A/N: Been flushing out the final plot lines. It won't be too much longer now, maybe 5 chapters or so. Thank you all for coming with me this far. :)
STARDATE 2260.159
Beta Quadrant
Azeta Prime
"70 credits?!" Amelia scowled, not because she felt like she was being cheated, but rather because she had no idea if she was being cheated. A single bill from her time period had sold for just 300 credits. Wasn't that a collector's item?
The alien in front of her only nodded, the eye in his forehead squinting in impatience. Or it seemed like impatience. It was hard to tell with the way his other two eyes were focused in different directions. At her back, McCoy finally spoke up. "Come on. It's a cheap holograph box. It's worth 40 at most."
The item in question didn't appear to be cheap, though Amelia took McCoy's words at face value, trusting his judgment. She picked up the small box once more, the glass screen so clear it would have been hard to believe that it even existed if her hand wasn't pressed against it. In the center a flower bloomed, slowly shifting into a new color while the petals extended and changed shape.
Within moments a new flower had taken place of the old one.
Amelia made a point to appear disinterested as she set the box back on the vendor's table. McCoy's hand landed on her shoulder as she turned away, his touch just firm enough to keep her from going back. That and his added whisper, "Four, three, two-"
The alien behind her sighed. "Very well. 50 credits."
A slow victorious grin spread on her face and when she cast a glance up at McCoy, she saw that same expression mirrored on his own. They made a good team as hagglers. As she completed the transaction, her partner wandered to the next tent, his eyes scanning the merchandise laid upon tables.
Azeta Prime's capital city reminded her of one large flea market. Apparently, in celebration of a national festival, it was common for business to gather along the sidewalks just before a night of parades and fireworks.
They had picked an exciting time for shore leave.
The main streets were flooded with vendors and tents, each displaying their own unique cultures. There were vendors who specialized in fabrics, from silk to cotton-like materials. There were vendors who specialized in elaborate display knives and swords. Then there were vendors like the one she'd just dealt with who pawned little techno-trinkets.
One of her first purchases had been an addition to her limited wardrobe. It had been well worth the 80 credits, the soft fabric gentle against her skin. When McCoy had caught up with her after handling some business with Jim, he'd taken in the sleeveless black blouse and loose fitted black trousers with a slow approving smile.
"Gorgeous," He had told her, then he'd taken her hand. She'd thought the same thing of him in his brown short sleeve button up and cargo pants, looking a little less professional and more roguish.
Amelia shoved the holograph box in her backpack and made her way over to McCoy. He was standing in front of a table of small porcelain animals, his eyes scanning the assortment. "What'cha looking for?"
"Something for Joanna. Might not be able to be there for her, but I can try and bring something back." Amelia cocked her head. He didn't mention his daughter very often, the subject an obvious sore spot. It was spoken of as often as her own parents. Sure, they had glossed over their pasts, but the specifics rarely entered into the conversation. Parents and siblings and, in his case, a child and an ex-wife.
He was in his late thirties, so the fact that he'd been married once before wasn't a deal breaker. In fact, she felt that it made him complete. He knew what he would get into with a long-term relationship. He knew what the risks could possibly be.
Amelia turned back to the table and as she looked at the fragile menagerie she realized that such pieces could have been found in her room as a little girl.
Tiny horse-like animals. Miniature cats. At her side, McCoy picked up a piece from the center his hands cradling it with care. Upon closer inspection, Amelia could see that it was a bear of some kind. It's back was slightly hunched, it's mouth opened in a snarl. It looked vicious and exciting and McCoy seemed to recognize it.
Catching her confused look, he held it out to her. "It's a sehlat."
"What's a sehlat?"
Her hands traced the ridged back of the figurine as he explained, "It's an animal from the planet Vulcan. Right now there is a conversation effort in San Fransisco dedicated to rebuilding their population. Last I heard they hadn't been able to breed them. If they can't find a way then in less than a decade this might be an extinct species."
