Kathryn wasn’t sure when maturity and duty were blown out the air lock. Was it right around the time they opened that second bottle? The bottle that slowly began to quiet the voice of reason in her head?
Too much cider can truly be a bad thing…
At what point when discussing Chakotay’s teaching Academy days did a wager form between them about who could pin who? Tactical strategies. Winner takes a week of rations. Coffee. Wiping that smug smile from his lips. Coffee. Mouth. Lips. Coffee.
Too much cider…
When did she find herself pinned down on the ground beneath Chakotay? Each of her wrists firmly held in place by his hands beside her head, Chakotay’s mouth inches from hers. Mouth. Lips. Breath. Where the hell was that damn voice of reason?
“Looks like you’re going to have a rough week.”
“Gloating doesn’t suite you Chakotay.”
Definitely too much cider…
Kathryn lifted her head from the floor and lightly grazed Chakotay’s lips with hers. Her tongue traced the fullness of his bottom lip. Someone moaned. Lips parted further. The kiss deepend. Tongues hungrily fighting for dominance. Lips. Mouth. Taste. No Breath.
Too much damn cider…
Wrists were released. Strong hands rested on her burning cheeks. Clearly the voice of reason drowned in the cider, that’s why it wasn’t present. Her hands in Chakotay’s dark hair pulling him closer, as if that was possible. The need to consume him. Maybe that’s what suffocated the voice of reason. Maybe it didn’t drown in the wine. Yes, there it was whispering reason to her. Go away voice.
Not enough cider…
Something in the back of her mind saw a vantage point. He’s distracted. Deliciously distracted. Kathryn shifted, wrapping her legs around his waist and with all of the strength she could muster she pushed against him until he willingly rolled over with her on top. Mouth. Taste. Lips. Tongue. Coffee? Who cares about coffee. Mouth. Lips. Taste. Captain. First Officer. Duty. Taste. Mouth. Voyager. Her hands reaching for his hands which were slowly sliding into her hair. Pinning his wrist to the ground. Mouth. Taste. Need. Captain. Hunger. Don’t stop. First Officer. Don’t want to stop. Have to stop. Can’t have this…yet.
Kathryn reluctantly broke the kiss. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips hiding her regret.
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