AN: As promised. Picks up immediately after "The Fun in Fundraiser." Couple of odes to my favorite writer in here, too, if you can spot them.
%%%%%
He loved his son. Really he did. There was nothing he would change about his life that would ever mean not having Kelly in it.
"Nick," Adalind said, bent over the dresser, Nick balls deep behind her, working off three weeks of mounting sexual frustration. He had already brought Adalind to a peak twice, and now he was after his own reward.
"Nick," she said again and he grunted distractedly in response, adjusting his grip on her hips. "Nick, stop." He opened his eyes, sure he hadn't heard her correctly.
"What? Is it too rough? Am I hurting you?"
"No, I think—I think I hear Kelly."
"I think it's just the wind," Nick said, closing his eyes again, rocking in and out of her.
"Nick!"
He paused for a moment, listening, tuning his Grimm hearing towards the next room. He heard the springs of the crib mattress as Kelly moved about, definitely awake, and Nick muttered a silent curse, and resumed his rhythm, albeit at a quicker pace.
"I think he's waking up," Adalind said, and Nick took a firm hold of her hips. "We should probably stop," she added.
"Are you kidding me?" he cried in a whisper, mindful of the presence next door, and she glanced back at him in the mirror, her face red, and sweaty, and satisfied (twice!) and Nick's horrified of what she was suggesting.
"Are you close?" she asked him, and Nick redoubled his efforts and focused on meeting his endgame much sooner than he had planned. He was so close.
"God, Nick, easy," she said, and Nick slowed and eased up the pace, offering a soft (but hurried) kiss on her shoulder.
"Sorry," he said, and she nodded and panted, her grip on the dresser edge slipping a little with sweat.
Nick registered a tearful, "Mama?" from his son that didn't go unheard from Adalind either.
"Nick, he's up," she said, and Nick resumed the pace, but not the force, of earlier.
Five more minutes, Kelly, give daddy five more minutes with mommy.
"Mama?" he said louder.
Fine, just…one minute, give me one minute, I can get there.
"Nick, we need to stop. He needs me."
"He's okay, he can—one minute, all I need is one minute," but he was losing his concentration, and his rhythm, and then he became distracted by the sound of Kelly crying. Loudly. Wailing for his mother and, once, Nick.
"No, Nick, he's crying," Adalind said, pulling away and standing back up. Nick slipped out of her, unsatisfied, and Adalind hurriedly righted her dress enough to be presentable for their son, and Nick watched her cast him an apologetic smile and corresponding look as she went to tend to Kelly.
Nick stared after her, three weeks of teasing and taunting, the sexual frustration and tension thick between them, then tonight nearly abated, before it was back again with a vengeance.
He stared down at himself, as though he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe it. Another minute, that's all it would have taken. One more beautiful minute with Adalind, and he could have been satisfied. He could have been whole.
Instead, he was looking at another cold shower. Another instance of finishing by himself.
He had really gotten rather sick of those.
"Nick?" he heard Adalind call.
Kelly was still wailing loudly, perhaps even more so now that his mother was with him, and he could lay claim to her sympathy, perhaps a few stabs of guilt for making him wait.
"Is he okay?" he asked.
"I think he's running a fever," Adalind replied. "Will you get me the thermometer out of the bathroom?"
Nick stared down at the unfinished business staring back up at him and correctly assumed it was going to remain that way for the foreseeable future. Nick sighed.
"Sure."
He loved his son, but really, he had the worst timing.
%%%%%
"How's he doing?" Nick asked the next morning. Adalind had been up off and on with Kelly for the rest of the night as his fever continued and Kelly grew more restless and irritable.
Nick looked at his son, cheeks red, and the miserable demeanor of his whole face and felt guilty for his rather uncharitable thoughts the night before. Kelly couldn't help being sick and needing his parents. Of course he wanted his mother, what child didn't when they felt lousy?
"Hey buddy," Nick said, sweeping his hand over his son's head and his baby fine brown hair, and Kelly murmured an irritable, unintelligible reply.
