Not mine, but a girl can dream.

Warning: language and sexual innuendo, smut is coming - I promise.

Better Man 4

From Lean Mean 13 p 181-182 (paperback)

I gave Ranger my phone. "Morelli wants to talk to you."

"Yo." Ranger said. He did some listening, and he cut his eyes to me. "Understood," he said to Morelli. "Don't expect miracles. She's an accident waiting to happen." Ranger disconnected and handed the phone back to me. "I'm in charge of your well-being."

"Morelli should mind his own business."

"That's exactly what he's doing. You're a couple. You are his business."

"I don't feel like his business. I feel like my own business."

"No shit," Ranger said.

What was worse, I was caught off guard by the couple status. "Do you think Morelli and I are a couple?"

"He has his clothes in your closet."

"Only socks and underwear."

Ranger parked in front of my parent's driveway and turned to face me. "You want to be careful of what you tell me. My moral code stops short of 'Do not covet someone else's woman.' You've been holding me at arm's length and I respect that, but I'll move in if I feel that barrier relax."

I already knew this, but having it said out loud was disconcerting. I didn't want to make more of it than necessary, so I tried being playful. "Are you telling me socks and underwear are borderline in terms of couple qualifications?"

"I'm telling you to be careful."

When Ranger issued a warning, he didn't do playful.

"That's just great," I said. "I'm so not good at being careful."

I had been trying to be careful around Ranger since our heated conversation a few days ago. I had mentally checked myself into a nice hotel in Denial Land and luckily Ranger's Chatty Cathy side had yet to resurface. There were still stolen kisses and innuendos, all initiated by him. Of course I didn't discourage him – would you? But since he didn't bring up our conversation, I wondered if he had changed his mind. I mean what had he really told me anyway? That he knew I wanted him? Big surprise there! He hadn't admitted to being jealous, but I knew it was there and I didn't know what to make of it. Plus he hadn't really said what he wanted from me and I wasn't ready to ask. Of course he seemed disappointed with the choices I had made in my life – well join the club buddy. I believe my mother is currently holding the office of President of that club and Joe was filling in as Treasurer; maybe Ranger could apply for the position of Secretary.

I was trying to be good and careful, really I was. But this last conversation between Ranger and Morelli – about me no less was pissing me off. But what I was really thrown by was the whole couple thing. I didn't feel like part of a couple. Joe once told me, "There's you and there's me, but there's no us." I mean Joe and I shared Pino's and a Ranger's hockey game about once a week and dinner at my parent's house when summoned; we had balls to the walls sex whenever 'the boys missed me.' He did have socks and underwear at my house, and I had the same at his. We never went out on dates. Half the time we had sex, he didn't sleep over – shit, if he had stayed the night Dickie disappeared I wouldn't be in this mess. And then he wanted me to claim I couldn't possibly have done it because I was so mellow after having sex with him. Puleez. Ass. I guess I should be grateful I hadn't been with Ranger that night. If I had passed out from a doomsday orgasm, I would have a chunk of time missing that I couldn't account for. But maybe hickies and sore muscles would be enough circumstantial evidence to get me off. For the murder charge I mean. Yeah right, that's what I meant.

"Playing with fire Babe." I looked up at Ranger, his eyes shone black in the moonlight. I wondered if I had said that last part out loud or if he noticed my nipples were now standing at attention since I had been thinking about him getting me off.

"Sorry." I crossed my arms over my chest. At least some of it must have been out loud. 'Stay away from the sex comparisons,' Good Stephanie said. Now is not the time to pull on the tiger's tail. 'But I could really use some relief,' Bad Stephanie thought. I was in a painful state and looking for release. How did I get here you may ask? Well, with Joe's stupid 'work assignment' I hadn't seen him in days and we hadn't had so much as phone sex. Between finding another charred dead body, surviving an explosion and getting 16 stitches in my leg my nerves were fried. Add to the equation I had spent so much time with Ranger the last few days that my eating habits were out of sorts and I haven't had so much as a Boston Crème donut since our last overheated discussion and my hormones had multiplied accordingly. On top of everything else, earlier in the evening I had to show Ranger my injured leg and he called my lime green thong pretty. By now it was pretty soaked and starting to get uncomfortable.

