All right, everybody, we know that we only submitted the last chapter a day or so ago, but... This was one of those chapters that just BEGGED to be written! It just couldn't wait. So here's the next chapter for you. Thanks to everyone who reviewed Chapter 10 or any other chapter. We love to hear from you, so please don't hesitate to tell us what you think of this one. :)

Yours,

butterflyswest and Erin Allen

11

Ray leaned against the wall, cursing as the key refused to fit into the lock. He closed his eyes and opened them again just as quickly. He hadn't realized that he'd had that much to drink. He was well under his usual limit, but he couldn't deny that the entire hallway dipped like some madman's rollercoaster when he closed his eyes or the sick churning in his stomach. He sighed, focusing with difficulty on the lock. For a split second, he considered knocking on the door for Neela to let him in, but ditched the thought just as quickly. She was either asleep or in the process of throwing his stuff off the balcony. She wouldn't let him in voluntarily either way. He frowned, and then blinked blearily at the key in his hand. He was going to take one more stab at it before he just gave up and slept in the hall.

He stuck the key in the general direction of the lock and almost fell over with shock when it actually slid home. Two tries turning it the wrong way and his pickled brain finally told him to try the other way. He turned the knob, and finally staggered intothe apartment.

The hall light was on, giving him a little light to see by. Not that it made much difference. He was far beyond seeing clearly. He slammed the door behind him, and winced. That was just great. Good start toward trying to explain things to Neela. Slam the door and piss her off even more. He tripped over his bag trying to get to his room, and fell into his door headfirst. He clapped both hands over his head, blinking his eyes against the sudden tears of pain. He pushed to his feet, doubling over as he rubbed his head.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered harshly.

"Exactly my thought."

Ray closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"What are you doing up?" he asked his sister.

"I was hungry," she told him, opening the fridge.

She flipped on the kitchen light, and Ray raised his head, squinting against the glare. She stood leaning against the counter, her face scrubbed clean of the makeup she'd been wearing. Her hair was damp and pulled into a loose ponytail at the top of her head. Ray frowned, recognizing the shirt she was wearing.

"Where did you find that shirt?" he asked, pulling his hand away from his head. There was no blood on his hand, so he was pretty sure he was in no danger of dying, though his head didn't agree. There was already a swelling lump right on top. He touched the spot gingerly and hissed.

"In Neela's room," she said, reaching behind her to pick up a bowl and spoon.

He sighed and pushed away from the wall. That explained that mystery. He'd been looking for that shirt for three months. His heart constricted to think that Neela had been hoarding it all that time. He glanced at his door.

"She told me that I could wear it," Emily said now. She looked down at her bowl, filled the spoon, and lifted it to her mouth. She was quiet for a moment, munching noisily.

"And what are you eating?" he asked, lurching into the kitchen. He yanked open the freezer door and grabbed out a tray of ice.

"Cereal," she said. "I love the blueberries by the way."

He scowled at her as he filled a towel with ice and gingerly pressed it to the bump on his head. Christ! This had to be the longest, most miserable night of his life. He'd fought with Neela, gotten drunk, couldn't get in the door, knocked himself stupid, and now his little sister was chowing down on his cereal. Things just got better and better.

"Didn't I tell you to leave my cereal alone," he asked, knowing that it was useless to even say anything.

"Neela said I could have it," she answered around a mouthful. Then she frowned. "By the way, does she speak another language?"

Ray's eyes widened, and he shot her a look of confusion.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, fishing the aspirin from the cupboard. God his head hurt!

"Well, on the way home, she started ranting and raving." Emily shrugged, taking another bite. "Sure didn't sound like any kind of English I know."

Ray dry swallowed the aspirin and leaned his forehead against the cupboard door. If she was speaking Punjabi then he really was in it deep. He took a deep breath, forcing air into his lungs, trying to get rid of the sick feeling that had settled uncomfortably close to his heart.

"Did she say anything else?" he asked.

