Author's note: Here we go. It's Sunday, so that means high time for an update. Thank you to my partner in crime UntilNeverDawns for the support and all that betaing. You're a champ! And so are all of you reading, following and favoriting. I really appreciate it. Thank you!

Tammy: "Death Wish" is spot on. That guy's really a major pest. Surprisingly ;-) Stuart IS thinking about hunting him down...

mox9: Thank you so much! That comment about the female characters in my story really made my day. That's exactly how I want them to come across sassy and not sappy. Writing Natalie sometimes means I have to go beyond my comfort zone, because she is so fragile at times. Especially at the beginning of this story.

maketimetotime: Thank you, dear! Kill the mood? Well, even Tony can't prevent the inevitable from happening, can he?

LivHardy: A book? Oh heavens, you flatter me. It probably could be when it comes to the length of this story. Poor UntilNeverDawns. I think we're somewhere in the middle here. Still a lot of ground to cover and I'm especially nervous about this chapter...

"I just hit Tony," she said, apparently only now realizing what she had done.

"Yeah, that you did, darling," he acknowledged and reached inside her handbag. Without hesitating he started to root around in it for her keys. Having found them, he quickly unlocked the door and led her inside. He tugged at the handbag strap on her shoulder and it slipped off. The bag hit the ground with a thud, but she didn't pay any attention to it. Since he hadn't heard the sound of anything breaking, he didn't bother with it either. She was way more important than that now.

The way she was now clutching her hand to her chest told him that she had already started feeling the after effects of her wanting to channel her inner Mike Tyson. He switched on the lights inside the kitchen and gestured for her to lean against the counter while he looked around the fridge for something to put on her already swollen and red knuckles. She owned no cooling pack, but had some deep-frosted peas, so he took those instead, wrapped the bag in a kitchen towel and pressed it gently against the back of her hand.

"There you go, Rocky," he smiled. His voice was gentler now, softer. It transported some of the affection he felt towards her. And for a brief moment what he had said seemed to actually have registered with her because she allowed herself a fleeting smile of her own.

"Who's the bare-knuckled fighter of us two now, huh?" He grinned and pulled her against his chest, despite her still clutching those deep-frosted peas. "That's better now, innit?" She nodded her head into his polo and he took it as his clue to start rubbing her back in soothing circles.

"I just hit my ex-husband," she summed up the situation again.

He pulled back a little, smirking. The peas were unpleasantly cold against his abdominal muscles, but what he wouldn't do for her sake... He leaned a bit further down and tugged a strand of hair out of her face. "Yeah, you did, sweetness. Marvelous punch by the way. Couldn't have done it better myself. I'm a bit proud of you actually."

"Figures. You would be about the only one congratulating me for actually punching someone in the face," she said, pouting despite not being able to deny the somewhat humorous under-tone of the whole situation.

"Well, he deserved it. Do I even want to know what he said to you before you punched him in the face?" He took a step back and gingerly pulled the makeshift cooling package from her grasp. Her knuckles were still red, but less swollen. Very gently he tried to open her fist and she sucked in a breath.

"That hurt?"

She nodded.

"Doesn't look broken though. I think you'll live, Rocky. I had far worse in my time," he threw her a crooked grin, which fell when he took in the insecure expression on her face. No confidence there and definitely none of that sass he had come to appreciate so much. They were back to square one. He wondered why that was.

"So what did he say?" he asked without any pretext, pressing that bag of deep frosted peas against her skin again, while he held her hands in his.

"I'd rather not tell," she averted her gaze.

"Why?"

"Cause you'd probably hunt him down and kill him?" she replied, slowly raising her eyes to his.

"Maybe I'll do so regardless," he pointed out to her and she sighed. Prolonging the inevitable was useless.

"All right then... He asked me what I was doing whoring myself out to some buff meathead when I could have a shot at the real thing with him," she had her eyes downcast as if it had been her who had said that, so consequently she was quite surprised, perhaps one might even called it shocked, when she heard him laugh.

