Title: some days stay gold forever [M]
Description: tag: frank!
Norah Rosenburg - January 25, 2012 05:13 AM (GMT)
January 10, 2012Norah
was not having the best of days. First of all, her shift had extended past her regular hours since one particular patient had been adamant about having Norah by his side while his blood was being drawn for some tests. Did Norah look comforting today? She tended to say no, since she felt frazzled and nervous and was getting a little snappy. Maybe her period was due soon, because normally, she wasn't this all over the place when it came to her emotions. Or it could have to do with the giant pink elephant in the room which was screaming at Norah and calling her a home wrecker. She was pretty sure that half the town thought she was some kind of whore who took pleasure in breaking up happy marriages. But then again, Norah had escaped relatively unscathed in the vicious rumors that had started circulating town when Frank and whatsherface got divorced. By some accounts, she had been called a MILF, which she took slight offense to. She had never given birth to any child, and even though she was curvy...did she look like she had borne any children recently?
Getting to her apartment, Norah barely had time to change out of her scrubs before six thirty rang around, and Frank came over to return her purse. In the midst of her homewrecking, she had somehow forgotten her purse at the bar. Putting the kettle on her stovetop, Norah perched on the counter, waiting for the water to boil so she could make a cup of tea, and calm down a little bit. She wasn't a nervous person by nature - by nature she was calm. Almost too calm, if you asked the right people. Her leg shaking up and down as she stared at the clock, Norah wondered if Frank was on his way, or if he was just going to give it to her another time. She had pretty much demanded he come over at six thirty anyways. What if he had something planned and couldn't make it? Hearing the whistle of the kettle, Norah instantly set about grabbing her tea, and her cup, to distract herself from the ticking of her clock which now sounded like a funeral bell. "Quick and painless. Avoid talking about the kiss, and you'll be fine Norah. He probably forgot about you throwing yourself at him - of course he did. It really wasn't that memorable, if you think about it."
Norah mumbled to herself, as she took a sip of her hot tea, and cursing as it burned her tongue. Shit, she hated that. She wouldn't be able to taste anything now. In the midst of her cursing, she heard a knock at her door and froze. Moment of truth. Setting her tea cup onto her kitchen table, she wandered over to the door, opening it. "Heya Frank."
she greeted, her voice a little too cheery to be genuine.
Frank McCabe - January 27, 2012 04:11 AM (GMT)
Frank could do this. He could. It wasn't like he was some dumb kid, still wet behind the ears, who'd barely even spoken to women before. He'd been married twice now--though he wasn't really all that keen to count the second time, given how short the marriage had been and the clusterfuck that surrounded its ending--and he had three grown daughters. He had scores of female friends, acquaintances, and coworkers. And really, that's all Norah was, right? Just one of his peers. He was a paramedic; she was an RN. That's it. They'd seen each other literally dozens of times during her time in Evergreen.
Except that's not all she was. She was also the woman who Frank had kissed so hungrily, who he'd pressed against the wall, who he'd wanted, God help him, the way he hadn't wanted anyone since his Claudia's death. She was the cause of his divorce--well, no, that wasn't fair, and he couldn't pin it on her, since he'd been unhappy with Mackenna from the very beginning. But she'd been the catalyst that led to the divorce, mercifully ending it before Mackenna could get any further invested, and showing Frank just how much he wasn't as separated from his emotions and his physical needs, no matter what he thought.
And now he was stood outside her door, her purse in his hands, and rubbing at his lightly-bearded chin in an attempt to calm himself down. It was just Norah. Just the first woman he'd kissed like that since his wife's death. Just the woman he hadn't been able to get out of his head since. No big deal. Right?
She answered a bare few seconds after his knock, but it seemed like eons. Her greeting threw him for a loop; that... did not sound natural. He knew Norah well enough to know that she wasn't the sunshiney kind of person (she was a realist, like him, with a fantastic edge of sardonic wit that he
loved appreciated greatly), and that was far too sunshiney. "Uh... hey, Norah. I brought your... purse," he said a little lamely, offering it to her without making a move towards the door. He didn't want to intrude.
