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Colt doesn't move or breathe while Jody talks to Gail. Their half-made plans would fail if anyone knew he was alive and well and sitting in Jody's bed.
Her bed, which smelled like her even through the stupid helmet, was making Colt absolutely insane. One kiss was enough to set him on edge like he'd been electrocuted. Again. Or set on fire. Again.
Gail finally leaves. Jody very pointedly locks the door, the signal that Colt can come out of her room.
"You’re gonna finish the movie," Colt exclaims, his voice robotic through the mask.
"No, I’m gonna clear your name. Okay, now listen."
Colt takes off the mask and asks, "Why can’t we do both?"
"I think we can. We’re gonna bring him to set, in a controlled environment, and then we surround him…"
"And we beat the shit out of him," Colt finishes for her, already seeing it in his head.
"No. We’re gonna force a confession out of him by putting him in a scene."
"Right."
"You know, he always forgets he’s mic’d. I just don’t know how to do it yet." Jody pauses to think.
Colt exhales, looking at the model of the car jump. He fiddles with the little car on the stick. "I know how to do that." He pauses. "Make him do his own stunt."
"The impossible jump!"
"Then we beat the shit out of him," Colt says again, with even more emphasis.
"We'll have to get you to the car first—-" she is cut off by Colt's mouth on hers. He's gotten the gloves off and cradles her face in his hands.
He pulls back, eyes wide. "Sorry, I just—"
She pulls him right back in, and she can feel him melt against her, even with the ridiculous costume on.
Jody has been strong. She has been profesh. She has watched one of the most beautiful men on Earth put himself in harms way for her for days. But even the strongest person can be worn down eventually, and Colt's perfect, stupid mouth on hers, after everything that's happened, is just too damn much.
He backs her up to the monitor station, not breaking the kiss. He can barely feel her because of all the plastic he has on.
"Get this blasted costume off of you," she says, and there is a multi-minute, frustrating pause as she has to help Colt out of it. Underneath, he's wearing jeans and very dirty tank top, all of which are a little damp to the touch.
"You came straight here? After the—"
"Of course," he says, like it's nothing. Like he hadn't almost been killed, like he hadn't narrowly escaped a fiery crash. "How could I n-"
Jody cuts him off this time, pulling him into the v of her legs as she hops up to sit on the monitor counter, surprising him into silence and then kissing him to make sure it continues.
Colt's got his hands on her hips, thumbs going under her shirt and stopping.
"Are you—" he says into her mouth, pulling away the least amount he can to speak. "Are we—"
"Colt Seavers, if you do not fuck me on this monitor station before we risk our lives to clear your name, I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your life."
Colt might white out. He wonders briefly if he has legs still as he sucks in a breath at Jody's words. Instead of vocalizing his concerns about his legs going missing, he just pulls his tank top off, steps out of his shoes, and gets back to kissing Jody like his entire life depends on it.
And it does.
Jody runs her hands over his chest and shoulders, torn between wanting to check for wounds and how abominably perfect he is. Colt gets his hand under her shirt, and she leans back to take it off, throwing it somewhere behind them in the trailer.
Colt lets out a quiet groan at the sight of her, and Jody puts a hand over his mouth. "Also, this is a Target sports bra," she says. Colt takes the moment to lick her palm as sensually as he possibly can, but all that does is tickle her, and they spent a few non-sexy seconds giggling before Colt's body makes a decision for him, and he drops to his knees in front of her.
Jody watches him sink down and feels her stomach clench. The laundry girl is going to be very confused the next day, between Colt's damp, fire-burned clothes and her absolutely ruined underwear.
Colt looks up at her, patient as a tiger. "Can I?" he asks, simple, like it doesn't make her head spin.
Jody has her zip down before her brain catches up, lifts herself to get them over her ass, and then rips one leg off over her shoe so the denim is hanging off of her other foot. She shakes her leg, hard, trying to dislodge them where they're stuck.
Colt grins, one eyebrow cocked, and he gently takes the jeans from where they are stuck and puts them on the floor. He then takes her shoes off before re-centering himself in his proper place.
Colt looks up at her. "Are those.. chickens?"
Jody looks down. Not thinking anyone would see them, she'd grabbed the first pair of underwear she'd felt in the drawer that morning, and yes, they did have chickens on them. "But no cocks," she adds, deadpan.
Colt snorts, but when he traces his index finger over the soaked cotton, Jody hisses, and he lets a slow, feral sort of smile come over his face.
