Hidy ho, homies! Thanks for all of the nice comments on this new wintry series! I hope you've taken time to check out pal Sleepless in Atlanta's story, "The First Cut is the Sweetest". It's in my favorites, if you need to search for it (meaning, for some reason you don't have her on author alert and/or sit around waiting for her to post like I do, ha!)

Okay, here is another 'first' between B&B: The first time Brennan catches Booth reading one of her manuscripts.

-b&b-

Brennan finished washing her face, using a plush towel to dry it off before she pulled her hair free from a loose ponytail at the top of her head. The ends of her hair were still a little damp from her earlier shower, but she didn't mind, and she kind of liked the way her hair curled up at the ends because of it. Humming softly, she adjusted her robe and padded from the bathroom to her bedroom. But the sight she found there made her immediately pause.

"Booth! What is that?"

He barely looked up at her and just lifted the manuscript in her direction after checking the cover. "Chilled…to the Bone, apparently." He shrugged a shoulder and finally met her eyes. "Pretty good."

"I know it's pretty good," she hissed and tried to climb up onto the bed over him to grab her manuscript back. "I wrote it. Me," she reiterated. "Meaning, not you."

When she reached for the papers, he kept them out of her reach, quickly rolling to his side and away from her.

"Booth!" she insisted, and he grunted out a casual "What?" as he deftly deflected her attempts to retrieve her manuscript. He kept on reading, or at least, it looked like he was still reading. Brennan wasn't quite sure. But at the very least, he wasn't even looking at her.

"You're not supposed to be reading that," Brennan huffed, rising to her knees beside him. He finally laid the manuscript down over his bare stomach and chest and eyed her.

"Why not?" he asked simply.

"First of all, it's private," she pointed out, reaching for it and grabbing it, her eyes narrowing when he didn't put up a fight anymore.

"Private," he repeated, his tone almost bland, and she rather thought it wasn't fair that he looked incredibly gorgeous and sexy when he turned and leaned on his side, his face resting on his hand and his body only covered by a pair of old worn dark gray sweats riding low on his waist.

"Yes," she answered, her voice rising slightly in pitch.

"Huh," he considered, lazily tracing a pattern on the bedspread near one of her bare knees. "I thought we didn't have secrets or private things, Bones."

She tilted her head to the side in annoyance. "This is different. You didn't even ask."

His lips curved up a bit.

"Probably because you know I would have said no if you'd asked," she beat him to the admission, and when his lips quirked and his eyes sparkled, she knew she was right.

"Come on, Bones," his voice took on the same tone it did when he wanted something from her, usually something quite delicious like sleeping in on Sunday mornings or massaging his muscles after a hockey game or getting some ice cream even after he'd had pie for dessert. "You've never once let me look at one of those things. I think by now I've earned the right."

"Earned the right?" she scoffed. "You don't earn the right to steal other people's things."

"Steal!" he sat up, his voice growing a bit huffy and annoyed. "Hey, I didn't steal anything. It was just sitting there, in the kitchen!"

"My kitchen," she interrupted, though she immediately knew her words were irrational. It was no surprise when Booth's face grew darker.

"Oh," he laughed humorlessly. "Are you fucking serious? We're doing that?"

"The only thing we're doing is talking about why you don't have the right to read what is my property."

His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. The word felt like metal in her own mouth, and Brennan steeled herself against what she thought was maybe hurt in his brown gaze. "Your property?" he repeated. He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and shook his head as he looked around the bedroom.

"A manuscript is, legally," she offered. "Not available to the public."

"I'm not the public, Bones," he hissed, and then shut his mouth quickly.

"You should have just asked me if you could have read it, Booth. I would have-"

"Said no," he interrupted this time. "You mentioned that. So yeah," he sighed. "I'm sorry, then. It won't happen again."

She didn't need to see hurt in his eyes because she could hear it in his voice. "Most authors don't show their manuscripts to anyone."

"Bullshit," he shook his head and laughed. "Come on, Bones. Seriously? Come on. Those author notes or whatever the hell you people put at the beginnings or ends of your books. There's always a long, stupid list of names of people…people the author insists helped make the book possible."

"I hate those lists," Brennan said. "I find them superficial and self-serving."

"Me too," Booth flipped his hand in her direction and then pointed. "But there is always one name, one name, Bones…where you know the author is being sincere. Someone the author really trusts. And that person almost always has read the manuscript, and has given invaluable feedback or whatever, and..."

His voice trailed off and his jaw tensed as he stared down at his hands in his lap.

Brennan's lips pursed as she considered what to say. "I have dedicated my books to you," she offered.

He met her eyes, and she saw that they were softening a little bit. "That's not the same thing."

When she tensed, his hand shot out and captured hers. "But you know I love that," he insisted. "I just…"

His eyes begged her to understand, but she couldn't, at least not without knowing more. "Why is this such a big deal?" she asked, her voice a near whisper.

"Why won't you just let me read it?" he turned the question back on her.

She frowned. "Manuscripts can be somewhat…personal," she tried to explain. "Often my editors can be harsh, and…that is not something I particularly enjoy." Her chin jutted out a bit. "Obviously they are less than competent when it comes to the technical aspects of the characters' work, but still…I dislike when people see less than the perfect finished product."

His hand was still wrapped around hers, and he linked their fingers together, the movement soft and comfortable at the same time. "I don't mind less than perfect," he murmured. "And," he repeated. "I'm not people…"

"I know," Brennan moved closer to him and pressed her free hand against his bare chest. "But I want you to have the best," she countered, slipping one leg over his until she was gently straddling his waist.

