Needs – Artificial Selection
The humor that Aaron's interruption had brought quickly gave way to an awkward tension between Charlie and Bass as they laid together near the stream. He still seemed slightly embarrassed, and once their laughter had died down, neither was sure what to say. Silence stretched out between them a few beats too long, and it became more and more obvious that they probably needed to talk about what they'd just done and what it meant to each of them. Unfortunately, healthy open dialogue wasn't exactly the bedrock of their relationship. Unless moaning each other's names counted for conversation. The longer they sat in silence, the more uncomfortable it became, and the more hesitant either became to speak first.
Charlie knew that she'd come to him because she'd missed him on a couple different levels. His previous wrong-doings seemingly forgiven by the rest of her family in light of recent events, she couldn't see any reason for her to continue to hold a grudge when all she really wanted to hold was him. What she didn't know, was what it had meant to him. She had noticed his initial hesitation, and didn't know why he'd started out reluctant to be with her, or why he gave into her. There was a world of difference between rekindling everything they'd had before, and being horny enough to not stop her aggressive advances when she started grinding on his lap. She really wished she knew where on the spectrum this encounter landed for him. She wanted to ask, but the question seemed to catch in her throat as she stared up into deep blue eyes that looked equally confused and apprehensive as her own.
Unable to handle the introspective quiet any longer, Bass moved first. He peeled himself off of Charlie where she'd been pinned beneath him and stammered something about needing to get cleaned up as he stood. She watched, almost dumbfounded, as he made his way over to the stream, pulled off his pants, and set about removing the evidence of their dalliance. Charlie found herself inadvertently turning away, as if to lend the situation some modesty. When had either of them ever worried about modesty when it came to the other? Everything just seemed off now. All too late, she started to reconsider the merits of her seduce-now-talk-later approach.
Once he'd tidied up and redressed, he stepped up behind her. She turned at the sound of his approach.
"We should get back." He said it softly, but the words held more indecisiveness than concern. "Aaron's probably gonna…"
"Yeah." Charlie didn't need him to finish the sentence out loud. Her mind was still racing and caught onto the notion that discussion of Aaron informing the others that they were seemingly back together was an excellent segue into asking him if they really were back together, but somehow the words just wouldn't come out. She was a little scared that the answer might not be the one she wanted.
Bass extended an arm in the direction of their camp, indicating that she could take the lead. She started on her way with him close behind, and thoughts of what kind of answer she really wanted were swarming through her head. She wanted to hear him say that it was more than meaningless sex. They'd had something before, and she wanted it back, though she'd be the first to admit that there was no world in which she and Sebastian Monroe would ever profess their undying love for each other. They weren't then, now, nor ever in the perceivable future would they be in love. Love was something for people that looked toward tomorrow with hope, envisioned a future full of happily ever afters. What they had had together was simpler, truer. Neither of them was naïve enough to believe in that their battle with the Patriots would leave them much of any length of a future, let alone one with a happy ending. Not believing in tomorrow any more than they believed in fairy tales, the best that they could have hoped for was someone that they could trust for now. Now was all they had, and it had seemed better, easier, when they were together. That was something she could believe in, and without it she just felt adrift.
She glanced back at him, hoping to catch some glimpse of an expression or anything that would give her a clue as to what was going on in his mind. He was looking down at the ground and chewing at the inside of his lower lip. It was a nervous habit of his she'd picked up on. Most of the time she never saw him do it, but would find the evidence of the displacement behavior when she'd pull his lip through her teeth or suck on it in the throes of passion. Her mind briefly wondered what it was that he had to be nervous about at this point, but then quickly refocused her attention on recalling the sensory memories of what it felt like to pull that bottom lip of his through hers. She'd stopped walking without either one of them realizing it, and he nearly crashed into her. He looked down at her quizzically, and she worried that her inappropriate thoughts were too evident on her face as he quirked an eyebrow at her. Before she could decide whether to act on her lusty notions or to come up with a believable excuse, he coughed pointedly and stuck his chin out in the direction now behind her. She turned her head and realized that they'd just reached the edge of the clearing where their camp was. Her family hadn't spotted them yet, but they would any second. It was probably not the best time to find the spot he'd worried raw on his inner lip and kiss it better.
With a gentle nudge from his elbow, she turned around and they resumed their trudge into the camp. As they entered the main space of their temporary home, they found Aaron and her family cloistered together. Gene and Miles were standing over where Rachel and Aaron sat together on the log they used as a table for their meals. Aaron had obviously told them what he'd stumbled across, and now they were about to come at them with a united front.
"Any particular reason you all look like you're about to stage an intervention?" Bass asked as if he was already fairly certain he knew the answer.
"We've been talking…" Rachel sent a pointed glance in Miles's direction before continuing, "…and there's something we wanted to ask you two to do for us."
Charlie braced herself. She was confident that this situation was about to become equal parts awkward, condescending, and accusatory in the next few moments. She was completely unprepared when Miles was the one to speak next.
"Messenger from Texas should be through here in the next day or two. We ought to have somebody in town to hear what he has to say in person." Miles ground out through a clenched jaw.
Rachel then continued in an uncharacteristically supportive tone, "You two have had a rough couple of days. Why don't you go blend with the locals for the night? Have some drinks, eat something you didn't have to catch yourself, stay in town and keep an eye out for the Ranger."
"Any reason you all feel the need to send us on this cushy little mission of yours?" Bass asked skeptically.
Miles groaned loudly and started to walk toward the edge of the camp. As he roughly brushed past Bass, he shoved a small bag of diamonds into his shoulder with an aggressive sounding grunt.
More confused than ever, Bass and Charlie looked uncertainly at the remaining group members.
"I think what Miles was trying to say in his very eloquent Neanderthal vocabulary, was that we get it. This," Aaron supplied and waved a finger back and forth between the two of them. "…is happening whether we're ok with it or not. And it's a little easier for all of us to be closer to ok with it if we don't have to see it or hear it. Any more than we already have." He shrugged. "At least for tonight."
Charlie's face turned beet red. Sure they'd been expecting to be confronted, but instead they were literally being told to go get a room. She looked up at Bass, hoping to see some sign of humor in his eyes over the absurdity of this situation. Instead his facial expression was closed off and pensive. That wasn't encouraging.
Before Charlie could say anything to him, Bass muttered to the remaining group still assembled before them, "Whatever you want." Then he abruptly turned and stalked off in the direction Miles had disappeared towards.
