Prompt #5: The crackling of a fire on a chilly night…

We are Embers, You and I

~oOo~

Finishing up the last of the DD5s, Amanda sits quietly and contemplates what to do next. In the past, she wouldn't have hesitated to shoot off a text to tell Carisi she's heading home, to suggest he meet her there to make dinner for her and Jesse, have a beer, and watch some really bad reality TV. The quick phone calls and half-confessions about things more personal than job-related topics now make her wonder if she really destroyed her closest friendship, if he'll just be done with her outside of the job. If he'll be done with her flimsy excuses to see him, done with the flirty little games they've played. She's not even sure if it's entirely appropriate for her to call outside of work hours anymore. She hates this, being so out of tune with him, feeling so lost, without the certainty of a friend… without the certainty of Sonny.

Oh, Amanda most definitely made the right choice saying good night to him outside her motel room door in West Virginia for quite a few reasons, but to be so stupid, careless, so indiscreet with that bartender, hurting Sonny that way, was cruel and unforgiveable. He's been, stiff and cold to her for over a week now and Amanda feels… she feels a little heartbroken. It's surprising to her, this emotion regarding her best friend. It's the only word she can come up with to describe it. Heartbroken. Frankly, she needs to sit with these feelings to figure out why she's tinged with sadness and regret for doing what she did, for doing what she's done in the past… and why all she wants to do right now is get Sonny to smile with her again.

When Amanda's phone vibrates, she thinks it's her sitter texting with an update on Jesse. This reminds her that she should get her ass in gear and go home instead of sitting here lamenting her poor decisions. When she sees his name lighting up the lock screen, though, it's as if the bottom drops out on the downhill of a roller coaster. Her nervousness makes her chuckle to herself. She thinks, "Get a grip, Amanda. It's only Carisi," but something feels very different.

- U home?

- Just leaving work now

- Ok if I relieve the sitter? I'll start dinner.

Ok, wow, Amanda, just breathe. A heat radiates from the center of her chest. It's like he hears her thoughts and makes them come to life. They are thinking the same thing tonight, missing each other tonight. That's a level of sexy Amanda has never experienced before. With an extra sense of urgency now, Amanda shuts down her computer and clears off her desk for the night knowing that not only is Jesse at home waiting for her, but so is Carisi… and she likes the way that makes her feel.

- Ok. Sounds great. I'll text her now.

- See you soon.

By the time Amanda turns the key to her apartment door, Sonny has Jesse in the highchair with the remnants of a grilled cheese and some strawberries on her tray and he's talking her through everything he's doing. Amanda steps into the hallway, remaining out of view, and listens to the timber of his voice entertaining her baby girl. He speaks softly in a sing-song at times and Jesse periodically interjects and giggles, but mostly she just listens to the sound of him… like her Momma does. Her little girl's giggles make him laugh and they make Amanda cry. The lump in her throat is also something new in this context and she realizes that no matter how much she tries to control things, where Carisi is concerned she flies blind.

"Hey there, happy girl. How's my baby?"

"We were… uh… just havin' a little… conversation."

"I heard. Sounded like very important business."

"Yeah… yeah, it was. Thanks for getting' that paperwork done. I'll fill ya in on what Fin and I found out at the warehouse later. Go change. Ya have time before food's ready."

~oOo~

The awkward silence sets in now that Jesse isn't buffering the situation. Kitchen is clean, leftovers are stored, and the toddler is bathed and down for the night. Carisi takes his place on the couch, the same spot he's always sat, and the butterflies begin again for Amanda. She hands him a beer before sitting at the opposite end.

"I'm… a little surprised that you… uh… wanted to come over."

"I missed Jesse."

Ouch. That's deserved. She feels nauseous. Had the situation been reversed, Amanda may not have been so gracious, so grown up about it. She'd have asked for a change, may have asked Liv for a break from this partnership so she could go off and lick her wounds. Yet, here he is, in her home, feeding her, missing her baby.

