It continues
Once Brennan was gone, Shalimar did what she'd said she would, namely lay down, finding that she was lonely without the sense of him being near. Just because she didn't really want to talk didn't mean that she wanted to be totally alone. Maybe she should have gone with him.
She'd been feeling so much closer to him lately. She had developed a bond with Brennan that she didn't have with the others, not even with Jesse. And that bond had been getting stronger. Last night...it had felt good being in his arms. She'd trusted him, felt safe. She'd felt loved. But they were just friends. Right. Friends. That's why he'd offered to be her Valentine – to make her feel better because he was her friend and he loved her as a friend. It was innocent enough.
And what she'd asked last night had been innocent, too. They'd been so close at the club, so close afterward when he'd helped her to bed. She remembered the way his arms had tightened around her, the way she'd let herself relax into his warmth as they stood at the top of the stairs. All that she had wanted was for him to hold her while she slept, maybe because her holiday jinx had her feeling more than a little vulnerable. She'd also had a fair amount to drink. Maybe it was better that he hadn't stayed.
She knew the instant that he was back, even before he called in over the comlink. She hadn't been making it up, the time that she'd told him that she could sense him from a hundred feet away. It wasn't like that with anyone but him.
"I'm pulling into the garage now," he told her. "Everything okay?"
That made her smile. Brennan really could be a mother hen sometimes, though he would never admit to it.
"I'm fine," she told him, then added, "I'm glad you're back."
She could almost feel his smile. "I'll be in a few minutes."
She sighed.
That's it, an inner voice chastised. Let him know how lonely you are for his company.
She ignored it and got up, leaving her room and walking into the common room, standing by one of the chairs and watching the tunnel that led in from the garage, waiting. She was studying the floor in front of her when she heard his footsteps. When she looked up, he was there, walking toward her. The way he was smiling, it was like he had known that she would be there.
Was she that obvious?
Something was up. Brennan looked...nervous? No. That wasn't the right word.
"I, um, got these for you..."
She smelled the flowers before she saw them, their soft, sweet scent reaching her a second before he produced the bouquet from behind his back. That didn't leave her any less surprised at being handed a dozen beautiful red long-stem roses, just for her.
He smiled, a little shyly. "I hope you like them."
Like them? They were gorgeous! It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for her, and on a day when things usually weren't so great.
"They're beautiful, Brennan," she said when she could finally remember how to form coherent thoughts and put together words into speech.
Brennan couldn't help smiling, seeing her like this, her face lit up by a bright smile. It was a vast improvement over her earlier melancholy. She was much more beautiful this way. The flowers had been worth the trip, just to see her so happy.
"Happy Valentines Day."
Her smile faded. She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing just the slightest bit.
"What's this about, Brennan?"
Her reaction unsettled him, and he tried not to let it show. Had he done something wrong? He kept his warm smile in place and decided to forge ahead.
"It's about giving you better memories," he told her, very softly. That much, he meant with all of his heart.
Her mood did another one-eighty – she was smiling again, much to his relief. Just as suddenly as her mood had shifted, she was stepping close and throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. For just an instant, he was at as loss as to how he should react. She'd surprised him. But then his arms came around her, hugging her tightly back, as naturally as always. He loved this affectionate side of her nature – she didn't share it with everyone. He was glad that she shared it with him. He realized, too, with a sudden flutter in his stomach, that he liked feeling her body pressed so tight against his...
She released him, her arms dropping away, and took a step back. One of her hands caught his and gave it a squeeze.
"Thank you, Brennan."
He actually blushed.
He didn't expect her to kiss him, not on the lips. And he wasn't expecting the spark between them the instant their lips touched in what was only supposed to be a friendly kiss. Her lips lingered sweetly on his, and suddenly they had crossed a boundary that they had been hovering on the edge of all this time without ever even realizing it.
Maybe they had realized it, and just chose to ignore it.
He felt her body stiffen, hesitating when he pulled her close. Gently, he coaxed her with his mouth and she relaxed, mouth melting beneath his, body melting in his embrace, shivering as his tongue slid between her lips. The smell of roses surrounded them, and she kissed him back, hand coming to rest along his jaw. He found out then just how sweetly responsive she could be, feeling all of her strength and all of her heart in just that one perfect kiss.
In it there was wonder, discovery, and surrender to something that had been there for longer than they ever knew. And, there was desire – he tasted it in the heat of her mouth, felt it in the way her tongue slid against his, in the pounding of her heart against his chest.