I shifted in my seat trying to get some relief. If I could just rub my thighs together just a little, maybe…ugh. If I didn't get this under control, I was going to have to take some more serious measures. I was pretty practical when it came to these things. Really, an orgasm was just like anything else; sure it would be nice if someone else was thoughtful enough to give you one, but sometimes you had to take matters into your own hands. At least that way you know it will get done and it gets done right. If Joe and I were a couple wasn't it his responsibility to see that my needs were taken care of? Yes! Did I rely on Morelli for all of my sexual needs? Hell no. He and my shower massager were at about a 50/50 split. And in no way do I delude myself that I took care of all of Morelli's needs. I mean it was common knowledge that all of the Morelli men were sex fiends. I always wondered if there was something between him and Terry, but even if there wasn't I am sure he was taking care of his own 'boys' needs several times a day as well. Sometimes getting off wasn't worth getting together. It seemed that on occasion we had each other, but we didn't need each other. What I needed was my shower massager.

"Not unless I get to watch Babe." His voice was deep and oozed sex.

Eek!

Distract, distract, Good Stephanie took over. "I disagree on the couple thing. Joe and I are not a couple." I was hoping to change the subject.

He snorted. Again with the snorting? "What would you call it?" he asked.

"Friends. Friends with benefits." I mean really it is what we were. We had been friends for my whole life, well not exactly friends the whole time. I hated his guts after the Tasty Pastry, although a lot of that anger was resolved when I hit him with the Buick. But he had been in my life for as long as I could remember, as a crush, the boy every girl in the Burg wanted. They say, in every girls life; there's a boy she'll never forget and a summer where it all began. The summer I was 16 was the one for me and Joe Morelli was that boy. Then the last couple of years we came back into each other's lives and started sleeping together. Now we were on and off again so much that most of the Burg had to have a score card to keep up.

"So you are fuck buddies." He said plainly.

"No! That sounds crude!"

He looked at me questioningly, "Explain."

I chewed my lip. "Umm, well…the difference is, umm…" There was a difference. I wasn't anyone's fuck buddy! There had to be a difference, I just couldn't think of one right now.

"Right. That's what I thought. So much for your I don't do casual sex rule." He replied smugly.

"Excuse me? I don't do casual sex!" Now I felt insulted.

"Are you and Morelli a couple? Do you use the terms we and us? Do you go out on dates or live together – other than when you have a stalker?" he pushed.

I slowly shook my head no, realizing for the first time we didn't do any of those things.

"So you are friends?"

"Yes." Of course we were friends.

"But you guys have sex when either one of you feels the urge?"

"You know how it is; we are on again/off again." I mean who didn't know Joe and I broke up and then had makeup sex on a regular basis? Most of the break ups were public and loud. Hell, last time my mom knew we broke up over dinner before our pizza was even ready at Pino's.

"Why do you go back? What starts the on again? Are you lonely? His boys miss you?" The last part he said with a sneer. Whoa. Since when do Ranger and I discuss my relationship with Joe? I liked it better when we just ignored the elephant in the room. It was starting to sound like he was judging me and it was pissing me off.

"So what if we see each other for sex when we need to?" My voice was getting a little louder. Why did he suddenly think this was his business?

"Are we friends Steph?" He questioned. I nodded yes. If I were honest with myself, Ranger was probably my best friend. He replaced Mary Lou a few years back when her days were filled with being a soccer mom and mine were busy trying to avoid my latest stalker. It was hard for us to relate anymore. And Ranger was always there for me. He had saved my life on more than one occasion and I was pretty sure that once he had even killed for me.