The experience had something mesmerizing and surreal about it. Come to think about it now, she had at best seen him smirk or smile occasionally so far. It had never been full-blown, booming laughter. He was actually rubbing at the corners of his eyes once he had stopped laughing, so thorough was his amusement.

"Aaaaaaaah, bleeding hilarious!" he sighed eventually and there was still a smile on his face when he looked at her.

"So you defended my honor there, sweetness?"

She nodded like under some kind of spell, her mouth slightly agape. He surged forward then, briefly, but firmly pressing his lips against hers. Her reaction never came. He pulled back. His eyes narrowed as he regarded her.

"What?" she asked softly.

"I'm trying to make up my mind about something," he told her evenly.

"About what?" she asked sort of breathlessly. He was in a strange mood just now, displaying sides of his character she wasn't all too familiar with. Gentleness, caring, humor of the non-sarcastic variety – it was a little perplexing. She wasn't sure she would be able to stand more surprises tonight, unless they were pleasant.

"We have to call the police."

"The police?" she hadn't seen that one coming. She had thought he would complain about her not kissing him back.

"Come on, Nat. The bloke's calling you all the time and sending you flowers and now he turns up on your doorstep uninvited? That's called harassment and it's punishable by law."

"I don't know," she looked down at the floor. "He's my ex-husband after all."

"Yeah, but that can't possibly mean he's allowed to treat you like that." There was a stern look on his face now and she nodded her consent. "You told him to leave you alone." He pointed at his own chest. "I told him to leave you alone. And big surprise there... He just wouldn't listen. He's just dense like that. I know blokes like him. He'll keep coming and coming and coming. And next time he'll turns up, I promise you, I won't stay in the car. So the math you have to do here is pretty simple. Either you call the cops now or I'll end up being charged with assault eventually... Doesn't sound like there's a bright future ahead of us if you ask me."

"Stuart..." she tried to plead with him. Of course he had a point, but she didn't want to see it yet.

"Oh, don't give me none of that "Stuart" crap, luv. You know I'm right, you just don't want to admit it to yourself."

Her head sank to her chest. "All right. I'll call the cops first thing tomorrow." When had her life started being so bizarre, she actually uttered sentences like this? She desperately tried not to correlate the more frequent occurrence of those strange events with the time she first met Stuart.

He shook his head. It was not in order to plead his innocence. No, he wanted her to take action right away, in spite of how tired and worn out she felt. "No, right now. Because knowing that prick, he's thinking about pressing charges against you for assault already. We have to nip this in the bud before it comes back to bite us."

It had sounded simple. Call the cops, report Tony. Nothing was ever that simple.

They ended up having to drive to the police precinct in downtown Tampa to do that. Describing and repeating the happenings of tonight was an arduous and time consuming process. It was 1 am by the time they got in the car to drive back to her house. The ride there was spent in silence. He drove and she sat next to him, her head leaned against the cool windowpane. When they arrived at her house and he had parked the car, he touched her leg. She turned her head and was met by his face that was uncharacteristically displaying a crooked smile.

She reached out her hand and patted his scruffy cheek, which brought out his smile more.

"You look sleepy," he stated the obvious.

"I am," she yawned.

"I hope you don't expect me to carry you in. Won't happen, no matter how tired you are," his gruff words cut right through her mellowness. How he managed to still be that ill humored when his facial features were relaxed like that and his voice was sort of low and affectionate was beyond her. It probably was some innate, inexplicable talent.

"I think I'll still manage to walk on my own two feet just fine. Thank you," she told him, retracting her hand.

"Fine," he got out. Standing between the car and the door he stopped and turned around to look at her over the roof of the car. She was on the opposite side of it. The vehicle between them created a certain distance.

"I'm proud of you, you know," he said and after a split second he turned and closed the door as if nothing had actually happened.

