Purgatory
Chapter 11 - Temptation
As EJ climbed the stairs to Bishop's 3rd floor condo the butterflies in her stomach did flip-flops. Her nervousness had started back in her guest quarters as she prepared for the evening and had escalated as she walked the ten blocks to his apartment. She chastised herself for feeling like a teenager going out with the cool jock - the hot guy all the girls want to date.
You are such a putz! What is going on with you, woman? This is just dinner between old friends catching up on life. Get a grip!
Arriving at the condo door she paused, forcing a deep breath in a futile attempt to hold the butterflies at bay. Exhaling, she took a brief inventory of herself. Despite her own internal protests - and the limited wardrobe in her suitcase - she had changed from her clothes of earlier and donned the tightest pants she had brought - a pair of designer blue jeans. She opted for the most form fitting top she had packed - a mauve colored, one-piece with a scalloped neck that showed-off her creamy skin down to the bottom of her collarbone and out to the edge of her shoulders. She reached up and smoothed the silk top at her shoulders and down across her breasts, centering her short pony tail at the back of her neck. She knew she looked good, but despite her efforts, the butterflies were unrelenting.
Geeze, girl. You are NOT in high school anymore. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe it's not too late to skip this. What were you thinking?! God, how stupid can you be?!
As her chest tightened and stomach lurched she turned to leave, but just then she heard the condo door open.
"Hey", Bishop's voice came from behind her.
She swallowed hard, forced a smile and turned toward him. "Hey," she said, and walked over the threshold.
Some time later EJ sat back in her chair, her stomach pleasantly full, her pallet satisfied. Conversation with Bishop over dinner had been relaxed, casual, flowing easily after several glasses of wine. The meal had actually been enjoyable with the food surprisingly delectable. Bishop, it seemed, could cook, and he was good at it.
"Where'd you learn to cook?" she asked while Bishop cleared the table, bussing dishes to the kitchen's island countertop next to the dining table. A warm, comfortable glow spread outward from her stomach into the rest of her body as she finished her second glass of wine.
"When I got back stateside from my last tour in Afghanistan the Army shrink said I needed something to focus on," he continued as he stepped back to the table, filling her wine glass.
"My brother's a chef at an upscale restaurant in St. Louis, so I thought I'd give cooking a try. I took some leave and went and learned from him. The shrink was right - it really helped. It's been a passion ever since."
Turning, he walked back to the counter and began preparing something she suspected was probably dessert.
Bringing the refreshed glass of wine to her lips she hesitated, her gaze sweeping appreciatively over Bishop's toned body. He was gorgeous, no doubt about it. But he wasn't vain about his appearance. He was solid and masculine and strong and he smelled so good and …
Oh ... wow! What have I gotten myself into? she thought as the warm, alcohol induced haze lessened her earlier anxiety.
As Bishop expertly manipulated the cooking utensils he glanced over at EJ, the hint of a smirk appearing on his face after a moment. Her throat tightened and her face flushed hot as she realized he had caught her checking him out. She cleared her throat and hastily turned away, an embarrassed smile on her face, and focused her attention on surveying the rest of the open layout of the condo.
Hiding her discomfort at being caught she stood and walked toward the living room area, glancing briefly at the sleeping area and bed beyond. As she walked over to a set of shelves stacked with music CDs, DVDs and books she nervously drained her glass of wine without thinking.
"Wow," she said, surveying the many CDs on the shelves. "You really like jazz!"
"Yeah," he said, looking over his shoulder as he continued working on the next course of food. "Comes from growing up in St. Louis. You a jazz fan?"
"Actually, I am. I'm not an expert or anything, but I probably enjoy jazz more than any other type of music."
"There's a CD in the stereo. Start it up. You'll like it."
EJ pushed the play button and the gentle, melodious strains of a tenor sax, piano and acoustic bass floated softly in the background. The beat was slow, a subtle counter-point from the bass making the rhythm thick and sensuous. The sax and piano softly sang the melody back and forth between them, a duet of call and response, of lovers declaring themselves to each other.
