A/N – I'm just gonna quit apologizing for the delay, because surely the rest of you are as busy as I am. This is a long one! Enjoy!
Chapter 4
I knew it was going to happen.
I was in my bedroom, alone. So I knew that the nightmares were a sure thing. Maura was at her place because I had to stay late at work and she finished way earlier than me. And she needed to be ready early the next morning for a presentation she was giving at Boston University on encephalitis or something like that found during autopsy. So we agreed before she went home for the night that she should stay at her place and I would go back to my own since it was closer to the station and I was sure to be exhausted.
She was worried about me, of course. She asked if I would be okay by myself, and while she didn't say it, she didn't have to, she was really asking if I was okay sleeping alone.
And you know me, always the tough one. And stubborn. I told her I would be fine. I told her not to worry.
But she's not an idiot. Well, she's a genius, actually, but that's beside the point. So she pulled me aside in the hallway and looked right into my eyes. I melted, as usual, because she's incredible and she does that shit to me every day. She said to me, "Jane."
And I said, "Yes, Maura?" with only a little sarcasm, I promise. And she said, "It really isn't a big deal for me to get the things I'll need for tomorrow from my place and then come over to yours for the night."
I rolled my eyes and reached for her hands. "Maura," I reassured her. And myself. "It's one night. I'm a big girl and I will be just fine. I'm a detective for crying out loud. I can defend myself."
She didn't look convinced.
"There are only so many things a gun can protect you from, Jane."
. . . . . . . .
And she had been right about that. My gun didn't do me any good when I woke up sweating, sure as fuck that Charles Hoyt was standing over me as I slept, whispering to me as he caressed my cheek with his scalpel. The nightmares had come. Just like I knew they would. And I had tried to stay up as long as possible, tried to make sure that I was exhausted so that maybe I wouldn't dream at all. But it didn't work.
It was so vivid. I could still smell him in the air as I sat up and grabbed for my gun. I could feel him. My scars ached as I clenched and unclenched my hands, trying to make the tingling feeling in them go away. My eyes darted around the room, making sure it was just a dream, that he wasn't magically in two places at once. He couldn't be. He was safely locked up in prison. No way to escape.
I had to reassure myself over and over that I was alone in my bedroom, that the voices were only in my head and that my dream wasn't real. My heart was beating wildly against my ribcage, and the adrenaline in my system was still pumping, keeping my senses on high alert. That's when I noticed the eerie glow coming from outside. Of course there would be a fucking eerie glow. This was like a damned horror film playing out right here in my bedroom.
I got out of bed and walked slowly to the window. My tank top was stuck to my back with sweat, and reached behind me with my free hand to air it out a bit. Glancing out the window as I stood partially to the side, just in case, I could see a bright glow coming from down on the street. I squinted in the darkness and could barely make out what it was.
And fuck me sideways.
It was a flare.
Someone had lit a flare, just like the one I used to burn off half of Hoyt's face, and left it in the middle of the street, with no one around. Right outside my apartment.
By that time, I was more pissed off than scared, so I pulled on some pajama bottoms and went downstairs with my gun. Whoever had left the flare might still be down there and I was going to check it out. I tucked my keys in the elastic of my waistband and made my way down the stairs to the street. It looked like it had rained sometime during the night and my bare feet were cold against the pavement as I crept towards the brightly burning flare.
Fuck you Hoyt. Fuck you for messing with my head. Why the hell was there a flare out here? Can this be a coincidence? A million other questions flew through my head as I stared, transfixed, at the flare.
Behind me, something moved in the bushes and I whipped around with my gun out, ready to shoot at Hoyt or whoever the hell it was. Rational or not, and regardless of whether or not I wanted to admit it, I was terrified. But it was only a cat, and I lowered my gun. I squatted down and used my shirt to pick up the flare so that I wouldn't leave any prints on it. I rubbed the burning wick out on the wet street and it went out almost immediately.
The hairs on the back of my neck and on my forearms were standing straight up. The temperature couldn't have been lower than 65 and I knew it wasn't from the cold anyway. I could feel someone watching me.
I knew they were out there somewhere, watching my scared expression as I carried around their fucking extinguished flare. If I could just find them/him/her, I'd shoot the cowardly bastard right in the heart. But I couldn't see anything. It was probably 4 in the morning and no one was out. So I hurried back inside, looking behind me probably two or three times to make sure I wasn't followed.
I got that feeling just then, you know the one. Where you're a little kid and you have to turn out the light in your room but as soon as you flip the switch, everything goes dark. You know deep down there's not really anything under your bed, but that doesn't stop you from running like hell and leaping onto your bed like an Olympian, scared to death that something's gonna grab you. You're shaking for a good thirty seconds as you sit in your bed with the covers safely over your vulnerable feet. Yep, that was the feeling I was trying to fight as I walked back up to my apartment. It was hard not to just take off running from whatever imaginary baddie was lurking behind me. I took deep breaths and managed to resist, though. My heart rate finally slowed down when I got my door unlocked and took one last look behind me into the hall.