His words kept echoing in the back of her mind right up until they stood inside her living room. Her mind had just now worked through the events of tonight and she had come to the conclusion that there was no way she would let him leave here tonight. She needed him close. After everything that had happened, there was so much left unsaid between them that needed to be said. There was for one thing the fact that she was very grateful for his presence by her side all night. He hadn't said much, but him simply being there had been a source of strength and encouragement. And sometimes being able to hold someone's hand in a difficult moment was all it took to make a difference. She would have liked to tell him that. Maybe not tonight, he didn't seem to be in the right mood for that, but first thing tomorrow morning.

"Please, stay with me tonight," she said and could see how her request surprised him momentarily. "Just to sleep. I don't want you to go just yet. You'll be gone again soon enough and heaven knows for how long."

She knew she was asking a lot of him. He wasn't the type to lie down with someone and hold them in his arms until they fell asleep. At least he didn't seem the type to her.

He sighed tiredly. "All right."

His 'all right' soon got them inside her bedroom. She disappeared into the bathroom and changed into her pajama, some nondescript gray jersey shorts and a blue camisole. When she came back, he was shirtless and already underneath the covers.

She slipped underneath them too and to her surprise he immediately pulled her towards him. But she wasn't content with spooning. She needed to see his face, so she wiggled around in his arms until she could look at him properly. "Hi," she said unintelligently and smiled at him.

He didn't reciprocate her whispered 'hi', but stared at her in the semidarkness for a second or two, his eyes glinting momentarily as he moved a little. His hand came up to cup her cheek and she sighed at his touch, which made the left corner of his mouth curve upwards in a crooked smile. He traced his thumb over her bottom lip and she slightly opened her mouth. Her lips closed around his fingertip. Her tongue touched his skin for a second. His brows drew up and his gaze grew heated. Her heart was beating fast inside her chest when he leaned closer. One of his hands was now resting between her shoulder blades. It felt warm and rough on her naked skin and pulled her towards him inch by inch. Their breaths mingled, their lips touched. The kiss they shared was slow and languid. She couldn't help herself. She wanted more. She hummed against his lips when his arms squeezed her a little more tightly and she felt his body pressing against hers.

One of her legs was already draped across his hip. Underneath the blanket his hand slowly travelled up from her knee to her thigh. His touch made her breathless and she shivered slightly. Their lips had never separated from each other. It was all just a seamless, very thorough kiss that increased in intensity like a musical piece nearing its finale.

He was driving her crazy, making her feel like a teenager again. Back then everything about love had been so dramatic and intense and this was intense too, because they had gone about it with the swiftness of a Victorian couple, but she was very much a modern woman. She wanted him so much her whole body seemed to cry out for him. She tugged a little at his hair as she opened her mouth to him, wanting to deepen the kiss. When he granted her that wish, the most exquisite sound left her lips. A sound deep from the back of her throat. It was somehow meant to express her approval of the way he kissed and touch her. Paradoxically, however, she was also frustrated at the same time because there was almost no possible way she could be closer to him like this. The only barrier between them now, was a bit of underwear and a pajama and that already seemed to be too much.

He rolled on his back, bringing her on top of him. The shift in positions let her break the kiss and look at him in surprise. Her long hair got in the way and cast shadows upon his face. She pulled it back to look at him properly. He smirked and that simple facial expression was enough to drive home the realization that she needed to feel his lips on hers again. And by needed she didn't mean 'need' as in something casual. No the word 'need' had become a desperate imperative.

They started kissing again and his hands dove underneath her camisole. They glided up her sides, slowly pushing up the fabric of the top in the process. They broke the kiss long enough for him to be able to cast that top aside with almost disdain. Then she was exposed to him for the first time and there was no way out. His eyes got the chance to travel over her slender, yet very womanly body. She always had thought her hips to be a little too round, her tummy not quite as toned and flat as it should be, all right, not toned at all, she didn't have that much time to work out and her breasts, well, she thought they were sort of okay.

