Paige stood in front of the mirror and shook her head, watching her hair fall over her shoulders. She loved how it looked right after a blow dry.
It had been a long few days. Their case had taken them to China, to create and implement some equipment to rescue a team who had become stuck up on K2. Toby had wanted to force Happy to not go out there, and then had wanted to go with her. But she and Walter were who were needed to accompany the Sherpas, and Paige and Toby had clung to each other at base camp, Sylvester pacing behind them, taking comfort in the coms not cutting out and allowing them constant reassurance that the two were okay.
How Toby and Happy had clung to each other when they were reunited. "You and Walter were just as bad," Sylvester had commented when Paige remarked on it on the flight home.
Fortunately, there had been no loss of life, despite the weather and despite the fact that K2 had a fatality rate many times that of the more famous, higher mountain to its southeast. All eleven climbers, as well as Walter, Happy, and the three rescue Sherpas, descended safely.
Both Walter and Sylvester were asleep on Paige's shoulders when they landed back in Los Angeles.
Walter had showered first, and when he walked out of her bathroom, running his hands through his hair, Paige had had to remind herself that the reason she was undressing was so she could shower. He smiled at her, leaning over to kiss her forehead before climbing into bed, and if it wasn't for how gross she had felt after three days with no shower, she'd have joined him right then and there.
But now she was clean, and her hair was fluffy and gorgeous. Paige took a moment to run her hands through it, hoping to get a reaction when she left the bathroom. Being in a relationship with Walter, Paige almost couldn't believe she'd spent ten solid years celibate. He could get her hot without even trying, and she was like putty in his hands.
She'd always been this way. Her sex drive was almost nonexistent when she was single, but when she was in love, it was a completely different story. When she was in love, she craved the other person, and she loved Walter with everything she had.
One of the benefits of loving a genius fell into this category. He needed to be good at everything he did, needed to be the best, and it hadn't taken him all that long to master her. She often found herself wondering how on earth she had survived without his touch for thirty plus years.
She wasn't wearing anything under the tank top she'd put on after her shower, and she rubbed at her nipples through the thin material until they were visible. Tossing her hair again, she exited the bathroom.
Walter was laying back against the pillows, his eyes closed, and when she pressed a knee onto the mattress, shifting it, he opened them and tipped his head toward her, smiling. "Hey," she said with a grin, crawling over him and bending her elbows so she could put her lips on his. He kissed her back, reaching up and putting a hand on the side of her face. Paige hummed quietly into his mouth. She grabbed one of his hands, placing it on one of her breasts, and pushed her tongue into his mouth, her hips beginning to grind down on his.
"Paige," he said, gently pushing at her. "I'm sorry, I'm exhausted."
She sat up, frowning down at him. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah." He ran his hand up and down her thigh – he meant it as affectionate, but she wished he wouldn't. The ache between her legs was already uncomfortable. "But we didn't sleep much the past few days and I'm sore from helping carry Irving down the mountain."
"Okay." Paige reluctantly crawled off of him. "I wish you'd told me you were sore, I could have given you a massage on the flight home. Oh, I still can if you want!"
"Nah," Walter smiled warmly at her. "I can hardly keep my eyes open."
Paige leaned over and kissed him quickly. "If you're still sore in the morning, please tell me."
He nodded, his eyes closed.
"I love you," she whispered, squeezing his hand.
"I love you," he echoed.
Paige crawled in next to him, lying flat on her back with the covers drawn up around her, listening to the even sound of him breathing and hoping that her body would naturally unwind and let her fall asleep.
Nope. It was clear within ten minutes that that wasn't going to happen. Paige flipped the covers back and eased out of bed, heading for the bathroom.
She reached under the sink and found the box. Neither she nor Walter were terribly adventurous, so her 'dirty basket' was pretty much limited to vibrators. She selected one, stripped from the waist down, then climbed into the empty bathtub. She squatted down, clicked it on, and pressed it against her clit, reaching out with her other hand to balance on the edge of the tub. Moving the vibrator in slow, circular motions, Paige closed her eyes, drawing breath in through her nose and letting it out through her mouth. She kept it up for a couple of minutes, then clicked it to a higher intensity. "Shit," she whispered, her breath hot, her knuckles starting to turn white from gripping the side of the tub. Her circling motion located a spot that made her abs clench, and she stopped moving, holding the vibrator still against it. Her mouth fell open, and she squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to stay quiet.
It was her fault, she supposed, for making assumptions. After all, they had been through a long case and Walter had done a lot more physical labor than she had – although she would argue if he claimed he was in more pain than her; Toby's nails had been digging into her arm for the better part of the time Happy had been out in the snow. But Walter had always been so willing whenever she...
Paige blinked, opening her eyes and dropping the vibrator, which made her jump in surprise as it buzzed loudly against the bottom of the tub. She snatched it up, frantically clicking it to off. Her clit throbbed painfully, she wasn't finished, but she was most definitely out of the mood. She sat back against the back of the tub, leaning her head against the tile wall.
She and Walter had been dating since June, and now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember the last time he had initiated sex. He had, at least until recently, always been willing whenever she did, turning from his project or his book or abandoning his plan of sleep, but she was always the instigator. Though just last week, a night or two before their tryst on the couch, he'd told her he wouldn't have time to finish his project before the deadline, and now tonight.
He's exhausted. He's sore. Paige reminded herself that the reasons he'd given her tonight were completely valid. But she also couldn't help but remember when she'd been glad to have morning sickness if it meant she had an excuse to skip the class with the creepy anatomy professor who, ironically, never seemed to quite understand where her eyes were.
It wasn't so much him saying no tonight that concerned her. It was that and his rejection six days ago and the realization that she was always the one to start things. She bit her lip. What if he wasn't attracted to her anymore? What if he never truly was?
He loved her – she didn't doubt that. But maybe he didn't want her anymore – or maybe he never truly had? Maybe she was just one more thing to master, and now that he had, he had gotten bored.
She put a hand over her mouth, trying to stop any sound from coming out as tears found their way to her eyes. What if, all this time, he was just having sex with her to appease her? What if every time she started things, she was unknowingly pressuring him to do something he didn't want to do?
If this was the case, asking him about it would only make things worse. He would do whatever it took to keep her happy, she knew that. He knew how much it would kill her to learn that she had been pressuring him, so he would lie. He'd say she wasn't. He'd say he craved her as much as she did him.
But if that was the case, why wouldn't he get things started? It didn't make any sense. They'd be a completely celibate couple if it wasn't for her trying to jump him every other day.
Paige shook her head, trying to clear the uncomfortable word choice. She didn't view their physical intimacy as jumping. They made love. She knew he viewed it that way too; they both knew there was a difference between sleeping with someone and sleeping with someone you love, and she felt his love for her in every touch. She so badly wanted him to want to love her that way, and not just do it to make her happy.
Paige wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. I hate that I've been pressuring you. That's the last thing I'd ever want to do.
She stood up, grabbing the vibrator and climbing out of the tub, searching for the toy cleaner in her medicine cabinet. Once everything was as it was before, and her pajamas were back on, Paige wandered out into the bedroom, crawling into the bed next to Walter and scooting close, making herself the big spoon.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, stroking his arm as he slept. "It won't happen again."
She loved him more than she loved sex with him. If that's what kept him comfortable, she could go without.