A/N: I know, I know there are two stories of mine right now which deserve an update and yet here I am, posting a one-shot. A very, very long one-shot :) But thing is, that idea gripped me and didn't let me go until it was written – though in my head this somehow played out differently. Fun fact about the story, the initial idea actually was reverse, with Ranger breaking into Steph's place (for different reasons) and yet. That story is on my hard drive as well, but not finished. I'm aware I'm walking a rather grey line morally speaking. Warning for adult content.
Also, credit where credit is due: Shout out to "Corinne Herman" from the Facebook Group Ranger should get the Girl where I made a post, stating that I was having issues finding acceptable reasons for Steph's doing and her suggestion was the one that actually worked perfectly. That being said, shout out to everyone there who actually made suggestions in regards of reasoning.
Out of all the crazy stuff I had been doing throughout the years and had come up with, this must have taken the cake. I couldn't even remember why I had thought this was the best of ideas to begin with, but figure that late night with my best friend Mary Lou as well as Connie and Lula as well as my sister and several bottles of tequila between us could have something to do with that. Not that I blamed any of this on the tequila or the girls. After all, I was stone cold sober right now and couldn't say that any of them had pushed me. It was a stupid idea that was probably more a theoretical than anything and somehow became reality.
I had been dating Joseph Morelli for the better part of the past four years and somehow along the line we had decided on being engaged. Nothing wrong with that and the fact that I wasn't feeling like banging my head constantly against a desk or wall when thinking about marriage was a good sign. My mother was excited, the Burg was all buzzing with new gossip and I was …meh. I don't know exactly what you are supposed to feel when getting engaged and planning a wedding, but somehow, I assumed feeling meh was not it. Not that I wasted too many thoughts on it anyway.
Joe had always been sort of a wild child growing up and a ladies' man throughout high school. I don't know how many cherries he popped but there were probably quiet a few. Not that this mattered, especially since I needed to count myself to that list. The road to our engagement – or even relationship – was rocky and I assume no one had seen this end coming. He took my virginity when I was 16 in a less than romantic way, I despised him for it, he went on and wrote about the experience over every bathroom stall wall in Trenton and a 10-mile vicinity and I was grounded for the summer. I got my revenge when I ran him accidently over with my grandma's Buick a few years later and that was the end of our glorious relationship. A relationship that had for the longest time been based on hate and mutual annoyance. Healthy, right?
How we ended up together in the end is a bit tricky to answer. I guess persistence was a huge part of it. If my life would be a Hollywood movie, it probably would have involved him apologizing in the rain, me realizing how much my hate actually was love and … well… THE END. But my life wasn't a romance movie, more like a drama mixed with comedy every once in a while, and our relationship somehow once more seemed to have hit a brick wall. And this time I wasn't sure we could or should recover. But then again, breaking into the house of the woman your fiancé was supposedly having an affair with was the end of a lot of roads. Especially the ones that involved a relationship.
I had heard about Catalina Monday and seen pictures of her by Wednesday. And while there had always been rumours about Morelli's infidelities flowing around, this one didn't just seem really real but also hurt like a bitch. One could say now, I knew what I was getting myself into and that one can't change a tiger's stripes. Maybe true, and it wasn't like I was trying to change him. But we were about to get married and he was constantly going on about kids. Was this the idea of a picture-perfect family? And maybe that was the initial problem: the part about picture-perfect and family.
It was no secret that I was no big fan of kids and didn't necessarily need them myself to proclaim some sort of success, but then again, same could have said about me and marriage. And look how that turned out. So maybe my anger was more directed at myself than Morelli if I was being honest.
I wasn't into women, but I could admire beauty and admit when someone was hot. And looking at pictures of Catalina, that was what I thought. She is hot. But than again, of course she is. Isn't it a somehow universal rule that the affair always was hotter than oneself? And I was almost certain, looking at her picture, she was one of these people that looked good in a picture and in real life looked even better.
I'm not proud to admit it but I had a lot of friends at the Trenton police department and when I asked one of them about Catalina and got an address, it might have been a new low and maybe for some shrinks the first of many warning bells. But I wasn't a stalker and just curious. Why? Not sure. I also got her work place and was not entirely surprised to learn she was a business owner that had a handful of clothing boutiques all over town.
Using an excuse, I dragged Mary Lou to one of the locations and was surprised when I managed to run into Catalina. With the number of stores, she owned this really had been pure luck, but I wasn't complaining. And I came to realize I had been right, she was one of these people that looked even better in real life. Compared to her I was a dud, and I definitely didn't have self-image problems or issue with my self-confidence, mind you. But she was everything I wasn't - stunningly beautiful, well-toned with curves in all the right places, tall with legs that seemed endless, sophisticated and with a certain air about her that had you fascinated without being able to put your finger on what exactly it was. She had long, wavy, shiny black hair, perfectly manicured fingers and was impeccably dressed in shoes that would make any Jersey girl proud. And added to her already impressive height. Some girls really did have all the luck.
I was pretending to browse the clothes on all sort of hangers, keeping an eye on Catalina every once in a way and figured I was busted when she walked my way.
"Hi, you seem a little lost," she said when she approached me with a typical sales-girl smile. Odd, seeing as she was owning the store and had by the looks of it plenty of employees who could have approached me. "Is there something I can help you with today?"
"I ... um... I'm just browsing," I said, looking at whatever was in front of me right now.
"Are you looking for anything particular?"