When it was over, Shalimar looked up at him with bewildered and at the same time deliciously wanton eyes. He let his brow rest against hers. His hands covered hers where they rested on his chest.
"Still not looking for a valentine?" he asked thickly. God, he could barely speak; she'd taken his breath away.
"I think I've changed my mind."
Her voice was thick with desire, too. She was shaking like a leaf in his arms. She wanted him, but there was vulnerability in her eyes. He kissed her again, slow and deep, backing off just a bit. He wanted to reassure her. Slowly, he felt her melting all over again – she could trust him. She didn't have to be afraid...
He took the bouquet from her and tossed it onto the chair. A few petals came loose, fluttering to the dark polished floor. It didn't matter. The roses weren't important anymore. Gently, his fingers brushed over her bare midriff – the hard, flat muscles tensed beneath his touch. The sound of her soft, sweet moan nearly did him in.
"Is this what you want?" he breathed against her ear, feeling her tongue making a wet patch on his neck.
She moved to kiss the hollow of his throat, and he felt her small nod. Hand tangling in his hair, she pulled his head down, bringing his mouth hard against hers. Her teeth grazed his lower lip, and she bit deliberately, letting him know exactly what she wanted. Pushing him back, she looked up at him – her eyes flashed, dark slits within two glowing orbs, before returning to warm, melted brown.
With his hand, he caressed her flushed cheek. "My room or yours?"
She pulled him hard into her, into another passionate kiss that ignited a dangerous blaze of desire in both of them.
"Your room," she said against his mouth, her tongue caressing his lips. "My bed is too small."
They stumbled their way toward the door to his room, kissing and touching as they went, Shalimar pushing him urgently. He got the door open, she pushed, and he went careening backwards, pulling her with him. His legs bumped into the bed, bringing the lower half of his body to an abrupt stop. His momentum kept the rest of him going, and he fell back onto the bed, Shalimar tumbling down on top of him.
It wasn't the fall that left him breathless; it was being with her now, like this, looking up into her smiling face and knowing what she was asking of him. She leaned down to kiss him, her hair falling around their faces in a golden curtain of soft, shimmering waves. He was surrounded by the sweet smell of it, feeling it brush silky-soft on his face, and the scent of her warm skin. He wasn't sure if it was that making him dizzy, or if it was the way she was kissing him and the sweet feeling on her weight on top of him. Maybe it was a little of both.
Then she was pressing up, moving away. For one terrified moment, he thought that she was leaving him, that she had changed her mind...
She wasn't leaving.
He sat up, looking into eyes that burned into his. Standing there, she reached for him, and he pulled her close, his hands splaying over her hips. They skimmed up over her waist, pushing her camisole along with them. He kissed her flat, flawless stomach, letting his lips and tongue trail over skin that burned with heat. With her hands resting on his shoulders, she closed her eyes, head falling back in pleasured abandon. She leaned into him, relaxing, surrendering to the feeling of his mouth moving on her and the sensations that were moving through her body. She had no idea that it could be like this with him...
When his tongue dipped into the shadowed dimple of her navel, she gasped, shuddering hard. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.
Then he did it again.
Her hands flew to either side of his head, forcing him back, and in an eye blink she was straddling his lap, catching the hem of his t-shirt in her hands. Pulling it off over his head she tossed it aside. She touched him, her hands gliding over his torso, learning ever curve, every angle, and every plane with incredible tenderness. He held her, letting her explore, feeling the trail of her soft kisses on his shoulders, collarbones and neck.
His hands swept up under her light camisole, skimming over soft skin and lithe muscle that trembled at his touch. Oh god, she was so strong and so beautiful, and she had him so hard now that he couldn't think. It was all he could do to hold himself at bay, unless he wanted this to be over right now.
He didn't want that.
At his gentle insistence, her arms lifted to let him sweep the light cotton material over her head and off. He took his time exploring her, tasting her, learning every single place that she liked to be touched. He felt her arms tighten around him, listening to the soft, pleasured sounds she was making against his ear. He could feel her racing heart when he pulled her tight against his chest, bare skin to bare skin, and captured her mouth with his.
It wasn't until her hands fumbled at the fastener of his jeans that he realized this was really happening. This was real. It wasn't a dream. Shalimar, this beautiful woman that he was holding in his arms, was really going to give herself to him. She wanted him. She wanted to make love with him.
