Even if the party was still alive, Jane and Lisbon put on a disappearing act; they walked slowly, their arms linked, toward her car, preferring to spend the night in the comfy bed of their place than in the airstream.
She had never been that happy before- and if Jane's everlasting smile was of any indication, so was he.
They were married.
And they were going to have a baby.
And he was happy about it- radiant even. Even if she wasn't sure it was the right word. He was just too happy for words, and so was she.
He drove carefully back to her house- as carefully as never before- and every now and then, if there was a stop or a red light, he would use the time to steal a touch at her tummy, sometimes a caress, sometimes he would just skim over the soft tissue of her gown with a sole finger. She knew it wasn't intentional, that there was just tenderness behind his actions, and yet… yet, every time he did so, was it because they haven't been having sex for a while, was it because of her hormones, she felt like electricity was running through her very nerves, liquid fire in her veins.
She wanted him- but she was almost positive that, given Jane's tendency to worry about her, with a baby on the way he would have asked them to avoid sex until the very end of the pregnancy. Hell- she was almost positive that, even if he didn't, he would have at least asked her to avoid it that very night, with the excuse of tiredness and stress and etc. and etc.
Like hell was going to allow him to. She wanted him. She wanted to have celebratory, steamy, savage sex with her fresh husband, whatever he liked it or not. Damn it, she deserved it, after all, with everything he had put her through in the last couple of months!
She deserved it. whatever he liked it or not. She was going to talk him in- and she already knew how. And he wasn't going to see it coming until he would hallway crazy with desire. Because… because, after all, he had told her so, right? She was still a mystery to him most of the times.
"Are you all right? Are you running a fever? You are all red… do you want to go to the hospital?" He asked her as he was helping her out of the car- like she was an invalid- as soon as he noticed her extremely red cheeks (caused by her steamy thoughts).
She closed her eyes and took a big breath, desiring to either hit him on head with the bouquet, or maybe hit herself. It was already a nightmare. Ok, she understood he had reasons to be hyper-protective, but it was a bit too much. And she was just a couple of months far… how crazy could he drive her for the next seven months or so? Good thing he had to build the house- less time to concentrate on every need she'd never have.
"Jane… you were so scared that I'd get a cold that you put the heat at the maximum… and we leave in Austin, Jane! Austin, as in, Texas, middle of the Desert!"
God. She wasn't even walking with his hand on the small of her back. Nope. He had his hands on her hips and he was guiding her inside, setting the pace, like she wasn't able to walk on her own. Dear God, she thought with a small smile, biting her manicured nail, He'll be one of those great daddy… let's just hope it's a boy, or she'll not be allowed to date until she turns 35.
While he was busy locking the door, she quickly (and stealthy) want back to her room- their room- and retrieved the item she had personally (and sort of secretly) choose on her search for the perfect wedding dress. That, as Cho had put it, wasn't a wedding dress- unless you were a flashy waitress who got married, half-drunk, in Vegas- but a slutty elf outfit in white and silver. It was the right- perfect - thing to get him in the mood.
"Teresa? Where are you? Do you need anything? Are you all right? Are you sure you don't want me call the doctor?"
She grunted from the other side of the door. Desiring to bang her head against the hard wood. She was going to go through seven very long months. She was positive that they were going to look like a century. Hers was going to be one of those seemingly never-ending pregnancies. And all because of an all too protective husband.
"Differently from a certain someone, I've never learned the fine art of collapsing in my bed fully clothed!" She teased him, the smile clear in her voice. Still now, half of the time he collapsed on top of the covers fully clothed- most of the times even with still his (ugly and horrible and just crazy) shoes on. And if she knew him… that was one of those times. Which was good, because this way they were going to save time. And besides, she went crazy with want for him every time he took off his vest in a hurry to get naked asap.