"What I could understand wasn't something I can repeat," Emily said. Her face lit in a slow mischievous grin. "You are so in trouble."

Ray's eyes flew open to glare at her.

"I didn't do anything," he said defensively. "I was trying to get her off of me."

"That's what Brett said. Don't worry about it, big brother. She'll cool off."

Ray shook his head, ignoring the stab of pain the action brought. He didn't want to wait until she cooled off. He wanted to talk to her, explain what had happened. He wanted to hold her and erase the hurt that he had seen in her eyes at the club. He wanted to reassure her that she was the only one he wanted.

He pushed away from the counter and staggered to his door. He gave his sister a stern look as he passed her.

"You need to go to bed, squirt," he said as normally as he could with his head pounding as it was.

She took another bite of cereal. "I want to see what happens," she said through a mouthful of food.

Ray stopped moving and glared at her over his shoulder.

"Ok, Ok. I'm going," she said, taking her bowl down the hall. Ray waited until she had closed the door before he continued on to his door.

He stared at the doorknob for a long moment, wondering what he would find when he opened it. He snorted. He'd be lucky if she just hadn't locked the damn thing. Hoping for a miracle, he reached out and grasped the knob. It turned easily, and he pushed it open, taking in the darkness within. Was she already asleep? How could she just sleep as if nothing was wrong? It hurt that she would feel nothing when he was falling apart inside. He ducked inside the room, his eyes fixed on the bed. He frowned, blinking his eyes in confusion. There was nobody under the blanket. He took a step forward, wondering if he wasn't seeing things.

The door slammed shut behind him, and he whirled around, nearly falling again. He narrowed his eyes as a dim figure emerged from behind the door.

Neela eyed him up and down, taking in his rumpled appearance and shadowed eyes. Even in the low light from the window, he looked completely miserable. From the sounds she'd heard before he had come to the door, he was well and thoroughly trashed.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly, moving toward him. "It sounded like you fell."

"I did," he admitted, his voice sounding completely bewildered. "I tripped over my bag and hit the door."

"That's what I thought," she said. "Are you hurt?"

He shook his head, never taking his eyes from her. What the hell was she up to? She was still completely in the dark, but she didn't sound mad as hell like he'd expected. She sounded…almost concerned about him. He stayed where he was, unsure what she was going to do. He did know that if she was about to tell him to go to hell, he just wished she would get it over with, so he could crawl somewhere and die. He refused to acknowledge the fear that thought evoked. Goddammit, I can't lose her, he thought. Not now…

He winced against the glare as she struck a match. When his eyes adjusted to the soft light of the candle she lit, he suddenly understood her odd behavior. His mouth went dry and he swallowed hard against the lump that rose in his throat. She turned to look at him, her eyes softened in the gentle light, and he wondered if he wasn't just having a dream. Instead of talking to his sister in the kitchen and then coming in here, he was really knocked out cold in the hallway.

She was dressed in a little slip of nothing made of black lace that only fell to the middle of her thighs. His eyes were drawn upward where he could see her honey gold skin peeking through the small holes in the fabric. The top was scooped so low that he could see the smooth skin of her perfect breasts, just begging him to touch, to taste. Tiny black beads were all that curved over her shoulders to hold it on. He tore his eyes away from the vision before him to look into her eyes.

"Neela…" he croaked, unsure of what to say. He laughed inwardly. Thank God no one was here to witness that. Ray Barnett? Speechless?

She smiled gently and moved toward him. She had been agonizing over doing this from the moment she had come home. It wasn't as if she had any experience seduction. She played it safe. Always. But now was not the time for half measures. Something inside her had snapped at the club, seeing that girl touching, kissing, the man she loved. All the way home, she had worried over Brett's words like a dog worrying at a bone. What if he was wrong? What if...

What if pigs could fly?

The basic fact was that she loved him. Loved him enough to help him with his sister. Loved him enough to help him patch things up with his best friend. Loved him enough to fight for him, to do what no one else had ever done for him, accept him.

