He's in the bathroom and she takes a minute to double check she put decent underwear on this morning, a check she knows is ludicrous because it doesn't matter. She would bet good money that no man in history has ever changed his mind about sleeping with a woman because he didn't like her underwear. While she knows Dempsey will appreciate some of her nicer underwear, she knows too that she could peel off her clothes to reveal the world's worst and he wouldn't want her any less. As it happens, what she's wearing tonight is pretty good so all is well.
She removes her belt and is about to unbutton her trousers when he walks back in and steps over to her, reaching to still her hands, pushing them gently aside.
"I could be wrong but I'm pretty sure part of your request for tonight was for me to undress you." His hands move up to the top button of her shirt and she feels herself shiver faintly at his touch. "Slowly."
Her brain to mouth signal seems to have failed her so she opts to gaze into his eyes and nod, telling him yes, dear God, that's exactly what she wants. Her message is obviously received loud and clear as he leans in to kiss her, his hands deftly working on her buttons as he does. She moves her hands to settle on his hips, her fingers hooking into his belt loops to pull him closer, before she starts to drag his shirt free of his jeans.
His hands move from button to button but his mouth doesn't leave hers, a skill that she hopes is a preview of what else his nimble fingers can do. She's spent more hours than she'd care to admit watching his fingers, his hands...when he's typing, smoking a cigar, driving. The erotic charge that ran through her the first time she watched him clean his gun most definitely wasn't one she was prepared for, but now she makes sure she's always there when cleaning time comes around.
His hands move inside her shirt and he pushes it gently off her shoulders as his mouth dips lower to the side of her neck, his teeth scraping ever so slightly across her skin.
Her ability to multi-task is second to none but at this moment his shirt buttons seem just beyond her navigation zone, so she shifts her attention to his jeans instead. One button and a zip she can probably manage, even with his lips doing things to her neck that she can't describe but that she never wants to stop. She leaves it to him to drag his jeans hastily off and they both smile at his impatience when there's a slight tangle at his ankles.
His hands glide down her sides, lightly tickling her ribs, making her smile again. She makes a second attempt at his shirt, silently applauding herself when she manages to open several more buttons, feeling pure relief when she reaches the last one. Following his lead, she pushes the shirt down off his shoulders and slides her hands slowly down his chest.
He pulls his mouth from her neck and moves his hands back to her trousers, unzipping them and sliding them over her hips, the touch of his fingers eliciting a faint moan from her.
"Harry, Harry, Harry…" His voice is low as his hands stay at her waist and his thumbs trace lightly over her hip bones, the combination sending a pool of heat into her belly and beyond. She steps free of her trousers, kicking them aside.
He backs up, pulling her with him, stopping only when the back of his legs hit the bed and he sits down. She watches as he tips forward and when he starts to press small, soft kisses along her abdomen she pushes her hands into his hair and lets her eyes drift shut. His fingers dip under the edge of her underwear and her breath catches when his tongue starts to trace a slow circle around her belly button.
"Oh God…" He pauses and glances up at her, a challenging smirk on his face. "Don't you dare stop."
Her words act like a starter pistol and he stands up, turning her around, and before she knows it she's climbing onto the bed and he's crawling between her legs, his lips moving from her ankles slowly up her thighs towards his ultimate destination. As he pulls her underwear down and his talents reveal themselves, she throws her head back against her pillows, aware that her appreciation is not exactly making itself known quietly, but not caring in the slightest.
She's not usually one to let herself go easily but there are three things she hadn't quite counted on; his soft hands moving gently and reverently over her hips, his tongue pressed just where she wants it, doing things she has only dreamed of, and the fact she trusts him implicitly. It's the perfect storm and as she finally surrenders to it, closing her eyes and clutching at the bedding with an air of desperation, she inwardly congratulates herself for taking a deep breath some weeks ago and telling him she cared about him.
She's still attempting to get her breath back and she still feels like there's an electric current running through her entire body, when she feels him moving up the bed, his tongue once again tracing patterns across her skin.
"Oh my God…" Her words are barely more than a breath but he lifts his head and gazes up at her.
"I ain't no cab driver, angel." He grins and she must look confused because his grin widens and he continues. "I go north and south of the river, and I think I just covered the south, so…"
"Mm…" She returns his grin and he starts to move up towards her again. "The north is positively quivering in anticipation."
Somewhere amid her inner chaos she manages to reach back and unclasp her bra, removing it completely ungracefully and tossing it aside in the same way. His eyes raise to meet hers and the look he gives her reignites the fire deep in her belly.
"Get up here." She drags him closer, sliding her hands into his hair and pulling his lips back to hers, kissing him, moaning when he rolls away, relieved that it's purely so he can pull off his shorts.
"Got you where I want you at last, Sergeant." He's giving her his trademark smirk but his eyes are soft and filled with warmth, shining with an adoration that makes her blush.
"That you do, Lieutenant." She shifts just enough to move her hand down between them and reach for him, biting her lip at the groan he lets out in response. "And my detective skills tell me you're rather pleased about it."