"Not rea-" I started, but was interrupted by Mary Lou who had decided on joining the conversation.
"Yes, we are looking for something that would impress her boyfriend. She tries to reignite the flame a little." I would have rolled my eyes, if that hadn't been a bit too obvious. Way to give information to the enemy, Mary Lou. But than again, we didn't know whether Catalina was aware of her position as second string.
"What's he into?" Catalina asked and I felt an unfounded need to roll my eyes once more. Before I could reply, Mary Lou had taken it upon herself to be helpful.
"Lace," was simply her answer and I wasn't sure whether she implied what I thought she did.
Catalina laughed for a moment. "I guess you are in the wrong department," she laughed, and went on, further into the store until we stopped at the lingerie part of it. While the store itself was okay and seemed to have quite a lot of fashionable and great looking pieces none of them really were my style. They were an odd mix of Miami Club scene and Argentinian Flamenco, which probably worked on some people but definitely not on me. I was too much of a Jersey Girl to pull of Flamenco dresses. Me and all of New Jersey really. Maybe her shop would in general be better suited in warmer climates and further south of the country since I really couldn't picture a lot of Jersey Girls in these kinds of clothes. But maybe everyone was coming for the underwear. Like, with adult stores, where every woman would tell you, you'd find the best underwear.
A few more steps towards the back of the store and I had to admit I was wrong. With my adult store assumption. Because, as different as the clothes up front were, the same could be said about the underwear. And not in a complimenting kind of way. The displayed items weren't scandalous as such, I had even seen worse, but it was so not again my style – or anyone's I knew off. And looking at Mary Lou to my left, I saw that it wasn't her style either.
The colours were all over the place, starting at neon-pink and covering a whole array on the colourful spectrum. While my preferred choices all seemed to be a range from old classics – white, black, trustworthy beige as well as a seducing red-, classic was the last word I'd use to describe what was presented to me. The lace looked cheap and touching it confirmed that it was indeed. Stiff and scratchy, this was certainly not something I'd like to wear all day and feel comfortable in. But maybe not wearing it all day was the whole purpose of it.
Catalina walked through a few rows with hangers and pulled out random things, making me wonder once more why she had chosen to be my sales girl. I was certain she had enough Business-woman stuff on her plate, paperwork and the likes, so why bother and entertain me as a sales girl? Unless she of course knew who I was.
"What about this?" she asked, holding a rather ugly ensemble of something that was at best described as a teddy in my direction. It was in a silver-ish kind of colour and when worn would probably barely cover the bare essentials. While underwear definitely could be sexy and sultry, this wasn't touching any of the mentioned attributes. It looked cheap and rather skanky, like something you had purchased down at the Dollar General store and not paid almost 100 bucks for.
"I own this piece in six different colours," Catalina beamed and I smiled politely, somehow having no issue seeing her in it, despite the amount of class and glamour she exuded. There was something about her that made her seem vulgar and cheap and that assessment had nothing to do with her being 'the other woman'. There was just something about her that almost screamed 'tawdry'.
"I think I ... um... look for something slightly different," I tried explaining, steering her and Mary Lou in a direction of underwear that I could technically be swayed to buy if I wanted to. Not that I wanted or needed anything. And while Joe was usually the first to appreciate that kind of stuff, it wasn't necessarily needed to get his juices flowing. But I also had no trouble picturing him actually responding to that piece of scandalous cloth. But then again, I suppose all men would.
"You know, my boyfriend likes it. As a matter of fact, he can't seem to get enough of it and I keep buying them almost by bulk since he keeps ripping them right off of me," Catalina remarked and I was feeling a little sick. For several reasons. Mainly, because this was a little too much information for me, regardless who she was sleeping with. Admittedly, thinking about Morelli ripping underwear off of her body did the rest of giving me an uneasy stomach.
"I...um, lucky you," I said, a bit taken aback, not sure how to deal with that much unneeded information.
"You have no idea," she just smiled, looking almost proudly. Not sure what she was so proud of, but maybe I am a bit jaded in that regard.
Instead of another reply I just smiled at her, letting my fingers trace the material of a bra which was hanging in front of me and was distracted a second later when something caught my peripheral vision.
Looking up, I spotted a necklace around Catalina's neck, which must have reflected the light in order to get my attention. It was a gorgeous piece of jewellery and one I was more than familiar with. Since this was mine. Well, at least it looked like something I used to own but misplaced.
"That's a nice necklace,' I said, pointing towards the piece and saw Catalina almost beam.
"A present from my boyfriend," she replied and I had issues remaining as calm as I appeared.
"Seems like quiet a catch that guy of yours."
"He's a cop at the PD," Catalina supplied and by now there was no way in hell she wasn't talking about Morelli. While that never had been on my mind that she could be speaking about someone else, the necklace could technically have come from anyone and could technically just look like the one I had replaced earlier this month. I had always suspected I had lost it in Morelli's car or house, but he kept telling me nothing was found. Well, you couldn't find something you'd given away previously. Of course, one could raise the point of plenty of necklaces looking the same and this was just a coincidence, but it was actually some sort of an heirloom that my grandmother had given me years ago and which was almost one of a kind.
It wasn't flashy or over the top and rather simple and elegant. Consisting of delicate silver strings which were woven into each other and engulfed a small pearl as well as stone that could be a sapphire if real.