He seemed to think so too because in the next couple of minutes he paid a lot of attention to each of them. So much indeed that she soon squirmed against his body which made him gasp in return because without paying much thought to it she had rocked her hips against his. They started kissing again, but now with added ardor. She realized too late it was his way of distracting her, because next thing she knew they were both naked underneath the covers. It wasn't like she disapproved, but she would have liked to be a more active and appreciative participant in that process. She had hardly seen anything.

He laid her down on the bed and leaned above her, his lower body not yet coming anywhere near hers, although at this point she wished it did. He stroked her thighs and her tummy and soon his intentions became quite clear to her. It was obvious how he was still avoiding touching the area that was in-between her thighs. He was slowly preparing her for what was to come, almost like he was circling his prey and building up the anticipation.

Right now his fingers were ghosting over the outline of her tattoo. The relatively fresh ink stood out dark and black against her pale skin. "Still rather spiffy," he said casually as if they both weren't naked and minutes away from having sex.

She was stupid enough to let the casualness of his tone fool her. She even drew a breath to answer him, but she never got as far because next he pressed his lips to her tattoo. Her focus was instantly on the feeling of his mouth against her skin and kept her from forming coherent sentences. But inevitably that focus shifted when his fingers finally moved downwards to explore the territory he had so far neglected. She tensed. Her hand flew to his forearm and he immediately stopped moving his hand.

"What?" he asked simply. His voice was not harsh and the way he looked at her expectantly and a little worriedly made her head sink back down on the mattress.

"Nothing," she sad softly and let her fingers trace over his arm in reassurance. "You just surprised me, that's all."

He leaned over her and closer to her face, as if looking at her like this would help him to better assess the situation. "Are you sure that's all that was?"

"Yes," her hand came up to caress the side of his face, which encouraged him to close the distance between them with a kiss. She teasingly let her teeth graze over his bottom lip, which made him hum and squeeze her thigh in approval. His tongue slipped past her lips and thanks to her reassurance his hand now continued his journey. It finally reached its destination. Her eyes flew open and she let out a tiny gasp.

He pulled back and grinned. She squinted in surprise. That grin was not laced with irony or sarcasm for once. She had not seen that look on him before. She wanted to commit it to memory, but then his fingertips continued exploring and found a rather sensitive spot and all her thoughts were whisked away. She arched backwards. Her eyes fell shut. A long-drawn sigh escaped her mouth. He seemed to like that response of hers because he rewarded her by leaving a trail of kisses on her neck, his beard brushing softly over her skin, while his fingers continued to work their magic.

She let herself fall and enjoy the moment, but however much she enjoyed it, her own desire to touch him increased with every second. What he did to her was amazing, but what did she do to him apart from lying there and expressing her appreciation? She didn't want to remain passive any longer. The anticipation was eating her up. She was curious to see whether she could give him pleasure the same way he could. She wanted him to be with her in this in every way. And right now she was very, very, very much ahead of him. That was at least what the fast beating of her heart and the rapidly building tension between her thighs told her.

She took a decision. She had to act quickly or she would be too far gone in a haze of lust and hormones to do anything. Her fingers gently wrapped around his wrist. She pulled his hand away, while she pushed him down on the mattress and she sat up. He let it happen with a somewhat awed expression on his face, which made her feel a surge of confidence.

It encouraged her to actually follow her impulse and straddle him without actually lowering her hips, which was somewhat of a torture, being this close and not being able to go through yet with what both of them wanted. But it was part of the plan. She just needed to convince him it was a good one. She tried to tell him that by smiling at him before she leaned closer and pressed a series of long and open-mouthed kisses to his neck. They were varying in intensity because she was trying to find out what he liked. She soon learned that he was more responsive to the rougher ones that included a bit of teeth than the tender ones. She filed that information away for later use as her lips travelled down to his chest. They tasted, explored and teased, while his hands moved up her thighs, stroked along her sides in an upward motion and finally settled on her back.

