Alright, so I'm trying to edit this chapter with a kitten asleep in one arm...and he's getting heavier; I need to work on building up my arm muscles.

As for your responses in the last chapter I don't think there was a single request for me not to include smut...you filthy lot! You're my kind of people xx

Chapter 4

Molly tried to sleep...she really did but the reality was that she couldn't. She knew she was in trouble the moment she climbed into bed and closed her eyes. The only thing her mind seemed to focus in on was Sherlock. Sherlock climbing out of the pool with water dripping down his spine; Sherlock walking into the kitchen with a pair of low slung jeans and an open white shirt; Sherlock looking at her so intently as he listened to her speaking, his eyes a mixture of blue and green in the fading light. And finally his face moving closer to hers as he leant in to kiss her on the cheek.

She could feel an ache between her legs and the more she tried to reason with herself and ignore it the worse it got. She knew that Sherlock was lying in a bed right next door, she'd heard him come up as she'd changed into her nightshirt...maybe he's touching himself like I want to touch myself...

She groaned at the thought and then slapped her hand over her mouth. God, he might hear her...what would he think?

She tried squeezing her legs together but it just made everything feel more sensitive and in the end she told herself it would be better to ease the frustration now and at least try to be quiet than potentially have some noisy, erotic dream.

She still felt guilty though as her hand moved between her thighs and started to rub against her clit. In her imagination it was Sherlock's hand or even better Sherlock's mouth creating the sensations she was feeling. She let two fingers slide inside herself and bit her lip to suppress the moan that she wanted to let out. She was so horny and she at least knew it wouldn't take her long.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock had sat downstairs after Molly had left and he couldn't get thoughts of her out of his mind. He could still remember the moment he'd come downstairs earlier and seen her and John sitting out on the terrace holding hands. The sight had hit him like a blow to his stomach and it didn't matter how much his head told him it didn't matter his body was telling him differently.

He'd thought earlier that she was still attracted to him...the way she'd watched him round the pool... but after seeing her and John he hadn't known what to think. He wasn't even sure whether he should even be tying himself up in knots about this but he was. He needed to know for certain how she felt about him and John...he didn't want to contemplate why, he just needed to know. And so he'd purposefully walked out with his shirt unbuttoned to see if she reacted...and she had, but was that just physical attraction...John could offer her a home, a family, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to offer anything.

In the end he'd thrown the rest of his wine down the drain in the sink and he'd made his way up to bed. He was probably just drunk...or tired...or both. He should put Molly Hooper back in that box in his head...it was just safer that way.

Fate was conspiring against him though because he was just settling down in his bed when he heard it. A long, low moan from Molly's room which immediately had all his senses on high alert.

He knew she wasn't in pain, that would have sounded different...he knew that sound. This was much more like...

His eyes snapped open in the dark as he realised what it was like. What he couldn't seem to quite cope with though was the fact that Molly, who was lying less than twenty feet from him, separated only by a wall, was masturbating. But that sound...he'd heard it before in his teens and early twenties when the girls he'd fucked had come...he'd also heard it every time Irene had texted him asking him to dinner. He'd just never expected to hear it from Molly.

He knew he should get up, that he should move around or maybe go downstairs for a glass of water. Instead he closed his eyes in the darkness and listened carefully...there it was again, faint but recognisable and it made his cock throb. Within seconds he was hard and aching to be touched; he normally masturbated at least twice a month to rid himself of his bodily urges but he suddenly realised it had been weeks and now he had a problem.

He rolled over and stifled a huff. He should just think about something else...to go into his mind palace. But when he closed his eyes he just found himself listening intently for any noise from Molly's room and his traitorous brain was filling in the blanks on what she might be doing.

What he actually needed was a cold shower but he'd already showered that evening and he really couldn't be bothered getting up now that he was settled in bed...but every second that passed he felt as though he was sinking deeper...he was getting harder and more aroused and he just wanted some release.

In the end he rolled back onto his back. He knew what he was doing was wrong but he tried not to think about it as he hooked his pyjamas around his balls and took hold of his erection. His mind was just consumed with images of Molly and what she might be doing...or even better what he could be doing to her.

In his mind's eye she was spreading her legs for him, showing him her quim...all pink and glistening with juices. He'd always enjoyed going down on a woman...making her come with his tongue thrusting deep inside her or circling her clit.

He imagined it now. Letting his hands slide up her thighs, hearing her sighs as he positioned himself then feeling her hands gripping his hair as he licked her clit...tasting her. He wished in that moment that he knew what Molly Hooper tasted of...she'd be good, he just knew she would...like honey and nectar.

His hand was gripping tighter now, stroking himself faster and he could no longer hear Molly over the sound of his own breathing but he didn't care. All he wanted now was to chase his own completion.

He turned Molly over in his dream and made her lift her hips so he could enter her from behind, hearing her groan as he filled her and it made him lose control.

At the last minute he grabbed at some tissues from the box on his bedside cabinet and he caught his come as it streamed from his body.

It was only when he sat up and threw the tissues towards a nearby bin in the corner of the room that the full consequences of what he had done washed over him.