She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, allowing the music to absorb her. It was hypnotic. Swaying back and forth to the beat ever so slightly, she felt the tension drain from her muscles, her anxiety fading away, the combination of alcohol and sound flooding her mind and body with relief she hadn't experienced in months. Everything faded from her awareness as she lost herself into the warmth and the music.
The sound of soft steps coming up behind her tugged at her awareness, coaxing her partway out of her trance. The corners of her mouth turned up into a small smile at his kindness of intentionally making noise so she would not be startled, because she knew as a Ranger, he had been trained to move without making a sound. He stopped. Only inches away. The heat from his body washed over the bare skin on her neck, back and shoulders. His breath, soft and warm, ghosted across across her cheek. She didn't move, nor did he.
"Nice, isn't it?" his voice was quiet and deep.
She could sense him moving slowly side to side with the beat, mirroring her motion.
"Yes," she whispered, drawing out the word as if she didn't want to let it go, as if she dared not stop the sound of her voice for fear that everything might disappear.
For a moment she puzzled at her calmness to the intimacy of his closeness, that she didn't feel guilt or the urge to run away, feelings which had become so familiar over the past many months. But that moment left as quickly as it had arrived and she felt herself slipping from blissful comfort into something more powerful, more raw.
As the sax and piano flowed into another lovers' refrain she felt his hand settle lightly on her bare shoulder. Not a caress, nor a grasp, but instead, a question. She sighed and without thinking, relaxed into his touch. It was warm, skin upon skin, a tingling sensation radiated down and through her chest, settling into the pit of her stomach. She had missed her body being adored. She had craved the touch of a man for so long, but had denied herself that refuge.
With her eyes still closed her body continued it's affair with the music, swaying side to side, his hand on her shoulder gently following her lead. An almost imperceptible shudder ran through her, the primal energy at her core emanating outward, making itself known. He must have felt it. He brought his other hand up, both now resting on her shoulders, hands and body mirroring her movement. She felt the heat of his body on hers and with aching slowness he closed the inches between them, finally bringing his chest to her back, lightly folding his arms around hers as they continued to move with the music. She relaxed into him, engulfed by him, her senses overwhelmed by his warmth and scent and strength.
Desire burned deep in her core now, surging upward, pushing her consciousness aside so that only her need existed. His hands seared the skin where they wrapped around her arms, his breath was excruciating on her neck. The music began to fade, replaced by the pounding of her own pulse in her ears. Her breathing grew ragged and shallow while she arched her body into his. As she pushed her back against him she could feel his arousal through his jeans causing the smoldering heat within her to flair even hotter.
With her eyes still closed she felt him lean over her shoulder and cup her chin with his hand, turning her face to meet his. His lips brushed tentatively across hers and a shudder ran through her, a soft moan escaping her throat. He pulled his mouth back for just an instant and she felt an aching loss, wanting more, needing more.
As his lips returned she leaned into the kiss, embracing it, deepening it, reveling in it. Her mind exploded into white heat, obliterating all logic and reason. His hand moved from her chin to cradle the side of her face allowing him to lean further into the kiss, his tongue brushing her lower lip, requesting entry into her velvet mouth. Panting, she parted her lips, letting him taste her as her tongue greedily sought his in return. Deepening the kiss even further she brought up one hand, reaching back to his neck, pulling him forward over her shoulder so her lips were pressing hard into his. She wanted him closer, wanted him over her, on her, around her. Another soft moan escaped her as she felt his other hand move down and splay across her ribs, urgently pulling her backwards into him.
Pausing just long enough to breathe, they devoured each other's mouths again while she pulled urgently at his neck as his hand massaged light circles through the sheer fabric of her blouse onto her stomach. The heat of his body against hers was delicious. Her need to touch and be touched overcame any semblance of control as her body's primal instincts took over, pushing her further into her desire and into his arms.
He broke the kiss, pulling his lips away from hers, but never paused as he brought them down to devour her shoulder, licking and nipping fervently up her neck toward that, oh so sensitive, spot behind her ear. She turned her upper body back to face the shelves and leaned her head to the side, opening her neck, granting him more access.