She approached him, feeling her heart begin to beat against her ribs. She boldly pressed herself against him, slipping her hands under his shirt to graze her nails lightly across his back. She smiled when he shivered, closing his eyes with a small gasp.

"I was starting to get worried about you," she murmured, going on tiptoes to nuzzle his throat. He leaned down a little, so she could reach.

"You were?" he asked, his voice slightly strangled. "I thought…"

"You thought what, Ray?" she murmured, lifting his shirt to run her tongue across his chest. He sucked in a hissing breath, his hands finding her waist seemingly of their own volition.

"I thought you were…"

She paused, glancing up into his eyes.

"That I was angry?" she finished softly.

He nodded, his breath starting to come in short gasps and his skin was pebbled with chill bumps. She smiled, feeling rather smug that she could do this to him, that she had this effect on him. She lifted his shirt to his neck, and he pulled it over his head.

"I was angry at the situation, Ray. I know now that you're not to blame."

He sighed and closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around her. Resting his cheek on the top of her head, he stroked her back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I…" he began, but broke off as her fingers deftly unbuttoned his jeans. He pulled back a little to look down at her in shock. "Neela…"

She met his shocked gaze without flinching. It was time to stop running from what she wanted. He deserved better than that.

"I love you, Ray. I always have."

His face twisted with something like pain, before he took her face in his palms, leaning forward to kiss her.

"I love you, Neela. Only you…" he said against her lips.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, matching him in ferocity. His tongue chased hers from his mouth, teasing, caressing her palate…sharing breath. The moment of lust she had experienced at the club was nothing compared with the need that was now stinging her blood. His arms nearly crushed her as he lifted her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist, needing to be closer. Needing him.

Ray didn't know what had happened to change her mind, but right now he didn't care. He couldn't think with her scent in his nose, seeping into his pores. He didn't stop to wonder why this was happening. How could he possibly think with her hands roaming across his skin, leaving the memory of her touch imprinted in every cell. How could he ever consider being with another woman when Neela could do this to him? He'd never experienced anything that could compare with this. In that moment, he could do anything, be anything. The alcohol haze was gone. The pain in his head was dim and distant. All he could feel was Neela, wrapped around him as if she would like nothing better than to just crawl inside him.

With a groan, he moved forward blindly, not caring where they ended up, so long as he could touch her, taste her. Her back hit the wall, and she cried out, arching her back as he pushed against her. Every sense he had suddenly rushed to his groin. He couldn't hold back the low moan that escaped his throat as he thrust against her through his clothes. Christ! There was no way he could wait. He was like some fumbling kid, but he couldn't help it, and he really didn't care. She loved him. She hadn't turned him away or run away from him after what had happened at the club.

She truly loved him enough to forgive him.

Neela was beyond all thought. The wall dug into her back, but she didn't feel pain. Everything she knew, everything she had ever known was centered on the man holding her. She couldn't remember ever wanting someone as much as she wanted him in that moment. She bit her lip to hold in the scream of pure ecstasy as he somehow freed himself from his clothes and plunged into her. His mouth slammed down on hers, swallowing her cries as he pushed forward, deeper…deeper, until she was gasping for air. The negligee was suddenly gone, torn from her like tissue. She held on for dear life, sure that she was going to fall apart, that she would simply shatter into dust at his feet. One hand held her against him, but the other roamed across her skin in a searing trail of heat. She whimpered, near tears at the wonder of it. With a sudden hard thrust, she did shatter, his kiss muffling her cries as he, too, came apart.

Ray could barely hold himself steady as he slowly sank to his knees. He held her close, burying his face in her hair, stroking her back where the wall had likely bruised her. He was content for the moment to just sit there, not moving, not speaking. What could he say to describe what he was feeling? Love seemed almost too pale a word for the feelings that were whirling like a storm through his heart. Her fingers stroked the back of his neck, and he finally raised his head to look into her eyes.

"Ray…" she began, but he shushed her with a soft kiss.

"I know, Neela," he whispered, trailing his hand down her cheek. "I love you, too."