He reluctantly lets her go so he can turn on the lamp, smiling at her as she stands at the foot of the bed, biting her lip and tucking her hair behind her ear as she watches him. For a few long seconds neither of them moves and he notes the brightness in her eyes, the faint pink flush across her cheeks, a mix he's almost certain is part nerves, part excitement, and it's a combination that sends a shiver of raw lust through his body as he steps towards her. He notices her dress properly for the first time, the way it clings to her in all the right places, the shimmer of the fabric as she moves, and he's pretty sure she's the most perfect thing he's ever seen.
"Don't you even think about asking me if I'm sure about this, Dempsey." Her lips curve into a smile as she seems to read his mind. "I was sure last time, I'm sure this time, I'll be sure next time, every time. We can talk, but...after, okay?"
"Okay." He's powerless to argue with her, not when she's standing in front of him once again making it very clear that she wants him.
His hand moves to the back of her neck and slides under the fabric of her dress, his fingers roaming across the soft warmth of her skin before he starts to slowly drag her zip down. She releases a breath, a gentle sigh, and he feels the hairs on his arms rise up in response, accompanied by a sudden tightening in his groin. Her dress falls slowly to the floor and she reaches for his hand to steady herself as she steps free of it and kicks it aside. When she turns to him, there's a coy smile on her face and a faint trace of nerves in her eyes that fades slightly when he runs his thumbs tenderly across her cheekbones. There's so much that makes sense about the two of them and so much that doesn't. They're so different, they drive each other crazy, yet they're better together than apart, they're drawn to each other like moths to the proverbial flame, and there's a pull that simmers between them constantly, an attraction nothing like he's ever known before, a yearning that feels like it's beyond either of their control.
Kicking off his shoes, he makes light work of his buttons before throwing the shirt to the floor and the sight of her in front of him in just her underwear is the only thing he can focus on. Her breath tickles his chest as she removes his belt and her hand runs slowly over his crotch as she unzips his pants and pushes them down over his hips. Somehow he manages to step out of them without falling flat on his face, and a hint of a groan escapes him when she brushes the back of her hand across his now blatantly obvious arousal. He realises that just having her touch him again was everything he needed, seeing the look in her eyes that says she wants him as much as he wants her, and he can't wait another second to run his lips all over her.
He nudges her backwards against the bed and leans down to kiss her, his hand cupping the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he feels her moan gently, the sound sending a low hum through his chest. His lips drift from hers down to her jaw, her neck, and he flicks his tongue over a spot just beneath her ear that makes her squirm in the way he somehow knew it would.
"God, I've wanted you every day since the last time we did this..." He murmurs softly against her skin and his teeth scrape gently over the tip of her shoulder. "So much."
"I think I've wanted you even more. Not that it's a contest, and not that it matters now." She slides her hand down his arm, her fingers tracing a slow pattern to his wrist as she lets out a soft breath. "Neither of us is going anywhere, right?"
"Hell, I'm never even going into a room if you're not in it, Harry." He lifts his head and looks into her eyes, hearing the hint of nerves in her tone, holding her gaze until a smile moves onto her lips. Her earlier words come back to him and he determines to show her he could never have even a single second of regret about being with her, that he wants so much more with her than just sex.
"I don't think that's entirely practical, Dempsey." Her smile widens as she squeezes his fingers. "But it's an interesting idea."
"You know what I want right now?" He lowers his voice and watches as she bites her lip, tilting her head in curiosity, her blue eyes fixed on him. "I want to take off your underwear, I want you to get your beautiful self on that bed, and I want to kiss you all over."
"I remember what your mouth did to me last time, Dempsey, I want you to do that again." Her voice cracks slightly and he watches as she swallows hard before reaching to unclasp her bra and smiling at him.
He takes her at her word and doesn't wait a second longer, sliding the bra straps down her shoulders and tossing it to the floor, his eyes automatically drawn down to where she's now wearing nothing but simple black knickers. It isn't that he'd forgotten how she looks in this moment, more that he'd really had to work on trying to forget so he didn't completely fail to do any work, a feat much easier said than done. Now he doesn't have to try to clear the image from his mind because she's here, standing in front of him, only a scrap of black cotton standing between reality and the dreams he's been waking up from almost every morning. His hand trails down her side, over her rib cage, around to her stomach, making its way to her abdomen until he slips his finger under the cotton. Her stomach muscles contract under his touch and he feels a hint of a shiver run through her, a response so automatic it only deepens his craving for the taste of her skin under his lips.
