A/N Thank you, Carolinagirl919

No Beta/Usual Disclaimer

"Need a ride?" She mimicked his question as she walked over to him. "How did you even know I was here?"

His jaw tensed at her question. The answer should have been evident. What John wanted to know was why she was here. But given the hour and the fact that she had lied to him about her whereabouts, it wasn't hard to guess the reason.

He was furious.

He knew he had no right to be, but he was.

He was furious that she stood before him wearing a dress that caused his cock to strain against his jeans. Furious at the hint of her cleavage, the golden skin he could see from her plunging neckline, and her legs that seemed to go on for days. Furious that she had dressed like this for Ian Murphy - a man who in his opinion didn't deserve to stand in the same room with Joss, fully clothed or otherwise. Though evidence had cleared Ian of being the stalker and killer they'd first thought him to be, Reese still couldn't shake the bad feeling he had about the young businessman. He still felt an almost uncontrollable desire to shoot him, especially now that Carter was exiting his building at one o'clock in the morning.

Alone.

He hadn't even had the decency to walk her downstairs and wait with her to get a taxi. He balled his fists at his side and looked up at the building, seriously reconsidering his earlier decision to not storm up there.

"You're not answering my question, John."

"I accessed your phone's GPS," he finally responded. "Come on." He grabbed her hand, but she pulled away.

"Unh-uh. I'm going to wait for a cab. I'm not entirely comfortable with you just showing up like this. We talked about setting boundaries before."

"I'm not entirely comfortable with you lying to me, but I guess I've got to live with that, don't I? It's one o'clock in the morning. There are no taxis in sight. I'm not leaving you here alone so someone can murder you on the street. Now come on, Joss."

They faced each other, a silent battle of wills going on between them. He cringed inwardly at how short he was being with her, but jealousy was eating away at him like he couldn't describe. He knew earlier they'd talked about the possibility of something happening between them, but she'd been reluctant to talk further. After the number took precedence and they had to go back to watching her, he'd had to drop the subject.

He had stupidly gone to her house that night in hopes to talk to her anyway. To continue what they had started. Armed with three different bouquets of flowers and take-out food, along with three of her favourite DVD's, he thought they'd either talk about their relationship or spend the night enjoying each other's company. Either scenario would've been a win-win in his eyes. He had no idea it'd turn out this way.

She kissed her teeth, looking from her right to her left. She was probably willing a taxi to appear out of thin air, though she knew it wasn't going to happen. He saw the reluctant slump of her shoulders and her silent defeat as she realized he was right and closed her eyes.

"Fine, you can take me home," she said.

He stood a little straighter, glad that he'd won the first round between them. He knew that tonight, there'd be more than one battle to be fought. She followed him to the car, slid in beside him and slammed the door shut.

As he drove down the street, she was determined not to look at him and instead stared out the window as she laid her head on the head rest. Her dress rode up, its hemline revealing more of her leg. He swallowed as he gripped the gear shift, releasing his frustration through the speed of the engine and pulled into traffic.

"Why'd you lie to me?" he asked, quietly.

"What?"

"Why did you lie to me about where you were, Joss?"

She sighed. "I don't know, John. I'm a grown woman. I'm allowed to have a life and see who I want. I shouldn't have to lie to you about that, should I?"

"Sarcasm," he huffed. "You're trying to be funny."

"I'm simply saying that you following me, tracking my phone's GPS as you put it, just might have something to do with the fact that I didn't want to tell you where I was. Or who I might be with."

Her eyes caught sight of the backseat where the flowers, DVD's and take-out were, and she finally looked in his direction, staring at him in disbelief. He met her gaze for a moment, feeling like an idiot before he turned his eyes back to the road.

Three bouquets of flowers, he thought. Three bouquets of flowers.

He'd bought roses since they were the universal flower of romance, desire, and passion. He'd bought a dozen to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he desired her, but he thought after a while that maybe it'd scare her off since they'd never had that conversation before.

So he bought tulips too. Red ones, since they signified perfect love. He was in love with her. Had been for a long time. It had everything to do with how she'd changed his life since they first met up until this very moment. She'd brought out the best in him. Made him think sometimes that he could be a good person again. She'd been such a good friend, had brought him back from the brink of death to finally experience the desire to live life once more. Everything about the way she made him feel was…perfect.

But even that seemed too heavy. So he'd bought daisies. They symbolized simplicity, patience, love, and beauty. While he appreciated everything that she was, loved everything about her, thought she was beautiful, he was prepared to wait forever if he had to for her to reciprocate his feelings.

