DISCLAIMER: The Plum series, and all of it's characters, unfortunately, belong to the brilliant Janet Evanovich. If Ranger were mine, I'd never let him outside. But that's just me…
Warnings: Smut. May not be that great. It's my first fic and first time writing smut. R&R please.
It was nearly 2 a.m. when Ricardo Carlos 'Ranger' Manoso finally walked into his seventh floor apartment in Rangeman's Haywood building. He had been spent the entire day trudging through paperwork- a necessary evil as head of the company, but nonetheless, mindlessly monotonous. By the time he had finally finished, he was ready to pull his hair out. Instead of being able to work off some of this pent up frustration he had been carrying around for the past four days on the streets, he had poured over client contracts, employee transfers and taxes. Though he was not a greatly expressive man, he found himself suppressing a shudder at the recollection of his day's activities. Shoving the unpleasant thoughts aside, he told himself that tomorrow, or rather later today, was another day, and his agenda wouldn't be quite so clerical. After a quick shower, he stripped and slid into bed. Into the sheets that his Babe was so fond of. Tonight, like many nights before, she was his last conscious thought before sleep overtook him.
Some distance across town, Stephanie Plum, bounty hunter and typical Jersey girl, was having another restless night. She had spent the day looking for two high-bond skips and three not-so-lucrative skips, all of which she failed to capture. Things were not looking good. Then on top of it all, she had managed to pick up another stalker.
When she had come out of the Victoria's Secret store after some retail therapy, she had found a note on her windshield: Who were you buying those sinful things for, Stephanie? I don't like you with another man. You're mine and mine alone. Don't you know that yet? Despite her tingling Spidey sense, she had shrugged it off and continued on her day. But then she had come home to another note – this time on her bed: I'm through waiting for you. I'm going to MAKE you mine now. And no one can stop it. Not even that cop of yours or your notorious sbounty hunter friend.
Since then she'd been restive, unable to shake the feeling that she was being watched. Then a few minutes ago, she thought she'd heard someone on her fire escape. It was a calm summer night, so the wind couldn't be held accountable. She began to panic, debating whether she should call Ranger. He'd know what to do. He always did. When the rattling noise came again, she didn't stop to think. She grabbed Rex's cage and her car keys, and ran out of the building.
Ramming herself into her car, locking her doors, she drove on autopilot. Anywhere but there. Anywhere but the tiny apartment, tainted by the memories of so many stalkers and violence from any angle. Less than ten minutes later, she found herself on Haywood. In front of the Rangeman building. She could barely remember getting there, but suddenly, there was no other place she'd rather be.
Pulling into one of Ranger's slots, she got out of the car, heading towards the elevator. On second thought, she doubled back to wave to the cameras that fed into the control room, lest anyone think something was wrong. Something is wrong, the voice in her head whispered. Yes, but we don't need everyone to know that, do we?, the other voice corrected. Stephanie agreed. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. It had become one of her mottos lately, and it was working.
Opening the door to Ranger's apartment, Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe. There was no way that anyone would harm her here. With the weight suddenly lifted off her shoulders, she discovered she was exhausted. She would just rest here tonight, and would be gone before Ranger came back in the morning. Yes, that would work. It had to.
But when she got to the bedroom, Steph discovered another surprise. Ranger was lying naked in bed, the sheets shoved to one side, one hand lightly splayed across the pillow and the other curling in a wonderfully erotic place. She stood there for a few moments, just reveling in the grace he exuded, even asleep. She kicked off her shoes and pants, and slid onto the bed, crawling closer to him so that his warmth enveloped her. When her chest made contact with his arm, he sighed softly, distinctly muttering "Babe". The simple word melted her heart, assuring her she had made the right choice coming here and that now she could sleep.
A few hours later, Steph woke up to soft feathery kisses being strewn across her face and neck and a very warm, very happy male body next to her. Stirring slightly, Stephanie moaned as the kisses moved downwards, and the male body pressed even closer to her. Only one man felt that good- only one man could make her shiver just from his kisses- Ranger. Opening her eyes, she found herself staring into a pair of molten chocolate eyes and what looked like miles of glowing mocha skin. He was gorgeous, she thought to herself as her eyes danced over his slight five o'clock shadow and his subtly upturned lips. Kissable lips, she thought as she followed through, delivering a gentle kiss to his lips before he pulled back to speak.
