WITHOUT ARMOUR
Alex
moved into consciousness. Resisting, as she had
before,
the urge to reach for her gun beneath the bed, she watched Bobby
Goren's large frame glide cautiously from beneath the pile of
blankets, sit up, and reach carefully into the pile of clothes on the
floor next to the bed. Alex nestled deeper into the blankets, but
kept her eyes on his dark shape. She didn't want to let Bobby know
that she was awake, or to explain why she had been awakened by this
same
movement for the week they had been sharing this bed. As he had every
night for that week, Bobby slipped on his boxers and T-shirt, paused
for a moment to look down at Alex, moved with as much care as he
could muster from his body, and gently slipped an arm around her.
Alex listened as his breathing deepened into sleep and thanked any
powers that might be listening that Bobby didn't snore. As big as he
was, she thought, his snores would wake up most of
Manhattan.
Alex
set her still sleep fogged mind on this particular Bobby behavior.
Bobby was a wonderful lover--gentle, passionate, able to make her
respond in ways Alex hadn't imagined possible. "Great," she
thought, "I sound like those romance novels I refuse to read."
Their first night had been a wild, desperate coming together driven
by lust, need, and love. Alex had returned from her orgasm to find an
incoherent Bobby sobbing her name. She had lifted his tear soaked
face and tried to kiss away the sweet drops. Alex had read about men
who were moved to tears when they came, but encountering it in real
life was disconcerting. As Bobby calmed, he explained to her that his
collapse was a combination of his wanting her so much for so long,
his own exhaustion, and her beauty and passion; Alex fell
into
contented sleep in his arms. When the creaking bed alerted her to
Bobby's departure from the bed, she was stunned. "He's leaving,"
her mind ran. "We've ruined everything--he just wanted to use
me--did I do something wrong?" Her racing thoughts stilled as
Alex realized
Bobby
had stopped putting on his clothes. Clad in his underwear, he ran his
hands through his hair as he gazed down on her. Then, having ended
whatever debate was going on in his head, he slid into bed beside
her.
And
that pattern had continued for the seven days they had been together.
They made love, they had sex (and both of them knew enough to know
the difference), and after every session they clung together. And at
some point in the night Bobby would rise, put on at least his boxers,
and return to the bed. Alex didn't think it was from shyness or some
fear about his body--their fourth night together Bobby had
performed
a lively strip tease in her bedroom that ended with him snapping his
tie at her. On the fifth night she asked him if her apartment was too
cold; he responded he liked it on the cold side. "Gets you in
bed quicker," he said with a wicked grin. The clothes rarely
stayed on very long in the morning--even when Bobby brought her
coffee (he brought it on their first morning and placed it on her bed
side table with a flourish. "If you had anything in this place,"
he told her, "I'd have brought you a real breakfast." She
rapidly demonstrated he was a more than welcome substitute) what he
was wearing disappeared with astonishing speed. But it seemed that
Bobby Goren wouldn't, or couldn't, sleep in the nude.
The detective in Alex resolved to explore this behavior. The next night she willed herself to stay awake. A few minutes after Bobby appeared to be convinced she was asleep, he began twitching softly and stirring. Alex thought he was trying to sleep, but some battle seemed to be taking place in his head. Finally, he gave a ragged sigh, rose from the bed, and placed on his underwear. Alex managed to stay awake long enough the next night to witness a repeat performance, and it became clear that this was a pattern. Alex filed it away with the other information she was learning about Bobby--including his dislike of country music and his fondness for sharing her shower- for future reference.
They
had been together for almost a month and were at a point where they
didn't feel the need to have sex and/or make love every night and day
when they caught a tough case. For a week Alex and Bobby snatched
moments of sleep between interviews, reading reports, and searching
for patterns in evidence. It finally ended, but with one of
those
interrogations that left them both bleeding. When they headed for
their desks, Deakins looked at them both with sad, empathetic eyes.
Carver even came by Alex's desk and murmured a few words of thanks.
Bobby, in the process of staring at a form, was lost to the rest of
the world. "Home, both of you," Deakins told Alex, and
Bobby seemed barely aware as she guided him out of the office, into a
taxi, and to her apartment.
She
had locked the door and was turning to ask him if he wanted a drink
when he was on her. "Please, Alex, please, need you, let me get
lost in you." He mumbled a constant stream of words as he pushed
her against the door. He pushed her mouth open with his tongue and
teeth, and his hands pushed off her coat. "Bobby," she
groaned, and then she cried out as he covered her throat with kisses
and nips. He shed his jacket and she pulled off his tie as he pushed
her to the bedroom. Bobby yanked her sweater over Alex's head, and
bent his head to her upper chest. Alex gasped as he roughly pulled
off her bra. "Bobby, please, it's, a little time, give me..uh…"
Bobby was kissing,
biting,
grabbing her breasts. "Alex, so beautiful..please, help me, take
me away, forgive me...need you so much...please, let me forget."
Bobby's pleading, desperate words blended into the heat Alex felt on
her body. She managed to get her hands between them to unbutton
Bobby's shirt. He stepped back from her, and Bobby pulled his
undershirt off, followed by his pants and boxers. Alex sat down on
the bed, and lifted her legs to help Bobby remove her slacks and
underwear. He pushed her back on the bed and was over her. Alex
looked up at him. All she could see was Bobby's massive frame, and
his deep, desperate eyes. Bobby had always taken his time with her,
even in their roughest moments, making sure she was ready for his
moves, gently opening and exploring her with his mouth and hands. But
this
time he was moving on her with a terrible speed and want. For the
first time in their lovemaking, Alex was afraid. "He could hurt
me, he really could--he's so big, he could crush me with one hand,"
she thought. But she heard the horrible need in his voice, the
constant stream of words. "Please, Alex, need you, please, have
to get lost, get away, help me please…" Then he was inside
her, pressing and pushing. Alex felt a combination of great pleasure
and
pain
and gasped. She grabbed Bobby to her and felt him explode in her. As
her own orgasm took her, she heard Bobby cry out, "Forgive
me!"
Alex
came back slowly from her pleasure. Bobby, sobbing and staggering,
was stumbling back from the bed. Alex sat up. "Bobby," she
said in an unsteady voice. "It's all right.
You
didn't hurt me."
He struggled to control himself. "No…I...oh, Alex…oh, God…what have I..." He stared at her.
She reached her hand to him. "It's all right...really. Listen..." she tried to lighten her voice. "I got something out of it too."
Bobby calmed a bit. "You're sure? You're fine? I didn't hurt you?"
"No, you didn't. But if you don't get back in bed and warm me up I might get pneumonia."
He moved carefully into the bed. Alex snuggled up to him. Bobby placed his large arms around her. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just...I needed to...I needed you."
"It's ok…really," Alex answered. "It's good to be needed."
They drifted into sleep, but Alex was awakened by Bobby's murmuring and twitching. Before she fully escaped sleep she was aware of Bobby's deep sigh. She was alert by the time he was slipping on his boxers.
"Bobby," she said softly as she touched his now covered back.
He started slightly at her touch and voice, and turned his head towards her. "Sorry." His voice was low and exhausted. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"Bobby, what is it?"
"Just a bad dream. I guess you've noticed by now I have them." His voice and posture were rueful.
Alex felt she had to ask. "Yea, but, Bobby...why can't you sleep in the nude? Is it me?"
Bobby sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Do you...really want to know?"