"He's doing a little better," Adalind said, pressing a kiss against their son's cheek, cradling him in her arms. She looked up at Nick, dressed, badged, holstered and ready to shoot someone.
"I'm sorry about last night," she said and Nick shook his head.
"It's all right," because, really? What else could you say? It wasn't her fault, it wasn't Kelly's fault, but that still didn't change the fact that Nick felt like punching a hole through the wall. "We can pick up where we left off when he gets to feeling better," Nick added, and Adalind nodded after a moment, looking down at Kelly, and placing another kiss on his cheek.
"My poor baby," she said.
"I'll live," Nick replied and she gave him a look with a hint of a smile.
"My big baby," she said, grabbing at his shirt before he moved away and pulled him to her. The kiss was nice, but it didn't really help anything.
"Did you-?" she asked, curiously.
"I took care of it," he said stiffly and pulled away.
"Now I really am sorry," she said, and she might very well be, but he'd appreciate less laughter in her voice the next time she said it. He nodded and moved away.
He had been through dry spells before. Several sadly much longer than three weeks or even three months. He had obviously lived through them.
Except this hadn't exactly been a dry spell. He wasn't single, or between breakups and makeups. This had been flirting, and teasing, and anticipation building, and insinuating with a woman he had found very desirable from the first time he saw her; whom he had lived with and loved for the last year and half, whom he shared a child with; and whom had finally, after three weeks of games and upping the ante, been his for the taking last night.
"My little Kell-bell was just a miserable guy last night," Adalind said, looking down at their son.
"He wasn't the only one," Nick replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee in a to-go thermos.
"Yes, it was a bad night for Burkhardts, wasn't it, Kelly? Daddy was miserable, too," she said to her son. Kelly didn't look like he much cared about his dad's misery. Nick supposed at eighteen months he couldn't fault him for his lack of empathy.
"Poor little guy just cried himself to sleep," Adalind said to Nick.
"I know the feeling," Nick muttered, fishing the lid to the thermos out of the cupboard.
Adalind gave him another look, before turning back to Kelly. "Mommy will help get you all better and then mommy will make daddy all better too."
"Another minute and daddy would have been just fine," Nick retorted.
"Maybe daddy doesn't want mommy's help. Maybe mommy can take a spa day and go out with her friends and daddy can have his minute alone," she added, flashing him a warning look this time.
"Well, he's had plenty of those recently," Nick returned. "You staying home with him," Nick asked her, pointing to his son, though it was apparent she was. Adalind nodded, and Nick grabbed his cell phone and keys off the table in the entry. He stuffed his phone in his pocket and then walked over to Adalind and Kelly. He planted a kiss on his son's head, eliciting a fussy protest.
"I'm not happy either," Nick said, and then turned to Adalind. "Love you," he told her and leaned over to kiss her. She grabbed his shirt again and held him to her, mouth warm and apologetic, and Nick enjoyed the sympathy more this time until Kelly began to fuss more loudly.
"Okay, okay," Nick said and pulled away.
"Love you, too," she said to him and he flashed a smile and pulled down the gate to the elevator behind him.
%%%%%
"Oh, no. Didn't I tell you to take care of that?"
"You did," Nick replied.
"What happened?"
"Kelly happened," Nick said.
"Oh."
"See this is what happens when you have a kid. You're in the heat of the moment, everything's right, and your son starts crying for his mother when you're two minutes away from having a moment of clarity."
"Mm-hmm."
Nick sighed and came to a stand beside Hank. Three bodies lay around them and Nick surveyed the scene with another sigh. Triple homicide. Great.
"He okay?"
"He's running a fever," Nick replied.
"Not the only one a little hot, huh?" Hank said with a grin and Nick gave him a dirty look.
"He wasn't the only one crying last night either," Nick said, and Hank snickered. "What've we got?"
"Victim number one is over here," Wu said, and pointed to a body on their far right. Hank and Nick dutifully stepped that way, and Nick pulled out a pair of blue latex gloves from his coat pocket and knelt down to examine the body closer.
