After six rounds of charades ( including a round where Michonne pretended to be a bunny and Rick guessed 'Devil' and another round in which Enid mimicked 'jack-hammering' and Rick guessed 'pogo stick') Rick was declared the worst player in the history of charades. After charades, Enid demanded a game of Scrabble and Carl obliged her for the price of a game of Monopoly, which took hours. After two boxes of Pop Tarts, a bag of nacho cheese Doritos and a jug of grape Kool-aid the party began to wind down.
Finally Carl and his friends departed. Carl walked Enid home and Rick begged Michonne not to fall asleep while he went to pick up Judith from Daryl's house. Michonne pinky swore that she would be wide awake when he returned and had all intentions of waiting up to put finality to a day of unnecessary waiting. Rick was determined to snatch Judith up and be home in 20 minutes, tops. They both failed.
"Hey, man." Daryl greeted Rick as he opened the front door to him.
"Thanks for watching her." Rick gave Daryl a pat to the back as he followed him into the living room.
"No problem, man. But she's still asleep." Daryl informed Rick as he closed the door. "She knocked a couple bottles back and we listened to some Skynyrd. She asked me for a cigarette but I wouldn't give her one." Daryl joked. "You might as well let her stay the night.
"You didn't have any trouble getting her to sleep?" Rick asked with hope.
"Naw, man. She passes out when she drinks too much. I'll bring her to you in the morning and you can deal with the hangover."
Rick was a little disappointed that Judith still went to sleep for Daryl without all the fuss she gives him but he perked at the thought of a baby-free night when he got back to Michonne. He made no further inquiries. "Well I guess I'll see you and the little lush in the morning. Thanks again." He turned to leave.
"Hey, Rick. Let me ask you something." Daryl started as he sat on the arm of a dark brown Chesterfield. "You know how pissed Beth got when we were arguing and Carol said she was acting like a little girl?"
"Yeah." Rick answered quickly shifting his stance, eager to leave.
"I talked to her yesterday."
"Who? Carol?"
"Naw, Beth. She apologized and everything. She said she wants to move in here, she misses me, she's tired of staying with Glenn and Maggie… anyway, man," Daryl lowered his voice and leaned into Rick, "Carol's always over here. We have a good time together. We sit out back and shoot the shit, share a coffin nail or two. Sometimes she's watching Little Ass Kicker and we'll just hang out… she taught me the trick of how to get her to sleep…"
"Oh, yeah? How do you do it?" Rick asked trying not to sound so desperate.
"Why? So you can laugh at our technique?" Daryl chuckled. "That's okay, man, I know daddy knows best."
Rick mustered up a soft snort of nervous laughter. "Come on, man. It ain't that. I just…"
Daryl cut him short. "Anyway man, look. How am I gonna do this?" He entreated. "I want Beth to come, I guess. But she's gonna pitch a fit about Carol. Like, I don't know man, how do you handle things like this with Michonne there?"
"Handle things like what?"
"Like, Okay, so you spend some time with Deanna. You guys gotta talk about stuff, right?"
"Yeah. I meet with her almost every day."
"And Michonne doesn't bitch or get jealous or anything?"
"Why would Michonne be jealous of Deanna?" Rick was attempting to understand.
"I don't know. Chicks get jealous, man."
"Look man I don't have any advice to give. I don't know what…"
Daryl interrupted him again and began to pour out a deluge of issues and inquiries. Before Rick knew it he had been there nearly two hours. While he was there Carl popped his head in Daryl's door to let his dad know he was staying over with his friends. I gotta get outta here. And when Rick finally escaped, he tried not to run the blocks back to his house. He could not, however, stop himself from jogging in his boots and praying that she would be ready for him. She wasn't.
She didn't move an inch even when he closed the door. "Nooooooo." He whispered and folded himself in disappointment. Frustration made him throw his head back and sigh. He walked over to her asleep on the couch. Look at her. This is my woman. Always was. She had cleaned up the mess the kids left from the looks of things and stayed downstairs awaiting his return. She was not posed elegantly by any means. She was laid out like a vertical plank, her head hanging off the back of the sofa, mouth parted and arms straight. Rick smiled at her unassuming sweetness. Lightly, he touched her cheek, "Chonne?"
Michonne moaned, changed her position and curled up on the couch, her locs hiding her face. He accepted the tragedy before him, covered her with a thin sheet and made his way woefully upstairs to his bed. He kicked off his boots, tossed his jeans and shirt in a corner and plummeted into his mattress still in shock and overwhelmed by the events of the day. It took him a while to go to sleep but finally he did.