Lord. He might not have been a teenage boy, but he sure felt like one for the first time in decades.
Norah Rosenburg - February 1, 2012 04:04 AM (GMT)
Norah was a confrontational person. Really, she'd rather get things out into the open, instead of sitting on her thoughts until they drove her crazy. But for some reason, the little speech that she had prepared for this situation had just withered away, much like her courage. So in an attempt to mask her insecurity, she pasted on a fake smile at Frank. If anything, he looked more awkward than she did, not moving his feet from their spot on the floor, as he held out her purse for her. It was kind of funny, how they each were dealing with the giant elephant in the room. Norah, who was known for her sarcasm was acting like she was in a beauty pageant, and Frank, whom Norah had never known not to have a snarky comment ready, seemed at loss for words. It was like the world had imploded, and now Norah was trying to figure out how she was supposed to act. "Thanks! I realized I had forgotten it when I had gotten home, and it was late so I figured I'd just go in the morning and pick it up, but luckily, you picked it up, so it all worked out!" Oh god, her cheeks hurt from trying to keep her kind of creepy, happy smile. Realizing that Frank was still holding the purse out to her, she took it from him, taking a step back into her apartment.
What now? Technically, their exchange was over. Frank could walk away, and Norah could shut the door, and everything would be fine. In fact, that would probably be the socially acceptable thing to do. What was the point in lingering? "Do you want to come in? I made tea." Norah offered, realizing just how lame her offer was. He probably had better things to do, and now, she had put them both into an awkward situation. He would have to turn her down, and then Norah would have to brush it off, because really, it wasn't a big deal. "We could...talk?" She tacked on, a little late. Come on Norah, it was time to man up! She hadn't been raised to be all quiet, and submissive, and why was she letting this situation get to her?
"I have cookies." she added on, smiling at Frank again, except this time, it was more natural, and not all the smile she had on before. This one warmed her eyes too, instead of distracting you with how big she could stretch her face.
Frank McCabe - February 10, 2012 02:00 AM (GMT)
No, Frank wasn't going to allow this to become awkward; he'd decided that before he even left his house for Norah's apartment. Of course, making that decision and actually fulfilling it were two totally different things, and he was having more than a little trouble with the latter. It didn't help matters that now that he was here and actually looking Norah in the face, he was struck once again by how damn pretty she was. Seriously not helping.
Part of him wanted to run away when Norah suggested that he come in for tea--and, as she added after, cookies--but he knew that she was right when she said they could talk; really, they should talk. They needed to. At least, Frank needed to apologize like a grown man instead of avoiding Norah around town like a scared schoolboy. "You know I can't resist cookies," he said somberly, before giving her a little smile and stepping inside past her, which necessitated a very near brush of their bodies that set his every nerve on full alert. No no no no keep it cool, old man, you're just going to have a calm little talk about what happened and then go back home to live out the rest of your pathetic life. Jesuschrist.
He turned to look at her once he was inside and safely past her, and for a moment considered pretending that the whole thing had just... never happened. But that wasn't how mature adults handled their problems, or so he'd told his daughters--and he wasn't about to make himself a hypocrite now. "I... wanted to apologize for what happened the other night. It was, uh, it was totally inappropriate of me to take advantage of you like that, especially considering, well..." The fact that he was married. But that one could remain unsaid, at least for now. "I'm glad whoever started that rumor didn't recognize you. I just... wanted you to know how sorry I am for behaving so badly."
Except he really wasn't sorry for kissing her. Only for the facts that now they were awkwardly avoiding each other and he'd come close to dragging Norah's name through the mud. The rest of it... no, he really wasn't sorry for that, no matter how much he insisted he was.
