Disclaimer: If they were mine, I wouldn't make the fans wait so long for a freaking kiss!

Words: Didn't count them. Just read the chapter =)

AN: My sister-in-law was the one who made me write this chapter and the following one. She read it on fanfiction last night and come over this morning to knock some sense into me and make me keep going with this plot. I wanted it to be a one-shot but I'm on bed-rest and there was a 7 months pregnant woman yelling at me. I sold my soul to the devil and I'm officially going to continue this story. Enjoy =)
P.s. – Dear Daniela, if you think about coming over tomorrow morning to see if the final chapter is already written, DON'T! It's written but you will read it when my readers read it!

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Kensi's POV

I'm using him.

Or he's using me.

At this point, I'm not sure which one of those is true.

All I know is that we should stop doing this. But I'm not strong enough to tell him that. If this is the only way I can have him, then I'm going to enjoy it. That's why I let him in when he shows up at my door, a bit over midnight. I open my mouth to say something, wanting him to know how I feel about this 'arrangement'.

But one look into his eyes is more than enough to make me change my mind.

It's not like we're hurting anyone by doing this.

We're both young, single and healthy. We spent way too long trying to ignore the sexual attraction between us, the sexual tension. So this might be healthy to us, a way to get rid of said tension and stress.

He leads me to the couch and turns off the light. We don't kiss and sometimes I wonder what would be like if I just reached for his lips.

Would he back away from me?

Would he kiss me back?

Would he leave and never come back?

It's the third question that makes me more afraid of acting upon how I feel. I don't think I would be able to see him leave. Sure, this arrangement is probably the farthest thing from okay but at least I get to have him all to myself for a while. I get to know what it feels like to have him on top of me, his body warming mine, his hands traveling through my curves as he moves inside of me.

We don't do foreplay because that would make this, whatever this is, too intimate. There's a thin line between what we're doing and intimacy and I'm well aware that the slightest movement can throw me over that line. The thing is, I'm not sure if I would be able to draw it back after I crossed it.

That's why we don't use my bed either. We've done this in my bedroom but never on the bed. He took me against the wall a while ago and even on the floor. But the bed is forbidden territory.

Sometimes, after he leaves, I lay in my bed and wonder what would be like to have him there by my side.

Would he cuddle me or just roll over and fall asleep? I can tell you the answer to that question. He would cuddle me.

I know Marty Deeks well enough to know he's nothing but a gentleman. Even during our activities, he's never rough with me. He always uses slow movements at first, to make sure that I have a somewhat proper warm-up and that he won't hurt me.

And he always allows me to tumble over the edge first.

There are nights in which I fight to stay on top, to stay in control of whatever this is. He never puts up much of a fight and lets me do as I please. What I'm sure he doesn't know is that I never do as I please.

Every single time that happens, I want to kiss him. I want to run my hands all over his body and take my sweet time exploring him. I want to turn on the lights to see the brilliant blue of his eyes staring at me. I want him to hold me as I come down from my high. God, I want to be able to moan without being scared.

Yes, I'm scared to moan. Don't get me wrong on this one. We might not have foreplay or kisses or a bed but being with him is a mind-blowing experience. But I don't moan because I'm afraid that those sounds will scare him off. I know how ridiculous it sounds but that thought is in my head and there's nothing I can do to get rid of it now.

Whenever we're together, I feel like if I moan too loudly it will break him and make him realize what he's been doing. I'm afraid that will be enough to make him leave and never come back.

Tonight is not different.

He takes me to the couch, takes off my jeans and underwear and gets on top of me.

My shirt remains on and that's a constant reminder that he's never even seen my breasts. That, right there, should set off alarm bells in my mind.

But all I can think about is how right it feels when he enters me. I'm not prepared, though, and wince slightly at the feeling. He freezes and I feel him pull out of me.

In my mind, I keep hitting myself for making a sound. This is what I've been scared of all along.

But he doesn't leave. I feel his finger on my clit and everything else seems to fade. He enters me again and it doesn't hurt this time. Still, he freezes inside of me for a few seconds. I want to think he's doing it to make me feel comfortable but I know he's just getting comfortable.

After we're done, he gets up and leaves.

We never talk about it and I keep telling myself it's better like this.

However, tonight, my brain just isn't buying what I'm trying to sell. That's why I put my underwear on and curl on the couch, not even trusting my legs to carry me to the bed right now. I stay on the couch, allowing a few tears to run down my cheeks.

This isn't me.

I'm not weak and I don't cry.

But I want him. I want him for more than just this and I wish I was strong enough to tell him. But I'm not.

Still, I promise myself I won't let him in the next time he knocks on my door. I promise myself this will never happen again.

But that's a promise broken right from the start because I know I won't do that. As long as he keeps coming back, I will keep opening the door for him.

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Thank you for your reviews, alerts and favorites. It means a lot to me to know you liked to read about this side of Deeks. Fear not, dear readers, because there's one more chapter to go and I will not complete this story until I make everything alright between these two.

Reviews, however, make me want to give them a very happy ending (if you know what I mean).
Love,
Sarah