Title: Savage Love
Author: drakien
Rating: M for grown-up themes. And because I'm paranoid
Disclaimer: I'm saving up for a trip to Italy, and thus cannot afford any part of CSI at the moment.
Spoilers: None
Pairings: Just about any M/F pairing you want…though we all know I sail the GSR ship!
A/N: Much thanks to my moonbeam of happiness Kirsten for the beta. This is what I ended up doing instead of studying for biochemistry.
Romance novels don't tell you everything.
Sure, they talk all about dashing suitors and reluctant virgins who manage not one, but three orgasms their first time 'at the mercy of a man'. Though really, I guess if the first guy I ever slept with could have kept Mr. Wonderment up all night, who knows what kind of madness would have ensued.
And I mean really…if you were being chased through the prairie by some half-nekkid savage that looked like the guy on the cover, would you honestly be trying all that hard to get away? I don't think so.
So yeah, the books never talk about how sometimes right in the middle of things your hip seizes up so hard you can't breathe.
I've never once read anything that said when a girl goes down on a guy after he's worn a condom, it made her mouth numb.
They sure as hell never mention the After-Sex Towel that so many women keep beside the bed for easy clean-up. Or wet spots. The books never seem to mention those.
The day after? What's that about? I'm walking along, doing my job, and without any kind of warning…GOOSH! And you're off to powder your nose, whatever the hell that means, to take care of what had apparently been hiding from the After-Sex Towel while you idly compare yourself to an English Muffin…nooks and crannies filled with…well.
And another thing! Post-coital lassitude MY ASS. Like most men, he's out like a light. He snores too. I don't remember ever reading about snoring. It's not loud, really…it actually reminds me a little of Darth Vader.
But it turns out that another one of those things you never read about is how quickly you get used to having him in your bed. I swear, if his breathing changes the tiniest bit in the middle of the night, I wake up. I can't fall asleep anymore without touching some part of him.
It's the little things like this that remind me that I didn't fall asleep reading one of my books again. He's wrapped around me like a blanket, pressed against my back, and he's drooling a little.
And I wouldn't trade it for all the half-nekkid savages on the prairie.
