Careful, my dearest friends! THIS STORY IS FILTHY! EXPLICIT AND SO! NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART! SUPER SMUTTY!
Enough warning? God, I hope that was enough….
Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist, and I don't make money from fan fiction.
Secrets
Sometimes, Senior Special agent Teresa Lisbon wanted nothing more than shoot Patrick Jane with a taser and make him shut up.
Mainly because she had always found herself hoping, just a tiny little bit. That they would talk one day. That this horrible mess could be sorted out somehow. That deep down, his feelings… were there.
A hope he always managed to destroy with a flick of his wrist.
She tried not to look at him and wondered how much he truly knew about her. In her clearer moments she realized that it most likely was a lot, and it never failed to make her blush. When Barlowe, a guy she truly hoped to never meet again, had made the comment about her feelings for Jane, she had suddenly felt just how tired she was, how much all the pretending wore her out.
Why deny it? It was all futile in the end, and she had thoroughly messed it up.
When Walter Mashburn had shown up in her office two days ago, all brilliant sun tan and too expensive suit, she had almost cried. Because her life was in shambles, and still she couldn't stop hoping. That was what she had always been: naïve and slightly stupid. No wonder Jane… no. She wouldn't go there.
With a sigh that felt raspy against her throat, she looked at Jane.
"I won't go out with Walter, spare your breath. He's an old story, placed in another life, and I won't warm that up again. It was fine, it's over. Don't you have some new dents to make into your couch or so?"
Jane watched her intently, and she felt her soul being dissected. It wasn't scary anymore, she was so used to it, being scanned by him was like a natural state she had accepted long ago.
His voice startled her a little, every time. Because he managed to reach a point deep inside of her that ached like a sore tooth. The deep breath she drew came out shaky. His voice was like a spell.
"You don't have to fight my war, Lisbon. I don't understand why you won't allow yourself to live. Walter is a ticket into another world, and don't tell me you don't need that. Come on, Lisbon. It would be moronic not to accept his invitation. Hell, I've seen how he looks at you- he wants you."
Unlike you, she added almost automatically in the safety of her own thoughts. Had she ever felt something like this before? A love so deep it raged like lava inside her core, and she just wanted, wanted, wanted so much it gripped her like a curse. She didn't want to give up, because she knew it had to feel like dying.
She shrugged.
"He likes that I'm different from all the swooning blondes he usually gets- and different makes a good trophy."
She forbid herself the thought that she sometimes behaved like a swooning brunette when it came to Patrick Jane. She snarled at herself and almost broke her pen. MESS. Undoubtedly her word of the year.
Jane tsk-tsked.
"That's not true, and you know it. Walter is a good guy, and he seriously adores you. Come on, Lisbon. Do it for me."
She wanted to slap him then, and it gave her only a little comfort that he immediately realized what he had done. There was just a hint of shame on his face, he couldn't look at her for a moment and averted his gaze.
Her feelings were like a monstrous entity between them, hard to be ignored, so no surprise that he wanted to distract her. Her constant wondering about his feelings was nothing but a foolish little girl's romantic dreams. There were none.
As if on cue, a tall shadow darkened her door, and she knew who it was before she looked up. He wore a turtleneck, crème-colored, despite the warm Sacramento weather, and she could well imagine who had told him to do so. Now she seriously wanted to hit Jane, somewhere it would really hurt. What did he think she was, a microwave- press a button and ta da, hot?
Anger and dread knotted her stomach into a tight pile of hurt feelings, and her smile felt totally forced.
Walter smiled back. He COULD smile, he looked like a million dollars, and it was true- his eyes held a lot of affection for her. She swallowed drily. He was a good opportunity, for relief, a deep breath between catching Red John and caring for Jane. But she didn't want him.
Because she had already fallen in love in the wrong place, fallen so hard she hadn't even known that people fell this hard, That love could be about as painful and inevitable as a bullet to muscle and tissue.
"Hey," Jane cried out, "look who's here, Lisbon- looking GREAT, Walter, VERY tasteful choice of clothes, don't you agree, Teresa?"
She glared at him and swallowed the snarky remark that desperately wanted out.
"Thank you," Walter smiled, "too nice of you, Patrick. But every effort of male grooming has to fail miserably in the presence of your beauty, Teresa."
He winked, and she couldn't help the little grin that curled the corners of her mouth upwards. Charming bastard.
She felt something from Jane. Something fierce and strange, but it was gone so fast she couldn't take a closer look, and he spoke again before it could take root.
"Look, Walter, we've been a little busy, but the lovely Teresa just decided to join you for dinner tonight… good news, huh?"
Her whole body tensed in protest, and she was about to deny his words when he interrupted her.
Jane looked at her, his eyes as deep and opaque like a crocodile-infested swamp.
"Come on, Lisbon," he drawled, the lazy, nonchalant tone of his voice contrasting his intense gaze, "you know you want to, don't be such a spoilsport. Go to dinner with the poor lad. Walter is a first class date, and you know it. Lisbon, please. Accept his invitation and make him a happy man."
She looked at him and understood. She was a fool. Never, ever would she have what she truly wanted, disappointment and pain were inevitable, and this was what the rest of her life would be like. Her future, mapped out in Patrick Jane's eyes, which turned slightly mocking now, urging her to turn around and leave. He couldn't wait to get rid of her stupid love.
It hurt, and she looked at the feeling, the sharp ache inside her chest, trying to get used to it. This was her, and how had she ever dared to fight it? Hope, my ass.
"You know you need some glitz inside your dull life. Go out with him, Lisbon."
She looked at him, and the pain turned into something else entirely, something fiery and devouring, settling inside her core like an everlasting spark of torture.
She turned and looked at Walter, and she hoped he couldn't see. She still liked him so very much. But his gentle smile told her he didn't see anything, and how could she ever have believed he would. Nobody could. Nobody but Patrick Jane.