"I guess I'll go pack." Charlie said awkwardly, for lack of any idea how to better end this. To her great dismay, Rachel began to follow her to where her things sat piled by her bed roll. There was already enough awkwardness today for one life time. A heart to heart with her mother regarding her sex life was about the only thing that could possibly make this day any more uncomfortable.
"Any chance we could not do this?" Charlie asked futilely.
Rachel looked slightly hurt by her daughter's comment, but brushed it off. "I'm not…" She started, but seeing the disapproving look in her daughter's eyes, she changed tactics. "No one is against you two. Not anymore."
"Really? Because Miles looked thrilled." Charlie said with her usual sarcasm.
"Miles is just concerned. About both of you. He's afraid of what will happen if something goes wrong." Rachel answered.
"Well that's just ridiculous." Charlie scoffed light heartedly. "I mean, we're in the middle of a war against an army we can't possibly beat, and I'm in some form of a relationship, or not, with a mentally unstable former dictator. What could possibly go wrong?"
After a serious pause, they both began to laugh at her assessment of the situation. Sometimes it really took saying it out loud to appreciate how truly ridiculous their lives had become. When they calmed down, Charlie looked up at her mother questioningly. "Why do you suddenly seem to be the one that is the most ok with this?"
Rachel shrugged. "I've known Bass longer than you've been alive. In a perfect world, I wouldn't let him anywhere near you, pre-blackout or post-blackout version of him." She knew Charlie was about to throw up an objection, but she pushed on anyway. "But the world is far from perfect, and that is, in no small part, my fault. You're right. We are in a terrible situation right now with the Patriots, and who knows what will get thrown at us next. While I'd love to see you settled down somewhere safe and quiet, starting a family with some nice guy, that's just not realistic. As much as I hate our current reality, the very best I can hope for for my daughter right now is that she makes it through the day, that we all do, and that we make it through tomorrow as well. And while I can wish that it was someone else, when all hell breaks loose, there is no one more likely to be able to ensure that you will make to tomorrow than that man."
Charlie looked up from her packing to see her mother smiling acceptingly down at her. She didn't know what to say. She couldn't remember ever having such a rational and mature conversation with her mother, possibly ever. "Well, at least you're on board with this. Problem is, I'm not sure if he is." Charlie muttered the last part.
Rachel raised an eyebrow at her daughter skeptically. "Uh huh."
"It's been awkward since he showed up at that camp, and he didn't exactly look thrilled about this mission you guys have decided to send us on." Charlie attempted to defend her assessment of the situation.
"You think that just because he disappeared after Miles…" Rachel smiled at her. "Don't think the way Bass stormed off had anything to do with you." Off Charlie's confused look, she continued, "Those two men are damn near physically incapable of doing anything without the other's acceptance. It would be disturbing if it weren't so adorably pathetic."
Charlie shrugged.
"They'll be back in half an hour, one or both of them will have some fresh bruises, and everything will be worked out."
"You sound pretty sure of that." Charlie questioned.
"Like I said, I've known them for a long time."
Charlie found her mother's assessment of the situation somewhat comforting, but it didn't completely appease the disquiet she felt in the pit of her stomach when she thought about her and Bass and what may or may not be. At least this little mission would give them some time to figure it out. Maybe.
Rachel stood to leave, and Charlie followed suite.
"Thanks Mom, for understanding. Or at least trying to." Charlie realized that Rachel never did anything in half measures – she set out to build a weapon, she built one that destroyed the world. She wanted revenge, she walked clear across the continent, was willing to kill herself, and then risked the whole world to turn the power back on to destroy her nemesis. And now, with all the irony imaginable, when she forgave said nemesis, she truly forgave him. Her level of commitment was admirable, if not pathologic.
Rachel reached out and embraced her daughter. Charlie was tentative at first, but then relaxed into the hug. Just as she was beginning to feel comfortable with her mother, Rachel added bluntly, "Just don't get knocked up. I will not be the grandmother to that man's children."
And now it was awkward again. "I'll do my best." Charlie mumbled and backed out of the hug.
Rachel made her way back over to where Gene and Aaron were talking, as Charlie noticed Miles and Bass emerging from the woods at the edge of the camp. Bass seemed to be nursing his injured shoulder and the left side of Miles's jaw looked slightly discolored. Despite the apparent injuries, as they approached the rest of the group, Miles gave Bass's good shoulder a shove, and they both seemed to be nearly smiling as they parted company. Maybe her mother had been right.
Bass approached his bed roll off to the edge of the group and started in on the same packing routine that Charlie had. It wasn't like they had much stuff to pack, but if they were going to try and blend in town for the night, they probably shouldn't be walking around armed to the teeth and looking (and smelling) like nomadic vagabonds.
Charlie checked with her grandfather about their levels of supplies, and offered to go hunt down a little more small game for them to see them through the next couple days in case it was more than a day before the Ranger messenger arrived with news of the potential outbreak in Willoughby. Really she'd just wanted an opportunity to spend some time by herself, collect her thoughts, and clean up in the creek. Thankfully no one objected, and she set out with her crossbow.
Charlie returned a few hours later with two squirrels, a couple decent sized birds, and a rabbit. She was also feeling a bit more clear-headed and a lot cleaner. A bath and a successful hunt made her feel accomplished, which always brightened her spirits. After handing off her catch to Miles to clean, she approached Bass. He was laying on his back on his bed roll, hands laced behind his head.
"Come on, partner. We've got a mission." She teased.
He stretched, his arms extended above his head. The movement scrunched up his face and pulled the hem of his t shirt up, exposing a patch of tan skin and taught muscles just above the top of his jeans. Charlie couldn't help but stare. When he began to sit up, their eyes met, and he gave her a look indicating that he'd certainly noticed her ogling.
"You sure are in a hurry. Any reason for that?" He teased.
"Just following orders." She smiled down at him and extended her hand down to help him up.
He took the offered hand and let her help hoist him to his feet. Once standing, he quickly dropped her hand and reached for his pack. "Best not disappoint General Matheson." There was a slight bitterness to the way he'd said it that she suspected had far more to do with whatever had taken place between him and her uncle in the woods than it did with her.
"And I'm hungry." She added as an afterthought to try and steer the conversation away from whatever was eating at him.
He shrugged, accepting her new answer, and started off toward town. She followed behind and tried to avoid the stares of her family as they exited the camp to go spend a night in a hotel room. No insinuation there. Nope.
