Epiphany
by: incoherenThought
!Warning!: This chapter is M rated. Don't read if you are not mature.
Note: I've decided I don't like the 5th chapter I have written for this story. Therefor, it will not be posted. I may, or may not, write a new one. I just don't know yet. Sorry! For now, this story is complete... maybe forever.
NoteAgain: It has come to my attention that the writing style I've used for this story is... interesting. You know who you are? ;) I just wanted you to all know that it is all on purpose. You know, the whole short sentences thing. On purpose. All of it. I like it. If you don't, then go away. No! I'm joking! Come back!
Chapter 4: Wednesday
Lilly hated Wednesdays. They sat in the middle of the week. Taunting. Mocking. Reminding her that it wasn't quite Thursday. And that Friday was even further away. She hated Wednesdays. She hated this Wednesday. And she hated this week.
She glanced at the clock. 9:30 AM. The clock was taunting her too. She was certain of it. She felt like she had been at work for hours already. It had only been thirty minutes. She sighed. She hated Wednesday mornings.
A file landed hard on the desk facing hers. She jumped. She looked up. And found her partner's eyes glaring back at her. She looked down. Maybe she could take a sick day. She could be sick. Wednesdays often made her sick.
"Morning," he said. Not pleasantly. She swallowed. She tried to pretend she was concentrating on the file in front of her. She didn't know what the file was.
"Good morning, Scotty," she tried to sound distracted. She didn't think it had worked. His name sounded funny on her lips. This was odd. She'd said it at least a million times since meeting him.
"Interesting case?" he asked. That's when she realized. He had walked up behind her. His breath was hot at her ear. A shiver ran through her. She swallowed hard.
"Sure," she answered. What the hell was this file about?
"Because it's closed." She was certain his breath was now closer to her ear. Maybe she was imagining it. "We closed it last week," his voice was a whisper. Lilly stood up.
"I know," she lied. "I was about to..." She turned around. He was right there. Not an inch from her. She moved to the left. He followed. She moved to the right. So did he. She sighed. She stood still.
"It's just a copy," he informed. "Don't belong with the official files. Needs to be shredded." Lilly was staring at his chest. She didn't want to meet his eyes. She took a step back. He took a step forward.
"I know," she lied again. Her breath seemed to be harder to come by. "I was bringing it there." She chanced a look in his eyes. She regretted it. She looked away. The accusations staring back at her were too much.
"Where?" he asked.
"What?" she asked. He gestured to something behind her. She looked over. Sitting beside her desk was a shredder. She closed her eyes, blocking out the offending object. She hated Wednesdays.
She had gone down to the cold case room. To hide. And to go over their latest case. A young woman's death from five years ago. Mostly. She had gone down to the cold case room. To hide. Because she hated today. And today seemed like a good day to hide.
She should have known better. She was seated on the floor. A scattering of papers in front of her. Around her. A crunching sound. A foot. She looked up. Scotty. Staring down at her. She swallowed. She smiled. Did he know? She was hiding? Of course he knew.
"Hi, Scotty," she said sweetly. She stood up. Because he was too tall. She should have stayed seated. He advanced on her. She backed up. Her back hit a wall. Had she been that close to the wall? She should have stayed seated.
"Hey, Lil," he said. His lips were on hers. Devouring her. Marking her. Taming her. Oh, god. Her hands were in his hair. She couldn't help it. He was a drug. He pulled away. She almost whimpered.
"You said you needed space," he said hoarsely. His lips were inches from hers. "Is this enough space?"
She swallowed. She could feel his breath on her lips. She thought of that night. The one they had spent together. Of the next morning. She'd turned him away. That had been over a month ago. She'd simply been scared. Scared of him. Of what letting him in meant.
I love you. How many men had she shared those words with? He was losing his patience. She'd noticed this about a week ago. She was scared. He had a power no other man had ever held over her. A simple touch. A kiss. And she would consent to anything.
