Merciless Flirt

She’d raced inside so quickly that she hadn’t noticed Percy milling about in the kitchen. She was halfway up the third floor staircase when it occurred to her that she had seen a figure in the kitchen. But she was soaked, and not just from falling in the pool, so her mind glossed over the detail and proceeded to guide her feet to her room. By the time she’d entered her room most of the water that had been tripping from her body had trailed off somewhere between the back porch and the staircases. And despite the heat of being indoors she was still freezing.



But when his footsteps did not follow close behind her, she began to worry. There was no sound of Charlie racing up the hall to follow her to her bedroom. Nor did there appear to be any wet foot tracks other than her own in the hallway. Her chest tightened; panic swept through her body. What if he had misunderstood? Perhaps her pushing him back into the pool and then running off had made him think she was only a tease and not actually interested. Hermione’s head swam with the endless horrific possibilities.



She doubled her pace as she ran to the third floor landing and glanced out a window that overlooked the backyard. The pool was empty; the lawn void of activity, and Charlie was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he’d apparated back to his flat. Or was conversing with whomever she’d thought she’d seen in the kitchen on her way through. Thoughts whizzed about in her head and she almost didn’t hear the sound of running water coming from her bathroom.



The bathroom wasn’t actually hers of course; it was situated in the hallway just across from her room. But as she was the only one that took residence on that floor she was the only one that ever used that bathroom. Hermione turned around and faced the bathroom door, which was closed except for the bit that was slightly ajar. Steam curled out from between the crack and a puzzled look painted her face.



Caution guided her hand to the door and she pushed it open, stepping inside. The mirror was so fogged with steam that it looked like a painting rather than a reflection. Stretched out on the long towel rack behind the door was a pair of damp blue jeans and a white t shirt. Hung next to them was a pair of still dripping black dragon printed boxer briefs. Her scarlet and gold-starred shower curtain was drawn over the shower and the water was running full blast. Hermione always kept the shower curtain pulled back so that she could see into the shower, on account of the many nasty tricks that the ghoul from the attic and the twins were so often inclined to play on her.



She pushed the bathroom door shut but the sound hardly registered over the rush of the shower. Her feet were tingling against the tile as she took a timid step toward the shower. Again her heart was racing and that dizzying feeling swept over her as she reached for the shower curtain. Should she pull it back? Hermione could only imagine what he looked like naked, though she’d come damn close to seeing him in all his shining glory out at the pool not that long ago. Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she tried to prevent her body from trembling and her knees from giving way. The thought of a naked Charlie Weasley had her sensitive bits tingling with anticipation.



Hermione could feel her breath moving faster, in and out of her lungs in silent pants. The image of his firm, cut torso dripping with hot water, possibly lathered in bubbles, invaded her mind and she could feel trickles of warmth seeping into her knickers. Her rosewood body wash would smell incredible rubbed into his muscles and she had to fight back a moan that rose from somewhere deep in her throat.



“Are you going to join me or what?”



Hermione jumped. Her feet slipped forward and she threw her arm out against the tiled wall to prevent falling. His voice had startled her. “How’d—”



“I heard you come in,” he said, his disembodied voice floating over the shower curtain. “Well, I felt you come in…” he paused for a moment. “You opened the door and a rush of cold air flew in with you. Anyone else would have announced their presence by now.”



She was stunned, and embarrassed to say the least. Her cheeks took on a proper hue of crimson as she fumbled over excuses in her mind. What could she say? She had been standing there fantasizing about him behind her shower curtain.



The curtain drew back and Charlie appeared in the spray of the shower. Without a word he stepped one foot out onto the bathroom floor and took Hermione’s hand. He pulled her back into the shower; and she did not resist, being led forward almost like a ragdoll. He’d mesmerized her; pulling her into the shower despite being fully clothed.



Hot mist fell against her cheek as the majority of the shower spray landed against Charlie’s back. Hermione could not take her eyes from him. His broad shoulders, his torso, and further down to where his manhood jutted out from a thatch of rough auburn curls. She should have been ashamed, staring at him so unabashedly, but none of those emotions seemed to register in her mind. She couldn’t help but lick her lips as she gazed him. Sturdy legs held him up, every inch of him was a delicious treat to her starved eyes.



“Like what you see?” he smirked a bit and leaned closer to her.



His words snapped her from her revelry; the silent party in her mind crashing to a halt with sudden overtones of guilt and embarrassment. Her face flushed and she quickly looked away, unable to gaze into his eyes. As reality tumbled onto her shoulders and she realized she was standing in the shower, still fully clothed, with a very naked Charlie Weasley, she blushed even further practically turning a ripe shade of plum in the cheeks.



One hand dragged the curtain shut; as if to give them further privacy from the on-looking emptiness of the bathroom. Charlie wrapped the other arm around her and pulled her close to his body. She gasped as his hardened length pressed against her thigh. Only in her wildest dreams had she felt his manhood fully erect and touching her— and even now a layer of soaking wet denim separated them.



“I’m still dressed,” she said, shaking her head. She wasn’t sure what she had meant by the comment, whether it had been to merely observe that she’d foolishly entered the shower whilst clothed, or whether it had served as a reminder that he was naked— a state in which she very much wished to be— and she was not; Hermione could not discern. But her hands trembled as she reached forward and touched his bare chest.



