Author's note: Woohoo! You have no idea how many re-writes I've done of this, it drove me mad! But I'm glad it's done and I actually like where it's finally going. Yay. I'm not too happy with the title (cliché alert!), but it serves its purpose somewhat. So... enjoy!

P.S. Is anyone else as ecstatic about the new adjustable width feature here and on fictionpress? Seriously, wide blocks of text are horrible for the eyes, it's something we learn in design. It makes your eyes strain. Guess why books are 6x9 (hardback), 5.5x8.25 (trade) and 4.20x6.75 (paperback - size is approximate)... although there are other book sizes, but these are the defaults. Because the eye is happy with short lines of text!

All right, design lesson over. Now it's reading time! :D


SINNERS: lucky number three

Some days lasted much too long, Ginny thought when the rice beef was ready. Her whole body felt like it was hung in some alternate dimension with no floor to keep her upright, no walls to touch, and no space to hold her. Discarded. She was... nonexistent, unimportant.

Dragging a serving spoon into the hot wok, she dumped some of the content in her plate and covered the vessel again. Then she walked bonelessly back to her kitchen table that was propped against the wall with its piles upon piles of notes and ancient bills she hadn't looked at in forever, mainly because everyday they seemed to grow bigger. As she looked at them for what seemed like the first time in weeks, she wanted to set fire to the pieces of paper. Maybe it'd feel good to incinerate something else than her heart. Wasn't it precious that a dead heart could kill everything else in you? She felt... nothing.

Her phone's little light was blinking, indicating that someone had called during the day and left a message. Let me guess... my landlord? Hermione? Despite being a witch, Hermione had kept many muggle tendencies in her adult life. Something about the phone being quicker than owls and requiring no cleanup. She'd indulged Hermione, like many of her friends had.

Ginny punched the blinking button and leaned her hip against the table. It always amazed her that a muggle machine could replicate human voice so... well, not accurately, but well, in any case. "Gin? This is Hermione. I was wondering if you were free tomorrow evening. Ron bought us tickets to the Weird Sisters concert, but we don't have a babysitter for Rose yet. Let me know if you're available. Thanks!"

Was she available? Of course she was. Did she want to babysit a crazy one-year old child? Not exactly. But she was a great sister and friend, and an even better aunt. How could she refuse?

Reaching for the phone, Ginny shuffled a lone paper off the digits, then punched in the familiar numbers, and waited. This was what she hated about the telephone. Wait, ring, wait, ring, wait, ring. Finally, voice mail picked up with a cheery message by her brother, telling her to leave her name and phone number and that he or Hermione would try to reply as soon as possible. Then a loud beep sounded. Her cue, apparently.

"Hi, this is Ginny. I'm available tomorrow night. Just let me know what time and I'll be there. And, well, you have my number. See you." She put the phone back in its cradle as the paper she'd brushed off caught her eye. It was so tiny, so not a bill. Frowning, Ginny flattened it before her. Her jaw promptly dropped.

Ginny,

My place is at the Kensington Mansions on Earl's Court. Room #3. Please.

Draco.

Forgoing any kind of logical thought or, bless it, her mind, Ginny clutched the paper hard in her fist and left her supper to cool on the table.

#

She stalled in front of room number three, losing the nerve she'd had at home. The large ebony door looked ominous, reminding Ginny that she was ridiculous to think that Draco truly cared enough to see her again. There was no way she fit in his lifestyle. True, she'd come a long way, but he was bred into a different world. Not hers.

Never stopped my Black ancestor from marrying below her station.

With that thought vivid in mind, Ginny squared her shoulders… only to deflate once more.

I can't handle lies. She couldn't take it if this was all a ploy to embarrass her, let alone break her heart. I don't want to hurt anymore. Then she sighed. Only one way to find out.

Lifting her fist that was wrapped around Draco's note, Ginny knocked once and hoped like hell she'd made the right decision.

#

Draco paused just as he was about to turn the doorknob. Eyes widening, he stared through the peephole and sucked in a sharp breath. It was her. What to do, what to do? With quick jabbing motions, he removed his thin jacket and planted it on a random wall hook before throwing open the door.

"Ginny, hi." Manna in heaven, she was here.

"H – hi," she breathed, going rigid. "I – uh – I got your message. Now."

"I was afraid you wouldn't get it."

She glanced down at the crumpled piece of paper in her palm. "I almost didn't find it."

Draco groaned. Yeah, that would have been expected. "Next time I'll be more obvious," he vowed aloud.

Her eyes snapped to his, widening ever so slightly, but she remained quiet.

Suddenly Draco recalled his manners. Stepping aside, he gestured her in. "Please, come in." Like he'd done this so many times before.