"Madison Riley, age 22, student at the Institute of Culinary arts. Portion of her face and hand chewed off," Wu said, and Hank grimaced. Nick surveyed the body closely, looking at the clothing. She was missing a shoe. Chased by her attacker? Nick felt through the pocket of her pants but came up empty.
"Cell phone or purse or wallet?" he asked Wu and Wu shook his head.
"Haven't recovered anything from the scene."
"How'd you make the ID?" Hank asked, kneeling down on the other side and observing her face.
"She was featured in the local up and coming talents in Portland Arts and Culture magazine. One of the witnesses recognized her. Found a copy with her picture," Wu produced a rolled up magazine from his inside coat pocket. He unrolled it and flipped to the page and held it out for Hank and Nick to see.
"Yeah, that's her," Hank confirmed.
"Next victim is Reagan Moore, age 20, also a student at the culinary arts. We identified her via fingerprints from an arrest at a protest rally against meat," Wu said, flashing his eyebrows upward at Nick. Nick moved over to the second body noting not only was her shoe missing but the whole foot. It looked like it had been chewed off.
"We recover the foot?"
"Haven't found it. Crime techs are still looking. Took a while to secure the scene," Wu explained and nodded his head to a rather large assembled group of gawkers. Nick stood and turned his attention to them, Hank only casting them a cursory glance before turning his attention to the third body.
"Who's this?" Hank asked, looking at their male victim. What was left of his face made it difficult to determine his age (not to mention ID) and ethnicity, but Nick thought he might have been about five years older than their other two victims, putting him in his mid to late twenties, and Indonesian, perhaps, but he wasn't sure. All his appendages were intact, but he had marks on his body where it appeared teeth had dug in and tore the flesh away. Nick stared down at the mess, and sighed inwardly.
Wesen, definitely. Mauvais dente? He looked closely at the bite marks, his mind flashing back to years ago and the case he worked before the FBI took over. When his mother was still alive. It looked remarkably similar, but Nick thought he would see if he still had any information that had survived Juliette and the trailer fire to be sure.
"We haven't identified the third victim. Male, perhaps mid-twenties to mid-thirties. Waiting on dental records. Prints weren't in the system," Wu added and Nick nodded.
Hank went through the pockets of their third victim while Nick went through the second. Both came up empty of any personal effects. No cell phone, wallet or purse or ID.
"No wallet and phone. Robbery? Victims fought back?" Nick looked closely at their hands and fingers. "No defensive wounds on this one." The one missing a part of her hand he couldn't say for sure.
"Damn excessive for a robbery, but we've seen worse," Hank said. "Pursued the victims you think?" Hank asked, pointing at the feet, or foot rather, and the missing shoe on the other victim.
"Appeared maybe to chase after the women," Nick agreed, and stared at the male victim. "What do you make of him?" Nick said, pointing to the male. "Think he tried to help them and got caught up in whatever it was?"
Hank shrugged. "Maybe. Let's see if we can get an ID and we can go from there. What do you think it was that did this to him?"
"Nothing good," Nick said with a grimace, thinking again of the mauvais dente.
"Obviously," Hank retorted. "Let's talk to the witnesses."
Nick and Hank spent the next three hours talking to the nearly dozen people who claimed to have seen the victims. The stories varied widely in many details and Nick and Hank compared notes over lunch at street vendor, choking down a quick bite and a drink.
"Why so many different details?" Hank wondered. "What a mess. It's going to take a while to sort through everyone's story."
"How many really saw it, and how many are claiming they did?"
"It's going to take a while to sort this out," Hank said with a resigned sigh, and Nick nodded in agreement, stuffing the rest of his lunch into his mouth.
"Mywup," he agreed.
%%%%%%
He raised the gate up on the elevator lift tiredly, spotting Adalind across the room, sprawled out on her side, lying on the couch, surrounded by papers, toys, and a pile of laundry she must have been working on. He looked for his son but didn't see him in the main room of the loft. She stirred when he slid the gate back down.
