Title: Beyond the Fear
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: M.
A/N: I am stunned at how many lovely reviews I got for only two chapters! Here's hoping they will continue!
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Shifting beneath heavy covers, Brennan burrowed her head into the pillow, murmuring in soft delight that she was glad it was Saturday. It had been a long time since she had allowed herself to sleep in and as the comfortable warmth of the bed enveloped her, she tucked herself deeper into the blankets, listening to heavy rain rap against the window. After a long moment, she parted her lids, her eyes adjusting to the grey light.
When she remembered it wasn't Saturday at all, she froze. The bedside clock told her it was nine thirty, and she was not in her own bed. Nor was she in the bed of any man she knew. Her mind completed the world's fastest jigsaw, and all the pieces fell together as she recalled the warm interior of the guest house. She dispelled the breath she'd been holding, sitting straight, holding the duvet to her breasts. The mattress beside her was empty, the sheets disturbed where he had been sleeping earlier.
Blinking, she took in the ashes of the fire, no longer burning. Her cheeks, however, were hot as she replayed the events of the previous evening, starting with a forgotten bottle of wine at her apartment and ending on the bed she sat on. She pressed her fingertips to her head, wondering why she didn't feel as though she needed to run. Surely, subsequent to sex with Seeley Booth, she was programmed by default to escape. Wasn't she meant to be afraid?
The door opened, and she saw him, fully dressed in his clothes from the night before, carrying the Washington Business Journal, when he looked up from the newspaper, he caught her eye, and smiled. "Good morning," he said, folding the paper in half, dropping it to the armchair she had sat in. "I bet you haven't slept this late in a long time." Brennan raked her fingers through her hair.
"No, I have not," she agreed. "I'm late for work…" Booth sat on the edge of the bed, his hands on her shoulders, easing her body back against the mattress. She willingly followed his lead, reaching up to stroke her fingers along the rough line of his jaw, peppered with day old stubble. He leaned into her, his eyes falling closed as he luxuriated in her touch. "I have to admit," she whispered, "I am some what unfamiliar with what I am meant to say… especially to you…" he opened his eyes again, leaning forward to touch his lips to her forehead. She sighed, knowing that, in the real world, far away from the lovely Virginian countryside, being with Booth, or having any ideas about it, would be wrong. Yet, lying in the big, warm bed, she could do nothing but imagine it. Would every morning be so content?
"We're beyond small talk," he whispered, his hand slipping beneath the covers, his fingers brushing the underside of her breast. Her body was instantly awake, her nipples taut. Her spine curved towards him, her hips rotating small circles on the mattress. "It's okay to be a little shy, though…" she hummed, the sound never moving beyond her throat. "You should call the lab," Booth said, his finger circling her areola, tracing the puckered flesh. She sighed.
"Why?" He kissed her throat, her chin, and finally her mouth, a hard crushing kiss that she was not prepared for. "Aren't we required to vacate the room soon?" she asked, her voice muffled by his lips. He left moist, warm kisses along her chest, taking her nipple into his mouth, replacing the repetitive motion of his finger with his tongue, each movement making her clitoris throb. Her fingers tightened around the sheet, gathering the soft cotton into bunches. His teeth nipped gently, and she moaned, her hand slipping between her thighs, her fingers dipping into the slick wetness of herself. He lifted his eyes to hers, his lips suckling on her as though she would offer him sweet nectar.
"I've extended our stay for one more night," he said. "Think of it as an extended birthday." She ought to have protested. She ought to have protested yesterday, when the whole dangerous charade began. But especially now, when her birthday was over, and there were simply no excuses for lying in bed with him. She had plenty of work to be continuing with, back in DC, where the real world still ticked by.
"One more night…?" she sighed, moaning softly when his fingers joined hers, instantly coated in her wetness. She let him stroke her, her voice a whispered prayer. "Is that because, once we're back in DC, the events which," his name fell from her lips, almost as though the noise emanated from a different mouth, altogether, "occurred here… will be strategically erased from our memories…?" Booth slipped his finger inside her, flexing his joint, stroking the satiny inner walls of her womb. She pulled her lip between her teeth, the plump skin marred by the pressure she applied.
