Warning: None. Rated T.

A/N: Thank you all for your feedback. We will continue as is…so continue to review as you can. If you all change your mind…I can always wrap it up sooner (in a nice bow) before moving on. :)

This chapter is going to split in between both of their points of view. I will break it up so you know when it switches between POV with our lead characters. Enjoy!

Chapter 11

Mark

Mark wanted to kill Addison Montgomery. He had tolerated her constant popping over unannounced for far too long. He knew he needed to keep her as a close ally, but this constant interference in his life was starting to irk him.

He knew that Addison had some kind of feelings for him. He could tell that from the moment he had laid eyes on her. When the academy asked him to get close to the Irish mob, she had been one of the women that had been on the list for him to seduce. He wasn't going to lie and say that she wasn't attractive, but he could tell from her profile she was one that was possessive and power hungry. At the time, he just needed a no strings attachment sort of arrangement, and not someone trying to use him as a way to work their way up the ranks.

Once he had claimed the leadership role, Addison's visits had become more frequent, her constant innuendo's that together they could be the most powerful crime couple increased. Unstoppable. With her being the head of the Italian's, he would have their allegiance forever.

The agency almost wanted to push that option, but Mark knew that it would be bad if he wanted to keep his cover intact. He also had no intentions of breaking his rule about no personal attachments. Addison Montgomery was a pretty woman, but she was not enough to tempt him. Not like Lexie Grey who he was well aware was currently sitting in his bedroom while he had to come back down here to play nice with her.

He didn't know what came over him back in the kitchen. The attraction; the pull to have her in his arms. For him to mark her so that no one would ever think about touching her again. It was possessive and primal, and he couldn't understand that need deep inside of him to want to march right back up to his bedroom and do it again.

The way that she clung to him right back. Met each stroke of his tongue with hers. They both seemed they couldn't get enough, that if they didn't keep kissing each other, holding on to each other, the other would disappear right from their very existence. That notion made him want to double over. All the punches, stabs, and pain from what Sergei Anatoly had done to him, wouldn't compare to what he was feeling if she walked away from him.

Over just a kiss.

The sound of the doorbell ringing, pulled him from those thoughts as he started to race back down the stairs and towards the front entryway of his home.

Mark saw Addison's bright red hair fanning around her shoulders as he approached the door, her seductive smile widening as she saw him come into view. Compared to the look that Lexie had given him only a few hours before, it was as if someone had dumped a cup of cold water directly onto his crotch.

What was happening to him?

He had never been this hot, this preoccupied over a woman before in his entire life. Not even before joining the academy; had he ever been interested in things like relationships and commitment, but yet, one look from Lexie Grey was already changing everything he thought he wanted. Already bringing him to his knees. He couldn't find the right type of words to put what it was that was happening between them.

He pulled the front door open. "Addison. To what do I owe this surprise?" he asked a little aggravated at her interruption to his date.

She did this thing with her lips that was more of a pout. He was sure it probably worked when it came to her father—and even some other men that weren't strong willed—but all it did was annoy him more than anything.

"And here, I came all this way just to check-up on you after I had heard what a disgusting and horrible thing the Russian's tried to do to you."

He gritted his teeth, trying to remember that keeping her as an ally was what he needed. Personal feelings aside. He needed to slip back into playing the role of Mark "The Protector" Sloan and not the man he liked being because of the woman that he was currently holding hostage upstairs in his bedroom.

He sighed, plastering a smile on his face, stepping aside to open the door wider so he could let her in. "How very thoughtful of you. Would you like to come in?"

Her answer had been a seductive smile. "Thank you," she said, stepping into his home, pulling her fur coat from her shoulders and handing it to him.

She strode in as if she already owned the place. As if she was the lady of the house. He closed his eyes, willing his anger to subside as he went through the motions of hanging her coat in his closet. His eyes caught a glimpse of Lexie's coat hanging directly next to hers and his stomach clenched again.

"It smells amazing in here," she said, turning back as she stood in between the foyer and his large family room. Her head turned, taking a look about the place. "Do you have company?"

"No," he lied. "My cook just made me a meal before I dismissed her for the night."

Addison tucked a piece of her fire-red hair behind her ear, her smile turning predatory. "Would you like some company?" Her voice was sultry. She wasn't just asking about company for dinner, but company in his bed as well.

He managed to sound both firm and apologetic in one shot. "I already ate. Besides, I am under strict doctor orders to take things easy."