Slowly she walked in, cautious and taking his suite in at once. Draco watched her awestruck features as she missed nothing , from the cool contemporary look of the place to the textures and colours.

"It's… beautiful," she breathed. "Very chic. Very… you." She frowned a bit at the last, as though knowing him that well was surprising. It was, in a way.

"The Kensington people decorated. I'm only renting."

She turned to smile with an understanding nod, and he had to look elsewhere and cough. "So… have you had dinner yet?"

"No… Are you inviting me?" she asked carefully.

"Yeah. I – uh,I was about to order something in. What are you interested in?" He walked toward the kitchen and produced a few flyers from a cupboard. "We have Japanese, Italian, French –"

Ginny interrupted him softly. "I made rice beef. Before I came here." She ducked her head, blushing. "Er, it's not fine international cuisine, but it's good."

His stomach growled at the prospect. "Ginny," he pitched the leaflets away, "it sounds great."

She looked up and met his eyes. "I'll be right back."

As soon as she was gone, Draco whipped out his wand and cleaned up. He took out the necessary cutlery, glasses and dishes, and a 2004 Les Valozières Bourgogne. He was just lighting up candles when she popped back in with a hot wok held in both hands. She had taken off her tailored crème jacket, displaying the pretty pink dress underneath. Draco pocketed his wand and smiled agreeably as he approached her.

"Smells amazing," he said, pecking her cheek before taking the wok from her. "Come." He led her to the lavishly laden table and deposited the pot. "Sit. I'll be right back."

Ginny gripped his wrist before he left. "Wait." Her hands were cold, moist. She was nervous. "Why?"

"Why?" Draco's mind went blank.

"Why tonight? Why last night?" Draco's body burned in remembrance, in anticipation. "Why me?"

And then his whole being froze.

There was something so revealing, so denuding, about telling her the truth. Moreover, the fact that he'd only quite recently discovered that he wanted to know her inside and out was more than he'd be prepared to admit as of yet. Hell, he'd done it all wrong, hadn't he? He knew her body more than he knew her mind. And presently, that body was tense, closing up around itself, wanting protection… from him.

"Why you?" he parroted weakly. "Ginny, I don't know."

"Was I just a trophy?" she asked suspiciously.

His eyes nearly bugged out. "What? No! Whatever makes you think that?"

She bit her lip. "Then… what? What am I to you? Why did you want to see me again?"

He wished he could tell her, but then he'd most likely scare her away.

His silence seemed to deflate her. She sighed, disappointed. "Nevermind. I'd hoped… Let's just eat and then I'll be gone."

"No."

She looked up, brows drawn high in her hairline. "No?"

Hell, he'd surprised even himself. "Please stay. For dinner and afterward. Please." Draco hated pleading, but she'd reduced him to this.

For a few instants she remained frozen just like him, looking like she'd just discovered the strangest species of lizards. "Why?" she asked in an astonished breath, as though the concept truly escaped her.

Draco did the only thing he could think of. Leaning into her, he took her mouth and slid both hands into her hair, sighing. Good God, he was lost. She tasted like wildflowers on a hot, sunny day. She felt just as warm and woman as the previous night. Perhaps even more so, he couldn't even think straight. Slowly, Draco retreated, feeling a wild sort of pride that his lips could leave her looking so pink. Her mouth was open in a speechless 'o' as she sank into her chair with a dull 'thump'.

"I don't want you to leave, do you understand?" he said quietly, and she nodded wordlessly. He felt compelled to touch her, anywhere, right now, but instead he sat across from her and reached for the wok handles.

Nothing would disturb their dinner, their first date, as it were. Not even his raging erection.

#

They made small talk – how was your day, good you, oh the usual, looks like we'll have rain tomorrow – and the rice beef was just like her mother's had always been. All in all, a very respectable evening with a respectable man in a more than respectable flat. She liked it all but… something very important was missing, and Ginny didn't know what.

Perhaps this was the real Draco Malfoy. After all, what did she know of the respectable pureblood life? What did she know of the lives of the rich and famous? She'd only known Draco in the sack. And what a truly fantastic few moments in the sack they had been. But… something was off here.

Draco forked away the last bit of passion fruit mousse in his plate and sat back to enjoy the last remnants. Then he glanced at her, and his content smile vanished. "Liqueur?" He rose, walked toward the corner of the room and reached into an armoire. There he rummaged noisily for a few instants, during which Ginny's initial unease mounted tenfold.

He doesn't know what to do now that dinner's over. We were never that mundane.

"I have mint liqueur, Limoncello, Bailey's…"

Slowly, Ginny joined him as he ratted off the contents of his alcohol cabinet, and lay a hand on his shoulder. Instantly, he stiffened, and let out a hoarse curse.

"Nothing, I'd like nothing," she murmured.

