A/N: this short chapter will get very explicit. As always, reviews are welcome.

He was kissing her. Not roughly, nor even forcefully, but with close attention, making sure her lips could translate the pressure into a measure of how much he loved her. The back of her head was pressed against the pillow, and she could smell her freshly-laundered bed linen along with the simple body-wash he had used to shower with before coming over. His promise, so long ago, to be clean for her, echoed in her mind.

She ran her hands up and down his back, knees gripping his flanks, marveling at how muscled he was; both of them were leaner—tougher-than before. He paused kissing her and she opened her eyes, taking him in, and only fleetingly missed seeing Finn before letting her own lust take over, pulling him closer.

Jesse had arrived at her apartment bearing roses: not the traditional red, but, to her delight, a beautiful bouquet of delicate pink Queen Elizabeth's. He wore a snappy black jacket and trousers, over an open royal blue shirt. They laughed, since the shirt was the same color as her short silk dress. He placed the roses in the vase while Rachel fixed them drinks.

"Since you asked, this is my single malt of choice." She showed him a bottle of The Macallan 21-year-old scotch. "Don't ask what it costs." After adding a splash of spring water, she stopped by the roses, and breathed deep. "My God, thank you," she said, then sat on the couch with him. His deeply appreciative look as she crossed her legs did not escape her notice. She handed him his drink and they clinked glasses; after sipping, he looked up in surprise and appreciation.

"Paolo got me hooked on this," she said, pleased. "We had a drink together after every performance."

Jesse was looking at her Funny Girl poster on the opposite wall, alongside one of That's So Rachel. Rachel followed his glance.

"They represent my past," she said, easily now. "I'm determined to embrace it, all of it. And that includes you."

He turned to face her, and she saw admiration.

"Nobody ever knew just how tough you actually were."

"It was too easy to hide behind the disappointment and grief." She held her glass in both hands and sipped. The whisky's familiar complexity warmed her. "But Finn and I met Patti LuPone at Sardi's before nationals that first time, and I promised her I'd never give up." Rachel stared into her glass. "In a way, I made that promise to Finn, too." Then she looked up quickly at him. "I'm making it to you as well."

He put down his drink and took her in his arms. "I'm honored." She downed her whisky, then snuggled close.

"I'm glad you're here," she said, happy, as he kissed her. It lingered, and afterwards she breathlessly whispered if he was hungry.

"Yes," he whispered back and picked her up in his arms.

She felt his arousal, hot and hard against her mound now as he raised himself up on his elbows so that he could drop his head and tongue her nipple. She squeezed her thighs harder against his torso in response, still shivering from the way he had slowly undressed her.

To be honest, she had worried about this moment, afraid that guilt would stop her at the last second. But it never came, and the physical ache overwhelmed her, so much so that she dug her fingers into his back. "I want you," she gasped, "now."

He shifted his weight and soon she felt him tentatively probing at her entrance, sending shivers through her. She squeezed her eyes shut in pleasure as his soft tip rubbed her button. Her knees clamped on him, almost involuntarily.

And then he was inside, and as Rachel felt herself accommodate him, she let out a little gasp of finality to the pleasure, as if she she'd been waiting for this her entire life. There was the overwhelming urge to bear down on him, and she thrilled to hear him moan, while at the same time needing to suppress a laugh at the flashing realization that, while Jesse may not have been as well-endowed as Finn (Santana had privately worried that Rachel could handle it), he was substantially more satisfying than Brody. And as his hips began to move she caressed the back of his head, kissing him deeper than she thought possible.

She turned her head sleepily towards him on the blanket. Her bikini and his trunks lay on the grass a few feet away The sun was warm on her body.

"That was excellent," she murmured, and reached for Finn's hand, which had been slowly stroking her lower belly. He gave her a lazy grin, moving his hand even lower.

"You sure were," he answered, his voice dazed with pleasure. Rachel relished how she had blown away his expectations after that first time. She knew he thought her little speech at the Celibacy Club had just been pure bravado. What he didn't know—what none of the others knew, or even suspected—was how sensual she truly was. It was her little surprise bonus for him, a way of returning his devotion, something she had promised herself to give freely to the man who truly loved her.

Her knees kept in sync, still holding him in place, so that every thrust was anticipated and countered perfectly. Rachel brought Jesse to a moan again, bearing down as he moved, as if she were milking him with her very walls, because she knew he loved her, and was giving her such exquisite pleasure as well. His chest grazed her nipples, and she gasped again, almost letting out a scream, it all felt so good, and he pumped harder, faster, building up the anticipation. Her body felt as if it were being wound up, like a spring.

"Jesus, Rachel," he panted as she squeezed down again. Her scent was filling the room, as were the wet sounds of his thrusts into her. Their breaths grew ragged now as he sensed her close to her moment as well as his own—her tightening made him acutely aware of the ridges lining her walls. A drop of sweat flicked off the ends of her hair, landing on her shoulder.

The breeze off the lake cooled her body and she curled up, not used to being naked outside like this. Finn smiled at her.

"Isn't this spot great? There's nobody here."

She rolled onto her stomach and gazed at him as he lay on his side, watching her.

"I made you moan," she said, snickering.

It was time. Her response was now beyond her control, and as the spring unwound within her the waves flowed and she moaned Jesse's name as, in an instant, she felt her quarterback hand off the ball to him. She wanted to cry but needed oxygen because Jesse continued pumping, eyes squeezed shut, still sending pleasure through her until, finally, he let out a deep sigh. She clutched Jesse to her, not letting him withdraw, enjoying his warm, hard wetness inside her.

"I want you to stay inside as long as you can," she murmured.

They spooned together on the blanket, his arms wrapped around her from behind.

"I love you, Rachel," Finn said.

She asked Jesse if he wanted to eat—she had cooked some small steaks, but Jesse said he didn't want to get up and ruin the mood. So she snuggled close, spooning, letting his arms bring her to him from behind. She reached out and turned off her light. Being here in bed with him felt warm and safe.

"Thank you for loving me," she said.

"It is my honor."

The fact he didn't expect her to say she loved him in return convinced her of his sincerity. Warm, safe and happy, just before falling asleep, she allowed herself the possibility that she might love him, too, and for the first time felt not a twinge of pain or guilt.

"Thanks for being patient with me."

He kissed the back of her neck.

"It will be worth it," he said.