Katniss notices the older white Bronco on the side of the road as she passes by on I-12. The truck is stranded a little more than halfway between Beeville and Seven Acres. The hood is up and the engine is smoking, but otherwise, it looks abandoned. About a mile up the road, she sees a guy walking in the emergency lane. As she approaches, she detects a slight limp in his stride and notices his head trained on the horizon. She releases her foot off the gas and shifts to a lower gear to close in on him. She runs a finger across the dark strands escaping her braid at her temple and straightens out the hem of her dress.

His white shirt and short blond hair stands out against the forest backdrop, and it looks like he's fisting a dark blue shirt, too. He looks angry, but not dangerous. She figures she'd be a little angry too, if her car had broken down. Hell...it had happened to her before, and a good samaritan had helped her out, so this was her chance to pay it forward. She pulls over in front of him and reaches across the seat to crank down her passenger window.

He approaches the passenger side cautiously and bends over the window, his hands on the window sill. She notices grease under his fingernails and a smattering of freckles across his forearms. Two bright blue eyes meet hers. She takes a deep breath.

She exhales and the corners of her mouth lift. "Hi there, was that your white truck?"

"Yes ma'am, it is. I need a lift to the next town," he replies.

"Well lucky for you, I'm headed that way. Hop on in," she offers with a little grin.

He gives her a tight smile and locks his jaw. He opens the door and pauses. She tries not to stare as he starts rubbing his hands on his jeans, trying to rid himself of the grime on his hands and forearms.

"Oh hey, did you need something for that? I carry a few towels in my glove box. I'm somewhat spill prone, so I try to have a towel or two on hand for my little messes." Jesus Katniss, ramble much? Get a hold of yourself! She juts forward and her long braid whips around as she reaches across to the glove box to pull out an old towel.

"Yeah, that would be great, thank you." He takes the towel from her and wipes off as much as he could. "That's dirt and coolant on there now, so you might want to just toss it when you drop me off."

She pauses, What? Oh. "Okay, where do you need to go?" she queries.

"Do you know Odair's garage? It's just ahead in Seven Acres, on the corner of 4th and S Avenue," he supplies.

"I think I know the area, yeah...I can take you there," she guarantees him.

"Thanks. Appreciate it," he says.

She looks him over again, suddenly a tad weary with this polite, but abrupt man now sitting in her car. The blue shirt she noticed earlier was now lying across his knees, somewhat haphazardly. She notes it's also covered in grime, but she sees a name tag stitched on the chest. She was just about to make out the name when he clears his throat. She brings her eyes back to his and notices how they are framed in very pale, but long eyelashes.

Oh yeah. Put it back in drive dummy. She steers back onto the road and tries to resume their conversation. "So, what's wrong with your truck?" she starts.

"Blown radiator hose. Blew coolant everywhere," he rattles off.

"You sound pretty confident about that. Are you a mechanic or something?" she teases.

"Actually, yes. I work over at Floyd's Restoration in Beeville," he responds.

"Oh, so that's your work shirt," she gestures to the garment in his lap.

"Yeah, that's me, 'Peeta', as it says right here," he tells her as he holds up the badge.

"Oh, I couldn't be sure," she prattles, "I have friends that buy those shirts at thrift shops. So, Gale wears a 'Bob' shirt and Thom is a 'Dave', and so on..." He didn't look like he got her humor, as he wasn't even mildly laughing or smiling. Shit. And here she thought she was being funny.

"I'm Katniss Everdeen," she states quickly, trying to redirect conversation to a good place.

"Thank you for stopping, Katniss. And thanks for the ride," he says with a smile. This smile was different. It was little looser, like there was something behind it, but she cannot be sure.

"So..." What did he say was wrong on his truck? "Your truck... you couldn't fix it, or MacGuyver it or something?" she asks.

He barks out a short laugh, "Ha. Nah. It needs a new hose and more coolant. Finn will have the stuff, and he can take me back, so I'll be out of your hands soon enough," he says.

"Oh," she laments and bites her lip. She likes him being in her hands.

"Duct tape and a paper clip wouldn't have made a difference it his situation," he offers with a lighter tone than before.

Katniss laughs. "Oh...yeah, probably not."

Peeta grins now. "Everdeen, hun? You're Prim's sister?"