"Maybe later," he says, quietly, and then adds, "Only if you want."
Before she can answer, he takes hold of the elastic band and tugs, urging Jody to move so he can get closer. She smells like heaven, like her bed, and Colt's mouth is watering. He wants to feast.
Jody obliges, and together they get the chickens off one leg and onto the floor with her jeans.
Colt takes the moment to add his own jeans to the pile, holding back a noise when the buttons are no longer constricting him. He feels a wet spot of his own on his boxers, but when he looks back up at Jody, who is reaching a hand out to him to pull him in, he could not care less.
He takes her hand and shuffles closer on his knees. Eyes closed, he kisses each of her fingers and then up her thigh, using his other hand to softly, softly caress her, up and down, tracing her clit and over her folds, biting back a groan at how wet and perfect she feels. The inhale she makes goes straight to his dick.
Colt turns from her thigh and looks up at her, where Jody locks eyes with him and shivers, nodding. He releases her hand, and it goes straight into his hair, the other holding herself still on the shelf.
It's a been a while. It's been since the last time Jody and him had fooled around on set, hours before the "accident."
He's about to say something, transfixed on her, when Jody lets go of his hair and circles her own clit, right in front of him, and says, "Colt, don't make me get started without you." And that's trigger enough.
He doesn't have to bend down, and so when he buries his faces against her, kissing where her hand pulls away and licking through her folds to lap up all her sweetness, his back doesn't even twinge.
Jody shudders, legs coming tight on his shoulders, and she grabs his hair as he sucks on her clit, her hips bucking up. Colt just groans when she yanks, and she can feel the vibrations of his sounds on her skin.
Colt runs a finger around the space between her majora and minora, and Jody bucks again.
"Please," she says, strained, and Colt slides the finger into her, redoubling his kisses and licks on her clit, feeling every movement of her hips and every clench as she bucks against his tongue.
"Fuck, Colt-" The shelf shakes a little from her movements. Jody meets his every move, climax looming like the thunder that comes after lightning. Her eyes shut, and she only feels Colt, and pleasure, and the cold surface of the counter beneath her.
He slides his middle finger next to his index and scissors inside her, his stubble scraping a little against her clit as he licks again and again, and somewhere between all the sensations, the thunder rolls.
Colt feels her go tense and so tight around his fingers that he is momentarily worried he'll break one, but he doesn't let up on her clit until he hears her moan and then moan an octave higher, pushing her hips against his face and riding his tongue until she shudders and slows.
Colt pants. He's so hard, he thinks he could break his own dick off and pummel Ryder with it like a steel bar. But nothing matters except letting Jody come down gently, letting her thigh muscles twitch beneath his caressing hands. He licks her off of his fingers and makes a noise in the back of his throat.
Jody's eyes open at the sound, her brain absolutely silent and her body thrumming like a guitar string. Colt is still on his knees, his mouth and stubble glossy from his efforts. She can see he's hard, his black boxers tented, but he hasn't moved to do anything about it all. He's waiting for her. Sucking her off of his fingers like he hasn't eaten a thing in days.
It's so hot she can barely breathe.
"Up," she says, and he does it, and Jody feels herself clench around nothing as he moves closer. Colt thumbs over her nipples, and she jerks, feeling that in her center as well.
"Good?" he asks. They're at eye level like this, and Colt can see how flushed she is. He trails a finger over her neck and collar bone, feeling the sweat, and licks his finger.
A woman can only take so much. Jody grabs his head and pulls him in for a thorough kissing, and her left heel pushes against his hip to bring him closer.
Colt's arms go around around her, and he's kissing her with everything he's got, every movement of their tongues making him throb. He's so distracted by Jody's mouth and tongue he doesn't feel her toes get the waistband of his boxers and pull them down until he feels the cool air on the wet head of his dick.
"Shit, Jody," he says, and she's grinning as he steps out of the boxers and then closer to her, never letting go of her upper body.
She wraps her legs around his hips and draws him in.
When he feels the heat of her on his cock, Colt groans and has to put his face into her shoulder. He can't help but rut a little against her, and Jody sighs and presses forward, grinding on him.
Colt's legs shake. He isn't sure if he's breathing. Every centers itself on where they are touching, heat on heat. He's going to die. Death by perfect vagina, he can see it like a news headline.
