Haha! I enjoyed writing this one, hope you enjoy reading it :)
Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or it's characters.
7.
He touched her hand lightly. The electricity ran through her, her nerve ends tingling from her head down to her toes.
They stared into each others' eyes, their words unspoken, but both knowing; knowing where this was going to lead.
He leant his head against her cheek and whispered into her ear.
He got up slowly and made his way down the hallway.
A few moments later, she got up and followed, making her way into the bathroom, the only room in the house without a camera.
He was waiting for her.
For a few moments, they just looked at one another: and then they fell together, their open mouths crushing each other, their bodies pressed together tightly.
His hands roamed freely, over her back, along her waist, over the mounds of her breasts, inside her skirt.
Her hands held the back of his head, her fingers entwined in his hair, pulling his head closer towards hers.
He planted passionate kisses along her forehead, her cheek, her neck, lightly nipping at her with his teeth.
She groaned against him, her hands running over his buttocks, feeling the tautness beneath the denim fabric of his jeans.
He pushed her towards the vanity cupboard, and lifted her onto it. Her legs circled his waist, locking themselves around him.
He pushed her top up, his hands running over her breasts. His hand slipped into the soft fabric of her bra, and he stroked her with his thumb.
She moaned softly against his mouth, her hands dipping into the waistband of his jeans. She ran her hands over him and he pressed harder against her, bending his head down to her breast, his lips tracing an outline along the edge of her lace bra.
He pulled his head back up to look at her, his hands travelling along her thighs, hitching her skirt up. His fingers hooked into her underpants, and he pulled them slowly off her. She unhooked her legs from his waist to help him remove them completely. He tossed them onto the floor.
She looked deep into his eyes as his hands worked themselves around her body. Small noises were escaping her throat and she ground herself against him, wanting to feel him moving with her. Her hands were beneath his t-shirt, against his stomach, enjoying the feel of his tight muscles.
He groaned as her hands moved lower on his abdomen and he pushed against her, needing this badly now.
She undid the button on his jeans, and as he began to try to free himself from them, it suddenly dawned on her what they were about to do. She pulled back from his hold on her, panting, as he moved his head against her neck and kissed, moving her top aside to gain access to her shoulder.
She placed her hands against his chest and applied gentle pressure.
"Nick, stop."
He stared at her in almost disbelief, frozen to the spot, his breathing ragged, his voice hoarse with desire. "What's wrong?"
It was killing her to say it, but she knew that she needed to be responsible, get a grip back on reality, put an end to the madness.
"Nick, we can't do this. We can't compromise the assignment like this." She pulled her top back down. "I'm sorry."
She removed herself from the cupboard, smoothing her skirt down over her hips.
Flushing with embarrassment, she retrieved her panties from the bathroom floor and put them back on. She couldn't believe that she was doing this, that she was turning down sex with perhaps the most desirable man that she had ever met.
She ached for him, she wanted this so badly, yet she knew that they had to remain professional and that this could not happen, no matter how much they both wanted it.
Nick sighed, feeling completely deflated in more ways than one. He knew that she was right, and he was angry at himself for having lost self-control.
This couldn't happen, not here, not now when they were on assignment and undertaking duties in the interest of national security. What had they been thinking?
He cupped her face in his hands, gazing deeply into her eyes. He could see the desire in them, the regret.
"Jen" he breathed.
She placed one hand over his. "I know" she whispered.
She kissed him lightly on the lips, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke not only of regret, but of promises.
He leaned back against the bathroom wall, regaining his composure as he watched her walk out of the bathroom, self-consciously smoothing out her top, and padding down the sides of her skirt.
He sighed heavily. Things would never be the same for either of them, again.