"Amanda, I'm sorry… I didn't mean… that wasn't… that came out wrong."

"I'm the one who… who should be apologizing. I am sorry, really. I am. I hurt you. I… I hurt me."

"Don't. I'm a big boy. I'll get over it."

"Well, for the record… it was a stupid idea…"

Unable to meet his eye, Amanda takes a swig from her beer bottle. They sit in silence, breathing until their inhales and exhales are completely in sync. She's noticed that happens in the squad car sometimes.

"Look, 'Manda, can we just forget… this feels shitty. I don't wanna be like this… not with you."

"Yes, please… It wasn't even… worth feeling… this bad over."

"Oh… well… different choice, different results… I mean… if you're ever… up against that decision again."

He looks over and she's smirking behind her Stella. Slowly, testing the change in energy, he smiles, too, and for the first time in more than a week they laugh together.

"Noted, Detective… and maybe… just a little bit curious now. You staying for a while? Want to watch a movie?"

"Yeah, sure… but… uh…there's actually somethin' I want ta ask ya…"

"Oh boy… sounds serious."

"Nah… it's not… my parents are away for a couple-a weeks. They… uh… they went ta Italy and the house is empty. I thought maybe… ya know, you, Jess and Frannie would wanna stretch out, take advantage-a the yard, get outta the city… with the scheduled day off on Monday… good weather predicted…"

"That actually sounds amazing."

"Yeah? Ok… good."

~oOo~

Amanda pulls in the driveway and turns off the car. Both Frannie and Jesse are quietly checking out the view from the windows in the back. Taking a minute to tamp down the edge of disappointment that Carisi isn't here, she musters the energy to start unloading the Jeep. When he brought up the whole weekend away from the city, Amanda thought he was asking her to spend time with him, but then he texted directions and told her where to find a key and the code to the alarm system. The disappointment hit her like a physical punch until she realized that what she did to him in West Virginia with Buck was low and made her look cheap. Of course, Carisi wasn't over it that easily, wouldn't want to spend a weekend away with her. He's too good, too honest and sweet to want to carry her baggage like that.

Getting acclimated and relaxing happens quicker than she anticipated. There is something so welcoming about Serafina and Dominick Carisi's home, even empty, that wraps her up in a happiness she doesn't recognize having never had a home life like this one. For this weekend, she will pretend this is her home, and if she has a pretend husband who, in her imagination, takes the form of Detective Sonny Carisi, so what? She's allowed to fantasize. The fact that she was so close to her fantasies… those fantasies… becoming reality, so close to knowing what being underneath Carisi feels like, how the warmth of his skin feels on hers, how the shape of him would fill her mouth, fill her body, is not lost on her. Maybe, some things are better off not knowing. The hurt has got to be less this way, for both of them, when he realizes he can do better.

"Hey, Jesse girl, how about a bath? Huh? We'll splash a little before getting' our pjs on."

Amanda and her daughter giggle and laugh and splash soaking her tee-shirt, sweatpants and the floor. Pulling off the offending clothing, she uses them to sop up the puddle they've created on the tiles. Jesse's squeals and laughter are so boisterous, Amanda fails to hear the SUV pull into the driveway right below the little open bathroom window. Their giggles are so silly and joyful, Amanda cannot hear the big wooden front door open and close, nor can she hear the footfall on the staircase up to the second floor. Amanda sings "Old McDonald" so theatrically with Jesse noisily imitating animal sounds that she cannot hear the sexy tenor of a man's voice say her name just before filling the doorway to the bathroom where she sits on the floor next to the tub playing with her daughter in a white lacy bra and panties soaking wet.

Amanda's head snaps around and she screams. The little girl cries. And Carisi is speechless staring at Amanda Rollins in a wet bra and panties.

"I… I'm… shit! Amanda, I'm sorry. I made noise. I called ya name. I stomped up the stairs."