He slides the underwear down, quickly, almost roughly, pausing only when she braces herself against his shoulder to step out of them. Leaning up, she kisses him, a hard, fervent kiss, and then she moves onto the bed, stretching out on her side and looking up at him, her mouth curved in a sweet, sexy smile that knocks his breath clean out of him.
"Equal playing field, partner." Still smiling, her eyes dart down. "Shorts off."
He wastes no time in obeying, before climbing onto the bed beside her, his hand reaching for her, cupping her face as he kisses her, a slow, deep kiss that comes from three weeks of not being able to touch her, to taste her. Three weeks that may as well have been three years. Not for the first time he can't quite believe she thought he might not want to do this again with her, thought that he might not want this and so much more. His thumb rests on her cheekbone and he feels her hand move to the back of his neck, her fingers curling into his hair, her nails scratching lightly across his skin.
"You're beautiful, Harry." He wonders if, at some point, she might get tired of him saying that almost constantly, as he intends to do, and then he sees the genuinely happy smile spreading slowly across her face and he thinks maybe not.
"Well, you're not exactly terribly hard on the eyes yourself." She rubs her nose against his as she smiles.
He shifts, just enough to dip his head down to her neck, to run his tongue across her collarbone, to graze his teeth lightly over her skin when she breathes his name into his ear. His hand moves to her hip, her ass, her thigh, like he's trying to touch every part of her all at once, reacquainting his fingers with her skin, with the softness he can't get enough of. And then there's her legs. Dear God, he loves her legs, he loved them from the first time she walked towards him in that red dress, a tiny bow tie around her neck and a hole in her stockings. He knew he was in trouble right away, and when she shifts slightly to run her foot down his calf, he knows he still is.
Sliding lower down her body, he takes his time, tasting every part of her, from her neck down to her abdomen, his hand firm on her thigh as he feels her push herself against him in response. She tastes sweeter than any dessert he's ever had and he can't get enough. Her fingers move into his hair, her grip tightening as he scrapes his teeth across her skin, and he feels himself get harder when she moans loudly into the quiet of the room. He moves his hand, shifting his touch to her inner thigh, pressing his fingers against her as she quivers involuntarily, her body seeming to sense exactly where he's heading. One finger pushes closer to where she wants it, then two, and she hisses his name, tugging on his hair, squirming as he starts to stroke inside her, slowly but firmly, determined to find the spot that will elicit the sound he remembers echoing around his bedroom the first time they did this. There's something about the noises she makes, the way she lets go and becomes a version of herself so completely different to the one he spends his working hours with...it's sexy beyond belief and fulfills a need he wasn't even aware he had.
"Oh my God, Dempsey, yes!" It's almost a shriek and it tells him he's right there, his middle finger crooked exactly where it needs to be, pressing just a fraction harder with each stroke.
Overwhelmed suddenly by the need to see her face, he lifts his lips from her skin and glances up, his fingers keeping up their steady rhythm inside her, his thumb swiping gently on the outside. She has her eyes closed and her cheeks are flushed, and her hand tightens in his hair, her fingers gripping the back of his head. He's almost achingly hard now, pushing against her leg, and it spurs him on, the thought that in a matter of minutes he's going to be inside her again. But first he wants to feel her come, he wants to feel her muscles tighten around his fingers, wants to hear her moaning with satisfaction in his ear. Scooting up slightly, he runs his tongue up her neck and when she opens her eyes and fixes them on him, he can see how close she is, and he gives three, four final deep strokes as he watches her prepare for release. She breathes out, the breath becoming a moan, the moan a faint wail, and then he feels it as she tenses around him and a long, indescribable sound falls from her lips as she comes hard against him.
Closing the distance, he presses his lips to hers and pulls his fingers slowly out of her, feeling her sigh as he does. Her hands move to his face, her thumbs tickling his cheekbones, and she opens her eyes as she pulls her mouth from his.
"Inside me, Dempsey, please." She rolls fully onto her back and opens her legs so he can settle between them.
He kisses her again, unable to resist the pink of her cheeks, the brightness of her eyes, pushing his tongue against hers, the kiss slow, languid, her breath hot against his. He feels her hand move down between them, her fingers wrapping around him, stroking him even harder, and when she shifts just a fraction to rub herself against him he lets out a long, low groan. Hooking his hand under her thigh, he can't wait a second longer so he slides into her, slowly and in one long stroke, his low groan and her gentle moan mingling together as he savours the feeling of being deep inside her again.
