Author's Note - Welcome to my Ray Donovan fanfic! This is a new area for me so I would love to have your feedback, I can't seem to find enough RD fanfic online so hope this will help a few of you out too! Reviews and feedback are much appreciated, however small or brutal, you have no idea how helpful it is for me. Much love and many thanks! x

Ray blew the air out of his cheeks as he parked the Mercedes in its usual spot in the basement car park of the apartment block. It was dark down here, he could take just a moment to close his eyes and gather himself like he always had to on the first Friday of the month. Adjusting his collar for a moment, unbuttoning the top button, he touched the panel and listened for the dialling tone. It reverberated through the silence for a moment before Abby answered.

"Where the hell are you? Conor's teachers want us in first thing on Monday, Ray, we have to talk about this."

He didn't expect that to be the first blast but he was used to it. He glanced at himself in the rearview as he rubbed his hand over his hair and exhaled heavily. "I got shit to do tonight, Abs, you know this." He could hear her flicking through the pages of the calendar she insisted he use but she never referenced. After a moment, she huffed in annoyance.

"Where is it you go every month, Raymond?"

"I'm late," he said abruptly, glancing at the clock and seeing the numbers dissolve softly into midnight. "I'll be back by lunch, okay?"

He could already hear her saying his name to berate him further before he clicked to end the call. He picked up his cell and send a goodnight message to Bridget and then Conor before he nodded to himself in the mirror and slid out of his seat.

Ray hardly remembered how many times he had come to this place. Too many times, probably. He was a confident man, cool, steely, but every time he came here he felt nervous. Pushing the penthouse button, he waited for a moment for the intercom to connect. It buzzed brightly, it was always too loud for his liking.

"It's me," he muttered roughly. Within half a second, the elevator started with its usual grace and glided seamlessly to the top of the shaft. He fiddled with his cufflinks as he waited in silence for the single ping of the elevator to announce his arrival.

He stepped into the marbled foyer to be greeted by the sight of swollen, pink peonies in a vase on the table. He knew the rules by now, he took out his phones, his wallet, his keys and laid them all on the table. Reaching around his back, he lifted his shirt and took his gun from its place, housed against his spine. He dropped the clip into the palm of his hand and placed it flat next to the revolver before stopping to untie his laces and carefully placing his shoes beneath the table.

"Where are you?" he asked, taking a few measured steps into the empty living room. He pulled off his jacket slowly and dropped it over the arm of the single armchair in the corner. Padding through the apartment in his sock-clad feet, he paused as he approached the kitchen.

"I was just getting you a drink."

She was wearing red, he loved it when she wore red. Little black Christian Louboutins with their teasing red soles, too. She pressed a glass of scotch into his hand, a double measure with three ice cubes, it was just the way he liked it, but she knew that.

"Are you okay? You're late."

She moved like a cat as she prowled to take a seat on the couch. Ray chuckled for a moment and looked into his glass. "Can't a guy be a minute late?"

She smiled. "You're never late for me."

He laughed at the simplicity of the statement. She was right, of course. For years they had had this arrangement, he was always there on time, usually a minute before which he would spend waiting anxiously in the foyer. She watched as he unclipped his cufflinks and left them on the table before he took the seat beside her.

"You smell good," he murmured, possessed by her in seconds. He leaned into her, his nose seeking her skin, he needed to touch her, connect with her. She drew her hair away from her neck and felt her lips part as she exhaled with painful intimacy at his move.

"Just good old fashioned soap," she replied. His lips were already grazing her collarbone, she closed her eyes for a moment as she enjoyed the feel of his lips nibbling along her skin. "Wouldn't want your wife knowing anything, would we?"

It was the same reason she never wore lipstick, or any make up for that matter. Not that Ray ever noticed, her skin was always flawless and she looked like a damn movie star. "Don't talk about her," he muttered. "Not now."

Her lips curled into a smile, she knew what he wanted. It was what he always wanted. His hand was already straying to her breast, holding her as his tongue traced along her neck towards her jaw. She was the release that he so desperately needed, he groaned as she pressed him away for a moment to take another sip of her drink. The ice clinked in the glass, every sound in this place, however tiny, felt magnified to the extreme when his senses were so on fire.

"Do you want to start now?" she asked. Her voice was breathy, he could tell that she had been thinking about this just as much as he had. He nodded, prising the glass from her and placing it on the table as he pushed her down on the couch. He gripped her cheeks in his hand as he looked over her, her dark brown hair falling in gentle curls around her face and against the seat.

"Yes, Alexia, I do," he growled, his hand running up beneath her dress. He could feel her purring beneath his touch as her fingers ghosted over her underwear, she wanted this just as much as he did, she always did. He tiptoed his hand along her thigh, urging the hem of her dress up to her hip as she worked down his shirt, undressing him torturously slowly. By the time she got to the last button, Ray was about ready to explode.

She had only just about pushed his shirt from his shoulders, her hands dwelling on the toned muscles of his shoulders, before Ray dragged her roughly beneath him. He pushed a hot kiss on her lips that made her whimper as his tongue overpowered her, hungry for her, wanting her. Right now, he needed to own every inch of her goddamn body and he wasn't going anywhere until he was satisfied.

"So are you okay?"

Alexia sat up in the bed and reached across to the bedside for a Sobranie. They had always been her favourite, she made him pick them up for her whenever he left the country. The little purple cigarette rested between her fingers as she drew the sheet tight across her body. Ray, on the other hand, stretched out naked. It was too hot, he could feel the sweat still pouring off his brow from their intense orgasms. His body was slick as she dragged her fingertip lazily across his chest.