Her whole demeanor changed, as she strode over to him in her long black high heels, her black pencil skirt, designed to make sure that her steps were slow to gain a man's attention. It had no effect on him. His eyes glanced back to his bedroom, hoping that Lexie wasn't really privy to any of this. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea about his professional relationship with Addison. As far as personal—there was none.

"Of course," she cooed. "All the more reason that I am glad I stopped by. Someone should be attentive to you. Make sure that you are ok," she said sweetly.

"I'm fine, Addison. I don't need anyone to care for me. I just need rest."

Her pout was back. Her skin was thicker than most mobsters he met. She didn't seem to take no for an answer, and when someone did tell her no, she would find alternate ways to go around and get what she wanted. Right now, her sights were set on trying to get him. No matter how many times he denied her or shut her out, she would find a way to keep pushing herself back in. It was frustrating and maddening.

Right now, he was enraptured—that was the right word for it—with the doctor that was waiting upstairs for him. The woman he so desperately wanted to get back to and pick up right where they had left off. Unlike every predictable woman he had ever met, Lexie Grey was anything but predictable.

"I can help you rest," she said suggestively.

"Addison…"

She let out an annoyed sigh. "Fine." She crossed her arms over her chest. Her pout was getting ready to turn into a tantrum, which was not only a turn off, but would make it more difficult to get her out of his home. "Would it kill you to have manners and offer me a drink? I do have some important news to share."

He gritted his teeth, but plastered a smile anyway. "Of course. How rude of me. I'll be right back."

"I love it that you know what I love to drink," she called after him, as he started to move towards the kitchen.

He would pour her one glass of wine, get whatever information she had out of her and then get her right back out the door. He worried the longer the Italian red-head stayed and kept up her insinuations about them doing anything remotely personal together, would make Lexie want to run right back out the door. That should be what he wanted, but it wasn't. For once, he was starting to want to do one thing that was selfishly. His inner instincts and guard be dammed.

He heard Addison's heels on the tile, clicking loudly as she found herself in the kitchen. "Have I ever told you how much I love this house?"

He put the cork back in the wine and put in back in the fridge. "Many times," he muttered.

She took the glass of wine and took a sip. "All it really needs is a women's touch."

Not happening.

"Why don't we go back into the other room and you can tell me about whatever it is you want to tell me."

He wasn't going to let her sidetrack the conversation as an opportunity to get what she wanted from him personally. He strode back into the family area, turning so his arms were crossed against his chest—Addison coming to sit on the larger sofa, bringing her leg to cross over her other. It wasn't exactly the most primly way to do it—no doubt her attempt to try and be seductive—but he kept his eyes glued to hers.

"What is it that you wanted to tell me, Addison?"

She inhaled through her nose, before letting it out, her eyes traveling around the room. "I may have heard some whispers about what happened to you. About Sergei. About the Russian's plans afterwards," she said taking a sip of her wine.

If this was why she had stopped by, he was going to have a hard time holding back his anger and annoyance. "Sergei's been dealt with."

A cat like grin spread across her lips. She put her wine glass down on the side table next to her, pushing off the couch until she strode over to him, her finger trailing down his shoulder and arm. "I can't tell you how sexy and what a turn on it is when a man takes care of business."

His hand came down on top of hers, squeezing before he gently pushed her away. "I met with the Russian's today. They no longer have any plans unless those plans come directly from me," he said, making it very clear to her and whomever she would go back and speak to, so they understood that directly.

"For now. You and I both know that retribution will be wanted."

His eyes narrowed. "Retribution? I could have every single one of them killed with a snap of my fingers. I should. They are lucky I allow them to keep breathing."

She stalked up to him again, her palm flattening against his chest. He didn't know who he was madder at in this moment, the Russian's inability to know when to keep their damn mouth shut, or the fact that Addison wasn't getting the hint that he didn't want anything to do with her in that way.

She smirked, her eyes twinkling. "It's one of the things I love about you, Markie. That you are so giving and compassionate when you don't have to be."

He stepped back, turning away so her hand fell from his chest. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I have it under control. I will deal with the Russians."

She moved around him so she was facing him again. "Oh, I know you will. I just thought maybe I could help you. Offer you another alternative."

"Help me how?"

"By creating an alliance. Joining forces," she answered, her word accenting the joining in a way he didn't like.

He knew what her thoughts on joining forces meant. It meant that they would become an item. Addison Montgomery had ideas of them becoming the next Bonnie and Clyde, and he had no intentions of hitching his wagon to hers. Ever.

"No," he said immediately.

