Friends?

Chapter 7

The rest of the day, Riddick can barely contain himself for the events that are

going to happen later in the night. After playing dress up with the twins,

helping R.J. with his passes for peewee league, going over numbers with Ethan,

teaching Matthew to make a spitball, and getting them all bathed and in bed,

he's totally tired. He thinks about just telling Gillian that he'll take a

rain check but he knows that'll only make her want him more. Riddick slips

into one of the guest rooms and decides he'll take a little catnap to make sure

he won't be too tired to satisfy his wife.

**Meanwhile**

Gillian takes her time, sipping from her glass of tea, flipping through

channels but watching nothing in particular, until the sleepiness overtake her.

She pushes herself out of the chair, and makes her way up the high stairs, down

the long hall, and into the bedroom. Gillian wants so bad to tell Riddick that

she can't forgive him 'properly' tonight. She feels she will collapse into bed

is the right wind blows in. She checks on Laura, making sure she's down and

out for the night. One thing she can say about her is that she can sleep

through the night just fine. It's the mornings that get her. She pulls her

robe off, as she stands by the side of the bed in the filtered moonlight.

Wearing nothing, she slips between the cool, clean sheets, and pulls the soft,

comforter up to her ears. No sooner than her eyes close, she's sound asleep.

**Guest room**

3:43 a.m. Riddick suddenly gets up from bed in a rush, "SHIT!" He curses,

knowing he's overslept. "Gillian's really not gonna forgive me now!" He

scrambles from the bed and runs down the hall, stopping short of the bedroom

door. He can mentally picture her standing there with her arms crossed over

her chest like the night before with a pissed off look. Getting arrested is

one thing but missing out on a 'nookie date' with his wife is like treason. He

slowly opens the door hoping it won't make much noise. The door starts to

creak, causing him to still and shut his eyes tightly. After what seems like

an hour he finally moves again. He removes his goggles and sets them on a

nearby table. He glances over to the baby's crib to see his baby girl sleeping

soundly. Then with a predator like grace he moves over to the great bed,

hoping to god she isn't awake.

3:45 a.m. The numbers on the digital clock by the bed cast a green glow over

the room. He stands by the bed watching her sleep. He has been careful not to

wake her, but now as the air plays against her bare skin, his need for her was

growing. He listens to her breath flow rhythmically in and out, and watches her

chest rise and fall. Her breasts are left exposed as she moves in her sleep,

and the cool air has brought her nipples erect.

So many times, when she is unaware of his eyes on her, he watches her. He loves

to watch the way she moves, the way her hair blows across her face in the wind.

He loves the sound of her laughter and the way her eyes light up when something

she perceives as wonderful catches her attention. Most of all, however, he

loves the look that crosses her face and the wave that flows up her body each

time her mind wanders past an erotic fantasy. She is a sexual being, sensuous

and passionate. His sexual being, and no one else's. He's strangely proud

that he is the only one to savor such an indulgence. To no that he's the only

one she'll every have for the rest of their lives, only heightens his arousal.

He wants her, needs her, and has to have her. He eases into the bed next to

her, tentatively reaching out to caress her skin in the moonlight. A small sigh

escapes her lips, and he finds himself wondering where she is in her world of

dreams. He presses his lips to her neck, tasting the salty flavor of her skin.

It is then that she moves, that her eyelids flutter, and his heart races. 3:48

a.m. She turns toward him, a sleepy smile on her face, and moves her hands to

cradle his face, pulling his lips close to her own, and kissing him deeply,

softly, sensuously. "Hi," she whispers. "Sorry I feel asleep" He laughs

inwardly to himself, 'Me too.' He thinks. His mouth presses to hers once

again, his tongue pressing softly between her lips to enter her mouth,

flickering at the tip of her tongue. "Sorry to wake you," he whispers when

finally his lips leave hers. "You need your sleep." "Mmm, I'm not sorry." She

presses into him, her wetness obvious against him. "I need you more than sleep,

and I want you." Her voice is soft and seductive in his ear.

He moves on top of her, and looks into her face brushing the hair from her

eyes, holding her head in the palm of one hand. She moans, licks her lips, and

opens her mouth to him to invite his kiss again. He lifts her head toward his

face, meeting her mouth with the hard urgency of desire. Her arms encircle his

neck, and she presses harder and deeper into his kiss, their tongues searching

and their breath quickening. He pulls away from her arms and slowly, slides

down along her body, caressing her with his lips and tongue, until his kiss

comes into contact with her swollen clit. Her back arches at his touch, and she

whimpers at the heat that explodes within her. His practiced tongue travels

down along the lips of her, pressing deeply inside to taste her already flowing

juices. Replacing his tongue with his fingers, he moves his mouth to the spot

he knows will drive her wild. He circles her clit, coaxing it from hiding, and

flutters over the tiny bud; sending erotic jolts throughout her body. She is

always amazed at the skill he uses to easily build her excitement, making her

twist in pleasure. He knows exactly how to touch her, how to tease her, how to

take her right to the edge and hold her there. Soon, the movement of his tongue

and the heat of his breath drive her over the edge and into a shuddering

orgasm, ripping moans from her throat. He stays, his mouth covering her,

holding her, until her waves slow and finally end. "God, you're unbelievable,"

was all she can say, between her heaving breaths. "So.fuckin unbelievable " She

grins at him and crooks her finger to call him toward her. He moves up to cover

her body with his once again, and she feels the extent of his excitement for

her. Her kisses stray down his neck and across his chest, her tongue trailing

along to enjoy the flavor of his skin as she moves her lips up to taste his

lips again. Her hand slips down along his chest, stopping to tweak his

sensitive nipples. His eyes closed in pleasure, and his small moan let her

know how he loves it.

Her arms slips beneath his, her hands coming to rest on his strong shoulders,

she raises her mouth to his ear and whispers to him, "I forgive you." She

feels his cock jerk against her as the words leave her mouth. He plunges his

now throbbing erection deeply into her waiting opening. His strokes are hard

and deep, taking them both to a higher level of lust. Their lovemaking takes on

the smooth, fluid movements of a dance, each knowing the other so intimately.

They know so well where to touch, how to move, what to do to drive the other

crazy. Her nails rake down his back. He gasps as the sensation take him to the

point where pleasure and pain collide and dropped him firmly on the side of

unspeakable pleasure. "I'm close, baby, so close," he whispers. His face

strains and his back arches as he tries to hold back. She smiles, "Come for me,

baby. Come for me now." Her hands grip his waist and her nails dig into him as

his orgasm takes him hard. She presses up, taking him into her again,

continuing her rolling strokes, pushing him to total release until his body

trembles and he begs her to stop. It is then that, all of his strength gone, he

collapses beside her. His arms hold her next to him. Her head lies softly on

his chest. Their breath slowly return to normal and their heartbeats end their

race as they relax together in the darkness.