The P.A.

Chapter 29: Prelude

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After MJ brushed her teeth, she poked her head in Heath's room. She felt awkward to just walk in without announcing herself in some way.

Heath looked up from where he was sitting up in bed with his laptop across his knees. The lamp was on next to him.

"Come on, then," he said with a smile. "What are you waiting for?"

MJ entered the room with an embarrassed shrug. "I don't know, I just feel funny," she admitted.

"Aww, MJ," Heath breathed. "You look fucking amazing in that thingummy you're wearing."

"I have to admit that I wasn't actually thinking that anyone would see me in it when I bought it," MJ said as she scooted toward the bed.

"No no, walk slower," Heath entreated, setting his laptop aside. "I really like it, you know? What do you call it?"

"Uh, it's a tie-dye cami knickers set," MJ told him as she got into bed. "I like it because it's one hundred percent cotton, which is hard to find, sometimes. I get hot really easily, and cotton breathes the best, you know?" She smiled. "I can't believe you're interested in this stuff." She shook her head.

She noticed that he was on top of the light summer down comforter she was under, and that he had another one pulled over himself, like on the plane.

"You don't have to do that," she said, gesturing to the blanket. "I think we're past that, don't you?"

"I don't mind, though," Heath said. "If it makes you feel safer, you know?"

"Heath, wait a minute," MJ said, turning to face him. "You don't think I feel unsafe around you, do you?"

"No, not exactly, but, you know what I mean," he said, smoothing her hair back from her face. "It's like insurance, to make sure nothing improper happens, right? Oh god, MJ, you smell absolutely marvelous, too, you know that?" And he nuzzled into her neck.

But MJ pushed him away so she could talk. "It's not like I'm worried you're suddenly going to lose control of yourself or something like that, you get that, right?" MJ said, leaning over so she could see his face. "I just--I'm so, so nervous about my body, about how I look, about you suddenly getting a peek at something and being--disgusted by it--or feeling something blubbery and gross--and cellulite-y--"

"MJ. MJ." Heath shook his head impatiently, shushing her. He grabbed her by the forearms and straddled her, so he was sitting across her lap in his striped pajama bottoms and tank top. His toned biceps flexed and rippled as he gripped her arms. He looked into her eyes, his gaze deep and intense.

And oh so sexy.

MJ could feel herself starting to get fluttery from how he was looking at her.

Very deliberately, he lowered her hand to his crotch, so she could feel him.

It was like he had a steel rod between his legs.

He held her hand there for a moment, and she opened her fingers so she could grasp him through the fabric of his pajamas, and this action made him let out a low moan and close his eyes.

MJ applied a little pressure, and Heath released her other hand so he could close his fingers over hers and guide her a little in an up and down motion. His head fell forward as his eyes closed, and hearing his heavy breathing was making MJ breathe like that, too, and making her wet.

"Oh god," he groaned.

He pulled her hand off of him, though she could tell he didn't want her to stop, and he climbed off her lap to sit next to her again.