Caitlin wasn't sure which of her senses picked up on Harrison Wells' presence in her lab but she guessed it was his smell since he hadn't made any noise. She sat up straighter and licked her lips, keeping her gaze focused on her computer screen. It had been four days since their encounter in his office. She'd been afraid to return to work; afraid that somehow people would know and she'd no longer be taken seriously in her job. Dr. Wells hadn't behaved any differently towards her, hadn't sought her out, hadn't given her any sly looks or coy comments and he'd managed to appear completely unaffected by her presence.
"Dr. Snow," he said, walking to her desk.
"Dr. Wells." She turned around as if she'd just realized he was there and stood up, smoothly, giving her usual, small smile.
"Do you have the stats from the medical journal analyzed yet?" He stood several feet from her and removed his glasses, polishing them with a soft cloth he took from his pocket. They were alone in a fishbowl with people walking past her door and window.
"Yes, of course," she said, turning to take a blue folder from her desk. "I have it here." She made her legs move and walked the few feet to stand in front of him, holding out the report.
"Thanks," he said, putting his glasses back on. The familiar shade of gold caught her attention and Caitlin realized he had been using her lace panties as a polishing cloth. He smiled when he saw her gaze glued to his hand. He rubbed the satin edging with his thumb and took the report, casually stuffing her panties back into his pocket.
"I'll get back to work, then." She felt the color drain from her face but didn't acknowledge the intimate fabric he carried.
"Sounds good," he smiled casually and turned to leave. His posture was relaxed but his words were soft, meant for her alone. "See you tonight," he said, over his shoulder. "Eight P.M. at your place; leave your door unlocked." He didn't wait for a reply and walked away.
At seven that evening Caitlin shaved her legs in the shower. She was always a meticulous groomer, not exactly vain, just precise. She dried off, put on her robe, and rubbed most of the moisture from her hair. Her bathroom door was cracked to vent the steam; she liked very hot showers. She picked up her bottle of unscented lotion and rubbed it into her smooth skin, taking care with her elbows and knees. She parted the front of her deep blue robe and gently touched the bruise in the middle of her chest. She heard her apartment door open and quickly closed her robe, walking into the hall near the door.
Harrison Wells walked towards her with purpose.
"I thought you said-" she began before he kissed her. He didn't stop walking but grasped her shoulders and shuffled her with him. The kiss was possessive but not rough. He didn't use his tongue, just his lips. He shed his coat and suit jacket, dropping them on the floor behind him until they reached the kitchen. Her fingers went to work on the buttons of his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. His skin was warm and smooth and she felt the tension in the muscles of his chest. He tugged at the belt to her robe and she paused as her modest nature instinctively wanted to stay covered. He smiled against her mouth as he parted the garment and stepped back to look at her.
Fair and sleek, Caitlin was slender and strong but had soft, feminine curves. Wells slid his hands up her sides and over her breasts, stroking and teasing them. A pretty flush came over her features and he was pleased to be the cause of her high color.
"Bedroom?" he asked.
"Back there," she replied, nodding over her shoulder. He toed off his shoes and left them on the floor, resuming his attentions to her mouth and breasts, steering them both towards the door she'd indicated. He let her robe fall to the floor once they were inside the bedroom and kicked the door shut. He was shirtless and she was naked. Her room was tidy but tastefully and sparingly decorated. Her restraint clearly extended to her decorating, he mused. The walls were creamy yellow with a light purple comforter and matching throw pillows; with a glance he took in the accent curtains, and the matching lamp. It was so very precise and so very Caitlin.
They both sat on the edge of the bed and kissed like teenagers. Eventually Wells pressed her onto her back and slid off the bed to kneel between her legs, bringing her knees over his shoulders. Caitlin blew out a slow breath and pressed the backs of her hands to her eyes. She trembled when she felt his warm breath followed by his lips as he gave her a gentle kiss.