"Shit. Fuck, Carisi. We're ok. It's ok, Jesse. It's just Uncle Sonny. Look, baby, It's only Uncle Sonny."

"Hi, Unca Sonny," Jesse says tearfully.

Amanda rises and lifts the slippery and frightened little girl from the bath water, rocking Jesse against her chest and shoulder. Sonny snaps out of his gawking and wraps Jesse in a towel. As Amanda soothes her physically, Sonny is close with one of his large hands on Jesse and the other flat on Amanda's back. She is aware of every single point of contact he has on her skin. His voice is low and gentle in Amanda's ear as he talks Jesse out of her upset.

"Hey, Jess," he coos softly. "I didn't mean ta scare ya. You were havin' so much fun that ya didn't hear me comin' up… but now that I'm here, we're gonna have a great weekend. How about we get ya dried and dressed, huh? Ya Ma is… uh… really, really… wet…and uh… it's uh… chilly…," he says as he takes Jesse from Amanda and loses all focus as his eyes fall to her pebbled nipples visible through the wet lace of her bra.

Amanda is frozen in place watching him as his eyes travel across her breasts and up to her own baby blues. They stand like that for what seems like an eternity, the energy between them sizzling. She doesn't even have the sense to pretend to be modest because, truth be told, she loves how his eyes on her make her feel. A happy shriek and some clapping from Jesse snaps them out of this sex-tinged haze. Saying nothing, Amanda turns and leaves.

Closing the bedroom door behind her, Amanda falls against it. It's the only thing holding her up. She's trying to process what just happened, not so much on his end because she's clear on his feelings after he tried to kiss her outside that seedy motel room, but more about why she's on fire right now. And why the hell is he even here?

Dried off and clothed again having gotten a bit of distance from the situation, Amanda follows Sonny and Jesse's voices to the room furnished with a crib.

"Hey, she's good ta go. Footie pajamas, hair combed and ready for bed."

"Thank you. What are you doing here?"

"Wha… whadaya mean? I told ya I'd be a little late. That's why I sent ya the alarm code and where ta find the key."

"Carisi, you never said that. I thought you weren't…"

"Do… do ya… want me ta go?"

"NO! No. I'm just saying that you texted all the instructions but not that you'd be here. I thought… I… I'm happy… glad… you're here."

"I musta been distracted. If ya sure ya want me ta stay, how about I get dinner started?"

"I'd love that, actually, and Sonny, I'm sure," she smiles feeling bubbles of… something nice in her chest.

She takes Jesse from him and lets her hand linger on his arm and meeting his eyes again, she smiles a shy smile that causes his breath to hitch before he pats her hand, kisses Jesse's downy head and goes to the kitchen.

~oOo~

"Mmm, smells delicious."

"Thanks. Baby down?"

"Yeah, she was knocked out. I read to her and she dozed right off. I miss the days when she still nursed. Made it so easy to cuddle her to sleep."

Unconsciously, when Amanda said "nursed", Sonny's eyes flitted to her breasts, lingered a beat and looked away again just as quickly. His cheeks reddened and Amanda felt a now familiar swoopy feeling in her belly.

"C'mon. I'm gonna put these steaks on the grill. We'll eat outside."

"Can I help carry anything?

"There's a bottle-a red on the counter. Glasses in the corner cabinet over the toaster."

Amanda sat sipping from her glass, watching him at the barbeque. She's used to the way he moves at work, familiar with how he navigates the squad room, how his fingers cradle a pen. But this… seeing the way after-hours Carisi moves in a place where he's comfortable hits different. He's less awkward, less nervous. Seeing him in the home, in the yard, where he grew up adds a layer to how he glides around her tiny kitchen. This is where Carisi feels most himself, she can see it. He is unapologetically Sonny. He belongs here. He's confident and completely in charge. She likes him here, showing her a side of him, the man of the house side of him, that she's never seen. It's sexy.