Back inside my apartment, I turned on all my lights and walked with my gun through every room, checking under every bed and in every closet for hidden visitors. Yeah, I knew I wasn't being rational, but damn it, I'd rather be alive and irrationally paranoid than dead with Hoyt's scalpels sticking out of me again.
I sat on my couch with a cup of hot coffee, trying to warm up on the inside, and waited for the morning. There was no way I was going back to sleep.
. . . . . . .
The next morning, I was at work, guzzling down more coffee and trying to keep my eyes open. I was filling out some paperwork, some DD5s that had been sitting around for forever, and I found myself wondering how Maura's presentation was going. My phone rang just then, and wouldn't you know it . . . someone got killed. I looked over at Frost who was mirroring my actions, and had just hung up his phone. He raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath. I guess he was used to my haggard appearance by now and hadn't said anything about it. He was a nice guy.
"Ready for another one?"
I finished off my coffee and stood up, throwing my jacket around my shoulders.
"Born ready, Frost."
We pulled up to the park and got out of the sedan. When I saw that punctual Maura already had her Mercedes parked by the curb in front of us, I looked quickly in the mirror and tried to pinch some color into my cheeks, and I patted unsuccessfully at the skin under my eyes, hoping to make the dark circles disappear. Maura would see them right away. I sighed and caught up with Frost, who shot me a raised-eyebrow, questioning look.
I ignored him, however, as we both gave our names to the officer holding the clipboard and ducked under the police tape and over to where Maura was bent over a park bench, examining the dead man seated there.
She looked impeccable, as usual, in her light blue dress and beige, three quarter sleeved blazer. If I wasn't so damned tired and wary to have her see me in the state I was in, I would've thought seriously about taking her into my arms right then and there and kissing her thoroughly. But that wouldn't have been appropriate even on a normal day.
"What do we have, Doc?" Frost said, as we approached. Maura looked up briefly, taking in the sight of the two detectives before glancing back down at her notes. "Male, late 20s, early 30s. His throat was slashed, severed the carotid and jugular, and it looks as if he's been placed here."
Indeed, the man had a newspaper in his hands, no blood at all on his body, and it was obvious that he had been killed somewhere else.
"His body temp is low. And this slash across his throat is odd."
"Odd?" I said incredulously. "Yeah the whole thing is odd! There's no blood anywhere and he's sitting here with a newspaper like it's no big deal."
Maura glanced over at me.
"The darkening of the naso-jugal fold indicates fatigue and vitamin deficiencies."
She was speaking over my head again, so I just nodded and stared at the dead guy.
But Maura was still looking at me, I could feel her eyes on me. So I looked back over at her and raised my eyebrows, silently saying What?
"I'm talking about you, Jane. You have dark circles under your eyes."
I groaned. That didn't take her long at all. Maybe I should invest in some eye cream or makeup or something.
"You didn't sleep last night, did you?" she asked, straightening up and facing me. I didn't answer her. Luckily for me, Frost walked up and held out a wallet.
I took it from him and opened it up. The ID said James Stearn, and that sounded familiar to me. Frost frowned and decided that it sounded familiar to him as well. He said he thought the guy might be a missing person, and with that he walked off to go run it.
When he left, Maura leaned in closer and spoke quietly. "You had a nightmare again." It wasn't a question.
"Yes, I dreamed I came to work in my underwear."
"Really? I have this reoccurring dream where I show up to my biochemistry final and I haven't studied at all . . . "
"Stop, it's terrifying. I can't take it."
I rolled my eyes at her, trying to deflect the conversation and the fact that she had so quickly discovered my dilemma. But here was Frost again to save the day.
He walked back up with his tablet, on which he was scrolling around and nodding his head. "Yeah, his wife was a missing person, her name was Emily. James and Emily Stearns..
"Yeah," I said, "I remember that. There was a history of violence and he was the number one suspect."
"Yeah, theory was he murdered her, hid the body and fled." Frost recited, mulling thoughtfully over his screen.
I said, "Looks like karma finally caught up with him."
It was just a fleeting comment. I wasn't looking for an explanation of the word. But guess who gave me one?
Yep. You guessed it.
Maura started talking about Sanskrit or something googly and then I tuned her out. I'm a good girlfriend.
I heard footsteps approaching behind me and I whipped around. It was Frankie, and the look on his face was not a promising one.
Well, shit. Another body? I wondered.
"What's up Frankie?" I asked him, worried about what the look on his face and his body language could be about. Weird how siblings can read each other like that. He didn't hesitate. He meant business.
"It's about Ma and Pop. Can we go somewhere and talk about it?" He was worrying his lip and glancing around like he didn't want people to hear.
I looked over at Maura, who had heard the conversation but was politely and dutifully glancing over the body one last time, making imaginary notes on her clipboard. She glanced up at me when she felt my eyes on her and nodded, silently giving me permission to leave. I figured we'd meet back up at the morgue so that I could be there for the autopsy. Patting Frost on the shoulder as I walked past him, I told him I'd meet him back at the station. He nodded and continued searching for information on the missing wife of our dead husband.
