"I wanted to kiss you, then. When I first saw you," she whispers as her teeth drag against Maura's bottom lip. "And ever since."
The room is dark; Jane has Maura firmly pinned, the doctor's back pressed hard against the wall near the front door. With the stairs to their right, Jane watches as Maura's eyes dart back and forth between Jane and the stairs that lead up to her bedroom.
Jane knows what she's thinking.
She's thinking it too.
The sound of Maura's zipper makes Jane feel more drunk than she has ever been in her life.
She watches her. She watches Maura. She watches her very best friend, now her lover. She can't stop watching her, because Jane is sure that looking away would be a bigger sin than anything else she could do. Maura slides the dress down her body swiftly, her eyes never leaving Jane's. In two quick steps, their bodies are pressed together again.
Jane had never been sure before; people called it love making, they said it was different than sex, and they were right, but she didn't know until Maura Isles. Maura is different than sex. Maura is different than anything Jane has ever felt. Her hand molds to Maura's curves, her tongue thirsts for the taste of Maura's skin. She yearns to memorize each toffee-colored freckle. The smell of Maura's raspberry shampoo fills Jane up with a foreign high. She wraps her finger around a tendril of butterscotch-colored hair and gently pulls Maura upward for one soft kiss.
"I love you," Jane whispers, and she means it.
They fall in sync with each other. Their bodies move gently, but not without fault; their noses bump, their hands knock together. Soft giggles permeate through their embarrassment. Jane kisses Maura's neck and finds the sweetest spot and Maura lets out a breathy sigh and her fingers tighten around Jane's waist.
"What took us so long?" murmurs Maura.
Jane is quiet. She pulls back and studies the woman beneath her. The plump red lips, the messy hair. Every part of her is beautiful. Every freckle, each dimple, the two murky green eyes, and most importantly, her heart.
Maura was at Jane's side before Jane knew she needed someone there. For every heartbreak, for every disaster, for every scar and bruise and nightmare. And though Jane had felt unimaginable physical pain, she was hard-pressed to find a time where she felt more pain than when Maura was in danger or absent from Jane's life. They were stubborn, they were hard-headed, they were two opposites, but even at their worst, they were each others best.
Jane shakes her head, astounded at the ludicrousness of the question.
"I don't know," she says softly. "I really don't know, Maura, because I always knew it was you."