She straightens up her in seat immediately. "Yes, why?" At full attention now, Katniss shoots back, "How do you know my sister?"

"Whoa there tiger, she's dating a friend of mine. I've had to play third wheel a few times," he explains.

She softens immediately. "Oh…wait. Peeta?" gesturing to his work shirt again, "Peeta Mellark?"

"How many 'Peeta''s are there in Beeville?" he asks.

She blushes. "Not too many I guess. So you're the baker's son?" There's just the one in her memory but this man before her is definitely not that boy anymore.

"Youngest of three, yes," Peeta replies.

"Oh, I think I was a year younger than you in school – wait – how much older is this friend that Prim is seeing and why didn't I know about it?" she muses.

"Easy there – you know Rory, don't you? So get your cackles down," he cautions. "Hey, just a few blocks up here, on the right."

Damn. Are they there already? She's not quite done talking to him – after just now putting it together that he was that loner kid in high school she never talked to. He looked different back then. His hair was longer back then for starters – it used to fall in soft waves and his face seemed softer in her memory. Now, his features are slightly sharper with age and his longer, ash blonde curls are short. He has a strong jawline with just a hint of scruff.

Stalling, Katniss sputters, "Do you get harassed by the alumni committee, you know, for the five year reunion?"

He shakes his head. "Nah, they don't bother me."

"But aren't you curious about some of the people we went to school with? I mean...how they turned out?" She is craning her neck now, to see his reaction on the other side of the car. She watches his profile as he takes a deep inhale and releases it after a beat, still focused on the road ahead

"No," he replies.

Before she can follow up, he turns his upper body toward her, and states, "In fact, you were the only one I ever thought about after graduation."

She gapes at him and searches herself for a response but is shocked into silence. She is shaken out of her stupor when he taps the window to indicate the garage. "That's it, across the block," he tells her.

"Oh, well hey – I want to make sure that you can get your part and the other … stuff," she stumbles. "Are you sure you'll be able to get back to your truck to fix it – before dark? Because I'm just going to run a few errands and head back to Beeville, if you need a lift back to your truck," she finishes as she approaches the garage.

Peeta nods, "Yeah, I think I can manage," he says as he unbuckles his seat belt.

Katniss fishes for a pen from her center console. "Here, take my number, just in case." She scribbles down her cell phone number.

He laughs as she shoves the scrap of paper into his hands. "Okay, okay – just in case."

Their fingers brush in the brief contact and a thrill dances down her spine. She can't believe she just gave a guy her number. She can't believe she just gave Peeta Mellark her phone number. Shit.

She smiles back at him as he leans back and exits the car.

Her mind reels as she watches him walk away. He's thought about me? Me? I'm the only one he's thought about? She can't hit Prim's preset number fast enough as she mashes the '7' and dial buttons. Prim picks up on the second ring.

"Sister. Tell me everything I've missed in the last five years about Peeta Mellark," she demands.

"Hello to you too, sister. Why do you ask?" Prim teases.

Exasperated already, Katniss sighs. "Because I asked you and maybe because I just gave him a lift to Seven Acres."

Prim hums. "I was wondering when you two would reconnect. That didn't take long."

Katniss gasps, "What? Reconnect? When did we connect? Please start making sense," she pleads.

"Oh, well... you didn't give him or any other guys the time of day in high school, but it was obvious that he had a crush on you," she says.

"What? And you never mentioned it? How was it obvious to everyone but me? And I knew he existed. I just didn't think about...guys like that," she replies. Or at least that she would have shared with her sister. Prim did not need to know the aggressive sexual thoughts she kept locked away in her head.

"Katniss..." she leads.

"Don't sugarcoat it Prim. Just say it," she quips.

"Well, you can be really dense when it comes to the opposite sex. You were focused on school and your extracurricular activities. Head cheerleader and honor roll. Didn't leave a lot of room for other thoughts," she describes.

"So that's why he told me I'm the only one he thought about after high school?" she ponders.

"He said that? Wow. His confidence must have really been through the roof today. Or he was being cocky. I've mostly seen him be cocky. One night he got pretty drunk though and admitted he had a thing for you after I goaded him," she rambles.

"Drunk? You're 18. How did...?" she questions.

