A/N: And so it begins…the much-ballyhooed sequel to Talk to Me! I was going to start this off more similarly to TtM, but quickly realized an issue with that…TtM was intended at its conception to be a oneshot (yup…um…didn't exactly work out that way. Whoops). Here, knowing this will be a multi-chap, I wanted to set the stage for a few things. And set the stage I did. Heehee. Get ready for another ride, my friends.
You won't have had to have read TtM to understand what's going on here, but it would explain lots of the development and motivation of our lovely characters.
Standard disclaimers: Characters aren't mine. This is in the "M" section for a very good reason—lots and lots of smut. Just for adults, please!
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Lying on her stomach with her ankles crossed behind her, she was determined to lose herself in her reading. Dental variations in racial estimations. Very interesting. But somehow, she had been rereading the same paragraph for the past 15 minutes—as soon as she finished it, she realized that none of it was retained. Never one to give up, she stubbornly kept trying, and was so engrossed in her efforts that she nearly had a heart attack when she suddenly felt a body land on top of her back in the bed.
"Don't move." His hands grabbed her wrists and his hips pushing her own firmly into the bed. "This is a robbery. I'm taking all of your clothes." His lips buried into the back of her neck and assaulted her with kisses there.
"Jesus, Booth." She was half laughing and half gasping with surprise, having dropped her journal beside the pillow. "You shouldn't scare me like that. I might think you are a real intruder and attack you." Despite her words, she didn't try to resist him, laying her head down so he could have more access to kiss her.
"Like you didn't know it was me. Who else would feel this good on top of you? And just in case you're wondering, there is only one right answer to that particular question."
In assent, she wiggled her ass against him, giving him something to get excited about. "So, is there a particular reason that you've come here, disturbing my reading, other than to molest me?"
"Nope, that's it," he told her, finally releasing her and allowing her to buck him off of her, to her side. He grinned at her. "Oh…and the little matter of talking about that place…"
That's what she had been worrying about. "We might have talked that one to death, Booth," she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder to get a better look at him.
"But we haven't resolved anything." It came out decidedly like a whine, and she had to laugh at him.
"You mean you haven't convinced me of anything yet."
Dr. Temperance Brennan, the queen of independence and autonomy and the world's foremost authority on taking care of herself, had agreed to live with her partner and lover Seeley Booth after months of a romantic relationship that had grown increasingly, undeniably intense. Before all of this began, she would have scoffed at the idea of even considering what he was offering her. But now…well, now it seemed next to impossible to not devote herself to this, to make a choice to not be with him. This man, his son, and their relationship had steadily risen in importance in her life until they became valuable as her job, her family—and herself. Pushing aside her fears about being vulnerable, she was allowing herself to fall headfirst into this shared world.
She had entrusted him with investigating potential places for them to live, a task which he had undertaken with enthusiasm. Yesterday they had spent time looking at these places that he had chosen. She quickly noticed a pattern. "Booth," she had said, slowly, as if speaking to a small child. "These are not apartments. These are houses."
He had shrugged, innocently. "We didn't say it had to be an apartment."
She put her hand on his shoulder and ushered him away from the prying eyes of the realtor. "This might be my fault. I don't know if I ever told you this before. But I'm definitely an apartment person. When something goes wrong, I like just being able to call the landlord to come fix it. I like not having to mow the grass or shovel the snow. Houses—way too much domestic responsibility there." She looked at him expectantly, assuming that he'd get all this.
"You don't need a landlord when you've got Mr. Fixit around." He winked at her and tried to pull her back to realtor, nonplussed.
"We can't get a house," she said plainly, more emphatically now, but he shushed her.
"We're just looking. No harm in looking, right?"
She knew better then, and now, lying on the bed in his apartment while he looked at her with his persuasive eyes and smile, she struggled to put on her game face. "There's absolutely no reason we need a place that big. I mean, there's just the two of us…we're at work most of the time, and when we're at home…well…we're usually in bed anyway."
"I seem to recall us making good use of all the other rooms, as well."
She shoved him indignantly, and he had to grip the edge of the bed to keep from falling off. "I meant we're usually only here to sleep." It was hard not to laugh at his expression. She softened her tone. "Why do you want this so badly, anyway?"
His voice turned serious. "Just think, Bones. It wouldn't be that much different than having an apartment—but we'd have more privacy, wouldn't be sharing a wall with anyone. We wouldn't be dumping our money into the garbage every month with rent. And we'd have more space for Parker when he comes…not just a bedroom, but a playroom, and a yard."
