Hey folks, this chapter is my idea of an apology for my tardiness in posting recent chapters. After this week is over (only 2 exams to go) I'll have more time to write *yaaaay* This chapter kicks the story up to an M rating, so if you don't like it, don't read it :)
Thanks to JoelTheCat, lieutenantflynn, JessJak and Natchez for the reviews :)
Flynn watched from the relative comfort of his desk as the other members of the squad went through the motions of adding new information to the murder board and threw around ideas of the possible course of events that led to Matilda Perkins' death. Thankfully, Willis's attention was being dominated by the chief and Gabriel, allowing him a short reprieve from the fawning gaze of the young sergeant.
Catching Provenza's eye, Flynn gestured for his friend to follow him down the hall to the break room. He only had to wait a moment for the older officer to catch up with him, unsurprised when he pulled out a chair from under one of the tables and slumped down into it with a heavy sigh. He gave Flynn a questioning look waited patiently for him to speak.
Flynn perched himself on the edge of the table and folding his hands together in front of him, keeping his eyes averted from his friend. "How do you tell a woman that you're not interested in her?" he asked suddenly.
Provenza, although surprised by the unexpected question, seemed to perk up from his grouching posture and grinned at Flynn, "You're finally breaking up with Raydor? Well it's about time!" as he paused, a flicker of…something passed through his eyes, "I might just win the pool!" he said enthusiastically.
Flynn's dark eyes widened and his mouth gaped open in something akin to disbelief, "What? Why would you? No! I love Sharon!" he sputtered, ignoring the 'oh sweet Jesus' that was provided in a groan by Provenza, before taking a moment to realise what else had been said, "Wait…what pool?" he asked hesitantly, not entirely sure he wanted to know what bets had been placed against him by his 'friends'.
Provenza shrugged nonchalantly and leaned back in his chair, "Ohh, it depends on which one you mean," he lifted his hand and began counting off fingers, "there's the one on how long the two of you would last, who would have enough first and kill the other…" he went to lift a third finger when he caught sight of Flynn's scowl, "What?"
"Does everyone think this is going to end in disaster?" he asked incredulously. Sometimes he wished that the PD wasn't like a small town where everyone knew everybody else's business, his relationship with Sharon was definitely not something he wanted to become a water cooler topic for some of the gossip vampires he knew worked for the LAPD. He was actually surprised that when they had started seeing each other they had managed to keep it secret for as long as they did before mutually agreeing it was time to inform their superiors and essentially tell the world. Flynn had insisted on breaking the news to Brenda alone, much to Sharon's disappointment, if only to keep potential arguments at a minimum, despite the fact that their recent 'truce' seemed to be holding.
Provenza let out a rumbling hum, "Yeah, pretty much," he replied flippantly, knitting his hands together across his stomach while a small smirk played across his lips, his eyes defiantly holding Flynn's glare.
It was Flynn who backed down first, averting his dark eyes with a sigh and running his fingers through his silver hair. "So, how do I do it?" he asked again, both more hesitantly and desperately than the first time.
Provenza stared at him for a silent moment, his eyebrows lightly knitted together, "How do you do what?"
Flynn threw his hands up in the air in frustration and pushed himself away from the edge of the table, "Forget it." He growled as he made his way to the door, paying no attention to Provenza's sputtered protests.
He stalked his way back to the murder room, briefly stopping at his desk to hook his suit jacket with one finger and sling it over his shoulder. He grinned to himself when he saw that Willis looked extremely bored listening to Tao, no doubt receiving a rambling lecture about something technical that he would never in a million years understand even when broken down into layman's terms.
He glanced over his shoulder into the chief's office to see her standing at the window, a ball of silver foil in one hand and a half-eaten Ding Dong in the other. She glared at him and made a shooing gesture until he dipped his head in submission and gave her a small thankful smile.
Settling himself into the driver's side of his car, he rested his head against the back of his seat and let out a long, cleansing breath. As he turned on the ignition, he reached over and turned on the radio, a wide grin spreading across his face when it automatically changed to the CD that had been left inside and started playing. Sharon's favourite CD.
He let it play as he drove home, enjoying the satisfying combination of country and soft rock as he wound his way through the busy streets of LA. He could imagine Sharon sat beside him, singing along almost self-consciously at first, coming further out from behind the impenetrable wall she kept erected around herself while she was working the further away they got from the precinct until she was echoing the lyrics fearlessly on the rare days they were able to carpool.
He carefully pulled into the empty space beside Sharon's Crown Vic in the driveway; surprised it was there at all after half expecting her to have completely ignored him earlier and gone back down to her office to work instead of enjoying the rest of her day off.
As he neared the front door the sounds of Andrea Bocelli's tenor and Sarah Brightman's soprano washed over him, and he was struck by how seemingly uncharacteristic of the straight-laced Sharon Raydor her eclectic taste in music seemed to be. A trait that he found endearing. Letting himself into the house quietly, he threw his jacket over the banister of the stairs before calling her name. When only the chorus of Canto Della Terra answered him, he kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie before trekking through the modest but spacious one-story house that they shared.
When he reached the master bedroom, he was unsurprised to find her reclining comfortably against the over-large pillows she had insisted on having when they had been furnishing the place, her glasses perched low on her nose, a thick, paper-bound copy of a novel he didn't recognise and in all likelihood would never read in one hand and a sparkling glass of white wine in the other.
She didn't look up as he entered the room, instead electing to take a small sip of her wine before setting it on the table to the side and slowly turning the page of her book, the whisper of the turning paper mocking him as much as the smirk pulling at the corner of her lips did. Even when he crawled onto the bed and tucked himself as close to her as possible she continued to ignore him, theatrically turning another page and pushing her glasses up her nose.