The walk didn't take long, but it was made mostly in silence. As they approached the edge of the town, Charlie tried to strike up a conversation. "So when do you think the Ranger will get here?"
"Your guess is as good as mine." He offered nothing beyond that answer.
She wasn't sure what she'd done to deserve the silent treatment, but while she had hoped that they would talk a little more, the quiet between them didn't seem particularly strained. So she tried not to read too much into it.
Even though they both knew the real reason they'd been sent on this farce of a mission, they both became on point when they entered the town around dusk. There should have been no chance of danger to them, but if it weren't for bad luck, neither of them would have any luck at all, so they remained guarded and vigilant. They made their way to the bar/boarding house on the main street. It was the center of the town's social scene and the most likely place that a Texas rider coming through the town would stop to disseminate news. Also, it had booze. That alone was enough of a reason for it to be their first stop. Bass saw to getting them a room for the night and taking their bags up to it while Charlie ordered them some food.
The kitchen's special for the night was a beef stew. It was better than anything her mom had ever managed to cobble together, and not just because of the superior meat. Charlie wouldn't mind if she never ate squirrel ever again in her life. "The other other white meat" Aaron had always called it, though she never got the joke, even after all these years.
Most every other shop in town had closed for the evening, and so there was nothing more to do than to settle in. They sat at the bar with their stew and a bottle of whatever alcoholic concoction was dripping out of the still in the back of the building. They ate and forced some slight mindless banter to appear to the crowd like any other couple traveling through. They finished their meal and continued drinking.
After a while, Bass joined in on a poker game at a nearby table and Charlie made small talk with the bartender, hoping to glean any new information about what was happening back in Texas. He knew nothing beyond what her family had already found out. Bass seemed to have struck out similarly with the local gamblers, but had also managed to lose a few diamonds in the process. Though he had garnered the attention of one of the younger female waitresses. Charlie knew he was just trying to get information, the same way she'd done with the bartender, but she was still insecure enough about where they stood that she felt pangs of unwelcomed and unwarranted jealousy tearing at her insides. She downed a couple shots in rapid succession and, carrying what was left of the bottle with her, made her way over to a booth at the back of the bar that had opened up. She sat facing the back of the building so that she wouldn't be able to see what was going on at the poker table.
Charlie was a true Matheson, in the fact that her version of dessert was usually liquid and more than eighty proof. Though this time, when a waitress (fortunately not the one that had been hitting on Bass) walked up and recommended she try the apple pie, she decided to give it a chance. A few minutes later, the pastry had barely been set down in front of her when a fork darted out from across the table and snagged a piece. Bass was chewing on the pilfered bite of pie as he slid into the booth across from her.
"I didn't know you had a sweet tooth." He said cheerily as he reached out for another forkful.
She just shrugged and dug her own fork into the quickly disappearing slice of pie. "Needed something to do besides sit around and watch you… pump the locals for information." She made little effort to hide the double entendre and hint of bitterness in her voice. Maybe it was time to start slowing down on the booze.
He laughed at her. "Charlotte Matheson, are you jealous?"
"No." She blurted out defensively, then added, "Jesus Bass, are you drunk? You shouldn't say my name that loud. Someone could hear."
He held up three fingers and sequentially folded each down as he listed off his responses. "One, yes you are. Two, maybe. And three, no one's listening." Then he smiled as if he was rather proud of himself for managing to address each of those points without forgetting one.
Her mouth dropped open in shock as she realized what was sitting before her. It was Sebastian Monroe, happy drunk. She'd heard some of the stories he told about him and Miles pre-blackout, so she knew that this creature had theoretically existed, she just never thought she'd actually see it. Sure she'd seen him black out drunk more than enough times by now, but those were all times when he'd started drinking out of anger or grief. Alcohol usually left him sullen and broody. Not tonight. Here he'd actually just relaxed and seemed to be enjoying himself… and her pie.
"Hey!" She complained as she realized that he was shoveling the last oversized chunk of pie into his mouth. Under the table she kicked his shin. "That was mine."
"Sorry." He garbled around a full mouth and signaled for the waitress to bring them another piece.
She kicked at him again, but this time his hand shot beneath the table and caught her foot before she could make contact. He lingered a bit too long, not letting go of her ankle and making very pointed eye contact. Happy drunk Monroe was really good at this flirting thing, she realized as she felt her stomach drop under his stare and the fact that his thumb was starting to rub caressing circles she could feel through her boot against her calf. She was saved by the return of her waitress with the new slice of pie.
At the distraction, Charlie was able to pull her foot from his grasp, and just stared at him. Realizing that she wasn't going to start eating on her own, he scooped up a forkful of the desert and held it out to her. She looked at him like he'd lost his damned mind if he thought she was going to let him spoon feed her. Then out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the offending waitress from earlier at the poker table eyeing her maliciously. A vindictive smile pulled at Charlie's lips and she parted them. He slid the fork into her mouth and she made every effort to look as seductive as possible as he gently pulled it out.
He seemed to be watching her curiously, unsure about her sudden change in attitude. She just chewed her pie victoriously as she saw the waitress turn away in disgust. It really was pretty good. Then he seemed to realize what she'd been up to and laughed.
"Told you you were jealous."
"Shut up and eat this."
He raised an eyebrow at her suggestively.
"The pie!" She corrected.
He just shrugged and took a forkful. Then they both started laughing.
They finished the pie in short order and switched from liquor to water before they both ended up too wasted to be of any use if the messenger did show up. Their conversation stayed light and superficial, but at least they were talking.
The hour was getting late and the number of patrons in the bar was starting to dwindle. Charlie figured that they'd give it another half hour or so before turning in themselves. There'd been no sign of the messenger, and it was more and more doubtful that he would arrive that night as the hours stretched on.
What Charlie also didn't want to admit was that she was teetering between wanting to get to their rented room above the bar as quickly as possible and putting off whatever was about to come that night. Initially she'd found herself racked with nerves at the prospect of spending the whole night with him like this. She still didn't know why he'd seemed less than thrilled at the prospect of this outing, raising her concerns that he wasn't ready or willing to recommit to whatever it was that had been between them. Fortunately, even as she was sobering up slightly, she'd still drank more than enough of the local tavern's home brew to numb her concern and add fuel to the flame that drew her to him like a moth.