"Wake up, sleeping beauty," he said, and she groaned and stretched, and wrinkled her nose when a pile of washcloths perched unsteadily on the back of the couch toppled on top of her.
"What time is it?" she asked sleepily, and Nick felt his blood thrum as his eyes registered how appealing she looked.
"Uh, about six thirty," he replied, unclipping his badge and tossing it and his keys on the counter. Adalind blinked a few times, still slow to come to awareness and slowly registered the linens scattered around her. She sighed and began to pick at each one, lining them up on the back of the couch.
"How's Kelly?" he asked and she shook her head.
"Still running a fever," she replied, frowning. "He's been fussy all day. How about you? How was your day?"
"Long," Nick said shortly.
"Hmm," Adalind said, closing her eyes. She opened them again in surprise when Nick joined her on the couch, mouth pressed against her neck and collarbone as he leaned his body over her.
"Nick," she murmured, but she didn't refuse him and he pressed his advantage and slid a hand under her shirt, mouth finding hers and he enjoyed a few quiet moments with his live-in love, hands sliding to just under the swell of her breasts.
"How long has he been down?" Nick asked her when they broke apart, and he realized when her warm hands made contact with the base of his spine his weren't the only ones exploring.
"Mm, I guess a couple of hours," she said, looking at him, almost crossing her eyes to do so.
"Hm," he said, pulling away a little. "We could probably get away with a quickie," he suggested, and Adalind gave him a wry look. "At this point I'll take what I can get as long as it doesn't mean I'm doing it by myself."
"Poor baby," she said and kissed him.
They made out on the couch some more, Nick working himself into a fever pitch when he heard Kelly start to fuss.
"Dammit," he muttered disappointedly, realizing they had gotten carried away and he was sporting a nice tent in his pants now.
"Should have been quicker with the quickie. I need to check him," Adalind said, pulling away, lips bruised and swollen. Nick nodded.
"Right. Of course." He shifted slightly, moving to the side to allow Adalind to slide out from under him, and she ran a hand over his face and left to tend to Kelly.
"I'm just going to, you know, take a shower," he said, getting carefully to his feet.
%%%%%%
"You're never going to get a little brother or sister if you keep interrupting your mom and I," Nick said to his son, who was lying on his back in the middle of Nick and Adalind's bed. Kelly sucked on George, not at all concerned with the empty threat, his face and cheeks still red and sweaty with fever. He had been an irritable little shit all night, but Nick had a hard time holding against him. He clearly wanted to play and be his normal self it just wasn't working, and the resulting lethargy and crankiness pulled more at Nick's sympathy than it did his impatience.
Nick was also lying on the bed, though on his side where he could look at Kelly, while Adalind went about her nightly routine before joining them. Kelly turned his attention to his mom, curling up against her when Adalind pulled him to her body, pressing a kiss against her son's inflamed forehead and smoothing back his hair. She looked across Kelly to Nick. She was worried about their son, and Nick found the motherly concern for their child appealing.
She was an outstanding mother.
It was a turn on really, how much she loved their baby, how she delighted in him and cared for him, and Adalind caught Nick's eye again, and apparently his train of thought, and her eyes glittered in the dim light.
Nick sighed, realizing how fruitless pursuing that train of thought was in light of their present company. He rolled on his back and settled against his pillow, Kelly's foot kicking against his shoulder, and closed his eyes.
%%%%%
He awoke from a particularly enticing dream early, damned early, with, of course, a hard on and no hope of alleviating it. The bed was empty, and he could hear Adalind bustling about somewhere in the kitchen, probably fixing something for Kelly, and he closed his eyes and tried to recapture the last images of his dream. Adalind doing some delightfully unspeakable things to him, and his erection throbbed painfully, and he made a face as he contemplated finishing it.
Honestly, he thought he might be getting carpal tunnel. This was becoming a medical situation. He thought if he voiced that thought though, Adalind might start laughing at him. Either that or she might smack him.
Christ, the image of her smacking him didn't even do anything to diminish the steady throb, if anything he thought it might have intensified.