"Officer Grimes."
His bed shook and he opened his eyes. Am I awake?
"Rick!"
The bed shook harder and he shot up with alarm. A shadow shaped like Michonne was standing over him kneeing his mattress.
"So you gonna leave me on the couch? Where's Judith?" she grilled him.
He stretched and struggled to adjust his eyes. The moonlight was shining through the window's horizontal blinds. "She's with Daryl."
"Where's Carl? Stayed with his friends?"
"Yeah." He brought himself to the side of the bed and placed his feet on the floor.
"So the kids aren't here and I'm sleeping on the couch?" He could tell from her tone that she was wide awake and making an effort to be upset with him to deflect the fact that she'd fallen asleep.
He lightly placed his palm on her inner thigh and stroked her skin. He squeezed her without much discretion and pulled her squarely between his knees. "Do you not remember that you pinky swore you would not go to sleep, woman?" He asked with authority.
"I…" Michonne started.
Rick interjected, "A pinky swear!" now fervently squeezing both thighs with opposite hands and criss-crossed arms. He grasped her about the hips and pulled her forward to him slightly. She placed both hands on his shoulders to maintain her balance and smiled in the dark. She obeyed his wordless command, putting both knees on either side of him on the bed, she straddled him but did not rest herself in his lap.
"A fuckin' pinky swear?" she cocked her head and grinned down at him. "I made that vow under duress and I was never read my rights." She said as her fingers tenderly traced his collar bone and biceps. He drew her down on top of himself, bringing the prize he had been chasing all day- no, for months and months- closer to where it should have been.
"You have the right…" he paused and nuzzled her neck, "to remain right here." He wrapped one arm tight around her body and hooked her under the chin, kissing her lips, sure that this time, the waves rolling over him would reach their intended shores. He was ready to drink her like sands drink the rising tide and he had decided to drink her down completely. "You have the right remain topless." He lifted her tank top into the air for the second time that day. Her breasts were barely discernible in the dark, but he remembered everything about them. Now his desire was to feel them and taste them. So he did.
Michonne inhaled sharply when his teeth lovingly came down on one nipple and his hand passionately clutched her other breast. She squealed when he flipped her onto her back and stood over her, unbuttoning her cut-off shorts and slipping them from under and off her, along with her panties in one sweeping motion. He threw it all on the floor. Michonne was speechless as she looked up at him. He was removing the little he wore and her legs quivered as she saw all he would soon give her and she was more than pleased.
He climbed back onto the bed on top of her. "But I never gave you the right to drive me fuckin' crazy, but here we are."
"Tit for tat, Rick." She said breathlessly into the air of the room as he kissed her neck violently. "We'll be two crazy muthafuckas . I'm cool with that."
"That's how it was always gonna go." He agreed and slipped his hand between her legs and found the little knot of nerves inside her folds. She threw her head back in pleasure and brought her hand down to show him how she liked it, but Rick was handling the situation like the boss he was. There was no instruction needed. Instead she just grabbed his wrist and felt him work on her. Her other hand was grappling his back as if he were trying to escape. She tried to will herself to let go of him but she was overdosing on this intimacy. Rick was leading her now, mind, body and soul. He was leading her like he was born to lead. Michonne felt that letting go would have her falling into the same chasm she already saw herself laying at the bottom of. What sense did it make to fight? Thank god the kids are gone, she thought to herself as it became increasingly harder for her to be quiet. She closed her eyes and began making brazen sounds that immediately became his new favorites.
"You know I'm not gonna go easy on you, right?" he spoke into her bellybutton as he moved down her body to that mouthwatering blessing below.
"Oh god!" she cried out and tensed.
"He's not gonna help you now." He licked from her bottom to top and audibly approved of the taste. "He's busy answering my prayers right now." He buried his face in the musk created from the warmness of the day. He was happy to experience her organic state. She was overcome and realized that she hadn't felt a sensation similar to this since before the world went to hell and now she was in a particular room of heaven that, in truth, she had never entered with anyone- ever. She wormed and wriggled on the end of his tongue. Her breathing quickened and became uneven as she held her breath for moments at a time. And then he emerged from the intersection of her thighs, wiping his mouth and biting his lower lip.
"You're so close. I can't tell."
"Don't stop, Rick. Please." Michonne mewled. She could feel tears traveling to her ears as she laid there at his mercy.