He was telling some story about Miles's birthday at a beach and some girl with one leg, but she wasn't really paying attention. He was actually smiling as he told the story, and the foreign facial expression intrigued her to the point where she almost couldn't look away from his mouth. As she just kept watching him talk and laugh, she started to feel the built up sexual tension from that morning that she, unlike him, had been unable to release. She felt an overwhelming need to be touching him at that point, and couldn't manage to come up with any good reasons for why she shouldn't. Their feet had been resting next to each other's under the table for a while at that point. She slowly shifted her foot, and began running the top of the toe of her boot up the inside of his calf.
"Charlie, what are you doing?"
She almost didn't register that he'd stopped the story. Then, the spell of the moment broke and she became concerned that she'd crossed a line she shouldn't have. "I just… I can stop…" She stammered quickly.
As she moved to pull her foot away, he caught her ankle once again. "Why would I want you to stop?" He lifted her foot up so that it was now in his lap, resting against his inner thigh, as he began once again to massage her calf and ankle. She curled her toes at the sensation and caused her foot to rub along his thigh. She felt his muscles tighten under the worn sole of her boots.
He let out a low growl and looked at her with hooded eyes.
"What?" She questioned innocently.
"When you do that it makes me want to drag you upstairs right now, but it also makes it so that I can't really get up and do that at the moment."
She shot him a confused look.
Exasperated, he motioned to the bench seat next to him with his eyes and patted the seat. Taking the hint, she withdrew her foot from his lap and slid around the table to sit on the bench next to him. Once she settled in, their shoulders and knees touching, he took her hand and placed it firmly in his lap against his jeans. There was no mistaking what she felt under her palm.
He whispered in her ear, his voice gravely with desire, "You make me so fucking hard, I can't get out of this seat without giving everyone in this place a show."
She felt her face flush in embarrassment and desire, and dropped it to hide her reaction from him. Though she had yet to remove her hand from his lap.
"Hey," he murmured softly in his ear. "Look at me."
She lifted her chin back up to face him.
"I know you know what you do to me." His voice had become nearly tender in her ear, but still kept its very seductive quality.
"It's just… hearing you say it… here, in public…"
"It bothers you?" He asked.
"Not exactly." She met his eyes and let her hand apply a bit more pressure to his erection straining through denim beneath it.
"Fuck." He ground out through clenched teeth. His hand slowly drifted across her upper leg to her inner thigh. He gripped roughly at the sensitive flesh there, causing her to press her thighs together tightly around his hand. "You have no idea… The things you make me want to do to you…" It was hot and breathy right in her ear.
To Charlie, the rest of the world had dropped away. She didn't care that they were in public, talking dirty and nearly rubbing each other off through their clothes in that booth. She had never wanted the man next to her as badly as she did at that moment. She didn't care if it was just sex. Sex with him might just be enough. She turned her head and leaned in so that now she was whispering in his ear, her lips skimming across the lobe as she spoke. "Tell me."
He needed no further encouragement, but she continued to squeeze the front of his jeans roughly. It earned a sharp exhale on his part before he nearly growled into her ear. "You keep that up and we're not going to make it upstairs." The only response he got was a wicked lusty smile, so he continued. "You're making me want to rip off your pants and take you right here. You pull my cock out and just get in my lap here in this seat. I'll make you scream so loud everyone will be looking, know exactly what we're doing. Then fuck it, no point in hiding it. I'll bend you over the table and take you from behind, fuck you so hard, neither of us will be able to walk straight for days."
"What's stopping you?" She was stroking the front of his jeans in earnest.
He let out a deep sigh and seemed to be trying to regain control of himself. "Can't imagine you going for the exhibitionist thing. And I'm not really sure I want everybody watching, seeing you."
"Good points." She said it as she removed her hand from his crotch, eliciting a small whimper from him. "But I've had enough talking. Let's go upstairs."
He took a deep breath and nodded. He clutched her hand in his as she started sliding out of the booth. He tossed a few small diamonds on the table for their waitress, and pulled her back to him as soon as he stood, digging his massive erection into her lower back and shielding it from view of any nosy bar patrons. Moving together, they made their way for the stairs that would lead to their room.
She glanced back at him occasionally as she led the way up the stairs down the hallway. When they reached their room she gave him a little smirk before shoving her hand into the front pocket of his jeans. She let her hand search around unnecessarily for a moment, grazing against his over sensitized anatomy through the thin cotton of the pocket lining, before clutching the room key within.
He gave a tormented sigh and scrubbed his hands down his cheeks as she withdrew the keys. She could feel his heated gaze on her back as she turned away from him and slid the key into the lock. She felt him lean in, his chest millimeters from her back, as he collected her hair at the back of her neck in one hand. It made her fumble for a moment, and he gave the ponytail in his grip a subtle tug before growling into her ear, "Either get it open, or I'll kick it in."
She exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and twisted the key in the lock. The door coasted inward on its hinges and she craned her neck to see the approval in his eyes. One corner of his mouth tugged up into an evil grin as he dropped his hands to her shoulders and gave her a little shove into the room.
Using the light still filtering in the opened door from the torches in the hallway to guide her, she crossed the room to stand next to the bed. He turned his back to her and shut the door. Without the light from the hallway, the room was thrust into pitch blackness. He instantly set to locking the door behind them and attempting to light the small hurricane lamp on the table near the door.
As Bass turned his back to her and started at the mundane, yet necessary, tasks of getting them situated in their unfamiliar and temporary housing, Charlie decided that she might as well help things along, and she quickly kicked off her boots and stripped out of her clothes. The alcohol that had so emboldened her downstairs seemed to have suddenly evaporated from her bloodstream, and she wanted to get this started already to quiet the uncertainties that were now nagging loudly at the back of her mind.
This thing between them had started with sex. She doubted that she would ever be able to pinpoint an exact moment where that changed for each of them, but somewhere along the line it had. Now she was actually worried that it had changed back. At least for him. All the raunchy things they'd said to each other downstairs echoed through her ears and she felt nearly convinced that whatever this was had gone back to just being about more primal motivations. Maybe that was for the best. What Miles had said to her the night he had confronted them still rang in her ears.
"You have no idea how badly this is going to end. This isn't just something you play at. He breaks again, for any reason, and one of us is going to have to put a bullet in him. Just remember that."