"Then why aren't you having sex with me?" he asked me like he was asking me why I liked the color blue. His voice was calm and steady, but laced with curiosity.

"I told you I don't do casual sex!" Was he thick or what? How many times do I have to repeat it?

"You do with Morelli. You said it yourself; friends with benefits. Why don't I get those benefits? God knows I am a better friend to you than he is." He taunted me.

I gasped. I felt like he had just punched me in the stomach. He was rubbing it in my face that for the most part Joe didn't support my choices, and blamed me for my exploding cars, finding dead bodies and gathering the attention of any psycho in the tri-state area. Not only that, Ranger had cast doubt on our friendship. He was the one person in my life who had supported my choices, who told me he was proud of me. He was implying that I should be fucking him as a thank you. He made it sound like I owed it to him. I snapped.

"Fuck you!" I screamed at him. I lunged forward and I slapped him. Holy fuck. I slapped Batman. I am so getting sent to a third world country. Fuck it. He deserved it. 'Maybe I should do it again,' Bad Stephanie egged me on.

He had a death grip on the wrist of the hand I had slapped him with. He hadn't even flinched. He was still wearing his blank face. I fucking hate that face! I just wanted to knock that look off his stupid face. He grabbed the other wrist as I brought it up to slap him again. I mean I was already getting sent to butt fuck Egypt, might as well make it worth the trip.

The next thing I know I was dragged over the console and I was straddling Ranger's lap. He forced my arms behind my back, both wrists held tightly in one of his large hands. His other hand came up to the back of my neck and forced my head up so our faces were just inches from each other.

"Answer me." He ground out. I should have been scared. Good Stephanie would have been shitting her pants. Unfortunately, Bad Stephanie was in charge of my mouth at the time.

"I. Said. Fuck. You." I had to put all of my fury into my words since I couldn't use my hands to give him my favorite Italian hand gesture for emphasis.

"But you won't fuck me. So I am asking you again, why not me?" His voice was even again, but he was far from calm. His blank face started to slip and I tried to read the emotions I saw flicker across his face – anger of course, but I think I saw hurt too. He leaned closer, "I know you want me. I know you remember that night, what we had. Every time I touch you, kiss you, I feel it. I know you do too. I've seen you with Morelli – his arm around you, him kissing you. It isn't the same. Hell, it doesn't even come close. So I can't believe between the sheets it is much better." He tightened his grip on the back of my neck and pulled me towards him so he could whisper in my ear, "He doesn't make you feel the way I make you feel." He licked the shell of my ear and I shuddered. Stupid Hungarian hormones. My head was pissed, my heart was broken, but my body wasn't listening. His lips moved down my neck kissing, licking, and biting. He felt my nipples harden against his chest and he let out a small angry laugh. "If you are just scratching an itch, why not choose the best man for the job?" With that he sunk his teeth into my neck, sucking hard.

I moaned, but tried to stay focused. "I can't do that with you and you know it." I whispered harshly. I tried to pull back from him, but his grip was like iron.

Incredulous, he asked, "Why not? I don't know shit."

"It's different." I answered, trying to calm myself.

"It's better." God, he smirked at me. Bastard.

"It isn't about that." I glared at him, but I didn't deny it either.

"Then what is it about?" He wouldn't let it go.

I paused for a minute before answering defensively, "Joe and I, we have history."

"He's safe." He retorted.

"What do you mean he is safe?" And who the fuck put you in charge of my sex life? I wanted to add.

"He's what is expected of you." He said through gritted teeth.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Now my voice was rising again.