"Are you awake?" she asked, and Nick mumbled a passably sleepy affirmative. "I think Kelly's finally down for a while," she said to him, joining him in bed, and Nick opened one eye to look at her.
"His fever's not abating though," she said worriedly and looked at him. "What?"
"You're beautiful when you're all concerned for our son's well-being," Nick said, eyeing her thoughtfully.
"You must be joking," she said. "Now?"
"What? I can't help it if I find you ridiculously sexy."
"Uh-huh," she said tiredly. He wondered how long she had been up with Kelly before Nick had awoken. He was still rock hard and debating how sensitive it might be to suggest they enjoy the reprieve when she was so obviously exhausted. "You can't be serious," she said. "I look a mess."
He glanced up, noticing the dark circles and puffy eyes, the hair, that, well, frankly, could stand to be washed, but he'd seen worse, really, when she had been hit by a particularly vicious bout of the flu and had gone a whole week without showering. She was wearing a sweatshirt that had some unappealing stains and a pair of ugly grey flannel pajama pants and Nick thought, well, it's not like he couldn't rise above it, so to speak.
"You look beautiful," he insisted, sliding over to her pillow and Adalind sighed.
"I'm tired, Nick," she said. "I've been up all night."
"Right," he said, closing his eyes, his dick still throbbing with want. "Of course. I know you're tired." He kissed her cheek and suppressed a sigh.
"I'll be quick," he said after a moment, and Adalind snorted against her pillow.
"That's a selling point for you now?" she muttered. "Nick," she said with a sigh of her own, rolling on her back to look at him. "Fine," she relented, "but don't expect me to do anything."
Nick was kissing her before she had finished, eagerly coming to life as he slid his body over hers, his erection pressing into her hip. He feverishly worked his mouth against hers before drifting lower, to the bones sticking out from her collarbone. His hands found her breasts under her top and he played and pulled against the nipples, and he felt Adalind begin to respond after a moment. She bent forward, allowing him to pull the shirt over her head, static electricity cracking around them, her hair sticking to her face, but Nick's mouth found her breasts and he worked on divesting her of her pants as he swirled a tongue around her nipple.
Adalind jumped when something rattled loudly next to them on the nightstand, but Nick was already working the other breast and had starting pulling her pajama bottoms down.
"Nick, your phone," she said, and Nick released the nipple he had been teasing to cover her mouth again.
"Let it ring," he said, after a moment, and a few seconds later it quit. It started up almost immediately, just as his hand slipped between her legs.
"Nick," she said, and Nick shook his head.
"It's okay," he replied, but it wasn't. The fact it was ringing at…five o'clock in the morning…wasn't a good sign. Maybe it was press, trying to get a statement on the bodies they had found, he reasoned, and he didn't need or want to talk to them anyway. "Probably just some reporter," he said distractedly, trying to focus on getting Adalind wet and ready for him. His phone quit and was mercifully silent.
Sixty seconds later, as Nick was preparing to slide into her, it started up again and she pressed a hand against his chest, staying him.
"I think you need to get that," she told him and Nick shook his head stubbornly. "Nick! It might be Hank calling you," and he sighed loudly in frustration. Actually, he was pretty certain it was Hank calling him. Or Wu.
Goddammit.
"I'm sorry," she told him, fingers running lightly over his cheek and jaw and Nick flopped down on his side of the bed and snatched the phone off the nightstand irritably.
"What?"
%%%%%
Another day, another Wesen wreaking havoc on Portland.
It was day three of Adalind staying home with Kelly and day twenty-four of Nick's sexless existence. Really, he told himself, twenty-four days didn't sound so bad. It was like a cleanse, he reasoned. He was getting healthy, clearing his mind and body of any impurities or whatever.
"Wow, what happened to you?" Monroe asked him when he saw him.
"It's what's not happening to me," Nick said and Monroe furrowed his brow in confusion.
"Ohh-kay," Monroe replied, shutting the door to the spice shop behind him and Hank. Monroe glanced at Hank questioningly and Hank shook his head.
