Just out of reach

Disclaimer:- Don't own them just borrowing!

Episode:- None

Pairing:- Jean/James

Rating:- M

Achieve:- http(:/) . /group/rebeccafrontlewisffarchive/

Summary:- "In dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own..."

Author's Note:- In answer to the quote challenge to write a fic around the quote "In dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own." With the added note of it having to be exactly 900 words (thank you Beth!) Rated for sexual content so if that's not your thing stop now otherwise enjoy and reviews would be lovely!

"In dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own..."

The scent of strawberries and apples. Fiery red streaks in hear hair that catch the light as she moves. Eyes of the deepest darkest mahogany that dance with the promise of love and desire that fuels my deepest fantasies.

The curve of her neck, the dip of her cleavage teasing me, torturing me as she leans toward me realising an extra button on her blouse as she does in. A move designed to remind me that no matter what the moment, no matter what the situation , no matter where we happen to be she can entrance me with the tiniest of glimpses of what my heart truly desires.

Lips close to my ear, the appearance that she doesn't care who sees when I know she's picked her moment carefully to ensure that we can be neither seen nor over heard. Her breath caressing my ear her cheek brushes mine my heart races.

"I want you James. I want you now. Interview 1 in five minutes don't keep me waiting." The lustful edge to her voice, the urgency in her tone as she walks away, the way her hips gently sway, the way her legs seem to go on forever and I can only imagine them wrapped around my waist as I make love to her is all it takes to have me following her. For the promise of even a moment with her I would follow her to the ends of the earth and back again.

Hands reaching for me, the sound of a lock turned and a light extinguished and I know for now she is focused only on me. She needs me, she wants me, no one else can satisfy the desire raging through her right now. It's my touch she craves, my kisses she wants to taste, my words of love and lust she longs to hear.

"We don't have much time." The desperation with which she works at the button of my trousers pushing them down around my ankles before releasing my throbbing length into her hand is mirrored in the urgency with which I push her skirt around her hips finding that she's already removed her panties the preparation telling me what I already knew. There was premeditation in this secret assignation and the thought that in the middle of her day she was desperate for me only increases the lust running through my veins as I lift her onto the table pulling her toward me thrusting into her with a force that elicits the most intoxicating of contented groans from her.

"Tell me what you want, tell me why you need me so much." It's my turn to talk as she clings to me and in that second I need to hear her tell me why we keep doing this, why it has to be me she has in these moments.

""I want you to make love to me, I want you to take me hard and fast until I'm powerless to do anything but give up to you. It has to be you, I need you because no one has ever been able to make me feel like you do, no one has ever done it for me like you can." Her words are my final undoing from that second on the other sound in the sterile, cold interview room are our whispered cries of pleasure as I give her exactly what she's told me she wants.

Her fingers lace in my hair pulling my lips back to hers as the perfectly manicured nails of her other hand dig into my shoulder and I know she's close. I know the completion of my mission is moments away as she moans against my lips before burying her head in my shoulder as I hold her close and she starts to tremble in my arms her cries of pleasure deadened by the cotton of my shirt. The way her body reacts to me on instinct, the way her walls pulsate around my length drag me crashing into my own climax as I explode unable to stop myself crying her name as my body is attacked by wave after wave of earth shattering soul searing pleasure.

I fight for breath trying to force my eyes open, desperate to see her face, to feel her kiss me again and tell me once again that I am the only man for her but instead as I finally achieve my aim and the room comes back into focus nothing is right. Nothing is the same. The room is no longer the institutional grey of a police interview room but the soft blue of my bedroom. The surface isn't I'm resting against is no longer the cold metal of an interview table but the soft cotton of sheets now sticky with the physical manifestation of the torture my mind has once again inflicted on me. The scenes that play out in my dreams, in the world I wish I inhabited by day as well as by night are mine alone. She will never say the things I want her to, never want me the way I wish more than anything she would. Her love and desire for me exist only in my imagination in a world I would give anything to make real but know I never will.