Amelia frowned and handed it back. "That's kind of sad." And it was. Spock had spoke briefly of the destruction of his home planet, another history lesson. Despite the fact that he was Vulcan and had such a grip on his emotions, she had almost felt his sorrow.
An entire planet just... gone.
McCoy's words drew her from the depressing though. "Yeah. It is. But Joanna wrote a paper on them for school so I think she'll like it." Then he paid for the porcelain sehlat and they started off towards the main road.
His arm fell across her shoulders as they walked, a touch possessive and a touch protective. When they encountered a new alien race, McCoy was quick to educate her. A grin formed when she realized he was doing it in an effort to showcase his knowledge. A subconscious boast...
Her eyes caught a fruit stand, her hand tugging at McCoy's arm to guide him that direction. He cut short his description of the unique Denobulan physiology and followed after her. Amelia picked up the first fruit within reach, bringing it up to her nose for a quick sniff.
It smelled like a peach, though it looked anything but with it's thick blue peel. She gave it a gentle squeeze, surprised to find it soft. From the corner of her eye she saw McCoy pointing at it. "Gotta be careful with that."
"Oh," Amelia raised a brow and set the fruit back down. "What is it?"
"Looks like a Sahara plum."
"Why's it called that? Does it grow in the Sahara?" Not long after the words escaped her did she realize how ridiculous the question was. They were light years from the Sahara.
But he didn't call her out on it. Instead he said, "No. Makes you feel like you're standing in it. Heats you up like you wouldn't believe." He plucked a different fruit from a basket, handing it to her for inspection. "Now this... this is an interesting one."
It looked more like an orange and she was surprised when it smelled like on too. "Yeah? What does it do?"
"Makes you amorous. Excited." His voice dropped as he stared at her. "Aroused. They're sold for quite a bit on Earth, being such a sought after import."
The stand's vendor approached and Amelia gave herself a mental pat on the back that she didn't flinch at the strange bumps that ran across his neck and chin. He pointed to the fruit in McCoy's hand and nodded. "Yula fruit. Good for first dates."
The insulted look that McCoy shot the vendor's way was hard to miss. "I think I can get this one on my own, buddy." Amelia hid her grin that formed at his confidence.
"What's the point of exploring alien planets if you can't get a deal on exotic fruits?" She tapped his side with her elbow. "We should try it."
"Honey, you eat that and you'll be trying new things all night long. And probably the next day, too." She flushed at that, setting the yula fruit back in the basket. He was right about one thing. He could get her all on his own.
Amelia adjusted the backpack on her shoulders as McCoy finished another purchase. When he joined her in the street, his hand found hers almost instantly. It wasn't entirely done out of affection, a crowd forming at the far end of the road. A parade was supposed to be en-route and the way he clasped her hand in his own was an effort to tether her as they navigated the crowd.
At one point he had released her, a member of the crowd breaking through their grip like they were in a game of red rover. But a second later, his other hand came around to clasp her upper arm.
He pulled her tight against him, simply standing the street as strangers rushed around them. A palm landed on her lower back, drawing her closer still. It reminded her of that time on the lake, when he'd saved her from falling.
She wasn't the only one who seemed to recall the experience either. McCoy's breathing was rapid against her ear, his hand dropping lower still to cup her backside in a mimic of when he'd caught her. It wasn't as though anyone would notice, the swarm around them too focused on the activity in the center of the road.
She drew back when the crowd began to thin out, her gaze drifting up to focus on McCoy's face. The intensity in his hazel eyes caused heat to blossom in her face. It was easy to feel wanted when he looked at her that way.
It was easy to want him back.
They had come quite a ways since the first time they'd met. His accusation of her being a biological hazard came to mind and her mouth tilted at the corner. For a biological hazard he was certainly holding her close...
"What is it about you?" His words were soft and slow and even a touch confused.
As confused as her own when she asked, "What do you mean?"
"You draw everyone to you. God, even Spock can't say a critical thing about you." A thumb brushed the corner of her mouth.
"That's funny. I used to spend so much time keeping everyone away. Before Starfleet I only had a couple of friends. Now I have more than I can count and... and I have you." And she did have him.
