WALT
He watched her. He couldn't help it.
The sound of her voice, the click of her boot heels on the wooden floors. The faint floral scent of her shampoo. His brain captured all those tiny moments, stored them away, and when he wasn't paying attention, played them back at inconvenient times. Like when he was asleep.
He knew he was undressing her with his eyes and didn't care. He wanted her so much but this one guilty pleasure was all he would or could allow himself.
He wanted to taste her, breathe in that vanilla floral scent off the curves of her soft firm body, find the places to kiss that made her squirm, the places that would make her sigh and cry out.
He wanted her but couldn't actually say it out loud. If he was honest, he would admit to not even having the slightest idea HOW, what words a man would use.
Because it was more, so much more than the physical desire. Yes there was a fair share of that, but he wanted her to be the first and the last thing he saw of a day, to share sunrises and sunsets, snuggle up on the sofa on cold winter nights, toast marshmallows, drive, talk, ride the high plains beside him.
He wanted to make a life with her and he DEFINITELY didn't have the words to express that.
So instead, he watched her.
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VIC
She watched him. Following him around on cases she got a lot of opportunities.
Plenty of chances to eye those long jean clad legs, the shoulders wide enough to block a doorway and that fine fine ass of his.
She particularly liked to watch his hands, large calloused and scarred, they were strong and capable. Yet gentle and soothing when the occasion demanded it. She saw the way they caressed the soft fur of Dog's ears, finding just the right spot to scratch, and usually absentmindedly while doing something else.
She watched his face a lot. At first it was in self defence, his expression and response so locked down, she had to pay close attention to the small signs. It got easier as they got to know and trust each other. But she still kept looking at his face. Because she liked it.
She liked him and over time it had become that slow burn of awareness when he was around, that pleasurepain of the thing she wanted but couldn't have.
GOD she wanted him. To bury her face in his shoulder and breathe in that essential male fragrance of healthy sweat, leather and horse that was uniquely his. She wanted to see him sleep touselled in the morning, to kiss him awake. She wanted to break through that intense reserve and tap into that deep well of emotion she just knew was there.
She wanted to kiss him til they were both breathless, to drive them both screaming into the abyss, she wanted to hear him sigh her name, she wanted to mark him. God she wanted him. All of him, the complicated and difficult man he was.
She knew he watched her. It was hard not to notice, they were so hyperaware of each other.
She waited, wondering. For a long time. A very long time.
And still he only watched her.