Norah Rosenburg - February 21, 2012 06:46 PM (GMT)
Norah couldn't help but smile when Frank agreed to come in for a few minutes. At least now they'd be able to get everything out into the open, so they didn't have to tip toe around every damn issue. Norah was sick of everything she said sounding like a double-entendre. Taking a step back to let Frank in, Norah definitely felt the little bit of spark between them, as their bodies got near to one another. Fuck. Well, at least now she knew that she was going to have to keep a little bit of distance between her and Frank, because otherwise, she was going to want to
jump him do things that would be better left...undone. Taking her time, and closing the door, Norah wandered over to the kitchen, only too aware that her hair was falling out of it's bun, and that she looked like a mess. Which was ridiculous, because why should she care? Frank coming over did not mean that she needed to worry about what she was wearing, or what she looked like. He had seen her at worst, during particularly stressful shifts, when she looked like she was permanently frazzled. It struck her that this was the first time she had had a man in her apartment in over a year. How sad was that? You need to get out more, girl.
Stretching on her tiptoes, Norah reached for a plate, and the cookies. Why did she have such high cabinets in her kitchen? It was clearly made for giants. Putting some cookies on the plate, rather messily, she grabbed a mug from another cabinet. Now those were at arm's height - the perfect height, since she drank tea or coffee every morning in an attempt to get her brain working. "Do you take milk? Or sugar?" she asked, turning to look at Frank, as he opened his mouth to start talking. And there it was, their entire situation, laid out. Norah was a little offended that he was able to brush off their encounter like that, and put all the blame on himself. Why was he being so nice? There was nothing to apologise for. Just a need for a general agreement to forget it happened, and to get rid of the awkwardness. But instead of saying that, Norah instead blurted out the first words out of her head.
"You didn't take advantage of me. I am just as responsible." Oh it was sad now, how much Norah wanted Frank to blame her too. Taking a sip of her now lukewarm tea, Norah leaned against her kitchen counter. "Don't be sorry about the rumor...people talk, and there's nothing you can do about it. Besides, I'm more offended at the fact that people thought I was forty, than being involved at all." Was she ashamed that she had broken up a marriage? Yes. But the actual act of kissing Frank? Well, she wasn't ashamed of that. Pushing the milk, sugar and cookies at Frank, Norah waited for him to respond. This was good, they were talking! Like real adults!
Frank McCabe - February 23, 2012 04:16 AM (GMT)
Frank lingered near the door as Norah closed it, then watched her head towards the kitchen for a few moments before making to follow her. There was something so undeniably
sexy appealing about a woman dressed casually and comfortably, her hair falling out; he'd always been a fan of the way women looked when they didn't try. Not that the nice clothes and the makeup and the hairdos didn't end up looking fantastic--just that... Frank was a pretty simple, casual guy, and he generally preferred his ladies the same way. In any event, Norah was not making it easy to keep his eye on the ball, not when all he could think about was the taste of her lips, and wanting to pull her hair out of that bun and run his fingers through it.
He followed her, grateful that he'd never been the sort of man to blush, or else his thoughts might have been given away. Of course, the way she stretched for a plate--well, try as he might, Frank was still a man, and men have tastes and needs, and Norah's jeans did fit her pretty damn perfectly. He cleared his throat, looking elsewhere, as she put the cookies on a plate. "Oh, uh, just sugar's fine, thanks."
Norah's reaction was... what? What he'd expected? Not what he'd expected? He really wasn't sure. She seemed so collected about it, so mature, that it made him feel like an awkward teenage boy with all these--feelings--roiling around inside him. Of course, mostly what he was feeling was that he should kiss her again... but that wouldn't do at all. He'd come here to make amends, not to make things worse.
So, leaning against the counter, he stirred a spoonful of sugar into his own tea, chuckling a little at her comment about being offended. "Don't know who the hell they were looking at... you don't look like you could be a day over thirty, tops." Which really just served to remind him that he wasn't totally sure of her age to begin with--but now really wasn't the time to be asking about that. He took a sip of his tea, which he'd oversweetened, before glancing up at the brunette. "And, uh. I wanted to make sure you didn't... blame yourself for what happened with me and Mackenna." This wasn't awkward at all, was it? "It was never going to last in the first place. Contract or not, I never should've married that poor girl."
He never should've gotten involved with anyone again after Claudia's death, but here he'd gone and gotten tangled up with two different women in the space of a month or so--one he'd married and then divorced, and the other he'd... well, whose hair he wanted to run his fingers through.