Jody shudders and spreads her legs a little more, keeping them up on Colt's hips but allowing more access. She reaches a hand down and strokes him top to bottom, and again, and she feels the way Colt bucks into her hand like a bolt from her thigh to her clit.
He's whispering under his breath as she touches him. He's also kissing her neck and shoulder when he takes a breath, and Jody has to really listen to hear that it's just the work "fuck" over and over and over.
Jody releases him, kisses him hard, and tightens her legs, pulling him in even closer. They slide over each other, Colt's dick rubbing her clit and making her shiver.
Colt makes a strained noise. "Jody, please," he says, stopping his litany of curse words very briefly.
"Come on then," she answers, and she reaches down to guide him, almost angry he has to back up a little bit and lose contact with her to accept the help.
But then he sinks in, and in, and she's locked around him with legs and arms, making muffled sounds into his shoulder as he presses to the limit, his thighs hitting the shelf below her.
Colt decides that he did die in the boat crash, and this is Heaven, pressed as deep as he can go into Jody, wrapped up in the tight, wet perfection of her. He heaves a breath, and another, and asks her, "Can I move?"
Jody feels herself clench hard around him, and brokenly she answers, "Fuck yes."
Colt obeys. He slides halfway out and back in again, rattling the shelf, and Jody kisses him as he picks up the pace, his hands on her hips, pulling her close as he can.
Her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips, Jody holds onto Colt and savors his every movement. He's thick and perfect inside her, and she matches his thrusts with her hips, getting a touch on her clit with every motion. It's not enough to push her over the edge again, but Colt is back on his litany of fucks with her name interspersed between them and she can't seem to care that much.
Colt knows what it's like to be set on fire. Everywhere he and Jody touch feels like flames, and he is lost. He's saying words, he doesn't know what they are—everything is Jody's skin, and breath, and movement, and the way they fit together, the heat of her center, the taste of her still on his tongue, her kisses between her noises as they move together.
It's too much, it will never be enough.
From a distant part of his mind, the thought that she needs to come again manages to make itself heard. The main, completely lost part of Colt's brain agrees, and he frees an arm so he can get his fingers on her clit.
Jody sees his hand move—sees him pull out, pause mid thrust to slide his fingers through the slick clinging to his dick, and then start back up again, drenched fingers circling her clit.
"Fuck," she says under breath, her hips moving to meet his thrusts and his fingers. She's kissing him, nipping his lips as he says her name. Her shelf perch shakes, her thighs shake, and she can feel another orgasm climbing her spine, pleasure spreading from everywhere they are touching.
Colt feels her tighten around him and moans, barely keeping his volume down and wishing like hell they didn't have to anything but this for the rest of their fucking lives. He's going to break from the weight of how good he feels, how perfect Jody is, but he doesn't want to until he knows she's gotten off again.
Between them, pleasure ratchets higher and higher. Colt's fingers never stop, and Jody squeezes him with her thighs and arms, biting back a scream as he thrusts again and she meets him, meets his fingers as they suddenly circle the other direction, and the noise transmutes in her mouth as she comes, throbbing and shuddering everywhere, and bites him on the shoulder, letting the half words get absorbed by his skin.
Colt echoes her noise, bass low, and the pain of her bite is enough of a difference in sensation that he falls over the edge right after her, pushing into her with a snap of his hips and pulsing deep, his arm tightening around her hips and keeping her right there as she clenches around him and he trembles, thighs threatening to give out under him as his peak spreads out into his entire body.
The only sound in the trailer then is their heavy breathing. Colt might say her name, she might say his. Colt thinks he may have forgotten that any other words exist.
Jody kisses where she bit him, then kisses his lips. He holds her tight, and they kiss until Jody starts to squirm a little from sitting on the (now wet) shelf.
Colt moves his arms down to her ass and picks her up, still buried in her, still kissing her, and Jody half-yelps, half-moans, hands in his hair. "Too bad this isn't going to be in the movie," she says against his mouth as he carries her to the little couch close by, where he spied a towel.
"Maybe the sequel," Colt says, kissing her once more before using his legs to half-squat and lay her on the towel, making a noise as she slides off of him.
Jody stares at up at him, and although she doesn't ask, he kneels before her again so they are eye to eye.
"You're so beautiful," Colt says, kissing her once. "We are going to do more of that to celebrate when we beat the shit out of Ryder. Right?"
"Fuck yes," Jody says, touching his face. "Now let's go beat the shit out of him."