I don't know how I was able to remain calm, but apparently, I did, seeing as neither Mary Lou nor Catalina seemed to notice my discomfort and anger. Well, Mary Lou probably did, since she knew me since kindergarten. I don't know what annoyed me most: The fact that I had asked Joe about the necklace and whether he had found it (which apparently, he did) and he kept telling me no, or the fact that he knew how much that necklace meant to me and yet he had gifted it to his mistress.
"I love it, especially since it symbolizes what we have in a way. But I only wear it every once in a while, on special occasions. It used to belong to this chick he was dating, but apparently was a complete failure in life. So, he left her for me and gave me as his token of love this heirloom," Catalina went on without being asked or prompted. And for a second, I was just about to simply nod at another trivial remark she probably had made, when her words registered. Failure? Left her for me? WTF? So, Catalina knew when she met Morelli that there had been another girl? And she had accepted willingly a present she knew did belong to someone else?
For a second, I thought about explaining to her who I was and that her beau certainly had not left me for her, but figured I didn't need the headache and the debate which most likely was about to follow my statement. So, I just kept my mouth shut and nodded, looking hopefully somewhat admiringly at her necklace and making a plan about the future concerning Morelli and how to go about that certain piece of jewellery.
And that was what got me into my current position. People always described me as impulsive. This certainly could definitely be considered impulsive - as well as insane und maybe even stupid. Oh, and probably illegal. Well, most likely for sure illegal.
As mentioned before, I had plenty of friends at the PD and they had provided me with the actual residential address of Catalina. It was a nice neighbourhood, a bit further away from the Burg where I lived with Morelli and was located at a quiet cul-de-sac. So, I made a plan. A stupid plan, but a plan nevertheless. What actually really made me think this was going to work or was a smart thing to do I couldn't tell.
So, one night I found myself parked two streets over from her address with the plan of breaking in and hopefully retrieving my necklace. I had never broken in anywhere and never actually broken just a single law, so my experiences were limited and it wasn't really something you could google as such. What I assumed I knew had been knowledge acquired from several Hollywood movies, and I am not certain whether that could actually be called a credible source of knowledge.
Despite me not knowing a lot about my adventure, I knew one thing: walking through the front door was not working and an even worse idea than this entire thing.
Morelli had left this morning for a 'workshop' that would force him to stay a few nights in Philadelphia (according to him at least) and earlier I had witnessed Catalina leaving as well, packing a weekender into her trunk. So, my assumption was that Joe's workshop actually was more about Catalina than it was about work.
I waited until dusk and set out on my mission, hoping for a streak of luck in regards of success and tried thinking of ideas how to get in. From what I could tell there was no way in from the front since there were only windows on the upper level and I had no way of getting there. So, my best shot was maybe the back and that there was a window open? I know chances were slim, but hopefully I was lucky enough.
Dressed in black from head to toe and equipped with a very small flashlight I snuck around the house quietly and quickly, facing a large window front. None of them looked too promising and I was about to think of something else when I noticed a smaller window at the end of the row that seemed open enough for me to fit through. Only problem was that it was located slightly higher than the other windows and without help I would not be able to climb through it. Looking around, I spotted a rain barrel by the wall and moved it as quietly and quickly as possible in a way that I was able to climb on it and lift myself into the desired window.
I wasn't really the most athletic person and climbing through that window proved a certain challenge, but I was motivated enough to ignore the strain and small pain this caused me. For now, at least.
It was spookily quiet inside and I had to realize that I had no clue where to actually start my search. Not due to the fact that I didn't know where she'd keep my necklace, but due to the fact that I had no clue about the layout of the house. If Catalina was like most other women, the necklace could be only in the bedroom or the bathroom, depending on where she'd keep her jewellery in general. But I had no clue which of the many doors in front of me was a bathroom or bedroom. And how many rooms did this house have?
After a few seconds of internal debate, I decided on just opening random doors. One of them would probably be the right one. And if not, the house wasn't that big to try a few more downstairs, though, I would only be glad once I actually got to leave this place again. Despite me feeling like I was in a way in my right to be here and find my necklace, there was no argument about the legal side of this operation. Because, clearly this was far from legal. And could her owning my necklace that Morelli gave to her, knowing full well I was looking for it and what it actually meant to me justify me actually breaking in? Certainly not. But that was for another night to debate.
I opened the first two doors to find a home gym and something that could be best described as closet, though it wasn't attached to a bedroom. It was simply a room by itself, with walls on three sides and the door I walked through. It reminded me about a simple storeroom except for the rails and all three walls that housed absurd amounts of clothes on one side, a shoe collection that would make any Jersey girl green of envy on a second wall and something that I'd categorize as 'accessories' like hats or purses on the third. Rummaging through a handful of the very few drawers, they contained all sorts of things bit nothing that could be considered jewellery. So, I moved on to the next door and was facing an office that was held one of the neatest desks I'd ever seen. Not a piece of paper seemed to be out of place. I made a few steps inside on the off chance that maybe there was a bowl that contained necklaces and other pieces, but of course found nothing.
The desk contained nothing but two or three single papers on the side, as well as one of these Tiffany lamps that could be found almost everywhere and a single photo. Picking up the picture I was surprised to see it showed Catalina with some guy who wasn't Morelli. A brother maybe? He was dressed in all black, wore a rather serious expression on his face, but was hot as hell. Seemed like her family had hit the genetic jackpot. Some women really did have it all: The looks, the hot family members, successful businesses, other women's boyfriends.