"Earth to Rollins. Ya with me?"

"What?"

"Where'd ya go," he chuckles.

"I was thinking… what did I miss?"

"I asked if ya liked what ya see. You were starin'."

"Oh, I… I was…"

With a deep breath, she answered.

"You… look good here, Carisi… different. You're relaxed. You're… softer, easy. It's nice."

Those eyes, now twinkling with an edge of mischief and fun, lock her in and pull her closer to the flame she's been trying to avoid. Amanda knows if she gets too close, she won't merely be warmed in the most delightful ways, she will get burned. It's a game, one too dangerous to play with this man. His smile hints at things she doesn't know about him but would desperately like to.

"Let's eat."

He plates the food with a finesse that she admires. It's just the two of them, yet he's careful and deliberate and makes the whole dining experience special. It feels… intimate, like a date. She's so used to eating out of cartons and containers, reheating leftovers or frozen food. This feels rich and warm and homey. This is a meal for conversation and smiles and long glances, not for planting herself in front of a TV.

"Carisi, this… it's delicious. You didn't have to go to the trouble. I was going to just order in once Jesse was asleep."

"Seriously… the thirty minutes was worth the appreciation and the look on ya face right now."

"You shouldn't be this nice to me… not after what I did."

"We gonna talk about it? Really talk? Because if we aren't gonna be honest and say all the words, I'd rather say none and have another glass of wine."

She cuts a piece of steak and chews on it, contemplating the gauntlet he threw down. Could be a very interesting weekend if they talk their way through this, or it could be a disaster and ruin the tenuous friendship they're working toward healing.

"Can we agree on both… talking and wine? That formula worked for us in West Virginia. It was… fun being with you away from here… where we were… just… us."

"I'm good with that."

"We were in a bar fight, Carisi. A bar fight… with burly guys and neither of us got hurt."

"Well… at least not by the burly guys."

It was like a sucker punch. She's not used to him dealing those and they sting when he lands one. He has every right. He really does. She's walked over him too many times, even in jest, making him look foolish in front of Fin or Amaro. That's not really her style, and it never sat right with her when she played along or inflicted a wound in that way. He's earned a few shots at her.

"I'm sorry… I am. I said it before, I'll say it again, it was stupid. Carisi, not kissing you outside my motel room door was the right choice… that night, those circumstances. We drank too much… the adrenalin… it would have been too easy to…"

"To? Fuck?"

"No, Carisi. Not fuck. It wouldn't have ever been just a fuck. To fall… it feels like we're walking a line here… or… or maybe we're not and I'm off base, imagining things."

She swigs down the rest of the wine in her glass and shivers from the evening breeze. He collects their plates and disappears into the house without saying anything and she's left with her insecurities and doubts. When he returns, he's got a blanket, a Firestarter log and another bottle of the merlot.

"I'm gonna grab a few logs from the shed. Open that bottle."

Again, she's struck by this version of him. He's sure and solid, lanky limbs moving with gracefulness and sensuality. She wonders more and more what he'd be like as a romantic partner, a domestic partner, taking care of things like leaky faucets, installing air conditioners, and satisfying her in bed. He's back with the wood and he easily gets a roaring fire started in the fire pit on the patio. He opens the blanket and covers her, taking the glass she hands him.

"Rollins, I gotta ask, what's with the starin'? Ya makin' me nervous. Did I scare ya so bad that ya don't trust me anymore," he jokes.

Her eyes meet his and hold his over their glasses of wine.

"It's not that. Am I imagining things? Did you… do you just want to get laid? Is it me putting too much on this… whatever this is between us right now?"

"No, I did not just want ta get laid in West Virginia. I did not ask ya here ta just get laid this weekend. Do ya really think that?"