"Katniss! Again with the density. I wasn't drinking, neither was Rory. It was just Peeta and we were keeping him company at the icehouse until he sobered up." she expounds.

"So spill it, what's he been doing? Who has he been doing? How serious was this thing for me?" Katniss fires back.

"He started working at Floyd's out of high school and has been working on or painting cars ever since. If you see a restored car or truck on the road in the tri-county area that looks like it just came from the showroom but you know is decades old, Peeta had something to do with it," she enlightens.

"So why didn't he stay at the bakery?" she contemplates.

"Would you stay with that witch? If you had a choice?" Prim retorts.

"Well no, not with a cruel mother like that, but it's a family business," Katniss reasons.

"Yeah, but he has brothers who can help. He chose a different path," she defends.

"But he's still here. Is he single? He acted single today," she notes optimistically.

"Oh...he always acts single, even when he's leaving with a girl. I've never seen him with the same girl more than twice and he never takes them to his house. A real loner, that one," she describes.

"So..." Katniss probes.

"Yeah, he doesn't lack for attention. You've seen him. He's gorgeous," Prim asserts.

"Understatement of the year, little duck." Switching gears, she asks, "And how do you know so much?"

"Rory worked at Floyd's for a while. They became friends and Peeta would hang out with us from time to time, when I still lived in Beeville, and when he wasn't going home with a chick or hiding out at home. He's easy to talk to, once you get him to open up," Prim offers.

"Hmmm."

"What now?" Prim reacts.

"I gave him my number," Katniss states.

"You did? I mean that's great, but why? You're not that kind of girl," she exclaims.

"I'm 23 and I can give a guy my number. And it was in case he needed a ride back to town," she supports.

"A riiiiidddddeee?"

"Shut up. Never mind. Thank you for your insight, little duck. Always valuable, you are," she snaps.

"Okay, I gotta go anyway," Prim says.

"K, talk to you later, bye," Katniss utters before ending the call. She takes a moment to process all of this new Peeta information. The only guy in high school she noticed might have noticed her too?

Katniss is able to finish up her errand and stays to loiter in the pedestrian mall when her phone buzzes with an unknown number.

"This is Katniss Everdeen speaking," she answers in her most official voice.

"Hey, it's Peeta. From earlier?" he ventures.

"Yes of course Peeta, did your friend have the parts?" she relaxes and tenses at the same time.

"Yeah, but uh… he can't leave - is that offer for a ride back to Beeville still good?" he inquires.

"Yep, just finishing up over here on Pearl Street. I can head that way now," she assures him, suddenly feeling nervous. It's just a ride. It's just a ride. Right?

***************************************************************************************************

Katniss navigates back to Odair's Garage and parks outside. She walks up to the open bays in search of Peeta, or anybody really. She can hear voices in the office. She rounds the corner to spy Peeta leaning up against an open engine bay, hood propped up behind him. He drops his oil rag and stretches his arms above his head. His white henley shirt rides up and she can see a swath of skin across his obliques and abs. He's fit, but not stacked or cut. There's just enough to pinch just above his waistline. She wonders if he's ticklish. Wait. What? She's shaken out of her reverie when she hears the voices start up again.

"So...Everdeen, Hun? That's…" a new voice announces.

"Yeah. Left field, right? I wonder what she's doing back home," Peeta answers.

"Well I'm sure sorry I can't give you a lift back to Beeville," the other voice responds. This must be his friend.

"It's cool, she's on her way. She's driving her dad's Beetle. Can you believe it? I can't imagine how it still runs," he considers.

"The green one?" his friend asks. Wait, Finn… and Odair's Garage. Finnick Odair. She vaguely recalls him as a student.

"Yeah, it's gotta be a '71 or a '72," he swivels the chair and his gaze drifts over to the window, no doubt noticing her car parked outside.

She steps from the shadows and announces, "It's a '72. Elm Green. And you know, good maintenance goes a long way. They do have mechanics in Capitol City, too," she stands there expectantly, giving her dress a little tug. The v-neck had shifted a little and she adjusts the sleeves.

Finnick laughs, "Yeah, well, none as good as Peeta or me. How are you? What's it been, five years?"

"Probably more like seven since you graduated. I'm well and just here for a pick up, not an over haul. Are you ready?" she asks, nodding to Peeta.