Planting her feet, she brought both hands in front of her placing them on the bookshelf, leaning forward into it while pressing her back hard into his thigh and groin, rubbing his awakened length with her hip. She was rewarded by his deep groan, trailing off into a throaty growl. She gasped as he slid one hand under the hem of her blouse, trailing heat across her stomach as it moved upward to finally cup her breast. His thumb deftly slid back and forth across her tightened nipple pushing against the shear fabric of her bra, sending electric jolts straight down to her core.
His lips continued their adoration of her neck while his hot breath cascading across her ear and cheek. Her breathing was labored now, coming in shallow, panting gasps as her body responded to his ministrations. As he continued to pleasure her breast she felt his other hand reach down and deftly open the button of her jeans, sliding her zipper down part way. The warmth of his palm against her bare stomach, and then his fingers tracing small circles just above the apex of her sex, sent a wave of excitement shuddering through her as her body anticipated the pleasure promised by his touch.
Soft whimpers of pleasure escaped her mouth without thinking. She could feel her core, wet with building desire and the need for fulfillment long denied. Her hips still swayed side to side, but no longer to the music which had long since disappeared from conscious thought. They moved to the rhythm of his lips on her neck, the kneading of his hand on her breast, the teasing of his fingers in the blond curls of her arousal. His touch, his smell, his heat - it was overwhelming, intoxicating. She felt the world spinning away, out of control, beyond anything solid her mind could grasp. Her heart raced as she gasped for breath. Her body would allow no other option, she had no choice but to surrender.
The blaring ring of her phone across the room snapped her mind from under the spell of her body, bringing her awareness painfully back to the present. Guilt, fear, panic - all crashed in upon her. Gasping for air she brought a hand down inside her jeans covering Bishop's hand, stilling it's movement.
"I ...," she fought to calm her breath in order to speak. "I can't ...," she stammered, struggling to regain her senses. "Chris, I'm sorry ..."
He slowly pulled his hand away from under hers and gently slid his other hand from her breast and out from under her blouse. Placing a gentle kiss on her neck he moved both hands to her shoulders as she centered herself and stood up straight, still facing the bookshelf, her breathing ragged.
"No, EJ," Bishop said. "Don't apologize. I'm the one who should apologize."
Turning around she struggled for the courage to look up at him. Finally forcing herself to meet his gaze she said, "No, Chris. It's not you. It's me. I'm not ready ... I'm not ... healed. I still hurt about him."
"I understand," he said. "I shouldn't have pushed. EJ, you need to know that I …"
She placed a finger on his lips to silence him. "Don't, Chris. I can't hear that now."
He nodded, dropped his hands from her shoulders and stepped back.
EJ took in a deep breath, held it for a moment to steady her nerves and then exhaled. She stepped around Bishop, walking over to her coat and pulled out her phone to see who had called. Thumbing the redial button her call was answered a moment later.
"This is McGee," Tim's voice came over her phone.
"Hey, Tim," she responded. "You called?"
"EJ! Oh, yeah. Just checking in. Wondering how you're doing."
"Thanks, Tim. I appreciate it. I'm doing fine … never better. How's it going with the data search?"
McGee sighed, "Slow but sure."
"Thanks for hanging in there, Tim. I know it must suck. I'll see you in the morning."
"Oh ... OK. Well, ah,... have a nice night," McGee said.
She ended the call. Reaching down she zipped and buttoned her jeans, then smoothed out her top. Pulling her jacket off the chair she slipped into it, then turned to look at Bishop across the room.
"Chris, I need to go."
"Sure," he said. "I understand. Do you want me to walk you back?"
"No, thanks. I've got a badge and a gun. And Bremerton's not exactly a hot-bed of crime."
"Yeah, OK," he sighed.
"Thank you for dinner, it was really nice," she hesitated and then finished her goodbye, "I'll see you in the morning."
She turned and walked outside, pulling the door gently shut behind her.
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