Draco glanced back over his shoulder, and she was seared. Smoky, dilated, nearly black, his pupils ensnared her, though he did not even move. She sensed the powerful restraint in him, and her own blood kicked with the knowledge that she could affect him so.

"What do you want?" he asked huskily.

Oh, nothing very respectable at the moment, thank you very much… "We need to talk."

The corners of his mouth turned down. "About what."

She noticed he hadn't formulated it as a question. "About you – and me – and what's going on." She paused, removing her hand. Like that, he turned around and faced her, looking grim. "What's going on?" she asked.

Draco's eyes veiled, becoming hard and the customary Malfoy unyielding hauteur – without the sneer. "I was under the impression that we were having a nice evening together, supper and all."

She nodded slowly. "What comes next, though?"

His hand came up to caress her hair, sliding fiery strands through his long fingers. With a strange longing in his expression, he breathed out evenly, "Whatever you want."

Warmth speared through her at his words, taking her breath away for a moment. Dear God, the man would be the death of her. Her fingers found his wrist, clasping hard. "Draco, be serious." Her gaze implored him, genuinely afraid. "I don't want… I need to know how you –"

She was cut by her own lack of mind the very instant Draco's lips touched her throat. Words became one drawn-out moan where nothing became more important than the feel of Draco on her. Then his words penetrated her.

"I don't think I can say it, Ginny," he murmured at her ear before nibbling it. "There's no way I can say it."

Despite her body's response and his obvious answer, she had to know. "What am I to you?"

He pulled back, his face deadly earnest. "Never a pity fuck. Never a trophy. Believe me, I could never lie about that," he said, pushing his lower body into her.

Ginny didn't think she'd ever tired of feeling him hard and strong against her. "But what about us?"

He captured her lips, toying and licking. "I dunno, but we fit well together, you and I, don't you think?" To support his point, he leaned into her from head to toe, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

She sighed in response. Crazy, how her body responded so genuinely to his.

Draco exhaled a shaky breath. "You remember last night? How well we fit?"

How could she forget when her body thrummed in remembrance where he'd touched and stroked? There was no stopping the liquid fire from stirring within her loins, wanting him again and again. "Y – yes."

"How I touched you? " His voice, already hoarse, broke on this sentence as he spread his hands over her belly, sweeping upward to meet her breasts. "Like now?"

She nodded, shivering. Her power of coherent speech was suddenly gone as she threw her head back and absorbed every pressure and flick into her whole body.

Draco's voice grew unnaturally strained as he pressed his mouth to the column of her throat again. "I couldn't fake that, Ginny. Never. Do you understand?"

Completely devoid of words, she couldn't help her moan as he did fantastic things with his mouth and hands. But all too soon, he stopped. "Don't," she protested feebly, groping blindly.

"I propose a date," Draco halted quickly, unbuttoning his shirt. Seeing where he was heading, Ginny went to work him him even as he backed away toward the living room. "We've eaten dinner, made small talk, talked some more. Do couples have sex on a first date?"

Her movements were jabbed as they attempted to unclothe him as fast as they could. "I dunno, but seeing as this will be our third time…"

After a moment, his shirt came off. They both attacked her dress with frantic calculation. "Yes, we've burned our bridge early, haven't we?" Draco said wryly.

"I wish we hadn't. First time magic and all."

Her dress was unzipped and fell down swiftly. "Screw the first time. We can make magic any time," he growled as the backs of his knees connected with the couch. He sat, pulling her down on top of him. "Mm, you witch, you cursed me."

Her smile was evident in her voice. "How?"

"Imperio. I can't even think straight."

"Then think loopy," she said. "Like this," she demonstrated by rolling her hips.

Draco's eyes rolled in his head. "Merlin."

Ginny stopped, cocked her head, and sighed dramatically. "Once again, Mr Malfoy, you're overdressed."

He looked down at his slacks and groaned. "Mind taking care of me?"

She nodded solemnly. "My pleasure." And proceeded to unzip his trousers, freeing him at last. "I like how you think," she said with a quick smile, taking him in hand.

"Mm, you too," he rasped out, palming her bare buttocks.

"Thanks." Ginny allowed herself a kiss. As Draco stealthily slipped a finger inside her labia, she couldn't help the hiss. Or her hips. They pressed back of their own accord, arching for more. "Draco."

"I don't think you can fake, either. Can you?"

"No." Ginny rested her forehead against his, aware that their breaths were both short, almost in sync. There was something empowering in her reaction to him eliciting that effect from him. "Please."

He freed her, hands going loosely to her hips, leaving her in control of any situation she wanted. Wasting no time, she sank down onto him, seeking his mouth. Draco trapped her tongue, dueling deliciously with her. "I'm no actor, Ginny," Draco breathed when she began a slow stroke.

