A/N: Okay, a few folks left reviews asking for smut, so here you go. A 100%, totally plot-free chapter. If smut isn't your thing, then feel free to come back once I get around to posting chapter nine. Sorry it took so long to post, but hey, holidays and whatnot, hard to find time to write and all that. I hope I made it worth your while.
Grace woke up several hours later to total darkness and more than a little confusion. Once her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she realized that she was still in her living room, and that she and Wayne had fallen asleep on her couch. She could just make out the time on the clock on her DVR without squinting; it read 12:30. Assuming that her parents were already home and asleep, she carefully shifted onto her stomach and started gently tickling Wayne's ribs in an effort to wake him up.
"Wayne," she whispered breathily, "baby, it's late. Gotta wake up."
He stilled her hands and burrowed deeper into the couch cushions under her afghan. "What time is it?" he asked huskily.
"Shh, not so loud. It's about 12:30." She uttered a muffled squeak when he sat bolt upright in surprise.
"12:30?! Grace, why didn't you wake us up sooner? Shit, your parents probably caught us." Grace would have laughed at the expression of sheer panic that she could barely make out on his face if it weren't for the fact that she knew how important it was to him that he make a good impression on her mom and dad.
"Caught us sleeping, yes. I don't think they'll be too scandalized by that," she teased. She loosened his tie just enough to reach the buttons at his collar, undoing his dress shirt so she could rub the back of his neck. It always did the trick when she needed to distract him enough to get him to relax. His head lolled back onto the arm of her couch and she leaned down to leave a trail of kisses and nips on his neck, focusing particular attention on his jugular. She was quite pleased to elicit a tortured moan from his lips.
"Did you pack a bag?" He nodded softly. "Stay here tonight. It's late, you're tired, you shouldn't have to drive home."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he questioned, eyes closed, a completely blissed-out expression crossing his features.
She smirked. "Why, did you have something particular in mind that would be inappropriate?"
He sat up, tucking her hair behind her right ear, whispering just loud enough for only her to hear. "Depends on your definition of inappropriate."
Grace buried her giggles in his shoulder, clutching him tightly in order to prevent herself from shaking with laughter. She climbed off his lap and tugged him up off the couch. "Go, get your bag out of the car. I'm gonna get ready for bed."
Rigsby carefully felt his way through the living room to her front door, pleased with himself that he made it without knocking anything over, or stubbing his toe and screaming in pain loudly enough for the entire building to hear. He flew down her front stairs to his SUV, grabbing the duffel bag that had earned a permanent space in the trunk of his car since he and Grace had first become lovers. He crept quietly back through the apartment, locking her front door behind him. Her bedroom was completely dark, but he'd already stayed over often enough to know the layout like the back of his hand. Setting the bag down next to her dresser, he knelt down and started rummaging for his t-shirt and boxers. It wasn't until he headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth that he noticed that Grace was already fast asleep, burrowed up to her neck under her bedspread. This struck him as a little odd; the fact that she was a blanket hog was nothing new, but she didn't usually commandeer the covers until the middle of the night, and it wasn't a particularly cold evening. Once he crawled into bed, her ulterior motive for hogging the bedcovers became quite clear: she was completely naked under the sheets. He groaned in frustration, loudly enough for her to hear, but he hoped not loud enough to be overheard in the room next door.
"Graaace," he whispered, tucking the sheets around her, "you're killing me here. Please, for the love of all that is holy, put some clothes on. A t-shirt, pajamas, something."
Grace tried to squirm out from under the sheets, but Wayne's hold on her was firm and unrelenting, so she settled for flipping onto her back and stretching out, cat-like, so that the full length of her lithe body was pressed up against him. She reached for the bottom edge of her headboard, allowing her more leverage, and put on her most sultry voice, one she reserved only for him.
"And why, pray tell, would I want to do that?"
It had the desired effect. He pried her hands from the bedframe, pinning them securely above her head and burying his face in her cascade of red hair so as not to get distracted further.
"Because, baby, if you don't, I can't promise that I'll be able to keep my hands to myself tonight."
"Just your hands?" she inquired sweetly as she slipped out of his grasp, reaching up under his t-shirt to rake her nails up and down his torso, tracing the grooves of his abdominal muscles and very carefully avoiding dipping under the waistband of his boxers. "Or maybe something else too?"
He reached around her waist and deftly flipped them over, landing on his back and clutching her body tightly to his, pressing her pelvis into his arousal. "Does that answer your question?"
"It does. And this is a problem because why, exactly?"
Rigsby sighed and sagged deeper into the mattress in exasperation. "Your parents are in the next room. Unless you are seriously telling me that you want to risk getting caught by your mom and dad."
Grace frowned. "Caught doing what? Making love to my boyfriend in my own home? If they have a problem with that, then we'd need to have a talk about boundaries. Unless …" she whispered teasingly as she traced her index finger down his sternum, "your real problem is that you think you're not up to it?"