He had spent the last few months trying not to think of Molly, and if he did think of her trying not to think about how she made him feel but now look at him. Less than 24 hours into this holiday and not only was he thinking about her constantly he was wanking off over her. He was in trouble and he knew it. Deep trouble.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly woke up the next morning feeling more refreshed than she had in months. She stretched out in the bed relishing the feel of the cotton sheets on her body as she listened to the sound of the seagulls calling outside. The sound took her right back to seaside holidays in her childhood with her parents. They used to go to Blackpool or Weymouth or right here in Devon; camping when they were short on money or living it up in a bed and breakfast. This place was so much more luxurious though.

She climbed out of the bed and padded over to the windows so she could open the curtains and the balcony door and she smiled when she saw just what a glorious, sunny day it was. Seeing the sea had her itching to go down to the beach and she imagined how much fun she could have with Rosie teaching her how to paddle and build sand castles.

Within ten minutes she had finished in the bathroom and she wrapped up in a thin cotton dressing gown before making her way downstairs to see who else might be up. Unsurprisingly she could hear Rosie shrieking and laughing in the kitchen and John's low voice as he spoke to his daughter. She suddenly felt a bit guilty about how long he might have been up already; Rosie wasn't one for lying in...maybe she should have offered to be on morning duty to give him a break.

'Morning Molly. Good to see someone else is up. I take it there was no sign of Sherlock?'

'No, is he not an early riser?'

John snorted. 'No chance. Maybe I'll take him a coffee up or we'll never see him. Are you alright looking after Rosie for a minute? She seems to think it's amusing to throw her weetabix on the floor rather than eating it.'

'Yes of course. Give me the spoon, maybe I can persuade her.'

She sat down in the chair John had just vacated and turned to the little girl who was bright eyed and still giggling.

'Now young lady what kind of manners are these. I bet you don't even know how to get the food in your mouth do you?' She smiled to herself as Rosie reached for the spoon determined to prove Molly wrong and then laughed at John's exasperation at her managing his daughter so well.

When John returned they discussed their plans for the day before deciding on the beach. Rosie had never been to the seaside before and John was keen to take her. Molly decided on a quick swim before her shower and after eating a bowl of cereal she ran upstairs to change into her costume only to run into a disheveled Sherlock coming out of the bathroom, still yawning and ruffling his hair. Her eyes were caught by his t shirt riding up and a sliver of his abdomen showing.

'Morning Molly, what unearthly hour is this then? It feels like the middle of the night.'

She giggled as his grumpiness. 'It's almost 9.30 and I'm off for a swim. It's a beautiful day.'

He just grunted rather than replied and made his way back to his bedroom.

Still grinning Molly quickly got herself changed and grabbed a towel and then made her way down to the pool. John joined her with Rosie a few minutes later and by the time Sherlock finally arrived the two of them had Rosie in the water between them with a body float on. She was a natural at swimming under the water like most babies but she had no concept of staying within her depth and John had to keep a close eye on her.

Molly saw Sherlock frowning as he watched them and she wondered what was going through his mind. Maybe domesticity and children were just too much for him and she felt her heart sink a little. She knew he loved Rosie in his own way but she couldn't help the pictures in her head of her and Sherlock together with children of their own. In that moment her fantasy had never seemed more unrealistic.

Molly had it wrong though. When Sherlock had come down to see Molly, John and Rosie in the pool together, laughing and having fun he had felt once again that stab of an emotion that he refused to name. It was the same feeling that had made him join them on the holiday and the feeling he'd had at the sight of them holding hands; the feeling of just not wanting John and Molly to get too close. His physical reaction to Molly the night before and his subsequent action reared back into his mind and he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. He felt as though he was spiralling out of control and it scared him. He was so far out of his comfort zone and he had no idea how to return to the person he used to be or even if he wanted to. Eurus had changed everything and he was still coming to terms with the consequences...maybe Molly was one of those consequences.

Rosie had caught sight of him by now and she held her arms up to him looking past her dad who had hold of her waist. 'Locklock...look I swim'.

Sherlock couldn't help but laugh as she flung herself backwards into the water before twisting and kicking her legs, catching John in the stomach and making him yell out.

He threw his towel onto one of the loungers and then put his hand on the side of the pool before jumping in. He wasn't so distracted by the water temperature that he didn't notice Molly's eyes dilate as she watched him and he felt a swell of pride in his chest that she still found him physically desirable. She never looked at John that way but just as he'd contemplated the night before people didn't always get together out of physical desire.

He pushed off from the side and caught up with Rosie pulling her up and out of the water above his head laughing as she squealed with delight, water dripping down onto him. He had never expected to love John's daughter they way he did. Before her children hadn't really been interesting until they were older and more inquisitive but from the moment she was born he had just felt an overwhelming sense of love and protectiveness and this had only increased since Mary...but no...he pushed that thought away, as he always did. Sometimes it was easier to block his thoughts than to succumb to them.

So what did you think of the smut that wasn't smut, well not mutual smut...I hope you enjoyed it and it ticked the box without moving the story on too fast. Those that have read my previous fics know that I'm all about the slow burn. I love the build up and anticipation and I hope you do too.