"So sweet," he whispered, moving his hands under her buttocks. He placed his mouth on her and slowly began loving her with his lips and tongue. The first time, he'd been so aroused and impatient to be inside her that he'd only briefly tasted her; now he wanted to enjoy himself. He teased her with the tip of his tongue and used the tensing and relaxing of her leg muscles as his guide to her most sensitive areas. He was a quick study and soon Caitlin was pressing the heel of her hand against her mouth and biting down to keep from making noise. He sucked on her clitoris and fluttered his tongue lightly against her, making her arch her back and moan out loud. He sped up the tempo but kept the pressure light and was rewarded by her legs tightening around his neck followed by her small, rhythmic gasps. She got louder and grabbed one of her decorative pillows to muffle the noise she made when she came.
Heavy lidded and limp, Caitlin lay back, panting until she could catch her breath. She opened her eyes when Wells stood up. His eyes moved over her, taking in details. His hands went to his belt and he watched her face as he unbuckled it. He didn't smile, he just watched her with a serious expression. He unbuttoned his trousers but before he lowered his zipper he placed his hands beside her waist and held himself above her, touching her only with his lips when he lowered them to place a kiss on the bruise between her breasts.
Caitlin reached up to stroke the soft, black hair and she had a tender, sleepy expression on her face. Wells kept his mouth on her breasts while he unzipped his pants and took a condom out of his pocket. He paused to tear the packet open with his teeth and deftly used one hand to put it on. Once it was in place she shifted in order to push his pants down over his narrow hips. He urged her up closer to the pile of fancy pillows but let her grasp his erection and position herself. He nudged at her entrance and slid inside her smoothly. She closed her eyes and ran her hands down his back.
Wells started moving inside Caitlin, he used long, slow strokes at first. He treated her gently, like something precious, and kissed her. With her nerve endings still on alert, she started to pant quickly and to his delight, eventually climaxed again.
"Ah," she sighed, "Ah, yes." She closed her eyes and enjoyed the orgasm that rose and fell quickly, sinking into bliss. She gripped his back, damp with perspiration, and rolled her hips upward, opening her eyes to stare at him. She placed her palms against his cheeks and brought him down to her for a kiss. She was starting to take more initiative, starting to ask for things with her body.
Wells tugged Caitlin's legs up and rested her calves on his shoulders, opening her for deeper penetration. He sped up his thrusts, patiently building up the tension until his own peak arrived. He let out a coarse groan, and collapsed, letting her legs down but remaining buried inside of her. They were both damp and sticky but he waited until his breath was back to normal before rolling off her to dispose of the condom.
Caitlin was suddenly shy and turned away from him, scooting the covers back and sliding into the cool sheets. Wells joined her under the covers and pulled her into his arms. They shifted around until they were both comfortable and, to her surprise, he started to doze off. She slept for a few hours, exhausted from not sleeping well the past few nights.
A loud crack of thunder woke Caitlin suddenly. She was alone in the bed and guessed that Wells had left. She wasn't sure if she was disappointed or relieved. She had no idea what to say to him, they'd spoken little during and since the night in his office. She slipped out of bed, picking up her robe from the floor and putting it on. She used the bathroom and came out, noticing Wells' tall, lean form by the window in the kitchen. He stared out at the storm and didn't seem to hear her walk up. She edged past him into her narrow kitchen and took down a water glass. He turned and looked at her but she couldn't read his expression in the dark. She drained the glass and re-filled it, holding it out. He nodded and accepted it, taking a swallow before putting it down on the counter.
Wells was barefoot but had put his pants on and his shirt, leaving the shirt unbuttoned. Caitlin resisted the urge to take his hand, feeling a strange distance between them. Something was on his mind, something heavy; the expression was a familiar one, he wore it when discussing the Particle Accelerator project. She decided not to ask him if he was coming back to bed. She couldn't imagine waking up beside him on a Saturday morning; it would be too surreal, even with their current state of intimacy.