“I think we can fix that,” he said. Charlie moved slowly, pressing his lips first against her forehead and then against her temple. Hermione swooned, falling forward into his arms. It was all the trashy romance novels she’d read during the summer— another guilty little pleasure she indulged in— and all the fairytales she’d heard as a child; all of those things combined together to be the sensational feeling that he was causing her. His lips trailed down the side of her cheek and across her jaw until he met her mouth with a warm and welcoming kiss.



Hermione could not help but moan into his mouth. It sounded so dirty, an almost carnal moan escaping her lips; allowing a summer’s worth of pent up tension to flow out of her body and into his. Her fingers were quick to work their way around the back of his neck and tangle in his hair as he pushed her back against the wall of the shower. He’d let his hair grow out, something Hermione had come to like. With his wet red locks tangled between her fingers, Charlie dragged his hands up and down her torso until he had scooped the bottom of her shirt halfway up her chest.



She tilted her head to the side, breaking the kiss, half in bliss half in panic. “What are you doing?”



“Taking your clothes off…” he muttered against her ear as he pulled her shirt up over her head. “If that’s alright with you…” The soaked garment fell to the floor of the shower with a wet smacking sound. Charlie drew the garment slowly up the edge of the shower with his foot until it fell to the floor on the other side of the curtain. “Don’t want them…getting in your way…”



Hermione melted; her body quivering, her legs trembling. His fingers wasted no time in reaching behind her to flick open the clasps on her bra. As the straps fell away from her shoulders she blushed again, not having completely recovered from the first round of tinted cheeks. The pebbled flesh of her nipples stood as erect as his manhood, her breasts sitting up begging to be touched.



He tossed her bra over the shower curtain, leaving it to fall with her discarded shirt. Both hands were on her chest; each cupping a breast, resting there for a moment letting their weight settle in his palms. She could feel her breath coming in ragged gasps. Men had touched her breasts before, but not like this, not the way Charlie Weasley was touching them. There was something familiar and safe about his touch; and in the same sense, something highly erotic. She whimpered when his thumb drew lazy circles around her areola, flicking at her nipples with every other pass.



“You’re…” he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers once more. A kiss ensued, his tongue tangling against hers; her lips eagerly inviting his into the kiss. After a heated moment he pulled back ever so slightly. “It sounds so cliché to say gorgeous, but I can’t think of a better word to describe it…”



Again she blushed, but with each passing moment, she gained confidence in herself. “Are you—”



“Yes?” he cut her off.



Hermione hung her head. “I don’t know where I was going with that…”



“I want you.” He said. It was a blunt statement that Hermione was all too happy to hear, even if it was difficult to believe.



“Right now?” she asked suddenly. After all the mounting tension; the tickles and almost kisses, the touches that weren’t quite there, the glances and the gazes, it was going to happen there in the shower. Her eyes fell closed. She tried to draw in a steady breath but could hardly stand up straight, let alone calm the air in her lungs. Words failed her. It was something that seldom happened to Hermione, except around him, but there was nothing to say. She wanted him and he wanted her. The water was hot, he was naked, and she was nearly there too, what need had she for words?



“If I don’t have you right now,” he said, his own voice dropping an octave in seductive tones, “I’ll go mad…” the harsh whisper of his words sent shivers up her spine and Hermione could hardly breath. She could feel her chest thudding, certain that he could too as they were pressed together. The blood rushing through her ears nearly deafened her, and her mouth was suddenly dry.



“It’ not— not just a fantasy?” the idiotic comment had been blurted from her lips before she could stop it.



Charlie shook his head, pulling her close for another kiss. This one was deeper. He pulled her head back, claiming her mouth, tongue delving into her orifice, lips locked tightly against hers. “Not just a fantasy…” he muttered against her lips. “This is real…and if you don’t get those pants off...”



She’d hardly remembered she was wearing jeans and knickers. Both were soaked through and felt so tight and wet that they were practically a second skin. Her fingers fumbled against the button and the zip, struggling to free herself from the wet denim restraints. Charlie pushed her fingers aside and ripped the front of her jeans, the button popping off and the zipper gliding down with an awkward sound.



Hermione could not complain. Once her jeans had come undone she shimmied out of them, which was difficult because they were so wet. They clung to her skin despite several hip shakes and leg kicks. Her fingers pried at the wet material, rolling it back like dried on paint, and only with the aid of Charlie was she finally able to strip the jeans and her knickers from her body.



She stood before him in the shower in all her naked glory. Her face was flushed but if he noticed, he didn’t make light of it. “I want you,” he repeated.



“I want you,” she said, half hearing his echo and half asserting her desire.



Their lips met once more, her naked body now pressed against his, how water spraying down his back. It was the most intense moment in her life until that point.



Bang! Bang! Bang! The door practically flew open. “Sorry, Hermione!” cried Arthur, as he burst through the bathroom door. “Toilet downstairs is on the fritz, basement toilet is broken, it’s a loo emergency.” He said.

Hermione froze dead in her tracks, nearly falling over in the shower against Charlie.



A/N: And still so close- yet so far away. At least they got nekid together! ;-) PLEASE leave a REVIEW!! ^_^