Putting the photo down with a sigh, I decided on moving on, when all of a sudden, my adventure came to an immediate stop.
"Move and you are dead," I heard a deep voice behind me and a second later something rather cold pressed against the back of my head. Was that a weapon? Oh my god.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he went on asking when I tried being as quiet and still as I could. Technically being quiet and still was pointless. It wasn't as if I hadn't been caught and was right in the middle of being shot for home invasion.
"I… I …. I…," I kept stuttering, not even sure what I was going to say. "I'm Stephanie Plum," I said almost in blind panic and fear. Sure, I could have used an alias or fake name, but somehow, my brain wasn't functioning in that regards. It was more focused on the gun against my head.
"You are a girl?" I heard the mysterious guy asking confused, which confused me. It isn't as if there weren't female burglars. This was the 21st century. Equal opportunities for everyone! And who was he calling a girl? I was mid-thirty and long past girl-status.
A second later I noticed him move slightly behind me and the Tiffany lamp on the desk was switched on, bathing the office in soft light. He turned me around moments later and I came to realize I was facing the guy from the picture. For a second, I was not sure what frightened me more: the gun in his hand pointed towards me or the way he was built. He could easily overpower me without that gun, which he must have realized the same moment I came to that conclusion, since he lowered it.
He kept looking at me confused for what seemed hours, eventually moving slightly to the side again and pulled a phone towards him. I hadn't even seen the console earlier. He pressed a few buttons and I heard the signal through the speaker. Someone answered with only a short "Yes".
"Run a Stephanie Plum for me through the systems!" he ordered and I was not too certain what would happen next. I heard wild typing on the other end the line and a moment later a whole fountain of information that was me came as an answer.
Half the information that was shared about my person wasn't even known by myself. Or rather something I myself never wondered about. Truth was, my life was average at best. I wasn't particularly good at anything really – except for getting myself into trouble – and had no huge successful career or my own business. I wasn't really a failure as such, but not really a hotshot either. Average at best. And hearing the meagre details of my less than stellar life presented back to me in such sort points was not helping my ego or self-esteem. I felt almost like I needed to watch the floor while I listened to my less than average life being laid out in front of me.
He hung up a second later without even a single word of thanks, but seemingly missed the button to disconnect and averted his eyes from me for a second. I don't know what made me do it or what the hell I was thinking, but I used his moment of distraction and the fact that the gun was still lowered and ran.
And I know, running was most likely even more stupid in regards of ideas than breaking in in the first place. But…. I wasn't thinking. All I saw was this big and hunky guy plus the weapon in his hand. All results this equation came to were somehow rounding up to danger, trouble and fear on my part. One could argue now that he had a gun and all he had to do was lift his hand and just pull the trigger. He wouldn't have to move one foot and still get me – but, again, I wasn't thinking that far. I also didn't make it far before I felt arms coming around my upper body and pulling my back against his front, snaking his arms so tight around my upper body that I had absolutely no way of getting out of it – not with the amount of muscle his upper arms displayed. I struggled fruitlessly against the hold and let out a frustrated groan that could also have been accompanied by tears.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," kept saying, almost sobbing – from fear and panic. Maybe this was the moment when I realized that my plan had be absolutely stupid! "I just wanted to get what was mine. I swear, I wasn't robbing her or taking anything else, just… that one thing that is mine."
I couldn't help the tears that were by now flowing almost like rivers down my face.
"And what would that be?" he asked me in a surprisingly soft voice, his breath hot against the shell of my ear.
"A necklace," I said taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down. It barely worked and the moment I had answered I was back to panic mode. If he'd call the police – assuming he wasn't a cop himself – and have me arrested I would never hear the end of it from my mother, who'd probably use that as the perfect excuse on another monologue of how I was yet again the child that disappointed her and was making a scene representing the Plum family in a bad way. I'd hear once more about other's people kids who would never get arrested or who accomplished to win the Nobel Peace price or something and she'd start once more on her quest of getting my wedding to Morelli set as quickly as possible. Because that would straighten me out. It could also cause problems for me with my employer who probably would be less than excited about one of his employees having a record. While I wasn't in any line of work where a record was a huge problem, it also wasn't helping.
These two thoughts alone started me on another panic attack and breathing all of a sudden became really an issue. The tears were back as well and I was really questioning my sanity all over again. Who was that stupid to break into a house for a necklace? Stephanie Plum, that's who.
"Please," I almost pleaded, trying once more. "I just want the necklace back and nothing else. I never came for anything else. Just… the necklace. I'll get it and then walk out of here, never bothering anyone ever again."
"You break into my house for a piece of jewellery and then think I'll let you just walk out the front door? Just like that?" he asked, looking a mixture of confusion and surprise. And yes, I know how I must have sounded, but it was worth a try, was it not?
"Your house?" I asked surprised and quietly.
"Well, one of my houses," he corrected himself. "And that must be quiet a necklace."
"It is," I replied truthfully, still hoping for the best. Though, in all fairness, the guy wasn't really radiating empathy.