Well, actually… she didn't mind semi-clothed sex as well. With Jane it was a very sensual experience that spoke volumes of his passion for her; he was a sensual lover, but was always… careful, sweet, tender, soft- a vanilla lover, in short. She didn't mind it, really, but sometimes, like on his birthday, he just couldn't help but show his wild side, and leaving behind pretenses and masks, and seeing like that… well, the sex was mind-blowing, and it made her even cry such was his fire for her.
She quickly put the dress on- minus any kind of lingerie- and wore very high-heeled jewel sandals (something that had costed a small fortune and she would never use again in her whole life, but, what the hell, she planned on getting married only once) and run her fingers through her hair, giving it that sexy allure of just-out-of-bed-after-awesome-sex she needed.
She smiled at herself in the mirror, chuckling satisfied, and then she walked as quickly as possible back to her- their – room, where Jane was indeed already in bed, resting, fully clothed minus the jacket, on top of the covers, his hands behind his head and his eyes focused on the ceiling.
"Isn't this night a bit too important for thinking about the ceiling, Patrick?" She purred his name, leaning sexily against the doorframe, but then she had second thoughts- not about the whole seduction business, but about calling him Patrick. As exotic as it sounded coming from her lips, it still seemed… strange, foreigner; to her, he had always been "Jane", but she guessed she had to learn to live with Patrick- once the baby was born, calling him by surname would have sounded too weird, especially once the baby would be old enough to have friends over or go to school.
As soon as she spoke, Jane immediately lifted his head and once taken in her (slutty) appearance, he looked at his wife, he looked at her with a mixture of I can't believe I'm such a lucky bastard that it's really happening to me and I'm not going to let it happen to me.
Yep, she snorted in a very un-lady like manner, rolling her eyes. Apparently Patrick Jane was one of those husbands who thought that just because his wife was pregnant, she was going to go through the whole thing without sex. It was bad enough that she had to renounce to his talented mouth on her most intimate parts for the next seven months and more, but if he thought she was going to renounce to sex altogether, well, he was very mistaken.
"C'mon Jane…" she said, resuming the use of his surname, her lips pouting, approaching the bed with moves of a merciless, sexy predator. Good, Teresa thought, as she saw the movement of his Adam's apple. He wasn't as cool as he pretended to be. "I've been waiting all my life for my wedding night…" she ended the sentence with a giggle, almost as she was tipsy. Only, she wasn't, because the only thing she was high of, in that very moment, was desire.
"Teresa…" he gulped down a mouthful of saliva, his eyes as huge as saucer, fear written all over his features. He was behaving like a prey- which was good. it was exactly what she wanted from him. "Teresa, trust me, passionate wedding nights are a myth. Newlyweds are always too tired to do anything…"
By the end of the sentence, Teresa was by the side of the bed, one knee bent on the mattress, the silky material of the stretchy dress riding her forms, revealing more and more naked skin; one perfectly manicured nail went to his lips, effectively shushing him; her eyes were shining, her skin scented with desire, and her smile spoke volumes of her love for her groom. Her Jane.
"But the baby…" he murmured beneath her finger. She felt his hot breath on her skin, the tip of his tongue skimming the hyper-sensitive tissue, and she went of fire, her whole heart constricting and getting as big as the ocean at the same time, tears stinging her eyes: he had proposed, showing his commitment to their relationship, and now here they were, married. He had kept his promise, and she felt like, from that moment forward, none of them would have ever been empty ones.
She shook her head, and when she spoke again, there was no mistaking the lust in her voice. "I've already talked with my doctor. She just suggested avoiding getting oral sex…" she purred, cupping her breasts together, sighing and gasping as she did so, thinking about sinful things, about having his hard male flesh between her soft tits. "Which is a shame. You've got such a talented…." She purred, eyes closed in bliss. "…mouth. Besides… do you have any idea of how many nights I've spent… alone in my bed… thinking about you…. And touching myself, hoping that it were your fingers in me?"
Underneath her, Jane chuckled, any idea of avoiding taking his lovely wife there and then already forgotten. Trust Teresa to take matters in her own hands, despite being such a good Catholic girl. Of course she would forgot all about modesty and get as many information as possible.