I relaxed a little bit as we sat down together at a booth. It was just a little Rizzoli family drama. What was new? The little diner was down the block from the police station. We weren't sitting for more than about 20 seconds when one of the waitresses came bustling up, notepad out, ready to take our order. She was a good-looking girl, maybe late 20s or so, and she was all grins as she asked what we'd like to drink. We both got coffee and as she finished writing it down, the lingering look she gave Frankie didn't pass me by. She left to grab our drinks and Frankie looked nervous.
"What's the matter?" I asked, worried more about him than I was about our parents. If something was seriously wrong, we wouldn't be sitting here talking and drinking coffee.
He paused dramatically before he began.
"I think Ma is saving up to leave Pop."
That wasn't what I was expecting to hear. But, come on! Really?
"Really, Frankie? Because she's selling that miracle joint juice?"
He leaned forward and nodded, trying to persuade me.
"And she got her hair highlighted."
"That doesn't mean anything. She's a grown woman and she has every right to lead her own life."
He raised an eyebrow at me, frustrated with me that I wasn't seeing things his way.
"Without Pop?"
I laughed, still not believing that things were as bad as he thought. The waitress brought our coffees and set them down, smiling at the both of us. She left again and I put my elbows up on the table, wrapping my hands around the warm mug.
"Yeah, I guess so. Look, Frankie, I know things have been sort of rocky between them lately, but they're adults. They'll work it out. And we're adults too now, so it's really not our job to worry about them."
He didn't look convinced. "But I am worried, Jane. I just have this feeling that . . . "
But I cut him off. "No, Frankie. It will be fine. They love each other."
Sighing, he slumped back against his seat. He looked defeated, and I understood. I didn't know what I'd do if they really got divorced. I shook myself. Come on now. We're adults, we can handle ourselves if something like that were to really happen.
But we were both frustrated, it seemed. I was frustrated with both the developing case and Frankie's suspicions about our parents. And poor Frankie. He would be really torn up if they did get a divorce or if they separated. I couldn't help but think of him as my little brother, as the little kid who looked up to me and followed me around everywhere, copying my every move. Annoying as it was back then, I looked back on it now sort of fondly and laugh about it. I frowned briefly at the fact that I hadn't gotten around to telling him about my relationship with Maura. I hadn't told anyone really, and only Frost had figured it out. It wasn't that I was ashamed or afraid. . . Well, I take that back. I was afraid, and I didn't have any idea how to go about coming out to my family. I was actually surprised my mother hadn't caught on yet. But then again, I had been so busy that I hadn't seen much of either of them in the past few weeks.
The googly-eyed waitress came back and gazed at Frankie.
"Can I get you two anything else?"
I sighed and smiled up at her. "Several things. A new job for starters. A million bucks?"
She laughed as she picked up our mugs one at a time and refilled them. "And how about you," she said to Frankie. "I bet you'd like a new car?"
They looked into each other's eyes for a moment before he answered. Then they started talking about cars and Detroit and plumbers and I zoned out. I had more pressing things on my mind than listening to these too shamelessly flirt in front of me.
She shrugged at something he said and he held his hand out. "I'm Frankie," he said as she extended her own and shook lightly. Her handshake was weak, I noticed. I didn't like that in a woman. "And this is my sister, Jane."
She glanced over at me briefly. "I'm Lola."
"It's nice to meet you, Lola." God, this staring was getting way out of hand. I rolled my eyes and was grateful for the buzzing of my cell phone on the table. It yanked Frankie from his staring contest with the waitress as he listened to my conversation.
It was Maura. "Hey, what's up?" I asked as the waitress slipped Frankie her number, trying to be sneaky. Like I don't see you. I'm a detective for crying out loud.
"Jane, Frost and I have some news."
"Some news? Okay," I paused, unsure of where she was going with this. "What kind of news?"
She hesitated, thinking about her words, choosing them carefully. "It's about James Stearn. Would you come down here and we can talk about it."
This didn't sound good. In fact, it sounded down right ominous. What was so bad that she couldn't just tell me over the phone? That I had to be there in person and see her face to face. My gut started clenching and unclenching then, and the coffee wasn't settling well. I didn't have a good feeling now. Shit.
"Okay, I'll be right there."
I pressed END on my phone and looked back up at Frankie, who was grinning to himself like an idiot. Jeez, it really didn't take much for guys to be distracted, did it? One second he was upset like a 10-year-old and the next he's smirking to himself about the digits he managed to get from some chick.
"I gotta go, Frankie. We'll talk more about this later, okay?"
He looked up at me, surprised I guess that I was still sitting there and nodded his head. He was in his own little world. Men. Ugh.
"Okay, see you later."
I hustled down the block and into the police station. The elevator took forever and I stood there impatiently, tapping my foot, staring anxiously at the little round lights that told you what floor the car was on. I guess I could've taken the stairs, but that was too much work. Besides, my stomach was all twisted in knots after Maura's phone call. That tone was not a good one and I wasn't looking forward to whatever was awaiting me downstairs.