Norah Rosenburg - March 27, 2012 02:42 AM (GMT)
Dear god, if only Frank knew how unmature Norah was feeling. She felt like a teenage girl again, except now she had boobs. What she really wanted to do was to kiss Frank and to see where that night at the bar might have ended. But that would completely irresponsible, and if there was one thing that Norah was, it was level headed and responsible. So she leaned against the kitchen counter, angling her body away from Frank - which was kind of hard. It felt like her kitchen had shrunk, and that she was standing uncomfortably close to him, when in reality, they were only about an arms length away from each other. This was so confusing. Norah felt like hitting her head against the wall. Was that why he was here? To make sure that she wasn't beating herself up over breaking up his marriage? Well, Norah could be selfless, and you know what? Even if she had been blaming herself on the ending of Frank's
completely ridiculous sham marriage, she would blame some of it on him. It wasn't like he had been a robot or pushed her away or anything.
"Well I'll take thirty. Not quite there yet, but I'll take what I can get." Norah remarked dryly, to Frank's comment about her age. It hit her that she had no idea how old he was. He was older than her, but couldn't be by that much? He had three grown up daughters. He had to be at least forty, which was only eleven years older than her. Not a big deal at all. But still, Frank came with a lot of baggage. Baggage that Norah wasn't sure she could handle. Not that she would have to handle anything, because they were two friends having some tea. Nothing more, nothing less. To assume otherwise was just...stupid. "I hadn't given much thought to it actually." Norah replied, only being half honest. Sure she had thought about it. But she had refused to dwell on it. "But I guess that's how much of a homewrecking whore that I am. No remorse." she joked lightly, to Frank, stopping when he proclaimed that he shouldn't have married Mackenna in the first place.
"You're a man of your word Frank. Sometimes things don't work out. If you were unhappy in your...marriage then I'm glad that I could..help work it out in some way." Norah supplied, her eyes moving up to meet Frank's. "We are friends, after all, right?" God, meeting his eyes was a bad decision. He had great eyes. And face. And hands. Those hands, which had only a few short days ago, been on her body. Feeling the heat rising up from her neck to her cheeks, she coughed a little bit, and turned towards her kitchen sink to spill out her now cold and rather gross tea. Get a grip, Norah.
Frank McCabe - March 30, 2012 11:26 PM (GMT)
So Norah wasn't thirty yet. All right, that was... well, not really what he'd wanted to hear. Not that age mattered that much--right? At least, she had to be a fair bit older than his daughters. She just had more maturity than most twenty-somethings; it was impossible for him to think of her as being out of his age zone. All those conversations, their banter... he'd been talking to a peer, not to someone his daughters' age.
Her next words rocked his train of thought right off its tracks and in an entirely different direction. First there came a cold hard nugget of disappointment in his throat, somewhere between his clavicles--she hadn't thought much about it at all. Right, so that meant... what? It hadn't meant anything to her. That was a good thing. It had to be a good thing, and yet here he was, feeling disappointed, like the twelve-year-old he apparently was. Jesus Christ, Frank, pull yourself together. But before he could even pursue that any further--or rather, deny it any further--there came a swift punch of anger. 'Homewrecking whore,' she called herself. His lips pursed a little, his heavy eyebrows lowering over his dark eyes in a stormy expression.
He took in a few breaths through his nostrils, watching her turn away from him and towards the sink. "Yeah," he said finally, following her almost involuntarily across the kitchen and coming to a stop a little more than an arm's length behind her. Her hair fell across the back of her head and over her shoulder blades in patterns that were suddenly the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen--fuck. If only he could unstick his tongue. For a moment there was quiet, before he was able to speak again, having gotten his words in order.
"You are not some 'homewrecking whore,' Norah, and don't you ever goddamn say that again, you hear me?" he said, his voice still low in volume but a little rough in tone; he never had been all that good at expressing himself. "There was no home to wreck, and I'm a big man. If I hadn't wanted that kiss to happen, you would've had to knock me out with a tranquilizer dart to force it. And if anyone says anything otherwise to you, or--calls you anything, you tell them to take it up with me, because you're my friend."