"Conor keeps getting into shit at school," he finally ventured, glancing up at her and motioning for the cigarette. She slipped down in the sheets beside him and held it to his lips for him to take a drag. Ray watched the obsessive precision she used as she watched his mouth wrap around the end to take a hit.

"Have you been talking to him?" she asked coolly. When he didn't answer, she smiled a little. "Do you think you've found your answer?"

"You can't pin this on me," he objected, moving to put one arm behind his head as he leaned back on the pillow. "I'm working."

"We've talked about you making time before," she said, rolling onto her side to flick the cigarette ash into a carefully placed ashtray on the bedside table. Ray smiled, he loved how she was so pernickety about everything. She took another pull before resting the remains of the cigarette to burn on the side. She held the smoke in her mouth for a moment and then blew it out above his head. "It doesn't take much, Ray."

"I noticed," he smirked, grabbing her waist roughly and rolling her back towards him. She giggled at his playful embrace, she could feel his erection straining against her leg, eager to start all over again. He started to nibble at her earlobe, hungry for another go, but she pressed her hand to his chest.

"Are you sleeping?" she asked. Her words were soft, she was concerned, he could tell. Ray wrinkled his nose.

"Not for a while. Nightmares," he said, tapping his temple. "But you don't need to worry about that."

She laughed. "I'm your therapist, Ray, of course I'm going to worry about it."

Ray gazed at her for a moment, feigning shock. "What? I just thought you were a really expensive hooker."

She gave him a playful slap and sat up on the side of the bed. She gathered her clip and scooped her hair up to the top of her head, pinning it in place effortlessly, as if it had taken her hours to get it just right. "And I thought you were another one of those Hollywood jerk-offs looking for a lay," she teased as she stood up. Ray sat up, resting on his elbows as he watched her move around the room, pulling on her almost see-through black negligee and pouring herself another drink. She lifted the bottle towards him, he nodded and she refilled his glass.

"They gave me pills," he said as he accepted the scotch. "To take to sleep. Benzodiazepines, I think."

She pursed her lips and looked at his reflection in the mirror. "Are you getting any palpitations?" He shook his head. "They're addictive, you'll find them hard to come off."

"I only took them the once, spent the whole of the next day off my game." He stood up and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her body and stroking his hands over her perfect curves with a sort of satisfaction. "And you know I can't be off my game."

She murmured contently as he kissed along her shoulder. He left a little bite mark in the crook of her neck, making her yelp with an intense mixture of pleasure and pain as he ran his fingers along her spine.

"You can just sleep here tonight, if you want? We don't have to, you know."

She gestured to the bed. The sheets were half-hanging off the mattress, the pillows were askew, one had already fallen on the floor. She reached to start tidying it up but Ray stilled her hands, ducking his head to engage her eyes.

"But we have an agreement."

Alexia rolled her eyes. "Fat lot of good you are to me if you're a sleep-deprived zombie, Ray. Come on, just... lie down." She drew him affectionately back to the bed and urged him to rest. Her hands felt like silk on his skin, and the hushed tones she spoke in made him remarkably dozy. He lay back for a bit before scooping her closer and nuzzling his nose in her hair. She smelled of orchids and coconut, the smell made him feel calm as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Maybe just for ten minutes," he murmured as he kissed her forehead and drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

Ray sat up suddenly, panting, trying to remember his surroundings. He reached instantly for the gun he usually placed on the nightstand beside him, it wasn't there and he felt panic ensue his body as he violently hurled the damp sheets away from his legs. As he rubbed his hand over his face, he took a breath and looked around to see Alexia's bedroom. Familiarising himself with the place again, he became attuned to the smell of coffee and spotted a pot sitting ready for him on the side beside some freshly-laundered, folded towels.

He dunked his head beneath the shower and rubbed the water through his hair. He had slept, he had slept for the first time in four weeks and he felt like he was in heaven. He smiled to himself as he picked the soap up out of the dish and rubbed it over his body. It felt good, it smelled like her, he could wear her all day and Abby would be none the wiser.

He towelled off to find that his underwear and shirt had been washed and hung up neatly on the side. He chuckled to himself as he pulled on his black boxers and looked at his reflection in the mirror. For once, the bags below his eyes didn't look so grey, it was a relief to look a little more human. Avi had been recommending a diet of weird Israeli mushrooms, Ray hadn't fancied that, that was for sure. This was a much-preferred cure.

He dressed and bounced down the stairs to find Alexia sitting, poring over the paper with an espresso in hand. She nodded towards the clock as she saw him. "You're late."

His eyes followed hers and he groaned. Shit, he was really late, it was nearly eleven. By the time he hit the highway, he'd catch the lunchtime traffic and he'd never be back before one. Abby was going to kill him, he'd have to call her in the car.

"Guess I don't have time for breakfast?" he joked, snatching up an apple from the bowl and slipping it into his pocket for the drive back. He picked up his jacket and took out a packet of money which he left on the table in front of her. She looked at it casually, not bothering to check it. They'd had this arrangement for far too long for her to worry about him trying to con her now.

"Thanks," she said with a nod. "Appreciate that."

"There's a little extra in there, for your birthday," he said with a small smile. He didn't often remember dates but Alexia's birthday was always one of them. Why, he'd never know, but it was rooted in there with Bridget and Conor's. Abby's was a stretch. "Buy yourself a little something?"

She smiled at that. "Thank you, I can't believe you remembered." He beamed, proud of himself, and leaned in to give her a final kiss but she refused it, shaking her head and pointing to the clock. "Time's up, Mr Donovan." She stood up and walked him to the foyer. She called the elevator and watched as he filed away his belongings in his pockets. Handing him his shoes as the elevator pinged to announce its arrival, she pressed a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"I'll see you next month."