"Okay," she said, hoping her voice didn't sound as croaky as it felt inside her parched throat, "I'll go out with you. Will you pick me up at eight?"
Walter bowed a little.
"It will be my pleasure, Teresa."
And just like that, fate showed her decaying teeth and laughed at her like a cruel, ugly ghost.
xxxxxxxxxx
Jane hadn't felt the urge to get silly drunk for quite a while now, but tonight, it drove him insane. The need was so strong that he had in fact purchased a large bottle of Vodka and spent the first half of the evening staring at it like a hawk at a fat mouse.
He couldn't bring himself to drink it in the end. Because it would have looked like a confession. And if there was one thing Patrick Jane would never do, it was confess, not even in the solitude of his attic, not even to himself. He didn't care that Teresa Lisbon was out with Walter Mashburn. No, that wasn't quite true- he was glad for her. She deserved it. Deserved to be wined and dined like a princess, laugh about the jokes of a cultivated gentleman, ending the night in his arms…
His throat burned as if he'd swallowed fire, but he fought the pain down, a bulk of bloodied hurt, feeling as if a knife was twisted around inside his chest. He felt the ribs creaking. But he swallowed often enough to make the tears vanish.
She was happy. Nothing counted but that. He could deal with it. He could deal with everything, as long as she was happy.
He grabbed the bottle of Vodka and threw it against the wall, watched the glass shatter against the dirty plaster of his attic hideaway, the sharp smell of the liquor stinging inside his nostrils.
He suddenly noticed that he was bathed in sweat, his clothes sticky on his skin, rapidly making him feel cold. He finally went to the men's room on shaking legs, getting naked as fast as he could. His own body felt alien to him, almost as if something separated him from his own self, something he couldn't overcome.
Still wet and shaking from the cold, he practiced a smile in front of the mirror.
And was terrified when he had to acknowledge that it wouldn't come.
Xxxxxxxxxx
Silk whispered against her skin, sweet lies of a life she would be saying goodbye to before the night was over. Glitz? This wasn't her at all, and she didn't even know where to look. It was embarrassing how much she wanted home, right now.
Oversized football clothes. Messy hair. Kitschy TV entertainment. Death by ice cream.
She sighed.
Walter smiled at her, but she could see the deep concern inside his gaze and almost snorted. He didn't need to be psychic to read her mind. She could almost feel how her eyes were glistening, and she sure as hell felt the myriad of tears clotting her throat.
He put his hand on hers, and she almost startled at the contact. Human touch was an almost alien concept to her these days.
"You don't look happy, Teresa. In fact, you look as if you're about to cry."
She didn't know what to say, and suddenly realized that Jane was right… she couldn't lie. She was tired of trying. She wanted to get up, stand on the table and scream the truth into the world.
"It's not you, Walter- it's me."
And how cliché was that, huh?
She started laughing, her giggles getting out of hand fast, and she felt a strange kind of relief when he joined her. She had never wanted to hurt him. But the truth was that she didn't want him this time.
"I can't do this," she whispered when she could talk again, "I'm… I'm permanently sad, Walter. There's no space inside of me where I can't feel the sadness… so… I just can't do it. Are you mad?"
He smiled.
"It will get you nowhere, Teresa. I recognize unrequited love when I see it, and you're oozing it. Whoever he is- forget him. If I have learned one thing in my life, is that you can never be happy if you can't let go. Let go, Teresa. I don't want to marry you. This is just fun. There's no need to be afraid."
She leaned back and looked at him.
"Did you ever get into an emotional dilemma you knew you couldn't ignore? Did you ever get infected with a longing that continued to hurt and burn, and will do so until you're dead and cold? A feeling you can't overcome? Did you ever fall in love? REALLY in love?"
His smile deepened.
"Never. It's us who decide our fate, Teresa. We don't need to feel what we don't want to feel."
She nodded slowly.
"I envy you."
Walter sighed deeply, and his obvious defeat made her grin a little. When he took her hand and guided it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her skin, she knew he felt pretty much the same she did: their thing was over, a part of the past. And she almost felt relieved that they had clarified this.
"I've never been in love like you are right now, Teresa. And to be honest- it doesn't look like fun."
Lisbon laughed, and it was the first time she did so in quite a while. It felt so alien to her that tears sprang to her eyes. Damn, she was confused, rubbed raw by feeling too much for too long.
"It's not. It hurts like hell and makes you feel like a loser all day."
"That sounds lovely. Is he worth it?"
She laughed even more.
"No."
"But you love him."
She sobered up fast at that. Suddenly she felt small and useless. Couldn't lie, wore her heart on her sleeve, was no match for a man like Jane. A professional cheat and liar.
"Yes," she whispered, "with all my heart."
She could feel his compassion, his pity, the rich playboy who treated sex as just another enjoyable pastime… no, she wasn't fair. She just wanted HOME.
Walter signaled the waitress for the check.
"Then allow me to get you to your beau."
Lisbon shook her head.
"Forget it. He doesn't want me. I'll walk. I have an urgent need for fresh air and aching feet."
She felt that he wanted to say more, but she felt restless and driven all of a sudden, hardly able to sit still on her plushy chair in her short silky dress. So Walter just nodded in quiet resolve and did what needed to be done.
Their goodbye wasn't as awkward as she had feared it would be, and when he hugged her, it felt actually good. It had been over a year since she had been hugged by someone who was physically stronger than she was, able to shield her a little for a few precious seconds.
"I'm sorry," she said after he finally released her," I thoroughly ruined your evening, you don't deserve to be treated like…"
"Forget it, Teresa," he smiled, "I have a, well…. a friend here in Sacramento I haven't seen in a while. Maybe I should go visit her now."
Lisbon grinned and nodded.