She came at him again, this time he blocked her from being able to put her hands on him, earning another protest from her. "You can't tell me that you and me together would not be a bad thing. I am already loyal to you, but you would have my entire organization at your disposal. No one would ever be stupid enough to even attempt what the Russian's tried to do," she argued.

He shook his head. "I'm the head of the criminal underworld, Addison. I already command that type of respect. Besides, you deserve to marry someone other than for an advantage point. You deserve to marry because you love the person."

Her eyes flashed with excitement. "Exactly."

He closed his eyes, and let out an exasperated sigh. "Addie, we've been through this before. I'm not the marrying type. I am not interested."

"Because you won't let yourself try," she protested. "We could be great together. I'm sure of it. Your power and dominance, and my need to please…"

"Addison…"

She bit her lip. "Katherine told me about you. About your time together."

Shit. He knew this was bound to happen. Katherine—the one he had spent time with—would eventually tell others about their time together. They both wanted to keep things casual, and once he got what he needed, and she had started to change her mind about wanting to be closer to him, he pulled back and ended the mutual time they had together.

"I am not going to do this with you, Addison. I love our business relationship the way it is. I don't want to do anything to change what is already working so well for us."

She stomped her foot, but she got the message that by the note in his tone and expression in his features he wasn't going to budge on that. When she responded this time, her words were more clipped, her expression set out as this being another challenge.

"Fine. But one of these days, Mark Sloan, you will change your mind. And I will be waiting," she said confidently.

Before he could respond, she stormed towards his front hallway, throwing open the coat closet to grab her coat. Before he could stop her, he could tell she had seen another woman's coat hanging in there next to hers. Her eyes narrowed, looking back at him and then the rest of the house, before she pursed her lips, threw her coat over her shoulders, and walked out of his home.

Lexie

Lexie hated Addison Montgomery the more she looked at her. Or, Addie as she heard Mark call her at least once throughout their conversation.

Addison Montgomery was model like pretty with her long red hair, striking hazel eyes, and firm skin that she was sure was like a rubber band—she could stretch it and it would snap back to being tight again. She had a rather bountiful chest, an hourglass figure, and an ass that Lexie was sure Kim Kardashian would be jealous over. She wore a white fitted button-down blouse that was unbuttoned so that her breasts were practically jumping out into Mark's face, and a black tight pencil skirt that went past her knees with a slit in the back, showing off her toned thighs.

I officially hate her.

The only somewhat comforting thing, was that Mark didn't seem to notice her though. He barely even glanced at her open display of goods, his glance ever so often looking over in her direction—making her have to lean back so he wouldn't catch her peeking—where she was hiding anytime Addison's eyes were undressing him or not looking at him directly.

Lexie had to fight to roll her eyes at the woman's attempt to act as if her stopping by was the most innocent thing there. Lexie knew better. Not like she could blame the woman. Mark was the kind of man you would want to do anything to find a reason just to come by and talk with him. Including baking him cookies just as a way to say they were thinking about him and how he was feeling.

So, that was how she was using her in. The attack from the Russian's and the fact that he had been injured. If she had been so worried about his health and what had happened, why hadn't she visited him in the hospital? She knew at first that no one knew, but when Derek had advised it had been leaked, she could have come. Lexie would have remembered if she had stopped by to see him. She wouldn't forget her face.

She was glad that she hadn't stopped by, since Lexie knew full well what her intentions were in coming to see him. Her come fuck me look she was constantly sending him, and the fact that she was practically on full display for him, made her want to vomit.

Okay…she was jealous. She had no right to be. Mark wasn't hers. She wasn't his. She had no claim on him whatsoever…but that kiss…that kiss not long ago made her feel that there was really something that could be between them. She had never experienced it before, and if she was reading him correctly…she guessed he hadn't either.

What distressed her the most, was that Addison was the kind of woman she could picture Mark should be with. With him being the mob leader, and undercover agent, he needed someone that was just as powerful and confident as Addison was seeming to be. Even though—unlike him—she was actually into illegal crime—she could probably bet his agency would be all about it if it meant giving them more of an advantage to their operation.

She tried not to get her hopes up in thinking that her mind was playing tricks on her. It looked as if Mark was trying to say he was happy she was there, but to her, after the couple of days she spent with him…the smile seemed forced. It didn't really seem to reach his eyes, like it did when he looked at her.

At least she was hoping that was the case.

There was a slight edge in his voice as he contemplated her being thoughtful for checking in on him, and inviting her into his place. Maybe it was because she was upstairs, or maybe it was generally because he had no care to see her, but right now, she was having a hard time deciphering between the two.