McCoy had drawn her in as well with his own form of tenderness. She had seen the worst and best of him. She'd been at the brunt end of his anger and at the brunt end of his passion. Slowly, she raised a hand to his cheek. "Maybe I'm just making up for lost time."
"I know the feeling." Then he leaned in, uncaring of the crowd around them. His lips brushed hers, sweet and, eventually, thorough. He'd kissed her just a handful of times and every time it was different. First in apology, second in desperation, and third in desire.
Every time was unique, much like the moments that defined their relationship.
Someone bumped into her shoulder, and they broke apart, their bodies drifting away from each other. The moment passed and his hands fell away from her. With a heavy sigh, he muttered, "Guess it's time to meet up with the others."
The others. Scotty had been bragging about the nightlife on Azeta Prime, arranging a gathering at one of the popular 'pubs'. She wasn't sure what time it was, but the sun was setting in the distance which meant that night wasn't far off.
McCoy's fingers once again found her own, a gentle tug pulling her towards the direction of the bar. As people with casual wear were heading towards the parade, more with exotic clothing was filtering into a tall building.
A sign hung just above the door, neon characters standing out against the white brick. She didn't know what it meant, the alien language as foreign as Hebrew. McCoy didn't seem confused by it, giving a nod as he read the glowing words. "This is it."
He guided her inside and almost instantly Amelia was assaulted with the steady thrum of loud music. The man at her side didn't look pleased either, his narrowed eyes scanning the crowd for Scotty. Amelia spotted him first, red hair and a white face standing out in the midst of alien patrons.
As they headed further into the pub, Amelia noticed that the inside of the room was quieter than the outskirts, perhaps in an effort to draw in crowds from outside. Whatever the reason, she was grateful that her ears got a reprieve.
While she found a table, McCoy headed for the bar. Scotty saw her as she took a seat, sending her a wave. A haphazard wave that almost struck the red-skinned woman hanging on his arm. Just after his brief acknowledgment of Amelia, Scotty turned back around to a small gaggle of women, his loud voice carrying across the room, "Aye, Lass. It'sa 'ummincat-or. Lemme call mah ship. Beam us right up! Who else want'sa tour?"
"Dear God," McCoy exclaimed, a drink in each hand as he approached their table, "he's drunk already!"
Amelia laughed. "You can take the man out of Scotland, but you can't take Scotland out of the man." Turning away from Scotty, Amelia faced McCoy and took the drink offered her way. "Thanks." It was sweet, but still carried with it a sharp alcoholic taste that burned on the way down.
Over her glass, she kept her gaze on McCoy who steadily sipped what looked like a beer. He seemed more relaxed now, his gaze slowly scanning the crowd, then her, then back on the crowd. She wasn't sure who else Scotty had invited, but considering how few people she actually associated with aboard the Enterprise there was a high chance that she wouldn't know them.
Spock and Kirk were still on board the ship. Th'eon couldn't travel just yet due to his injury. And she was pretty sure Mark was in a different social circle.
Surprisingly, the first person to walk their way was indeed a familiar face. Her dark skin was sprinkled with some kind of glitter, her hair high on top her head. Amelia recalled meeting her in the turbolift her very first day on the Enterprise.
She greeted McCoy first with a wide smile and a wave. "Doctor McCoy!"
"Lieutenant Uhura." He nodded and held up his glass. Uhura's head tilted, her gaze drifting from McCoy to Amelia. The smile on her face seemed to warm.
"And you brought our resident horticulturist." Uhura shot Amelia a wink, sending a subtle signal of approval. "Good to see you again Amelia."
"You too." Amelia raised her glass just as McCoy had done, earning her a quick tap of Uhura's glass.
"Seeing as you and I are the only ladies-" Breaking off mid sentence, Uhura plucked the glass from Amelia's hand and set it on the table along with her own, "-we should find ourselves some handsome and exotic men to entice." Though Amelia didn't know the woman well, she was beginning to see Uhura had spunk.
Spunk that McCoy didn't seem to appreciate. His responding grumble was a quick, "Aren't you seeing Spock?"