"You don't want to know," Hank replied. "Although," he said thoughtfully after a moment, "it's kind of a funny story."
"No it isn't," Nick replied.
"It is from my side." Hank bit down another smirk as Nick glared.
"You said you wanted to take a look at the books," Monroe prompted, eyes going from Hank to Nick, and Nick's thunderous look.
"Yeah," Nick said, glad to focus on something other than the fact he was sex deprived and starting to get twitchy from it.
"Okay, soooo, what are we looking for?"
%%%%%%
They spent a couple of hours reading what material they had, what remained after Juliette's torch session, Nick finally able to focus on work without distraction. Wu joined, bringing lunch with him, and Nick chewed thoughtfully as he read and reread the mauvais dente entry, mind whirling. It was so close to what they were dealing with, five bodies now, instead of two, but something didn't quite match up. He took another bite of his food and realized it was now just Monroe and Nick downstairs.
"Where'd Hank and Wu go?" he asked Monroe and Monroe looked up at him.
"Uhh, back to the station. You didn't hear them tell you that?" Nick shook his head. "You said okay," Monroe added, and Nick frowned, not remembering the conversation.
"What's going on with you?" Monroe said after a moment. "You seem tense and distracted."
"I've got five dead bodies and no suspect and no ID on two of them and the captain breathing down my neck to make some progress."
"No, I mean, sure, that's probably some of it, but that's not all of it. Is this about your little contest with Adalind?"
"No," Nick replied as he frowned and rolled his head in annoyance. "I won that," he added. "Sort of."
"Really? That's rather hard to be—" Monroe cut short his comment when he registered the dark look Nick was giving him. "So if you won, why haven't you claimed your prize, so to speak?"
"I've tried to, believe me. The universe is conspiring against me." Monroe stared at him.
"Ohh-kay."
"Kelly's been sick and Adalind's been busy taking care of him, so…"
"You've been taking care of yourself?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Makes two of us," Monroe commented and Nick threw a look at him.
"Let's just focus on the case," Nick said, getting back to the books.
"Sure," Monroe agreed.
The both researched in silence for a few moments.
"Seriously, though, I think you should make taking care of that a priority," Monroe said a minute later.
"You think I'm not trying to?"
%%%%%%
"How's Kelly?" he asked when he got home after another fruitless day of dead ends.
"I made an appointment with the doctor tomorrow, but now his fever is finally gone," Adalind said with a sigh, hair in a messy bun and what appeared to be sweatpants and a t-shirt on. If you would have asked Nick two years ago whether Adalind Schade owned a pair of sweatpants he would have given a resounding no (actually, he probably would have given a resounding who gives a fuck?), although now that he looked closely, he thought he saw the faded and well-washed lettering of Portland Police Academy on the leg of the pants. Apparently Nick's sweats from the Academy were the uniform of the day when dealing with a sick Kelly.
"Those my sweat pants?" he asked, but now that he was focused on them they clearly were.
"Oh, yeah, I borrowed them, hope you don't mind," she said distractedly. "I need to do laundry." She moved past him to the kitchen where she began to pull out ingredients for their dinner, a rather unappetizing stir fry from the looks of it.
"What?" she asked with an edge, noticing his look.
"I'm not in the mood for stir fry," he said. She sighed and laid the bag down on the counter.
"Well, what would you rather have?" she asked him in the same tone and Nick's eyes narrowed, detecting a note of aggravation in there. She leaned a hand against the counter and looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised impatiently. He opened the fridge and peered at its surprisingly meager contents and then looked back at Adalind.
"I need to go grocery shopping, too, but I haven't had the opportunity," she snapped. "I've been home for the last few days taking care of your sick son."
There seemed a particular emphasis on your he noted, and he frowned, feeling his own aggravation rise at the implication.
"You volunteered to stay home with him," Nick pointed out and her blue eyes flashed angrily, "so why are you mad at me about it? I can't help the fact he's been sick all week."
"Oh, and I can?" she said, opening the freezer and throwing the bag of stir fry against the back wall. The door to it slammed shut. "Is that what you're saying?"
