material of his jeans. Ever the observant lover, Brittain took notice of this and reached down to ease his pain. Petite fingers nimbly undid the jeans and carefully, softly released his member out into the air. At the touch of her fingers to his most sensitive of spots, Ben sunk his teeth even deeper than ever into Brittain's shoulder. A pained cry, a delicious pitch, sprang from her lips. Finding it impossible to take things slowly any longer, Brittain used one hand to dig into his chest and the other to massage his raging, ever-growing, erection. "I knew there was a reason I loved you so much," she teased him, positively giddy to the feel of his throbbing cock in her hand. Pulling her from her seated position on the chair, he kneeled in front of his now standing goddess and made a promise to himself that he'd worship her the way she deserved to be worshiped. His old best friend may have ruined her Valentines day, but Ben was going to make sure the day after Valentines day would be one she'd never forget. Running his hands up her legs, not missing a single inch of sensitive, precious skin, he began to kiss her thighs, wedging them open enough to lick at the innermost areas. Finding it hard to keep herself steady, Brittain braced herself by grabbing hold of Ben's hair. His tongue and hands moved higher and higher, deeper. He was pleasantly surprised when he reached the desired target, which was being guarded by a layer of thin red lace. He took a moment to suck on her through the flimsy cloth. "Since when do you wear panties, Miss Carmichael?" "Happy Valentines Day? Surprise?" "Oh, tonight has been a surprise all right," he answered, busying his hands with the task of removing the lacy under layer. Brittain lifted her dress up around her stomach to aide him in his journey; and what a journey it was. Ben took his time nipping at the surrounding area with his teeth, just hard enough to cause shivers of pain to run up Brittain's spine. Being so close he could smell her made Ben almost lose control of himself. He was going to have to find a way to cool it or he'd never be able to last long enough to pay proper tribute to his lover. His love. His mouth finally met her clitoris and instantly Brittain thought she would climax. No one had ever been able to make her come as fast as Ben, and even he was breaking a record tonight. Sensing this, he withdrew his mouth from her and began to blow on her swollen clit to slow her orgasm without ever denying her attention. At the same time he worked two fingers into her tight, searing hot entrance. The pleading on Brittain's part only made him tease her more. Moving so slowly inside her, so torturously slow and gentle, Brittain began to cry for him to be more hard. Silencing her whines, Ben grabbed hold of her dress and yanked her to the ground where he was. The dress came off in a rush, as did the remaining articles of clothing on both parties. Naked flesh on naked flesh, a flurry of hurried and urgent kisses followed. Both were determined not to leave a single spot on the others body untouched, undiscovered. The wintry cold tiling of the bar floor against her back provided even greater sensation for Brittain, contrasting with almost smoldering heat of her body. Tiny beads of sweat were beginning to form on both partners as they tore at each frantically, wrapping their limbs in the others. Brittain begged him to finally take her, force himself inside her, bury himself so deep within it hurt. She cried that she had to have him inside her that very moment or she would absolutely die, and did he want that on his conscience? That was all Ben needed to hear. He grabbed her and flipped her over, sprawling her out on the chilled floor, forcing her breasts and already rock hard nipples against the tiling. Grabbing her hair with a roughness that surprised and delighted her, Ben wasted no time being gentle when he forced his granite cock into her perfectly dripping pussy. A scream rang through the air. Fueled even more by this, Ben continued to thrust into her with all the intensity and strength he could muster, at times worrying he would split the tiny girl in half, but knowing she love it even if he did. Brittain, so overcome with the feeling of him filling her from behind, clawed at the tiles of the floor on the brink of tears. The best kind of tears. The tears that only come when you are so lost in a sea of pleasure that you lose any control you thought you had and you're exhilarated and terrified and nothing matters except that next thrust. And thrust Ben did. Hard thrusts and deep ones, followed by long and slow. He pounded her from behind and, flipping her back over, her fucked her from above. Every thrust stole a squeal or scream from Brittain's lips, bringing both of them closer to earth shattering orgasm. Nails dug more deeply into raw and reddened flesh, mouths filling each other to the point of exasperated gasps for air. Wrapping his arms so tightly around his woman that she fought for air, he informed her of his impending arrival. With the flick of a finger once, twice, three times along her clit, the duo managed an almost impossible feat- simultaneous climax. Brittain let loose a final, deafening howl and the release of built up tears as Ben emptied himself in her, not removing himself from her tender, sweet pussy until long after the final rope shot from his quivering cock. Holding each other for warmth on the cold floor, Ben pulled Brittain close to him and licked away her salty tears. God he had missed those tears. Tears proving he had done what he set out to do. Lost in the glow emanating from the incredible woman laying sleepily beside him, he fell even more in love. A smile lay permanently on her lips and Benjamin couldn't help himself. "What's on your mind, grasshopper?" he questioned coyly, mimicking a line she'd used frequently in their time together years ago. The smile grew larger, more devilish. "Oh, I don't know. I was just thinking I could really go for a peanut butter cup right about now," she toyed. "Oh really? Is that all? Never satisfied, are you, woman?" he toyed back. "Well, I guess there was one other thing, something I always wanted to try. I think you know. You did, after all, promise you'd be my first..." she trailed off, suddenly shy and hiding herself in the crook of his arm. Instantly he knew what virginity she spoke of. It was his turn to smile, and smile he did. At Night The Ice Weasels Come "You dirty whore..." he taunted her, loving her with his eyes. With a playful slap and an eruption of vibrant giggles from his Valentine, Ben got the distinct impression that this was only the beginning...