Disclaimer: I don't own 'em….if I did, Sara would never leave.
A/N: I've been suffering from extreme writer's block and I'm hoping that writing some on these stories that people have requested a sequel or follow up to might give me inspiration to finish the chapter for the story SoFrost and I have been working on for like a decade now.
I knew she'd go back to her apartment as soon as her shift was over. That's where she found me hours later, slumped against her door, a cigarette between my lips.
She reached down and pulled my one remaining vice from my mouth and tossed it over the railing.
She slid the key into the lock and opened her apartment door. Stepping around me and inside, she left the door open, an obvious invitation for me to join her inside.
I crossed her threshold, quietly closing the door behind me. She had already shed her jacket, tossing it onto the couch as she made her way to the kitchen. I watched as she opened her refrigerator and pulled out two bottles—one water and one beer. She tossed the water to me as she twisted the cap from her beer.
We both stood there in silence, each waiting for the other to break stillness that was enveloping us.
She crossed the room and settled into a large leather chair. I continued to stand there, sipping my water, waiting for her to speak.
This was a game we had played more times than I could count. She wasn't about to cave first and neither was I. In our previous relationship, she would have outlasted me. Tonight, she wouldn't.
"Did you come here to put on another show, Sidle?" Her voice was both cold and detached. I shuddered at the way my name rolled off her tongue.
Although she had found her voice, I was still at a loss for words. I had come here intent on settling things once and for all with her. I had wanted to move on—to move on with Catherine. And now, seeing her, smelling her, watching how her lips closed around the mouth of the beer bottle in her hands…now, I didn't know what I wanted.
"The Sara I once knew and the Catherine I always hated would never have found themselves in the position I caught them in today. What changed?" She stood up and closed in on my personal space.
I still couldn't answer. Although I had previously felt empowered and incredibly sexy when Sofia stood there watching Catherine fuck me, I suddenly felt dirty and guilty. I hung my head, unwilling to meet her demanding eyes.
"Tell me," she prodded. "Tell me what changed. How did you find yourself in her arms?"
I looked up into her emotionless eyes and opened my mouth to speak. No words came out. I closed my mouth and hung my head once again.
"You never were very good at communicating, were you Sara?" Her eyes travelled the length of my body—from head to toe—before she disappeared down the hall, a disapproving look painting her features as she obviously headed toward her bedroom.
I stood in the doorway to her bedroom, watching her undress. Without looking in my direction, she began to talk.
"I called you. I wrote you. Never once did you respond," the muscles in her back flexed as she removed her bra. "I missed you every day—more than I thought possible. I considered moving on, but instead," she stepped out of her pants and turned to face me, "all I did was move back. I came back here because of you."
Although I had seen her without clothes countless times before, this was the first time I had ever actually seen her naked. She was opening up in a way she never had before. I wanted to speak. There were so many things dancing on the tip of my tongue that my heart begged of me to say.
"Why her?" she moved closer to me. "Why on earth would you choose the one woman that made my skin crawl to replace me?" She was only a breath away from me. I could smell the distinct mixture of over-brewed coffee, stale cigarettes, and old leather that was Detective Sofia Curtis.
My arms encircled me in a protective embrace. I was never as weak as I was when I was in her presence. I wanted to reach out to her—to touch her—to taste her—to know her again.
"What happened to make you change so much, Sara? What I saw today—you and Catherine—you're not the woman I knew—at least not the woman I thought I knew."
She moved behind me and was as close as one person can get to another without actually touching them. My breath hitched in my throat.
"Did you like that I watched?" I could feel the warm dampness of her breath against my ear. "Did it turn you on more to know that I was standing there watching another woman fuck you? To fuck you in a way I never did? Did it?"
She placed her hands on my hips and when I didn't pull away, she slowly slid them to my waist and pulled me back, closing the almost nonexistent distance between us.
"When did you become such a bottom, Sara? When we were together….mmmm," she groaned into my ear, "it was you who fucked me like she fucked you today. Do you remember that?"
Her hands slid around and perched on my stomach. I still couldn't respond to her verbally, but my body was responding to her physically.
"Do you recall the fight we had before I left town?" She began to pull my shirt out of my pants and unbutton it. "You ended up bending me over the arm of your couch," I felt her body shudder against me as the memory swept over her. "You knew exactly how to touch my body, Sara. Every time," her hands slid up and cupped my breasts, "you touched me, I felt like I was going to explode. You knew my body like any great musician knows her instrument. You knew exactly when to pluck," she gently pinched my nipples, "exactly when to stroke," she rolled them between her fingertips, "and just how hard," she twisted them.
I leaned my head back against her shoulder.
Her tongue traced my ear before she gently bit on my earlobe. "She told you that she loved you. I heard her."
One of her arms circled me possessively, holding me tighter against her as her right hand easily slid into my pants. She alternated between sucking and kissing on my neck, careful to leave no marks.
"I didn't hear you say anything back to her."
Her fingers slid along the length of my folds, moving further between them with each passing stroke.
"Tell me you love her," she breathed into my ear as her finger pressed against my clit, making me buck backwards against her and moan.
"Tell me you love her," she whispered as she slid her hand inside my bra and twisted and pulled on my nipple.
"Tell me you love her," she said before sliding two fingers inside me and grazing my swollen nub with her thumb.
"Tell me," she said as she bit down forcefully where my neck and shoulder met.
My legs were giving out and I was finding it difficult to stand. If not for her arm holding me against her, I'd have long ago sank to the ground.
"Tell…" I cut her off. I spun around in her arms and using my leg, swept her feet from under her, sending her crashing to the floor on her back. I sank down on her immediately, straddling her.
"Tell you what?" I said as I pinned her arms down on either side of her head.
"Tell me you love her," she whispered. "Tell me you love her and I'll let you go."
"YOU. LEFT. ME," I said forcefully. "Was I supposed to wait and see if you ever came back? I moved on."
"Tell me you love her," she said weakly again.
"I…" I looked down into cerulean eyes and lost any resolve I might have had. "I don't love her…I love you."
Her eyes glistened with a mixture of tears, desire and love. She pulled herself into a seated position and circled her arms around me, showering me with kisses.
She pulled back and looked deeply in my eyes, "That's just what I wanted to hear."