He couldn't explain the significance of the emphasis on the second-to-last word; he only knew it came out that way naturally, and that he wanted her to turn around so he could look at her eyes. Only to make sure she understood what he was saying, of course; just that, and nothing more. Nothing.
Norah Rosenburg - April 9, 2012 09:36 PM (GMT)
Age. Oh god, that had been the reason that she had run out on her first match. He had been a fetus. Twenty-one years old. Barely legal. It had been that moment of panic that had made her run away with her tail between her legs. She had always been more comfortable around people who were older than her - wasn't that normal? If you were super comfortable hanging around people who were younger than you, that probably wasn't exactly healthy. Besides, what were her and Ben supposed to talk about? He was still in school for chrissakes. Was she supposed to support him through it? Because she could barely keep paying off her student loans with her salary as it was. Her serious thoughts mirrored the serious expression on Frank's face, as he followed her across the kitchen, stopping close enough that if she extended her arm, she'd be able to touch him. Not that she could see him there, since she was facing the sink, but still. She could feel his presence behind her, and more than anything, it shook her a little that she would respond so quickly to him being so close to her. Drawing in an involuntary breath, Norah listened as he delivered his speech about how she shouldn't call herself that. Apparently, her sense of humor hadn't appealed to him that one statement, and she paused, before saying anything. It didn't seem like sarcasm would be appreciated in this situation. It didn't seem like any words would be appreciated. Norah made the mistake of turning around to look at him as he finished his little spiel, and instantly knew that she would've been safer if she had stayed facing away.
Goddamnit. He wasn't even in her personal space, and Norah felt like she couldn't breathe with the way he was looking at her. With the way that he had said that she was 'his'. She chose to ignore the word 'friend', and instead focused on how he had said she was his. Her eyes closed for a second, and she was back at the bar. This was exactly how she had felt when they had been at the bar and they had kissed. And this was without any alcohol in her system. "So, you wanted the kiss to happen, is what I'm getting from that speech." she finally said, the stupidest thing to cross her mind. Couldn't she just have agreed with him, and sent him on his merry way?
This wasn't the relationship she had agreed to! She had agreed to bets, and the occasional snarky commentary from Frank. But for some reason, going back to just those coffee bets and comments that they made when they were passing each other at the practice wasn't enough. She had been fooling herself before he had came, when she had thought that she could move past whatever had happened between them. "What if I said I wanted it to happen too? Where would we stand then?" she asked, her forehead creasing with a frown. Her hands were held a little stiffly on her sides, and she stopped herself from pulling him towards her and kissing him. They were going to talk this out before anything happened. If anything happened.
It probably wouldn't, right? Because Frank was capable of being more rational than she was. And rationality was telling her to walk away while she could. Now if only her feet would listen.
Frank McCabe - April 11, 2012 01:18 AM (GMT)
Was it just Frank's imagination, or was the air between their bodies somehow... thicker than the air elsewhere in the kitchen? Almost like it was fraught with electromagnetic energy, like her hair should be standing on end from the static -- it was a bizarre feeling, and one that he hadn't felt in a long time. Well... at least, not sober. He'd always been aware, intellectually, that his friend (that's all she was, after all) was an attractive young woman. How could he deny it? He'd be lying if he said she didn't remind him a little bit of his own beloved late wife. In those brief moments between when Norah turned around to face him and when she spoke, though, it wasn't Claudia he was thinking about -- in fact, there wasn't much conscious thought going on at all. He was too busy trying to catch a breath of that thick, desire-laden air.
Of course, when she spoke, he knew that he'd been caught out -- that yes, he had wanted that kiss, and now she knew it. There was no way to deny it now; he could only own his feelings, try to face them head on, and deal with the consequences of them. So instead, after a moment, he just said, "Yeah. Yes, that's what I'm saying. I wanted that kiss."