"No, Carisi… but… I… can't just… fuck you. We can't. We aren't built for that. This sounds so stupid, but that's why I went back to the bar for Buck. If I had spent another minute thinking about you… "

She swirls the merlot in the glass, watching the flickering light from the fire play with the rich color. They're sitting on the same rattan love seat, sharing an ottoman, socked feet warmed further by the fire. She notices his hand, his long fingers, cradling the delicate crystal. His thumb sliding over the smooth surface is doing things to her. He watches her, eyes on her chest, tracking the rise and fall with each deep breath she takes, and she snickers.

"What's so funny?"

"You have some nerve calling me out for staring. You haven't stopped looking at my tits since you got here."

"They're great tits."

"Who are you and what have you done with my former altar boy partner."

"Former. Former altar boy. I grew up, learned things."

"Learned things… such as a preference for tits?"

"A preference for your tits."

His steel blue eyes hold her gaze, the crackling of the logs on the fire the only sound besides their breathing. He very deliberately nudges her foot, rubbing the delicate arch with his toe beginning a dance of sorts. She slides her foot over the top of his, he captures her tiny foot between his two. The fire is romantic, and the soft glow adds to the playful, sensuous vibe they're wrapped in. Taking a chance, Amanda lifts the edge of the blanket and scoots toward him. With a few minor adjustments, she's nestled under his arm, against his side, their feet and legs tangled. Abandoning her wineglass, Amanda rests her hand on his thigh feeling an insane level of satisfaction at the shudder that runs through him.

"What does this look like… you and me… if we…"

"Whateva we want it ta look like."

"It's more than… just… a… a steady sex partner, you know, for me."

"I know."

"I don't know what you're used to when you date, but with a baby… it's not easy."

"Not askin' for easy."

"Plans get canceled, I'm stuck in the house sometimes… I miss out."

"Not askin' for a wild social life either."

"I have a past… there are things about me… baggage…I want to tell you everything, but it'll take time. Some of it isn't pretty."

"Amanda, I'm not askin' for a fairytale, and I've got the time ta give ya. I'm askin' for you."

She feels dizzy. The directness of that statement, his blunt honesty, makes her heart race. They live in a pocket of inuendo, flirtation, allusion so this excites her. She takes the glass from him and puts it on the side table. She kneels and sits back on her feet, making herself taller, more able to see him eye to eye. He fixes the blanket over her shoulders again, making sure she's tucked into the warmth of the fire, the cocoon of the flannel, and the closeness of their bodies. In the heat and the flickering light of the flames on this chilly Autumn night, Amanda threads her fingers through his hair, loosening the hold of his gel and gently messaging his scalp. She is thorough eliciting groans of pleasure as she pulls him close and they breathe each other in. When she's done, he looks very much the way he did when he was a guest at the shelter for sex offenders… boyish, handsome.

He's letting her take the lead physically. She feels a hesitancy in him, as though he doesn't quite believe in her. Not after West Virginia. Not after fucking Buck the bartender. She licks her lips, moistening them, and touches them to his. It's chaste, sweet. The slight tremor in her hands gives away her nervousness as she reaches up to touch his cheek.

"Carisi…"

He leans in toward her with the smallest of movements. Amanda meets him in the middle. She is slow and exact. A kiss, a lick, a tasting of his tongue with her own, a slow swirl. She savors the flavors of the merlot and that which is uniquely him. The crackling and popping of the burning logs lull them, the heat of the fire warms them, coaxes them into a boldness to touch, to caress out in the backyard of Dominick and Serafina Carisi.

"Mmm… wow… Ok, altar boy, very nice surprise… you can kiss."

"I can do alotta things… lotsa surprisin' things."

"That so?"

"Just because I'm discreet doesn't mean I don't date. I get out. I have… options."

"Not what I was hoping to hear as I contemplate showing you my breasts."

He chuckles, but then turns serious as he sees her brow furrow.

"Hey… look at me," he whispers, brushing golden strands of hair behind her ear. "I won't hurt ya."