So maybe it was better if he remained detached. Better for whom, she wasn't sure. Him, her family, society? Because as much as she had fought it tooth and nail, tried to deny it to herself and everyone else, and attempted to quash the feelings when confronted with the dirtiest ghosts of his past, there were feelings. She cared. Miles had constantly given her crap about always trying to see the good in people where there was none. But how do you look at someone that has shattered that many times, broken well beyond what should be reparable in even his best friend's eyes, gone that dark for that long, and not appreciate the small battered piece of him that kept trying to care about something, anything? Her. He cared about her. Or at least he used to. Her reactions were understandable and certainly justified, given their past, but still, as they'd stared down the growing feelings they had for each other, she'd been the one to blink first. Then he'd assumed the worst and left. Maybe to protect himself, maybe her, but he'd given up on her all the same. He had come back to save her, but not wanting her dead and caring about her the way he used to were two different things entirely. She didn't know where they stood and that terrified her.
Her insecurity was obviously telegraphing to her face, because his expression changed drastically when he turned and saw her in the dim flickering lantern light. He'd been smirking as he'd started pulling his jacket back off his shoulders, but as he took in the full sight of her, he froze and simply let it drop to the floor behind him.
The thoughts in her mind went silent as he began to tentatively approach her. The look in his eyes gave nothing away as to his underlying thought process as he crossed the room in three large strides. He stood tensely at the periphery of her personal space and seemed to be waging an internal struggle. His hands clenched and relaxed at his sides, and Charlie had no idea what to make of his apparent unwillingness to touch her.
"You're still wearing an awful lot of clothes for someone that's supposed to be… how'd you say it? 'Fucking me until I can't walk straight.'" Charlie tried to sound brave and provocative, but wasn't sure she completely masked her nervousness.
His eyes flashed something that looked like disgust for the briefest of moments before he slammed his lids shut and took a deep breath.
His reaction startled her, and she suddenly found herself nearly trembling and expecting the worst. Then he opened his eyes, and the softness she found in their blue depths left her stunned. Before she could say anything, his arms were around her, pulling her against him, and he leaned down to rest his temple against the crown of her head.
"Charlotte," He started in a sincere voice, "I'm not going to fuck you."
She pulled back slightly in his arms and looked up at him. "But downstairs you said…"
He brushed an unruly lock of hair back behind her ear as he interrupted her. "Downstairs I was caught up in the moment."
"Well then, I'm starting to feel awfully naked." She laughed out nervously. "If we're not going to… I'm gonna put my clothes back on."
"No."
"No?" She quirked a confused eyebrow at him.
"I didn't say…" He started an explanation but quickly changed tactics. "Men fuck certain types of women and in certain situations. That's certainly not you, and no matter how you felt about me when this started, that has never been us."
"So… clothes back on then?"
"Don't get me wrong," He corrected with a half-smile, "I plan on spending this entire night buried so deep inside you that no one is going to know where one of us ends and the other begins. But at no point am I going to just fuck you. We're beyond that and you know it."
Charlie couldn't stop a slight blush from invading her cheeks at his words. She was unable to quantify the relief she felt as his lips found hers and they melted into each other. She moved her hands up to cup his cheeks and run along the lengthening scruff of facial hair as they reveled in the familiar connection their lips and tongues reignited. She pushed up onto her tip toes, causing her body to rub roughly up along the front of his.
He growled into her mouth before pulling back. His voice was gravely and thick, but held a bit of light hearted self-deprecation as he grumbled, "I think we've pretty well established what you can do to me without even taking my clothes off already today." He pulled his t shirt off over his head and started at his belt buckle as he leaned his face back into hers and nearly begged against her lips, "Would you just touch me already before I go through the single most embarrassing sexual experience of my life twice in one day?"
Her hands shot to the waistband of his pants and dueled with his fingers for the honor of unfastening his button and zipper. Their mouths had to fight down the smiles stretching their lips to resume their kiss. He kissed her thoroughly as he kicked off his boots and socks, and she worked on pushing his jeans down past his hips. His hands were splayed at the nape of her neck and half buried in her hair, pulling her mouth ever more firmly against his as he kicked off his pants from around his ankles. Finally both naked, their hands began reclaiming the familiar bodies. His became hopelessly distracted on their southward journey by playing with her breasts. She took pity on him and did as he'd asked, sliding her hand down between them and assertively pumping his erection. His ministrations of her nipples stuttered and halted as his head lolled backwards. She smiled against the soft skin of his neck as she began placing kisses along the cords of sinew exposed by his position. She'd never stop taking pleasure in the way she could predictably manipulate this particular man.
"I don't want you to stop." He forced out words along with his ragged breaths, "But I need to be in you."
And just when she'd thought that she was the one in control of him, when he said things like that in a voice like that, there was no way she could deny him.
She kissed him gently on the lips and started stepping backwards toward the bed, leading him along by gently pulling on his cock that was still firmly within her grasp. The back of her thighs hit the mattress and that was apparently all he could take, because Bass tackled her back onto the bed at that point. They rolled around playfully for a few moments, jockeying for position, and ended up laying on their sides facing each other and pulling themselves flush against the other. He ran his fingertips down along the side of her rib cage, flank, and hip before gently pulling her thigh over his, positioning himself between her legs. He reached down to locate his tip more flush against her entrance, and seemed slightly surprised when her hand joined his and held him from beginning to rock forward into her.
"Charlotte?" His voice was full of concern.
She smiled at him to attempt to assuage his fears. She knew what she wanted to tell him, but wasn't sure how to say it. "I just wanted to say… before we start this time… you don't have to… It's ok for you to… stay. Inside."
The look he gave her was rather incredulous. Yeah. This had happened before and it hadn't really gone well for him. He was quick enough to be once bitten, twice shy on this particular topic.
"I know. But this time it really is ok. That's why I wanted to tell you before we started." She entwined her fingers with his around his shaft as she spoke.
"Are you sure? Because as much as I'm all on board with this idea right now, it's not exactly something we can take back down the road, if something happens."
She let out a small chuckle. "Not gonna be an issue right now. Either that time of the month starts in the next couple days or it's already too late."
The look in his eyes instantly became more intense. "Do you think you're… are you late?"
"No." She vehemently stated, and didn't miss the slight softening of his expression that she wasn't sure whether to classify as relief or disappointment. "Everything's still right on track as far as I can tell." With her period due any day now, there was as little risk as there ever would be. And tonight she really wanted this, needed it even. After everything, she needed all of him.
"You sure this isn't gonna end up like last time?" He questioned, smiling as he trailed kisses along her collar bone. "'Cause while the idea of coming inside you all night long has me so fucking hard right now, it's not worth it if you are gonna regret it in the morning."