When she looked at his face, she saw that his eyes were closed. The fact that he was so responsive to this and apparently enjoying it made a tender feeling spread in her chest. It also served as an encouragement. Her hand that had previously rested on his pectoral muscles now traced lower and lower. Past his belly button, still further down. She wrapped her fingers around him gently, her eyes still on his face. His eyelids snapped open quickly; he sucked in a deep breath. "Natalie..." he breathed. Her full name, not some kind of abbreviation.

"Didn't expect that, did you?" she whispered to him.

"No," he was forced to short replies thanks to the present location and activity of her hand. "But it's... a very pleasant... surprise." His tone of voice aroused her. It was raw and his words were strewn in between his inhales and exhales that were slightly unsteady.

It encouraged her to go on, especially because of the blissful expression on his face. What she did to him didn't leave her unaffected either. It was strangely mutual and made her start forgetting what the point of resisting had been, though it had seemed important at first.

Still she wouldn't lower her hips, even though she felt the weight of his hand on the small of his back. She was too stubborn for that, because she wanted to draw this out and make it more pleasurable. Didn't he know the rules of the game? Explore, tease, but don't relinquish control, at least not until the right moment comes around.

Was it now? It felt like it.

She somewhat lowered her hips and let go off him. His eyes found hers. He was breathing hard, the expression on his face mesmerizing her so much that all she could do was stare at him. This was him aroused, aroused and wearing a slightly quizzical look. She chose to answer the unspoken question behind his eyes. "I'm on the pill."

The words had seemed to register because she could feel his hand helping her along as she lowered her hips that last little bit.

This was the moment before everything happened. Maybe the best part. Their bodies were touching all over, but not yet in the most intimate way possible. It only needed a slight shift of weight or maybe a helping hand, but for a moment neither of them did anything. They just looked at each other trying to catch their breaths as they figurative stood on the edge of that something more that would take things to a whole different level.

She bit her bottom lip. Anticipation was killing her. It was impossible not to want more. So she moved her hips against his and their bodies finally interlocked. It was slow and gradual and for a moment that sensation took away her breath. Initially pain and bliss intermingled, making it difficult for her to distinguish between those two, until at last bliss prevailed. She fell forward, let out a loud exhale. Her long brown hair fanned around her face. His hands were warm and reassuring on her hips.

She brushed her hair out of her face, so she could see the look on his face. His mouth was slightly agape, he was breathing faster now. His whole focus was on her and that excited her. How often did someone look at you in awe, like you were the center of their universe? Only in moments like these.

His finger on her hips squeezed her flesh and made her shiver. They hadn't even moved yet. So far nothing had happened yet. Still all of this felt amazing and let little shudders run all over her skin. She entwined her fingers with his. He squeezed them and it felt good, but it also hurt the tiniest bit because both their grip was so tight.

Gingerly she moved her hips, because she knew if she was too eager now, she could ruin this for them. Sex had merely been a fantasy for her in the last year. Of course she had had certain needs, but she had never indulged in them with another person. But this here was not just "another person" – it was him. The man she had been fantasizing doing this to for weeks now.

She had almost forgotten how good sex felt and how personal it was, because it didn't get any more personal than letting go entirely of your restraint around another person. It also occurred to her right then that you could be out of practice when it came to sex, because thanks her long dry spell, she was hypersensitive to everything he did.

He made a sound. Something like an "aaaaaah". It was low and deep and wonderful and that expression on his face so enthralling. His control was slipping and for once he could not hide behind nonchalance or rudeness. He couldn't lie to her about how much he enjoyed this. "Natalie..." he said her name and it swam on a long exhale. "Slow down," he admonished her.

He was right and so she tried to be reasonable and slow down. But being reasonable was so far from what her body dictated her to do, it was laughable. After lying to herself about not wanting him for so long, now that she was being honest with herself, there was no way she could call upon her famed self-discipline. When it came to him, she possessed none, she learned in that instant. He seemed to sense that too, because his hands on her hips eventually forced her to slow down. Unwittingly though he also pulled her more deeply into him. "Bugger!" he swore, closing his eyes in concentration and making her sigh in approval.

