Maura moved still closer to the object of her desire. Jane resisted the urge to move back as her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Maura drew closer and closer, her eyes fluttering as Jane's grew wider.
Holy fuck. Is this really happening?
And it was. There was no denying the rapt attention that the doctor was impressing onto her. She felt the fire at her back, the fire in her breast. She knew that Maura had wanted her, that's why she had taken her in the kitchen a few nights ago but this was different. This was Maura with inescapable desire, lust even coursing through her entire being, on vulnerable display in front of Jane. As her lips drew nearer, Jane melted. Yes, she fucking melted.
Maura rested her forehead on Jane's, looking deep into those brown pools of infinity and parted her lips to breathe words that Jane so longed to hear. Jane steeled herself. Maura took a shallow breath. Jane's stomach rumbled loudly, breaking the spell that had held them.
"Jane," Maura breathed, closing her eyes and taking a breath of the air that was wholly Jane. Her center fluttered again and she fought to control herself. "Where are my manners? You are hungry, yes?" Her eyes bore into Jane's.
"Yes," Jane squeaked out. Her stomach had ruined the moment, but she couldn't lie about her physical needs. She was hungry, hadn't eaten in almost ten hours. And that was a jelly donut and a handful of chocolate almonds that she pilfered from Maura's desk while the good doctor was in the restroom. Oh, wait. She did have that pizza an hour ago, but seeing that the situation she was in, she had burned every single calorie of that pie a million times over. Her desire had dampened her hunger, but the mere mention of food sent her metabolism into overdrive.
"Then," Maura breathed against her neck. Jane wondered distractedly when her best friend had arrived at her neck. "Let me feed you, detective. It would be my honor."
A flutter in her brain and Jane was certain that she had a stroke. But upon opening her eyes, she knew that she hadn't. There was the fireplace, the rug she was sprawled on, and Maura's figure retreating to the kitchen. Dishes softly clanked, refrigerator doors opened and closed. Liquid poured into glasses. And then Maura was back with a large platter, a bottle of wine and two glasses. She settled in front of Jane and handed her a damask cloth napkin.
Jane raised her eyebrows, "Damask, Dr. Isles?" She chuckled, "Who are you? Hannibal Lecter?" Maura just smiled and sat in front of her, offering her a short glass of Joel Gott Pinot Noir.
"Jane," That word again floating off her tongue and over to the detective, who sat rapt against her own want. Maura offered her the platter of cheeses, choucroute, and bits of toasted bread. Jane sampled a slice of sausage.
Her eyes widened as her palate took on everything on her tongue. "My god, where did you get this?" Jane took a few more slices and piled them on the bread, sandwiched some foreign cheese and dipped into a dark mustard. She popped the mass into her mouth and delighted in the flavors.
"That?" Maura's voice tilted into innocence. "Oh, I cured those meats last year, Jane."
"Last year?" Jane asked, "What for?"
Maura took a delicate bite of manchego "For you, Jane." Her eyes bored again into Jane's. She let the cheese dissolve on her tongue and chased the saltiness with the strong bite of the wine. "When I met you, I began to cure sausages and prosciuttos. For one day when you came to my house hungry."
The stroke that threatened Jane mere minutes ago pounded in her ears. Maura noticed this.
"Jane," She said, sliding a slice of cured sausage into her plump mouth, "Eat, my love. There is plenty of time for that later."