"You should. Bye, Walter."
She turned and was about to open the door when she heard his voice.
"This guy you love doesn't happen to be a certain blond consultant, right?"
She bit her lip so she wouldn't give herself away, knowing it was probably futile given her underdeveloped ability to lie. But she forced herself to turn around and look him straight in the eye.
"Of course not."
Walter nodded.
"Well, THAT'S what I call a mess."
Xxxxxxxxxx
She took off her shoes as soon as she had reached the pavement in front of the exclusive club. The asphalt was warm from the summer sun, a full moon was illuminating the world a shabby grey. Headquarters were much closer than her apartment, so she would go there, take a shower, use the spare clothes she kept in her locker.
And of course heading there had NOTHING to do with Jane.
Jim smiled friendly at her when she entered the hallway, and while she gave him a tiny wave she almost felt some kind of contentment. So she still had this job, it was a fine job, she would survive.
But the closer she came to the bullpen, the sadder she got.
So this would be part of her reality, too. Fine.
Jane didn't sleep on his couch tonight, and she approached it without any conscious decision at all, drawn to the memory of his body it would hold. She lay down and buried her face inside the worn leather, catching the faint scent of his skin. They had hardly touched in all these years, but she knew exactly how he smelled. Clean. Earthy and sweet at the same time, utterly masculine. Her body stirred, but she ignored it.
She loved him so much. It couldn't be helped, it was too late to run. Barlowe was right. Patrick Jane filled her whole being, and even when she was alone, she was constantly thinking about him. Dreaming. Hoping. Before despair dragged her back down. She had no idea what he was feeling, but if there was something, he would rather die than admit it. He was scared, scared to betray his memories, scared he could make her a target for Red John, even though she had been exactly that for years now. She had no doubt that the killer knew everything about Jane's life, and he was certainly able to extract his adversary's feelings, no matter who he was.
So maybe Jane just didn't want her. Saw her as his harmless little friend whose touch would do nothing to him but cause the mild discomfort he usually felt when he was touched.
She closed her eyes in pain.
But if he felt nothing for her, that didn't change her feelings. He refused to talk about them, but she felt close to bursting. She needed to say it. To his face, at least once, see the truth in his eyes to finally believe it. She would never give up hoping otherwise. And the hope was destroying her life, slowly, like a poison.
So screw if he wasn't willing to face it- she would make him, no matter what it cost her.
Because she truly couldn't go on like this.
She turned onto her stomach and inhaled his scent, taking deep breaths to stop the tears.
Xxxxxxxx
When Patrick Jane entered the bullpen next morning, he was prepared. Prepared to watch Lisbon in the middle of her post-coital glow all day. To make some gently teasing comments, give her a friendly "Told you so", watch her blush and giggle and stoke her Mashburn- enthusiasm as good as he could.
While feeling like the worst of losers inside, lonely, hungry, desperate. He had hardly slept, spending the night pacing like an enraged tiger, sick with worry and dread.
But it couldn't be helped. His hunt for the monster was about to go into the next round, and he couldn't need Lisbon's love. He had nothing to give her, she would undoubtedly make him soft, and one-sidedly protective, would make him forget what the true goal was. It had already started, and she had been much too deep inside his thoughts lately, paralyzing his resolve.
So he needed to do this. Lisbon had never been meant to be his, and with a little dedication, he could put her out of his mind with ease. No doubt.
So before he walked up to her office, he straightened and tried to smooth his slightly rumpled clothes. He was unshaved and bone-tired, but he hoped she wouldn't notice. Showtime.
He opened the door on a cheerful "Morning, Lisbon" and almost stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. Okay… that was different from what he had expected.
There was no post-coital glow at all, instead he detected some almost ruthless determination emanating from her, and he didn't like it. What had happened?
He watched her closely while she gave all the looks back, pulling up her eyebrows to question his no doubt impressive frown.
"Any problems, Jane?"
Jane rubbed over his stubbled chin.
"Hmmmmm- I don't know. You didn't accompany poor Mashburn into his hotel room last night?"
She sighed in exasperation. Unlike himself, she was freshly showered, her dark waves bouncing slightly, shiny curls of night clouds , framing her pale face. Her mouth was delicious, Teresa Lisbon had the perfect mouth, small and full and…
He stopped the thoughts when he found her staring at him.
"No." she said matter-of-factly.
He expected her to say more and tilted his head to encourage her, but she seemed to ignore him, walked around him to collect stuff from all over the room, putting everything into her bag. When she finally shoved her gun into her hip holster, he had enough.
"Why… didn't you take the date further, for god's sake?"
When she looked straight and unflinching at him for the first time this morning, he realized his mistake. There was something close to anger in her eyes, and it was directed solely on him.
But her voice was calm, as if she had thought about this endlessly and found some kind of deep inner resolve.
"Because I'm in love with you."
He felt as if she had kicked him in the stomach, could almost feel the air being knocked out of his lungs. She hadn't just said this, had she?
Rarely in his life had he been truly surprised, but he absolutely hadn't been prepared for this. He stared at her openmouthed, groping for words, cursing himself for his inability to react properly.
He had always managed to stop her when she was close to voicing it, distraction, simple flight, how in hell had she caught him like this?
Which made matters worse, she didn't seem to be upset at all.
She calmly put on her leather jacket and grabbed her bag.
"Sac PD called in a homicide. You coming?"
She walked out of the office before he could answer, and he followed her cautiously, approaching her like a bomb which might detonate if he moved carelessly. She stared straight ahead, patiently waiting for the lift to arrive, while he felt as if a grenade had pulverized his insides.
He couldn't concentrate like this, dammit. Thankfully the case was utterly undemanding, he set a simple trap, which he could easily do with only half his mind involved, no problem.
But when he and Lisbon waited in the car for the culprit to reveal himself, he couldn't stay silent any longer.
