>From: dianora2@aol.com (Dianora2)
>Newsgroups: rec.arts.anime.creative
>Date: 12 Dec 1997 01:18:31 GMT
>Lines: 272


"Willful Hearts" by Dianora            1/1            *NC17*  (Lemon)
A Robotech Story

This story takes place about three years after the end of The Macross
Saga.  It's kind of in keeping with events as they are presented in
"The Zentraedi Rebellion" by Jack McKinney, although I never can be
too bothered with stuff like chronology. <g>  This is mindless smut,
nothing more!

The characters presented here do not belong to me; they belong to
Tatsunoko, Harmony Gold, and I have no idea who else.  No copyright
infringement intended.

This story is rated NC17 for depictions of sexual activity.  If you
are underage, please go away.

Comments to Dianora2@aol.com.


"Turn it off," Lisa snapped as she entered the kitchen.  She rummaged
in the cabinet for a coffee mug, slammed the cabinet door shut just a
little too loudly, then poured herself a steaming cup from the
automatic coffee maker.

Rick managed to look both annoyed and chagrined as he turned off the
radio sitting on the kitchen table, which had been cheerfully blaring
Minmei's "Stagefright."  "Sorry."

"I'll bet."  She stifled a groan when Rick's back stiffened.  Great,
she thought wearily.  Here it comes --

"It's just a goddamn song, Lisa," he said angrily.  He shoveled more
eggs into his mouth and chewed vigorously, making the action look
almost violent.

Something ripped inside of her and she slammed the mug down on the
counter top, dimly surprised it didn't shatter on impact.  "Why do
you always get so defensive?" she asked, knowing an answer would not
be forthcoming.  "Guilty conscience?"  She winced as soon as the
words spilled from her mouth, immediately realizing that she'd gone
too far.

He got up from the table, glared at her.  "Yeah, that's it exactly,"
he sneered.  "I'm screwing Minmei whenever I'm not with you.  Happy
now?"

Lisa massaged her temples and closed her eyes, willing the argument
to go away.  "Do we have to get into this before I've even had my
first cup of coffee?" she moaned.

"You know what?  You can get into it all by yourself," Rick snarled.
He grabbed his keys and left.  The bang of the closing front door
echoed behind him.

Lisa sighed into the emptiness of the kitchen, then took a resigned
sip of coffee.  When would they stop doing this to each other? she
wondered.  When will *I* be able to just let it go?  They had so
little time together, since she'd started living up at the factory
satellite.  She was only here for another couple weeks, and she
supposed she should be making every effort to make their precious
time together as pleasant as possible.  But she couldn't help it.
The mere mention of that woman's name, the sound of her voice, made
her so crazed she couldn't even see straight.  If only...

She groaned when she realized that she and Rick both had a meeting
later in the day.  How was she supposed to stand up to a bunch of
resistant, truculent martinets without his backing and support?

She instantly acknowledged to herself that the thought was unworthy
of him.  No matter how angry with her he might get, he would still
echo her ideals and plans for the mission, presenting a united front
to the rest of the council.  She wasn't sure at the moment whether
that fact made her happy or irritated the hell out of her.

Right now?  The latter.  Definitely.

The truth of it was, they'd been arguing a lot lately -- well, okay,
more than *usual*, at least -- and she wasn't exactly sure why.
Maybe it was just the continued stress of managing the REF, and of
having to be apart so much.  Or maybe it was that they had now been
engaged for almost two years.  The honeymoon, so to speak, was over.

She sighed again and finished the rest of the coffee.  She toyed with
the idea of eating the rest of Rick's eggs, but couldn't bring
herself to do it.  It was starting to get late, anyway.  "Duty
calls," she mumbled.

God, she needed a vacation.  Too bad Tahiti was probably still
radioactive.

                                ****

"I trust there are no further questions, gentlemen?" Lisa asked in as
steely a tone of voice as she could muster.  She stared down the
gleaming wood conference table.  A couple of the men seated there
fidgeted; others kept their jaws firmly clenched.  Exedore, seated at
her right side, had said little during the meeting, but had
nonetheless radiated support, and she was grateful for that.  Rick,
for his part, stared straight ahead.  He hadn't caught her eye once
during the meeting.  If that was the way he wanted to play it, then
so be it.

"Fine.  You'll receive my new recommendations on mission protocols
tomorrow.  Any further problems, please address them directly to me."
In other words, don't sit around and gossip about it behind my back,
she thought sourly.

No response.  "You're dismissed," she said, probably overstepping her
bounds a bit, since not everyone present was of lower rank.  But at
this point, she simply didn't care.

She watched their retreating backs as they filed out of the room,
Leonard, the last one in line, closing the door behind him.  She
wondered how long it would be before Leonard in particular caused
more trouble.  Hopefully he'd at least give them a bit of a
breather...she exhaled, loudly, then turned her attention back to the
table.

Rick was still sitting there.

Determined not to give him the upper hand, she began gathering her
notes, placing them in her attache case.  "Do you have something to
add, Admiral?" she asked, studiously neutral.

He cleared his throat.  "Yes, sir."

She folded her arms in front of her chest, trying to ignore the
niggling of desire that curled in her chest whenever she looked at
him in his uniform.  If only the thing wasn't so damn snug...

"You, ah...did a great job, just now," he said quietly.

Not the response she was expecting.  "Thanks," she said warily.