Uhura didn't waiver, her grin as wide as ever. It was a shame Amelia hadn't spent time with the woman before now, her like for the woman increasing by the moment. "It's only a dance."
Just a dance? Amelia tilted her head, catching McCoy's gaze. The possessive glare hidden within sparked her own independence. It was, after all, just a dance. And later they would have all night to themselves. Wasn't she supposed to be taking steps forward? Experiencing new things?
She found herself giving Uhura a hasty nod as she rose from her seat. "Why not?"
"You girls have fun." His words might have said one thing, but the look McCoy was shooting at Uhura said another entirely. Amelia grinned at his attempt to temper that jealous nature.
She dropped her lips to McCoy's cheek, whispering, "I'll be back soon."
STARDATE 2260.159
Beta Quadrant
Azeta Prime
I'll be back soon. McCoy sipped on his second beer, wondering just what Amelia's definition of soon was. It certainly wasn't a few minutes. It certainly wasn't ten. From across the room he watched as she danced with Uhura, the two rotating out partners throughout songs. Partners that included young native Azetian males just primed for a good time.
He knew he could step in at any time, but aside from the jealousy he felt at watching her with other men, he felt the stir of something else. Amelia's skin was glistening with thin sheen of sweat, her neck and face flushed from exertion. The thin material of her shirt clung to her like a second skin. Watching her like this was almost as exciting as watching her bathe in the lake, a memory that had already intruded earlier in the day.
Though they hadn't expressly stated what later would entail, he knew it would end with her in his room at the resort. Why not let her go? Especially when she looked so damn beautiful in the distance. The conversation they had shared in the midst of the parade came back to him and his own face flushed. Not only did she wreck havoc on his control, she always drew out the sap in him. The man that wanted to express exactly what was on his mind. Of course that also bit him in the ass on occasion.
His voyeurism of Amelia was interrupted by an abrupt slap on the back. Hard enough to shake him in his chair, but not hard enough to injure. Before he even turned, he knew it had been Montgomery Scott, the strong accent coming a moment later. "She's a keeper, that one."
McCoy didn't even pretend to not catch his meaning, his eyes darting between Scotty and Amelia. The scowl on his face faded as he watched her. "Yeah. She is."
Behind him, Scotty took a seat in an empty stool at the table. "Guess you two got o'er your row."
Sending a sharp look his way, McCoy asked, "What?"
"Row. Fight. Lover's quarrel."
McCoy's brow furrowed at the clarification. "Don't tell me she talks to you about us."
"Aye, that she does. All the time." Scotty's voice raised in pitch, a mock of a female's voice, "Oh Scotty, Leonard has such an amazing body. 'Oh Scotty, Leonard is such an ass. Oh Scotty, but the sex is just amazing.' All the time, Leonard this, Leonard that. To be honest, I'm real sick of it."
The Scotsman's mouth was quirked upwards in a comical grin, exaggerated slightly by his drunken state. For a brief second McCoy had actually believe him until Scotty had chosen to use his first name. Amelia had never once called him Leonard...
In the midst of McCoy's stunned silence, Scotty laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, confessing, "Don't be daft, McCoy. I just know 'er. That's all. She'd never kiss 'n tell."
McCoy just snorted and took a long swig of his beer before saying, "You're real funny, Scott."
"Had my eye on her meself you know." He hadn't been the only one. McCoy recalled Jim's feeble attempt at flirting. "But.. I think she was just waiting for-"
"I said. Back. Off!" The voice across the room reached his ears, not because it was loud, but because he was so in tune with it. McCoy jumped to his feet, Scotty right behind him. His eyes sought her out on the dance floor.
The sight before him sent a thrum of concern straight through him. Amelia was squared off, facing one of her earlier dance partners, a good 30 centimeters of height difference between the two. The taller male also had at least a hundred pounds on her.
But she held her ground, her palm flat against the man's chest to keep distance them. Behind her stood Uhura, looking startled, but not frightened. Though McCoy was well aware that Uhura was combat proficient, he still felt the need to intervene.