"I'm sure." She groaned in exasperation. "Now are we gonna do this or what?"
He smiled at her. "Well, aren't you the romantic."
She treated him to a premium eye roll. "It's been two weeks and I've missed you so much, that all I want is for you to be coming inside me as soon as humanly possible. How much more romantic do you need, Monroe? Should I buy you some flowers?"
He smirked and shook his head at her. "How's a man supposed to argue with that? Forget I said anything." With that, he kissed her, used his free hand to pull her firmly against him, and slowly pushed into her.
She gasped and keened as he penetrated her, filling her and causing the familiar stretching and accommodating of sensitive tissues. He moaned once he was buried as deep in her as he could. They began slowly moving together. There was no rush, and they intended to take their time. Hands caressed, cupped, and teased as their lips met, parted to explore other areas, and returned to each other. After a while he rolled on top of her to push more fully into her. They'd wanted to go slowly, but Charlie found herself already getting close. She was just so relieved that her sentiments towards the man currently covering her were returned, and she'd gotten no release in their earlier encounter. She gave him a few shoves and he got the hint, flipping onto his back and letting her ride him. His hands held her hips, pulling her down more forcefully onto him and helping to control their timing. They were both moaning with each pounding of their bodies. Charlie realized that she wasn't the only one on the verge. A few more bounces and she was done. She felt herself clamping down around him and he let out a strangled cry that would have brought her to orgasm all on its own if she weren't already there. As her body continued to clench reflexively, he quickly dragged his heels up the bed, lifting his knees and causing his thighs to push her forward. She threw out her hands and braced on his chest as she fell forward. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and crushed her against him, claiming her lips as he lost control.
Charlie felt the tip of his penis flaring against her cervix as warm fluid spilled into her with each erratic thrust of his hips. They were both moaning into the other' mouth at the sensation until he pulled his mouth away to gasp for air. She dropped her head to his shoulder as his sank into the pillow. His hand threaded through her hair and began messaging her scalp as they both lie panting and sated, him still buried inside her as much as his softening anatomy would allow.
Once they'd both begun to come down from their post-coital highs, Bass clung to her shoulders and murmured, "Definitely one of your family's better ideas."
She laughed, causing her breasts to move against his chest. He pulled her tighter against him.
"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" He smiled and kissed her forehead.
"Not anymore." She smiled back and placed a kiss on his neck. As their bodies cooled and the night air hit their stilled and sweat slicked skin, she couldn't suppress a slight shiver.
He instantly reached down and grabbed the covers that had been crumpled beneath him, and with a bit of shimmying their combined weight, pulled an edge out from under them and draped it over them. Completely at ease, they dozed briefly, recovering from their exertions and the stress of the previous few weeks.
…..
It was still inky black when she woke, the level of darkness and pitch of the moon out their window indicating that she couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour. Then she realized what had woken her. She was wrapped around Bass's side while he slept on his back. It had been a comfortable position until he'd begun squirming and mumbling. He was dreaming again, and based on the increasingly frantic movements, it wasn't a good dream.
She'd learned by experience on their way from Vegas to Willoughby together that it was best not to attempt to wake him. He would be terrified, disoriented, and violent when jolted out of a nightmare. She was honestly lucky that she hadn't gotten anything more than a blackened eye the first time she thought she'd help by trying to rouse him. He had apologized profusely as soon as he'd become aware of his surroundings and circumstances, but that had taken almost a full minute. That man could do a lot of damage in sixty seconds.
He had told her after that first time to just leave him alone when something like that happened. At first she'd thought he was just being a dick, but after seeing it happen a few more times over the past few months, she realized that he really was usually able to break out of it himself. Eventually she found it rather sad. He was so isolated and paranoid that he'd learned how to wake himself from his own nightmares. As they'd grown closer, she'd also begun to realize that part of the reason he didn't want anyone to pull him from the torment was that he at least partially believed he deserved it. Suffering through his nightmares seemed to serve as some sort of penance to atone for his sins. He didn't volunteer any information about what horrific scenes plagued his sleep, and she never asked. She figured that he had a right to keep his demons as his own.
To give him some space to sort out whatever he needed to in his mind, and to avoid any thrashing limbs, Charlie got up out of bed. She walked over to the table by the door and blew out the flickering lamp, as the moon had risen outside enough to provide some light in the room. Then she walked over to the small wash basin and poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher that had been left there. She sat in the wooden chair against the wall and watched him. She had, in the not so distant past, received a perverse kind of pleasure in seeing his subconscious distress. Now, she didn't take any pleasure in his torment, but she couldn't help but appreciate it as a sign that no matter how monstrous he had once seemed, he was still a man who suffered just like the rest of them.
His thrashing was starting to still, and she knew that meant he'd be waking up momentarily. She moved over to the window, not wanting him to wake and find her sitting there staring at him like a giant creeper. But his flailing had pulled the covers down to where they barely draped over his hips and was providing her with a rather spectacular view. That thought really made her tear her eyes away from him, because the only thing worse than him thinking she was creepily watching him sleep was the idea that he'd wake and realize she was lusting after the sight of his naked torso. Smug bastard would get off on that just a little too much and she was determined to deprive him of that satisfaction.
She was staring out over the empty square and the marshy forest beyond, trying to guess how far away they were from Willoughby, when she felt his lips on the back of her neck, and his hands sliding around her waist. Her skin pimpled with gooseflesh as he murmured "Hey." against her neck.
"Hey yourself." She smiled back at him as she turned her neck to kiss him.
"Sorry." He offered flatly as an apology for obviously having chased her out of bed.
"Don't worry about it." She sighed as his hands began to trail down along her lower abdomen. She leaned back into him as his fingers ran through her curls and then two dipped inside her. He was already hard, a likely side effect of his spiked blood pressure that he obviously intended to put to good use. She ground her ass back against his erection and he moaned into her ear. He leaned forward into her back and increased the pace and tenacity with which he worked his fingers inside her. She had to brace one arm against the wall in front of her as she slid the other behind her back and between them until she was able to wrap her fingers lightly around his cock and began to stroke him softly.
"Might be time for us to go back to bed." He suggested seductively in her ear.
Truth be told, Charlie was actually rather enjoying the position she was currently in – sandwiched between the wall and his hard body. "But the bed's all the way over there, and this is pretty good right here."
"It has been a while since we've done it against an actual wall." He mused.
