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Lydia likes Jordan. She likes him a lot.
She likes the way he always opens doors for her, the way his hand is too big and too warm in hers, the way his eyes brighten and a smile too big for his face crosses his expression whenever he sees her, the way he listens to her and strokes his thumb in soothing circles across her palm. He’s like her knight in shining armor, always there for her and always protecting her, and she likes it.
She really does.
But sometimes, all she wants to do is break through that chivalrous persona of his, because they’ve been dating for two months already and Jordan hasn’t even tried touching her underneath her skirt, let alone have sex with her. And it’s absolutely frustrating to say the very least, because Lydia has her wants and desires and it’s not that she doesn’t think Jordan can fulfill them, it’s that she knows he will and that he’ll worship her in bed like the goddess he believes she is.
All she needs to do get them off first base and straight to third fast.
“Why don’t you just tell him that you want to have sex with him?” Malia suggests bluntly, stuffing her face with pizza as they sit in the lunchroom together—her, Lydia, Kira, and Mason.
Lydia narrows her gaze. “I want to have sex with him, not scare him away.” She stabs her fork into her chicken salad and chews, not amused.
Malia rolls her eyes while Kira pipes in, “maybe you guys need to sit down and talk it out?”
“I’m his girlfriend, not a mother giving their son the sex talk.”
“What supernatural creature is your boyfriend again anyways?” Mason asks, sipping on his juice box.
“We don’t know yet,” she replies with a shrug of her shoulders, thinking about how it’s been more than six months since they’ve been working on trying to figure out what he is, scouring through hundreds and hundreds of mythology books along with various different editions of the bestiary, some of them in French or Latin which Lydia has to take extra time to translate. “All we know is that he’s immune to fire and maybe other deaths, has glowing eyes, healing powers, and sometimes likes to walk around Beacon Hills naked.” When she glances over at Mason, he looks amazingly intrigued.
“That sounds intense.”
“Wait, why don’t you just wear that skirt of yours?” Malia suddenly interrupts, finishing with her second pizza slice and now moving on to her french fries.
“Malia, I own like a hundred different skirts. You’re going to be have to be a little more specific than that sweetheart.”
“The black leather one. It’s like super short and you wear it with those really uncomfortable looking shoes,” the werecoyote describes while drenching her fries with ketchup and then stuffing them into her mouth. Kira hands Malia her napkins. “He lwoves you in thwat.”
Lydia raises a curious eyebrow, “and how do you know that?” She knows exactly what skirt Malia is talking about, it’s one of her shortest skirts she owns and it flaunts off her ass and legs perfectly. But she hasn’t worn it for a while so she can’t remember if Jordan’s ever seen her in it in the first place.
“Because, remember during the summer we went to that club with fake IDs? And you got drunk as hell? And me and Kira had to drive you home but then our car broke down and luckily Parrish passed us by on his patrol and then took you home after calling us a tow truck?” Malia waits for her to remember and slowly, that hot summer night comes back to her.
It was before they got together. She was drunk, very drunk, and she vaguely remembers stumbling against Jordan as he helped her into his cruiser, one hand wrapped around her waist and god, she remembers never wanting him to pull away. She also remembers whispering some very inappropriate things in the deputy’s ear and how he managed to keep his hands off her that night, she doesn’t even know how.
Malia continues, “well, when he saw you in that skirt, his heart started beating faster and his chemosignals were full of want and arousal.” She wiggles her brows at the strawberry blonde while grinning and Mason and Kira chuckle.
“You think a skirt will work?” Lydia scoffs, although she would be lying if she said she isn’t actually considering it because she’s willing to pretty much try anything at this moment.
“With your legs, definitely,” Kira encourages with a wink as Malia nods.
Mason grins. “Never underestimate the power of the chemosignals.”
**
Lydia can only hope Malia’s chemosignals are right as the elevator stops on the third floor of Jordan’s apartment building. She’s wearing a simple white blouse with a low neckline that shows off just the right amount of cleavage along with the supposed showstopper of the outfit, the leather mini that she realized is much shorter than she last time she remembered it. She’s just glad her mom wasn’t at home when she left, otherwise Lydia’s sure she wouldn’t have let her walk out of the house with it on. Not to mention that it’s also a freezing cold Friday night and the outfit is completely inappropriate for the weather. She’s just thankful that the building has their heater cranked up as she steps off the elevator and struts down the hallway, feeling sexy and confident as she gets to Jordan’s apartment.
Almost every Friday, Lydia and Jordan try to make it a routine to have a movie night, usually at his place. It’s a way for them to spend some alone time together that doesn’t involve looking over mythology books or solving the supernatural case of the week, and typically involves them ordering takeout, cuddling on the couch with the movie on, and some kissing.