"So, Jane…." she asked him, her eyes burning in his own ones, her hands mapping lustily the whole surface of her female body, hungrily. "is it enough? Or do you want me to continue? I have so many things that I want to tell you… I want you so much that I'm crazy with want for you… I could stay for hours here, between your legs, you know?"
She giggled again, shaking her head, her hair messier and messier, and underneath her, Jane abandoned every pretense; he sat up, his hands in her marvelous hair, and he started to devour her lips hungrily as she kept giggling. Smiling in the kiss, her nails scratched the skin of his neck, and then her hands moved to his tie, loosening it a bit; she unbuttoned few buttons of his shirt, unbuttoned his vest but didn't allow him to take it off, and then, still kissing him, their tongues battling erotically for dominance, she moved to his pants, cupping his cock through the fabric.
"Ah…" he gasped as she handled him, Teresa's expression full of lust, but showing that she was getting exactly what she wanted. He looked at her with big, pale eyes, full of longing, and in that moment he knew that from then on, every desire she would have ever had, it would have been an order for him.
"Touch me, Jane…" she whispered in his hear, biting his lobe. "Fell how wet I am… how ready I am for you. Do you really think I would have been able to go the whole night without having you? I would have had to play with myself… right here… in front of you…." She moaned, his lips finding a hyper-sensitive point on her neck, his fingers tentatively, and yet masterfully, exploring her slick, wet femininity, his thumb rolling the bundle of nerves that was already giving her so much pleasure.
She freed his hard male flesh from the its prison of fabric, and felt its satiny, steely weight in her hand the vein pulsating with hot blood and desire of fire under her delicate palm; Jane was definitely well endowed, and she couldn't span him- not with one hand alone, at least- but she had learnt from the master to cold-read people, and she knew where to touch him to give him as much as pleasure as possible.
For example, she knew that he always rolled his eyes whenever she put her thumb on the tiny slit on top of his cock, pivoting his length like a pole-dancer, getting pre-cum in ample quantity.
"Resa…" he gasped at closed eyes as she handled him, unable to end words and sentences, like any other time he was captive with desire for her; he added a second, then a third finger in her channel, his thumb pressing hard on her clit, and at the same time, he bit, hard, the juncture of her neck and shoulder, marking her as his own. As soon as he did so, Teresa saw burning stars behind closed eyelids, and then, she opened her eyes, screaming voiceless as the orgasm took her suddenly by surprise, her grasp tightening around his male flesh.
Sweaty, still prisoner of sexual bliss, she looked at the man underneath her, his smile smug and arrogant; she felt her throat sore, and yet, she didn't remember having screamed at all during this mind-blowing session of fingering.
"Over forty and I still have game, uh?" he chuckled, proud of himself.
Teresa shook her head, smiling feral, and grabbing him for his shirt, she brought him to her lips, and she devoured his lips; it took Jane a second to get back into the game, reciprocate her actions, and when he did, he took the occasion to grab the neckline of her dress and lower it so that her breasts were free, bare to and for his touch and sight; releasing her lips, he immediately took one, kneeling it hungrily, almost brutally, and bit the other one, making Teresa gasp as electric energy run through her whole being, from her breasts directly to her going, constipating it with want for him- her man, her husband.
"Fuck me now, Jane…" she said, looking at him in the eyes; she was talking dirty for him, to encourage him, spur him furthermore, and yet, in the way she was looking at him, there was something that went beyond the sensuality of the encounter. It was like such a filthy statement, when uttered by her- for him- was filled with tenderness, love and longing.
As he was still looking at her adoringly, Teresa parted from him, and went to seat on her knees at the headboard of the bed, her legs open for him; she turned, and looked at him, smiling, and Jane reciprocated it, happy as never before, joyful, and he joined her; they tenderly kissed for a while, his hands on her owns as she grabbed the wood of the piece of furniture right before her, then he moved the caresses of his lips to her neck, the fraction of bare back exposed by the slutty dress, nuzzling her skin tenderly as his hands moved to her belly, still flat.