"No," Nick said slowly, as though talking to a child and she gave him a flinty eyed look. "Are you mad at me because I'm not staying home with him? He's sick, you always want to be home with him and he always wants you," Nick said.
"It would have been nice if you would have made the offer," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I'm working a quintuple murder!"
"You're always working," she retorted, shaking her head and moving away from him.
"Excuse me?" he said, not believing his ears. "How the hell else do you expect me to afford food, and the house payment, and the ridiculous tuition on that daycare he goes to?" Nick shouted.
She rolled her eyes, infuriating Nick more, but after the frustration with the case, and the last three and a half weeks he was looking for a target to unload on and he had found it, in the form of a pretty blonde former Hexenbiest, who always took the expressway to profound irritation to Nick.
"I can't deal with you like this," she said, shaking her head.
"Like what?" he echoed.
"This. You're just frustrated and angry and looking for a fight."
"Well whose fault is that?" he snapped.
"You're blaming me?"
"If I'm frustrated and angry history says you're generally at the root of it, and guess what, you are."
"Oh my god, this is about you not having had sex? I thought this was about your case!"
"Oh," Nick said, the wind momentarily taken out of his sails.
"God, take your damn pants off," she said angrily, yanking her (his) sweatpants down, leaving her just in her underwear. She kicked them off and he watched them slide across the floor a few yards away from them.
"Huh?" he said.
"Take them off, hurry up," she snapped and he stared at her. She huffed a breath and worked his belt roughly and Nick watched her, his mind still processing what was going on exactly.
"Wait, what?" he said. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to make being in your presence bearable again," she retorted, fighting with the button on his jeans. "A little help!" she said and Nick robotically did as she asked.
"Are we just going to fuck right here in the kitchen against the fridge?" he asked stupidly.
"We might if you'd get with the program faster. Hurry up, I don't have all day, Kelly's liable to wake up any moment." She huffed another irritated breath and batted his hands away. A moment later she had unzipped and roughly pulled the denim down, the underwear too, and was firmly stroking him with her hand. He tried to quell the pleasure he felt, given the circumstances, as he glanced around, thinking he could put her on the counter, but the angle would be hard and he pondered his options and determined either against the fridge or the floor before she dropped to her knees and wrapped her mouth around him.
"Gugh," he moaned, pulling his attention back to her, hips thrusting automatically. She wrapped a hand around the base of his dick to steady him as she sucked and licked and he lost all awareness of anything but the feel of her hot mouth on him. Her other hand stroked along his length, and, once, tugged gently on his balls, and he felt his dick tighten and moaned again, hand sliding behind her head, holding her mouth to him.
"Yessss," he hissed, feeling ready to come within minutes. She eased her hold on him a little, allowing him to thrust against her mouth at the pace he wanted, and he moaned and panted, before she took control again, licking and sucking and staring at him with fiery eyes. She let go of him and stood after another minute, Nick ready to climax, and ruined the whole mood with a bossy, "So did you decide where you're going to have me yet?"
He grabbed the fabric of her T-shirt and yanked her to him, and jammed his hands down her underwear.
"You ready?" he sniped back, but his hands found her slick and wet and he pulled them away, and pushed her underwear down. She stepped out of them and kicked them away too, a few feet away from her sweat pants and Nick yanked her shirt off over head, revealing bare breasts and enticingly hard and rosy nipples.
"You like this," he said.
"Hurry up," she replied and Nick frowned, annoyed at being rushed. He turned her and pressed her warm breasts against the cold steel of the refrigerator, Adalind gasping, and she gasped again when he entered her a second later. He stilled, afraid he might hurt her if he got too carried away.
"What are you waiting for?" she asked after a moment, in that same commanding tone from earlier. "This is your chance to stop being such an asshole. You'd better hurry up and take it or it might be another night finding clarity on your own."
He thrust hard then, and she moaned, sounding entirely turned on and the sound made Nick start pumping into her in a frenzy, slowly at the first handful of thrusts, then rapidly gaining momentum, Adalind gripping the handle of the freezer, one hand braced against the door for dear life, egging him on.