Almost instantly it feels right, the way it has never felt with anyone else, no matter how many women he took into his bed, or how much he told himself that someone like her would never want him and instead tried to convince himself that someone else would measure up eventually. Her arms slide around his neck and her fingers clasp tightly together behind his head. He realises he's started pushing into her hard and fast, and he tries to slow it down, the vague idea swirling around his brain that he really should attempt to last longer than a teenage boy, but she nixes that plan when she wraps her legs around him and lets out a long, ragged moan.
"We can take it slow next time..." She pauses, scratches her nails across the nape of his neck, and takes a breath. "For now, just...keep doing that."
Fuck, she's beautiful. Wide blue eyes, hair spread out over the pillow, a flush spreading from her cheeks down her neck and blooming lower, her tight, pink nipples pressed to his chest. She's the best thing ever to walk into his life, he knows that, he's not a total idiot. The knowledge that he gets to wake up with her tomorrow morning makes him smile (although it's possible it resembles more of a grimace right now), and he watches as she looks momentarily curious before she returns it and throws her head back. Her hands slide from around his neck down to his shoulders as she moans again, louder this time, pushing him closer and closer. He can't resist her neck, the pale skin dusted with freckles, a few strands of blonde hair bathed in sweat and sticking to her, so he dips his head and runs his tongue slowly up to her jaw. When she turns her head and somehow manages to kiss him, despite the awkward angle, he knows it's game over and as she slips her tongue into his mouth he's unable to hold off a second longer.
She carries on kissing him, her tongue chasing his, her own escaping to briefly run across his lips before sliding back into his mouth, her moans almost echoing right through him. He's still inside her and when she gives a firm squeeze, he finishes with a groan, pushing all he has into her, taken by a primal need to fill her as completely as possible, her muscles urging him on.
He doesn't know how long her lips stay on his, how many times she murmurs his name, how many times he breathes hers, where his sounds merge with hers, but it's her smile as she pulls away that brings him back to earth. There are smudges of make-up under both eyes, her lips are pink and swollen, her hair clings to her lightly sweaty forehead, and she's glowing.
"Dempsey, that was..." She sighs as he rolls slowly off her and he pulls her to him, not wanting to let her go. "I'm not sure I'm usually quite that...loud."
"Well, maybe not with anyone else but you were definitely that loud last time we did this, princess." She bites her lip but her smile is still there despite her efforts.
"Oh God, was I?" He remembers it well, recalls being surprised by her in all the best ways, including how vocal she was.
"Yeah, I like that you make it real clear you're enjoying it." It's true, he loves that she lets go with him, that she doesn't try to hold back the way she does at work. He feels like he's going to enjoy getting to know this side of her better than he does already. "That kind of feedback isn't exactly bad for a guy's ego, babe."
"Well, maybe next time we should torture my neighbours and give yours a break." She reaches for him and her fingers trail across his shoulder, down his arm, her touch light and tender.
"If there are two better words in the English language right now than 'next time' then I sure as hell don't know what they are." He leans in and kisses her, unable to resist the soft smile on her lips and the relaxed look in her eyes.
"We've really gone and muddied the waters now, haven't we?" She snuggles further down in the bed and her hand slides onto his chest, her fingers drumming lightly against him.
"I think we skipped past the mud last time and now we've gone right to the oil spill." He grins, knowing they muddied the waters three weeks ago yet somehow managed to act like it never happened, even though he never stopped thinking about it, and it seems neither did she. "Look at it this way though, at least now we'll be able to do this to blow off steam at the end of a bad day. Or a good day. Or, you know, an average day."
"I like that you covered all bases there, Dempsey. And I actually think average days are horribly underrated." He runs a finger down the side of her cheek and she smiles as she goes on. "I mean, really, what's wrong with a day where nothing particularly wonderful happens, but nothing terrible does either? Sometimes those are the most satisfying days."
"Then we should definitely celebrate those days." He drops his hand from her face, runs it down her side, noting the slight shudder, appreciating the faint moan as his fingers tickle her ribs. "And hell, stakeouts could be about to get much more interesting."
"Mm, as much as this really would make those long, dull stakeouts much more fun, I think we're going to need to set some ground rules." She lifts an eyebrow and there's a sparkle in her eyes as she looks at him. "I don't particularly want us to lose our jobs. I'd end up on traffic work at best, you'd be deported back to America in disgrace, and we'd never see each other again. It would be awful."
"Yeah, doesn't sound great when you put it that way." She's right but at least he can gaze at her openly now when they're stuck in the car for hours on end. Suddenly surveillance work doesn't sound nearly as dull as it used to. "I guess we need to stick to my place or yours for this kind of fun."