"So, in order to make some quick cash to probably support some drug habit or addiction, you pawn of a piece of family jewellery and then want to get it back when you find out someone else bought it?" he asked. I was about to reply weakly, when his words all of a sudden sunk in. And when they did, it was like some switch in my brain was turned. Gone was all of a sudden, my previous fear and panic and instead I was feeling angry in a way I barely ever had been before. What the hell? Drug habit? Quick cash? Who the hell did he think he was? His arms still tightly around my upper body, I struggled once more and had to realize this really wasn't working. But, I all of a sudden realized that my feet and legs were unrestricted in their movement. So, I lifted my leg and kicked behind me, hoping for the best and was surprised when I heard an intake of air and felt arms being loosened a second later. I repeated my kick once more and seemed to have hit something rather painful, since all of a sudden, his arms were gone and I heard not only a sharp intake of air, but also a groan.
I had never been the smartest person to begin with. And while most likely everyone else would have used that moment of him being occupied with something else – mainly himself and the pain he was feeling – to run and really get the hell out of here, I was not. But I also wasn't most people. So, instead of running out the door, I turned around and faced my capturer again. He was still as hot as a few seconds before, but seemed like fighting of a wave of serious pain. Maybe my aim had been great for once.
"Just for your information, I didn't need quick cash or have a habit that needs supporting. A few weeks back I lost the necklace and my fiancée found it, yet instead of giving it back to me he decided on gifting it to his mistress as I learned a few days ago. To make matters even worse, she is fully aware that this is the heirloom of someone else and sees it as some sort of victory and token of love, triumphing over the other women, who Morelli supposedly left for her. Which isn't the case. So, when your sister comes back from that weekend trip with my fiancée you can gladly let her know to go fuck herself and that he hadn't left me for her but rather was just two-timing. Well, until now that is. She can gladly have him; I have no longer any interest. As a matter of fact, all of you can go to hell and never return for all I care. I just want my necklace and get the hell out of here, never to see you, Morelli or Catalina ever again!" I said, one step below yelling. I was so mad that I didn't care that I was actually the bad guy in this, seeing that I broke into this place. But right now, I didn't care. And maybe his remark had set of not just anger at him, but also all the pent-up frustration with Morelli and me as well.
The pain must have lessened by now, or forgotten, since he straightened himself a second later and looked at me confused.
"What sister?" he asked and I looked at him confused now.
"Catalina?" I asked. Maybe he had several sisters? Judging by his facial expression I was wrong with my assumptions. "She… isn't your sister," I stated not in a question, but as a fact. His nod a moment later confirmed it.
I didn't need to know whether she was the girlfriend or the fiancée – it wouldn't change anything. He didn't seem as angry or upset as I was, but than again, he didn't seem like a guy who expressed a lot of emotions to begin with.
I used a moment to look at him, wasting probably even more precious time to get out of her and be done with it all. To hell with the necklace. While looking at him thoroughly for the longest of moments, wondering how dumb and mentally challenged Catalina maybe was. She seemed perfectly normal when I met her.
"What makes you think she's mentally challenged?" he asked, seeming even more confused and I must have spoken what I thought. While that was the explanation to his question, there was no logical explanation to the answer that followed from me. Maybe I was once again losing my sanity.
"You are hot. Insanely hot. Like… really, really, really hot," I said and wondered whether my vocabulary actually consisted of more words than 'hot'. Probably not. "Morelli is average at best compared to you. What sane woman cheats on a guy like you with a guy like Morelli? And is proud of it? I would get it, if I was cheating on Morelli with you, since that would be considered an upgrade, but… she… is downgrading. By a lot. Unless you are an absolute asshole who is impossible to be around. But she doesn't seem to be very in a situation in which she is forced to be with you. So… why? I mean, you are…an entirely different galaxy compared to Morelli. Or me. So, again, why? I don't get it. My only explanation is that she is simply dumb and mentally challenged and impaired." And maybe I was equally challenged in the mental department, otherwise I couldn't explain why I was talking and babbling. Especially in a situation like the one I was in. A situation that had me break into a house. And face an armed…protector? An armed protector who seemed like he was thinking of smiling.
"Thank you?" he asked, sounding unsure himself. "I mean, was that supposed to be a compliment? I can't really tell. And no."
"No what?" I asked confused at which he seemed once more like he was thinking about smiling.
"I'm not an asshole and she certainly wasn't forced to stay around."
"Then I really don't understand. Unless, of course, the sex was less then average," I stated, almost absent minded and before I once more I could stop myself. When it sunk in with me what I had just said out loud, I closed my eyes almost in embarrassment. Opening them again I saw him standing still in front of me, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his biceps straining the material of the t-shirt he was wearing. Without even knowing him I could see how ridiculous my blurted-out thought had been. Because there was not a single doubt in my mind that this statement would be the furthest from the truth. And why exactly I was thinking about his qualities as a lover was not really something I understood. But my mind had sometimes odd ways of keeping busy. Odd and inappropriate ways. And had I mentioned how hot he was so far? All that deliciously smooth looking, mocha-latte coloured skin that stretched over taunt and hard muscles. I might only be seeing what his skin-tight T-shirt was not covering, but what I saw was already more than enough to have me question Catalina once again.
"I can guarantee you she had no reason for complaint," he said stern and with a certainty that was almost scary. But who was I kidding? There was no doubt about his potential abilities. Looking at him, everything screamed sex. Not that this made me shut up and move on.
"Well, how would you know? Women are really good at faking it," I said and wanted to groan. What was my god damn problem? Just leave the topic alone already, would you? And get on with the program and get done what you initially came for.
Instead of an instant reply, like probably most guy would have given, he just looked at me with raised eyebrows, made a few steps my direction, which made me make a few steps back automatically, making me almost feel like prey that was being stalked. Maybe not entirely wrong in all fairness.