He cleared his throat and released two loud, exaggerated sighs before she finally chocked back a laugh, threw the book to the side and pulled her glasses off her face. "Hi," she grinned at his boyish smile and reached for the remote to the CD player to turn down the volume of the music until she barely noticed it in the background.
"Hello, Lieutenant. How was your day with the your little admirer?" she arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her stomach.
Flynn groaned and lolled his head back against the pillows, "Exhausting."
Sharon made a small 'humph' and ran her fingers through the thick hair at his temples, "Should I be worried?" she asked, her tone telling him that she still found his predicament amusing.
"Not unless you think I have a thing for young and desperate." With a glance at her eyebrow rising higher, he replayed his words and winced, "That didn't come out like I meant."
She hummed and leaned over to press a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, "I know what you meant." She murmured against him, unprepared when he cupped the back of her head with his hand and turned his face slightly to capture her lips fully, taking the opportunity to caress her tongue with his gently when she sighed contentedly.
The tie he had loosened was gone and the buttons of his shirt undone before he had a chance to process what was happening. He was equally stunned to find that Sharon had shifted until she was seated fully in his lap, not that he minded. He reached to tug at the edges of her shirt, only to have his hands slapped away.
He laughed and pulled away from her until he could see her darkening eyes, "I thought I was going to make it up to you." He reminded her as he toyed with the gentle curls of her hair.
She chewed lightly on her lower lip as she moved to unbuckle his belt, "I changed my mind." She deftly freed the button of his trousers and pulled the zip down, grinning from ear to ear as he squirmed lightly beneath her.
He rolled her carefully to the side and scrambled out of the bed, kicking off his trousers and boxers in one swift move and removing his shirt as quickly as possible without getting tangled in the fabric. When he turned back to face her, he found that Sharon had done the same and was waiting for him with a predatory smile on her lips.
With a tip of her head she told him to get back into bed and that she was going to be taking charge, something he was all to happy to let happen. Settling back into position, he waited for her to make her move. She climbed onto the bed beside him and perched herself on her knees without saying a word. He was used to her being mostly silent when they were like this, preferring to communicate everything only with loving touches and meaningful looks.
He didn't look away as she studied him intently, watching as her eyes moved over him in long arcs. After a long while she caught his gaze, "Are you sure I have nothing to worry about?" she asked him earnestly, the smallest trace of uncertainty colouring her voice.
Flynn reached out and softly cupped her jaw, sweeping his thumb across her cheekbone and smiling when she automatically leaned into his touch. "Positive," he replied, his voice so steady and honest that it brought tears to her eyes. She stubbornly blinked them back as he pulled her closer, brushing soft kisses against the corners of both her eyes and the tip of her nose before he released her.
She caught his hand before he could move it away fully and laced her fingers with his. He gave her a small, encouraging pull and she shifted until she was straddling his legs. She smiled at the change in his breathing as she leaned forward and kissed a trail from the base of his throat to the sensitive spot just below his ear.
He tilted his head to the side to give her more room and hissed when she took the opportunity to mark him. He knew what she was doing; claiming him as hers, and while he enjoyed it, he knew that he would regret it in the morning, especially as she was purposely marking above where his shirt collar would be, in a place where it would be clearly displayed for days.
She soothed the spot with gentle kisses and steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder while the other journeyed down past his torso and went to tease him with barely there touches. She felt him shudder beneath her and heard a heady groan, but for the life of her could not figure which of them it had come from. His fingertips pressed hard against her hips and she knew there would be bruises there tomorrow, his own way of marking her.
Sitting up, she guided him to her and settled torturously slow onto his hard length, her eyes dropping shut at the electric pulses that fired simultaneously at all of her nerve endings. It was a familiar feeling, but one she hoped she would never get used to, one she hoped would feel new and exciting each time they were together. She could feel him trembling lightly with the force he was using to keep himself still as he waited for her body to adjust.
When she started moving slowly above him, he brought her down and kissed her deeply, pulling gentle sighs and quiet moans from her as he did so. Sharon rotated her hips just so, emitting a strangled sound from him and forcing him to release his hold on her lips. She took the opportunity to lean back, steadying herself with her hands on his thighs.
He absently noted the intense expression of concentration on her face, her lower lip caught by her teeth and her eyes closed as she focused on her movements, pushing them both closer and closer to the end. He sat up enough to capture one swaying breath in his mouth, delighting in the surprised gasp she released. He licked and nibbled at the soft mound until he could feel her beginning to shudder violently, only stopping to move to its companion to pay it the same attention.
He held her close as she rode out the tremulous quakes of her climax sending him over the edge with her. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and inhaling the lingering aroma of her perfume, combined with the light vanilla of her hair and scent that he had come to realise was uniquely Sharon. He tucked her hair over her shoulder and kissed her collarbone as she relaxed against him.
"I love you." He murmured against her warm skin, just loud enough for her to hear without breaking the ambience that had settled throughout the room. Not that it helped.
They both let out simultaneous groans of frustration at the shrill ringing that was emanating from the pocket of Flynn's trousers that sat forgotten on the floor. "Ignore it," Sharon breathed, not ready to give up their moment of intimacy, which was all too rare in her opinion.
She sighed when he manoeuvred her to the side and tucked the duvet around her. "I'm sorry," he said softly, kissing her briefly before leaning over the side of the bed to scoop his trousers off the floor. Giving her a small smile, he pressed the answer button and held the phone to his ear, "Yeah, Flynn."