Through the hormone induced haze in her head she realized he wanted to be nice and make this more lasting and probably thereby more memorable for her and she couldn't help but feel honored. But no matter what he did, this would always be memorable to her. It was their first time together after all. Also, it was rather pathetic admitting it, because what they were doing at present at best qualified as a quickie, she was very close to the edge already. Her mind was still stuck on the part where this was finally really happening and the sight of him naked and underneath her was just such an incredible turn on.

"It's okay," God, her own voice sounded strange, sultry, breathy... no wonder with the way he was touching her breasts. It was really distracting her from forming coherent sentences. "You don't have to hold on... I'm close too."

She hadn't counted on what happened next. He flipped her over. Her eyes were wide open in surprise. He was staring down at her and looked like he wanted to devour her. For a moment their bodies separated and she let out a disapproving sound because she instantly felt cold. Ironically her hair got in the way again as propped herself up on her elbows to look at him, or better glare. For a second she had fantasies about chopping it off, at least until he smoothed it back and out of her face. Again their eyes met and she held his gaze. She sank back down on the mattress. Her breath quivered when he leaned over her and pushed into her agonizingly slowly and then stilled halfway. 'Do you finally understand that I'm going to make you mine?' that move seemed to say as well as the look he wore on his face.

After he had given her a moment to adjust he tried to get deeper yet and she arched up against him, wanting him closer and always more, more, more of him. He clutched at her then like he wanted to will their bodies to become one. She could feel and hear his fast breath close to her ear. She moaned loudly, before he crushed his lips to hers and silenced her.

His movements became more forceful and desperate. His forehead was leaning against hers. It created an atmosphere of intimacy like they were breathing in the same air, feeling the same.

She wanted to whisper something to him but then her inner muscles contracted and her thoughts became a jumble, consisting of very primitive sensory perceptions, like his tongue on her skin, his breath in her ear, his taste on her lips or the warm feeling of his skin underneath her fingertips.

She hooked one leg around his hips. Feeling the desperate wish to ever be closer to him, she no longer thought about whether it would hurt in the morning. She just needed more of him.

Their bodies were now sweaty, but neither of them minded. What she did mind though was that utter feeling of intense bliss that unexpectedly spread through her. She had almost forgotten how great and powerful that feeling was.

"Stuart," his name left her lips like a surprised gasp, as all her nerve ends lit up like a fuse and her whole body shivered.

His body was attuned to hers by now and responded by tensing. One of her hands was resting between his shoulder blades and she could feel his muscles under her palm contracting. Inevitably her gaze was drawn to his face. There was a look of concentration on it. His brows were drawn together and his mouth slightly agape. He made a deep, guttural sound that seemed to resonate through her body. She bit her bottom lip and arched up into him, emitting a soft whimper. He opened his eyes and the look in them made her pull him down for a greedy kiss.

The intensity of the feeling slowly receded, but they still continued kissing, only now less passionately and more lovingly. He drew back a little and looked at her with a smile on his face that was trusting and affectionate and simply wonderful.

Now would have been the time for the typical post-coital confession of love, but neither of them said anything. He only cupped her face with his hand and let his thumb brush over her lips. She slightly opened them and pressed a wet kiss against its tip, which made him laugh softly. It had all started like this after all.

Eventually and with a certain reluctance he moved off of her and let himself fall back on the mattress with a content sigh. For a while they were only lying there trying to catch their breath. Eventually he looked at her, making a gesture at her with his hand. She didn't get his meaning right away, so he pulled her to his side with a grunt.