"I'm glad I didn't call for a cab to go home tonight. I'm not sure how many more nights I would have survived lying in bed wishing I had your hands on me and not my own." There's a glint in her eyes that tells him she knows exactly where his thoughts will go at the mention of her touching herself and thinking of him. "And before you say it, I know, if I hadn't acted like last time meant nothing…"
"I wasn't going to say a thing." He really wasn't, but now she has he can't help asking something that he's been wondering ever since she played it cool three weeks ago. "But now you've brought it up. Can I ask you something about that?"
"What?" She smiles at him and waits for his question.
"Was it because…" He pauses, thinking he probably knows the answer, seeing as she made it clear that last time did mean something, but wanting to hear it from her anyway. "Do you not trust me, Harry?"
"What? No. God, no, Dempsey, it's not that, it's not that at all. I trust you completely." Her hand slides up from his chest to settle on his face, cupping his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin. "I think it was...self-preservation, for want of a better description. Believe it or not, I love working with you now, and I just couldn't imagine going to work every day knowing that I wanted more of you but that you'd ticked me off your list and already moved onto the next girl."
"Which, if you'd let me talk, you would have known wasn't going to happen, isn't going to happen." He believes she trusts him, it's herself, or maybe her own judgement that he thinks she may not be so sure about, and not for the first time he curses her ex-husband, the one who he's damn sure took the faith she had in herself and rattled it. "I don't know if you realise this but there is nobody in the world who could follow you, into my bed or anywhere else."
"If that's the case, and I'm not doubting you, why didn't you try to put me right last time?" She frowns just slightly but her eyes remain on his.
"How was I to know I wasn't being checked off your list and that you weren't already planning your move onto the next guy?" He sighs, knowing deep down that was never it, that's not who she is, but wanting to hear what she has to say. Not that it really matters now. "You're gorgeous, Harry, guys should be lining up for you."
"Come on, Dempsey, this is me we're talking about, and you know me. Okay, so you don't know this, but...since my marriage went to hell I have dated one man. And by 'dated' I mean I tried to convince myself I could forget being cheated on and try to pretend it hadn't left me feeling completely rejected. As it turns out, I'm terrible at casual dating...I mean, really terrible. My friend set me up with him, we went out a few times and had approximately twenty minutes of terrible sex before he said I clearly wasn't ready for a relationship." She gives him a wry smile and shifts closer. "Not with him, I wasn't, he was quite possibly the world's most boring man. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I don't really do this unless it means something."
"So, can I hope your streak of dating idiots, marrying idiots…" He grins, runs his hand gently down her arm. "Can I hope that's run its course?"
"That makes it sound like I've been married to numerous idiots when really just one absolute arsehole was quite enough." She lets out a long sigh before smiling again. "No pressure, but I'm hopeful you might break the curse, Dempsey."
"Well, lucky for you, baby, I'm great under pressure." He waggles his eyebrows and grins. "And without those idiots I might never have gotten my chance."
"That's true, baby." Something deep inside, an unexpected flip in his stomach, tells him he's going to need her to use those kinds of names more. "So, considering I've had five dates and twenty minutes of dreadful sex since I left my husband, are you now willing to accept that there's no orderly queue of other men I'm planning on working my way through?"
"I'll accept anything you say if you call me baby again, Harry." It's true. She could tell him he's the world's biggest ass and if she calls him baby he'll probably agree.
"Oh, you like that, do you?" She smirks and leans closer, brushing her lips to his ear. "Baby?"
"Yeah, I like that." She pulls back and looks into his eyes, the faint smirk back in place. "About that...the lawyer and all, your divorce, is it-"
"Finalised last week." He can hear the relief in her tone, and he wonders if what happened between them was the catalyst for her wanting to finalise things, as arrogant as it feels to make such an assumption. "So we'll ignore the fact that the first time this happened I was technically still married."
"And now you're single and ready to mingle." He grins at her and slides his fingers into hers, squeezing softly.
"I'm mingling with the only one I want to, thank you very much." God help him, he loves that slightly haughty tone and the way she seems able to turn it on at will.
"Well, I'm feeling very honoured, Sergeant." Her hand is warm in his and when he finds himself wanting to hold it forever he wonders briefly when he turned into a sentimental idiot.
"You should, Lieutenant." Her nose nuzzles against his and her lips move to ghost lightly over his before she pulls back and looks at him. "You really should."