Finally the bell dinged and the door slid open. I rode the elevator down and walked quickly past the morgue and into Maura's office, where Frost was standing a little behind Maura, his hand resting on the back of the chair. She was sitting at her desk, head down, and they were both looking over a spread of photographs and other assorted papers.
They looked up together as I entered, and Maura's eyes were wide with what looked like worry. Frost's expression was cool and collected, but I knew him well enough already. He always twitched his mouth a little to the right side when he was freaking out about something. My guess was that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. It was his tell, and although I hadn't told him about it, his poker face wasn't as good as he thought it was. He was doing it right as I entered, so I knew that whatever they were about to tell me wasn't good.
"Okay, what's the emergency?" I asked, trying to be calm.
Maura looked up at Frost, unsure of what to say, and he looked back at her with a slight inclination of his head, indicating to her that it was her job to tell me whatever it was. I guess he was right, since the two of us were seeing each other and everything. Maura didn't look as convinced, however. She had a point; after all, he was my partner and was in charge of watching my back and helping to keep me safe. She caved soon enough, though as I gave up on the two of them and walked over to her desk to see what all the fuss what about for myself.
She started talking as I laid my eyes on what was spread all over her desk.
"I was in the middle of autopsy when I noticed something strange about his heart. It was frozen solid, and part of his lung was partially frozen as well. It turns out our dead body from the park was frozen for an extended period of time. I'm unsure of the exact time, and it will be difficult to determine what it is."
I was glancing over the autopsy and crime scene photos of James Stearn, rifling through them when I came across one close up of his wrists. They were red and chafed, and I could see a deeper but vague bruising beneath all the inflammation.
"What's this?" I asked, taking in as much as I could without jumping to my own conclusions. Don't let this be what I think it is.
"His wrists were bound with duct tape," Maura said, her voice quiet.
"Was his mouth taped too?" I asked, just as I uncovered the photograph of his face, which answered the questions for me. It was also red in the shape of a strip of tape around his mouth. Like someone had ripped it off his face just before or right after he died.
I glanced up at Frost, who just stared at me, his eyes sympathetic. I held eye contact with him as I spoke again. "And the murder weapon?" I didn't really want to hear the answer.
"A scalpel," Maura said. I could feel her eyes on me, and I looked down at her briefly before I had to look away again. Tears started to well up behind my eyes and I needed more than anything to keep them from coming out. Weakness was the last thing I needed right then.
"But how is this possible?" I asked, hiding the emotion in my voice as I continued to look through the pictures. "Hoyt's been in prison this entire time. Does this mean he has another accomplice?"
For the first time, Frost spoke. His tone spoke volumes about his concern for me.
"It has to be. There's no way this is anyone else. None of this information was made public so there would be no copycats, so it has to be someone he's trained."
"Someone froze this body for two years, thawed him enough to get him dressed, and then posed him at the park," Maura went on.
I shook my head as I walked over and sat down on one of her incredibly uncomfortable chairs. My hands started throbbing, and I rubbed them methodically, the pain making me sick to my stomach.
"Its Hoyt," I said, my voice cracking. "If James Stearn and his wife have been missing two years, then Hoyt had to have killed them, I dunno, six months before he came after me. The second time, that is. And then somebody stored the body for him and dumped it right in front of our faces."
"Jane," Maura said, as she rose from her chair and walked around the desk. She knelt down in front of me (which was no easy task in her form fitting dress and heels) and took both of my hands in her own. My eyes darted over to Frost, who met my gaze and held it steadily. I could see that he wanted to let me know it was okay to let Maura hold my hands in front of him.
"I haven't had the opportunity yet to be completely certain that Hoyt is behind this."
She was trying to make me feel better. Sweet of her. But it wasn't working. I knew it was him. He was still haunting me, even from behind bars. I let go of Maura and put my head in my hands, rubbed my eyes and then my temples, trying to make the dull ache disappear.
"Maura, it's him."
Her eyes told me that yes, she thought so too. But she didn't say anything. She just grabbed my hands gently again and looked at me.
"So what do you want to do?" Frost asked from across the room.
"I want to fucking find whoever this is and put a bullet in their head, just like I should have done with Hoyt."
Maura's eyes went wide at this, and I could see that she was close to chastising me for my language. She held back, though and Frost let out a grim smile, glad to see that I hadn't lost my edge because some lunatic was after me again.
"I'm talking about tonight, Jane," Frost said. "I'm going to have a protective detail on you, and I need to know where to tell them you'll be staying."
Ah. He didn't want to straight up ask if I'd be sleeping at Maura's place or my own. He was probably wondering why I hadn't U-Hauled over to Beacon Hill already.
I looked over at Maura. She kept her expression neutral, letting me make the decision for myself. Where did I feel the safest?
Honestly, it didn't matter where I stayed, as I long as I was near Maura and my nightmares stayed away, I didn't care. But for tonight, I wanted to be surrounded by my most familiar settings, just in case something happened. I wanted to know exactly where to reach for my gun in the middle of the night.
"I want to stay at my apartment tonight," I said firmly, squeezing Maura's hands. My eyes pleaded with her and I asked quietly, "You'll stay with me?"