"Listen, Teresa… you… are not really in love with me. Sure, you might think you are, you don't have a lot of friends, and we are very close. We spend a lot of time with each other, so it's only natural that you make more of it than it actually is. But- what you feel is not love. It's friendship, and it's important that you know the difference."
She turned in her seat and looked at him, and her eyes managed to unnerve him a little. They were deep and luscious, and he couldn't help getting inappropriate thoughts just looking at her. Which didn't help his cause at all, of course.
"Listen, Patrick," she said firmly, and her using his first name made him shiver involuntarily, "would you mind stopping to tell me what I'm feeling? I went to dinner with Mashburn last night, and when he put his hand on mine, I felt nothing. Not even a turtleneck can fix that. HE is just a friend. YOU are the guy I have bedroom-thoughts about every night- well, not only at night, since I'm being absolutely frank here. But I understand- you don't want me. That's okay. I'm a big girl, it's not my first time, so feel free to ignore my silly feelings all you want. If you try very hard, I'm sure you can continue to overlook the pink elephant in the room, huh? Go ahead, ignore it. I'll be fine."
Jane shrank inside his seat. Okay, so she was angry now, tried to stay calm, and failed like she always did when feelings were involved. Teresa Lisbon definitely wore her heart on her sleeve.
"I'm sorry," she whispered into the awkward silence, "I didn't plan any of this. I won't make a fuss. I promise."
He started to ache all over. His arms itched to wrap around her, comfort her, he could never say how much he longed to tell her that everything would be alright. But he couldn't. He couldn't make her more of a target than she already was, and acknowledging the feelings between them would do exactly that. So he had to pretend and play disinterested and hurt like a wounded animal. He felt cold all of a sudden.
In all the years he had spent hunting Red John, nothing had granted him real comfort but Lisbon. She was the one place he could feel safe, the one soul he didn't need to hide from. She had no idea how much it meant to tell the truth after eons of lies, to open his core and let the dirt wash out. He felt cleansed through knowing her alone- and he could give nothing back.
Even now, when she had fallen in love and needed him even more.
For the first time in quite a while he felt at a loss for words.
She was right, of course. How did he dare tell her what she felt wasn't the real thing when she had spent the whole year worrying about him, caring for him, thinking about him. While he had pretty much done sod all to make it easier for her.
He looked at her and found that it was the one thing that always gave him comfort- just shamelessly staring, her profile pale in the darkening interior of the car.
He was almost scared to speak.
"Will you have dinner with me after we're done here?"
She looked at him, and as usual he could read her like a book, her feelings wild and hot, alive in her eyes. The sadness seemed to weigh her down.
"No."
Xxxxxxxxxx
So, it was time to get a grip on this. She had cried for hours, and this numbing sadness had to be done with now. She was no little girl any longer, she had professional responsibilities, and at the moment there wasn't much more to her life. A pile of responsibilities.
So could she do the one reliable thing she had left right, please?
Her nose was clotted. Her hair no doubt a mess, her face sticky from her tears. She deserved everything about this, though. She had never really fallen in love before, but it was just as awful as she had imagined it all her life.
She truly wanted Walter's ability to just stop unwanted feelings. Unfortunately, she was as far from acquiring this special skill as she was from walking on Mars.
Her throat was dry, parched even, she needed a drink of water. Just as she walked to the kitchen counter, her whole posture that of the suffering creature she was today, there was a knock on the door.
She looked down, taking in her attire. She wore exactly two items: panties and Patrick Jane's shirt, which thankfully covered her to mid-thighs. Okay, she had stolen it, but whoever was in front of her door (most likely her obnoxious neighbor out of sugar for the fourth time this week) wouldn't know that. The light in the freaking living room was on. So he would know she was home.
With a sigh full of loathing for her existence she strolled to the door and attempted a half-hearted smile… which froze on her lips when she opened up and saw who waited outside.
Patrick Jane carried a bag that was obviously filled with several cartons of Chinese take-out.
He smiled sheepishly, before the gesture turned into a little frown.
"Is that my shirt you're wearing?"
She glared at him.
"Of course not. It's my brother's, he looks adorable in baby-blue stripes."
Jane chuckled, and she had to bite her lower lip not to join him. She would rather die.
Damn, he looked good. And every time she saw him she couldn't help noticing. She would go crazy. Even her job was toast if she went on like this.
"Can I come in?" He asked softly.
She shook her head. Vigorously.
"No."
"I have the most delicious Chinese take-out, and I happen to know exactly what you like best."
She stared at him with the mixture of awe and irritation only he could evoke. Like a master.
"What are you doing, Jane? Damn… for god's sake, come in. I will never understand you, never."
It was silent while he put the bag on the counter and she closed the door. After that was done, they quietly stared at each other. Her leaning against the door. Him against the counter.
"I have spring rolls," he said eventually, "you love spring rolls. With sweet chili-sauce. I have that, too."
"Is that supposed to impress me? Damn, Jane, you're TRULY reading my mind now…"
There was something dangerous in his eyes, something that hadn't been there this afternoon, when he had been floored by her unexpected confession. Why had he come here, when he knew how messed up things were between them at the moment?
He eyed her like a big cat hunting for prey. And despite her desperate attempt to stop the reaction, it made her hot.
"You still don't want me to tell you three secrets you think I don't know, Lisbon? I could. Any time."
Don't take the bait, Lisbon. You can't control what happens when you do.
"You can NOT."
"Do you want me to?"
No. She wanted him to go. Right now.
"Fine," she heard herself whisper, "do it."
Xxxxxxxxx
He had no idea how he should protect her, but he had no choice. He had spent the evening in a state of horny despair which had told him unmistakably that the feelings between him and Lisbon were anything but friendly.