Her face was still doubtful.
"Plus," he admitted, "I want something that we can really make ours together. Something we can share."
"We share pretty much everything, Booth."
"Something material. Something that, if anybody asks, I can point to it and tell them it belongs to us." he insisted. He wasn't entirely sure how to explain this desire to her…in many ways, she was right. On the surface, there was little difference if they shared a house or an apartment. But there was something intensely symbolic about this whole thing to him, and it was difficult to convey the importance of this. Maybe he shouldn't be so pushy; at least she had accepted his proposition that they share their lives together in this way, and he had been thankful for this. Still was. But strangely, the more he got, the more he wanted, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to accept anything from her but everything.
"You remember what I said about the white picket fence, right? Not me. Will never be me."
"I remember. No fences, I promise. Just…let's go take another look today. I bet the place will have grown on you." His smile was winning, and he stroked her hair in the way that always gave her a little shiver.
"And if I'm still not convinced then?"
"Then we'll look for something different." Damn the man and how convincing he could be when he looked at her like that. She was saved from his charming ways by the ring of his phone. "We'll talk about this later." Sliding off the bed after kissing her cheek, he went to find his phone.
Sighing, she realized that the getting caught up on research thing just wasn't happening at this point on a Sunday afternoon—apparently she had more on her mind than she was willing to acknowledge about what all these changes meant in her life. Tossing the abandoned journal aside, she stood and immediately felt dizzy. Sugar. She needed sugar.
Maneuvering her way out of the bedroom, she heard Booth's voice filtering in from the other room…"Hey dad, what's up…oh, he got another promotion already? That's just great. But we just had a party for him…" Catching his eye in the living room, she mouthed the word 'chocolate' and pretended to be eating a candy bar. He pointed to the top shelf of the pantry, and she rummaged through until she found what she was looking for—chocolate teddy grahams leftover from Parker's last visit. She pawed through the box hungrily. "You know I want to, but it's not always that easy just to drop everything and come to PA for the weekend. Temperance and I are looking into getting a place together and…what? Don't you think I'd tell you if we got engaged?" He paused. "Aw Dad, don't start laying that guilt trip on me now…I'm 35 years old." Mostly unconcerned with whatever was happening on the phone, she wandered in and collapsed on the couch with her chocolate treasure, much more engrossed in the contents of the box than she had been with the contents of her journal. "Dad…just…don't worry about it. We'll do our best to be there, okay?" She looked up at him a little irritated at the implied "we," but he ignored her as he wrapped up his call. "Okay…alright…tell Mom and Jared I said hi…"
When he finished, she popped another cookie into her mouth. "What was that about?"
"Dad…he's just…" He was distracted then. "Since when are you such a cookie monster?"
She shrugged. "I just wanted something sweet."
"Well all you had to do is ask." Sitting beside her, he took the box from her hands and kissed her thoroughly while she half-responded, and half made an effort to get her chocolate back. Finally, he released her. "Jared got a promotion. For the second time in about six months. So of course, we have to make a big deal out of it and eat cake."
"Cake sounds good. Why do you sound so jealous? I'm sure your parents would do the same thing if you got a promotion."
"I'm not jealous. It's this Saturday. They want us to be there."
She sighed. "So this is what it's like? Having family obligations?"
"Fun, isn't it?" He grinned at her.
"I'm not sure I can make it. There's a lot to be done in the lab."
"C'mon. It's the least you could do for my parents after forcing their son to live in sin."
Her mouth dropped open. "Forcing you!"
He laughed. "I love this conversation. But for now, we need to go take a second look at that house over on the North side."
"Why do I feel like you are always trying to convince me of something? One of these days, I'm going to be on your case about something you are reluctant to do. Then you'll see how it feels," she grumbled, dragging herself to her feet and reluctantly abandoning her treat in favor of her purse and keys.
"Now how would I not know how that feels when you are bugging me for sex all the time?"
The last sound that echoed in the apartment was a resounding smack.