She realized that he was right. Any vertical sex they had was usually against trees, the side of a wagon, or the occasional fence. Wall sex suddenly seemed like a luxury they shouldn't pass up on. "A problem we should certainly address." She added with a slight laugh.
"If you think so." He traced his lips along her neck as he removed his fingers from her, pushed her flush against the wall, bent his knees to get the angle right, and drove his penis into her.
She moaned out his name as he slid a hand between her pelvic bone and the wall, using it to rhythmically pull her back into his groin and to let her rub off against it. His other hand made its way to her breasts where he began toying with her nipples, pinching and rolling them in a pattern that had her ready to melt. She kept one forearm braced against the wall to keep her face from slamming into it with each one of his increasingly brutal thrusts. Her other hand reached around behind them, latching onto the toned flesh of his ass and digging her nails in.
They were both stammering expletives, blasphemy, and each other's names with increasing fervor when he accidentally slipped out of her. "Ok. Forget the fucking wall." He grumbled and pulled her toward him, spinning her she that their fronts collided. He kissed her aggressively, his mouth claiming every inch of hers.
This was the way she liked him best, in bed at least. He was dominant and demanding, they'd skirt the boundaries of actually being rough with each other, but he would always be in control. He would take care of her fully, and she knew it. He was the perfect alpha male. It was what had drawn her to him all those months ago when they'd started this whole thing. As he pushed her away from him and towards the bed, spinning her so that he could bend her over the edge of it, she remembered him taunting her with questions about his superiority as a mate. Almost immediately he was standing behind her, penetrating her as deeply as their bodies could physically allow, one hand pulling her hips against him and the other in the middle of her back holding her down against the mattress. She bit into the comforter to keep herself from screaming out loudly enough that it would surely wake any other guests in the building. There was no question about it. There was no better match for her than him.
She moaned out loudly as an orgasm rippled through her. Bass groaned his appreciation of the extra friction her spasms provided, but still kept slamming into her. Being thoroughly worked all the way through her climax, she went limp once it passed. Every part of her felt overly sensitized for the moment. Though she didn't want him to stop pounding against her, they needed to, at least temporarily. As if sensing exactly what she needed from the minute changes in her body, he slowed and then altogether stopped thrusting into her. He pulled out and leaned down to place kisses along her spine.
"Get on the bed." It was more of a suggestion than a command, and she appreciated his choice of tone.
She lifted herself up and crawled forward onto the bed. Before she could collapse and roll onto her back, he'd followed her on the bed and clasped his hands around her waist. He nudged her knees apart where she was kneeling in front of him, facing the headboard. When he began rubbing his hands up and down her back, she knew what position he wanted her in, and she leaned forward to comply. Apparently this round was going to work through all the possible variations on taking her from behind. Resting on her knees and forearms, he mounted her and slowly rocked himself inside. While she did find the position a little less dignified, it did always leave him hitting all the best spots, so she couldn't really bring herself to care. He began flicking and grinding his hips against her, and she realized that the change in position that he'd instituted had taken just enough time for her sensory overload to subside. After all this time he could still surprise her the way he seemed to know her body as well as, if not better than, she did.
It wasn't long before he was having to do most of the work holding her in the prone position, as her muscles were about to give out approaching another release. Sensing that he wasn't that far off himself, he relaxed his hold on her and they both sank to the bed. He had one hand beneath her, letting her grind against it to produce the friction that would get her off in moments. The other hand he slid up along her arm and entwined his fingers with hers where they rested under her head. He kissed along the ridge of her shoulder, the gentle sucking reflexively turning into a soft bite as she came and her muscles tightened around him. It was enough to do him in as well, and he poured into her again, mewling as each of her contractions pushed him further over the edge. He collapsed on top of her when he had finished. Then he quickly pulled her with him onto their sides so he wouldn't crush her into the mattress with his weight. He stayed spooned up against her back and buried inside her.
After a few minutes of panting and slowly returning to full consciousness, he mumbled into her hair as he buried his face in the back of her neck. "Could stay inside you forever."
"Sounds good to me." She yawned with a smile.
Completely content, he kissed her neck just behind her ear before letting his head rest on the pillow.
Spent, he'd gone limp. Their position allowed only his softened head to remain barely within her. Their connection was tenuous, but both seemed rather committed maintaining their physical coupling as their tired bodies pulled them toward sleep.
…
She woke to the feeling of him gently rocking inside her. He was clinging to her, hands pulling her tightly against him where they had anchored over her breast and her pubic bone. And he was making these desperate little gasping sounds with each thrust of his hips. She had turned her head to look at his face while she teased him about starting without her, when she realized that his eyes were still closed and that relaxed softness in the muscles of his cheeks that only happened when he slept was still present.
He was still asleep. Apparently his body had stirred and set to task without bothering to wake him. And he wasn't just fucking her in his sleep. His hands were kneading at her breast and rubbing over her clitoris in time with his movements. Even unconscious he was still the most attentive lover she'd ever had.
She turned her neck as much as she could and kissed his nose, it was the only thing she could reach, as she gently rubbed her hand along his forearm. "Hey Bass, if you don't wake up you're gonna miss all the fun."
She could tell when he woke, because his thrusting stilled and his body stiffened.
"Wha…" His brain seemed to be a little slow in gaining momentum as consciousness returned to him. Then suddenly he seemed to register what had been happening and, sounding slightly abashed, he asked, "Did I fall asleep while we were…"
She laughed. "No. That started while you were still asleep. I just figured you'd want to be awake for the finish."
He chuckled and started moving within her again, his movements now a little more purposeful and that adorable gasping noise he'd been making having been silenced.
"And I thought it was all just a really good dream." He kissed the delicate skin behind her ear.
She reached down between her legs and trailed fingers along the base of his shaft before cupping and kneading his balls. "So what were we doing in this really good dream?"
"Jesus, Charlotte." He groaned blasphemously at her touch, her inquiry all but forgotten.
When he didn't answer her, she teased, "I mean, it was us, right?"
He instantly stilled and propped himself up on his right elbow so that he was looking down at her over her shoulder. He gave her an inquisitive grin. "You seem to have no idea what an absurd question that is, so I'm gonna remind you of something I already told you. It's. Always. Been. You."