He wanted her. Wanted her so much that he had understood they couldn't go on like this, both of them. He could avoid his feelings longer than she could, but the pain weakened his resolve, and love was a different matter entirely. He couldn't ignore this need any longer. There had to be a way to protect her from Red John- and he had to find it. Later. Now he needed her as much as his next breath.
God, he was an idiot. He should run as fast as he could, away from her, to a place where he couldn't touch her and wouldn't bring doom upon her.
She looked too delicious for words. Her hair a wild cloud around her face, his perfect beauty. And seeing her in his shirt did things to him he couldn't even name. His heart burned, thundering wildly inside his chest.
He slowly approached her, until he was so close he could lean down and whisper into her ear.
"Okay, Lisbon- three secrets. In superficial sexual encounters you like to keep it cool… because you hate losing control. So you avoid physical contact as good as possible during casual sex, but that's not who you truly are. You are wild, uncompromising, passionate, but you never show this side. When you are deeply in love, you adore sucking cock, not like the technical exercise in deep throating you make yourself perform, but just for your own pleasure. You do it to exalt power over a man, but the way you want to do it is with utter dedication, because you like the taste of your man's flesh. You also love seed- copious amounts of it, hitting your breasts, even your face. Drying on your skin. You like tasting it, playing with it. And you never, ever told this to one of the guys you've been with. You also encouraged them to approach sex slowly, sensually… nothing that can engage you too much. Because the truth is that you like a man to take control in bed, to pin you down and pound into you like a jackhammer. You like a little pain with your pleasure, just a little bit. But you never trusted a man enough to demand what you want. You pretend you like sex harmless, uninspiring. And you never had an orgasm that didn't come through your own hand. There you go, Lisbon- three secrets. And don't tell me you expected me to know this. Do you want me to go on? I know more, lots more."
"You can't know that…"
He kissed her earlobe, knowing the shock of his touch would shut her up, but he still took care that he didn't get too close, didn't press his body against hers.
"You like wet kisses. Your favorite position is from behind, because you like the penetration as deep as possible, but since it means virtually no control for you, you never actually do that, but try to come out on top. And my kinky little partner would like to experiment with outdoor sex and naughty roleplaying. Lisbon, if you truly want to enjoy sex, you need to be willing to lose control…"
"How can you know that?" She whispered, dumbfounded.
Jane smiled secretly. She had no idea that she had just admitted that he was right, which was a mistake when dealing with con men. His Lisbon- no pokerface at all.
"Oh, it's not as hard as it looks. When you find things potentially arousing, you lick your lips and look away very fast. Like when you see… firefighter uniforms or the Sacramento State Park- wasn't too hard to guess what you're thinking. You are not a hugger, but whenever I hugged you, you started drawing circles on the small of my back after a moment, so I knew you not really hate to touch- it just depends on the person. You move your mouth when you stare at my crotch, so I guessed that's what you like to use there… oh, don't blush, you are among friends here… everybody knows you're a control freak, so it was safe to assume you won't relinquish this control in bed- and if people change their habits, it is when serious feelings are involved, so I think you would, too. About the a tergo position? When you have to bend over to sign something or stuff, you rub your thighs against each other, which tells me the position has a sensual component for you. When you hurt yourself slightly, like a paper cut or so, you RAISE your head inside of lowering it, which means there is a teeny weeny hint of a pleasurable feeling mixed with the pain… you also can take a lot, are a great tackler, don't even flinch when you bump your hip or shoulder on something solid, so you most likely aren't into soft, slow sex. But hard sex gives the female part less control, so I guessed you haven't indulged much. About the semen? When you spill something onto your hand, like the milk for your coffee or cream at the last CBI Christmas party, you either lick it off or rub it into your skin instead of wiping it away. Sure some people do that, but the way you LOOK while you're doing it tells me you're not scared of a little mess, but rather enjoying it. And you remember Rigsby's little prank with the garden hose last summer? He doesn't have a lucky hand with being funny, but… Grace immediately curled into a ball to shield her body from the water, but you stretched, made yourself bigger while you took the hose from Rigsby. Little Teresa LIKES to get wet, huh?"
He gripped her chin and made her look at him, and damn, was she a sight. Huge, liquid eyes, her full lips quivering and moist, skin flushed with embarrassment and arousal. He felt himself licking his lips in anticipation and grinned.
"And, Teresa: you never, EVER tell a fake psychic that his guesswork is correct. Because then, he can just go from there. And reveal all your dirty little secrets…"
He nuzzled her neck and felt the urge inside her to give in, open up for him, fighting with her wish to stay in control.
"Why are you doing this," she breathed hoarsely, "you don't want me…"
He rolled his eyes dramatically and grabbed her hips, finally bringing her into full contact with his body. He felt his erection rub against her abdomen, heard her sharp intake of breath. Her pupils dilated into enticing black holes, and she licked her lips into moist, shiny readiness. His cock started to ache for her.
"Stop telling me that I don't want you," he hissed, "because I do. I always did. But you always knew that my love is dangerous, Teresa. I shouldn't love you, I should be as far away as possible from you, my love. I make you the prime target of a serial killer. But please, forgive me- I just can't stay away."
"You don't need to protect me- I can protect myself…"
"I WILL protect you, Teresa! Especially when you're mine. And you will be mine- no turning back now, my sweet."
He took her hand and placed it on his crotch, encouraging her to grab him roughly, moaning in pleasure when she did. Her firm grip made him even harder, and her lips were so close and full they tempted him beyond words.
"I want you so bad," he whispered, "I love you, Teresa."
It felt so unbelievably good to finally say it, after all these years when he had tried to hide his feelings even from himself, after all the loneliness and despair, it felt so perfect his knees started to buckle.
"I love you," he repeated, "I love you."
