A/N: A birthday gift for H. Because in my part of the world it's still your day.
A/N 2: Let's say – for the sake of this little piece – neither Gina nor Josh are in the picture. Then you can see this as kind of an episode tag for 3x05. Oh, and don't go looking for any plot, it's rated M for a reason. Right, and props to you, babe, for the word suggestion.
Beware, it's pretty cliché-y. But don't worry, it isn't the most explicit porn either.
Catalyst
In the end it was kind of a catalyst for her. Once he said it out loud she could think about nothing else. No matter how tired she was, she could not fall asleep. That one sentence was running on a carousel inside her head.
You'll never get rid of me, I love you.
She never thought she'd be on the receiving end of that phrase, not with him saying it, that is. But that didn't mean she never dreamed of it, of hearing it, his voice whispering it in her ear. Nevertheless the feeling was overwhelming. Although, technically he didn't speak to her per se.
You'll never get rid of me, I love you.
She had to do something or she'd go crazy.
First the thought of walking around the neighborhood distracted her. The chilly air would clear her thoughts, erasing the smoothness of his voice from her mind. Aimlessly wandering. Not noticing the time nor the way her feed decided on in the middle of the night.
She should have known. She should have known all along, that the one place she ended up in front of when trying hard not to think of him - was his door.
She didn't need to knock, no one made her do it. She did it anyway, maybe he wouldn't hear it or ignore it. Maybe…
He didn't.
Of course not, he never listened to her. The door opened widely and the smell of a freshly showered male hit her nose directly. His hair still damp, dressed in sweat pants and a nice tight shirt and barefoot, her favorite writer was the epitome of the perfect yummy picture. Taking its chance her brain chose this exact moment to go on vacation. Without leaving a note.
"I never want to get rid of you. I love you."
Momentary loss of sanity was her excuse when her brain had rebooted enough, or she would've never uttered those words.
Both stood frozen in his doorway, not moving, the only sound their slow breathing. Too shocked about the words that flew from her mouth, they didn't dare stir. After a minute that felt like hours the tension inside her grew stronger when she noticed a change in his composure.
How she got on his kitchen counter she couldn't say. Not that it was relevant. When she lost her jeans and shoes was beyond her. The sweat pants and shorts pooled around his feet didn't register with her either.
The only thing important was how much deeper still he could go. Why her panties – roughly shoved aside – could cause such delicious friction on her inner thighs. His hands digging into the flesh of her hips. Her fingers searching along his back, finding his shoulders to keep a hold of under his shirt.
Was her blouse open when she got here? Must have been otherwise he couldn't suck on her nipples the amazing way he did. Her head bent backwards, a heartfelt moan escaped her open lips making him smile against her sensitive skin. Leaving her breast with one last wet lick he moved his head to kiss her with all the pent-up passion accumulated during the last fifteen months.
His strokes became harder, faster just as her moans became louder, turning him on beyond belief. Her eyes snapped open when he hit a particular sweet spot oh so deep inside of her, creating a shiver down her spine and making her breath catch in her throat. An impish little smile broke out on her face as she saw him watching her, his brilliant cornflower blues staring at her, memorizing every emotion crossing her face, every gasp and every twinkle in her gorgeous eyes.
She didn't mind. Not at all. Suddenly her hands flew to his face holding it in place, making him look at her while he rammed into her, hitting that perfect spot in rapid succession, sending more and more shivers right through her. When she came, she burst in flames.
And took him right with her.
Her head was leaning on his shoulder, his arms tracing soft patterns on her back. Both were slowly coming down from their combined high. Her warm puffs of air were hitting the skin of his neck and damn if he wasn't already getting used to that feeling. Her next words made him realize where they were.
"My ass is glued to your kitchen counter. What exactly am I sitting in?"
He chuckled and responded with his lips grinning against her temple.
"Raspberry marmalade. From my waffles earlier."
I didn't even mention their names once. That wasn't planned, but I kinda like it. What do you think? Should I stick to watch instead of write about it?