Waiting Too Long

A/N: Okay so I was re-reading my Troubleshooters and thought I'd see if there was any fanfic and there were only 3 stories! For shame! :(….. So I decided to remedy that! Because I love these characters sooooo much! These lovely characters do not belong to me; they belong to the inimitable Suzanne Brockmann. I am just borrowing them and will return them unharmed. No copyright infringement is intended. (But really, she needs to write faster because I miss them!) Yeah, this one is basically PWP. You've been warned. :D

It was too quiet in the house at night. Even their puppy wasn't making enough noise tonight to keep the regular night sounds from giving Tracy Shapiro the creeps. It had been just over an hour since everyone had gone home, after coming over for pizza, wine and girl talk, and mostly to keep their minds off of the fact that they had no idea where their men were right now, but most likely it was someplace dangerous and risky. It wasn't the dangerous and risky part that bothered her, she told herself sternly. It wasn't. It was just that she missed him, whenever he was away. She knew he would come back to her. He always did. But the waiting was just no damn fun.

She knew the house was locked up tight because she'd done it herself when the girls had left. She checked now, though, anyway, because there was no way in hell she would be able to relax in the bubble bath she was headed for if she didn't. She smiled to herself as she moved through the quiet house. They had been in it a little over 8 months, after just a few short months of being together and living apart, and they were still making it theirs, piece by piece. First to go had been the carpet from the '80s, replaced by beautiful hardwood floors they'd put in themselves. Her man was pretty damn good with his hands, if she did say so herself, she thought with a smirk. He always had to have a project to keep his hands busy when he wasn't at work, and she was all too happy to join his in whatever endeavor he chose.

She made herself a cup of green tea and took it quietly through the house, smirking at the sight of their most recent addition, the garden tub in the master bathroom. Turning on the water and adding her favorite lavender bubble bath, she smiled, remembering some of the fun they had had there together, and would have again soon. She wasn't sure exactly what day Deck would be back, but hopefully it wouldn't be more than a few days. Stripping off her clothes in front of the mirror, she smiled again at the sight of the barely-there baby bump that was still unnoticeable beneath her clothes. She ran her hand over it lovingly. She couldn't wait to tell him. She had decided to wait and tell him in person; it wasn't the kind of news for a text or e-mail. She wasn't worried, though; as well as she knew him now, she knew he'd be as excited as she was. It wasn't exactly a shock, as they had talked about it, planned for it, but she still couldn't wait to see the look on his face.

Stepping carefully into the tub, she let herself sink into the bubbles, the warmth of the water relaxing her instantly as it always did. She had a book in progress, but it sat unnoticed as instead she let her mind wander to the last time they'd been here at home together, just a few short weeks ago, almost being able to feel the strength of his hard chest behind her as they relaxed here together after a long day of working on their house. At times like this, it was hard to believe they had been together such a short time, chronologically. That all of the bumps and bruises of life had led them to this point in their lives, to each other. A song made its way spontaneously into her thoughts, and it made her smile. God blessed this broken road that led me straight to you. She loved that song, and it was apt for them. Maybe they could play it at their wedding. Not that they had gotten that far yet. And she wasn't complaining. She was quite happy with where they were and what they were taking the time to build together. But when the time was right, she was ready. She knew that there would never be another man for her. Lawrence Decker was it for her.

It had certainly been a broken road, full of pain, frustration, and loneliness. And a strangling sense that something vital to her life was missing, but she'd had no idea of how to go about finding it. And although she had for so long never suspected the depths of emotion that existed inside of her for this man, or the connection that would be possible for them to forge together, she realized now that her body had always recognized him on some elemental level. Every time she had inadvertently touched him, it seemed that her body had awakened on a cell-deep level, as if saying, yes, it's you... there you are. As if finding something that had been missing for too long, a vital part that she couldn't live without, had no idea how she had gone without for so long.

Thinking of him sent her whole body reeling, lost in the tactile memories of the last time they had been here together, his warm soapy hands sliding inexorably over her body, never failing to drive her desire higher as they slowly and methodically ignited every inch of her skin, even those areas that she had never had cause to view as erogenous zones. Until him. Until his careful dedicated touch had made every nerve ending in her body sit up and say "there! That's what I've been missing!" He could be patient when he wanted to be. So maddeningly patient. And there was nothing she could do to speed him up, to spur him into action, as she knew from hard experience, so now she didn't even bother to try. She lay reclined against the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen, surrounding by equally hard thighs, allowing herself to enjoy this slow sensual onslaught on her senses, enjoying the steady thump of his strong heartbeat next to her ear and the slow but sure sensation of him hardening against her rear as the effects of his slow and thorough exploration of her body began to make themselves known.

It wouldn't faze him, though. She knew that. He was one of the most focused people she had ever met, and she had discovered, with the appropriate level of delight, that he brought that same level of focus to everything he did. Including her. Even as her breathing began to thicken and her breaths swept across his chest in little puffs of heat, there was no change. Even as she wiggled her rear against the deliciously hard erection that was now pressing urgently into her, no change. Even when she nuzzled further into his chest, her tongue snaking out to taste one flat, hard nipple, there was no change in his speed. She felt the telltale increase in his heart rate, however, and smirked against his skin.