"I'm set, let's go," he replies. They walk out to her car in silence. "Your footsteps are quiet, I didn't hear you come into the office."

"I get that from my dad too," she boasts with a smile.

His grin reciprocates, a much different passenger than hours before. "Uh yeah? So why are you back home then?"

"PU recruited me in the kinesiology department. I'll be teaching a couple archery and running classes this fall. I'm just here early to settle in," she answers.

"So you're still pretty good with a bow, then? That was always such a grand finale in the pep rallies," he says.

"Oh god. You remember that? Yeah, I was number one in the region in college," she reflects.

"I remember everything about you, it was you that wasn't paying attention. I bet you picked running since you used to run sprints on the track team," he suggests.

Somewhat taken aback by his admission and memory, "Well I just figured I'd go with it even though I wasn't as fast in the distance runs. They needed an instructor to cover both classes."

"So...Katniss Everdeen, roadside rescuer, mess-maker, sprinter, archer, new instructor at Panem University, and driver of a 72' elm green Volkswagen beetle. Which sounds a lot rougher now than it did earlier," he rattles off.

"What? I don't hear anything," she asks with genuine concern.

"Yeah, don't you feel it running different? Can't you feel it shaking? Sounds like it could be a few things, but I'd have to check under the hood to be sure."

She rolls her eyes and smirks, "That sounds like a line, Peeta Mellark."

"It's not, I swear," he holds hands up in defense. "Look, we're nearly to my truck and losing daylight. Stick around while I put this hose back on and fill the radiator back up with coolant, then follow me back to my house, and I'll check out the engine. I have the tools at home."

"Oh I'm sure you do," she beams.

"No, really, that way I can repay you for the lift to and from Finnick's," he suggests.

"Oh, that's not necessary - I just did what anyone else would have," she states.

"Not really, several cars passed me before you pulled over. Unless you have somewhere you need to be - or someone waiting for you," he fishes.

"No, I already checked in with Prim, and she's out with Rory tonight. So…okay, well, if you insist," she resigns.

"Great, okay, there's my truck," he directs.

She tries not to appear restless as she watches him work under his hood. He moves with speed and deliberate steps. She takes advantage of the silence to review the last few hours. She's flirted with Peeta Mellark. Quiet, shy Peeta Mellark from high school. She would observe him with her hunter's eye when he wasn't looking. She would sneak glances during wrestling matches, while he painted in art class, and as he decorated cakes at the bakery. He's all grown up and she's seen him go from aloof, to cocky, to downright direct in one afternoon. Now he wants her to follow him back to his house. She wants to know more about this crush he had on her. She considers the man he's become as he leans, bends, and stretches over the front of his truck. He is attractive, there's no denying that. She wouldn't mind seeing him in less clothing, but does she want to be just another girl he sleeps with - since there are so many already? She is shaken from her internal conflict as he releases the hood prop and the heavy metal door slams down.

"Okay, all set. Let's go," he guides.

She follows him. His neighborhood is quiet, nice. Quaint. The debate rolls on in her head. Will he make a move? Will she reciprocate? She feels she might be over-thinking this.

He pulls in the driveway and motions for her to pull up alongside of his Bronco. He hops out of his truck to unlock his garage door, releasing the hinge and lifting the door up manually to roll it on the tracks. Oh god, there go his biceps again. She pulls into the single bay. Looks like he'd have room for two cars, if there weren't so many tools and part boxes. Gosh, and she thought she brought her work home with her.

Her eyes must gleam with surprise and he emits a laugh. "Haven't you heard the joke? That a mechanic's car always runs the worst, since we're always working up under other people's hoods? My Bronco is also very needy, so I tend to buy parts in bulk. I just don't travel with him but maybe I should. Look, your engine needs to cool down a bit before I can touch anything. Care to come inside for a while?"

"Yeah, okay," she utters as she steps cautiously through the house, remembering what Prim said about girls never going back to Peeta's house. Does that mean she's different or that he really does just want to fix her car? Because, if she's honest with herself, she could definitely use a thorough assessment under her own hood. It's been at least a year since moving on from her last boyfriend and one night stands never appeal to her. But finally being alone with Peeta Mellark? This has potential. She wonders if she could stop at one kiss. Just to know what it feels like.

The air feels electric as Peeta brushes past her on his way to the kitchen and cracks open his refrigerator, "Um…beer or water?"

