The lights are off in the closet, something Lydia isn't entirely unfamiliar with, and they're trying their best to be quiet. It seems impossible when they're both breathing so hard, but after all of the chaos of Beacon Hills, Lydia Martin has learned when she needs to open her mouth and scream, and when she needs to be quiet, so she won't be found.

That stated, it's nearly impossible to be quiet when she has Jordan's mouth on her neck and he's sucking a mark into her skin while his fingers slide up her skirt, just barely teasing at the inside of her thigh.

He's trying to make this painful for her, she already knows, after how long she has been sitting by his desk, running her hands and eyes over his body. The sexual tension in the office had been staggering, but now in this closet, she was suffocating from it.

"Rip them off," she demanded, arching her back some. Any other boy would do as she stated, pull the thin lace from her body and touch as much as she allowed, but he was no boy, and where she pushed and demanded, he teased and tortured. It was a sweet hell he was dragging her through, and she hated loving it so much.

"Do you really think you can torture me like that and get away with it," he insisted into her ear. His teeth caught on the lobe, and then he was moving his mouth lower, now working his way towards her breasts. She was too short, however, even in her high heels, and suddenly, Lydia was up in the air, her legs around his waist, with his hands gripping onto her hips.

Breasts now in his face, Jordan kissed down towards her cleavage, ready to start working his way lower. They didn't have the time for him to truly have her right now, but given his newly found supernatural strength since his 'death', he was able to lift his girlfriend as though she weighed nothing.

Just about to lift her up more so that he could take a taste of the warmth he felt against his hand, the door to the closet suddenly opened.

"… I don't want to know." The Sheriff is standing there, shaking his head, eyes turned down towards the ground. He knew the second that the two of them disappeared that they had gone somewhere to makeout, but the fact that they were doing it in his supply closet was a new step. "I just… don't want to know."

Lydia's cheeks were red, but with Jordan setting her to the ground, she quickly smoothed out her skirt and straightened herself. After all, she was over eighteen and had flirted up men the same age as Sheriff Stilinski before. She had no shame… and, Jordan was her boyfriend.

"Good evening, Sheriff," she hummed, not even bothering to comment on what he had just seen as she stepped out of the closet and returned to the desk that she more or less shared with Deputy Parrish.

Standing there now was just the two men, with Sheriff Stilinski shaking his head more, as though he could somehow remove the image of the two lovers caught red-handed. Jordan tried to not seem so awkward, crossing his arms over his chest, ignoring how red he felt.

One glance from the Sheriff, however, made him feel like a school boy standing in front of the principle.

"I… she… I can…"

"I don't want to know," the Sheriff said with a wave of his hand. "I just… I don't…"

"She's kind of hard to say no to," Jordan says with a laugh that ends up feeling even more awkward than it already was.

The Sheriff nodded slightly, looking around the room, imagining it twenty-five years earlier, with a very different Sheriff standing in the doorway.

"Yeah… I can see that…"

Damn redheads…

If you are waiting for or expecting an update on one of the billions of things I need to do, I'm sorry I suck. Come visit me on my tumblr at melanoradrood, and we can talk about how horrible of an author I am. I'm just writing at random these days. Please forgive me.