She turned that seductive smile onto him. One that Lexie had seen thousands of times at the hospital before. Anytime a female patient thought that Avery or Karev were cute and they wanted to be something other than their medical patient—they would give them that smile. Avery of course had April, but Alex…he always had no problem blurring the lines between patient and doctor—waiting until they were ready to be discharged before he would drop his pants.

As Lexie peeked around the corner, she watched the red head strut around the house as if she was comfortable here. As if she had been here many times before. That deep seed jealousy low in her gut was making her start to question again whether there had ever been any romantic relationship between the two of them. From what she could see, Addison clearly wanted one.

Her heart clenched; when Addison asked if he had any company after the house still smelled lovely from his dinner. His reply seemed so casual and easy off his lips. Like anything they had shared before she showed up hadn't been special whatsoever.

He doesn't believe it. He doesn't believe it.

She smacked her hand to her forehead, feeling like such an idiot. Why was she behaving this way? They were here just on a first date. They only shared a single kiss up until now. None of what she was feeling was truly making any sense.

If felt like someone was stabbing into her with a white-hot iron when Addison asked if he wanted company. She was hoping he wouldn't say yes, but if he did…that she was able to at least leave the house first before she ultimately had to think about what kind of company, she would be offering him. As it was, her look and way she was strutting towards him said it all.

Her posture only relaxed slightly when his firm voice came back without even an ounce of wavering in it when he turned her down. She felt that little hidden meaning deep down when he mentioned doctors' orders—obviously referring to her. The fact that his glance came up in her direction had her fighting to keep the smile from her lips.

That smile was short lived as she stocked Mark, like she was the predator and he was the prey. Using her heels to accentuate her already long legs as a means to get his attention. His expression was deadpan, almost aloof as he once again looked up in the direction of where she was hiding. Was he worried that because she was there, she was ruining his chances with Addison, or just guilty that she was here when he wanted a chance with Addison? Either way, she hated that Addison was down there and she was up here hiding.

Addison's look and note in her voice were turning more purposeful, not having a hard time clearly expressing what it was that she wanted from Mark.

"Yeah, I bet you'll be attentive to him," she muttered to herself.

Mark turned her down yet again, but the red-head had a hard time taking no for an answer. Is this what she would be instore for if she decided to explore anything further with Mark? Woman in general were one thing, but these woman in the mob seemed to be completely a different story. They saw an chance for power and opportunity and they wanted to grab a hold of it. Did Addison even care about Mark, or only what he could provide to her?

Addison was more brazen now that Mark had practically rejected her twice in a nicer way. Now, she was openly offering to take him to bed. At this point, she just wanted Addison to go so she could go. Get out of this situation. This was too much feelings for her, too fast.

Addison having sensed she might have pushed him too far, changed her tactics and asked for a drink. As Mark left the room, she rushed over to her purse, pulling out her compact and lipstick, reapplying another thick coat of a similar red color that Lexie had applied earlier in the evening. Lexie wondered if Mark would find the color just as thrilling on Addison as he had obviously had on her.

Addison smiled into her compact, her hand clamping the lid shut, as she bit her lip and looked off into what Lexie knew was the kitchen area. This woman was downright ruthless and conniving, and everything Lexie was not.

Her heart started thumping louder once Addison put her belongings back in her purse and strode into the kitchen after him. He said he would be right back. That means stay there. She groaned debating whether to leave the room even though Mark asked her to stay hidden. The want and need to know what was happening in the kitchen was making her crazy. She could hear their muffled voices coming from the room, but she was too far away to know what was actually being said.

A few moments later, they both entered back into the family room. Mark looked more exasperated then when he had last left, only making her feel a little bit better that it seemed the red-head was grating on the last of his patience. He stood opposite of her, while she took a seat on his sofa, her looks she was shooting him still clearly indicating what she really wanted.

Finally, she told him the other reason—her secondary reason—for why she had come over. It had to do with the Russian's and what went down after Mark was injured. She was hinting at the fact that she might know something he didn't know. That there were possible additional plans to bring him some harm.

Mark used that dangerously low voice she had only heard one time before. His authoritative mob voice that indicated his movements and decisions were not to be questioned and anyone that did, would pay the price. Like Sergei Anatoly—who Mark had just indicated—had been dealt with. Addison no doubt figured that would mean Mark had him killed, but Lexie knew the truth behind where he really was.