Booth stared up at her and relaxed into the mattress when she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She wasn't always verbally affectionate, and he could always see it in her eyes when she was trying to convey everything she felt for him. It usually resulted in soft touches and sweet kisses. Sure enough, when he lightly palmed her waist, she wrapped her arms around his neck and touched his mouth with hers. "I have the best," his eyes twinkled up at her when she pulled back to stare down at him. He traced one hand up to cup the back of her neck and he pulled her down for another kiss. "I want everything, Bones." He pressed his forehead to hers and stroked her back. "I want to be the one."

"You are," she promised, proving her words with another kiss against his throat. Her lips seemed to float over his skin, from his neck to his wide shoulders and across his chest. Little soft kisses and impressed murmurs at his musculature left him breathless and incapable of doing anything but basking in her affection.

Her fingers joined her mouth, and she touched him all over, quickly sliding his pants down his legs and discarding them to the side of the bed. Her bare legs brushed against his, and between their bodies, his eager erection twitched against her. He frowned at the cotton barrier her robe presented and took action, impatiently fisting the material in his hands and shoving it upward until her gently rotating hips fell, bare and warm, against his own skin. "Bones," he gasped, when her wetness kissed the underside of his shaft. "Yes, oh…that's it," he groaned when she sank tighter against him and rubbed him back and forth.

Brennan peeled her robe from her body, leaving her completely bare to his gaze and touch. "Here," she demanded huskily, pulling his hands up to her breasts and squeezing once before letting her own hands fall to his shoulders. She used the leverage to slide over him again and again, the swollen head of his cock teasing them both when it bumped against her clit with every forward glide. Soon she was rocking in short, frantic movements, her wetness mingling with his as he dripped with pre-cum, his body desperate to be buried inside her. Booth leaned forward and sucked one of her tight nipples into his mouth, and Brennan gasped, her arms nearly giving out at the sensation. She chanted his name, mixed with encouragements and arched her hips until the head of his cock was positioned at her opening. She slid down just a fraction, until the stiff tip was captured within her tight pussy opening. Fisting his base, she rose up and off of him and then down and onto him, only going deep enough that he barely entered her.

Booth fisted the bedcovers beneath him. "Bones, I need in you. Please. All the way, baby," he begged. His neck was flushed a dark red, and his eyes were glimmering with barely restrained passion.

Brennan moved until her face was only an inch away from his. "You're the one," she said before slanting her mouth over his and sheathing him inside her in one fast, deep stroke.

He groaned against her mouth, his tongue hard against hers and his cock so, so hard inside her.

Her manuscript fell to the bedroom floor when he palmed her hips and flipped them until she was beneath him. Booth grabbed her hands and lifted them over their heads, keeping their hips pinned together as he filled her over and over.

Brennan wrapped her legs around him and smiled at the way his eyes grew hooded and his lips parted. Her own eyelids fluttered when he changed his angle slightly and moved into her with a different rotation. The firm ridge of his cock rode the underside of her walls, and she began to writhe beneath him, clenching him until he was as frantic as she was, pistoning into her so fast she thought they might catch fire.

There was only one place for all of that delicious friction to go, and it convalesced inward, gathering between them so tightly that they both froze, almost suspended in slow motion as pleasure wrapped around them and then scattered fiercely throughout their bodies.

Booth's face was pressed to the pillow near her head and he tried to catch his breath. His fingers skimmed down her arms, and Brennan flinched a bit—ticklish, but too replete to fully even react. Booth planted his hands on the bed and groaned as he slipped out of her satisfied body and flopped to his back beside her.

Brennan let her eyes stay closed for another delicious moment before she placed her hand on his thigh. "Mmmmm, Booth," she sighed, gathering up enough energy to turn and look at him. He was staring at the ceiling, but when she said his name, he turned to look at her. She admired the flush on his cheeks and the way his hair was spiky and messy. He was beautifully disheveled and still charming. For as long as she'd known him, she'd found it nearly impossible to refuse him anything, if she felt he really could benefit from it. That he was so convinced he could benefit from all of her made her tense sometimes, but now, here with him, she felt relaxed and confident that she could trust him. "You can read my manuscript, Booth."

A smile curved up one side of his mouth and he turned his head again, eyes closed and mouth a full smile when he lifted one fist just above his stomach and pumped it in the air in victory. Brennan chuckled and moaned as she turned over on her stomach to move closer to him. She laid an arm over his stomach and placed a kiss on his shoulder. It always happened that way; once she let him in a little, she found it hard to resist him at all. He turned and kissed her again, and she knew he understood.

-b&b-

The next morning…

Brennan woke up to the sound of pages being turned. She blinked open one eye to see Booth sitting up in bed, the manuscript for her next book firmly in front of him. She smiled and shook her head before rolling onto her back and stretching. "Coffee?" she asked, and he grunted what she assumed to be a yes.

She padded to the kitchen and poured them both cups, yawning as she walked back to their bedroom. He looked up when she entered and smiled. "You know, Bones…" he began as he accepted his coffee and took a sip. "I have an idea for this part, where this first suspect is-"

Brennan laughed. "If I wanted your advice, I would have asked for it."

Booth just grinned confidently and leaned toward her with a kiss. "Advice comes with the whole package, baby," he murmured against her lips before settling onto his back.

-b&b-