"Not that I'm complaining Babe, but why are you here?", Ranger queried.
She hesitated before answering and he saw it. "Be honest Babe", he prompted.
Sighing, she started off with "I was scared…" and proceeded to tell him about the notes and the noises. When she got to the part about driving away from the apartment in the middle of the morning, she realized somewhere during her story he had wrapped his arms around her, and that now they tightened. His face was blank, but she could feel the tension radiating from him.
Not sure what to make of that, she apologized. "I'm sorry Ranger. I'm not telling you this expecting you to solve my problems for me, but I just didn't know where else to go."
During her apology though, he had vehemently been shaking his head. "No. No, Babe. This is not something you have to deal with alone. I'm always here for you. No matter what- any time of day, anywhere, anything. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you. In fact, I don't know if I'd be able to live at all," he responded.
Stephanie stilled. "What are you saying Ranger?". She thought it best not to get her hopes up, if he was merely referring to their friendship, but words like that, from a man like Ranger, sounded like more than friendship.
Ranger's ESP must have been working overtime, because he shot back with a grin, "Of course I mean our friendship Babe. But I also mean, our love. I love you so much, and I'm so sorry for sending you back to Morelli. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I've slowly realized that I'd rather have some semblance of a relationship with you, than nothing. Can you accept that Babe? Will you give us a shot? I want this to work."
Stephanie was ready to agree to anything he might have said to her at that moment, but then- then he said the magic word, "Please Babe", and any fears she had simply melted away.
Stephanie leaned up, grabbed his face and kissed him. As always, it was a sensory overload- a melding of tongues and teeth and stubble under her hands as she caressed his jaw. She untangled her fingers from his hair and pushed him down to the bed, but before she could do anything, Ranger had flipped them so that he was on top.
"This time is all about you Babe. Just lie back and let me pleasure you. I want to hear you scream my name when you come, over and over," he whispered in her ear before silencing her moan with his own lips.
He captured her hands and held them above her head, trailing kisses down her neck, across her collarbone. Moving down her body, he took the time to lavish each region with affection, desire, and above all, love. She could feel it every time their glances met, and it caught her breath in her throat. When he stripped her t-shirt and pulled one nipple into his mouth, she was undone. She cried out, burning for him. "More," she cried out, "I want more".
"You'll get it Babe. But not before I've had my way with you. It's gonna be good. Long. And slow. And hot. And heavy", he said, delighting at the way her body arched at his words. He laughed, a deep and seductive sound that flowed over her body and heightened her arousal even more, if possible.
And then he went south, and she was shattering all over again. He was relentless as he drove her to orgasm, two, three times. Only when she was trembling in his arms and unable to speak did he move up her body and slide himself, excruciatingly slowly into her. Inch by inch, until he was fully in, and then he was pulling out. She whimpered at the loss of contact, and then they both groaned as he began to thrust, deliberately languid. As her nails dug into his ass and his thrusts began to quicken, she felt him shake. He buried his head in her shoulder, and she felt her orgasm building. Five more thrusts and he brought them screaming. She dug fingers into his back and he bit her sensitized throat, marking her.
When they finally came down and were back in their own skin, she heard him whisper in Spanish, Mi querida, mi mujer, mi amor, mi vida. She might not have known what the words meant, but the sentiment? It was clear as day- he loved her. And she knew without a doubt, that she loved him.
He woke up first, marveling at the woman in his arms. Her quiet strength, her fierce passion, her loyalty to her friends, but most of all, her love for him. She saw him when no one else did, and she trusted him with her life. She was his world, and he was in love. His mind flashed back to two days ago when he had been in Celia's house, listening to her play Enrique Iglesias' "Enamorado Por Primera Vez", and he'd realized how true the song rang for him and Stephanie. He did fall in love the very first time he saw her walk through those café doors, and had been steadily falling since then. But it was ok, because now, they would be together. No Morelli, who she had broken up with for good two weeks ago; she could work for Rangeman if she wanted; and as for the stalkers, well- that would stop soon enough. She was his now, and nothing, or no one touched what was his. She was his sweetheart, his woman, his love, his life. And she was here to stay.
If you'd like the lyrics to the song Ranger was thinking of, you can find a translated version here:
Enjoy.