He continued in a rush, "I was still pissed at you when I got here,
you know, and then you were just so...so capable, so great, the way
you handled those stuffed shirts..."  He looked up at her, smiled
slightly, then shrugged.  "It, uh, it reminded me of why I love you
so much."

She drew in her breath, her heart beating erratically.  "I'm sorry
about this morning," she said softly, meaning it.

"Me too."  He barked a short laugh.  "I hate fighting with you, but
you have to admit, we do it so well...must be all that practice,
huh?"

She shook her head and walked over to where he was sitting.  He
reached up to place his hands at her waist.  "I can think of other
things we do better," she said, and leaned over to kiss him.

They kissed slowly for a while, tongues gently flickering over each
other, lips parting and meeting again and again in a leisurely dance.
Then Rick rose from his seat and pressed up against her, backing her
up against the table.  The edge of it dug into her back, but she
didn't complain.  Their kisses were rougher now, need building within
them all too rapidly.  His hands were everywhere suddenly, on her
hips, her thighs, her breasts.  She let out a soft moan against his
mouth.

"Is the door locked?" he asked, his voice deep and harsh.

She shook her head.  "Rick, we can't --"  But he was already at the
door, locking it securely.  On his way back toward her he begin
peeling off his uniform.  "Rick..."

"Sorry, babe," he said, throwing off his shirt, then pushing her up
against the table once more.  "But I have to have you right now,
so..."  He trailed off and kissed her again, his hands reaching up to
clasp her face.

God.  She couldn't resist him.  Never could.  Her knees sank a little
and she leaned in to the kiss, running her hands over the hardened
muscles on his bare chest.  She began to work the fastenings of her
own uniform, but he stopped her.

"I want to," he said firmly.

She watched as he undid her uniform jacket, slid it down her arms,
then did the same with her shirt, gently but deliberately, focused on
his goal.  He kissed her bare shoulders, her neck, caressed her
breasts through her lacy bra until it took every ounce of willpower
for her not to squirm.  Pleased with her reaction, he lifted her up
and placed her on top of the polished table, then deftly removed her
knee-high uniform boots.  The rest of her clothing soon followed.

When she was completely free of clothing, he stopped and took a
moment to swiftly slip out of the rest of his own uniform.  She was
possessed by a hilarious sense of unreality, looking at him standing
there, naked in the conference room.  She chuckled softly.  "Could
you imagine if Exedore knew what we were using this room for right
now?"

He laughed, the sound loud in the echoing room.  "He'd have a
coronary on the spot."

She reached out for him, and he entered her embrace, easing her back
onto the flat surface of the table, then climbing on top of her.

This was just too much.  She laughed again.

He shook his head, grinning down at her.  "You're not going to throw
a giggle fit on me, are you?"

She suppressed another laugh.  "Make me stop," she challenged him.

He covered her mouth with his, and laughter was forgotten.  His hands
kneaded her breasts, rolling the nipples between thumb and forefinger
as he continued kissing her, kissing her until she was moaning into
his mouth, consumed by the feelings his mouth and hands were stirring
within her.

Finally, after an eternity, he pulled his mouth from hers.  "Love
me?" he whispered, blue eyes glinting.

She could only nod, beyond speech.

He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose.  "Good."  Then she gasped
as he reached down and stroked her between her legs, finding the
right spot and massaging gently.  Her hips rose and fell beneath his
hand as he slipped one, then two fingers inside of her, his thumb
continuing to caress that tender nub.

She felt self-conscious, suddenly, the way he was watching her so
intently as her breathing grew increasingly more ragged, as her body
responded to him the only way it could.  So she reached down and
grasped his swollen sex, caressing that soft steel, and was rewarded
with his low groan.

"No fair..." he whispered.  He ceased the manipulation of his
fingers, then grabbed both of her hands and raised her arms above her
neck.  "I'm way too close as it is, Lisa, don't ruin it for both of
us."

She snorted.  "Always did have a mighty high opinion of yourself,
Hunter --"  She broke off as she felt his cock against her,
searching, and she shifted her hips so that he could enter her more
easily, without taking his hands from hers.

Suddenly neither of them felt like talking.  He began to move in and
out of her, only gently at first, then quickly increasing the
intensity of his movements until they could practically feel the
heavy wooden table shake beneath them.  His eyes bore into hers, and
the only sound in the room was the sounds of their lovemaking, of
their heavy breathing and occasional moans.

She lifted her hips higher, and he pushed even deeper into her.  She
knew that he was beyond himself now, driven only to one purpose.  She
wanted to reach it too, but at the same time didn't want this to end,
never wanted to stop...  "I can't stop," she whispered, not even sure
she spoke aloud.  "I can't --"  And she broke off, crying out, as the
orgasm consumed her, her body shaking, twitching uncontrollably, and
then his nails dug into the soft flesh of her wrists as he spilled
over the edge as well, coming inside her with a strangled groan.

When it was over, neither of them could speak for a while.  Lisa
reluctantly suggested they get dressed before someone came knocking
at the door.

"Mmm.  I don't think I'm done with you yet," Rick said huskily,
running his hand down her naked body one more time.

She moved away from him and hopped off the table, reached for her
uniform on the floor.  "Then you'd better hurry up and get dressed so
we can get home and continue this little party, don't you think?"

She didn't think she'd ever seen him get his uniform back on quite so
fast.


end.