"Beer, I guess" she replies as she sees him plating something from the cupboard.

"Here you are, try one of these" he offers.

"Are those Mellark's cheese buns? How…?"

"Oh, my dad brings over what they don't sell most days and sticks the goods just inside my door. I may not work there anymore, but it's still in my blood."

"I get it. I mean, Prim said you moved on to cars, but you can't just forget your upbringing." She pauses as he seems a little lost in though. "Why cars?" she redirects.

"I was pretty steady decorating the cakes, so I started in the paint booth – spraying and then pinstriping. I got pretty good at that and just started helping out when there wasn't something to paint," he explains.

"So I guess shop class paid off for you then," she jests.

"Maybe more than cheerleading did for you" he challenges. "Although… your dress reminds me of the uniform a little," he teases.

"What, oh yeah." She reminisces. The pale orange blossoms on navy did echo the team colors she'd have to wear. "This is more 'me' now though."

"It sure is," he drawls. "Let's go take a look at your bug."

*********************************************************************************************************

Peeta lifts the rear hood to inspect the engine. "Shit. Metric," he curses.

"Oh, my dad gave me a set of tools to use on the car - let me get it from the front," Katniss reveals as she moves around to gather the bag.

"You see there, that's your problem," he gestures to the open engine bay. She inspects the engine and sees nothing amiss or broken. "Loose distributor hold down. If it's not adjusted right, the timing is off and the motor runs rough. I'll get it tightened back down for you," he assures her. He goes about digging in her tool bag and pulls out a socket that will fit the hold down bold. "C'mere, you need to see this in case it loosens up again," he says as he pulls on her hand and places it on the palm-sized knob. He offers the socket so she can test it out. He covers her hand with his own and applies pressure. His pale hands are warm on her olive skin. "Just turn it clockwise until it clicks," he murmurs. His body is close and she can't help but lean into it a little. His breath tickles her ear and skitters under her neckline.

"That's it?" She turns to face him, mere inches away. She focuses on the hint of blonde stubble along his chin. Then she lifts her eyes to his lips, fluttering her eyelashes.

He bobs his head and swallows thickly. He leans in to her slowly, giving her only a moment to consider the next step. She has decided. She wants him. She wants to feel his lips on hers. She wants to fuck Peeta Mellark. More than that, she wants to be fucked by Peeta Mellark.

The socket drops to the floor. It clanks against the concrete and is immediately forgotten. His hands cup her jaw, fingertips probing her hair, grazing her ears. One thumb comes down to drag on her lower lip. She nods ever so slightly in acquiescence because there are no words for this moment. He licks his lips and descends onto hers. She grasps his shoulders, thick and taut under her hands, and holds on for dear life. His kiss is hungry. She can feel the years he's wanted to do this in their urgency and she returns the eagerness. His tongue slips into her mouth and she welcomes the intrusion. Everything is focused on their mouths. His body hovers over hers and in a second he pulls her away from the car. Before she can pout, he slams the door down hard. Then she's back, pressed up against the car. The rear slope of the car providing the perfect inclination for their bodies to align. Her breasts are mashed to his chest. She's leaning back as far as she can go and he's situated himself between her legs. He's at her neck now and her fingers are scratching his scalp. He's not making any moves to remove her dress, covering her exposed neck and reachable décolletage in nibbles and long swipes of his tongue. Her shoes slide off as she draws a heel up his calf, widening her hips for his access. Her dress starts to ride up and his hands skim the outside of her knee. She's grasping his shirt collar now, clutching him to her.

He grabs her right leg and hitches it higher over his hip, allowing her to feel all of him. She can sense the grease and grime from his fingertips streak her thigh.

"You're getting me dirty," she notes.

"I'll wash you," he promises.

"Later," she states.

"Yes ma'am". Her ass is in his hands in a moment's notice and she's lifted up off of the ground. His kisses do not stop as he assaults her lips, her neck, and what he can reach of her breasts. He grinds against her as she clings to him, legs locked around his waist

She wants him, but there are too many layers in the way. She reaches for his belt.

"There's a condom in my wallet, left rear pocket," he whispers.

