Alex opens her eyes to find her head secured against the warm soft skin of Bobby's chest. Turning her head, she cannot resist placing tiny kisses on his chest, rubbing her nose against the dark hair and inhaling the masculine scent of Bobby.
"It's about time you woke up, sleepyhead," Bobby's voice sounds out.
Alex lifts her head and looks into Bobby's sleepy eyes. "Hi."
"Hi there. Did you have a nice nap?" he asks.
"Hmmm, it was wonderful," she says, stretching herself out on top of him, shaking the sleep away. "You make a great pillow."
"Well, thanks," he laughs. "And you make a great blanket. That little body of yours emits so much heat that I might have sunburn."
Alex laughs, "Well, you did say I was 'hot'."
"Oh, Jesus, I almost forgot that you have a talent for remembering everything I say," he sighs.
Alex chuckles, sliding her body up so that she is straddling him. "Go ahead and say it, Bobby," she teases. "You think I'm hot, you think I'm beauti-ful," she singsongs playfully.
Pulling her down for a kiss, Bobby delights in kissing a smiling Alex Eames. "I already admitted it. Not only do I think you're hot," he says, squeezing her arms, "but I happen to know that you are hungry."
"How do you know that?"
"Your stomach was growling so loud that it woke me up," he laughs.
"Well, that's what you get for locking me up in your apartment and starving me," she says.
"Starving you my ass. I'd cook for you, but that would mean I would have to get up and I'm really enjoying this," he smiles, lightly squeezing her hips.
"Well, I have to get up and go to the bathroom, so get in that kitchen and make me some food," she says, getting up quickly and escaping his arms which try to pull her back down.
"You know, you are going to have to learn to cook if this relationship is going to go anywhere," he teases, swinging his legs out and sitting up.
Alex peaks around the corner, "I do cook, but why bother when you are so good at it?" she laughs, retreating to the bathroom.
"Women," Bobby sighs, making his way to the kitchen.
Alex returns from the bathroom to find Bobby slicing up some steak in the kitchen. She takes a minute to lean against the doorway and quietly observes her bare chested partner expertly preparing a meal for them. Her fingers itch to touch the pale skin of his back and trace the lines of sinewy muscle exposed.
"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me?" Bobby says, catching her staring.
"That depends," she says, walking behind him and pressing her cheek against the tempting skin of his back, "how skilled in the culinary arts do I have to be?"
"Can you make us a nice salad? The lettuce and tomatoes are in the fridge," he says, pointing to the huge black monstrosity he calls a refrigerator.
"Now, salad I can do," she says moving gracefully across the room and taking out the ingredients. "What the menu for tonight?"
"You always eat salad, so I just thought I'd broil up some seasoned steak and throw it on top of the salad. That way you get your protein and you won't bitch about the calories," he says.
"You are so good to me," she says, slicing up the ripe tomatoes. "You have anything good for dessert?"
"Well, that depends on you," he says, turning his head to catch her attention. "There's some of that ice cream you like in the freezer, but if you're really nice to me, I think I can promise something even better."
Alex raises her eyebrows, "Something better than Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie? It would have to be pretty amazing to top that. You know it's my guilty pleasure."
"Well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you," he says, flirting outrageously.
Alex is enjoying the new side of Bobby's personality. She has always caught glimpses of him in a more relaxed state, but they have unfortunately been short-lived. It's almost scary how easy they have fallen into a domestic rhythm, sharing the responsibility of making a meal and setting the table together.
It's not the first time Bobby has cooked for her. Many times when they have worked late on a case he would invite her back for a home cooked meal, complaining about the fact that she would otherwise just go home and eat one of those disgusting microwave able dinners.
That food is crap, Eames. Full of Sodium and additives. Do you know what that does to a body?
So at least once a month, maybe more if she was lucky, she would be treated to Bobby's homemade veal parmesan or curry chicken or some other dish he perfected. The taste and presentation would always be impeccable. The wine would be specifically selected to compliment the meal. Bobby has a fondness for a nice red wine, so it is not surprising when he opens up a nice Merlot and pours them each a glass.
When the meal is cooked, they settle down at the small table in Bobby's kitchen and enjoy the tenderness of the steak (You have to buy it fresh from the butcher, Eames) and the pleasant silence between them.
"I can't believe you ate the entire thing, Eames," Bobby says. "You usually eat just have of whatever's on your plate. I think I'm flattered."