Was he too late now? Did she have feelings for Ian? His mind told him no, but his head exploded at the notion of her having the same type of arrangement with Ian like he had had with Zoe.

He shifted gears again.

"Had plans this evening?" she asked, tilting her head in the direction of the back seat while she looked at him.

He nodded his head. "Had plans with you."

"You sure? Cause that wasn't something I was aware of."

He nodded his head again. "Mmm hmm….I had plans to surprise you," he answered.

Except he was the one who'd ended up being surprised tonight. She shifted on the seat, spreading her legs open a little, and the subtle aroma of her sex filled the air.

Fuck.

He gripped the gear shift tighter, his knuckles almost turning pale from his grasp. He wanted to shake her, ask her why the hell she'd sleep with Ian. Ask her why she would think to look to him for whatever it was she needed? Emotional satisfaction? Physical satisfaction? Why seek Ian out when he was there?

Her smell moved through his nostrils, and he wanted to taste her. He felt as if her body was beckoning him. Telling him to take it, satisfy it, touch it, give it release. He wanted to slide his tongue over her, have her juices spill over it, swallow it and then bury his face between her legs before he put his cock there. He wanted her so badly. So badly, and he felt like he was losing control. His anger was mingling strongly with his desire for her right now and in the most potent way.

"Well I'm sorry your plans got ruined. Maybe if you'd told me ahead of time…"

Her voice drifted off, and he was glad. He didn't want her to tell him another lie. She'd been avoiding the inevitable confrontation between them. Had been avoiding what was going on between them for months. If she'd known his intentions, she most likely would have blown him off again.

"John, where are you taking me?" she asked, finally noticing that they weren't heading anywhere near Brooklyn.

"We're going to my place."

"Why?"

"Because we need to talk."

"About what?" she asked, sitting up straight.

"About you and me."

She opened her mouth to argue. He could tell she was furious as well, but he shot her a look that made her close her mouth. She was quiet for the rest of the drive, said nothing in the elevator as he held the bags of take-out and flowers in his hands. She walked past him as he opened the door to his loft and stood with her arms folded in front of her. She glared at him as he put the food down on the table, and she picked up the bouquet of roses after he rested the flowers next to it.

"So in addition to you tracking me down at Ian's apartment, following me there and then bringing me here against my will, you want to force me to have a conversation that I told you I didn't want to have yet."

"Why don't you? Give me a reason. Are you scared? Not sure what you feel? Is that why you went looking for Murphy tonight?"

"I didn't go looking for him; he called me."

"Damn it, Joss. You could have…" His anger was boiling over, and his next words came out more harshly than he intended. "You could have said no!"

"Why? Why should I have said no?" she bit back.

"Because…because he's not…"

"Not what? Not what, John? Not you?"

"Yes."

Silence stretched between them, awkward and heavy. Despite her anger at his intrusion on such an intimate moment in her life, a look of understanding briefly crossed her face. There it was. Finally out in the open, and he let out a long breath, feeling a tremendous relief at the weight that suddenly lifted off of him. She shifted her feet, moved the bouquet of roses from one hand to the next, and he saw the familiar knot start to form between her brows. His admission had temporarily knocked the wind out of her, but he hadn't stunned her into total silence.

"Speaking of saying no…what about all the times you've said yes to Zoe Morgan?"

He cursed under his breath, blinking.

"No, you don't want to talk about Zoe, do you? She's your…special friend, never more than one phone call away. I'm sure you've heard her screaming the word yes more than a time or two, but here you are, angry about me and Ian when you're free to walk Zoe Morgan home whenever you want."

Joss knew that Zoe meant nothing to him. Reese knew that she was smarter than that. But he couldn't deny that he felt a small glimmer of hope in thinking that her accusations were tinged with a little bit of jealousy. It was all he had to hold on to, and it would mean that deep down seeing him with someone else had hurt her, if only a little bit. She huffed, blinking back the tears that started to form in her eyes and shook her head.

"Ian can give me the things you can't. He can take me out in public and we don't have to hide. He's not wanted by the CIA. He's not legally dead, and he's not some vigilante whose real name I had to find out on my own because he never trusted me enough to tell me himself."

With each word she spat out, she moved closer to him. And though she was trying to project anger as she listed all of the reasons why they shouldn't pursue a relationship, what he saw behind her eyes was the total opposite. She was scared. She was scared that he was getting too close. The woman who had fearlessly taken on a ring of corrupt cops all on her own was scared of what she was feeling for him.

"Is that what you think? That I don't trust you?"

"I think that you're angry." Her fingers curled around the cellophane, unraveling it from around the roses. "No, you're jealous -"

"Of Murphy?" he interrupted.