"Of course I will, Jane," she didn't hesitate. I needed her tonight more than ever and she knew it.
. . . . . . . . . . .
At my apartment later, I was alone, waiting for Maura to get to my apartment after she finished up at the station and I was so hungry I could barely see straight. It was the weirdest thing. I never knew how my body was going to react to stressful situations because it was always a tossup between no hunger whatsoever and basically feeling like I was starving to death every second of the day. This time just happened to be starvation.
I was rummaging around in the kitchen for something to eat. There was no food. Hell, there wasn't even any coffee. Shit! I should have just stayed over at Maura's. At least she usually had a well-stocked pantry and refrigerator. I doubted that I even had any canned goods. Looking in the cupboards, I saw right away that I was correct. Indeed, I was fresh out of everything.
Shit!
And then I got frustrated. Mad, even. I started slamming drawers and flinging cupboards open and closed. I threw open the freezer door and when I saw that there was nothing except for a bag of peas god knows how old, I slammed that shut too. The noise, I'm sure, was horrendous. Did I care if I was waking up my neighbors in the middle of the night? Hell no.
And just then, I heard the key turning in the lock, so I whipped around to position myself on the wall out of sight of the door. My hand was on my gun, ready to draw and shoot if the need arose.
A meticulously manicured hand poked its way through the gap in between the door and the frame and waved a large handled brown paper sack back and forth.
"Jane, it's just me. You probably have your gun out, but I have food so there's no need to shoot."
Maura.
Thank God. I wasn't ready for another firefight so soon. She shut the door with her foot and I hurried over to help carry the groceries after I locked and dead-bolted the door behind her.
We got the bags all situated on the counter, and as soon as my hands were free I grabbed her and wrapped her up in my arms. I needed to be held, to feel safe. She was usually shorter than me, but just then I wasn't wearing any shoes and she still had on her heels. So for once, I was able to bury my head in the crook of her shoulder and neck. I breathed in her smell, which thankfully and mysteriously never smelled like formaldehyde. Instead, it was an alive smell, it was citrusy and magical. She stayed there like that with me for a full minute or so, and finally I pulled away, looking into her eyes.
God, she was beautiful. Everything about her was so perfect. I was lost as usual in her green eyes. The concern she had for me was written all over her face.
"You hungry?"
"Starving," I said dramatically as I seated myself on a barstool. "You saved my life, just now. I was wasting away."
She pursed her lips at me as she unloaded the food. Simple spaghetti and meatballs from my favorite Italian place. Perfect. And oh God, she remembered the garlic bread. I loved her so much I could have passed out just then. She sat down next to me at my bar and opened her own container of chicken parmesan and cut it to pieces daintily with her fork. I knew nothing of manners at that point, and the spaghetti was all over my face by the time I mopped up the last of it with the garlic bread.
Maura glanced over at me and chuckled. She picked up her napkin and tried to wipe my face with it. That was very Ma-like, and I didn't like it. I bobbed and weaved like a toddler, avoiding her hand. She was quick, though, and she grabbed the back of my neck and held me still. She had my attention then, and as she leaned in, I didn't, I couldn't, resist her. I welcomed her soft lips on my own, and didn't even mind that while she had me distracted with her mouth, her hands were busy wiping the sauce off my face. She won again. Ah well.
It didn't take long before the day's troubles came rushing back into my mind, despite the brief absence of any worries Maura and I had just experienced. The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach returned as I thought about Hoyt terrorizing me all over again.
I didn't want to ruin the moment, but I needed to tell her what happened the previous night, I needed to get what went on off my chest. I told her that I wasn't planning on telling anyone because I thought someone was just messing with me, and she stared at me as I stood up and walked over to my side table. I bent down and pulled open the drawer.
I held the plastic bag out to her that contained the flare.
"This was left in front of my building last night."
Her eyes were wide as she took the plastic bag and turned it over slowly in her hands as she studied it. She took a while to speak but when she did, she said she wanted to let Frost know about this right away.
"No," I said firmly. I had already thought about this. But maybe I should have waited until the morning to tell her. Oh well. Too late for that.
"Jane, wouldn't you feel safer if Frost was here for tonight? Don't you think you need an extra protective detail? Maybe somebody extra in the house?"
I shook my head. "No. I know that patrol is out there watching everything. Makes me feel safer knowing that someone can't just waltz up to my doorstep and drop off a damn flare whenever they feel like it."
She smiled at me, but didn't look completely convinced.
"I also have a gun, Maura." I reassured her slowly. "Luckily, I've been trained for situations like these."
After she rolled her eyes, she stood and walked over to me, wrapping her arms around me and pressing her body to mine.
"But Jane, what happens if I'm the only one in here left to protect you? What if something happens to you and I need to use your gun to save your life?"
I stared at her.
"Well, I guess you'd get hold of my gun and defend yourself if you had to."
"Let me practice," she said, her expression completely serious.
"This is not a shooting range. This is my living room."
She stepped back and held out her hand expectantly. What did she want me to do? Set up a target across the living room and let her fire at will?
"You want my gun?" I asked her incredulously.