"Speaking from experience?" he asked with a certain gleam in his eyes after half an eternity of just looking at me and stalking.
"Me?" I almost shrieked, and wasn't that already half a dead giveaway? "No," I went on, trying to be a bit more at ease and calm. But who was I kidding? He knew as well as I did that it was just a lie – much to my annoyance. But, if you are honest and realistic about it, wasn't it sort of normal that when having sex with your guy it wasn't always fireworks and stars? That after dating for a longer period of time you just…didn't get there anymore? Well at least not every single time?
"Not if he is doing his job right," I heard coming from him, seeming almost like he was taking it personal. And I figured I must have blurted out my thoughts once more. I really needed to work on that brain-to-mouth filter.
"So, not only does your guy cheat on you, but he also doesn't give you the pleasure you deserve?" he asked a second later, his breath hot against my ear. Oddly enough it didn't sound like a question though, but rather like a statement. Was I supposed to reply? Nod? Agree? Deny? My head was spinning and I wasn't sure whether it was because of what he had asked, what he ultimately might suggest or just his closeness and a rather intoxicating scent that attacked my nostrils all of a sudden. Thinking was becoming tough. Especially when he kept moving inches closer to me. There was something about his closeness that was incapacitating me to a certain degree and it was frightening. More frightening than this entire evening had so far been, but for entirely different reasons.
Up until this point, I wasn't even aware I deserved anything, as odd as it sounded. Well, anything except for that necklace. I felt the tiniest contact of his lips, barely gracing a sensitive spot of skin behind my ear and couldn't fight the goosebumps coming up.
"How about I show you how it should be done?" I heard the question and let out a deep moan just at the mental image. That seemed to be all the invitation he needed. He pushed me against the wall behind me, covering my body with his hard one a moment later. One of his legs moved between mine and parted them ever so slightly, pressing his knee just against the right spots. He leaned forward and a second later his lips sucked on the skin on my neck, making me shamelessly moan. His hands moved up my sides and grabbed my wrist along the way, pinning them effectively above my head against the wall. His lips travelled up, kissing and nibbing along my jaw until they found my lips and pressed softly against them.
I felt the tip of his tongue trace slowly over my lips, poking eventually and asking for entrance. And all of a sudden there was nothing soft about that kiss anymore. He took full control of everything, deepening the kiss within seconds and devouring me to his liking. I felt a hunger coming from that was I had never experienced in any guy I'd ever been with and slowly his hunger transferred to me and I gave as good as I took, meeting his force and need as an equal.
"This isn't one of these revenge thingies, is it?" I asked, almost dumbly, between kisses and slightly breathless. Here I was, with an insanely hot guy propositioning me (in a way) and I was trying to find reasons that counted as counter-argument? And maybe that was my initial problem. The carefreeness some people accused me off didn't seem to apply to every aspect of my life.
"Unless you are planning of filming us or making rather explicit pictures, I don't really see how this could turn into a 'revenge thingy'."
Holy hell, just that he mentioned something that I'd never agree to anyway but seemed incredibly hot put my mind into overdrive. All the possibilities.
I heard him laugh for a second and it was the first time he really did show any kind of emotion really. "I certainly won't oppose to whatever you can come up with," he almost whispered into my ear shortly before I felt his teeth nip at my earlobe, making me moan again.
"What I come up with?" I asked, almost impressed how I was still able to form a coherent thought.
"Weren't you all about equal opportunity earlier on when you broke in here and I caught you?" he asked, nipping once more at my earlobe and pressing his entire upper body into mine. My reaction was instant and the goosebumps that occurred on every inch of my skin were noticed by him, not doubt.
One of his hands let go of my wrist, just for the other hand to close around both wrists a second later. I felt his now free hand grace lightly over my neck, sides, gracing barely over my T-Shirt clad breasts and down my stomach, his lips lapping a second later once more at my neck.
His fingers moved up my body again, while his lips had found mine again, making me writhe against him, needing somehow more contact and almost craving his touch. I willed his hand into all sort of places on my body, but it seemed he had his own ideas where his fingers were to travel for now. The found patches of exposed skin, travelled under my clothes whenever they could and seemed to leave a trail of fire wherever they touched. I was starting to feel hot, a desire building up deep inside me, making me feel headless and light.
He let go of my wrists entirely and moved his hands low on my body, right below my ass, lifting me up without the slightest hesitation and driving me out of my mind with his demanding and almost overpowering kisses. I wrapped my legs around his body and held on for dear life, assuming this could only go two ways. Since I was still clad in every single piece of clothing, I figured right here, right now against this very wall was out of the question. Unless he of course would let me down again, but by the way he was holding on to me, it was less likely.
Surprisingly instead of carrying me off to God knows where, he pushed me back into the wall, plastering my body with his until there was no more space left between us. I don't know how long we stood like this and my mind was momentarily distracted by the question how long he could possibly hold me up like this without any problems, when he lifted me up a little further until my head was above his and I needed to seriously work to not loose connection to his lips.
I noticed how we started moving a moment later, my back no longer pressed against the wall, his hands holding firmer onto my ass and my legs therefore automatically wrapping themselves tighter around his waist. My hands framed his face, his kisses filling me with a need and desire that I felt like I needed to get even closer, like any inch closer would help me quench these intense feelings.