"I hope not," Booth replied, his thumb circling her clitoris. "You're the perfect compliment to me, Bones. Sexually, I can't remember feeling so alive…" she lifted her hand, sinking her fingers into his hair, her nails digging hard against his scalp. He kissed her lips, hard and crushing. "I should hope that, when we are back in DC, you'll always feel as liberated as you did, last night." With his fingers massaging her flesh, touching her body as a master musician might tune an instrument, Brennan was not sure she could refuse him anything.
"I can only try," she whispered, lifting her hips, urging his finger deeper into her body. He bent his finger again, stroking the cushioned flesh and she whimpered, release flooding through her body in shuddering, coursing waves that left her sated, her body weak. "Booth…" she whispered, turning her hooded eyes to him, darkened with arousal, watery with unshed tears of euphoria.
"Shush," he sighed, stroking the backs of his fingers along her rosy cheeks. "You are a million times more beautiful when you don't frown." She smiled, tilting her head, absorbing the delicate warmth of his skin. She caught the scent of soap from his fingers, and breathed in to inhale deeper. Inside her chest, her heart continued to beat like a Celtic drum, so hard she felt the vibrations of it in her stomach, her throat. "Phone Angela, tell her you won't be at work today. She's probably frantic with worry…" Brennan nodded, shifting beneath the duvet. "Take my phone…" He stood, lifting his newspaper from the armchair, where his cell-phone was tucked inside. "And when you're finished, shower, and meet me outside for breakfast." He kissed her nose, smiling when she tilted her face, seeking the warm sweetness of his lips.
"It's raining," she said, her eyes flickering across the room to the window, marred with crystal rivulets of water.
"Just come outside," he urged, tucking his newspaper under his arm, striding across the room. When she was alone, she dialled Angela's number by heart, sagging against the pillows. After two rings, the phone clicked and she heard the bustle of the lab.
"Booth? Have you seen Bren? She hasn't arrived yet…" Smiling, Brennan pressed her fingertips to her cheeks, feeling the hot flush of embarrassment.
"Ange, it's me," she said, closing her eyes, prepared for the interrogation.
"Brennan? Why are you using Booth's phone? Why haven't you answered your phone?" Pulling the blanket to her chin, she smiled, enjoying the secret, quite pleased that she was indulging in a forbidden liaison with her partner. It felt illicit – it was – but she loved it. Her heart thudded again, giddy with girlish anticipation. In the end, she decided against divulging too much.
"I don't have my phone with me," she explained. "Booth brought me to Virginia to celebrate my birthday." Angela gasped.
"You sneak!" she exclaimed. "You blew off Satin for a night in the country with Booth!" Brennan knew she wasn't upset. "So, how was it? Did he give you enough wine to release all your inhibitions?" Brennan thought of how he stood next to her atop the lighthouse, urging her to free herself of her decade-old fears.
"We talked a lot," she said. "I had an enjoyable time." Angela was quiet for a moment, as if encouraging her to continue. Brennan pressed her open palm to her chest, her fingers resting just over her breast, where she could feel the still-rapid staccato of her heart. "I'll be back tomorrow."
"You're taking a personal day? Are you kidding me?" There was rustling on Angela's end of the phone. "Hey guys!" she called, her mouth turned away from the mouthpiece. "Brennan's taking a personal day!" Temperance felt her cheeks burn as she imagined her colleagues formulating theories.
"No way!" she heard Hodgins exclaim. "Who's sex could be that good?" he mused, and she groaned, her voice muffled by her pillow.
"Three guesses," Angela replied.
"Okay, stop!" Brennan said, pushing the duvet off her body. "I'll be back tomorrow and no speculating, okay?" Angela laughed.
"Oh sweetie, I can't make idle promises. Have a lovely day…"
When the line went dead, Brennan swung her legs over the edge of the bed, moving across the room to where her robe was draped now, over the back of the armchair. Slipping into the cotton garment, she made her way to the bathroom, breathlessly delirious as she imagined what physical activities Booth might have arranged for her today.
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Thank, thank, thank you everyone for your wonderful reviews! I am so grateful! And Gayle, I hope you feel better soon!
Night-night everyone!