"Yes. I want to practice."
"It's loaded, though."
This argument didn't seem to matter. Her eyes were big and bright and I can never resist her. She could get anything she wanted from me. And she stubbornly continued to hold her hand out for my gun. And then she started reeling off all sorts of facts about my gun. The weight and specs about the sights and all kinds of stuff that I didn't even know. So I reached down and unsnapped the buckle that secured my weapon. I pulled it out and looked at it for a brief moment. Did I really want to let this woman hold my gun?
I figured that if it wasn't loaded, it wasn't a big deal. So I pushed down on the release and freed the magazine, placing it swiftly in my pocket. I pulled back on the slide and made sure there was nothing in the chamber.
"Have you ever shot one of these?" I asked her pointedly as I handed it to her. She couldn't lie.
She looked nervously down at the gun in her hands and tested its weight; she seemed intimidated by the feel of it. "Ummm.." she said quietly.
I stared at her.
"Really?" I asked, surprised and not surprised at the same time. Who knew? She could have been a world champion skeet shooter for all I knew, she was after all, so good at many things. And now she held my gun in her hands and wanted to learn, now of all times, how to use it.
"Really," she said with a smile, and added earnestly, "but I'm a fast learner. "
And I knew she just wanted to help, she wanted to feel secure in the fact that she might be able to protect me if the need arose. I hoped for both of our sakes that a day like that never came. So I stood there next to her while she held the gun out in front of her body, aiming at my television of all places. And damn it to hell if I didn't forget immediately about my TV and realize that she looked incredibly sexy. Those forearms and hands flexing and tensing against the metal of the gun made my mouth water. She looked good. And I told her so.
She turned and smiled at me as I moved closer to her and adjusted her arms just a bit.
"Push and pull equally," I said, my voice husky, and I let my fingers trail lightly across her corded muscles. She shivered in response to my touch. And suddenly, the fact that I hadn't slept properly in what was about to be 24 hours didn't seem to matter anymore. I was wide awake and acutely aware of her presence next to me.
Maura lowered the gun and turned to me. Her eyes were burning with an intensity that I had been yearning for all day long. I longed to touch her, to wrap my arms around her, to kiss her at every opportunity. And here she was, right in front of me, sending strong signals my way that she wanted me to take her straight to bed.
"I think Frost and the patrol car outside have everything covered tonight," she said quietly, and I could feel her warm breath on my face. I could almost taste her.
I reached out and took my gun from her, never breaking eye contact with her as I took the magazine back out of my pocket and put it back inside the gun, releasing the slide to its original position. I hurried over to the wall and switched the light off. She glanced around, making sure that everything was locked and safe before she scooped up her overnight bag, grabbed my free hand and led me to my bedroom. I loved it when she took charge.
She tossed her bag on the bed and turned to me, running her hands up my sides and to my shoulders. She let one migrate up to my neck, gently massaging the tense muscles there with her thumb and forefinger. The other moved to my lower back, pulling me in as she closed her mouth around mine. The kiss was heated, full of wanting and need, and I never wanted it to end.
"Jane," she murmured against my lips as she pulled slightly away.
"Yes?" I husked back, looking into her eyes.
"I want something from you tonight." She hesitated, unsure of my reaction. "I want to try something new. I think it will take your mind off of everything, and I really think you're going to enjoy it."
My mind went blank and I couldn't imagine what in the world she had in mind, but you know me . . I wasn't about to say no to this woman.
"You think so?" I asked as I leaned towards her, my lips traveling to her neck, leaving light kisses there as lips moved against her skin. "What do you have in mind?"
She smiled at me and turned away, leaving me to miss the contact with her body. I couldn't see what she was pulling out of the bag but when she turned back around she had it in her hands. I looked down and was momentarily surprised and at a loss for words. A strap-on. Wow. It was a pretty good sized one too, and seeing as how she was the one who picked it out, I guessed that it was exactly what she wanted.
She confused my hesitation and surprise with indecision and her brow furrowed. "If you're not ready for something like this, we can wait. Or we don't have to do it at all. I was just thinking . . "
She was rambling, so I pressed my finger against her soft lips and she fell quiet. "Shh, Maura. This is what you want?"
I nodded down at the dildo between us and looked back up into her eyes. She nodded, and looked like she wanted to say something else but I shook my head slightly, stopping her.
"Maura, you're standing here with a strap-on in your hands, telling me straight up that you want me to fuck you with it, and you're thinking that I . . what? Don't want to? That I'm not ready for it?"
She shrugged, she didn't know what to think, I guess. I didn't blame her. I'd had one hell of a day. And so had she.
"I want this, Maura," I said firmly. "I want you. It doesn't matter to me how I have you, how we make love. If you wanted to go to bed and just curl up in my arms, I would want that too."
Smiling at me, she pulled me in close and kissed me again, the dildo pressing into both of our stomachs, a firm reminder of what we were about to do. I pulled back and took the strap on from her.
"I'm gonna go put this on and get ready for bed. You get ready too. Be in bed waiting for me, okay?"