Nodding, she digs it out and pushes his pants and boxer briefs down, just past the luscious curve of his ass. She can't help but give a cheek a firm squeeze. His erection is reaching for her, seeking her as she adjusts them. She tears open the foil and roll the condom down his thick cock. God will that fit? It felt big earlier but now that she has it in her hot little hands, she hopes she can take it. After pinching the latex tip and hooking her panties to the side, she rubs the head in circles in her arousal. When the top is generously coated with her evident desire to be fucked, she takes him in a little and replaces her arms around his shoulders. She moans, he grunts. He thrusts up and Oh god. He is huge. She tells him so in breathy pants and it spurs him on. He backs nearly all of the way out before snapping his hips and pushing back up. Her back arcs off of the car as he repeatedly fills her to the brim. He keeps his hands locked onto her hips to guide himself in and out as she rides his cock. The pull of her underwear is causing just enough friction across her clit coupled with the way he's pumping into her, she feels herself nearing the edge. Her thighs squeeze his hips and her inner walls grip his length as his thrusts become less measured. He's fucking her hard now. She cannot hold on any longer. She flings her arms away from his neck and reaches for the roof rack on her car to hold on. Her orgasm rolls off of her in sequential ripples. He speeds up and drives into the oncoming rush of her spasms. He calls out her name and comes hard. He falls forward on to her body, chest heaving and still connected to hers.

She unwinds her legs from his waist and tries to stand as he retreats. Nope. Too hard. She's just going to lie back on her car for a moment longer. She places an arm back to rest behind her head. She is sated for now, but there's still the matter of his mechanic handprints on her face and ass. Her dress falls back down, hiding her new stripes.

"Well Mellark, you said something about a bath?" she plays.

"Yeah, just give me a minute." He says with a smile while rolling off the condom and disposing of it in the corner trash bin. He pulls his jeans back up over his hips but doesn't fasten them, belt still hangs limp to the sides.

She follows him back into the house and up the stairs to a large bathroom. "Take off your dress," he commands.

"Oh, now you want me naked?" she jokes.

"Only way to get you clean," he returns. "And your hands are cleaner," he adds.

Good point. She pulls off her dress. In the light, it's easier to check for damages, but it appears to be safe. She drags it over her head and hooks it on the back of the door. At this point it seems silly to be bare in front of him, but she still feels a twinge of modesty. She's locked in her own world for a moment until she notices his branding. There are dark smudges into her hairline, along her ears, down her chin, and smattered from her knees to butt. Yep. She definitely just fucked a mechanic. She see him pull back from the shower to grab some soap from under the sink. "What's that?" she asks.

"GoJo. I could scrub on you for hours, but this will get the job done faster," he explains.

It's gritty, but sure enough, her face and haunches are clear of his markings in no time as they wash up in the shower. He pays special attention to his fingers, making sure all traces of the grit and grime are gone from there too. She thinks they're nearly done when he pulls out what looks like his regular soap. It smells more like him than the harsh degreaser. He lathers them both up and sneaks a kiss in when she closes her eyes.

This kiss is gentle after the frenzied fuck downstairs. She likes the contrast. His fingers glide up and down her body. He doesn't pause anywhere for too long. Shoulders, elbows, breasts, nipples, belly button, anywhere he can reach, he's touching her, testing her. Until he finds her where she wants him again. "I'm going to do terrible things to you tonight," he promises.

"You haven't already?" she asks breathlessly.

"No, I'm just getting started." He says as he plunges one finger into her. "I've finally got you right where I want you." He swabs over her clit with his thumb and buries his fore and pointer fingers into her, curling them and consequently curling her toes. He fucks her with his hands until the water runs cold. He alternates soft and hard kisses on her lips and face. When he combines an ear nibble with his ministrations, she comes undone again.

They stumble out of the shower and fall against the counter, drunk with lust. She doesn't even towel off before she drops to her knees in front of him. His rapidly swelling cock is at eye level and ripe for tasting. "You're not the only one with fantasies, Mellark," she utters before taking him in her mouth. He's backed up against the ledge and grips the sink as she licks, sucks, and strokes him. She takes as much in as she can without gagging and then takes a little bit more. He moans as she works him towards the back of her throat. She pulls off and swirls the tip with her tongue, keeping a firm grip on his base. She doesn't want him to hold back, he certainly didn't earlier. "I dreamed about sneaking into the art studio, where you spent all of your free time at school. And doing this to you while you painted." She places a light kiss on the tip, this time keeping her eyes trained on his expression, "I wondered if you could still hold the brush, while you fucked my mouth.' He doesn't disappoint her next, by grabbing her head and pushing himself into her waiting mouth. She squeezes his balls and he comes again. Unloading into her throat.

"Damn, Everdeen."

"Like I said. Living out a fantasy"

"Well keep them coming"

They fall into bed and his mouth finds her again and again. On her lips, on her other lips. She feels like her undercarriage has received a very comprehensive cleaning tonight. He's not done with her yet though. They lay side by side in his bed, too tired to sit up when she feels him, hard and expectant at her thigh. He reaches for another condom and adjusts her leg so that together, they look like a scissor-tailed fly catcher in motion. His warm breath fans across her ear as he purrs, "I have a dream or two about you too." He moves into her to punctuate his admission. "You complete your part of the pep rally with the flaming arrows and then I steal you away under the bleachers," he continues.

He's not as deep as he was earlier, but she can still feel all of him as he slides in and out of her with just enough friction. His fingers seek out her clit and rub lazily to match his slow thrusts.

She can hardly speak from the delicious pleasure he's administering, but she would like to hear how his fantasy plays out. "And….?" she sighs.

"And then I bend you over, flip that tiny little skirt over your waist, and give you a light spank," he divulges. He's still barreling into her with every little detail. "Once your beautiful ass is nice and pink, I rid you of your bloomers. And you are begging me to fuck you. You wiggle your ass and hold on tight to the bleacher supports as I slam into you over and over. I tell you to go ahead and shout when you come, because no one can hear you over the crowd anyway, and like a good girl you do," he finishes.

His words work in tandem with his body and she's soon incoherently chanting out his name. Her tremors proceed his orgasm again. "Tell me more tomorrow," she asks before drifting off.

They sleep a blissful sleep. There are no dreams, just rest and recovery under an old quilt.

************************************************************************************************************

The morning light hits his face. His eyelashes are just as bright and blond as she remembers when fixating on them in school. His stubble is more pronounced this morning. She just stares at him and tries to reconcile the idea that she's actually waking up in his bed. He's beautiful. And she's here, with him.

She's broken from her musings when he starts to stir. She kisses his eyes, his nose, his eye lashes, and decides she wants him again. She places kisses on his neck and works her way down his chest. She gives his cock a firm lick up and down but his morning wood is already in full effect. He reaches for another condom in his bedside table drawer and places it on himself. "I want to ride you," she announces in throaty tone.

"We'll that's only fair. You gave me a ride only yesterday," he grins as she straddles him.

"Yes, yesterday...a lot can happen in a day" she says as she holds his tip at her core. But before she drops onto him, she decides to set some ground rules. "This… is happening, you and me. This now means that you'll only be fucking me for the foreseeable future. Say yes," she commands.

"Yes, god yes," he exclaims.

"Good, because this is one ride you'll always want," she promises as she reunites their bodies.

"I hoped it was you," Peeta said.

"What? When?" Katniss puzzles. They are back on I-12 the next Saturday. They had been nearly inseparable all week, getting to know each other again. At present, he wanted company on his original errand.

"We just passed the spot you picked me up last week. When I saw the green Beetle pull over, I wanted it to be you behind the wheel. Not too many of those cars around, and I hoped the odds were in my favor. I've been wasting so much time with the girls in town, not really finding what I was looking for… always mad at myself for never working up the nerve to talk to you all of those years," he admits.

She reaches over to stroke his forearm as he continues, her short finger nails skimming the freckles there. He has opened up plenty in the last week in between the explorations of their bodies, though this is uncharted territory. "But they were in your favor. And it was me," she volunteers.

He veers of the road at this and throws the truck into park. He hops out of his side of the car, jogs around to hers, and pulls her out of the truck. He pulls her tightly to him, lifting her up in the process. "I'd like to think this would have happened anyway," he says longingly.

His smile is infectious and she returns it. Her nose nuzzles his before their lips connect. This kiss is an acknowledgement. A promise. Her tongue probes his mouth as her body burns for him. They stay locked in their embrace as other cars pass by and honk, pulling her out of the moment. She rests her forehead on his. "I do too," she convinces him.