He would protect her, with everything he had. Red John wouldn't get her, he would keep his companion close to his body, closer even to his heart, he would be there for her, and she would be safe. He could do it, he had to believe it, for he couldn't go on without her.
Her hand was so small and he couldn't help covering it with his own, heightening the pressure on his mighty erection.
"Yes," he hissed, "let's play, Teresa. You can do to me whatever you want. I won't fight it any longer."
Her fingers were already fumbling with the buttons of his vest and shirt, but he showed her the sorry state of his patience by simply ripping his shirt from her body, sending the buttons flying.
He looked at her tiny frame, pale, freckled skin, perfect forms. His knew his pupils were dilated to dark pools of lust, he wanted her so much he wanted to scream for her to spread her legs and let him take her like a beast in rut.
"You're tiny and perfect," he growled, "and I'm going to fuck you so hard you will feel it for weeks. Whenever you feel your sore insides quiver, you'll know it's because my cock was in there, wreaking havoc."
He saw her dissolve in almost violent arousal, her whole body poised to jump him, and her reaction gave him the key to making her his for all times. He smiled. His woman, he would do her all night, take her until she couldn't stop screaming his name.
She once more grabbed his erection through his pants, so big now it felt uncomfortable inside the tight confines of his underwear, the tip already reaching over the waistband.
"You're huge," she whispered in awe.
"Don't worry, my sweet," he cooed, already severely out of breath, "I'm also considerably stronger than I look. I can make you take it, Teresa, watch me."
She trembled like a leaf, and he grinned when he leaned closer, gently biting her earlobe before he whispered:
"Watch me."
Xxxxxxxxx
It should be illegal how damn hot this man could make her with WORDS. It didn't help her self-control that this was Patrick Jane, the man who hadn't been hers to touch yesterday and now promised to do outrageous things to her she craved so, so much.
He had been right of course. She had always longed for considerable roughness in bed, something raw and intense, and when she masturbated, she wasn't particularly gentle on herself. But actually encourage a man to hold her down, use his strength to conquer her? She had never trusted someone even halfway enough to allow that. So while she had felt the physical stimulation, her closed-up mind had shut her response down, and she had never been able to come when it was so easy on her own. But she was too scared to give in, tried to play things careful and slow just to keep the upper hand in every situation.
Until Patrick Jane had entered her life, making her shiver alone with his voice and the filthy things he said.
She trusted him. No matter how irrational it was, it would never stop. She had never been in love like this, never wanted someone like she wanted him, so damn, she was ready.
She couldn't stop stroking his erection, so hard, massive. It would never fit. She hoped it would hurt when he rammed it into her, the thought of herself stretching around Patrick Jane's huge cock making her dizzy with need.
She made pouty lips to direct his attention there, and he chuckled softly when he immediately realized what she was doing.
"Begging for a kiss, little one?" he whispered, "Oh, the things I will do to that gorgeous little mouth before the night is over."
He pressed his thumbs into her cheeks until her lips fell open, and descended upon her open mouth like a hawk. He pushed his tongue inside without a hint of gentle teasing, taking what he wanted until she almost came from the kiss alone. She hardly noticed that he ripped her panties off and slipped out of his open shirt and vest while he devoured her mouth, his grip firm and sure, pulling her so close that she could feel exactly just how aroused he was.
"You wouldn't believe how much I want to skip the preliminaries and just get my cock inside you," he whispered, "fuck you senseless in no matter which position, just pound into you until my seed is oozing from every pore on your skin. But I acknowledge that you had a rough day, you cried a lot, so I will at least give you the comfort of a soft bed before I plunder your body for my pleasure."
He looked at her, his eyes dark and fierce.
"I shouldn't do this, Teresa. I should be adult and responsible just this once and turn away, protect you through my indifference. But I can't do that any longer. You spoiled everything by telling me that you love me. I don't deal well with love, little witch, especially if I feel the same. So I can only protect you by keeping you close now. I will not let you out of my sight, Lisbon. And you will have me in your bed and your body every night from now on."
He gave her a brief kiss and threw her over his shoulder without warning, making her shriek in surprise. But damn, his skin was warm and soft, and she could feel his strong muscles rippling beneath it, she shuddered in arousal despite her protest.
He threw her on her bed once they reached her bedroom, and stared at her like a panther about to pounce while he opened his pants and pushed them down, underwear and all. Heavens, his cock was absolutely perfect, huge, slightly curved, her clit wouldn't stand a chance, being so close to her entrance that penetration always was her favorite way of stimulation. She licked her lips and fought the urge to spread her legs wide for him, not wanting to make the game too easy. She wanted fight, battle, abrasive force, so she kept her legs closed and glared at him, defying him.
"Stubborn, are we?" he chuckled, his voice almost sweet, "You'll only make this harder on yourself, Lisbon."
Before she could do as much as move a muscle he lunged for her, flipping her onto her stomach so fast the breath left her lungs in a surprised gush of air.
"Spread your legs, Agent, or this will get really uncomfortable."
She looked at him over her shoulder, feeling the sweat of her arousal pooling between her breasts. Now, now, now. But she kept her sassy face.
"What if uncomfortable is what I want?"
He watched her intently for a moment, before he abruptly got up from the mattress and stood in front of the bed. Much too far away for her liking.
"Come here." He said calmly.
She waited a few precious seconds but eventually obeyed.
He rolled his eyes at her in mock exasperation.
"Get down on your knees."
Her eyes never left his while she complied, sinking down in front of him until his erection was close to her lips. The scent of his clean flesh made her rub her thighs together. Enormous heat emanated from his straining shaft, and she whimpered in need.
"Suck it." He ordered, and she couldn't stop herself.
She took the broad tip of his length into her mouth and let her tongue play around before she took him just a little deeper, slurping and licking as if he were the most delicious ice cream. His taste was perfect, addictive, the thick vein on the underside of his shaft throbbed against her tongue, she was on cloud nine, dizzy, helpless, wanton.
