A/N: Hello, again! I'm having a bit of fun writing these ficlets…I hope they're as much fun to read? I don't know. I hope that y'all are enjoying them. Anyway, I'm not going to make any promises about how many more chapters I will write, but if people are interested in seeing this continue, I will try to write and post as often as I can.
Thank you to all who have viewed, favorited, followed, and a big shout out to those who have taken the time to leave a review. Your words of encouragement and/or appreciation mean the world to me and often inspire me to write more when my muse is absent.
The show Rizzoli and Isles, and its prospective characters, do not belong to me. I take NO credit for them. All rights belong to those who have reserved them.
Song inspiration for this chapter (and possibly a part two to this chapter) is "Jealous" (featuring Tinashe), by Nick Jonas.
I hate dressing up.
I hate dressing as much as I hate my ma pestering me about grandbabies and my own "ticking biological clock". I hate dressing up more than paying bills; more than underwear shopping.
I hate dressing up more than I hate defense attorneys. And that's saying a whole hell of a lot.
The only thing that is capable of making the act of dressing up more uncomfortable, is having to dress up in preparation to attend a high-dollar charity function at one of the most prestigious country clubs on the East coast.
Where I am currently trapped…dressed to the nines.
Most of the uppiest upper class members of society that are attending this event are only here to increase their social status and public perception. Many can barely even remember the name of the organization they are funding.
I've happily found an inconspicuous corner to hide in, in this large banquet room. After we were excused from our seats following three consecutive hours of guest speakers and honorary presentations, I needed to find a little space to myself. I sigh in relief as I do my best to blend into the décor and do a bit of people watching.
This is really not the kind of company I generally keep. In fact, as per usual, I feel like a fish out of water when attending such gatherings.
I allow my attention to jump from one group of guests to another. I suppose you could call it eavesdropping, but I like to refer to it as being perceptive.
I listen as men talk about who has the most expensive cars and yachts, while the women gossip about the latest scandals. I swear, it's like I've stepped into an episode of "The Real Housewives of Whogivesafuck".
So, some of you may be wondering what a blue-collar, full-time working woman such as myself is doing at a high-dollar event such as this. Why am I willingly wearing a thousand dollar pant-suit, which has given me a wedgie that has ridden up so high I could probably floss my teeth with it?
Many of you may already know. Maura asked me to be here.
In my defense, I did try to null and void my voluntary participation. After all, it really isn't fair for her to ask these kinds of things of me after she had spent an entire night introducing me to the magical world of "Multiple Orgasm Land".
Here's the thing, I'm a woman, and even I thought such a thing was a myth. But, with the determined ministrations and medical know-how of my generous lover…I came so many times I lost count.
So, I suppose I can't say she didn't earn my presence here tonight.
Memories of that mind-blowing evening, alone, carried me through at least two of the three tiresome hours at the start of this evening. I found myself gulping my ice water, more than once, as I reminisced about the moments when Maura had sent me spiraling into an earth-shattering orgasm, then persisted with her efforts, so aggressively, that orgasms started crashing into me, without pause, for minutes at a time.
Minutes at a fucking time! I swear to God.
We almost didn't even make it out of the house this evening, as we were preparing to leave for this event.
I had been waiting by the front door of Maura's home when I first observed her glide down the stairs; her perfect body encased in an emerald green dress, with tasteful gold accents and matching heels, that clung to every one of her deliciously feminine curves. The bottom of the dress stopped just above her knees, showing off an appropriate, but still enticing, amount of porcelain skin.
Her honey-blonde hair hung in loose ringlets around her angelic face and she fixed me with a thousand watt smile as she took in my own attire.
Of course, she had picked out (and paid for) the suit, and had it tailored to my exact measurements for occasions such as this. But I will proudly admit that I took it upon myself to apply a smokey-eye make-up to my face and even forced myself to struggle, for over an hour, with my unruly head of hair until each strand was straight as an arrow, laying perfectly in place atop my head.
After an intense session of spoken compliments and plentiful eye-sex, we managed to make our way out to her car.
Speak of the beauty…
I'm roused from my musings as I catch sight of my doctor, strolling effortlessly, confidently, through the crowd of people separating us.