"Of him. Of Cal. Of any man who got to touch me cause you never could."

She slammed the flowers against his chest, and the stems scattered in different directions. He watched as they hit the floor and felt hot tension creeping all over his skin. Her words stung as she'd intended, bruised him, and he felt like he needed to strike back.

"Did you like it, Joss? Did you like him touching you? Did you like his hands on your body? Did he make you scream? Make you moan? Make you come? Make you call out his name too?"

"Yes, I did, John," she said defiantly as he moved closer. "I loved every minute of it."

He turned his head to the side, letting the cold smile that crossed his lips hide the pain her words were inflicting.

"Or did you have to pretend it was someone else to get you off?" He needed the words to be true. Needed it like he needed air to breathe. "Pretend it was someone else kissing you in all the right places, someone else moving inside you, turning you out?"

"Shut up."

"What's the matter, Joss? Am I getting a little too close to the truth?"

"I don't have to listen to this shit, and I don't have to stay here."

She stalked past him, tried to head for the door, but he reached out for her.

His hand on her arm was rough, and Joss was genuinely shocked. He'd never touched her in that way. Never so much as raised a hand to her. He looked down at her, eyes burning, a thunderous expression on his face. She looked at his hand, noting the tension on her arm as his fingers bit into her bare skin.

"Let me go, John," she said, quietly.

He did. Immediately, and she could see the hint of regret already evident in his eyes.

But instead of backing away, instead of giving her room, he cupped her face and kissed her. The touch was so light, so fleeting, so unexpected, but it awakened something that was buried deep within her. Something she had been trying to keep buried for months.

He softly teased her lips open, nipped at them till they parted, and he slid his tongue inside. The feel of it against hers was sweet, electric, and she reached up to cup the back of his head. His hand went around her back, drawing her closer, and she moaned at the feel of his hardness pressed against her mound. His hands moved all over her body, and he continued a sweet exploration of her lips. Softly and roughly, tenderly and brutally, and though his tongue felt so sweet, so damn good, her mind was screaming. She wasn't sure she could do this. Not right now. Not when she'd just been with Ian. But he wouldn't let up.

She roughly pulled away from him and took a step back. Her chest was heaving, she felt breathless and shook her head in an attempt to focus, gain her bearings. She was confused. She was angry with him for showing up like he did, for treating her like he just had. Yet, she wanted him too. Just like he clearly wanted her.

When she looked at him again, his eyes were dark, smoldering, and he swallowed, looking like he could barely contain his desire.

He stood rooted to the spot, finally giving her the space she wanted. But in his eyes she could see that he was waiting, hoping, wanting so badly for her to come to him.

A part of her wanted to run, to leave like she had originally planned to. But a part of her needed him to assuage her anger, even though he was the one who had caused it. Her feet seemed to have a mind of their own, and they were moving in his direction. Her clutch slid to the floor from her hand as she closed the small space between them, and in the next moment she was back in his arms, back in his embrace, and the longing that he'd put behind his first kisses increased a hundred fold as he crashed his lips onto hers once more.

He lifted her from the floor, took her across the room, and suddenly she felt the softness of his bedding at her back. He didn't speak, didn't say another word. He simply let his hands and mouth, and tongue do all the talking. As her legs dangled over the edge of the bed, she felt them on her calves, on her shins, on the tender spot near the back of her knees. She felt his hands move fleetingly over her thighs, the touch of his lips kissing her there, and her stomach started to quiver.

He slipped her shoes from her feet, and started a warm trail with his tongue from her knee to her mid thigh. Before going further, he stopped to gaze at her, and she saw a mixture of hunger, ache, but vulnerability in his eyes. Almost as if he was waiting for her permission to continue. She took the hand that had lingered on her knee and raised it higher up on her thigh; it was all the approval he needed. He helped her sit up for a moment and gently pulled her dress over her head. His fingers ghosted quickly over her nipples, down her stomach, and as she laid back, she felt her panties glide down her legs, felt him part her thighs. When his tongue finally touched her at her core, she loudly cried out.

Her moans echoed in the loft, and she was pinned there on his bed, unable to move, unable to breathe as he buried his face between her legs. One after the next her hands balled into fists, gripping the bedding, trying to hold on as best as she could. It was almost unbearable, almost too much, and she felt warmth start to move all over her, around her, through her. She couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop trembling. Not just her legs, but her entire body was having the most powerful reaction to him, and she couldn't control it.

"John….."

Finally she was able to make a sound, and his name was drawn out over her tongue in the form of an almost strangled whimper.

