Jill could always tell when Chris was home. He knew she hated surprises, so he always made it easy for her. A pair of shoes left in front of the door, the TV left on while he slept on the couch, anything that would kill the suspicion that someone unwanted had been in the apartment. She appreciated the thought, and he appreciated that she didn't accidentally try to blow his brains out.
She slipped out of her coat, hanging it up in the neatly organized closet and stepped out of her shoes, her feet aching from the miles she'd put on running in circles all day. The leather and metal of her sidearm and holster rattled as she set them down on a table. Her socked feet were soundless on the wood floors as she made her way towards the bathroom where she could hear the hum of a fan and the squeaky rumbles of someone shifting in the tub. She knocked once on the door and let herself in. The room was small, but not tiny, done in an odd combination of black and white tiles and mint-green fixtures.
"Jesus, shut the door! It's fucking freezing out there," Chris said, shrinking the upper half of his body down beneath the steaming water line. The large claw-foot bathtub had been an immediate selling feature of the apartment. Most standard-sized baths were too small for him to comfortably fold his frame into. It was still light enough out that he'd kept the incandescents off, late afternoon light spilling in from the single high window.
His hair was darker than usual with water, messily pushed back after he'd dunked himself under the water. Jill saw shadow of stubble across his jaw and neck and could tell he hadn't bothered to shave in the morning. Sitting in the tub, looking up at her, he looked a little wild.
"Trying to boil yourself alive again I see," Jill said although the steamy heat of the room was soothing once she got past the initial wall of heat and moisture. She sat down on the toilet, peeling off her socks and resting her feet up on the cool ceramic of the tub.
"I just thought you might like something nice for dinner after a hard day at work."
"Something…beefy?" Jill looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. She bent her knees awkwardly, taking an inventory of her tender feet. The backs of her heels were red, but fortunately not raw.
"C'mon baby, don't deny that you want to eat this up," Chris gestured down at the top half of his chest that stuck out from the water. Jill had to admit that it did look pretty good, even if it was flushed from the scalding bath.
"You smell like…" she sniffed, recognizing the notes of the bubble bath her aunt had sent her for Christmas. "Pink grapefruit?"
"Real men can wear pink, Jill." Jill didn't think Chris Redfield had owned a single item of pink clothing in his entire life.
He sat forward, batting her hands away. Taking hold of one of her feet in his large, warm, wet hands he started to work his thumbs into the tense muscles of the balls and arch of her foot. Jill groaned appreciatively and leaned back against the toilet tank, closing her eyes. Somehow he always knew just the right amount of pressure to use to ease out the tension without being too harsh.
"Rough day?"
"I don't even want to think about it," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. The heat of the room and Chris' ministrations to her feet helped to bleed away the stress of the last eight and a half hours.
"D'you wanna hear about my day?"
"Your strenuous day off, you mean?"
"Hey," he said, switching feet. Jill let the toes of her other foot dip into the warm water.
"It was pretty strenuous, considering the huge list of things-to-do someone left for me."
"You poor thing," she commiserated, resting her head against the top of the tank.
"Oh what a rogue and peasant slave am I!" he agreed, then leaned forward to press a kiss against the top of her ankle. Jill cracked open an eye, taking in the gleam of his muscled chest and legs where they were visible above the water. Her body felt relaxed, languid, and sensual.
"Hey Chris, I think you missed a spot."
"Where?" he asked, looking down as he rubbed a thumb over the sensitive bump on the side of her ankle.
"Here," she said, getting up. "Let me show you."
She knelt down on the bathmat beside the tub, picking the bar of soap up from its dish. She dipped her hand in the water and then pressed it to his chest, moving it in a slow circle. Chris looked down at her, watching as she concentrated on moving the bar over the planes of his chest. Right to left, then down, then left to right, then down, lower and lower. While she worked he reached down and took hold of her other hand, pressing it to his lips.
He kissed each of her fingertips, the inside of her wrist, nipped at her palm, as if he could distract her from mesmerizing build of lather on his chest. Her hand moved further down and disappeared below the water line, massaging over his abdominals, and then lower still. Jill let go of the soap to grasp his growing erection in her slick hand. Chris groaned into her palm, arching his neck back over the rim of the tub. She stroked him until he was fully hard and his breath started to become raspy.
"Jill," he said, reaching down to still her hand. "Get in here. Now."
She stood up in one fluid motion and Chris got to his knees too, his hands fumbling at her belt and fly. She unfastened the buttons of her shirt, slipping it off her shoulders, then unfastened her bra and dropped it on the floor as well. Chris dragged her slacks down over her hips, running his hands over her thighs as she stepped out of them. He peeled her cute, striped cotton panties off last of all, sliding his hands down with them as far as he could.
Chris moved back as Jill stepped into the tub, giving her room to sit down on his lap, facing away from him. She leaned back against his chest, her head on his shoulder, letting the warmth of the water seep into her skin. He trailed his hands along her sides, stroking the sides of her breasts, down to the indentation of her waist, and then over the swell of her hips. His slightly pruned hands came up to cup her breasts, kneading and weighing them in the water, her nipples stiff against his palms. The sensation, so familiar, and yet so different without the rasp of friction made her rock her hips back against him.
Chris craned his neck to kiss and nip at her neck, his tongue tasting the perspiration that beaded on her skin. One of his hands slipped lower, finding a different kind of wetness. Jill moaned as his fingers lightly tapped against the hard bead at the top of her slit. He loved the feeling of her, Jill Valentine, boneless in his arms, rolling her hips into his hand as the other alternated tugging and twisting at her nipples.
When she could feel herself getting close enough, wet enough, Jill leaned forward, taking his rock hard erection in one hand and guiding it into her warmth. Long fingers dug into her hips as Chris growled low in his throat. She moved slowly and smoothly over top of him, not wanting to splash water all over the floor. Chris found the pace agonizing, but he let her have control, slipping one hand around strum her clit. Shameless in her pleasure, Jill tossed her head back, arching her breasts out into the cool air.
Chris could imagine what she must look like from the front, wet, glistening, perfect breasts with their puckered pink nipples - how they might bounce a little with every deep thrust she took. The thought of it made him groan aloud and apply a little more pressure with his fingertips.
Jill shifted herself a bit, letting out a moan of her own when his cock found that one flawless place inside of her. She started to move more quickly on top of him, no longer caring how much water got anywhere. Chris reached out and grabbed one of her hands, twining their fingers together and squeezing hard. The simple intimacy of it sent her plunging over the edge with a cry, gripping his hand and the edge of the tub tightly. His fingers moved away from her clit to grab tightly on to her hip, pulling her down for a few more thrusts before he met his own release.
Together they slumped back against the slope of the bath, catching their breath.
"Christ you're dirty, Redfield," Jill said, his fingers still holding hers on her stomach. His other arm was wrapped tightly around her waist.
"Me?" he asked, incredulous, "I was trying to clean up before you came over here and dirtied up my bath water, Valentine."
"What can I say; I can't resist a real man in pink grapefruit."
"And after I made you dinner and everything," she could feel him shaking his head with mock-disappointment.
"You made dinner?" It was her turn to be incredulous. She turned her head back and pressed a brief, soft kiss against his lips. "Did it come out of a can?"
"No," he lightly pinched at her ribs, making her squirm. "It came out of a box, actually."
Jill laughed, the sound of it echoing off the walls back at them. Chris loved the sound of her laughter, as rare as it could be. As long as he could make the most serious girl he knew giggle, the world hadn't gone to complete shit.