What she said next certainly implied that she'd wanted the kiss too, even if she'd phrased it so that she wasn't quite outright saying that was the case. Still, Frank was surprised by the jolt of energy that shot through his nerves at her hypothetical, and for a long few moments after she'd finished speaking, his dark eyes searched hers. All he could think to do was to pick her up, to set her on the counter, and to pick up that question where they'd left off in the bar -- but he had to be mature about this, right? They were friends. He didn't want to risk their friendship just because he hadn't gotten laid in years.
His body didn't seem to be under conscious control from his brain anymore, though; instead of answering he stepped closer, backing Norah against the kitchen counter and resting a hand on it, off to one side, so that he was leaned in towards her a little. "Then I think we'd be standing right about here," he said, an unusual huskiness come into his voice.
Norah Rosenburg - April 13, 2012 01:05 AM (GMT)
Okay. Norah couldn't deny it anymore. It would be ridiculous. She wanted Frank. Badly. And from the way he was looking at her, Norah would bet her right boob that he felt the same way at this moment. And there was absolutely no use in expecting her brain to be rational when it came to a man that she liked. Especially when she hadn't had sex for at least a year. The last guy she had slept with, she had met him at a friend's house warming and they had went on the requisite three dates, and then had sex. To be honest, it hadn't been great, and after a few more dates, Norah had called it quits with him. And besides, he had lived in Indianapolis, and what with her being on call a good chunk of the time - it didn't make sense. But right now wasn't a time to be thinking about her past sexual partners. Especially not when Frank was looking at her like that, and the moments were stretching out so that she wasn't sure if it had been an awkward pause or not a pause at all. If there had been any doubt of how Frank was feeling at that moment, Norah felt them slide away, as he admitted that he had wanted that kiss. Well, now that that had been cleared out of the way, Norah felt a lot more comfortable with this.
Which wasn't saying much, since she felt like squirming under his gaze. But it was a good kind of uncomfortable. The kind that made you breath a little harder. God, beating around the bush was not making this any easier. Norah felt like she had to continue with the whole bantering thing that they had going on. Maybe she was misconstruing what everything meant and was just being crazy. Maybe she was just crazy. Probably. But Frank seemed determined to put all her doubts at rest, as she found herself backing up against the counter, as Frank moved forward a little bit, his voice carrying a lot more meaning than his actual words. Goddamnit, if he was playing some kind of sick game with her....it was working.
"Really now?" she asked, finding it difficult to find her voice. Come on now, where was all that charm and wit, that she knew she had?
Her eyes flashed violet with lust. Gone. "I don't know about that, I'd say we were about here." she said decisively, taking a small step forward, so that if he even shifted forward, they would be touching. "God Frank, if this is a joke, or something, tell me now, before I jump you." The words escaped her lips before she could think, and she paused. Well, she sounded batshit crazy now. Oh well, she had gave him an out, if he wanted it. He could just back away, and say that it was a mistake. Dear god, she didn't know what she'd do if he did.
Frank McCabe - April 19, 2012 12:22 AM (GMT)
Frank wasn't actually considering doing this, was he? Short answer--yes. Long answer--...yes. He knew that no matter how far things went with Norah that night, he was about to make a big decision, a big step away from where he'd been for the last five years and odd months. But to be perfectly honest, at the moment the blood was draining down and away from his brain; as far as he was concerned, he would consider the repercussions later, and give in to his instincts now. Especially since Norah was looking at him with those large, somehow world-weary, so-much-older-than-her-age dark eyes. He couldn't resist those eyes, god help him.
Impulsiveness wasn't exactly Frank's identifying characteristic, but that didn't mean that he couldn't, when the occasion called for it, throw his hands up and give in to the whims of fate. Or, you know, his own sex drive. He might be getting up there, and there might be more than a few silver hairs growing in over his temples, but that didn't mean he wasn't a red-blooded man who, to be quite frank (hehe), hadn't had any company in the bedroom besides his own right hand for far too long.
A low, inarticulate sound rumbled in his throat as she stepped closer to him, nearly close enough that he could feel her body heat. His eyes couldn't help but drop straight down to--the, er, upper... chest part of her body, before he flicked them quickly back up to meet her own dark eyes. The front of his pants was starting to get tight in a way he hadn't felt in what seemed like ages, and when she spoke, he couldn't help but take a step forward to meet her.