Carrying me through the dark hallways I only caught quick glimpses whenever I wasn't losing my mind from his kisses and the moonlight bathed us in light. After a few steps we seemed to have reached out destination which turned out to be the bedroom a few moments later.
He put me down on top of the bed and looked at me for a long moment, making me feel nervous for a second. I was used to rushed and quick actions, getting to the main event without any stops or detours, so him standing by the bed and just looking down at me was new. And the longer he stood there and looked at me the more nervous I became. Then, all of a sudden, he reached for the hem of his T-Shirt and removed it in one swift motion, making me grasp for a second. While it had been obvious that he was in very good shape and had a very good-looking physique, I somehow was still not prepared for the sight I was greeted by. Smooth skin which expanded over impressive muscles, upper arms that were just too inviting and made me quiet honestly watered my mouth and was that a freaking sixpack? For real? As a cop, Morelli was required to stay in shape, but he had nothing in the guy standing in front of me, looking like a GQ cover personified.
I could have spent a few hours just looking at him and being a happy camper, but he had other plans, and quiet honestly, so did I, come to think of it. Placing one knee on the mattress, his second leg followed and slowly he was crawling towards me, giving me once more the feeling of prey. Not that I minded.
The look in his eyes was pure desire mixed with heat and need and seemed almost like a promise. When he reached me, his lips connected instantly with mine, pushing my upper body down into the cushions a moment later. His hands latched onto my shirt and pulled, shocking me a second later when instead of pulling the shirt over my head, he simply ripped it of my body. Ripped! I never had a guy being so desperate for me that he ripped anything of me – regardless whether clothing or underwear. And just that action alone made me moan as well as feel a wetness between my legs that couldn't be ignored.
I'd like to say that after he had ripped my shirt of me, he was greeted by barely there dessous which consisted of lace or silk, but… I hadn't expected my night to turn out like that, so I was wearing a sports bra, which was the furthest away from sexy or seductive. Judging by the growl coming from him, I suppose he wasn't entirely excited about it either. But I somehow had no problem imagining him to make it work. He seemed determined enough.
While his hands slowly moved up my rip cage, caressing every inch of skin they came in contact with and finding eventually their way to my back and the clasp of the sports bra, my hands had gotten busy tracing every muscle and valley on his perfect skin until they reached the waistband of his trousers. His lips worked my lips, his hands my back and I was busy getting him out of his cargoes, succeeding after only a small eternity with the belt buckle. I would let out a shout of triumph when I finally worked them open had my lips – and mind – not been occupied with other things.
Pushing the material over his hips and ass, I was surprised to realize that under his cargoes was nothing but skin. He went commando. And wasn't that something that gave me flashed and tingles up and down my spine all over again? He abandoned my bra for a second, helping me with pushing the cargoes further down his body and I used that moment of distraction to turn us, which wasn't an easy feat since he was 250 pounds of pure muscle. Straddling him a second later, I reached behind me and worked the bra open within seconds, pulling it over my head and throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of the back of the bedroom. My lips found his again and his hands found the waistband of my jeans.
He worked the button open and pushed the fabric down my hips. In a movement I saw not coming, he turned us once more, having me laying beneath him. While his hands were busy shoving the fabric down my legs, his lips slowly started a descent of their own, nibbing their way down my jaw, collarbone, teasing first one nipple, then the other and continuing their way down. My navel was next, followed by my hips and then my left leg. The further down he got, the more he pushed fabric down my leg, until he had me out of my jeans.
My panties followed the same destiny as my t-shirt, being ripped of my body a second after he had me out of my jeans. The most shocking thing? I didn't care. I couldn't get myself to care since his actions had the same effect on me as earlier. I felt myself become even wetter than before and was wondering where the hell this was going to end? I mean, I knew where this was heading towards – obviously – but we hadn't even managed to get to the actual act and I was already losing my mind.
Before I could dwell on that thought for another moment, I saw more then felt him get seemingly very comfortable between my spread legs and before I could register what was about to go down, his head lowered right between my legs.
"Oh god," I just managed to say breathlessly, my hands fisting in his hair, directing his head exactly the way I felt I needed him in. He lapped and nipped, licked and sucked me out of my mind until I was certain I might pass out by the amount of desire and heat I was all of a sudden overcome with. When fingers entered the mix and me, I thought this was it, I was going to pass out any second now.
His fingers and mouth worked wonders and played me like an instrument, coaxing sounds out of me I hadn't been aware I was able of producing, pushing me higher and higher and higher again. I felt that familiar tingle in my lower regions, building up gradually and from deep within until I reached a point that made it impossible for me to hold on any longer and I came with a loud wail and scream, feeling heat wash all over me, covering me in a comfortable state of bliss and content.
My ankles were grabbed a moment later while I was still laying almost knocked out in front of him, spreading my legs further and pulling me towards him. I felt his body over mine, covering me with his body and his hands on my head, framing my face, his lips claiming my lips in a bruising and hard kiss that left no doubt about his desire and need. His lips moved once more to my neck, moving slowly down to my shoulders and eventually settling on a soft patch of skin between neck and shoulder, biting down a second later, leaving no doubt that by tomorrow that would turn into a bruise. He softly sucked that same patch of skin a second later, covering it in butterfly kisses a moment after that. I was confused with all the action and force, pain and caress and could only moan, my hands fisting once more in his hair.