"Don't play games with me, Teresa," he whispered breathlessly, "all I want is stuff your throat with cock and SHOW YOU uncomfortable. There is no way you won't be uncomfortable tonight, love, so don't worry- you'll get your fill. How big are the objects you shove inside you for a good time when you're alone? I bet they're a joke against this here."
With that, he grabbed the back of her head and shoved his cock deep, sliding into her throat until he almost made her choke. But if there was one thing Lisbon had no problem doing it was deep throating, even if it was really deep. She didn't even gag, just angled her head to make him go deeper, her eyes challenging him to do this right.
"You're such a tough little princess, Teresa," he smiled tenderly down at her, "I promise you will have A LOT of fun tonight. And will be VERY sore tomorrow morning."
He started to thrust into her mouth then, not slow and careful, but fast and hard, framing her head with both hands to keep her from losing her position and hurting herself. She closed her eyes and tried to suck in rhythm with his rapids strokes, feeling every movement deep inside her throat. She swallowed repeatedly, making him roar with lust, but when she was about to ramp up her act, he made her open her mouth and pulled out. She felt bereft and was about to protest when he grabbed her and threw her on the bed again, her back to him, pushing her leg up to make her sex open up for him.
She again looked at him over her shoulder, twisting her upper body to do so, and saw something in his eyes that made her halt for a second.
"I love you," he whispered. "I can't stop saying it. I love you, Lisbon. I will give you whatever you want, anything. Just ask."
She put her hand on her thigh in blatant invitation, and he smiled.
"You just don't know what's good for you, do you?"
He pushed two fingers inside her, grazing her clit without even trying. Her eyes fluttered shut in bliss.
"Oh, Lisbon, that's bad… this little thing here is pretty much in the way of my cock."
He rubbed her clit using a little more force, and she came like a fiend.
The muscles of her lower body contracted so hard she saw stars, a wave of explosive pleasure rushing through her system, renewing itself again and again, reducing her universe to the sensations in her center and the man evoking them. At the height of her almost painful orgasm she felt something unbearably huge being shoved into her, sliding deep over detonating nerve endings, screaming under the force of his penetration.
Jane put his hands on hers and started to do his worst. His rhythm was so fast she couldn't catch her breath, gasping every time his shaft surged into her, reaching depths she hadn't known could be filled by a man's hardness.
She spread her legs wider, crying out when he grabbed her hips to control her movements, pulling her into each thrust to fuck her even more forcefully. His cock was even broader at the base, and every time he slammed in to the hilt the enormous stretching did unspeakable things to her clit. One orgasm chased the other, until she was a mess of sweat and tears and hurting stomach muscles, the pleasure so acute she had no way of escaping it.
Jane pulled her up by her hair, making her growl at him, and took her mouth while he still fucked her rampantly, his arm wrapped around her middle to hold her in position. Their tongues fought with each other, his free hand turning her face towards him while he plundered her mouth, the friction of his cock so hard she felt on fire. When he pushed her forward again, holding her down by her neck, his thrusts felt even deeper, and she came again before she could regain her senses, feeling the sharp slap of his hips against her buttocks every time he made her world explode with another deep, fast stroke.
She heard him pant, groan, whisper endearments and curses on the same breath when she felt his seed erupting inside her in a sharp gush of liquid warmth. He kept pounding into her, spewing into her clenching core until she felt his seed everywhere, on her thighs, her buttocks, the sheets beneath her. She needed more and flexed her internal muscles around him to milk him dry, give her everything he had. He yelled with lust, his thrusts rough and violent, filling her deep, practically fucking his seed into her womb. She felt him losing control through the haze of her own ecstasy, and was awed by the way he gave in, trusting her enough to allow the pleasure to grip him completely. He was shaking from the force of his orgasm when he slowly came down, sinking onto the mattress next to her, blindly groping for her body to pull her close. She snuggled up against his chest, moist from sweat, tears and semen, kissing his skin with a greed that was returning fast. Damn. There was no way he could do that again tonight.
"Reprise?" he whispered into her ear.
She chuckled.
"How long do you need to be ready again?"
He lifted her upper leg and shoved his rock-hard length into her sore sheath, making her cry out in surprise. He didn't stop until the top of his shaft seemed to enter her womb, and she clutched at his shoulders to cope with the enormous tension inside her.
"Well," he whispered hoarsely, "when I'm truly mad with love for my woman, I'm astonishingly fast."
And he pulled her down on his cock until the broad base made her clit explode from the friction, sending her into another endless, painful orgasm she savored with every fiber of her being.
xxxxxxxxxx
Jane woke up first in the early morning hours, hard like a rock, his whole body humming from the pleasure of last night. Pleasure that had almost overloaded his system.
He couldn't count how often they had done it, he'd even followed her to the bathroom, unable to endure a few moments of being apart from her. He had ruthlessly taken her in front of the sink, watching her face in the mirror while he pushed into her from behind again and again, fucking her sore with utter dedication.
They had cuddled in between, and no matter how wrong this was, he couldn't regret it. They were in each other's lives now, lovers, partners, friends, soul mates. He was crazy for her. And he would protect her with his life.
He spent the next half hour watching her sleep with tender fascination, taking in her beauty like a heady cocktail designed to make him drunk. She looked even tinier like this, naked, disheveled, her small, delicate hand tucked under her chin. Her lips swollen from his passionate kisses and the countless times she had played with his erection. He sighed and was about to engulf her in his arms when she suddenly moaned a little and turned onto her back, her breasts heaving when she took a deep breath.
He was unable to resist what looked like an open invitation. He rose slowly, straddling her slim torso, taking good care not to touch her in a way that would be uncomfortable for her. He pushed the tip of his cock against her mouth, with only a little pressure.