"Brennan..." she said breathlessly against his ear, asking him, with that single sweet utterance of his name, for everything.
He couldn't deny her. Her want of him pulled on him the same way the moon tugged at the earth. It was what she had been since the day they met, a force effecting his life in ways that he could never have imagined. She'd worked her way into his heart – he had been falling for her all this time, the thread of his life becoming hopelessly entwined with hers after the simple twist of fate that had brought them together. He'd felt it, and never known it for what it was. He loved her. He had been loving her since the moment they met.
Whether she knew it or not, she loved him, too. He felt it in every kiss, every touch, in the space between every beat of her heart. It was in her eyes when she framed his face in her hands and smiled down at him, drawing a tender line down the column of his throat and flattening her palms against the flat planes of his chest.
She rocked her body against his, seeking, wanting, and he obliged, pulling them back onto the bed, rolling her beneath him. Kissing, licking, touching, feeling, the rest of their clothing fell away.
Bracing himself, he slid the first little bit inside of her. He kissed her mouth, feeling her rise beneath him, taking him deeper. She was smaller than he thought she would be... Slowly, he sank himself all the way into her. She made a strangled sound and whimpered, trembling.
Holding himself still, he dropped his forehead against hers. "Am I hurting you?"
"No," she answered, breath coming fast. Her tongue caressed his ear. "Brennan...please..."
With any other woman, he would have begun then. For her, he waited. He wanted to give her this one perfect moment, to know, to feel...
The world pulsed and surged as he began to move, languorous and deep, inside of her. She felt so good, moving with him, her fingers seeking the line of his back, the column of his spine, digging into his flesh. He could feel the coiling tension within her tightening body. It wouldn't be long...
He stroked deeply once, twice, and her body went taut – he held her tight, feeling the rippling tremors of her release as her body quickened beneath his. Groaning, he pushed into her, letting the waves of her climax pull him over the edge; she could only cling to him as he went rigid against her, inside of her, coming hot and hard into her still throbbing body.
It was so good that, for one moment, neither could tell where one of them ended and the other began.
When he could breathe again, when the roaring of his blood in his ears had subsided, he looked down at her, still feeling the shivering aftershocks of her pleasure. Lovingly, he brushed a stray lock of golden hair from her face and gently kissed her forehead. With his lips he traced the feathery arch of her brows, the perfect line of her mouth, his heart swelling unexpectedly with love for her.
He started to ease his body off of hers – her hands clamping down on his hips stopped him. Her eyes opened, their warm depths shining with moisture.
"Please, don't leave," she said.
He couldn't. At that moment he would have done anything that she asked of him.
He eased back down, shifting position slightly as he filled her once more, and she inhaled sharply. Her body went tight, and at first he thought something was wrong. Then he felt it, the telltale rippling going through her... He watched her face as it happened, watched her eyes close, her lips part, heard her whimper helplessly as her body surged and he stroked slowly, deeply inside of her, helping her wring every last drop of pleasure from her unexpected release.
When her shuddering finally ceased, she relaxed beneath him, totally and utterly spent. For a few moments she lay quiet, her arms linked around his neck.
"That was nice," she purred softly, a lazy, sexy smile turning up the corners of her mouth.
Grinning, he bumped his forehead against hers. "Just nice?"
She gasped, feeling him move inside her, reminding her just how good it had been. When she looked up at him, gazing deep into his eyes, her expression softened, her eyes turning infinitely warm.
"It was wonderful," she said, the same warmth that was in her eyes having made it's way into her voice.
"Still having a bad day?" he asked, grinning again.
Her fingertips brushed his cheek. "Mmm, not anymore. This is the best Valentines Day I've ever had. I'm glad it was with you."
What he felt for her at that moment, he couldn't have described with words. With his hand, he gently caressed her face, made that much more beautiful by the love he saw in it.
"We finally got together, huh, Shal?"
Biting her lower lip, she smiled. "Yeah."
Later, much later, she lay entwined with him, tangled in the sheets, listening to his heart beating beneath her ear. Part of her still couldn't believe that she was here with him, like this. It was...perfect. She hadn't just given him her body – she had given him her heart. All this time, she had been falling for him...
"I think I'm in love with you," she whispered, almost asleep.
His arms tightened around her, and she snuggled more securely into his warmth. When he kissed the top of her head, she felt his smile. Feeling his fingers threading gently through her hair, she drifted into contented sleep.