"Faster," she said. "Oh, god, harder, Nick. Harder," she breathed and Nick answered, balls slapping against her. Their heavy breaths filled the air, Adalind moaning and sighing, Nick grunting with exertion, both sweaty and sticky, and Nick realized he was still wearing most of his clothes.
Nick pulled out suddenly, turning her to face him, needing to see her, taste her mouth. He kissed her hard, pressing her back into the door of the fridge again, and slipped into her again with another firm thrust and she hooked a leg around him, and Nick thrust against her roughly, mouth fused with hers. He found her bundle of nerves between them, trying to fondle her clit as he fucked her, but their bodies kept getting in the way, and Nick was too far gone to want to slow their momentum.
He pressed his hands instead against her breasts, tweaking the nipples, mouth following, before releasing one, Adalind's head banging against the door behind her as she moaned. Her hand slid through his damp hair and she opened her eyes to look at his.
"Nick," she said, and he felt his dick jump at her look, her words, and knew euphoria wasn't far from realization. He hefted her other leg, gripping both thighs as he continued to rock into her, Adalind staring at him with eyes so dark blue they had to be midnight, wanton and desiring. He felt his body respond, the first pulse of his release and he groaned loud, spilling into her, nearly blinded as he did so.
"Goddamn," he moaned in pleasure, still thrusting, burying his head against her neck, lips tasting the salt on her skin, panting heavily in her ear. He released one thigh, and moved the hand freed up to her clit again. He played with her, stroking erratically in and out of her and felt her start to respond as he emptied, her own climax exploding moments later. He stilled a few moments after, coming back to himself, her, and opened his eyes.
She was still pressed up against the freezer, where he had fucked her rather thoroughly. The metal was no longer cold where she had been pressed against it, and he could see an ass-shaped smear in the stainless steel when he pulled them away from it. He glanced up a couple of feet and thought he saw some nipple and breast smears, too.
"What?" she said breathily, gripping him tightly as she tried to find her footing, but her legs were a bit shaky and he wrapped an arm around her waist to support her and held her close to him.
He shook his head and pointed to the freezer door. She looked, eyebrows knitting in confusion. "What?"
"I'm never going to be able to get something out of the freezer without remembering your ass pressed against it. Of course, the ass print does help keep it fresh," and Adalind's brows tightened before she gasped again, finally seeing it.
"Nick!" she said, laughing.
"The nipple prints are kind of hot, too," he added, mouth finding hers again. "How about I take you to bed and finish you?" he asked her.
"The way it's been going lately you think you're going to be that lucky twice?"
"I feel my luck's changing," he said with a hint of a smile.
"Hmm," she said.
"I love you naked and sweaty," he added, looking her over.
"Hmm," she said again with a smirk. "You're still much too dressed for my tastes," she added, looking him over.
"Whose fault is that?" he asked.
"Mine, I suppose?" she said, and Nick shrugged, stroking and teasing her breasts, pressing the hardened nipple against his palm, loving he way they felt in his hands, the way they fit, before sliding them down and gripping the rounded cheeks of her ass.
"Somebody was impatient," he pointed out.
"Somebody was being an asshole," she retorted. "It was either fuck you or kill you. I've tried the killing you, thought I'd go this way instead," she said with a tiny smirk.
"Hmm," he replied, "excellent choice, and almost as fun," and grinned at her look of mock outrage.
"Almost as satisfying, too," she returned and smiled cheekily at his look.
He palmed a cheek firmly, pulling her against him, his body starting to stir again, and he met her eyes again, a gorgeous shade of glittery topaz and he felt his heart swell with how much he loved her but he focused on her words, and the game they were playing and allowed a smile to play at his lips.
"I think I should take you to bed and make you regret saying that," he said, and she smiled, affection in her eyes, before something occurred to her.
"Oh, before I forget, Valencia called to remind us next week's our week to help with the concession stand fundraiser for Kelly's daycare."
"I'm definitely going to make you regret saying that."
%%%%%