His tongue circled her clit, and there it was. She arched her back, burrowed her head into the mattress and let out a moan that reverberated over the walls around them. She was overcome with emotion as pleasure wracked her body and she felt tears slide down the sides of her face. She couldn't seem to catch her breath, felt as if she could barely focus on her surroundings. With her eyes tightly shut she could hear a condom wrapper, the shuffling of clothing and heard John calling her name.

The tears were still coming, her emotions were still high, still raw, and when he entered her, the flow increased. She put her arms around him as he buried himself within her, as he sank his teeth into her neck. His movements weren't hurried. His movements weren't slow, but they were just deep, and long, and powerful enough to fill her almost to bursting. He spread her legs wider as he thrust into her with purpose.

She cried because she knew what he was doing, and she knew why he was doing it. With Ian, she knew what it had been about. It had only been sex, and though she liked him, though she thought he was a great guy, she had never meant for it to go beyond that.

But this.

This was different. This wasn't John just trying to get into her pants. This was John trying to make her a part of his life, and branding her as his in the process. This was him telling her - physically - just how much she meant to him. And his feelings were deep. They were complex, and they were measured in every stroke, every move, and every groan as he plunged himself inside her.

She gritted her teeth as he started to slam into her, and he drew her knees backwards, pressing the backs of her thighs into the mattress. She sank her nails into his back as he groaned in her ear.

She was about to come.

When she reached her peak, it rocked her body violently and much more intensely than the first time. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, but the crashing tide of his thrusts continued. He was not yet done.

Reese kissed Joss' damp cheeks as he moved inside her. He felt her body tremble with orgasm, felt her nails dig into his back as she came and felt a sense of satisfaction that he'd been able to bring her to ecstatic release a second time.

He continued to stroke her, continued to sink himself into her warmth, hoping that every time he plunged deep into the softness of her core that she'd forget about the way Ian might have touched her. She'd forget about any insecurity she had about him and Zoe. Hoping that the only thing she'd think about and remember from this point on was him and him alone. He wanted and needed that so much.

"Joss…"

He murmured her name as he kissed her lips, murmured it as he quickened his already frenetic pace and twisted his hips as he burrowed deep inside her. He felt her tighten on his shaft, felt the snug fit of her walls draining his seed from his body and grunted loudly as he finally came too.

She felt so small next to him as he gathered her in his arms. He also felt an immediate sense of guilt thinking about how they ended up here tonight. He'd said so many ugly things to her, had put her in a terrible position. He would never have acted that way with her otherwise, but the mere thought of her underneath Murphy as she was with him right now had fucked him up so much emotionally he felt compelled to confront her.

He hadn't meant to make her cry, he thought, as he shifted to his side and pulled her close. He kissed her temple, hoping to soothe some of the pain she was feeling, hoping that the damage that was done tonight hadn't gone so far that it was beyond repair.

She sniffled as her head rested on his chest and he bent his head to kiss her. Her lips felt so good, so soft. Her arms around him made him feel at home, made him feel like he was safe and cared for, and it was with annoyed reluctance that he pulled out of her and left her side to go to the bathroom. He cut the light on while he disposed of the condom, washed up in the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. Her lipstick was smeared on his face and neck, and on his shoulder was a small, faint bruise where she must have bit him. He smirked a little, and as the warm water on his hand splashed over his cock, he was reminded of how warm she'd felt inside. Warm, wet, and snug like a glove.

He wanted her again, and when he re-joined her in the bed, he was already semi-hard. She lay back against the pillows with the sheet wrapped around her, and in the dim light of the lamp by the bed, she looked almost ethereal. He pulled the sheet away as she turned to him, and he let the weight of his cock slide over her thigh as he pulled her close to kiss her. He loved the way she moaned as he moved his hand between her legs and slipped his finger inside her. She was still wet, still warm, and he wanted nothing more than to make her tremble again.

So he did.

He lay between her legs while he let his mouth trail over her, teased her and licked her and made her gasp in erotic bliss. He took his time lingering on each nipple, each golden inch of her skin, making sure that every part of her was on fire.

Then he excited her to frenzy, touching her in ways that he'd never touched anyone before. He bit and nipped, and drove her to the heights of want and desperation till she clawed at him to satisfy the desire he created. He slipped another condom on, then he slipped inside her and took her on another path to pleasure and ecstasy.

And he took her again. And again. And somewhere during their lovemaking, his pleasure gave way to a release of his emotions. Somewhere in between a clash of lips and teeth and fingers and legs, he became filled up with the significance of the moment. Joss was in his arms, in his bed and in his life in a way he'd only dreamed of for so long.