Before he took a step their way, the man moved closer to Amelia. It was apparently the wrong direction. Her other palm came up, a quick strike delivered straight to the man's sternum. The Azetian stumbled back in surprise, just before his eyes narrowed in anger.
The drunk Scotsman at McCoy's back barked out, "Spock taught her that one."
McCoy ground his teeth together as his feet finally caught up with his fury. All this empowering should have come with warnings attached. Like the fact that an Azetian's sternum was a damn recharge button. With less than ten strides he made himself a buffer, positioned firmly between Amelia and the Azetian male.
"She told you to back off!" Someone tugged at his arm, but McCoy didn't dare take his eyes off the alien in front of him. If he had, he might have missed the sudden tensing in the man's shoulder and he just might have ended up with a dislocated jaw when the Azetian swung his fist at his face.
Instead, he jerked back, catching a mild blow against his cheek.
He knew that the skin hadn't broken, but by the end of the night he was sure to be sporting a bruise. McCoy's mind raced, thoughts of how this could have happened had he not intervened. Thoughts of how his actions were a reflection of Starfleet. But most of all... thoughts of what he'd read in medical journals.
Azetian nervous system has three major weak points. Primarily the Sympathetic Nerve. Impact causes cramping in knee and elbow joints. Location...Collar bone. Right side. His train of thought came to a sudden jarring stop in an instant.
"McCoy!" Someone was shouting at him, tugging at his shoulders. His back hurt, a pain he was forced to experience as he came to his senses. How had he ended up on the floor? Dizziness followed and he touched a hand to his brow, his fingers coming away slick with blood.
He might have avoided the brunt of the first punch, but he sure as hell hadn't avoided the second. Confusion gave way to anger as Scotty called out, "Get off the lass, ya brute!"
The sound of flesh hitting flesh startled him into standing, but through cloudy vision he could barely make out the chaos around him. It was an all out brawl, complete with the occasional chair flying across the room.
The Azetian male was being pulled off of Amelia with the help of Scotty. Uhura was tugging the hair of some new woman trying to get a few hits in. McCoy wasn't sure who to help, his eyes darting between the sparring pairs.
A hard hit at his back had him stumbling forward, his gaze torn from Amelia to the person who'd just slammed into him. Or two people. A human and an Orion rolled on the floor, fists flying as they wrestled.
A hand clasped against his arm and he clenched his fist, prepared to strike. A flash of blond brought that instinct to a standstill, Amelia's wide eyes surveying the damage around them. "Guess we won't get a dance, will we?"
Stunned, he shouted the first thing that came to mind. "You started a bar fight!"
"Me? You're the one stepping in. I had it under control." Under control? He gave her an incredulous glare.
"Does this look under control to you?!" He waved his hands around him, but before he could point out one thing in particular, his gaze drifted past Amelia to see a man rushing their direction. "Lookout!"
She dove out of the way, taking him down with her. Automatically, his arm wrapped around her to keep her from hitting the floor. Not that it did much good, her momentum pulling him on top of her. Against his chest he could feel her shaking, causing him to go stiff in concern. That is until he lifted himself up and found that she was shaking with laughter. "You know, McCoy... there are much easier ways of getting me under you."
"Ha!" His bark only resulted in an amused smile. "You think this was easy? You're the most difficult person I've ever met."
"Well, you know what they say. Takes one to know one." Before he could retort, he saw two pairs of legs approaching, the attached bodies too engaged in combat to notice McCoy and Amelia on the floor. He gripped her arm and rolled to his back, taking her with him to avoid getting trampled. Just as soon as they were out of the danger zone, hands began pulling them from the floor.
Scotty and Uhura. The two looked a little worse for wear, Scotty was already sporting a black eye and Uhura's hair more than frazzled. McCoy could only imagine how he looked, clothes filthy and his face splotched with bruises.
But Amelia... she didn't have a scratch on her. Sure, her clothes were a little torn and just as dirty as his own, but her exposed skin was unmarred. When her bright blue eyes met his, he heard the words she never had to voice.
