Title: This is Life
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
Rating: M, because I don't want to get into trouble.
A/N: I almost feel as though I am in a hotel room in Vermont. Might I add, I have never been to Vermont in my life. In fact, I don't even live in the US, so, I'm probably wrong on the details, but, I really have a picture in my mind here. God, let me tell you, nothing inspires like meditation music, check it out!
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"Is that a… flute?" Brennan asked, sinking into the foamy vanilla bubbles that rose into the air and floated eloquently to the floor beneath the bathtub. Behind her, Booth hummed in her ear.
"I believe it is, my dear," he chuckled in response. The stereo and the melodic music that accompanied it was something she's grown used to, now. The CD, a long play of various, stimulating instrumentals had been the soundtrack to their slow love making. The harmonious flute made her sink into the bubbles and surrender herself to his arms.
"It's nice…" She sighed, his fingers stroking along her arms, a trail of scented foam scaring her milky flesh.
"Indeed it is," Booth replied. "I love being with you when you're so relaxed," he said, nuzzling her damp hair with his nose. She smelt like the crème and herself. Her hair darkened when it was wet, to an almost mahogany colour – brown, tinged with the darkest of reds. She looked wilder, less groomed and more like a woman who was willing to open up.
Brennan reached across, pushing the button set into the wall which activated the churning jettisons that turned their simple bath into a Jacuzzi. With anyone else, she'd have grinned at the sleazy cliché of it. But Booth wasn't anyone else. And it felt inexplicably nice.
"You mean you don't love being with me when I'm stressed?" She joked, linking her fingers with his. Booth brushed aside the darkened hair from her temple and rubbed a circle there for a moment.
"I love being with you all the time, Temperance," he said, and his usage of her given name, as if never failed to do, made her tremble inside. She was Bones or Brennan and she was likely to be that forever – and ordinarily, she didn't mind. But there was something so inordinately special about how she felt when he spoke her name.
"You realise we are pathetic, right? That this whole gross and icky display of affection isn't us…" he chuckled into her shoulder, his stubble doing crazy things to her womb. Her skin felt sensitive enough, but when he rubbed stubble… Jesus…
"Pathetic, Bones? I am so totally insulted…" she leaned into him. "You're probably right though… under no circumstances can this be mentioned back in DC. If anyone at the-" she pressed two fingers to his lips, shaking her head and effectively silencing him. When he frowned, she replaced her fingers with her lips and kissed him slowly.
"There are two unmentionables this weekend, and you almost violated your own rule…" Booth held her tighter, nodding. "I'm not a rule breaker and since you sequestered my cell phone…" He ran his fingertips along the base of her neck, watching at how she was silenced by his touch, watching how easily he could manipulate her flesh. She was soft and feminine all over, and he loved to feel her entire body, pressed against his.
The pitch of the flute, with its melodious notes, seemed to drift around the bathroom, filling every corner with music that originated from no discernable point. It felt almost as though they were in the midst of it.
"Bones, we need to invest in a good sound system like this," Booth said, rubbing long, slow circles over her abdomen.
"We?" She said, eyebrow raised.
"Hmm… yes, that sounded very… couple-ish, didn't it. I am disgusted with myself." Brennan smiled, the palm of her hand swiping across the angular shape of his jaw.
"I like it," she said. "The 'we' element. I've never had that before." She saw the compassion in his eyes, the way he searched her face, drinking in the moment they shared. They'd shared so many lovely moments in their brief time together.
"Neither have I," he said, sinking his fingers into her hair and bringing her mouth to his for a long, slow kiss. She relished in it, the elusive and tantalizing sweep of his tongue over her lips, and how, when she opened her mouth to receive him, he did not comply, instead teasing her with the merest of whispering touches. At that moment she loathed him for his cruelty yet loved him more than she'd loved anyone in her life.
His hand slipped beneath the warm scented water and urged her thighs apart. She obeyed, breathless with anticipation. He touched her, gently, his movements easy and unhurried. Her lips parted again, and this time, he slipped his tongue inside, teasing her own into a languid dance. Her eyes fell closed, and she felt him harden against her spine.
Reaching behind, Brennan took him in her hand and, with the same slow deliberation, stroked him, until his breath matched her own. Around them, bubbling pods of water ruptured, and the sound of that, coupled with the flute made her believe she was in paradise. Paradise in Vermont. Didn't people associate Vermont with skiing? She would never again associate it with anything other than how contented she felt within its tranquil beauty; a little hotel in the middle of nowhere.
Their eyes met, glazed with passion, while inside, Brennan felt a thousand emotions ravage her soul – and none of them she could adequately explain. Was it possible to love someone so much? Was it wise? Or was it insanely foolish? She didn't know, but with each precise passing touch of his fingertip, the thoughts vanished from her mind that was overcome with desire and something a lot more primal than emotion.
"Booth…" she exhaled, the coil tightening until she thought it might explode. His expression was placid as she stroked him faster, their movements hurried, now. "Are you…?"
"Yes…" he replied, knowing instinctively what she wanted to ask. This time, they came together, stroke for stroke. Brennan's limbs felt weak, from the soothing heat and the intensity of her orgasm. As she inhaled a deep satisfying breath that was infused with the scent of vanilla, she found herself feeling free, unbound and untouched by the sadness that had tinged her life for so many years. For the first time since adolescence she felt, honest-to-God happy beyond explanation. Perhaps, if she was willing to admit it, she had been since the moment Booth came into her life – at least her private life, whipping her emotions into a frenzy and making her feel. Opening her soul to… well… him.
"So," she said, pressing her fevered cheek to his chest. "Should we order some dinner and then see what you can do with those scarves?" Booth smiled, his eyes bright.
She slipped from the tub, bubbles and water cascading along her body. He was quiet for a long few moments, watching following the trail left behind as it snaked over her breasts, along her abdomen, down her thighs to her toes, her candy-coloured toes. He wanted to touch her already.
"You are…" he paused, swallowing hard and shaking his head slowly. "Truly amazing, Bones." She wrapped her hair in a towel, her moist naked body displayed to him only a moment more, until she slipped into a flannel robe and tied the belt around her waist.
"I'm hungry, Booth," she said. "But once we've eaten, I'll show you just how amazing I think you are. How about it?" He switched the jettisons off, and wrapped a towel around his waist, following her into the bedroom where she was already on the telephone, speaking with the restaurant. He loved how the little hotel offered all the classy indulgences of a big franchise.
When she replaced the handset, he parted the folds of her robe and took a turgid nipple into his mouth. She gasped her appreciation immediately. He smiled against her malleable flesh.
There were plenty of things he could do, while he waited on dinner.
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Let me know if you like-y.