"I used to believe that and worry that I would hurt you, but now… now I'm not so sure. I think you could do some serious damage to me, Dominick Carisi."

"Partners, right? Ya trust me ta protect ya… ta have ya back, so trust me with this… with you."

Amanda swings her leg over him and straddles his lap. In one motion, she pulls off her tee and bra. Fixing the blanket again, like a shawl around her, she is exposed to only his eyes. The fire burning behind her gives her an ethereal glow like a goddess risen from the depths of the Earth. The orange hues create a wispy halo of her blonde hair in the breeze. His erection strains against the cotton of his joggers as she rocks into him. So surreal, she thinks, feeling his desire for her so plainly, so obviously… exposing herself to him… literally laying herself bare. He never breaks their gaze as she takes a moment to appreciate him, his body, between her legs. Her face breaks into a huge grin.

"You haven't stopped glancing at my boobs for hours, but now, you haven't even looked once…"

"It's different… lookin' now… it'll lead ta… things."

"Those surprising things you know how to do?"

"Mhmm. That's exactly right."

"Look anyway. I can handle you."

"Ya sure about that, Rollins?"

"No, not anymore, but I do trust you. I trust you completely."

His fingers thread into her hair and he gently tugs her down to him, presses his mouth to hers. Sliding and gliding, wet and soft, tentative and sure at the same time, they anticipate, meet and match the moves of the other like a well-rehearsed ballet. His lips graze her jaw. He sucks and nibbles the column to her shoulder, his fingertips dance over the delicate skin of her neck, trace her clavicle. Finally, she sits up, leans back just enough that her hardened nipples are perfectly in line with his mouth. Before he touches or tastes, his eyes meet hers, giving her a final chance to back out. She doesn't. She smiles and watches him struggle with the belief that this is really happening, that she's real, that he has permission. His gaze travels and when the sharp intake of his breath gets caught in his throat, Amanda feels like the most beautiful woman in the world… and, in truth, she is… to him.

"Rollins… Amanda… my God…"

"You can touch me, Sonny. I won't break."

"I just can't believe this is happenin'."

"I was thinking the same thing… about you until… well… I assume that's not your gun pressing against me."

"Not my gun. Ya feel… good… really good… against me. I have ideas, Amanda Rollins… things I thought about for a long time," he says thrusting his hips just once.

"Are you going to tell me or show me," she asks in a voice bordering on a whine.

"I'm thinkin' probably both… ya know… for example… I can tell ya that your tits are as perfect as I ever imagined them. Your nipples are so hard, 'Manda… perfectly pink… my tongue is gonna feel so good on ya… but ya have ta be really quiet when I finally lick and suck on them, when I bite down on ya."

"Shit, Sonny… please… touch me. I can't..."

His fingers tickle patterns over her, circling her pebbled nipples as she squirms trying to get his hands where she wants them. When he does pinch her hardened nub between his thumb and forefinger, the sound that emanates from her makes his cock jump causing yet another moan from her. She grinds against him, seeking relief from the intense need, from the pressure building at her core. Just as they establish an easy rhythm, he closes his lips around her breast and swirls his tongue over and across her sensitive peek. Her hips buck and he groans into her, the vibrations causing her core to clench around nothing.

"If ya don't stop slidin' against me like that, I'll be finished before we even really get started."

"If it makes you feel good, if I make you feel good, who cares? We have all weekend."

"I kinda do… care, I mean… I wanna… I need ta be inside ya. I wanna make that happen for us both… together."

"Surprises indeed, Detective. I don't believe that has ever happened for me… you know… together."

"That, Detective, is 'cause ya never had me takin' care-a ya."

"See, you saying things like that… it brings me closer to having THAT happening right here much sooner than you think."

He kisses her again, deeply, leaving no doubt what his intentions are for the rest of the night.

"Let's go inside."