I won't say that she fits in in this environment, because she really doesn't. She stands out, just as much as she does on crime scenes, like an entire galaxy positioned against a backdrop of simple stars. She may be rich, but she is so far beyond just rich. Her genuine heart and caring nature make her a treasure that many admire, but few will ever have the capacity to truly comprehend and appreciate.
"Thanks." I say, gratefully, as I accept the champagne that Maura holds out to me. I hum in appreciation of the incredibly expensive refreshment as the bubbly liquid tickles my throat on the way down.
"You're welcome." She smiles as she takes a sip from her own glass, then joins me in scanning the crowd.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" She asks, while still looking out at the sea of people.
"More so now, now that all the speaking is over. If I could just get rid of this wedgie, I'd be set." I say, smirking into my glass when I hear her exasperated sigh.
"Here, hold my drink while I fix my undies…" I hold my drink out to her, half joking, half serious.
Seriously, this wedgie is killing me.
"Absolutely not." She says, not even entertaining me with a glance in my direction. "You can either wait, or go adjust yourself in the restroom."
"Come on! I'm desperate here. And, besides, there's been a line to the women's restroom for the past 45 minutes!", I plead to her.
"Well, I suppose you'll just have to manage till the party is over.", she response as she gives me a pointed sideways glance.
I grumble a little and try to discretely pick at my pants…to no avail.
I eventually abandon my efforts and go back to observing the party.
I had considered this part of the banquet hall to be fairly secluded, but people begin to fill the space around us as they recognize Maura. I suppose I could hide under a table, but a crowd would surely form around me so long as the notorious Maura Isles was by my side.
I can't really blame people for giving in to her gravitational pull. Her beauty, kindness, and intelligence naturally draws people to her. Also, the absence of any hardware on her left ring finger makes her a beacon of light for any bachelor, young or old, with even a single heterosexual bone in their body.
I often have to clench my fists at my sides, or bite my tongue when men of all ages and professions approach and flirt with her.
Like I said, I can't really blame them…but it still pisses me the hell off.
While Maura falls into the roll that is expected of her and converses with those around her, I stand not too far away, nursing my glass of alcohol. I don't really even pretend to be a part of their conversations like I did when Maura first started bringing me as her plus one. No one really pays attention to me anyway, and I'd just as soon not have to talk to anyone.
I do a fairly good job of blending in behind Maura, until I notice a man approaching my doctor and then speaking to her.
"Maura! I'm so happy to see you again. You look absolutely gorgeous."
As tall, dark, and handsome goes, he actually does fit the bill.
I feel my symbolic hackles raise as he steps into my Maura's personal space and puffs out his chest like a proud bird.
Maura engages the man in polite conversation as I begin to glare at him from my position a few feet away. I know I've met him before. The more I think about, I remember that Maura introduced me to him (as her partner, no less) after she had given a lecture at Boston Cambridge. I remember that he's a doctor, but I can't quite put a name to his face. It's nice to see that he is so respectful of the fact that the honey-blonde's girlfriend is standing less than four feet away as he sneaks peaks at Maura's chest when she turns her head.
Asshole.
I do my best to bite my tongue but step forward as he utters a request, his flirtations growing to an unacceptable level.
"Maybe we could arrange to have lunch later in the week…or dinner if you'd prefer. I would love to hear more about your current research…"
Strangely enough, Maura doesn't immediately shut down his advances and I catch her peering at me from the corner of her eye. She just doesn't seem too bothered by whats-his-name, and that only serves to agitate me more.
Here we go, I can do nothing to stop it. Jealous Jane is coming out in full force.
I don't think of Maura as my possession. She is a grown woman with her own will and freedom… but I do think of her as mine, simply for the fact that she has offered that right to me and I happily accepted.
When someone is hitting on her, I can't seem to stop myself from reverting back to my Neanderthal roots.
Jane angry. Man go away. Jane want Maura.
Ugh.
I take several purposeful strides that bring me to stand directly beside my girlfriend and I place a hand on her elbow, drawing her attention to me.