"Your skills are right on the nose, I…" Whatever words were about to be spoken seem to desert him when she tilts her hips slightly and wraps her legs around him.
"You know, you're not the only one who's been wanting this." She takes a few seconds to savour the look in his eyes, the appreciation of her directness, her honesty. "I've been dreaming for longer than I care to admit about having you in my bed...between my legs, about…"
"Jesus Harry, if you don't want this to be over way too fast, then you…" He pauses and she watches as he swallows hard. "You need to stop talking."
"Hmm, there is one thing I can think of that might keep me quiet." She grins and turns her head to bite gently on his earlobe. "Well, perhaps not completely quiet…"
She runs her foot down his back and her hands stroke his shoulders as he pushes himself closer. He sinks slowly into her and she wraps her legs tightly around him as he presses his lips to her neck and murmurs her name. Thankfully he's very wrong about it being over too fast, it's slow and gentle, and just...perfect. He's every bit as good at this as she thought he might be, he seems to know exactly how to touch her, where to touch her, and she feels more like herself under his touch than she has in years. She wonders if everyone has one person whose touch revives them, and she ponders the twist of fate that delivered her person to her in the form of a New York cop. It appears that really great sex turns her brain to mush and the thought makes her smile.
His hand moves down between them and she pushes herself instinctively against his fingers, not that he needs any direction, he clearly knows just what she needs and has already set to work on making it happen. Shifting her hips slightly, she hears her name fall from his lips again, the tickle of his breath against her neck and the touch of his fingers proves the combination that sends her flying over the edge.
"Oh my God...Dempsey!" She clutches at his shoulders, her nails scratching faintly across his skin.
"I guess…holy shit, Harry." He stops as she slides her feet higher up his legs and he lifts his head to look into her eyes. "I guess that...settles the name debate."
Reaching for him, she pulls him in and kisses him hard, her tongue duelling with his as she savours his taste. Her own moans are indistinguishable from his as he pushes deeper into her and she breaks the kiss to move her lips over his jawline, down lower. She knows he's close and it's a scrape of her teeth against his neck that is his eventual undoing, leaving them both in a tangle of limbs that she would be happy never to unsnarl.
He's the one who eventually extricates himself from their mess of knotted limbs and rolls aside, pulling her with him, sighing lazily as she settles herself on his chest.
"You good?" He runs his hand down her arm and she feels herself smiling at his question.
Good barely begins to describe it. Nobody has ever made her feel the way he does, and she knows now without any shadow of a doubt that it's because she's never felt for anyone before the way she feels about him. She takes a second to wait for the panic to follow, the doomlike feeling of certainty that it can't possibly last because happiness never does, but there is no panic, just an unfamiliar but welcome sense of contentment that pulls her smile a little wider.
"Perfect, actually." She tips her head forward to place a kiss to his chest. "I have absolutely idea why we didn't do this two years ago."
"Because you thought I was a rude, brash, arrogant asshole?" She doesn't need to look up, she can hear the grin in his voice.
"And you thought I was a cold, unfriendly, stuck-up bitch." Her foot trails down his leg, her hand over his heart as she thinks about those early days. "James...Jim...Jimmy...Dempsey. You're my Dempsey, that's just the way it is."
"Well, I'm a-okay with being your Dempsey, princess." His hand moves to cover hers, tangling their fingers together. "Sure as hell don't want to be anyone else's."
"What about all of your other girls? Won't they be terribly disappointed?" If her feet weren't currently so comfortably entwined with his, she would kick herself for allowing herself to go down this road.
"Ah honey, you know you're my only girl." She feels him drop a soft kiss to the top of head. "Been nobody but you for a while now."
"Glad to hear it." She sighs, wishing she wasn't doing this, hoping he doesn't think she's doubting him when the only person she's questioning is herself. "Because past experience has shown that I'm not very good at sharing."
"Hey...look at me, Harry." His voice is tender and she instantly feels like an idiot for her moment of insecurity as she turns her head to look up at him. "I know you're kidding, kind of...but, you know I'm all in here, right? You're the reason I'm still here, you're the reason I can't ever imagine myself going back to New York, you're-"
"I'm sorry." She stops him, feeling ridiculous once again. "Momentary wobble, that's all. I don't want you to think I don't trust you, I trust you more than anyone. I'm just...well, I don't think I've been hugely familiar with happiness as often as I might have liked, so it's rather taking some getting used to."
"Oh I'm going to make damn sure you get used to it." He leans down to kiss her, smiling as he pulls back. "If I have to spend the next forty years reminding you what happiness feels like then that's what I'll do."
"That's quite the level of dedication." Her stomach flips over at his words, at his fearlessness in mentioning their future in a way only he could.
"Like I said, I'm all in." He shrugs, she feels his chest rise and fall under her cheek. "I'm in this for the long haul, for as long as you want me."
"Me too." She takes a deep breath, exhales all of her insecurity, and squeezes his fingers. "Forty years sounds good to me."