Rigsby switched their positions again, slamming Grace's body hard into the bed and muffling her squeaks of protest with a breath-stealing kiss. "Grace, I am always, and I do mean always, up to the task of making love to you."
She reached under his t-shirt, attempting to tug it off. "Then why are you still fully clothed?"
He grabbed her hands, pinning them under her lower back before leaning down to leave a trail of kisses down the center of her body from neck to navel. "Oh, no you don't. If you're going to tempt me to fuck you senseless with your parents right next door, we're going to do this my way. Close your eyes, Grace, and keep your hands to yourself." Satisfied that she would do as asked, Rigsby climbed off the bed and stripped quickly out of his t-shirt and boxers.
Grace felt the mattress dip as Wayne pulled back the sheets to crawl back into bed, and immediately reached out to snuggle into his warmth. She was therefore quite puzzled, and more than a little bit disappointed, to feel him grasp both of her wrists in one hand and roll her over, gently but firmly, onto her left side. She felt him settle in behind her, close enough that she was aware of his presence but leaving enough space that their bodies weren't actually touching. She could feel his breath, steady and even, against the back of her neck and she guessed that he was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, head in his hand, staring at her. Normally, she wouldn't have minded being ogled in such a fashion, but his earlier concerns about getting caught by her parents worried her. She attempted to flip back onto her other side but he pinned her in place, using his arms to keep her on her side. "Wayne," she whimpered, "what-"
He reached around to cover her mouth while simultaneously leaning in to nibble on her earlobe. Once her felt her relax, his hand left her mouth and wrapped around her waist, yanking her backwards so their bodies were perfectly flush with each other. A loud moan escaped her lips as she felt his erection press hard into the small of her back and she immediately understood where he was going with all this when he responded by muffling her with his hand again.
"Shhh, Grace. We're going to do this my way, remember?" She nodded mutely. "I want you to keep your eyes closed, and just focus on the sound of my voice, okay?" She bit her lip and nodded again; he hated the lip-biting trick, because it usually was a signal of uncertainty for Grace. He left a trail of soft kisses up from her shoulder to her neck just behind her ear, tilting her head up in order to kiss her properly. "Grace, I promise I will make this worth your while. Do you trust me?"
"Always."
"Then I need you to do one thing for me."
"Anything."
Rigsby smiled at her unhesitating willingness to play along. "I'm going to tease you to the point that you're going to be begging me to take you, then I'm going to fuck your brains out. And the whole time, I want you to not make a sound. Do you think you can do that for me?" He saw the uncertainty flicker across her face again, but it was quickly replaced by determination as she nodded repeatedly.
"Good," he whispered as he settled back into the bed, spooning behind her. As he began talking, he started tracing random patterns along her side and across her stomach, feather-light, using just his fingertips. "God, Grace, you have no idea how much just touching you like this turns me on. You have the softest skin. I love knowing that I'm the only one allowed to touch every inch of it. But do you know what turns me on even more?"
Heeding his request to stay silent, she responded by shaking her head no. She felt a huge smile form on his face as he placed a kiss on her right shoulder blade. "Good girl. What really turns me on is finding all your sensitive ticklish spots. Like how you flinch when I trace my fingers up and down your side right here where your waist curves down to your hips. Or how you arch your back like a cat when I lick my way up your spine." He gently tucked away a lock of hair before leaning in for one last ticklish spot. "My favorite spot, though, is right here," as he dove down to suck at the pulse point just below her earlobe, causing her to toss her head back in ecstasy. His lips traveled a path down and around her neck, taking great care not to leave any visible bruises. Grace typically didn't wear turtlenecks, so leaving hickeys would be a bit of a no-no. She reached up to run her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, clawing frantically at him in an effort to gain some measure of control over their encounter. Rigsby pried her hand out of his hair, kissing her palm before threading their fingers together and wrapping his arm around her shoulders to hug her tightly against his chest, covering her back, neck and shoulders in kisses until she started writhing petulantly, desperately trying to escape his grip, which became even tighter in response.
"I'm nowhere near done with you, Grace," he whispered huskily. "I haven't even gotten to my very favorite parts yet." He reached for the edge of the sheet, peeling it away and slowly exposing her naked body to the cool air. She instinctively backed further into him, seeking his body heat, hugging her own arms to her chest to keep warm. Reaching for her arms, he clasped their hands together again, gingerly running their combined fingertips across her abdomen, up her sides along her ribcage, tracing along her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts, before finally stopping to cup her breasts.
"Oh, God, Grace, do you have any idea how amazing your tits are? They fit so perfectly in my hands, like they were made just for me." He started rolling his thumbs around her already-stiff nipples, teasing them into even firmer peaks. "Don't even get me started on how good you taste. I don't even have words for what it feels like to have you gripping my hair, arching even further into my mouth while I'm sucking your nipples between my teeth. The sounds you make would be enough to make any man hard in a second."