"Scotty..." His lips were back on hers. He pressed her into the wall. Hard. His hands lifted her up. Her legs instinctively wrapped around him. His body was holding her there. She felt his hardness at the center of her very being. Oh, god. They couldn't do this. Not here.
His lips were on her neck. Trailing kisses down to her collar bone. He pushed his hardness into her. Relented a little. Then pushed back in. She had to stop this. He had to stop. They were in the basement of Philly PD! Why the hell couldn't she stop this? A simple touch. A kiss.
His hand moved to the front of her shirt. He grabbed her breast. Gently pinched at a nipple. She moaned his name. And he stopped. He backed up. She fell to the ground. To unsteady legs. He looked at her. A wicked grin on his face. She could hardly breath.
"Let me know, Lil. When you've had enough space." He turned around. He left. She hated Wednesdays.
Had she had enough space? Or was it the drug she craved? She wasn't sure. But she showed up at his door that night. He answered it. Not at all surprised to see her. He stepped aside. She walked inside. And she stood. Awkwardly. In the entry hall that led to his home.
She'd never been here before. From this vantage point, it didn't look like a bachelor pad. He had decorated with taste. Or had someone else done the decorating? She could see a few paintings. They were nice paintings. The place was clean. No scattered clothes. No dirty dishes.
Had he been expecting her? Had he known she'd show up? She felt his arms wrap around her waist. She leaned into him. His lips were on her neck. She closed her eyes. Wednesday nights. Maybe they weren't so bad. Maybe she could handle a Wednesday night.
"The bedroom," he whispered into her neck, "is to the left." She opened her eyes. She glanced in that direction. Sure enough. Through a door. Stood a bed. "The living room is ahead of us. Take your pick."
The bedroom. She knew what would happen there. No doubting that. The living room. She knew what had started there. In her own house. A month ago. His kisses were trailing along her collar bone. Making it hard. Impossible. To decide.
His hands, at her hips, pulled her to him. She felt his want pressing into her backside. His hands roamed up her arms. Down her chest. Over her stomach. Her breathing was coming harder. The bedroom is to the left. She swallowed hard. He was still seducing her.
"How about the kitchen?" she suddenly asked. "I'm kind of hungry."
She turned in his arms. She looked in his eyes. A smile crept over his lips. He was looking at her adoringly. Lovingly. She didn't believe a man had ever looked at her that way before. He moved aside a stray lock of her hair. It fell back down. He didn't notice.
"I think I can take care of that," he said. And his lips were on hers. She couldn't breath. His hands were everywhere. He suddenly had her pinned to the wall. She wasn't sure how that had happened. Her hands found his hair. His back. His chest.
She pulled off his shirt. He was working on the buttons of hers. He pushed off her jacket and blouse at the same time. Then his lips found the soft fabric covering her breast. She gasped. She reached for his buckle. Her hands were shaky. He stepped back. Took her hand in his.
He led her to the bedroom. The decision had been made. Without words. Her head fell back onto the pillows. He looked down at her. Adoringly. Lovingly. And she knew. He really did love her. She ran a finger down the side of his face. He smiled at her.
He kissed her. Gently. Carefully. Something had just changed. There was more love. Less lust. More caution. Less force. He trailed his lips down her chin. Down her neck. To her breasts. He removed her bra without effort. She arched her back into him as he sucked in a nipple.
His hands trailed lower. Playing at the insides of her still clothed thighs. She closed her eyes. Wishing her clothing would all disappear. She reached for him. But he was moving lover. His lips trailed down her stomach. He placed a kiss above her belt buckle.
"Scotty?" He looked up at her. "This isn't just about the sex, is it?" He smiled. He shook his head. Moved back up her body and kissed her hard. She moaned into his lips. With one hand he undid her belt. Then went to work on button and zipper.