She gave a little apologetic smile and he plopped back down behind her. He resumed moving inside her and let his hands return to teasing her nipples and digging fingertips into her hip. Then he lifted his head so that he was whispering directly into her ear. "After your little stunt in Philly, I spent half that night jerking off to the thought of you naked and yielding beneath me, hearing the surrender in your voice when you cried out my name as I made you come around me." He accentuated the confession by pinching the nipple that was between his fingers and working it roughly until she moaned and bucked against him.
"You do realize how messed up that is, right?" She panted, her tone teasing.
"Tell me it doesn't get you just the littlest bit hot to know you brought the most powerful man in the world to his knees." He purred into her ear before raking the earlobe through his teeth.
"The most powerful man in the world? You're gonna have to explain that one, because so far I've only heard you talking about you." She turned her head so he could see her huge grin and then gave him a peck of a kiss on his lips.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Clearly I've given up on the fantasy of being able to fuck you into submission."
"Damn right." Her triumphant smile was evident in her voice.
He rolled his eyes at her again. "And while I'm suddenly feeling like letting you squirm in your misplaced insecurities for the rest of the night, I'll be honest with you anyway. The fantasy may have adapted over the past year and a half, but I honestly can't remember the last time I had a wet dream that wasn't about you. Tonight's was an instant replay of what we were doing before we fell asleep."
Content with his answer, she settled more fully back against his chest and ground down on his erection a little bit harder as he surged as far into her as their positioning would allow.
"How long was I going at this before you woke me?" He nuzzled her neck and moved his left hand to start rubbing against her clit.
He didn't need to finish the thought. She could tell by the tension in his muscles and the timbre of his voice that he was closing in on yet another orgasm. "You had a pretty good head start." Was her answer as he pounded his hips against her back side. The gratuitous slapping noise of their sweaty bodies colliding over and over in quick succession was certainly rousing her, but she was still well behind him in the race to reach climax.
"I can try to hold on." He groaned.
"Just go ahead. I have no doubt you'll make it up to me." She entwined her fingers with his that had been vigorously working at stimulating her.
He kissed her shoulder and shifted behind her. She almost whimpered when she felt him pull out of her, but then he was rolling her onto her back and was crouching between her thighs. He slid back into her impatiently as he grabbed her hips and muttered, "Needed to be in you deeper."
She wrapped her legs around his waist as he plowed into her with an impressive amount of force. She wondered if either of them would be able to walk in the morning. In under a minute he was gasping and heaving as he emptied himself in her yet again. He collapsed forward on top of her and claimed her lips. She kissed him back until he pulled back to catch his breath.
"Sorry." He murmured as he laid his head on the pillow next to hers.
She laughed at him and stroked his back. "We can't always get off together."
"Give me a minute and I'll get back to work." He smiled.
"It's not like we're keeping score." She rolled her eyes at him.
"Maybe you're not." He quirked an eyebrow at her. Then he shifted to evacuate his half-limp dick from her and quickly replace it with a pair of fingers that began to gently pump into and out of her.
"Well I'm certainly not going to stop you." She skimmed her hand down along his arm and slipped one of her own fingers into herself along with his. "But if you're too tired, I could take care of it and you could just sit back and watch."
That first night in Willoughby had been the only time he'd ever seen her touching herself, and he'd had a very limited view of the show. She wasn't surprised that the idea had him suddenly back up and sitting between her thighs.
"You just tell me if there's anything I can do to help." He subconsciously licked his lips as he removed his fingers from her wetness and traced the hand down the inside of her thigh, leaving a streak of their combined fluids in its wake. He had a hand on each knee holding them apart to ensure that he had the best possible view as she slid a second and then a third finger in with the first.
Charlie worked her fingers inside herself, gliding and digging against the familiar spots that she knew would bring her release. There was so much fluid seeping around them from her own arousal and the three bouts of ejaculate he'd pumped into her that it was almost difficult to get the necessary friction. She writhed and tried to squeeze her legs shut as the sensations started a quickening feeling in her belly, but he held her wide open in front of him. Bass was groaning nearly as loudly as she was by the time she slid her left hand down to rub her clit. She lifted her head from the pillow to steal a look at her audience. He was leaning his coarsely stubbled cheek against the inside of her left knee, and he was watching her as if the world around him could have exploded and he wouldn't have given a single fuck. His hand that had been on her other knee had slowly traced about halfway up her thigh and his right hand was jerking futilely at his flaccid cock, attempting to will it back to life. He looked as if he didn't find something to do with himself soon, he might combust.
She had a steady tempo and she knew she was not far from toppling into what was sure to be a powerful release, but she couldn't stand watching him desperately watching her for another second. "Touch me, Bass."
The words had barely left her lips before his mouth was on her. His tongue dove in amongst her fingers and his hand replaced hers where she'd been teasing the engorged nerve cluster above his mouth. She slowly removed her fingers and let him take over the ministrations completely. She slid the displaced fingers into his hair and grabbed the curly locks by their roots as he licked deep up inside her. She'd smeared the fluid that had been coating her fingers through his hair, and found that the more debauched he looked working between her thighs, the closer it got her to clamping down hard around that tongue.
Knowing that she was watching him, he pulled his mouth back ever so slightly and murmured nearly incoherently, his breath tingling against her hot damp folds, "I can taste myself inside you."
That sent her thrusting herself back against his mouth. Surely that thought would have been quite unpalatable to some men, but not Bass. He might not be the megalomaniacal egomaniac she'd originally pegged him for, but the man did take great pride in his conquests.
After that it was mere seconds before she was coming hard against his mouth and bucking up into the hand rubbing her off. Just as she was riding through what had to be one of the last waves of the longest orgasm of her life, he thrust two fingers into her alongside his tongue that she was crushed down on. The penetration and the fact that his fingertips went right for her most sensitive spots restarted the whole cascade of contractions over again. She registered the sound of loud pleasured wailings for a long moment before realizing that they were coming from her.
She was gasping and panting flat on her back with her hands fisted in his hair and the bed sheets when she finally came down. He extracted his tongue from her and placed a gentle kiss there before slowly removing his fingers as well. Then he wiped his mouth on a corner of the comforter and crawled up the bed to lay on his side next to her. She let her hand trail out of his hair and down the side of his face to cup his cheek. Then she turned and kissed him. When they pulled apart she asked, "So how many points was that?"
"Hmm?" He answered groggily.
"I thought you were keeping score."
"I lost count."
She smiled and rolled towards him. Their arms quickly wound around each other and she nestled her head against his chest. He pulled the blankets back up over them, and they were both asleep within minutes.
