In the past, when men had had sex with her, she had always felt...hmmm, how had she felt? For some reason now, she seemed not to want to remember how she had felt with them.
But she knew it was an important thought, so she delved into it.
Before, when she had had sex with other men, there was always a lingering feeling playing around in the back of her mind. A thought that hadn't occured to her or she that she had been aware of till now. A thought that, even though they thought they were being giving...they were actually taking from her.
Yes, there were inevitably always takers. Self styled studs that had great bodies or were well endowed or both. There were ones with money or position or power and the lot of them turned out to be in love with themselves more than they would be with anyone else. They took their pleasure from her, even when they thought they were giving it...and they did...she demanded it...but there was always this feeling of them taking more than they gave...some made it feel like a race to the climax...some had thought that a good old fashioned hard f*ck was always the way to go...ok so sometimes it was...but not ALL the time!...some even made her feel like that were using her for some form of a masturbation tool...like after a while she wasn't really there, but they were f*cking their own ego...those she never let touch her again...much to their confusion...
There were sensitive and loving guys...men that thought the were in love with her. Men that HAD been in love with her. But even those were always...what was the word?...Not lacking...she didn't want to use that word, but for some reason that's the word that fit. In the end there was always something lacking.
Again, she hadn't really realized it till now...but maybe that's why she had never really committed to anyone fully. Till now...
They tried, they were ernest and committed, loving and gentle. They were equally pleasurable in their own way also.
But even those felt like they were taking more than they gave. Some acted like they couldn't believe they were shagging such a beautiful woman as her. (She thought this with not even a hint of ego. It was just a fact, she was indeed very beautiful, that's all).
Some had indeed loved her. But even those had either been intimidated by her physical and mental gifts,or mesmerized by them. She had grown to hate that. They made love to her then looked for approval like they were a good puppy or something.
Some always seemed to wind up competing with the other men in her work and private life, or the ones that her beauty envariably attracted wherever she didn't do it intentionally, but it always seemed to develop into that anyway. And then making love to her turned into some form of proof that THEY were superoir...and she should ignore everyone else. She grew to detest that as well.
She lay on her back, relaxed and happy...and stared at the ceiling. It was very late...or very early if you looked at it that way...and she was more content then she had been...well...ever maybe.
She turned her head to the man next to her. She smiled and and had to touch him and she trailed her hand lightly across the bare skin of his back. He woke slightly and gave a questioning "Uuhh?"
"Go back to sleep" she wispered. His eyes smiled at her and then slowly blinked back to sleep...she regarded him tenderly and remembered.
Remembered how he had held her. Like she was something precious. Like she was the most special thing in the world to him. How soft and firm and warm and amazing and right it had been.
How he had kissed her. She had never felt anything like it before. Not like something he wanted FROM her...but something he wanted to GIVE her...
How he had made love to her. Again, like nothing she had ever felt before. Like he had nothing to take...nothing to prove...not searching for approval from her but only wanting to GIVE of himself for her and to her. It had been gentle and loving and giving and full of murmerings and kisses and touches and longing and lust and passion and want and by God if it hadn't almost felt like her first time for some reason...she knew she was contradicting herself here in way. But that was the thing. There was something undefinable here. In him. In THEM. For each other. Something that made it different. HE was different from everyone else... For her he was...for her...he was for her...and had been all along and ...and...she had ignored it...not seen it...all that stupid wasted time!
She threw her arm over her eyes as tears threatened to well. All that wasted time...over such stupid Logic and rules and appropriateness and propriaties and STUPIDNESS!
She wanted to cry. SO much wasted time. She wanted to laugh. Stupidness? Some word for her to be using. She realized she was feeling very emotional and was losing her train of thought because of those emotions... . Emotions brought on by a flood of chemicals and hormones coursing through her blood caused by...
The thought vanished as she happened to notice those eyes regarding her...with love and a hint of mischief. "Can't sleep Bones?" he mumbled through his pillow.
"Shhhh. Go back to sleep Booth...I'm just...thinking...I won't bother you, I'll be quiet, you go back to sleep and I'll..." The words died in her throat as she saw the change in his eyes. He didn't say anything, didn't move...just lay there, looking at her like...that...and she knew sleeping and thought were over for a while...maybe the rest of the night...or morning, depending on how you...oh...oh God...Oh yes!...she'd think later...