He entered me hard and in one smooth motion, making me realize how big he was and how well he was stretching me. It hurt – in a good way – for a few seconds until I got used to his size and could enjoy this once more. And enjoying I definitely did.
"You might want hold on to something," I heard him almost laugh into my ear hotly, his breath tingling the soft skin on my lobe.
He moved gradually and at almost a lazy speed in and out of me, confusing me in regards of everything. As needy and desperate as he seemed before, now he was almost seeming like he had all the time in the world, enjoying each and every second and not being in a rush for anything. His hands found my arms, moved them so that they were spread to the side and a moment later, after his hands had smoothly glided up my arms, his hands linked with mine, while his lips kept kissing me almost lazily and his hips moved in a smooth and soft rhythm, pushing me once more further and further into nirvana.
For ages it went on like that, gradually and leisurely moving in union and a rhythm he set for the both of us. Slowly I heard his breath speeding up – or maybe that was mine – and the quiet room was only filled by our breathing and the slapping of skin against skin, by groans and moans and an occasional growl. He started moving quicker, his hands travelling down my body until I felt his fingers reach between us and applying pressure to my clit a moment later. His movements inside me as well as his fingers on my clit were timed perfectly, driving me insane with divine desire.
I felt my climax approach, but was shocked at the intensity it all of a sudden hit me with. I heard moaning and was hardly able to believe that this could be me, seeing that I was usually more on the quiet side when it came to sex. Yet, it definitely wasn't him. I was breathing hard, feeling my quickened pulse and heartrate as well as his. My skin was covered in sweat from head to toe and sticking to his deliciously, increasing the temperature and feeling of heat once more.
"One more," he breathed and I wasn't entirely sure what he was talking about for a moment and when I realized, I was about to shout "in your dreams" disbelievingly. But the joke was on me when I felt him not slow down for a second, but kept working me gradually into another orgasm, this one even more intense than the previous ones. I rode out my waves of pleasure, clenching around him, moaning and wishing for this to never end.
While I was still riding my high, I barely registered his movements speeding up and how his breathing came out harsh and laboured as well until he all of a sudden applied a force in his movements that was almost painful and yet somehow so delicious. Then his body went almost rigid and I heard a deep and low guttural growl, followed by moans and groans, his lips once more attaching themselves to my neck a second later, sucking as if his life depended on it.
He collapsed on top of me, keeping me trapped effectively underneath him, our hands linked once more. I heard his laboured breathing, which equalled mine.
"Wow," was all I could say, my expression more a single breath rather than an actual word.
I heard him laugh softly next to me and more breathing a moment later. "If that already impresses you, I can't start to imagine what you have been used to until now."
Better not get into that, I thought to myself, but heard him laugh next to me once more. Guess my thought had been spoken out loud once more.
"Babe," was all he said as reply, before he moved around, taking some of his weight of my body and pressing a soft kiss against my lips. While our previous kisses had mainly been about heat and passion, desire and need, horniness and yearning, this one felt different. It was soft and of a certain lazy nature, giving off a vibe of exploration and taking one's time. Like we had all the time in the world – which we probably had come to think of it.
The last thing I can remember before all of a sudden being overcome by a wave of tiredness and falling asleep a moment later, was the realization how deep his eyes were and how one could easily get lost in them.
Waking up several hours later, I was confused for a second, wondering where I was and what had happened. The memories came flashing back within seconds, making me realize it hadn't been just some crazy dream, but actually reality.
I felt a familiar pain in certain areas as well as need for the restroom a second later. During the last few hours he must have shifted, since I was no longer trapped beneath him but rather next to him. Detangling me carefully from him, I walked towards the only other door in the room and assumed that was most likely the bathroom. Being in luck, I took care of business and while washing my hands was shocked to see the necklace I had initially come here for hanging off the mirror I was right now looking at. Without thinking I grabbed the jewellery and walked back into the bedroom, seeing him still dead to the world.
For a second, I was contemplating going back to bed, joining him and seeing how this would play out in the morning, when both of us would be awake. But, who was I kidding? There was no playing out. I had come here for one thing – the one thing I was holding in my hand right now – and he had been a short distraction. I wasn't delusional and knew that this was just a one-time thing, something that couldn't be explained on how it actually happened or started, but… wasn't something that had any future. I was lucky enough that instead of being arrested and him calling the cops, this had been the course the night had taken. He was out of my league and after the crap Morelli had pulled, I figured I'd need time away from men.
Stumbling carefully and quietly around the room, I retrieved whatever clothes I actually could still wear, tracking down my jeans and finding my sports bra hanging from the ceiling fan. How the hell was I supposed to get it down from up there? From a ceiling that seemed impossibly high? I looked at it for a second before shrugging, realizing it was still dark outside and chances of running into someone were slim. My shirt was just shreds of cloth that I wouldn't be able to actually make work by just tying a knot. I knew that Catalina probably had nothing in her wardrobe that would fit me, seeing she was at least a head taller than me and a lot slimmer. So, I went for what I assumed was his closet and pulled out a black hoodie and left through the front door, one last glance at my companion.
Walking back to my car, clutching the necklace in my hand I wondered briefly what would happen once Catalina came back, but realized it was none of my business. I knew what I had to do with Morelli. Dump his sorry ass and get on with my life.
Getting into my car and driving off from this part of Trenton, I was all of sudden hit by a single realization. I had never even gotten his name.
Post-A/N: funnily enough, it was unintentional that she never got his name..But it works perfectly.