"This," he said, his voice low and husky, "is not a joke." The bulk of his body pushed her own back gently against the counter again, their chests and torsos pressed together; a hand slid around behind her to press against her lower back, just above the line of the counter, and hold her body against his. After only a moment more of hesitation Frank ducked his head down and touched his lips to Norah's, with all the tentativeness of purpose of a teenage boy and the sureness of placement of an experienced man. After a heartstoppingly long moment, he pressed his lips against hers with more confidence, pulling her tighter against him.
Norah Rosenburg - May 1, 2012 09:48 PM (GMT)
Norah was well aware of the baggage that came along with Frank. While she was a relative newcomer to Evergreen, she had found out some more about Frank the longer she stayed. He had been here forever, and for the most part, nobody had anything bad to say about him. It was during those conversations that Norah had learned about his wife, and how they were so in love. And then she had passed away, and Frank was left raising three daughters. So yes, she knew that he had baggage. But so did she. An absent baby sister, and a father in long term care at a nursing home? Yeah. Her life wasn't exactly in order either. So rational Norah was ready to take a step back from this, and go back to the way things were, with their little coffee bets, and seeing each other three or four times a week. Rational Norah wanted a lot of things though, and irrational Norah wasn't ready to go down without a fight. Which was why when Frank cornered her at the counter, she didn't look for an escape, but instead curled an arm around his neck, as he leaned in to kiss her, pulling herself closer to him than they already were. It seemed like he had the same idea, as she felt the weight of his hand on her lower back, pulling her in closer.
Oh god, Norah instantly felt her body respond, curving in to his, as he kissed her softly. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the sensation of him taking his time, and seeming nervous. It was a sweet kiss, and Norah smiled a little bit against his lips, before he deepened the kiss. Looping her other arm around Frank, Norah rose a little bit on her tiptoes, kissing Frank back with as much as he was giving, one hand tangling a little bit in his hair as she pulled him closer still. Any closer and they'd be one body, instead of two. Letting out a little purr of pleasure, Norah felt a little blush rise up the back of her neck. She always was a little self conscious about the sounds she made during foreplay, or sex itself.
Angling her head to make kissing a little easier, Norah thanked god that the counter and Frank were keeping her standing up, because she was pretty sure that her legs were going to turn into jelly if they kept up like this. Pulling back for a moment of air, Norah detached herself for a moment from Frank, before hopping on top of the counter in what she hoped was a graceful manner, and pulled him back towards her, before capturing his lips again, and wrapping her legs around his waist. God, he knew what he was doing. While kissing was nice, and everything, (more than nice, really!) Norah felt a little throbbing beginning between her legs, that she hadn't felt for a long time, and she pulled Frank closer to her, as they kissed, her hands roaming everywhere from his back, to his chest, to his neck.
Frank McCabe - May 19, 2012 07:30 PM (GMT)
Frank's brain was no longer in control. Frank's brain had, in fact, put up a 'closed to new business' sign and was snoozing in the back office. This meant that it was not Frank's brain but Frank's body that was calling the shots, and Frank's body wanted exactly one thing: Norah.
Well, all right; that wasn't entirely true. It wanted many, many things. It wanted Norah's mouth, and her tongue, and the taste of her skin, and the taste of her more secret places, and the touch of her hands, and the sound of her gasping for air, and the look on her face when she--
Whoa whoa whoa, Frank's brain interrupted, waking from its nap--an interlude which happened to coincide perfectly with Norah pulling out of the kiss for the moment. What are you--
Norah's legs wrapped around Frank, and she pulled him back in for a kiss.
Frank's brain could not handle this, and his body took over again, and jesuschrist was he glad. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his chest close enough to her body that he could feel the gentle give of her breasts beneath her clothes; he was distinctly aware of the fact that he had an erection, and for the first time in years he couldn't care enough to be embarrassed or try to hide it. Norah's mouth tasted too good for embarrassment to exist any longer in Frank's universe, or so his body decreed.