"Mmm, the fire though… it's so sexy… makes me want to… polish your gun…"

"Fuck… fuck, Amanda… ok… hold that thought… keep this wrapped around ya… follow me," he says peppering her lips with kisses as he speaks, pulling the blanket tighter over her. "Wait here."

Leaving her on the patio near the sliding door to the house, Carisi disappears into the shed one more time and grabs a basket full of logs. As he scoots past her, opening the door, he wiggles his eyebrows and plants a kiss on her lips. She giggles and steps into the house behind him.

"Give me a minute."

She is thoroughly amused watching him in "work" mode. Back to the Carisi she's most familiar with, he is rushed but focused, collecting a few things from the kitchen and nodding his head toward the den. Wrapped in the flannel blanket, her shirt and bra bunched in her hand, she has to move her legs double time to keep up with his lanky strides. Once in the den, he moves straight to the fireplace and opens the flue. With precision, he once again gets a fire started casting that same glow, that same flicker, that same heat. He grabs a few blankets and spreads them on the carpet, tossing a few throw pillows from the couch down for good measure. He pairs his phone with a Bluetooth speaker, and she hears "Thinking Out Loud" by Ed Sheeran softly play.

Within a few minutes, he has recreated the vibe of the firepit but inside where they're truly alone and they can take their time with each other. She stands on the periphery of the room, still wrapped in the blanket. Her heart skips a beat when, once he deems the room ready, he stops and slowly meets her gaze, reaching his hand out for a dance. She feels like she's floating to him, hovering somewhere inches above the ground moving by sheer desire. She reaches up and crosses her wrists behind his neck, the blanket falling from her shoulders. Carisi brushes his open hands up the silky skin of her back, sliding them down her sides. He pushes back slightly and pulls his shirt off, then once again steps close to her. Now, with her arms wound around his neck they are pressed together, skin to skin, feeling the warmth of the flames on them as they dance in the flickering light. The fine hairs on his body tickle her, arouse her, stoke her hunger for him.

They kiss. They kiss like they're 18 and in love for the first time, his arms tightly around her waist. They kiss like they're promising something bigger than they can consciously imagine. They kiss like they finally found their way home from a long journey.

"This is… God, Sonny… what is it about you that makes me feel so…"

She shakes her head trying to clear the emotion, trying to find solid ground in this ridiculously sweet moment. Her heart is no longer hers, and she, maybe, feels the beating of his within her own chest. As one song ends and the next begins, she lets go of him, removes her joggers and lays on the makeshift pallet looking up at him, waiting with a hand outstretched.

"Still a little chilly down here. How about you come keep me warm until the heat kicks in?"

"I like that idea… a lot."

His pants join hers and they are stretched out on the floor, bodies touching in as many ways as they can manage, the fire at her back. He smiles, so familiar and safe, but the look in his eyes says things she wasn't ready to hear until tonight… not from him. Her fingers make circles in the sparse hair across his chest, skimming over him in ways, in places, she's never explored before. They can't stop smiling.

"Ya want the blanket for a little bit?"

"No,' she whispers, "Just you. You're so warm."

"Can I… I wanna touch ya. I wanna find all the ways that make ya moan. I wanna watch ya come for me."

Her kiss is impatient as she rolls him onto his back. He pulls her over him. She feels his hard-on pressed to her thigh and she needs more. Amanda tries to kiss down Sonny's body, but he holds her in place, laughing into her kisses.

"Nope… you first. Lemme take care-a ya the way I dream about."

He flips them and settles her on her back beside him. The dancing light of the flames makes her eyes shine and twinkle with an impish sexuality. He traces her lips with a single finger. She reaches out with the tip of her tongue to catch his finger.

"Put ya hands over ya head. Don't move them."

She does as he says. His finger travels between her breasts circling over and around each nipple in turn. He gently kisses each peak before moving his hand to her belly button, circling, tickling.

He slides his finger along the waistband of her panties, back and forth, feather light, ghosting her flesh, promising attentiveness, giving her pleasure.