Let's get the hell out of here.
Within seconds he had his bag slung over his shoulder and Amelia's hand clenched in his own as they stumbled out of the pub. Scotty and Uhura weren't too far behind, drunken laughter reaching his ears. Without the music and the strobe lights, he found his headache starting to fade.
At least until the fireworks began...
Upon the first colorful explosion, Amelia sighed, Uhura gasped, Scotty whistled, and McCoy groaned.
STARDATE 2260.159
Beta Quadrant
Azeta Prime
Amelia had never once imagined this was how her trip to Azeta Prime would go. Sure, the shopping had all been part of the mental image and she had been more than ecstatic to share that experience with McCoy, but what happened afterwards...
She probably should have never hit that man, but she'd been far too angry to stop herself. And instead of taking the cautious approach, she made use of the defensive moves Spock had shown her no less than two weeks prior. Defensive moves that McCoy explained were practically useless against the male she'd faced.
With each step, they left the pub far behind them along with the adrenaline that had been coursing during the tumble. Then the fireworks started and Amelia found herself coming to a stop to stare up at the burning light.
She probably would have stayed there for the entire show, had she not noticed McCoy flinch at the booming noise. Perhaps it was time to retire for the night. She squeezed the hand that gently clasped her own, shooting him a small smile when he turned her way.
Together, they started off towards the resort, leaving Scotty and Uhura behind. Amelia was sure they would see them again the next day, so she kept her farewell short. The rest of their walk was fairly quiet, save for the occasional firework in the distance.
When she followed him down the hallway leading to his room, he didn't question it. And when she stepped into the room after him and dropped her bag on the floor, the only thing he did was smile. A smile that she returned until the lights were on.
Her smile shifted into a shocked open gawk. "Oh my god, your face!" In the brighter lighting of the room she could see that his entire left cheek was covered in purple. On the other side was a cut that ran across his brow, but to her relief it was no longer bleeding.
"Just what every man wants to hear." McCoy muttered, a weary smile on his face. Though he didn't look insulted, she knew that she'd chosen her words poorly.
"No. No. I mean... let me take care of that. I've got some Neosporin." Amelia was already rifling through her backpack, pulling out the small first-aid kit from the bottom.
As her back, McCoy asked. "Neosporin?"
"Triple-Antibiotic." She paused, wondering if they still used stuff like Neosporin. Of course they do. Not everyone has fancy medical devices at home. "Unless you have a dermal regenerator around."
He scoffed, "The one time I need it..."
Palming the antibiotic, a wet wipe, and a band-aid, she turned her attention back to McCoy, waving a hand at his brown shirt. "You should take your shirt off so I can check you over."
Amused, he responded, "I thought I was the doctor in this relationship."
"Not tonight. Unlike you, I'm injury free. Now off with the shirt."
"Yes, Ma'am." He hesitated before reaching down to grasp the hem of his shirt, watching Amelia intently before tugging it free from his jeans. With the slow exposure of bare flesh, Amelia felt her mouth watering. She wasn't sure how long she stood there just looking at him, but it was long enough for him to feel the need to speak, his voice husky and low, "You keep staring at me like that and this examination is going to get cut short."
"Guess I better get to it then." She started with the cut on his eye, her hands only a touch shaky as she ripped open the wet wipe. Carefully, she turned his head cleaning the dried blood that had caked on the side of his face. When it was gone, she placed a small drop of Neosporin ointment on the band-aid and set it gently across his brow. Even the 'Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle' decal on the band-aid didn't detract from his manly features.
And very much a man he was. As her eyes wandered, so did her hands. Her fingertips slid down the side of his face, tracing the curve of his jaw. She heard his breath catch, but he made no movements toward her. Her palms crossed over his broad shoulders, her gaze so focused that she could see the flex of muscles as she stimulated the nerves.
There was a bruise on his side, almost as large as a softball, and she kept her hands clear of it, unwilling to cause him pain.
Because McCoy had suffered enough. Amelia had spent her entire adult life learning how to nurture and even though she'd applied that knowledge only to plants, she wondered if it was merely training for this point. If every time she had failed it had prepared her for this one success.