"You doing okay, Maur?" I ask and her brow quirks in question as she takes in my demeanor, no doubt reading the jealousy emanating from every fiber of my being.
I expected Maura, with her high-powered perception, to realize that I am taking this opportunity to stake my claim. I hoped that she would get the hint and excuse herself from this man's flirt-laden conversation to come with me….somewhere where he is not present.
But she doesn't.
"I'm doing very well, thank you Jane. David, do you remember my girlfriend, Jane Rizzoli? I believe the two of you met at Boston Cambridge? During the lecture I gave last fall?" Maura speaks, smiling at David as she motions toward me.
My eyes narrow at the copper-blonde as she extinguishes my hope of avoiding having to actually talk with the man opposite her.
My smile is tight and strained as I turn my head to look at him.
"Oh, yes! Wonderful to see you again, Jane. How has Boston's riff-raff been treating you?"
His smile is one of the fakest, and painfully brightest, I've ever seen. Damn, man. Did someone leave the whitening trays on a little too long? I feel like I should be wearing a pair of sunglasses to even attempt to look at his face for an extended amount of time.
I bite the inside of my cheek as I try to keep my amusement, and my annoyance, out of my tone of voice. "Good to see you too, Dave. You know how it is, every day serving the public is another day in paradise."
The man's smile falters, a hint of his own annoyance filtering through as he responds. "It's David."
Maura, no doubt, senses the rapidly building tension and intervenes before either one of us has a chance to say something that would risk drawing unnecessary attention to our little conversation.
"Jane, would you be so kinds as to refresh my drink, please?" The look she gives me is deliberate, letting me know that it is not merely a request, but the gleam in her eyes tells me that my brilliant doctor has an ulterior motive. I have no idea if it is a business motive or a personal one, but I'm am not very comforted in either case.
Why is she making me go? Doctor Dave here is the one stepping all in my space…why is she sending me away?
Still. I trust her. Unconditionally. So, I take her half-emptied glass out of her hand and offer a small smile before heading over to the bar area.
As I arrive, I set both of our glasses down and signal for the one of the waiters.
While waiting for my order, I turn back around to look in Maura's direction. I feel my blood pressure skyrocket and hear a distinct rushing in my ears as I take in the sight before me.
Doctor Dave has stepped even closer to Maura, and is leaning dangerously close to her as they share, what looks to be, a pleasant, but private, conversation.
I can't help but wonder why Maura has allowed him to get so close to her, but, like I said, I trust her with every piece of my heart.
The problem is, I wouldn't trust him with a ham sandwich.
I watch for several minutes as they continue talking. Dave is being inherently flirty, while Maura politely gives him her attention.
I feel my nerves increase as my order is called. I turn and grab the two glasses, but when I turn back around, I damn near drop them both. I have turned just in time to watch as Doctor Ass-Hat lifts his manicured hand and brushes a curtain of Maura's beautiful coppery hair behind her shoulder. Exposing the creamy skin of her flawless neck.
My flawless neck.
Mine.
My Maura.
The monster, known as jealousy, rages inside of me as I hand my drinks off to a stunned party-goer, without explanation, and march back toward Maura.
Back rigid, chest and chin stuck out in a show of authority and strength, I prepare myself to take charge of the unfolding scene.
About half-way to my destination, Maura turns her head and catches my eye. She smirks at me with an expression that I can't quite place and that same gleam still shining in her gaze.
I can't help but glare at my girlfriend, slightly. Does she think this is some kind of game? I know it's not her fault that all these horny mongrels hoover over her like she's a cat in heat, and I know that she loves me, but I still get jealous.
As I reach my girlfriend and her...whatever he is…she steps out of his reach and walks up to me. Her sudden proximity and intoxicating scent immediately serve to calm me. I glare over the top of her shoulder at Dave-O, who is standing behind Maura, seemingly staring at the back of her head, with a frustrated look on his face.
When his eyes shift to meet mine, he cringes slightly, then looks elsewhere. Satisfied, for the moment, I let my gaze fall back down to the woman in front of me.
"Where are our drinks?" She asks, with an innocence in her voice that is grossly betrayed by the devious smile plastered on her face.