He hopes she knows that behind the playful banter is the absolute truth and he does know how lucky he is. She could have her pick of half the guys in London but, for reasons he's determined not to overthink, she's betting all her chips on him, and he's going to do whatever it takes to make sure she doesn't regret it. He can't help wondering how he's going to keep himself from reaching for her at work, how he's going to resist brushing his hand against hers, stroking his thumb across her face, pushing her hair out of her eyes. It's been almost impossible for the last few weeks, manageable only because he thought she never wanted him to touch her again, a thought that he can smile at now he knows the opposite was true. Now he knows she wants him as much as he wants her, it's going to take a superhuman effort and he's going to need to remind himself daily that she carries a gun and she's more than proficient with it.
"I'm going to the bathroom." Her voice interrupts his thoughts and her hand squeezes his before she lets go and gets out of bed.
He watches her as she crosses the room, giving him a view he could definitely get used to, and as she walks out the door he pushes himself up to sit, leaning back against the headboard and thinking about the last time she was here. He isn't a particularly good sleeper, hasn't really been since he came to London, or maybe he never was, but he slept so well with her curled up beside him last time that he somehow didn't even wake when she crept out of bed before dawn and disappeared. The thought of her being the thing that heals his insomnia is a welcome one. While she's in the bathroom, he reaches for his shorts and slides them back on, yawning as he waits for her to return to the bedroom. When she walks back in, there's a slightly shy smile on her face, and he watches as she scoops up a t-shirt from the chair in the corner of his room and slips it over her head before making her way back and sliding into bed.
"Is this okay?" She gestures to the t-shirt and he nods, amused somehow by her sudden attack of shyness considering the situation.
"Hey…" He pulls her to him and kisses her, his hand cupping her face as his lips softly and gently explore hers for just a few seconds before he pulls back. "You okay?"
"It feels different this time, doesn't it?" She leans back against the headboard but her eyes stay on him as she asks the question.
"Maybe that's because last time you were planning your covert, pre-dawn escape, Harry." He smiles at her, sensing her nerves, her apparent realisation that maybe they've embarked on something big. "You're not planning another one, are you?"
"I don't have my car and I really don't have the energy to get dressed, so no, I may as well stay." She grins and moves her hand to rest on his arm. "Do you think this would have happened last time at all, if we hadn't had such a horrible week and you hadn't invited me back here for a drink, and-"
"And if you hadn't downed two glasses of Scotch and thrown yourself at me?" It's how he remembers it, mostly because she caught him completely by surprise, but he's fully prepared for her to disagree with his version of events.
"I think you'll find it was three glasses." It's not quite the denial he was expecting but it makes him smile anyway. "I'm not such a lightweight that two glasses would have tipped me over the edge."
"Then thank God for that third glass." He reaches for her hand and gently squeezes her fingers, watching as the uncertainty fades from her eyes and her smile softens. "Let's do something tomorrow."
"Are you suggesting we sleep together again after work tomorrow? Good to know romance is alive and well here, Dempsey." There's a hint of a smirk playing at her lips even as she raises an eyebrow.
"You have a filthy mind, Sergeant Makepeace, I didn't say anything about us sleeping together. Not that I'd object, obviously…" Right now, he'd suggest they quit their jobs and stay in bed forever if he thought she'd go for it, but actually, he really wants to take her out, and not just as his colleague. "But what I meant was we could go to a movie or have dinner...just, you know, hang out together. If it's romance you're looking for..."
"I didn't mean…" She pauses, takes a breath, and he can almost hear the wheels turning in her head. "Actually, as it happens, that sounds really nice."
"Yeah, it does." He grins at her, already thinking about where he might take her, wondering if she has a clue that romance is definitely alive and well, and he's going to make sure she knows it. "And tomorrow is Friday so I can keep you up all night without having to give a damn about an early alarm the next morning."
"I like the sound of that too." She shifts slightly to face him and her hand once again comes to rest on his face, the tips of her thumbs roam across his cheeks, and he knows her touch is one he's never going to get tired of. "We really should get some sleep so we're not totally giving ourselves away when we arrive at work in the morning completely exhausted."
He nods and kisses her before sliding down in the bed, pulling her with him until her head settles on his chest, smiling when he hears her faint sigh and feels her arms slide around him. For a few minutes he listens to her breathing; soft, rhythmic, soothing, then he feels himself thinking about how he used to need a few drinks in the evenings or how he found himself popping the occasional sleeping pill, when all this time what he needed to guide him to sleep was the comfort of having her in his arms.
"Stop thinking, Dempsey, and get some sleep." Her voice is low, barely more than a murmur, laced with tiredness and a tinge of amusement, and he drops a kiss to the top of her head in response.
"Okay…'night, princess." As he smiles, pulling her a little bit tighter against him, he feels his eyes drift shut and realises he's going to enjoy his nights ending like this.