In that moment, where her hand slid back around to rest on his chest, she wondered if every tribulation she had faced had made her strong enough to survive loving McCoy.
Mindlessly, her fingers trailed across his chest, brushing over cinnamon colored peaks. A groan escaped him, breaking the prolonged silence as his larger hand covered hers to still it against his chest. His other hand caught her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his own.
In a simultaneous rush of motion, they gravitated towards one another, lips meeting in mutual want. Amelia gasped against his mouth as his hands began their own investigation, palms sliding down her sides towards her backside that he so often fondled.
The firm touch sent ripples of anticipation through her, tiny quakes running down her spine. It was hard enough to focus, his mouth trailing away from her own and down her neck. The dual assault pulled a whimper from her.
At the sound, McCoy pulled away and gripped her hips, guiding her backwards towards the bed. Her knees hit the mattress and she fell back. They weren't separated for long, McCoy quickly climbing above her, his weight supported on his hands and knees.
He stared down at her, his eyes hooded as he silently asked for permission. The only response she gave him was to reach down to the hem of her shirt and pull it up over her head. Cool air flowed over her, but she made no move to cover herself.
There was no need to be shy. No fear of his reaction. Because Amelia was well aware that he desired her.
Before her shirt hit the floor, his hands were on her. His touch started at her throat, his fingertips grazing that sensitive spot that always pulled a reaction from her. A smile filtered across his face when she let out a gasp of pleasure. Though the sound was nothing compared to the raspy moan that tore from her throat when his mouth latched onto her breast.
His age showed through as he put experience to work, playing her body like a musical instrument. His touch was firm when needed, gentle when desired. He coaxed her until all she wanted was the feel of his flesh against her own.
Unwilling to endure further torture, Amelia trailed her hands down his chest until they reached the button on his pants. Another low groan of anticipation escaped him as she fumbled with the snap, her fingers sliding across sensitive skin.
As soon as the sound of success echoed through the room, his hands left her to finish the task. While McCoy pushed the material down his legs, she worked on her own bottoms and within moments they were both naked and flush against one another.
Amelia arched against him, her eyes drifting closed in pleasure at the simple feel of him against. Warm and hard and velvety. His breath was hot against her ear, his breathing rapid. Slowly, he shifted, his sex pressing against her own.
His hand fell to her thigh to slide it higher on his hip, preparing her, opening her. Once more, he pulled back to meet her gaze, that request for permission ever present.
Her whisper came quick, "I need you."
McCoy's mouth met her own, swallowing her cry as he drove forward, filling her. The dam of silence broke, his words raspy and broken as he moved against her. Within her. Words of adoration and affection mumbled against her skin.
She rocked with him, each thrust taking her just a little higher, the pressure low in her core building. It was reminiscent of their shared experience in his office, blind need driving them towards satisfaction.
"So... good." He groaned against her neck, his teeth catching the skin lightly. Reflexively, she clenched around him at the rush of pleasure. Through her haze she knew he'd felt it, another word brushing across her flesh. "Amelia."
Eventually, the words stopped, gasps and moans taking their place. Her knees rose higher, bringing him deeper. His pace increased, each thrust harder than the last. Her breath caught in her throat when he caught her ear in his teeth, giving it a gentle tug while his fingers did the same with the peak of her chest.
The response was instantaneous, pleasure ripping down her spine, her back arching with the intensity. This time he didn't capture her cry, her moan echoing through the room. His pace turned erratic, his hand gripping her hip to take over the pace and position.
McCoy followed within seconds, a low groan vibrating her neck as he pushed hard against her, every muscle within reach tensed.
Coming down from her haze, she began to hear his heavy breathing, his forehead braced against her shoulder. Tilting her head, she placed her lips against the cut on his brow.
When he finally caught his breath, he rolled onto his back, tugging her along with him. Satisfied. Content. There was really no accurate word for how she felt as she stretched out against McCoy's side.
All she knew for certain was that it felt like home.