And then she felt his hands rising over her skin once again from where they'd been tracing lazy circles on her inner thighs, so close to where she'd wanted them, and yet so maddeningly far. Up, across the sensitive skin of her hipbones, up, over her rib cage, up and through the water's surface to cup her breasts, thumbs circling her hard-enough-to-cut-diamonds nipples that ached for him right now, his pace still infuriatingly slow, his pressure just barely feather-light enough to be registered at all.

God, she was so very way-beyond-ready for this man right now. So much so that she knew she could just turn in his arms and slide herself onto the thick length of him without any trouble whatsoever. But she wouldn't. Because there was nothing better in the world than this languid place where time itself seemed to have been suspended while her man drew every last nuance of desire from her body and left her wanting him more than she ever would have thought possible. And he was right; it would be all the more intense for the excruciating drawn-out denial of sensation. Still, how she was going to hold out for it was a moment-by-moment struggle.

The barely-there touches continued until she couldn't help but whimper in need, her entire body shaking with lust and with the effort of keeping herself from pushing back onto him, from shamelessly sliding herself back and forth on the hard length of him that was currently burrowing itself happily between her cheeks and then, further, between… oh, yes… right there…

Her whimpers increased until they became strangled purrs, until she was practically writhing under his light hold, her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her mouth wide open as she gasped for breath. God, he loved to see this look on her face. Passion, need, bliss. For him. Only for him. The knowledge that he could get her to this point, that he could have her this worked up and begging wordlessly for what she needed, was the best feeling in the world. She was so close. He could see it in her face. And he hadn't even touched her, not really. She was so sensitive to him that he never failed to be amazed at the heights to which he could take her. Without warning he pinched her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, just as he whispered into her ear, "Come for me, baby." And bit the shell.

Tracy detonated for him, on his command, and it was just so beautiful. And now he was going to take her into sensory overload. He licked at her skin, nipped her neck, one hand still working on her nipple while the other slid over her still-tensing stomach muscles and between her now widespread legs, sliding two fingers inside without a second's hesitation. And the contractions that had begun to wane re-ignited more powerfully than before, her muscles squeezing him tightly, her unconscious moans of his name in just that voice that he couldn't get enough of making him impossibly hard.

Feeling her shatter again, or rather on, and on, and on, Deck felt the exact point when his meticulous control imploded, his hands going to her hips and swiftly lifting her just enough to position her core exactly where he wanted it and slide inside, stretching her, filling her, impaling her with one deep stroke.

The memories of that very nice day washing over her, Tracy followed the demands of her body and began to move her hands over her skin, her eyes tightly shut, imagining they were his and giving herself free rein to touch herself… exactly… as… he…

So lost in her own memories that the world was forgotten, her heart almost stopped when she heard the dark, seductive voice, this time to her right instead of just in her mind. "Missing me, I see," he said, and she started, splashing water in the process, her eyes popping open to drink in the sight of him standing there, one shoulder propped against the doorjamb, his eyes molten hot as they roamed all over her body with the impact of a physical touch. "Deck," she breathed, in delight, with reverence, as if she'd conjured him simply by wanting him badly enough. She'd known this would be imminent: that he would be walking through that door and back to her sooner rather than later, with certainty. Never doubted it. But still, this moment was the very best she could imagine. Ever.

His answering smile as well as the heat in his eyes took what was left of her breath away. He looked so very gorgeous standing there, black T-shirt stretched across all those lovely muscles, worn and threadbare-in-all-the-right-places jeans very obviously too tight as they were now doing their best to hold back that which desperately wanted to be freed. "Don't stop," came the gravel-filled rasp of his voice, and the command in his tone sent a shiver down her spine and a liquid surge of desire straight through her, both of which had her scrambling to do as he wished.

"Yes, sir," she purred in a tone that did unbelievable things to his self control, almost vanquishing it with just those two very diminutive syllables. God, he had missed this woman. He still loved his job. Still enjoyed being in the middle of things and making sure that his people made it back safely. But this was undeniably the very best part of his life now. Coming home to this woman. His woman. Weeks were simply too long to be away from her. Hell, even hours were too long to be away from her now. It made him cranky, irritable, grouchy, horny, and generally as disagreeable as he probably had been every single damn never ending day of his life, once upon a time, as was pointed out by each of his team members in their own special ways. And finally, it was Tom Paoletti who said it best, as he usually did, with a low growl. "Enough! This is done! Everyone go home! And Decker, if you don't get out of here and find that woman of yours, I will have no choice but to kick your ass. Immediately." He'd left. Immediately. Because, really, he couldn't get home to her soon enough. It was just, he hated leaving things undone. Had wanted to tie up every loose end because once he was alone with his woman, it would be days before he surfaced, let alone thought of anything even remotely connected to work.