But Lydia fully intends to change that routine tonight.
She smooths out her skirt and then fishes for the spare key she has in her purse, letting herself in with the plan to surprise him, and surprise him she does. She finds him kneeling in front of the TV in the living room, back facing her, looking through DVDs to find what movie they should watch tonight, and she shuts the door just loud enough to grab his attention.
“Oh, hey Lyds, I can’t decide between Captain America or Thor, what do you—” He doesn’t get to finish because as soon as he turns to finally look at her, the words get caught in his throat and his jaw drops open slightly as his eyes give her a once over, lingering on her legs and it makes her smile.
“Eyes up, deputy,” she teases as she steps closer to him and Jordan blushes, looking away and standing up quickly.
“Sorry, you just look really…wow,” he replies, a little breathily. “Gorgeous.”
Lydia bites her lower lip, reveling in the way Jordan keeps her gaze on her face instead of on her body, even though she wouldn’t mind his wandering eyes. Or in this case, wandering hands. “Yeah?” She hums, her voice a drawl as she steps closer to him and she can see his hands reaching out to wrap around her waist, but then his fingers brush against her cold ones and he pulls back a little and it’s like the trance breaks.
“Jesus, you’re freezing Lyds. Did you not wear a jacket?” His voice is worrying and in any other situation Lydia would find it endearing, but not in this one.
“I forgot it at home,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders, as if it’s no big deal. Because a jacket with this outfit? It would ruin the whole appeal she’s going for. But she has poor circulation and her purple nail beds are noticeable no matter how hard she tries to hide them from him.
Jordan frowns. “I’ll go make you some coffee and grab some blankets, okay?” And before she can even try and tell him that she’s fine, her boyfriend is already rushing off towards the kitchen, and god no, Lydia isn’t going to accept defeat like this.
She kicks off her heels first, because if this ends up happening her way, she’ll definitely want them off, and then pads into the kitchen where she finds Jordan turning on the coffee machine. She makes her way over to him and he doesn’t notice her until she presses her front up against his back, her hands snaking around his waist and then gently underneath his shirt, making his breath hitch as she whispers, “I know you want me, Jordan. Stop denying it.”
He turns around then, meeting her gaze and she can see his hesitant expression. “Lydia….”
And okay, maybe she’s kind of pissed now. “What is it?” She asks, annoyed. “Or am I wrong? And you don’t want me? Because if that’s the case, you might as well tell me so I can leave.” She’s about to turn away and walk out, but then Jordan’s grabbing her hand softly and pulling her back towards him so that her body’s pressed up against his again.
“It’s not that, Lyds. I want you. I want you so bad,” he says quietly, face turning red again as he admits it. “I just…didn’t want you to think that’s all I wanted you for. I didn’t want you to think I’m like all your other boyfriends. I’m sorry.”
Lydia looks at him baffled. Because leave it to Jordan Parrish to apologize for wanting her just as bad as she wants him. “I already know you’re not like my other boyfriends, Jordan. You proved that long before we even started dating.”
He nods slowly. “Sorry.”
She rolls her eyes, slightly amused. “Stop apologizing for god’s sake and just kiss me.”
Her words seem to do it for him because a smile crosses his lips and before she knows it, he’s cupping her face and kissing her and it’s not like any of the kisses they’ve had before. It starts off slow, but quickly turns rough and passionate as Lydia tangles her fingers into his hair, twisting and pulling at his dark locks as his hands leave her face to travel down to her waist, and then lower as his hands cup her ass through her leather mini. It leaves her gasping as a moan escapes her lips and allows him to slide his tongue into her mouth, letting their tongues twine and fight for dominance as they makeout messily against the kitchen counter.
“The skirt is short on purpose, y’know?” Lydia whispers against his lips when they pull away for air, her words slightly slurred just from their makeout session as she breathes heavily. She glances up at him with desire blown eyes and sees his eyes glowing with desire as well. Desire for her.
“And what purpose is that?” His voice is rough and husky and his hands still haven’t left her ass.
She gives him a teasing grin. “Take me to your bedroom and maybe you’ll find out.”
She only has to say it once before Jordan’s flashing her a grin of his own as he finally scoops her up into his arms, making her squeal and giggle as she wraps her legs around his waist and it’s just like how she imagined it to go.
Lydia kisses him all the way up to his room, kisses him as he lays her down on his bed and hovers over her, kisses him as her blouse and his shirt are tossed aside, kisses him even when his sly fingers easily slide her leather mini down her hips. And she thinks, when he’s finally inside her, filling her up and snapping his hips up against hers, that she’s definitely going to have to start taking more tips from Malia from now on.
Thank god for chemosignals.