"Could have fooled me." She licked his throat. "You're an excellent male model, Mr Malfoy."

For a few moments everything stilled as Draco stared at her, holding her hips steady. Then he seemed to steel himself. "I couldn't get you out of my mind today. Viviane is not you, but I made her become you. I saw… you."

Transfixed speechless by his admission, Ginny lifted a hand and wasn't shocked when his mouth latched onto it as if it were milk to a cat, then sought her mouth once more. A great moment had just passed between them, and she wasn't sure where it would take them, but she counted merely on instinct. Her body began the oldest rhythm in the world as they explored one another on a basic level.

"Dear God, I want you," Draco moaned into her neck, his long fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips.

A slow smile bloomed over Ginny's face as she beheld his beautiful straining biceps, holding her close and letting her feel the beat of his heart. "You have me," she emphasised by an especially delicious upstroke that tingled through her every nerve ending.

"Mm, more… than that."

"Tell me, Draco," she whispered hotly in his ear, whimpering when one of his hands palmed her breast, making heat zing through her. She arched, creating a different kind of friction that sent Draco reeling headfirst.

His last words before spending himself were gritted, but she heard them perfectly. They were growled possessively. "Love… you…"

Ginny touched his cheek, brushing away sweaty locks that had become matted to his forehead, and watched his features grow taut as he came. Her heart soared.

He loved her.

#

Ginny's mouth was the first thing Draco became aware of. It was attached to his neck, leaving wet and cooly-burning traces behind. Next came the realisation that he was still inside Ginny. Then the bone-deep knowledge that he wanted to stay that way forever. Thoroughly overwhelmed, he searched through his foggy memory for a time when he'd felt so richly satisfied before. None came.

How had it come to this? Weren't they just so-called enemies in school?

After a time of peaceful quiet, Draco heard a wholly feminine sigh and slowly shifted to see Ginny's face. She smiled as she met his gaze, stretching like a cat. He drank in the sight of her high breasts and glorious long hair, wanting to touch but content just to watch.

"Do you know what you just said?" Ginny asked as she lay back into him.

"What?" he said lazily.

She burrowed into his neck again, mingling her scent with his. "You love me," she imparted huskily. Then she drew back to survey his reaction to that piece of news he surely didn't remember saying aloud.

Draco became still. "Did I?"

Her smile vanished as cold dread descended upon her. Oh no… In her mind she was calling herself all kinds of stupid for falling for his ploy twice. How did the saying go? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me? Yes, very definetely.

Draco seemed to snap out of whatever trance he'd been in and then looked at her, really looked, as he filled his hands with her, pulling her closer. "What about you?"

Well, he wasn't denying.

Ginny blushed to the roots of her hair and dropped her gaze. Looking at him was too hard. "It's too early for love."

Draco frowned. "Six years, Ginny. That's early?"

She disentangled herself from him and stepped away. Unable to look at him, she stared at his penis flopping lifelessly into his lap. "I don't know, I just don't know." God, what a mess.

Angrily, Draco stood up. "What's this, then? A third one-night stand? You came to me, Ginny, remember that. It wasn't just you impersonating your doppelganger in a brothel or me feeling sorry for you."

Her gaze snapped up to his, eyes wide and wounded. "You felt sorry for me?"

"No!" Draco cried, and rubbed his face with a low groan. "I wanted… you. I left you that note so I could… see you again. I couldn't… not see you, not after –" He stopped talking and sighed.

Ginny stood completely frozen, watching him and feeling her chest blow out of proportions over her heart.

"Why did you come here tonight, Ginny?" Draco asked wearily.

"I…" But she couldn't. Not to him. Not with him. It just wasn't possible. They were so antithetic. Two polar opposites. He, so remote in his feelings; and she, so prone to passion. He, a male model, for chrissakes; and she, a hardworking businesswoman. Yet just as she thought this, she realised just how shallow and unfair she was being to him. He's not totally unfeeling or we wouldn't be having this conversation. And our jobs do not define us. No way was she going to label them that way. 'Him' and 'her'? Sure. Beyond that was off-limits. No way.

Draco waited, tensed like a prisoner awaiting execution.

Ginny heaved a breath, her senses all ajumble, and then blurted out quickly, "Don't ask me to love you. Not yet. But I hope…" She stepped up to him and slid her hands down his hard forearms. "I want more than this, us, like this."

Through lowered lashes Draco watched her, unmoving. "So what are you saying?"

She grimaced. "I want to date you," she replied, thinking the word was so unfitting for them.

A small smile split his lips. "Good answer." And then he planted his mouth on hers, taking her breath away for the moment.


Author's note: Is there more? But of course! Although I have my little idea where this is going, I haven't started chapter 6 yet and so I can't leave you with a little teaser. Sorry!