"Wouldn't that be too easy?" Rick whispered in her ear. "I told you that's not how we're doing this." He kissed her long and deep and wrapped one hand around her neck . "See how good you taste. Holy shit, Chonne. You're a narcotic."
She giggled and let out a whine as she pulled him firm against her body. He teased in the lowest of tones, "Rookie mistake, letting the sheriff catch you holding. I take that seriously. You ready for your punishment?"
She nodded and struggled to speak but managed, "Yes." Her eyes locked right on his.
"Then tell me what you want." He pulled her hair back gently.
Michonne wasn't used to this much dialogue during sex. She couldn't believe it, but it made her shy. It made her sopping wet too, but she found herself embarrassed to answer. Rick stopped and lifted himself up on his palms, his arms straight and his rigid peacemaker set against her clit. He moved his hips side to side bedeviling that clamoring little button.
"Say it… and ask nice… come on, ask nice." He kept repeating. He could feel Michonne battling her pride but he wanted to disintegrate any part of her that wasn't part of him. The same pride or shame or whatever it was that kept her from coming to him before now- it had to go. "If you ask me I'll say yes and we're going to wake up…" he growled, "reformed in the morning. No more 'me and you'. Us. We. If you ask me I'll say yes."
She burst open and grabbed his face with both hands, "Please. I don't care what it is. I just want you… to be loved… by you tonight. Whatever that looks like." She exhaled, "Do you."
That was it. She was done and so was he.
"It looks like this." Rick replied. She closed her eyes to feel it better as he set out to define for Michonne what being loved by him entailed. He ravaged her and consumed her completely. He entered her like a meteor enters the atmosphere, burning, beautiful and out of control. His love was not syrupy or mild. His love was savage. And with each pounding thrust Michonne was learning: His love aimed to lay waste. And she reveled in the total destructive power of it.
"I love you so much. It's not…" She groped for what word to say next. It's not right? How could it be wrong? Who was coming between them? Who was being hurt? "It's not…" Fair? The world had to drown in chaos for her to be here in his arms. Was there another path that could have brought them here? "Rick, it's not..."
"It's not enough." He broke his rhythm, granting her the words and they were right. There wasn't enough sunlight in the day to make his eyes squint at the horizon the way she loved, melting her. Could there ever be a night long enough for them to make all the love they felt? Where was the space on the planet that they could go to unload all the cares they carried? He was slick with sweat now and breathless, "But I'm satisfied if you love me the way I love you."
Thanksgiving fell from her lips in a litany of yeses. She sent that prayer up to the man hovering above her. She was close to salvation and it hadn't taken her long to get there. She surmised her emotions and the build-up of the day were sending her over the edge in a hurry. Without warning, she wailed as she felt herself detonate.
"Oh, Rick!" She clenched, "Oh my god!" She literally screamed. She was bombarded with anxiousness for more of him, sending her sobbing into his shoulder.
Rick felt her walls tighten around his weighty length, pulling him into her pulsating center as he regressed to propel an unintentionally final and feral stroke. Then, wrenching what seemed like every muscle in his body, he released an overflow of warm, thick elixir deep inside her. He groaned with the force of his climax. They both just laid there, still and panting, trying to regain their senses. She was planting kiss after kiss from his eyes to his collar. It was such a peculiar urge- but she couldn't help herself.
As he rolled over to lie at her side, Michonne felt a twinge soreness that was somehow precious to her. Turning toward him, she cupped her hands between her anointed thighs as if to trap the feeling there. Normally, after sex she wanted to clean up as quick as she could, but this creamy wetness was the proof that what she had just experienced was real and she wanted to keep that feeling as long as possible. Rick kissed the crown of her head, still short of breath, and swept the perspiration from his brow down his face.
"Chonne. I think I fucked up." He lamented.
Michonne snuggled up close in his embrace and disagreed with a saucy tone. "Trust me, Rick. There is no fuck up anywhere in you."
He laughed at her priceless way with words, "I can see the rest of my life- I'm pussy whipped so bad…"
They both laughed together, face to face, legs intertwined. Michonne assured him, "I would never use this pussy to whip you," bringing a hand up to play in his hair. "I was just an innocent bystander. You whipped yourself."
He punished her for her smart talk with tickles to her ribs. She squirmed and screamed hysterically for him to stop. When he stopped, Michonne could see he was brandishing the purest smile.
"Well, you fucked up then. I'm gonna want you all the time now and you're not gonna be able to keep up with the demand. Poor you." He said laying kisses on her lips and filling his hands with her shape, "What are you gonna do?"
"What I do best, Officer Grimes. Make you wait."