He closed his eyes and almost sighed before he continued; the anger was gone from his voice. "You grew up in the Burg. Your whole life you listened to everyone tell you what and who you should be. You married that ass Dickie because it was expected of you. That is when your damn luck started. You found him fucking Joyce on the dining room table and you had an out. You raised holy hell and for the first time in your life, you started to fly. You got out of the Burg, got yourself a job at E.E. Martin and got a life. Even when you were laid off, you had the balls to blackmail your slimy cousin into a job you had no training for. You took on Morelli as your first skip, a seasoned cop and you brought him in – against all odds. But when he came back in your life, you got sucked back into the Burg and what your mother and the gossip mill thought." I was floored. I never realized he spent this much time thinking about me, or my life. Plus, for a man who normally spoke in one word sentences, this was a damn soliloquy. But he wasn't done yet.

"You stay with Morelli because the sex is good, convenient and comfortable. He is an acceptable boyfriend by Burg standards and he is safe. You love him, but you aren't in love with him. He wants you, but only if you give up flying and embrace all that the Burg holds dear, the house, a white picket fence, 2.5 kids and pot roast on the table at 6:00." He looked almost sad.

I wanted to respond, throw out a bitchy reply to justify my actions, but I had none. I felt defeated. He wasn't wrong. I knew it was true – all of it. I just denied it. But to hear him say it, to call me on it was embarrassing. He was right. Ranger had a knack for seeing things as they are and not pulling any punches. This punch hurt like hell. My eyes started to burn and I could feel the tears poised and ready to fall. All of my anger drained out of me and my shoulders slumped. I turned to look out the window, unable to look at him. "Then what are you doing sitting here with such a pathetic failure? Why do you care?" I blinked, trying to keep the tears at bay.

He released his grip on my wrists and caressed them to relieve any soreness. His hands continued to rub circles up my arms to my shoulders. He cupped my chin and brought my face to his, making sure I was looking at him. He held my gaze. The anger in his eyes was gone, the sadness too, now they were filled with concern. I dropped my eyes, unable to look at him. I felt like such an ass. He caressed my jaw and brought my eyes up again. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss against my lips before pulling back and looking me in the eye again before saying, "Because I believe in you." At his words, I blinked and one big fat tear slid down the side of my face. He used the pad of his thumb to brush it away, and then he paused for a minute, like he was remembering something before quietly continuing. "When I met you in the diner that day, you took my breath away. Not only were you gorgeous, you were fierce. I had never met anyone like you. You were confident, courageous and determined. You were in way over your head, but you kept your chin up and just kept treading. I didn't think you'd last a week. Not only did you bring him in, you have brought all of them in Steph. Every single skip. Hell, even I haven't done that."

"Wow." I am so eloquent. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. I spent most of my life listening to people tell me what a miserable screw up I was, I didn't know what to do with the emotions brought on by the words he spoke to me. Ranger was the only one in my life who ever praised me and usually it was limited to a "Proud of you Babe." That one sentence always made my heart swell and I felt like I could do anything. But to hear him describe me in those terms, I was overwhelmed. So I did what any girl would do, I cried. I threw my arms around his shoulders and held on like my life depended on it, because I felt like in a way, it did. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly to him. He used one hand to rub circles on my back while his other was stroking my hair, my head tucked under his chin. I collapsed against him, sobbed like there was no tomorrow and held on for dear life. When I couldn't seem to calm myself, he started rocking me gently, back and forth, murmuring soothing words of Spanish in my ear. I don't know how long we sat like that. When my tears ran out and my sobbing was no more than an occasional hiccup, he tucked me back into my seat and buckled me up. We drove silently back to Haywood. I was nearly catatonic and only minimally registered when he removed me from the truck and carried me up to his 7th floor apartment. He set me down on his bed and stepped back. I whimpered at the loss of contact. He quickly shed his boots, weapons and t shirt. He stripped me of my clothes, leaving me in my panties and slipping his t shirt over my head. He climbed into bed, and pulled me into his arms.

"Shhh… Quidera," he whispered as my sobs threatened to reappear. I heard more soft Spanish words and then before I drifted off he kissed my ear and said quietly, "I believe in you Babe."

3312 words minus title, warning, excerpt, yada, yada, yada.