"Not a chance," he breathed. "If this were just about the sex. It wouldn't be this good." She smiled, knowing he was right. He was back down her body in seconds. Pulling her slacks down. Over her hips. Off her legs. They ended up somewhere. She didn't know where.
Then his lips were on the thin fabric of her underwear. A few kisses and they, too, were gone. She closed her eyes. She knew what was coming. And then his head was between her legs once more. His tongue darted out. Licking at her. Causing shivers racing up her body.
She called out his name. She clutched at the blanket beneath her. And he was sucking her, extremely sensitive, bud into his mouth. She arched her back. Not about the sex. This was so much more. This was love. It was lust. But it was love. Nothing should feel this good.
Two fingers entered her. Then a third. He moved them inside her. In and out. As he licked at her. Sucked at her. Oh, god. She felt like her entire body would soon explode. How could any one person handle this much pleasure?
She wanted him. Needed him. Inside her. She was moaning. Calling out his name. His fingers. His mouth. Worked more intently. Her breathing came in gasps. She arched her back. Bucked her hips. He sucked in her bud once again. She exploded. Calling out his name.
He rested his head on her stomach. Her breathing calmed. Her heartbeat steadied. She was sure that was one of the most intense orgasms she had ever experienced. She wondered, why had they waited so long to do this? She wanted to do it all over again. She wanted him.
She ran a hand through his hair. He smiled up at her. His eyes were filled with lust. He needed her. She needed him.
"Come here," she whispered. He moved up to her. He kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips. She pushed him back onto the bed. She undid his belt. The button on his jeans. His zipper was lowered. And his jeans were gone. On the floor somewhere. Forgotten.
All that remained were his boxers. She got rid of them. He moaned softly at the fresh air that ran across him. Or maybe it was her hand moving up his length. She leaned down and kissed his tip. She took it into her mouth. He was large. Bigger than average. He was perfect.
"Lilly," it was a need. She looked up at him with her eyes. Her lips still around him. Moving down. Sucking in. "I need you. Please." His words seemed difficult on his lips. She understood. What he'd just done to her. It had done something to him.
She ran her tongue along his length as she lifted her mouth off him. He moaned at the loss. But he needed something else right now. He needed her. She straddled his hips. His eyes were pleading. Begging. Lust and love. It was all there.
She settled down onto his length. Taking him in. Slowly. His eyes watched hers. His head settled deeper into the pillows behind him. He put his hands on her hips. And he was inside her. All of him. Filling her perfectly. Stretching her inner walls to new heights of pleasure.
He ran a hand down the back of her head. To her neck. He pulled her down to him. He kissed her deeply. She lifted her body up. They both moaned into the kiss. She pushed back down. The kiss ended. She sat back up. And began to move.
For longer than either of them believed it would last. They stayed like that. She'd move down. He'd move up. They matched each other perfectly. Their timing always right. Till he couldn't take it anymore. He flipped them over. Never separating from her.
He pounded inside of her. Hard. Rough. She was going to bruise. She didn't care. She called out his name. Her body shook. And she met ecstasy. Again. He pushed in and out. One more time. He buried his face in her shoulder. He cried out his own release. Spilling his seed into her.
He fell to her side. Laying on his stomach. An arm still draped over her. Breathing hard. She looked over at him. He was looking at her. His eyes were filled with the same satisfaction she felt. Why had she waited a month? Why had she pushed him away?
He ran a hand down her cheek. Over her arm. She shivered. He smiled. He loved her. She loved him. Love had never felt so good.
"Thinking about running yet?" he asked. Part humor. Part serious.
"Get back to me in the morning," she answered. Not serious.
"That's not funny." He was kissing her lips.
"Sorry," she whispered beneath the kiss. He moved his lips to her neck. Her collar bone. Her shoulder. His hand ran down her side. To her hip. Then back up. She laughed. "You're insatiable."
She felt him smile. "I know," he said and she decided that Wednesdays weren't so bad after all.
(okay, it's your turn to write... push that review button)