"They're all out." My answer is short. Unamused. I feel more at ease, just for the sheer fact that Maura is now out of anyone else's reach, but I still would like to know what the hell it was that I had interrupted.
I can tell that part of her wants to laugh at my reaction by the way the corners of her mouth pull back and she presses her lips tightly together. But there is something else there, smoldering in those hazel orbs.
"I highly doubt that they have run out of champagne…" Our quiet interaction is interrupted by one of the last voices I want to hear at the moment as Davie-boy tries to butt in.
Still talking to Maura, not even acknowledging the man's comment, "I think the party has pretty well died down. We should get home." I place both my hands on either side of Maura's waist and give a firm squeeze to accentuate my point.
I feel, as well as see, my Doctor shiver in response as a light blush works its way up her chest.
After giving me a quick nod in agreement, Maura half turns back to David and offers him a rushed "Goodnight, Dave!", as I grab hold of her forearm and pull her toward the building's exit.
"It's David.", he responds…but no one is around to hear the correction.
After exiting the clubhouse and picking up Maura's car from the valet, we find ourselves driving down a winding road on our way back into the City of Boston. There is a palpable tension in the air as I drum my fingers on the steering wheel while glaring at the road ahead.
Through my peripherals, I can tell that Maura is 'fidgety'. Maura is never fidgety, and I find that the fact puts me even more on edge.
Despite my burning curiosity and the stark possessiveness that I'm fighting to hold back, I am able to keep my thoughts to myself. Whatever discussion we are going to have after the events of this evening, I refuse to let it happen in her car, where I would be unable to give it 100 percent of my attention.
As I pull into her driveway and park, I feel slightly disappointed. I had hoped that the drive would serve to help me calm down, but the silence that we endured seems to have only furthered my agitation.
I exit the vehicle, then walk to the passenger side to open the door for Maura and help her step out. I walk her to her front door, watch as she opens it, then walk in after her when she invites me.
As soon as we are both inside and she has shut and locked the door once more, my hands are on her hips, my lips pressed fiercely against hers, and I push her backward into the foyer wall.
I continue to kiss her with bruising, teeth-clashing intensity, until I feel her begin to grip my jacket in a desperate attempt to stay upright.
I rip my lips from her own and we both gasp for much needed oxygen.
"Care to explain what the hell that was?" I'm still a little breathless, but it's hidden by the fact that my voice has dropped to a growl that I usually only reserve for interrogating perps.
Her grip on my lapels tighten as she presses the length of her body into mine and nips at my bottom lip a few times. When she's finished, she looks up at me with fire in her eyes.
I'm relieved to see that she isn't going to pretend like she doesn't know exactly what I'm talking about.
"Do you know what you do when you get jealous like this? Do you have any idea what you do to me?" She accentuates her second question by gyrating her hips into my own. "Do you realize the way my body responds when you look at me like you want to claim every inch of it?"
My head is slightly swimming at this point, mostly from desire that is only fueled by the need to mark what is mine. What Maura willingly gives to me.
My hands are a little rougher than usual as I run them from her hips to her ribs and back down, forcing the hem of her dress to raise with each upward stroke.
"I can guess…" I respond as my fingertips trail over the skin at the tops of her thighs; the skirt having been pushed up to her waist, exposing her entire lower body to me.
Her hands slide up to lock together around the back of my neck. "No need for guessing when the answer is right in front of you…"
In a flurry of motion, our lips crash together and I lift her up by her back-side to hold her pelvis tightly against my own as she wraps her legs around my waist. Once she has secured herself around me, I wrap one arm under her to help hold her up as I press her torso into the wall behind her, providing some much needed leverage.
When I'm satisfied with our new position, I break our kiss.
"I didn't like the way he looked at you." I whisper directly into her ear, bringing the hand of my free arm to the inside of her thighs. "I couldn't stand how close he was to you." I nibble the lobe of her ear, then place a whisper of a kiss to it. "I hated it when he touched you." I forfeit any opportunity to tease her further as my fingers go right to her center and begin roughly massaging the hot, soaked material of her panties.