"I love you, Joss," he said, as tears began to spill onto his cheeks. "I love you," he said as he buried himself within her. "I love you…I love you…I love you…so much…"

She cupped his face and kissed him while he continued to slide into her roughly and sweetly, as he continued to whisper the words over and over until they were both finally sated. Until they were exhausted and could do nothing more but collapse onto the bed, and even then he couldn't stop saying the words.

He considered it nothing short of a miracle that when he finally closed his eyes, she was still there, asleep in his arms.

When Reese woke up, the sun was bright outside, and the early morning light cast a warm glow over the bed. He glanced at the time on his cell phone and it was past 7am, the latest he'd slept in a while. He remembered the events of the night, smiled, then frowned when he looked around to see that Joss wasn't in bed beside him. He sat up in a panic, threw the sheet off his naked body and walked around the apartment calling her name. He turned his head sharply, feeling relieved when he heard the sound of her voice coming from the direction of the bathroom.

"I'm still here."

She strolled out, fresh from the shower and fully dressed with her clutch in her hand, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Her face was a composed mask that he wasn't able to read.

"But not for much longer."

"What?" he grinned, missing the soberness of her tone.

She walked over to him, her heels sounding on the wood floor. The beautiful vision of her in the morning light drew a strong reaction from him; pretty soon he wouldn't be able to hide it. He reached out to put his arms around her, but she put a hand up to stop him.

"Don't come any closer."

"Joss? What's the matter?"

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as if she was thinking of the right words to express her thoughts. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he swallowed hard.

"What you did last night was extremely out of line. It was an invasion of my privacy. The things you said were a disrespect to me as a woman, and the way that you acted…it was such a disrespect to our friendship."

She paused for a moment, and he could see her eyes start to water with tears. She blinked them away furiously before she began again.

"You acted like I was some toy that Ian was playing with, and you were jealous cause he got to play with it before you did. So you had to take it back."

"Joss, that isn't what -"

"Don't you dare stand there and pretend that it's not true. That's what this was all about last night. The things you said, the way you made love to me; it was all just a way for you to take me back from Ian so you could have me all to yourself again. I knew the type of relationship you had with Zoe. While I might have had some misgivings about it, ultimately it was none of my business, and I had yet to come to terms with how I felt about you anyway, so it didn't really matter. And even if I had…even if I'd finally decided to explore my feelings for you I would never have done to you what you did to me last night, John. You wouldn't have deserved that, and neither did I."

She shook her head and headed for the door.

"Joss, don't go."

"You know, everything you did last night…coupled with your incessant stalking, you not having any concept of boundaries when it comes to me and my personal life…these were all reasons why I hesitated so much when I thought of moving forward with you. And that's not even including the trust issues you've shown with me."

"I'm sorry," he said, pleading as he moved towards her. "I'm sorry, Joss. Tell me how to fix it. I'll do whatever you want. Just. Don't. Go."

Not like this, he thought. He'd been wrong last night. He'd naively thought as she lay in his arms and fallen asleep instead of leaving Ian's condo in the middle of the night that things would be alright this morning. He'd been horribly wrong. And it seemed that she was hurt a thousand times worse as she looked at him in the light of day.

"I know you are. I know you're sorry, John. But I still don't want you to think that because we…made love…that it changes anything. I don't belong to you, just like I don't belong to Ian. I am my own person. And I just…I need time to process what happened between me and you last night and what's between me and Ian."

"Joss, wait. You and Ian…do -"

"No, John," she interrupted. "We never discussed Zoe, so you don't get to ask me that. And if you do love me-"

"You know that I do," he said, desperately.

He wished that she would scream or throw something at him like she did last night. Anything else besides this calm, soft voice of hers would do right now. It was tearing him up inside. And deep down she knew he was right. Everything she was saying was true.

"If you love me and if you want to fix this, you'll give me the space that I'm asking for."

She didn't wait for him to respond. She simply turned and left. He watched her go, feeling helpless, feeling alone, wanting to go after her, but knowing it was best to grant her request for time and space.

He stared at the door after she left, wondering why it was that she was the only woman in his life that he couldn't stay away from, couldn't walk away from. He'd been able to re-enlist in the Army and break things off with Jessica, had stayed away from her for almost ten years after, but staying away from Joss was like asking him to rip his own heart out of his chest. It was damn near impossible for him to do.

He finally returned to the bed, sat down with his head in his hands and realized that the next few days, weeks, or however long Joss needed were going to be the longest moments of his life. The whole situation had ended up in shambles, just like the roses that were still scattered on the floor.