"You should be, it was delicious," she smiled. "If I start eating your cooking on a regular basis I'm going to have to up my routine at the gym," she says rubbing her full belly.
"If I start eating on a regular basis I'm going to have to join you," he says. "I'm not as young as I used to be. The pounds don't shed so easily anymore as you can tell," he says getting up and depositing the dishes on the dishwasher.
"Oh, shut up. So you yo-yo with your weight, join the club. I always think you look sexy," she says, suddenly feeling embarrassed at her confession.
What's wrong with you? He knows you love him so what's the big deal with him knowing you find him sexy? You weren't so worried earlier when you were practically dry humping him on his Berber carpet.
"Even when I'm fat?" Bobby asks, pressing one of his large hands on his belly.
"You are not fat," Alex says, getting up and standing in front of him. "You're manly and you carry yourself in a way that…" she suddenly stops.
"In a way that what?" he asks, bending down slightly to catch her eyes.
Looking into the chocolate orbs, she says softly, "In a way that has always made me shiver. When we're in the interrogation room and you know you are on your way to needling a confession out of someone, your movements become graceful and powerful, even when you are pretending to be the bumbling Detective," she shyly smiles.
Bobby's pulse quickens at Alex's revelation. It never occurred to him that over the years she has studied him as much as he has her. The warmness spreading in his belly has nothing to do with the wine he has consumed and everything to do with the amazing woman in front of him.
"Alex," he says hesitantly, "Thank you. I can't let it go unsaid that over the years, you've managed to become even more beautiful and sexy to me. Not just because I love you, but because it's the truth. Every day you get better and better."
Bobby catches Alex fumbling with the ends of her shirt, signaling her uncertainty. "Oh, come on Bobby, I know I'm not as perky as I used to be."
"You look plenty perky to me," Bobby says, surprised to hear Alex insecure about her looks. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Bobby presses his lips to hers in a demanding kiss. Urging her mouth open with his tongue, Bobby increases the intensity of his kiss.
When he eventually lifts his mouth from hers, he quivers at the smoky set of Alex's fluttering eyes. "Your sexier now than ever. You drive me crazy with your smart mouth and your curvy little ass," he whispers, grabbing her behind with one of his large hands.
Alex's breath hitches at the glorious feel of his warm hand on her. She glances up through her eyelashes, "Well, why don't you follow me and my curvy little ass into the living room and we can talk some more about my sexiness." At the mention of her ass, she gives it a little wiggle for Bobby's pleasure.
"You better run, Eames or we might not make it out of this kitchen," he warns, squeezing and then releasing her from his embrace.
When Bobby lungs towards her again, Alex takes off fast with a giggle, running into the living room with Bobby hot on her heels. When turning the corner, she has to quickly spin to avoid being caught by Bobby and she hits her big toe on the corner of the coffee table.
"Oh, shit, shit shit!" Alex cries, sitting down on the couch, holding her foot in her hand.
"Eames, I'm sorry, did you stub your toe hard?" Bobby asks, sitting next to her with a look of concern.
"Ow, I hate when this happens. I'd rather someone crack me a good one than stub my toe," she gripes.
Bobby pushes her shoulders down into the couch and swings her leg up on his lap. Careful to not injury her toe further, he gingerly removes her sock and begins massaging her foot. "Is this helping?" he asks.
"Oh yeah. That feels so good," she groans, enjoying that the pleasure of his strong fingers rubbing her instep, distracting her from the pain in her toe. "You could go into business with those hands of yours, Bobby," she moans.
Bobby laughs at her compliment. "Is it feeling better?"
"Definitely. It's just a throbbing sensation now," she says.
Bobby holds her foot up higher, "Wiggle your toe for me, I want to make sure you didn't break it."
Alex watches her toe wiggle and is thankful that it isn't broken. "Well, this little piggy is going to be just fine in a few minutes," she says.
"Well, let's see if we can speed up the recovery process," Bobby says, kissing her sore toe. The soft pressure of Bobby's lips on her foot send sparks of electricity and heat up her spine. No one has ever done this for her before and she's wondering why she ever dated anyone else when Robert Goren was in her world.
Author's Note: Don't worry, there isn't going to be any freaky foot fetish stuff in here. LOL. Just wanted to show how much Bobby worships his Eames. More coming tomorrow, I'm on a roll! Review me pretty please. Don't make me beg. Oh wait, I already did! This one's for Scripted Scarlet and Bookworm – you guys rock!