And now, she was back to the first and real reason she was here. Talking about how sexy he was—because he was—and how forward she was being in letting him know that the ruthlessness of the possibility that he had killed someone was a turn on for her. That should tell her all that she needed to know. Deep down, she couldn't see Mark being attracted to that kind of thinking. He was a cop. He helped people. He saved people. He ensured the law was followed, not broken.

The touch wasn't loving or sexual, but even seeing the quick interaction of his hand touching hers and squeezing it before he gently pushed her away, still made her want to vomit. That voice in the back of her head growled and immediately shouted: He's mine.

They bickered, Addison stalking over to him, again finding a way to touch him, this time her hand on his chest. She broke into a grin her words stopping Lexie short.

"It's one of the things I love about you, Markie."

Love? Markie?

There it was. The true purpose that Addison had come to his home. She was offering not only an alliance but a partnership in more ways than one. She not only wanted to be Mark's business partner, but his life partner—his lover. Lexie should have caught it earlier with how much she was throwing herself at him. She just thought it was about wanting him for sex, but now she could see the little bit of vulnerability on the woman's face.

Lexie still wasn't uncertain that part of Addison wanted him mostly for what he could do for her from a position standpoint in the mob, but that she could have the best of both worlds when it came to Mark. Addison confirmed that and Lexie's fears a few seconds later, when she referenced some other woman—that Addison obviously had a friendship with—that Mark had obviously had a sexual relationship with.

Maybe Meredith, her mother, and even some at the hospital—Karev specifically—had been right about her inability to want to tackle the tough situations. To push through when she might not like what the end result might be. Maybe that was why she ended up choosing neurosurgery to begin with. Most of the time, the cases she would see were already terminal and chances of saving the patient were slim to none. It would truly be hard to show anyone disappointment when they expected that it had been a lost cause anyway. If she saved a patient, it was a miracle. There was science behind why she was able to do it—not because of her skill.

Maybe that was why she was trying so hard to save the patients that were already written off. Like her ballerina case. None of the other neurosurgeon's even wanted to touch the case, but she was stubborn to want to prove that she could be better, that her specialty could do better. Would Meredith be right though—she would just end up butchering her patient instead of giving her all the time she could have to live as normal as possible before the inevitable would happen?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Mark declined her offer, saying she should marry for love. To which Addison so casually replied that she was basically in love with him. Mark's response wasn't what she had been hoping for. He didn't give her any indication that he wanted her, but his response was cryptic. His no wasn't because he wasn't interested or didn't love her back, but because he wasn't the marrying type.

Was that true? It wasn't like Lexie had ever thought about marriage before, medicine being the only thing that had been on her mind. Now, as she even thought about it in this split second, even her parents whose marriage had turned out so bad in the end, she knew she still wanted to one day get married and have kids.

So, if that was the case…then what was she doing with Mark Sloan? How many times had he already pushed her away? Told her in so many laymen terms that he didn't do personal attachments. That he couldn't be interested in anything other than casual. As much as she tried to tell herself she was just open to casual, she was ok with just having a little fun—that was never who she truly was.

It was why, she had been single for so long. Yeah, she had an occasional hook up—all of two times—but realized that kind of thing was never for her. She wanted relationships. She needed to have some connection, some feelings if she was going to be with someone. Sleeping around was just never something she could or wanted to do.

But that is who Mark Sloan is.

She frowned at that. She was already having strong feelings for him. She was already having a hard time walking away from him. If she didn't end things now between them, it would only get harder, and then she would be the one with the broken heart when he walked away and ended things. She would be the only one to blame, because he had always been upfront and honest that personal attachments were not his thing.

She tuned back into the conversation, whatever he had said had done the job, because Addison's expression turned to rage, stomping her foot as she uttered him a single promise that one day, he would change his mind. One day he would come running to her. A day or time that Lexie did not want to be around to ever witness or know.

She waited a few minutes after hearing the door slam behind Addison, her heels on the walkway as she strutted down his house. Lexie, bolted from his room, feeling the need to get out of here as fast as possible before they made this more difficult for either of them.

Mark was already making his way to her, stopping at the edge of the steps as she started to run down them. His expression was something of surprise, before his eyes narrowed, seeing what she was going to do written all of her expression.

"I, uh, need to get going. I have an early day tomorrow, and it's getting kind of late," she announced.

She could tell he didn't believe her anymore than she didn't believe herself. It didn't matter, it was self-preservation at this point. She descended the last couple of stairs, coming to stand right in front of him. He made no move to step out of the way, or let her pass.