I begin to kiss along her jaw as her breathing picks up, until she gasps into my own ear. "I'm yours, Jane. Only yours."
The animalistic nature at the core of my sexual being howls in delight at the words and I rake my teeth down her neck. As I trail my lips back up the smooth expanse of skin, I give a sharp bite to her pulse point, then soothe the area with my tongue after she yelps in surprise.
I bring my lips back to her ear as my fingers eagerly push her panties to the side. The digits begin to slide along silky wet heat.
"Say it again, Maura." I demand. "I want to hear it again."
She practically whines in need as the back of her head hits the wall behind her. "Fuck, Jane. Yours! I'm You…"
The rest of her statement is lost in her own pleasured groan as I push three of my fingers, now slick with her essence, deep inside of her and set a frantic pace. I thrust in and out of her with reckless abandon, using my hips to help propel my fingers further into her tight sex, reaching for the place that I know will make her see stars. I know I'm successful when her groans turn into shameless screams and I feel molten liquid begin to pool in my palm, then run down my forearm to drip from my elbow.
She has reached the precipice of her orgasm in record time, and I have no plan to pull back or deny her of what we both want her to achieve.
"Come for my, baby. I need to hear you come." I'm desperate to hear her scream my name. To know that mine is the only one she will ever again scream with such raw passion and need.
She begins to chant my name over and over, seizing up as I feel her walls, almost painfully, contract around my embedded fingers. Her orgasm tears through her until she is able to relax enough to lazily roll her hips into my hand.
I gently caress her inner walls with my fingers until I feel the last of her orgasm flutter away. I remove the appendages from inside her, then carefully help her return her feet to the floor. Her arms are still around my neck and I'm still pressing her back into the wall, knowing that she will need the extra support for a few more minutes.
She closes her eyes and takes her time recovering. I use the opportunity to bring my hand, still shining with the evidence of her climax, to her neck, where I draw a slick trail from her collar bone, up to the sensitive spot just behind her ear. Maura hums in appreciation as I delight myself in running my mouth and tongue over the creamy treat, taking the time to thoroughly mark the area with generous love bites while enjoying the unique taste of my lover's desire.
Desire to claim? Satisfied. In more ways than one.
Once I am happy with my work, I wrap my arms around her lower back and pull her in for a long, deep kiss.
When we part, her eyes are shining and I feel a sudden panic at the thought that I was too rough with her. But her face splits into a deliriously happy smile and I instantly relax
She pulls me down and peppers my face with sweet kisses as she repeatedly voices her love for me.
She continues this for a moment or two until she drops her lips to my chest, whispering "I love you" directly to my heart, then bestowing the area with a kiss.
When she raises her gaze back up to meet mine, we have both settled and we take a moment to simply bask in our post-coital bliss.
After several minutes, the moment is broken when Maura shifts her legs and shimmies her hips, an uncomfortable look starting to cross her face.
My brows pull together in thought. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She quickly responds before trying to escape my grasp.
I hold her in place as I watch patches of red creep up her chest.
"Hives, Maur." I point out, before asking again. "What's wrong?"
She does the same peculiar little dance, then huffs and crosses her arms in front of her chest. "It seems that my panties have…shifted to an uncomfortable position during intercourse and I would appreciate it if you would allow me to go fix them."
I stare at her in silence for several seconds before asking. "….Do you have a wedgie?"
"Yes, I suppose that is the popular term for it..." She says, with an air of indignation.
I can't help myself as I give a full body laugh.
She looks a little putt off, but I take her face in my hands and kiss her square on the lips. Smiling into the contact.
She pulls away, giving me a curious look.
"Please don't tell me that 'wedgies' are a source of sexual arousal for you." She looks genuinely concerned.
I laugh even harder at her inquiry and wrap my arms around her, hugging her body tight to my own.
"I love you Maura." I say, kissing the crown of her head. "I love you so much."
I don't think I've ever been happier.
A/N: Well, that was longer than I intended. So…what's the word? Interested in more? Should I have left this fic in 2013? Let me know. Thanks so much for reading!
I have a few songs that reviewers have posted, that I will be working to put into chapters. Thanks!