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They had picked the keys to the place up from the realtor after Booth promised her that they were really, really interested in the place and needed to take a closer look, and Brennan had to admit that it was nice to examine the house leisurely, out from under the realtor's watchful eye. She wandered through. It was nice. Spacious rooms. Hardwood floors. She hadn't lived in a house like this since she was 16 years old, and even then it hadn't belonged to her—it was her foster parents'. The idea of being in a place like this felt completely foreign to her. In the room that was likely the master bedroom, there was a large picture window, once of the most beautiful features of the house. Drawing the blinds, she gazed out onto the yard. It was lush and green; there were bushes to each side, and beyond that she could see a bit into the neighbor's yards. A sandbox…a child's bike…this was a family place. She didn't belong here.
Booth came up beyond her; she heard his approach from the slight creaking of the non-yet-carpeted floors, so it didn't surprise her when she felt his arm around her. "What do you think?" he asked her, his voice filled with hope.
"It's nice. You know I think it's nice."
"It's us. It's made for us."
She rolled her eyes. "How do you figure?"
"It's a feeling I get."
"It's too big. It's too much."
"That's what we thought about us in the beginning, too." Looking out the window one last time, he reached out and closed the blinds. "Temperance. It's the perfect place for us to start living together. We can afford it. It's beautiful." He took her hands. "We deserve a place like this."
She breathed in deeply, and smelled the well-polished floors. She looked around the empty room, nervously. "I don't know, Booth…"
"Well…let's see if I can give you the feeling that I'm getting right now." He pulled her closer to him, nuzzled her neck, and she sighed. "Seriously, though, Bones…I want you to be comfortable wherever we are. I don't want to coerce you into anything. But this reluctance I'm feeling from you…I'm not sure where it's coming from." His hands threaded through her hair and tugged her head back slightly. "Is it coming from here…" He kissed her forehead. "Or here…" Bending over slightly, he kissed her chest, right over her heart.
"It's coming from me being unsure about my suitability for this kind of domesticity," she replied honestly, touching his head to encourage his staying at the open collar of her shirt, suckling there occasionally.
"It's just a place, baby," he told her, his voice as soft as his kisses. "We make it suitable. We make it feel right." Raising his head, he looked seriously into her eyes, and was pleased by the desire he saw there.
"How do we do that?" she asked, a little breathlessly. She sounded innocent, but by now Booth knew her better than that. When it came to knowing what she did to him, there wasn't an innocent bone in her body. Her smile was a little coy.
Suddenly, he didn't feel like being gentle anymore. He swiftly lifted her and, growling, pushed her against the bare wall of the room. She widened her eyes at his change in demeanor, but her smile didn't leave her face, and she tightened her legs around his hips. "You sure this won't decrease the value of the house?"
"Are you kidding? If anything, the value will increase." He pushed his mouth up and into hers, hungrily. "Mmm. You taste like chocolate."
"I bet my mouth isn't the only part of me that tastes good," she whispered breathily, and her words made him involuntarily buck his hips up into hers, the ridge of his hardness in his pants catching her between her legs. A smile crossed her face at the effect she was having on him; he caught that look and she could practically read his own expression in return. 'Damn tease.' Oh, she was getting much better at this, knowing what he was thinking.
"You want this, baby?" She nodded. "How?"
She considered, enjoying the obvious frustration he was feeling at having to wait for her answer. "How did we do it last night?" she asked, sweetly. She remembered damn well how they did it last night.
"Slow and gentle," he said between gritted teeth. His hands slid underneath her top, caressed her heated flesh there, and for a second her cocky confidence left her face as she gasped. The empty room and the bare floors caused the noises they made to echo, amplifying the sounds of their desire.
"Well then…I suppose it's time for hard and fast." Without waiting for further instruction, he dropped her to her feet and spun her a little roughly so her chest was against the wall, his hands sliding over her demandingly. His actions reminded of her of the dozens of times she had seen him arresting an uncooperative suspect. Of course, she was being completely cooperative. Couldn't help but be, really…his hands were doing magic things to her skin. Turned around, she couldn't see what he was going to do to her next, and her body thrummed in anticipation of his next touch.
"Arms up," he told her, and she complied.
"You going to cuff me?" she asked. She had meant to say it teasingly, but her voice was quivery now, betraying her arousal.
"You wish." He pulled her shirt up and over her head; when the garment was on the floor, he immediately went to work on her back and shoulders with his mouth and tongue until she was shivering. Her position made it easy for him to unhook her bra, and he dispensed of it quickly. Liking this position but unwilling to go without seeing her, he took her by the shoulders and spun her around, taking in her bare-chested form in front of him. "Very nice," he said admiringly.