Lisbon frowned in momentary confusion and licked over his rich pre-come that coated her lips, her eyes still closed, before she smiled a tiny smile and opened her perfect mouth, allowing him to push inside.
She angled her head so that he could slide deep, the sensation of being caressed by the tight confines of her throat so mind-blowing he almost doubled over.
He put one hand on the headrest for leverage and used the free one to touch her face, gently cradling her cheek against his palm.
She moaned a little, putting her hands on the backs of his thighs to pull him closer, the insistent movement of pushing and pulling showing him what she wanted him to do. He smiled a shaky smile and started to thrust in and out of her mouth, her passionate, sucking caresses sending liquid fire all over his length. His stomach muscles contracted, and he picked up speed, careful not to fuck her too hard. But Lisbon didn't want him to hold back and raked her fingernails over his hips and stomach, making him twitch in desperation until he shoved his cock rampantly into her throat, again and again, his whole being centered on the pleasure she was granting him.
Lisbon arched her body in delight, sucking him hard while her tongue played on his shaft, and it felt so overwhelming he cried out and started to shoot his load in powerful, voluminous spurts. She swallowed the first two with groans of bliss before she released him, directing the warm jet of his seed onto her chest and her chin, her ocean deep eyes almost hypnotic in their intensity while she stared at him. She rubbed her hands through the slick liquid, spreading it on her skin, licking it from her fingers while he was still coming, adding more and more semen to the considerable puddle on his lover's body.
Lisbon swallowed his cock again and drank the last few ounces directly from his shaft, making him so hot that when she finally released him after thoroughly licking him clean, he was already half hard again.
He smiled and abandoned his position, sliding his body against hers, his juices silky between their bodies. She rubbed them over his pecs, her touch making him as desperately hard as if he'd never come in the first place, and he bowed down to claim her lips in a hungry, wet kiss, tasting himself on her. He felt delirious with desire, his tongue foreshadowing the things his length would be doing in a minute, and he pushed his hand between her legs to find her ready, soaking wet. He slid two fingers inside her tight sheath and rubbed gently, her clitoris getting a hard brush every time he grazed the sensitive bundle of skin. But the fact that despite the more than convenient position of her lust center all men had failed to bring her to orgasm through penetration told him that her mind was the decisive factor, so he made sure that she looked at him, realized that he was the man she truly wanted, her soul mate she trusted despite better knowledge, trusted enough to relinquish control just like she had done countless times last night.
"Patrick," she whispered, the syllables tumbling from her lips, and he shoved his fingers even deeper, harder, faster.
"I'm yours, my love."
"I want your cock inside me. Please."
There was no way he could resist her begging. He pulled his fingers out and supported his body on his outstretched arms while he pushed his whole length into her with a single ruthless stroke, her eyes holding her captive.
"You drive me crazy." He hissed and set a vigorous rhythm, stuffing her with hard cock again and again, almost feeling her straining clit being mercilessly worked by his pounding shaft.
Lisbon opened up for him like a flower, her face contorted in the cutest of frowns while she took his hard thrusts, her small body bouncing from the force he used. He growled and grabbed her hips harder, holding her still while he fucked into her at top speed, her tight walls clutching his cock like a hot fist.
She exploded beneath him in shimmering fireworks, her lustful screams heightening his own need into furious want, making him ram his cock as deep inside her as if he wanted to make her choke on it. His girth stretched her enormously, but she came even harder the second time, showing him how much she enjoyed taking his massive length into her sore sheath. He gritted his teeth, the ecstasy so sharp he couldn't resist any longer.
He came like a madman, frothing and yelling, filling her with his seed while still shoving his shaft in and out of her, making her whole lower body thoroughly wet from their combined juices. He panted, groaned, pulled out to unload a few spurts on her stomach before he pushed back inside, so, so tight, resisting him, but he would force his cock inside her if he had to.
Aftershocks were rippling through her body, prolonging his own orgasm, and he felt almost unconscious with bliss when he finally collapsed next to her, pulling her tiny body as close as he could.
They both needed a while to catch their breaths.
He gave her some buttery soft, lazy kisses, sliding his firm tongue through her mouth in a gentle, soothing caress.
"Good morning," he whispered, and she chuckled.
"I love you."
He smiled.
"I know, Teresa. That's why you come so beautifully for me, again and again. I love you, too. Shower?"
"Hmmm," she moaned, "do I get more cock in the shower?"
"I must say, for someone who has problems to relinquish control, you are pretty much insatiable, my heart."
"I have a lot to make up for," she shrugged, "you complaining?"
He kissed her gently.
"Never. And the lady gets as much cock as I can provide."
"That's a LOT- I want all of it."
He kissed her, deep and thoroughly, before he looked seriously at her.
"Teresa, you understand that I have to stay, do you? This can never be a casual relationship, and we can't date. Now that the threat is real, I can't let you out of my eyes. So we have to go from first night to pretty much moving in together- I have to protect you at all cost."
She brushed her fingers through his hair.
"Do I have to remind you that I'm better equipped to deal with a killer than you are?"
"I know. But if something happened to you while I'm not with you, it would kill me. Probably literally. I can't take much more pain before I break, Lisbon."
She kissed his forehead, savoring his perfect taste.
"Don't worry. You're the one person I like to have around me all the time. And it's a good thing that I can have an eye on you this way. I have a guest room when you need to be alone."
He kissed her again, grateful that she understood him like no other. The soft smacking of lips was the only sound that could be heard for a while, both fully absorbed in each other.
"So," she whispered eventually, "what about the shower I've been promised?"
"You just want more sex," he growled playfully.
"You complaining?"
"Not at all. I love you, Teresa."
"Will you continue saying this?"
He smiled and rose slowly, picking her up on his arms.
"I'll say it a million times. Every single day."
The End