She reacted just as he thought she would, by arching up, pushing harder into their joined hands. "That's right, exactly like that, baby. Is this turning you on as much as it's turning me on?" She licked her lips and dragged one of his hands to her mouth, kissing each fingertip as she nodded enthusiastically. "I believe you, but there's only one way to find out for sure." He eased her right knee up, wrapping her leg behind his, using his knee to nudge her hips open. Reaching for her hand again, he pressed her fingers hard into her clit, causing her hips to jerk backwards forcefully. "Oh, yes, Grace, that's more like it. Feel how wet you are for me," he instructed as he guided their entwined fingers into her center, coating them with evidence of her arousal. "I bet I know what you really want right now. You'd rather have my tongue fucking you, my lips sucking your clit hard into my mouth, wouldn't you?" She gripped his hand even tighter, thrusting her hips forcefully against his palm. "Tell me what you want, Grace."
She continued to rub herself hard against his hand, trapping his fingers between her thighs. "You … need you inside me … can't take any more of this … ahhhhhhh … please, Wayne, need you to fuck me."
"The lady's wish is my command," he whispered sweetly as he re-positioned his knee, prying her thighs open as he aligned his hips to slide his cock into her center. He rocked back and forth, inching in a little deeper with every thrust forward.
Grace's hand never left its spot resting on her pelvis, the heel of her palm pressed firmly just above her pubic bone. She'd never been with a man before who she'd trusted enough to penetrate her this way, and trying to settle on one of the myriad new sensations she was feeling was impossible. She felt his tip bumping against her inner walls with every thrust, while she marveled at how smoothly and effortlessly his shaft glided in and out of her pussy. His grip on her hipbones became increasingly tighter, bordering on painful, as his thrusts devolved into a less gentle, more primal motion. What had started out as a slow burn was quickly threatening to boil over, and she knew she had to break his one rule in order for them both to fall over the edge.
"Please, Wayne," she begged, "can't take any more of this, need to come now!" She was thrown hard almost all the way onto her stomach, popping her right hip open as his thrusts slammed her lower body into the bed, trapping her hand between her clit and the mattress. The shock was all she needed to trigger her orgasm, her muscles spasming manically against her fingertips, the heat radiating all the way down to her toes, until the contractions faded into a softer fluttering, a sensation she tried to hold on to as much as she could, knowing that Wayne wasn't far behind. His entire body laid out flat against hers, she could hear his hips slapping against her ass as he thrust faster and harder, mumbling sweet nothings that she could just barely make out through the fog of lust currently clouding her brain.
"Fuck, Grace, you feel so good … feel how good we are together, how perfectly we fit together … love you so much … could do this all night … never want to be with anyone else … love making you come …" Anything else he might have said was lost in a series of grunts and moans as he yanked her up off the bed, leaning back on his haunches and settling her in his lap. Wrapping one arm around her hips and the other around her shoulders, he clenched her body in a vice grip as he threw every ounce of energy he had left into a few final sharp thrusts, muffling what would have been a loud, exhausted, satiated groan by sucking on her shoulder as he came. He rocked them back and forth for a few minutes, smothering her in more kisses as they both came down from their highs. She turned to flop onto her back, dragging him down so that his head pillowed on her chest, running her fingers gently through his hair. Once he felt her breathing settle into her more normal, even rhythm, he dared to look up at her, settling his chin on her chest.
"Baby, was that okay? You'd tell me if we were doing something that you didn't like, wouldn't you?" he asked nervously.
She pulled the sheets up to cover them both and shimmed down so they were face-to-face, cupping his cheeks. "Wayne, that was better than just good. That-" she reached up for a kiss, "was-" another kiss "-amazing. And sexy. And erotic. And did I mention hot?" Her megawatt grin slowly faded into a wistful smile.
"What's wrong, Grace?"
Her smile turned thoughtful as she started twisting their fingers together absentmindedly. "Nothing's wrong. It's just that … well, no one's ever done that for me before. Touched me the way you did, telling me exactly what you think is sexy about me. Like I'm the only woman you want to be with."
Wayne frowned at the realization that she might still have nagging doubts about his feelings for her. "Grace, I've got news for you. Any man you've been with who didn't make you feel like the most beautiful, sexiest, most desirable woman on God's green Earth is a fool and an asshole. I'm not going to deny that there have been other women I've felt strongly about, but Grace, know this: there is no one else that I want to be with ever again but you. I'll spend the rest of my life making you feel this way every day if you'd let me."
Confused, she leaned up to look closer into his eyes. "Wayne, are you proposing to me?"
"Just making sure you know exactly how I feel. The next step is up to you, and whenever you're ready to take it, I'll be here." He rolled over onto his back, snuggling under the sheets and tucking her head into the crook of his neck. "Sleep on it, okay?"
"Okay," she replied sleepily. As she drifted off, her mother's words from earlier in the day echoed in the recesses of her mind.
Sometimes, a solution presents itself when you least expect it.
A/N, part two: okay, so I lied. There is a tiny bit of plot development in this chapter. Anyway, this whole writing smut thing is hard, yo, (pun not intended), so it would really make my day if you all would leave a review and let me know how ya liked it.