"Don't go," he said, his voice so soft and pleading. He looked and sounded nothing like the Mark she was used to seeing. All confident and sure of himself.

She faltered on her feet. "I…I should…it's been a long day, and we both could really use the rest."

His gaze didn't let up, he didn't even bat an eye, challenging her with his next response. "You're running. If you're going to run, then just say so, but don't feel the need to lie to me."

She looked up into his eyes, with the intention of doing that, but then her words died in her throat. "This isn't what we both wanted or needed. You have a job and need to keep yourself available, and I have my important work as a surgeon. It's best we just stop anything from happening now."

He leaned in. "Is that what you really want?" He paused, when she parted her lips to tell him that it was, before he made sure to add, "because if that is what you want, I will respect that, but don't speak for me. Don't tell me what I want."

"W—what do you want?"

She couldn't help herself. She had to know. She didn't know if it would make a difference, but she still had to know.

"I don't want you to go. I don't want you to run away. And I am trying really hard right now to not want to kiss you."

She had to stop herself from throwing herself at him, because she wanted all those things too. Just because she wanted them didn't mean it quieted her earlier fears. It would be great for tonight, and even maybe for the few times when they would see each other, but when the inevitable time came that he would need to end things, she didn't know if she would be able to walk away still whole.

"What are we doing here, Mark? We both know all you have wanted to do is push me away. Your job…the fact that you keep telling me it's dangerous. You had to hide me just now because of it. You have woman like that—"

"Is that what this is really about?" he asked cutting her off. "Are you leaving because of Addison? I assure you I am not interested in ever being with her."

The way he was looking at her, she believed him, but there was still that doubt there. Doubt that even through all of that, it might not be enough.

"I—I think you were right. We are two different people, from two different worlds. I don't see how either of us are going to be able to make it work. It's best we just end it now, before it gets any worse," she noted.

"Okay. If that's what you want," he said. "Just answer me this. Is that what you really want?"

Her mouth went to open to say it, but the words didn't come out. Instead, her eyes went to his mouth. Her look was betraying her and telling him that it wasn't what she wanted. That what she really wanted was for him to kiss her again just like he had in the kitchen. To take away all of her fears and insecurities that had just reared their ugly head in the last hour or so.

Mark was so entuned to her like no else had been before. He could easily read her emotions and know what she was thinking before she had to even say it out loud.

His hand came up to caress her cheek, the back of his fingers grazing there for a moment, before sinking into her hair, pulling her towards him, kissing her passionately. Unlike the other two kisses from before—that were more like foreplay—this kiss left no uncertainty between them. Left no questions as to what Mark Sloan wanted. She knew that even through all the defenses she was desperately trying to put up…she wanted the exact same thing.

Kissing him was both exhilarating and scary at the same time, because he was already making her an addict. The need to want more, before her current fix even wore off. She was certain as his tongue grazed her lips asking her to open up that she would never have enough of this.

He took over the kiss, like he had everything else since the moment she met him. Sucking her lower lip in his, his teeth nibbling on it, causing another breathy moan to escape her throat. His hands tightened on her hair, only causing her breaths to come quicker. He was turning her on more with his kissing then she had ever been turned on in the throes of sex itself.

After a second, whether he sensed they needed to pull back before they both went past the point of no return—or because he really wanted to make sure she was comfortable—he stopped the kiss, releasing her lips.

Her lips were swollen again. She could feel that her face was flushed—with her pale skin it was hard to hide—her eyes having a hard time focusing again on her surroundings around her. It was as if anytime she started kissing Mark Sloan, she was enveloped in a fog that just took over every common-sense decision in her brain…just urging her to stay where she was and enjoy what her body so desperately wanted—needed.

"What were we talking about again?" she murmured coming out of a lustful haze.

He didn't kiss her on the lips again, but he bent down and kissed her just under her ear, trailing his kisses down the side of her cheek and to her jaw, just stopping before he started to go down her neck. She fought back the moan this time, because if she didn't, she knew both of them would be lost and stripped of their clothes.

"If you wanted this. If you wanted me," he answered his voice rough and raspy.

She should say no. She should go back to what she had argued earlier. Because she knew that eventually, something would happen, something would make him spook and want to push her away. She could see that constant struggle inside of him, because it was within herself. If she allowed herself to fall deeper then she already was, and he pushed her away…she didn't know if she could pick up the pieces and walk away.

That scared her more than anything.

As her heart and mind battled between each other on what to do…she knew her heart had already won out and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"Yes…yes, I want this. I want you."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed.