#i just had a thought that if jesse could talk he'd probably have a southern accent and hoooooooooo BOI

[slashhinginghasher]

Icy - Jesse Cromeans x OFC

Marena accompanies Jesse on a business trip to New York. Jesse bitches about the weather and smut ensues.

Note: Marena is my OC. This is not a reader insert fic

She was fucking with him.

She had to be fucking with him, because the thermometer on the wall read 20°F and she was hanging out on the balcony, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there were icicles hanging from the eaves. Jesse had the heat in the luxury hotel room cranked up to 75°, was wearing a cashmere sweater and two pairs of socks, and Marena was outside in short sleeves casually sipping a drink like she was on a tropical beach. Actually, Jesse had never seen her look as content on a tropical beach as she did standing there in the frigid winter evening.

As much as Jesse loved New York - or at least the idea of New York - the winters there were goddamn unpleasant. He was a southern boy through and through; any temperature below 50° was unnatural. Next time, his clients could come to him, and to hell with “convenience” or “professional courtesy”. It was difficult to maintain a proper air of menace when one was shivering and wrapped in approximately ten different layers. Simply put, the cold pissed him off, and watching Marena lounge in it like a cat in a sunbeam pissed him off more. For the sake of his ego, he had to believe she was actually freezing her tiny tits off and just pretending to enjoy herself to piss him off.

Speaking of the blue-eyed devil...

Marena threw open the balcony door, letting a gust of freezing air into Jesse’s barely-tolerable haven. She paused in the doorway, blinked hard and coughed once as the warmth swept over her, then tossed the door shut carelessly behind her as she made her way to the kitchen. The door stopped just short of fully closed, winter chill creeping in through the one-inch gap. Jesse was irritated, he really was, but Marena rarely showed much skin, even in the middle of a Floridian summer, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to appreciate what he was presented with.

The sleeve of her shirt slipped off one shoulder as she refilled her glass, the upper edges of the scars on her back and torso peeking out from the low neckline. Her shorts hugged her tight little ass in a way that made Jesse’s hands jealous. As he watched her swallow a mouthful of dark red liquid, Jesse felt his own mouth going dry.

“What.”

Marena was watching him watch her, the flat tone of her voice bringing the word closer to a statement then a question. Jesse lifted his eyes from his perusal of her bare legs, letting all the heat and aggravation show plainly on his face.

“Not that I’m not enjoying the view, but are you fucking kidding me?” he signed.

Marena tilted her head and furrowed her brow slightly.

"What the fuck are you wearing?"

She glanced down at her outfit.

“Clothes. Probably.”

“It’s subarctic out there, who the hell do you think you’re trying to impress?”

“Subarctic, my ass,” Marena scoffed quietly, returning to the lounge area and planting said ass on the coffee table in front of Jesse. This close, he could smell the fruitiness of her drink and the crisp, cold air that clung to her hair and skin.

"There is frost on the windows," Jesse pointed out. "The railing is fucking iced over. Arctic."

“I grew up subarctic,” Marena retorted. “This is not arctic.” She took another healthy swig of her drink. Cherry juice, Jesse thought, based on the color.

“Details, details. Point is, it’s freezing, and you’re dressed like a PIGGY.”

Marena’s gaze snapped sharply to Jesse’s, the slight clenching of her jaw the only sign of a shift in her mood. Jesse and Marena often argued over the parameters that designated a person as “deserving to die”, each having very different ideas on the subject. They’d had a fairly heated debate about it over the body of a socialite just before leaving for New York. Like most of their “discussions” on the topic, it had ended with blood shed on both sides, Jesse inside her, and absolutely nothing resolved. 

Secretly, Jesse adored their fights. So few people ever stood up to him (Preston didn’t count - he was annoying in a bad way and nowhere near as sexy) and the fact that Marena was half his size and could still hold her own made things even more entertaining. He was uncertain if Marena enjoyed butting heads half as much as he did. Granted, it was usually impossible to tell if Marena enjoyed anything; her default mode was “seconds away from violence” and her poker face rivaled Asa’s.

“All I’m saying,” Jesse continued with a smirk, “is this is HIGHLY out of character. One might think you were trying to SEDUCE me.” He traced a finger down from the hollow of her throat, barely clearing her collarbone before she swatted his hand away. He moved to touch her again, but was interrupted by a gust of freezing wind blowing a small flurry of snow through the gap in the door. Jesse shot to his feet with a glare that had, in other circumstances, reduced grown men to tears. He slammed the door shut hard enough to make the glass shudder, then threw himself back down on the sofa with a huff. Marena studied the bottom of her now-empty glass, unimpressed with Jesse’s flare of temper.

“Are all Americans such pussies about weather, or is it just you?”

Jesse snarled. Both hands shot out, grabbing the girl by the shirt and yanking her into his lap. He crushed his lips to hers, sweeping his tongue into her mouth before she could even think of biting him. She tasted like cherries, and the fact that she was kissing him back so readily made him think there may have been more than fruit juice in her drink. Marena didn’t fuck sober, at least not without a fight.

Breaking the kiss, he threw her down on the sofa cushions, pushed her shirt up over her breasts, and immediately got to work biting and licking a trail down the scar over her heart. Marena’s hands were moving somewhere around his belt, but he was so consumed in the taste of her skin that he paid them no mind.

At least until she wrapped her ice cold fingers around his cock.

Jesse jerked back like he’d been electrocuted, and Marena laughed. 

Her laugh was as sharp as the rest of her, and so rarely given that Jesse could probably count the number of times he’d heard it on one hand. Now, like each of the other times, the sound awakened a fluttering storm in his stomach. And it wasn’t just arousal, either; they were full-on teenage-girl-writing-in-her-diary butterflies. Marena had a knack for getting under his skin like no one else he’d met, both figuratively and literally. He still had the scars from their first meeting to prove it. And judging by the subtle gleam in her eyes, she knew damn well what kind of effect she had on him.

He was glaring at her now, and she was still laughing, her nose scrunched up and her hair spread around her like a black halo, and the only way he could think to shut her up was to kiss her again and shove his hand down her shorts.

She stiffened and bit down on his lip when he pressed a finger to her clit. He drew a slow, rough circle around the little nub, then dipped lower and traced her entrance with a calloused fingertip. Marena drew in a short, shuddering breath and shifted her hips almost imperceptibly closer to his hand. That was all the invitation he needed to keep going. He rubbed a little harder, moved a little faster, adding a second finger to his ministrations when he felt her slickness growing. He pressed his mouth to hers until their teeth clicked together, swallowing her silent gasp as he slid his fingers into her heat.

He pumped his hand shallowly a few times before pulling out completely, curling his fingers as he withdrew. Marena fixed him with a look bordering on open hatred as he slid those two fingers into his mouth and slooooowly sucked them clean. It was as close to begging as he could get her without a lot of work - work he had no patience for at this particular moment - and he’d take what he could get.

Jesse ripped her shorts off and tossed them behind him, then pushed his own slacks just far enough down his hips for his hardened cock to spring free. He lined himself up with her entrance, and, too eager to tease, thrust his entire length inside with a single fluid movement. Marena’s back arched, head thrown back and fingers digging into the armrest hard enough for her nails to leave marks in the fabric. Jesse held still for a moment, savoring the feeling of her tight heat around him, before grabbing her hips and beginning to thrust in earnest.

The room was nearly silent except for the sounds of skin against skin and harsh, shuddering breathing. It was fast and rough, fucking stripped down to its bare essentials. Marena’s gaze was fixed somewhere on the ceiling behind Jesse’s head, and she clapped a hand over her mouth as her inner walls tightened, teeth sinking into the meat of her palm until it bled. Pace faltering, Jesse pulled Marena’s hand away from her mouth and raised it to his own lips, latching onto the wound and sucking hard. The familiar coppery taste burst across his tongue, triggering his own orgasm as he fucked her through her climax.

Jesse slumped forward in a boneless haze, pressing a trail of kisses up Marena’s throat and over her jaw, leaving a final nip just below her ear. Marena ran a shaking hand through her hair and tried to wiggle her way out from under him. Not happening. Jesse tucked himself away with one hand, the other holding Marena’s wrist to keep her from escaping. He sprawled across the couch and pulled her to him, her back against his chest, wrapping his arm around her waist. Marena made an annoyed little growl deep in her throat, but offered no other resistance to his post-sex cuddliness.

Jesse smiled against her hair. For the first time since arriving in New York, he felt warm.