One of his hands slid up underneath her shirt, his work-roughened fingers exploring the expanse of soft skin. God, she was so warm. He growled a low noise of approbation against her lips and briefly caught her tongue between his teeth, releasing it after half a second and letting his own tongue chase it back into her mouth. Then, daringly, his free hand decided to do a little exploration of its own, and slid up the inside of her thigh to the center of heat between her legs, rubbing with gentle pressure and curiosity and need.
Well, just better hope she doesn't slap you, chimed in Frank's brain before giving up on having any say in the matter at all.
Norah Rosenburg - May 31, 2012 09:22 PM (GMT)
It had been a long long time since Norah had last had another body in her bed, and her body was making her very aware of that fact. In fact, it seemed to have made it it's mission to make every single part of her body extra sensitive. And so when Frank's hands went up underneath her shirt, it took all of her willpower not to simply melt into a puddle of goo beneath his fingers. Because damn, did they feel good. Scooting her body so that she was closer - she wanted every part of him connected to her - Norah's own hands slipped under his shirt, running over his muscled back - hello firefighting! - and shoulders, before they moved over the front of his body. Oh god, her brain was going to shut down or something, because she could barely understand what was happening. Multitasking seemed like it was going to be near impossible. She just wanted to focus all her attention on one part of his body, to feel him wanting her, inside her.
And then the sucker punch to her senses, as his hand slipped between her legs. Instinctively, she opened them wider, her own hands slipping dangerously low on his body. Damn it, the counter had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, she wasn't going to be able to maneouver the way she wanted, so that she could touch him. And more importantly, it was seemed like it might be hampering his efforts to get to her. But oh well, it would have to do for now. Gasping against his lips, her hands fumbled with the bottom of his shirt. At this point, clothes were just going to be a nuisance after all! Pulling his shirt up, she momentarily pulled her lips away from Frank so that he could pull the rest of it off. Taking a moment to just stare at him, Norah felt an easy grin cross her face. Now, he may have been a lot older than her, but those years of firefighting and being an EMT had done him well. Oh god, she was a sucker for those arms of his. "Not bad, McCabe." she teased, the first words that had been spoken since they had started kissing.
Frank McCabe - June 2, 2012 10:17 PM (GMT)
God, the way she responded to his touch sent lightning bolts of electricity skittering down his spine and straight to his groin. His erection was trapped uncomfortably by the heavy denim of his jeans, and part of him wanted nothing more than to free it and act like the human animal he was -- but the last sensible part of his brain that was still getting blood insisted that he at least not act like a total jackass during their first time together (and only time together, it insisted). This was Norah; she didn't deserve that. Hell, she deserved someone a lot better than Frank, but if she was willing -- and even eager -- who was he to say no?
He helped her get his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor, and couldn't help but snort when she complimented him with a smirking "Not bad, McCabe." Not bad for an almost-fifty-year-old man, maybe... he wasn't in terrible shape, but he was well aware of the fact that he was no longer in his prime, and while he had a good deal of muscle, his appreciation of hamburgers and junk food had added some beginner lovehandles. Not to add the most humiliating part -- while his head might still be mostly dark brown, his body hair was most definitely salt and pepper at the absolute best. "You've got shitty taste, Rosenburg," he rumbled in response, before catching her mouth in another quick kiss. A moment later, her shirt joined his on the floor.
God, she was gorgeous. Really gorgeous. One hand settled on her waist, while the other cupped her breast through her bra; a low groan escaped his throat as he gave it a firm little squeeze. Trusting her to draw the line where she wanted it to be, he gave himself over to instincts he'd been ignoring for years; the hand on her breast shifted to free the warm, soft flesh beneath from the fabric that held it. He pushed that strap of her bra down haphazardly, too eager to bother undoing the whole thing yet, and lowered his mouth to the sensitive skin, taking her nipple between his lips and working it gently with tongue and teeth, loving the feeling of it hardening under his attentions. The other hand slipped from her waist to her thigh, massaging, as he lavished her breast with attention, intent on taking his time. After all, a starving man shouldn't binge, or he'd just make himself sick... no, he was going to savor this.