"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" he asked, but she knew it to be a statement; she turned in his embrace, and as he positioned himself in her, carefully, and yet sure, she took control of his lips once again. It was like she could never have enough, like she would have died of thirst if they hadn't kissed.
"Mmm…." She moaned as he moved in her, long, and yet slow, movements, one of his hands gone south stimulating her clit as he didn't emit a single sound, too concentrated on giving her pleasure. "Mmm… don't stop…. I like it when you do this…." she plead between gasps, as she felt yet another orgasm getting closer and closer.
The hand that was still on her belly moved to kneed her breast, while the thumb of the other one pressed hard and constantly on her clit; feeling her reaching the edge, her channel tightening around his shaft, Jane upped the game, and his thrusts in her became more erratic, more frantic, deep and yet quicker.
Suddenly, Teresa screamed on top of her lungs, calling for her God, as she fell victim yet again to orgasm, and in the exact moment she did, she felt hot wetness filling her, his warm seed being erupted in her body as he was hit by bliss in the same instant she was as well, his mouth kissing, biting her shoulder once again to avoid adding his screams to her own ones.
Smiling like teenager, they collapsed on the bed, on top of each other.
"Wow." He mumbled afterwards, his voice low, sounding like the wolf crazy with want and lust. "If you are that way now, I just don't know what I should expect in a month and an half. I mean… I knew you could be passionate, but wow… I've never imagined you've had that in you." He paused, and looked at her, smiling smug and arrogant and yet positively beaming, and left a quick kiss on her lips, one full of promises and longing. "By the way, thanks for the amazing birthday present, my love"
She looked at him quizzically, leaning on her side, one hand under her head, the other massaging his hart; they had just re-arranged their clothes, and hadn't bothered nor to take them off nor change in something more apt to sleeping.
"What do you mean?"
He simply looked at her, as to say, Don't kid a kidder, then he went in know-it-all mode. "Well, when I found you at Abbot's you were crying, while you would have normally been just mad, which means you are starting to feel the hormones getting the better of you- really, I can't believe I didn't pick it up sooner, Now, mood swings start to appear between the sixth and tenth week, and as you aren't showing neither that small swelling that I at least should see when you parade in the nude for me, it means that you are closer to the sixth week than the tenth. Now, what was happening six weeks ago?" le lifted his index finger in the air, behaving like he was a teacher. "Six weeks ago we had that mess with Abbot that distracted you- thus probably a forgotten pill- and my birthday, when I was so moved by your present that I practically dragged you in the airstream and we had wild, half-dressed sex against the door."
She blushed, while he smiled his cat-got-the-canary grin. "In six weeks you'll not even think about blushing when thinking about sex, trust me. I'll end up begging Cho to give me my job back, because I'll not want to be around you 24/7 and being threatened in my masculinity just to feel like a sex toy." Despite his semi-filthy statement, he kissed her sweetly, a simple peck on the lips, full of love and tenderness, and stroked her dark curls with one hand, the other caressing her satin-covered abdomen quite possessively; it was a strange paradox, and yet Teresa felt that it fitted Jane perfectly.
His smile disappeared for a second, his mind going to when she had probably learnt she was carrying his child- probably at the time of Vega's death, or while he was playing tourist at the Grand Canyon, refusing her calls because he had to work through things on his own- but then he shook his head: he had told her that from that day on, they would be looking at the bright side. Be positive. Forget the bad things that had happened.
But… they were going to eventually talk about it, just not with sadness and regret but longing. Just not now, when everything was happy and radiant and they could see just the sun in their lives.
Yeah, they were going to have time for that.
But definitely not on their wedding night.
After all, they were too busy loving each other to say anything that wasn't dirty talk leaving his new bride's marvelous, sensual and voluptuous lips.