When he'd let himself into their quiet house and gone in search of her, only to find her submerged in bubbles and hot water, moaning his name as she slid her hands over acreage he very much wanted to taste right now, over what was his, it had sent a bone-deep surge of satisfaction rushing through him. This was what he'd wanted, what he'd been missing for so long and had never known. It seemed impossible to miss now; she was his, and he was hers. And all of the reasons for taking their time and being sure seemed beyond ridiculous now. He had been overcome with urgency on one of the long nights away from her, and had begun planning. Oh, he knew she would smile at him if she knew the direction of his thoughts; the piece of paper was essentially superfluous because she already belonged to him, heart and soul. But he wanted her to belong to him on paper, as well. As he wanted to belong to her. He wanted to stand up before God and the world and promise himself to her. So yeah, the ring that he'd bought her was now burning a hole in his pocket. The only thought he'd had in his mind for days now was getting back to her so he could put it on her finger. And now, it was the second thought in his mind, right behind being inside her, over her, under her, all around her.

His eyes darkened as he watched her, her gaze never leaving him for a second now that she knew he was there, as she moved her fingers over her own body, exactly where she wanted his to be, and he couldn't think he'd ever seen anything hotter. But he certainly knew how to make her hotter, he thought smugly as he lifted his hands to the hem of his shirt and lifted it slowly, watching her beautiful eyes darken in hunger. He toyed with the button of his jeans and watched her breath catch in her throat, knowing that no one had ever been effected this strongly by him, not like she was. Popping the buttons one by one, he opened them slowly, watching her lick her lips as he took himself in hand and, damn, that was almost enough to bring him to the point where she was right now. If he could bring her to ecstasy without really touching her, sometimes just with the sound of his voice, he knew she had the same power over him as well. Just now, the throaty purrs and moans leaving her throat had him impossibly hard and aching.

And, as if she had read his mind and knew the exact direction of his thoughts right now, she had to go and prove it. "Deck, please, I need you in me. Now." And just like that he was out of patience.

And then he was pulling her out of the tub and into his arms, uncaring of the water that splashed onto the floor all around them. In an instant her arms were locked around his neck, her legs were locked around his waist, and she was kissing him ravenously, devouring him with an intensity he must have forgotten, because surely he couldn't possess the willpower to leave for even an instant anyone who reacted to him this... damn... strongly...

Somehow he must have taken the three steps to bring them to the long counter, although it wasn't with conscious thought at this point because all he was cognizant of right now was the length of him rubbing against her hot, slick sweetness as she consumed him, and then he felt the support of the countertop and was sliding inside her, his hands now free to roam her gorgeous body and trace the patterns her own fingers were making just moments before.

Tracy was mindless with greed. There had been lots of times when their need for each other had been hard and fast and animalistic, but she thought this had to be the first time they had gotten to this level so quickly, without a coherent word spoken. And she didn't care. She needed him too badly. She moaned loudly when his hot mouth moved to her ear, licking and nipping and sucking, and then down her throat, drawing her skin into his mouth even as he kept up a rapid pace that was driving her insane. He felt so good, so hot and hard and intense and so hers in this moment, and she couldn't honestly say that words would bring anything to this moment, so she gave up trying. Angling her head, she licked at his neck, letting her teeth sink into him, unable to get enough of the sounds he was making and inspiring him to more.

And that only served to inflame him further. Because now he was pounding into her without finesse, hitting that spot every time, his need to make her lose control and come apart in his arms the sole force driving him until she exploded, every muscle in her body clamping down on him in ecstasy, her nails in his back, her teeth in his shoulder, his name on her lips, and he had no choice but to follow her. Panting, shaking, insensible with every feeling and emotion that was surging through him at the moment, all that he could say was the only thing in his mind right now. "I love you, baby. God, I love you so much."

Still gasping for breath, heart pounding, nerves still jumping with the overload of sensation he had given her, Tracy opened her eyes with effort, still holding him close with her arms and her legs and every other part of her as she grinned happily into his shining eyes. "I know." His laughter was music as she kissed him again, finally the sweet homecoming kiss she had been saving for this moment. "I love you," she told him, her heart in her eyes.

Laughing as they finally got around to surveying the mess they'd made, Deck reached for a towel to wrap around her shoulders, unwilling to step away from her even for a second. As he dried her carefully, he registered the minute but visible changes in her body that he hadn't before, in the fog of his own desire for her. Looking up into her eyes as his heart nearly stopped beating altogether, the look of joy he saw there calmed him immediately. Her smile was beautiful, knowing, and full of bottomless love. "Surprise." Her kiss was gentle now, loving, grateful, and he wrapped her in the towel before wrapping her in his arms, kissing her slowly and then tucking her carefully under his chin to hold her close and bask in this moment. He hadn't thought that anything could make the moment he saw her again more perfect, but he'd been wrong. Now it was perfect.

A/N 2: Okay, so I had some more ideas but I thought it was a good place to end it there. May continue, may not. We'll see. Thanks for reading. :)

And if you are so moved to write some more Troubleshooters stories of your own, I will be delighted to read!