SUPPLY AND DEMAND
RATED M
CHAPTER SIX
"You were with me the whole time." She presses her palm against his cheek, her eyes searching his face as he leans into her touch. He'd obviously stayed up all night, and the worry lines in his forehead and dark circles under his eyes betray his insistence that he had managed to sleep a little.
If their places had been switched, if he'd disappeared with no trace like she had, she wouldn't sleep either.
His face begins to relax as she traces her thumb across his cheek, and his hand finds her knee, but it isn't enough. She can't go home yet, needs to finish signing off on her statement, but she also can't leave things the way they are right now. It kills her to see her fiancé so torn up over almost losing her, and it kills her that she almost left him.
Bracken saved her, she knows. She saved his life, he's now saved hers. They're even.
Her heart sinks when she realizes that, were it not for that brief moment of integrity over a year before, she'd be dead right now. Her fiancé would never become her husband; her last words to him would have been the words in a letter that may not have been found.
Her hands fall to his, and she grips hard, uses his hands as leverage to push herself to stand. He glances up, those worried brows furrowed in confusion, and she tugs.
"Come with me."
She's almost frantic as she leads him to the back stairs, the ones they've used to sneak up to the fifth floor on countless occasions through the years. Someone might come looking for her in a few minutes, but she needs to be alone with him right now, needs to embrace him, to comfort him, and she can't do that in the break room where anyone could see.
The confusion in his face is gone when she locks them in the supply closet, and when she wraps her arms around his neck and she feels him sag into her embrace, she holds him close, lets him bury his face in her shoulder.
"I'm okay," she murmurs, trailing her fingers through his hair. She leans against the door, allows it to hold her weight as Rick's shoulders begin to tremble.
His arms envelop her waist, and despite the fact that she's supposed to be comforting him, she finds herself being reassured that, in his strong embrace, she's okay. As long as they have each other, they're okay.
She's known for a long time that she loves him. But as his mouth presses the side of her neck, just a brief, soft caress, she's overwhelmed by the need to tell him, to show him, just how lost she'd be without him.
When his hands slide to her hips and he tugs her into him, she realizes that, as usual, they're on the same page.
"I was so worried," he murmurs against her skin, his lips trailing up her neck, his teeth nipping at her earlobe. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
She shivers at the low voice in her ear, and really, she shouldn't be surprised that heat starts to pool between her legs, or that when he shifts his hips, his growing erection presses against her. She tightens her grip on the back of his head, holding him to her as he kisses her ear, her jaw, her throat, and she doesn't even care when he nips at the exposed skin of her neck.
His hands slide under her sweatshirt, and she shivers when his palms find her bare skin, his touch scalding, setting every nerve ending on fire. "Rick-" she gasps, hooking her leg around his thigh, pressing her body against his, trying to get as close to him as possible. She rolls her hips, desperate for friction, for relief, but there are too many clothes in the way.
She grunts and drops her hands to his pants, fumbles with the belt, shoves his pants and boxers down his legs once they're undone. As soon as her fingers wrap around his erection his mouth is on hers, his tongue pushing between her lips.
His thrusts into her hand are almost frantic, and he quickly tugs her pants down. Before she can even react, his hand is between her legs, his fingers slicking through her folds, drenched with arousal.
She tears her mouth from his when he plunges two fingers inside her, a curse falling from her lips, and she rolls her hips against his hand, pumping his cock in time with his strokes, but it isn't even close to being enough. As his thumb presses against her clit she feels the beginning tugs of orgasm, but she pushes his hand away and hooks her leg around his hip, lifting herself to her toes, a wordless plea for him to give her more.
After the briefest hesitation, he bends his knees, curls his hands around the back of her thighs. He squeezes, and she recognizes the command, lets him support her weight as she wraps both legs around his waist.
They both moan as he enters her, and he leans forward, his chest pinning her to the door. His fingers dig into her ass, holding her still as he begins to move his hips. Before long he's pounding into her, his movements erratic, and she moans, grips his shirt when he buries himself deep and groans with release.
"Fuck," he curses into the dip at the base of her throat. His teeth scrape against her skin, and he lets go of her ass with one hand, slides it between them to touch her where they're joined.
Her inner muscles squeeze when his thumb brushes against her clit, and she feels him smile against her skin, squeezes him again in encouragement. He's still hard inside her, and as he teases her bundle of nerves he starts to pound into her once again, the door at her back rattling with every rough thrust.
Searching for anything to hold onto, to ground her, she grips his shirt collar, and she gasps with pleasure as she begins to spasm around him, her orgasm crashing through her. She feels him shudder with another climax, and when he finally stills, he brushes his mouth to her throat and lifts his head.
She brushes his hair off his damp forehead and leans forward to kiss him, her tongue slipping through his lips for a slow, lazy exploration of his mouth. She doesn't want to let go, not yet, not until she absolutely has to.
Eventually his arms begin to tremble from holding her up, and she sighs into his mouth, loops her arms around his neck as he lowers her back to the ground. She buries her face in his neck, and she feels his arms wrap around her, relaxes into his strong embrace once again.
"I love you," she murmurs, brushing her lips against his ear.
He presses a kiss to her temple. "I love you, too, Kate. I can't even tell you how much."
She leans back and smirks. "Oh, you've shown me how much," she teases, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth when he narrows his eyes.
He leans forward and captures her mouth with his, soothing her bottom lip with his tongue before nipping at it. "And I'll show you any time," he promises in a low growl.
She chuckles. "I'll hold you to that." Mindful of both their location and the amount of time they've been gone, she steps away from his arms and reaches for the paper towels. By the time she's cleaned up the best she can and pulled her pants up, Rick is dressed and waiting with his hand on the doorknob.
"Ready to finish up?" he asks, holding out his hand.
Kate grins and takes his outstretched hand, laces their fingers together. "With you by my side?" She brushes a quick kiss to his mouth. "Always."
