BURNING FLAMES OR PARADISE
CHAPTER ONE
WELCOME TO NEW YORK

Like any great love, it keeps you guessing
Like any real love, it's ever-changing
Like any true love, it drives you crazy
But you know you wouldn't change anything


SEPTEMBER 2010

She shouldn't be nervous.

The thought plays on a loop, a broken record in her mind. She's picked him up from the airport too many times to count, and never have nerves come into play. But today, she's fidgeting, fingers playing with the ring around her neck. Because they hadn't talked about it, hadn't talked much in the previous week.

Usually when he's gone, they're in constant communication. Texting throughout the day, Skype at night. Sometimes it ends with them whispering erotic words to each other, other times they end up simply talking until they fall asleep.

But not this time.

No, her calls had gone unanswered, texts ignored, save for the one where she'd insisted on picking him up. Even then, the answer was a simple "ok" followed by his flight information.

Just when her nerves are starting to get to her, when she's about to rush to the bathroom to collect herself, she sees the top of his head in the middle of a crowd. She can't help but breathe a sigh of relief at the smile that appears when their eyes meet. Even then, she isn't sure if he's still mad until he sweeps her into his arms in a bone-crushing hug.

She melts into him, face buried in his shoulder, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She refuses to cry here, even though she's relaxed for the first time in days, with her boyfriend's arms around her and words of love and apology whispered into her hair.

They part after what seems like hours, and he cups her face in his hands, holds her steady so he can brush a kiss across her lips. "I'm so sorry, Kate," he murmurs against her mouth, soft kisses peppering her cheeks and forehead.

Her eyes flutter closed at his caresses, tame because they're in public, but filled with the promise of more. She pulls away from him, reaches up so she can caress his cheek, her thumb brushing the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry too."

He shakes his head, kisses the pad of her thumb. "No, you have nothing to apologize for. I was an asshole." Another kiss and he steps away, grabbing the handle of his suitcase in one hand and curling the other around her waist. "Can we go home? I want us to move past this."

She leans into him, nudges her temple against his bicep. She's wearing sneakers, so she fits perfectly into his side, into his protective embrace. "Of course. In fact," she teases as she leads him towards the town car, "I have a surprise for you."

"Oh?" He follows her into the back of the car while the driver takes care of his suitcase. She just grins at him, but lets out a quiet shriek when he grabs her hand and tugs her against him. His hand lands on her hip and he squeezes before it slides to her thigh and nudges her leg over his. "What kind of surprise?"

She moans when his tongue darts out to tease the sensitive spot beneath her ear, that spot that never fails to send heat straight through her. "The kind that I think will make you very, very happy," she says, the last word more of a sigh, and she shifts again to straddle his lap. "I missed you," she breathes, cupping his face in her hands and bringing her mouth down to meet his. "I missed you so much."

His hands find their way under her shirt, and he groans when her hips buck against him. "Show me," he husks. He repeats the words even as her nimble fingers work at the buttons of his shirt.

They don't have to tell the driver to take his time getting them home.


He waits until he's sure she's asleep before he starts to snoop. He'd bugged her about it all the way from the car to the door of the loft, when she'd shut him up with her mouth against his and her body undulating so much he'd almost passed out.

He looks in all her usual hiding places: the back of her closet, her underwear drawer, even her makeup bag in case it's something small. But after a half-hour of searching downstairs, he still hasn't come up with anything unusual or out of place, so he wanders into his office. He's wide awake now, so he may as well write.

He's so caught up in his writing that he doesn't know she's behind him until he feels her hands on his shoulders. He jumps in surprise, but when she massages the back of his neck he leans into her touch. "Did I wake you?" he asks, head dropping back so he can look up at her.

She grins from above him, leans down to give him an upside-down kiss. "No. Wish you would have, I could've saved you the trouble of snooping," she says, her tone teasing.

He saves his document and shuts his laptop, then turns to face her. "What are you talking about?" he asks, feigning innocence.

She simply lifts an eyebrow. "Rick. We've been together for the better part of four years. You don't think I know your habits by now?"

He opens his mouth to protest, but when her eyebrow is joined by the other, decides against arguing further. She is right, after all; she's joked more than once that they'll have to move if he keeps finding her hiding spots. "Can you blame me?" he argues, his hands brushing against her waist, sliding under the shirt of his that she's wearing, and - oh, she's not wearing underwear. He opens his legs to welcome her as she steps forward and straddles a thigh. His fingers work at her buttons as hers slip under his boxers, and he jerks, his hips seeking hers.

"Hold on, stud," she husks, standing, the shirt falling off her shoulders as she saunters back to the bedroom. When he stays rooted to his chair, boxers half-off, she glances over her shoulder. "You coming, or what?"


She distracts him for hours, interrupting his pleas to tell him the surprise with her mouth, hands, and body. The need for food eventually overtakes the desire for each other, and she calls for pizza while he showers. Normally she'd join him, but they're both too exhausted to even attempt a round in the shower, at least not for a couple hours.

She's just getting out of her own quick shower when the food arrives, and when she emerges from the bedroom in one of his t-shirts and a pair of leggings, he has it dished out already. "Thanks, babe," she says when she settles next to him on the couch, and nudges his thigh with hers before concentrating on the food.

They eat in silence, and when he takes the last bite of his food she stands and holds out her hand. "Come on."

He cocks his head, but takes her outstretched hand and follows her. "Oh, is this the surprise?" he asks when she leads him to the stairs.

"Yeah." She falls silent, then, until they reach the second floor.

"Kate, wait." Rick stops her with a hand on her arm. He leans down so his forehead is against hers. "I'm sorry for everything. I love you," he sighs. "I was angry, and I lashed out. You didn't deserve it. My future is with you, Kate, and I'll support you no matter what."

She smiles and lifts herself on her toes so she can reach his mouth, but she keeps the kiss soft and brief. "About the future" Her voice trails off, and she steps away from him, grabs his hand to lead him to the closed door of the guest room. Her teeth worry the flesh of her bottom lip and she watches as his eyes find the words on the door.

"Kate," he whispers, his eyes glued to the door. "Does this mean...are you…"

She grins, laughter bubbling from her chest to spill from her lips. "I know we haven't talked about it. I haven't even found out if I'll get an interview. But if there's one thing I know, it's that I want this." She nods towards the door. "And if you want a different room to be the 'soon-to-be nursery,'" she reads from the sign she'd made the day after finding out, "we can do it."

"No, Kate, this is perfect." He sweeps her into his arms with a laugh. "God, I love you."

She laughs into his neck, lips against his skin, and shivers when his hands grip her thighs and lift her. "Welcome home, Rick," she breathes, before his mouth covers hers once again.


A/N: A little over five years ago, I had the idea to take an album, and write a fic around it, with each song on the album providing inspiration for a chapter. So I took that idea to my then-beta (and friend) Callie, who mapped out a thirteen-chapter outline with Taylor Swift's 1989 album (regular version, not deluxe), and made me the great cover art. And now, after years of constant tinkering and planning, of setting it aside often only to revisit it again again, it's finally seeing the light of day, and I hope you enjoy it! My thanks to Callie and also Jenn for the virtual pom poms over the last few months as I finished.