Perhaps cuddling was in his repertoire after all. She was resting her head in the crook of his arm. Eventually, when their bodies had cooled down somewhat, he pulled the covers up to their waists, which strangely enough didn't make her feel ashamed of her partial nudity. For once she felt happy. She would even go as far as saying she was content and without a care in the world, well, except for falling asleep too soon and potentially missing out on any more of this post-coital bliss.

Eventually she sat up trying to leave bed, but his hand wrapped around her wrist. She looked at him over her shoulder. His eyes that were for once not taunting her were fixed on her expectantly. Unlike her, he was slightly tanned and somehow she only noticed now that she looked back at him spread out on her sheets. Again it occurred to her that he was quite handsome, despite the crooked nose and the big ears. But his looks were only the surface. She was learning more and more about him each day they passed together and what once had been a mixture of attraction and repulsion, was now only attraction. Her feelings for him had changed. They had gotten deeper in a way, bigger and more meaningful. She no longer saw his character as a mere agglomeration of adjectives. She saw him as just him, a wonderful but also rather contradictory individual, too complex to be described by mere words. But even though she couldn't put it into words, he had something about him that made her happy, deep down to her very core. The thought brought a smile to her face.

"Don't go," he said simply and his words and the way he was for once so open about his feelings made her smile even more and fall back into his arms if only for just a few moments.

"I can't stay in this bed forever with you, you know. There are some other basic human needs besides sex..."

"What a fancy way of saying you've got to pop to the loo," he grinned and tugged some more at her arm, so she ended up sprawled across his manly chest.

"Perhaps. But then again there's also the possibility I want to clean up. Has that ever occurred to you, huh?" she pointed out and ran her hand over his beard. She had yet to get used to its feel. Lately he was growing it out around the chin. It made him look like one of those Spartan warriors from 300. The resemblance was uncanny, especially now that he was only wrapped in her bedclothes.

"I've always been dying to ask you, but never got the chance to, where exactly is that beard project of yours going?" The words 'beard project' had him amused, she could tell because his chest was moving up and down like he was laughing and she was resting her head directly on it.

"Does the quote 'This is madness! This is Sparta!' mean anything to you?"

"Should it?" she extricated herself from his embrace, slowly and somewhat reluctantly. This time he made no sound of protest. She shot him a look. "Well, I'm off the bathroom, my Leonidas."

"And I'll be here... my queen." He smirked and crossed his arms behind his head, obviously getting comfortable. Did he know that move brought out the muscles in his torso even more? He looked like an ad for an expensive perfume for men.

She got up very, very reluctantly and became immediately aware of her own nudity thanks to the way he so unashamedly stared at her backside, which immediately motivated her to start picking up her clothes from the floor. Concerns about cellulite and not being as sporty as he was used to were instantly occupying her mind.

"Don't even think about that," he admonished her like she had wanted to do something appalling. "No clothes."

"No clothes?" she frowned. "You won't even be awake when I get back in five minutes."

"Here's saying I will be and most eagerly awaiting your return," he told her, waggling his brows at her.

"That sounds creepy and like I don't want to come back after all," she joked.

"Really?" he gave her a long hard look.

"No," she licked her lips, hesitating actually to reveal the depths of her feelings to him, but deciding for it eventually. They had just slept with each other after all. "To be honest, I don't even know how I'm going to survive the next couple of days without you." And having said something so emotional she quickly whisked out of the door out of fear of being ridiculed by him.

When she came back shortly after, she found him, true to his word, fully awake and eager to hold her in his arms again. He pulled her into him just as soon as she was back in bed again and covered both of them with the blanket. His arms around her, his warm, naked body next to hers and the soft blankets surrounding them, now that would be her new definition of heaven on earth. The old one had been something boring like being curled up in front of the TV with a cup of coffee and just couldn't measure up to this. Apparently he too found this to be extremely pleasant, because he made a sound of contentment and she couldn't help but silently agree with him in her thoughts. Just after she had drifted off to sleep, he pressed a lasting kiss to her temple. "If it's any consolation to you, sweetness, I'm not sure either how I'll manage without you," he said.