"Tell me it's ok, 'Manda."

His eyes are clear, serious now. He needs her to say the words, wants her to say them, to give him permission to bring each one of his fantasies of her to life.

"I want you, Sonny. I want this with you… not just tonight."

She echoes his words from outside that West Virginia motel room back to him. Not just tonight. It's never been anything less than forever between them really, but they're only beginning to see that. He kisses her mouth, her chin, her neck. He slides down her body using his lips, and tongue and teeth to mark his trail. Hooking his fingers into her panties he pulls them off and continues his journey. She's shaking, partly from nerves and partly from anticipation. He wraps his arms under her thighs resting them on his shoulders and breathes her in. She's never felt so open and exposed, yet so worshipped, so safe in all her life.

"Sonny… please…"

In an instant, she is light as air, drifting, floating, her soul detached from her body but hypersensitive. He takes her places she never knew existed. He's exactly right… the right amount of pressure, the right amount of teasing. When it starts to become too much, he's already adjusted for it and eases her off the crest before finding new ways to rise with her on his tongue and lips. He reads her like a favorite novel, over and over knowing the words but finding new joy with each pass over the pages. She begs, whines, pleads for release, but as promised, he will do his best to orgasm with her. He moves himself up her body, all the while stroking her just enough to keep her poised on the uphill climb to ecstasy.

She reaches down and her hand covers his as he strokes himself, once, twice. His hand falls away giving her the access she wants to touch him, measure him, test the weight of his erection in her palms. He's more than she expected but not so much that she won't crave him, love every minute, feel every last sensation with the utmost pleasure. He's as hard as diamonds and leaking.

"Look at me. I wanna see ya, want ya ta know who ya with."

He sinks into the wet heat of her body, slowly, carefully, allowing her to adjust to him before pressing forward again, little by little, until he is fully sheathed in her. They are still, joined, one, breathing, existing in the same space at the same time. He's patient. She's impatient. Trying to buck her hips against him, he keeps her pinned, and they smile.

"I don't wanna hurt ya. Give it a second."

"God, Sonny, It's ok, really... you feel amazing. Please… I need it."

"Ya need it, huh?"

"Yes… please…"

"Like this," he whispers, setting a slow, steady rhythm, rocking into her and pulling almost completely out, again and again, quicker… harder… shallower… deeper.

He's working her again, the way he did with his lips and tongue, angling so she feels every inch of him. The crackling of the fire, the soft music and their moans and sighs and quiet declarations fill the room. They work to stay fully present, eyes open, talking to each other, coaxing and encouraging, feeling everything, and when she comes, he tumbles with her.

He covers them with a blanket and spoons her, facing the fire, feeling the warmth and basking in the glow. He kisses along her shoulder and neck. She snuggles into the curve of him.

"Sonny?"

"Mmmm?"

She turns just enough to see his face, to softly kiss his lips.

"This… feels like… something… good, you know?"

"Yeah, it does."

"I usually fuck up good in my life. Promise me you won't let me do that to us."

"You won't… but I promise."

As the fire ceases to rage, the embers continue to glow, hot, smoldering, ready to be stoked at any moment. Sonny sleeps wrapped around her. Amanda doesn't want to wake him when she sees how beautiful he looks, how peaceful and sated, but there's a bed upstairs that she intends on using to give back some of the attention he lavished on her. Like the embers, this newfound passion is just under the surface, burning hot. With a rolling of her hips, a wiggling, a pressing of her plump ass against him, she stokes the fire in him, and he wakes with a chuckle and a tweak of her nipple.

"Again?"

"Mhmm, but let's go upstairs. Jesse…"

"Ok… on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Maybe ya can… uh… polish my gun… ya know… in my old bedroom?"

"Christ… that's so hot, Sonny. Let's go."

Note: The author of this SVU: Fall in Love story will be revealed in November