She had to chuckle a little. "I suppose I should be happy that even though we've been doing this for months now, you still ogle me like a teenager."
Oh, absolutely. He couldn't get over being able to look at her like this—every time he did, he felt the a little thrill of the slightly forbidden, a treat that he had held himself back from for a long, long time before finally giving in and gorging himself. Remembering that she had asked for hard and fast, he reached for her now. Her breasts looked ripe for him…even fuller than usual, and he silently reminded himself to keep the woman supplied with chocolate if it was going to contribute to this beautifully voluptuous figure. When he squeezed her and tugged on her hard nipples, her moan and reliance on the wall for balance told him that she was especially sensitive today, as well.
As much as she was enjoying this treatment, she had been enjoying his tough-cop routine. While he teased her breasts, she struggled to wiggle out of her pants and undo his, as well. They fell from his muscular thighs and she sighed in approval. Kissing him hard one more time, she flipped around again, facing away from him and bracing herself against the wall.
Oh, no way. It struck him that every which way they did this was always the best ever. He loved making love with her while facing her, gazing into her gorgeous eyes while he made her come. He loved her on top of him, where he could watch those sexy breasts above him while she rode him. Now, this…well, what a perfect view of her lovely backside, and the perfect, tapered shape of her waist before it flared into the roundness of her hips. His hands touched those parts of her.
"Enough," she groaned, tiring of the erotic torment of his hands on her bare flesh in this new place. Stubbornly, she swayed her bottom back towards him, where it brushed against the stiffness of his erection.
"You sure?" he whispered into her ear. Dumb question. She pushed back harder. Taking hold of her hips, he lined himself up with her, without hesitation this time, thrust hard into her, while and the same time pulling her hips back to meet him.
Almost immediately, a silky ribbon of pleasurable tension tightened around her womb. She loved the feeling of being pulled by him. Her palm were flattened against the wall, but her fingers now curled, nails coming dangerously close to chipping off the new paint. Tossing her head and looking behind her, she saw him watching intently the length of himself slipping in and out of her, and she had to smile. He was such a voyeur sometimes. She pushed back against the wall to meet him. One of his hands stayed at her hip; the other dipped between her legs in the front so that he could brush her aroused clit with his fingertips in time with his strokes. God yes. Hard and fast definitely had its charms.
He became entranced by this rhythm, by this woman, as the most sensitive part of his body was milked repeatedly by a heat that was wetter and tighter than he had ever known. As typically happened at this point, words fell from his lips, mostly unconsciously, but still as honest as he ever was with her. "So…good…we…belong…here…love…you…so…fuckin…much." And him talking was all well and good to her, because it was always in that low throaty voice full of pre-ejaculatory bliss that got her hot every time.
She pushed off the wall hard a few more times, forcing him into her body as hard and deep into her as she could, getting him to touch that place inside of her that made her lose control. The combination of all this stimulation quickly brought her to a plateau, which she struggled to suspend at for as long as possible. There were few better feelings in the world than that second of almost unbearable tension, right before hurtling over the edge with her lover. Feeling her shudders and the little waves of her sex undulating against his bare cock, he groaned and joined her in this fall. "Come with me baby," he moaned, thrusting hard, rubbing her hard, and panting into her ear as the pleasure washed over both of them.
After a few moments of labored breathing, he could no longer handle having so little of her against him, so he pulled he back up standing, wrapping his arms around her while she reached up and back, cupping the back of his neck and twisting around to kiss him, hard. They stayed joined into it wasn't physically possible anymore. Exhausted, now, they both slumped against the wall.
"Now, if that doesn't prove we can live here, nothing will," he told her, still trying to catch his breath.
She raised her eyebrows at him. "Following that logic, we could just as easily live in an airplane bathroom," she pointed out, referencing another of their more adventurous exploits.
"Touché," he agreed, reaching out and pulling her to him, so her head was laying on his shoulder. They were quiet for a minute.
Finally, she spoke. "I'm willing to give it a try," she told him softly. His growing grin made her feel like she made the right decision. "But," she said, emphatically, "I have first dibs on making the next major decision in our relationship."
"Absolutely," he declared, hugging her and kissing the top of her head. But deep inside, he was thinking that really, there were no more major decisions to be made in their relationship. As long as she was really committed to being with him, through everything, little else mattered. It would be smooth sailing from here.
Of course, as Temperance could have easily told him, could she have read his mind…when have things ever been that easy?