Grinning madly, she turned away from me, rummaging around in one of my drawers for another of my t-shirts. I rolled my eyes and closed the bathroom door behind me.
A few minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of briefs and a t-shirt. My hair was down and a little wild, but that was normal. She was sitting on the bed with her back up against the headboard wearing only her panties and my t-shirt, waiting for me patiently. Her makeup was gone and she looked incredible. She always looked incredible.
I walked towards the bed and her eyes gravitated immediately to my crotch, where the briefs were barely containing the bulge concealed underneath. I was a little self-conscious. It felt very strange to have something like that in between my legs. But she didn't seem to care at all; her lips parted slightly and her eyes roved back up my body to my face. They were burning with lust. I could see that from 10 feet away from her.
She sat up on her knees, and leaned forward suddenly, grabbing the collar of my shirt firmly and dragging me onto the bed so that I was also on my knees and facing her. My sex clenched in response. I told you I liked it when she took charge.
She didn't kiss me right away. Instead, she moved her mouth to my throat, not touching it yet but letting her hot breath wash over me. She ran her hands down my shoulders to my arms, finally reaching my hands and intertwining our fingers. She pulled my hands behind her back and released them, leaving me to explore the skin beneath her (my) shirt there, while her mouth moved along my jawline down to my neck. God, it felt good. Her tongue and lips were doing sinful things to me and I was throbbing now with need. I squirmed in my briefs, trying unsuccessfully to get some relief from the base of the dildo. But she wasn't going to make this easy for me. She leaned down further and closed her mouth around one of my breasts.
My shirt was still on, and the friction she was causing left me almost panting with desire. I dug my nails into her shoulders, letting her know that I was ready. But she wasn't finished with me; she moved to my other nipple and gave it the same treatment over my shirt. I now had wet spots on my t-shirt from her mouth and tongue. Without warning, though, she reached down grabbed hold of my t-shirt hem and pulled it up quickly. I raised my arms obediently and she tugged it over my head, throwing it to the floor. I was ready for her lips to be on my skin, and she obliged, closing her mouth on my nipple and laving it with her tongue.
The briefs were soaked through now, and my moan cut through the silence in the bedroom, joined only by the sounds of Maura's mouth on me. I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck, tangling it in her hair, pulling her impossibly closer. Her tongue was making circles now, and I was dizzy with the pleasure she was giving me.
Reaching down, she trailed her hand down from my ribs, over my clenching ab muscles, down further and deliciously lower until she reached my briefs. She didn't hesitate. She grabbed the dildo firmly and ran her hand along it, feeling its girth and bulge against the cotton. I thrust myself further into her hand and her teeth closed gently down on me in response. I cried out into the darkness as pleasure mixed with the slightest hint of pain. I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted her right then and there.
I mirrored her earlier actions and grabbed the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it swiftly over her head and tossing it aside. No bra. God, she was perfect.
Her breasts were unabashedly beautiful, and I didn't waste any time. I gently pushed her backwards until she was on her back and staring at me intently from the pillows. I crawled my way up her body and pressed my lower half onto hers. She groaned and thrust her hips to meet me.
"What do you want me to do?" I asked, a little unsure of how she wanted to go about this. I was positive that she had been thinking about this for a while, and surely she had something in particular in mind.
She had a hard time focusing on my words and coming up with an answer. Her hands were busy running lightly up and down my back, causing little goosebumps to erupt in a path behind her fingertips.
"Make me come," she managed to say, her voice throaty and hoarse. "And then I want you to fuck me."
My clit throbbed in response to this, and I set out to give her what she wanted. I sat back a little on my knees and ran my hands slowly down her body, stopping when I got to the waistband of her undoubtedly expensive underwear. I hooked my fingers in the sides and pulled them slowly down her legs, bringing my lips to the skin that I was exposing inch by inch. I kissed my way down, further still until I was in front of her lower lips. I kissed around the outsides of her lips and inward to her inner thighs, loving both sides equally. Her hips seemed to move of their own accord as they thrust upwards towards me. I opened my mouth and met her center, flattening my tongue and running it down to her opening. She was so wet.
I had her juices all over my chin and lips then and I could feel her hands wrapping themselves up in my hair, pulling my head this way and that, depending on where she wanted pressure to be applied.
"Please, Jane." She said from somewhere above me, her voice desperate for release. I was becoming desperate myself. The way she was thrusting against my mouth was driving me crazy, and I wanted nothing more than to bring her all the way over the edge.
I obliged and closed my mouth around her clit, increasing the pressure and slowly grazing my tongue back and forth just to the side of it. She ground against me in time with my movements, and her hands gripped even tighter in my hair. Her legs wrapped themselves onto my back, bringing us even closer together.
"Oh my . . . " she cried out as her movements suddenly grew more sporadic. She was close, and all I had to do was keep her right where she was, maybe take her a little further, and her body would take care of the rest.
I increased the pressure my tongue was putting on her, and I picked up the speed just a little bit, moving my tongue now directly on to the tip of her clit. She pressed hard against me in response and moved maybe three or four more times in the same way before she froze. Her toes curled against my back, I could feel her inner thigh muscles clench around my head, and her hands just about tore my hair out as she held on to me.
"Jane," she breathed out.
She came hard, and her breathing was erratic as she rode out her orgasm. I kept my tongue directly on her clit, moving it back and forth slowly but deliberately to extend what she was feeling and as she came down from her high, she pushed me gently away, unable to bear the sensitivity.
I thought maybe she would want to rest for a few minutes after something as intense as that, but I was wrong.
She suddenly sat up, reaching down with both hands and tugged my briefs down, releasing the dildo and exposing my dripping center to the cool air of the bedroom.
"Now fuck me, Jane."
First of all, let me just remind you of how erotic it is to hear Maura Isles talk dirty. Secondly, the look in her eyes and the fact that I had just given her mind-blowing pleasure told me that she was always up for more action. Well, now I know.
I shimmied the underwear the rest of the way off my legs and positioned myself in front of her. She was laying back against the pillows, staring at me expectantly. As if she thought I knew what the hell I was doing with this thing. Ah well, how hard can it be? I thought to myself. I grasped the base of the dildo with one hand and reached down to run my hand along Maura's sex, which was unbelievably wet and ready. I wet one of my fingers and pushed it slowly inside her, curling it towards me and stopping only when I had buried it as far as it would go. Looking into her face, her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth opened up.
Okay, time to do the damn thing. I took my finger out and ran it along the shaft, making sure it was good and wet. I positioned the head in front of her opening and pushed slowly. The head disappeared and I almost came right then because that had to have been the most incredibly erotic thing I'd ever seen. I was thrusting a cock into Maura Isles at the moment. Yep. Me.
I pushed further still, and let her slowly adjust. It didn't take her long, and she was raising her hips within a couple of seconds to accommodate more of itinside her. I buried it to the hilt and held it there. Her eyes were still closed, so I figured I was doing it right. I pulled it back out, keeping only the head inside and then thrust it back in slowly. Her hands were on my triceps now, feeling them flex and relax as I held myself up over her.
"Harder," she whispered.
I didn't want to disappoint, so I found a rhythm, moving my hips back and forth as I pushed it inside of her over and over. I thrust in all the way and pulled back out, leaving only the head, and then pushed it back in again. She was moving with me now, meeting me stroke for stroke. At that point, I began to wonder how males held themselves up for so long. God this was tiring. I adjusted my position, moving my knees further up under myself so that my arms could take a little break, and Maura seemed to sense my discomfort.
She opened her eyes and frowned at me, but she didn't say anything. Besides her Google mouth, Maura is one of those lead-by-example types. She wrapped her left leg up on my right hip and reached up with her right arm to wrap her hand around my neck. Pulling and pushing alternatively, she surprised the hell out of me as she quickly rolled us both over and was now on top, dildo still buried inside her as she adjusted her legs to sit astride me. And if I thought seeing the dildo going in and out was erotic before, it was nothing compared to the way she looked on top of me, breasts on full display, hands on my stomach for support. She bit her lip as it went even deeper inside her and she was now able to control the depth and the rhythm. She leaned forward and kissed me, her mouth open and wanting. I thrust my tongue into her mouth and dueled with hers for control as my hips rose up from the bed to push further into her. She began to thrust her own hips, grinding her clit onto my pubic bone as she rode me. The strap on was shifting back and forth, putting glorious pressure via the harness on my clit, and I was so turned on that I didn't know how much longer I'd last.
Moaning into my mouth, she had to push herself away to sit back up and catch her breath. Her hands wandered around on the bed until they found my own. She grabbed them and brought them slowly to her breasts, and I watched, transfixed, as she positioned my fingers on her nipples and squeezed, showing me exactly what she wanted. Her hands left mine alone and moved back down to my stomach as her thrusts became more purpose-driven, and I began to push up into her as I squeezed and tweaked her nipples. Her moans got louder and louder and my muscles coiled tighter and tighter as I hurtled closer and closer to my orgasm.
I thrust once more into her, raising my hips completely off the bed and almost fell to pieces as my orgasm washed over me. I cried out, closing my eyes tightly and sitting up, pushing Maura back a little as her position changed. I wrapped my arms around Maura's back and closed my mouth around one of her breasts, flicking the nipple in much the same way as I had done her clit earlier. She threw her head back and held me tightly to her, continuing to grind against me as followed me over the edge. I felt every muscle in her body tighten for a second or two before she relaxed and let the waves of pleasure wash over every nerve in her body.
Once she was recovered, she moved one leg off of me and slowly lifted herself off the dildo, wincing slightly at the loss of contact. She reached down and undid the straps, helping me to lift my hips as she took it off and tossed it on the floor. Leaning down to kiss me once more, the smile on her tired face was radiant.
"I love you. So much," she said to me as her lips gently pressed against mine.
I kissed her back and squeezed her as she turned in my arms, cuddling her back against my front as the two of us settled down to sleep for the night.
"I love you too, Maur." I said, barely able to keep my eyes open. "Goodnight."
No nightmares for me tonight.
A/N – Hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think so far. Thanks for reading!