Author's Note: Guess what I was doing all weekend, instead of working on projects that need to get done? ;-)

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MATURE SUBJECT MATTER (SMUT)

"I didn't lie to ya, Merri," he said, staring straight into her large, dark eyes. They were gorgeous eyes... in an awe-inspiring, terrifying sort of way. They were simultaneously one of the most beautiful things he'd ever encountered, so expressive and intelligent... and absolutely the most frustrating, how she could possess eyes so big and seemingly open yet keep so much hidden.

He heard is brother cross the apartment, fumbling with the sticky old latch on the front door. Dammit, Cade. Having him close, in his own home was both wonderful and infuriating... sorta like Merri's eyes. It was a relief to not wonder where he'd gotten to in the big old, dangerous world, whether he was even alive. But the price was that Chris was now responsible for him, not to just keep an eye on him, make sure he was fed and that he came home at night, but to try to keep tabs on his brother's mental state, to catch him before he fell, as it were.

"I wanna tell ya 'bout Savannah," he said. Honestly, talking with the woman he'd just spent all the previous night -right up until dawn- making love to, about another woman who he'd been half in love with before, wasn't at all something he wanted to do. But clearing up the misunderstanding that was obviously taking place was something he needed to do. He couldn't lose Merri, even if the sex was a one-time-only thing, she was still a friend, a good one, and his partner. The front door creaked open and slammed shut, drawing his attention sharply away from Merri's pretty, and currently unreadable face.

"Go," she said, and when he looked back at her, her expression was much softer, sympathetic.

"I'll be right back." He was already on his feet sprinting for the door before Cade could disappear on him without explanation. Normally, he wouldn't be too concerned, tried not to be harassing, since Cade had made a couple of friends (that didn't appear to have destructive habits) in the city. But there was something a little off about him lately...

"Cade, wait!" He caught his brother up, and they both stood in awkward silence for a moment, Chris uncomfortable and embarrassed, Cade frustrated but resigned.

"Ya wanna know where I'm goin'?" he asked, then added with a grin before Chris could confirm the reason he'd frantically ran out of the house to stop his brother was out of his sense of responsibility and concern, to check up on the older man like he were a small child, "So you know 'bout when I'll return, so as I don't catch you buck ass naked with that fetchin' partner of yours, goin' at it like rabbits in the middle of the livin' room?"

Chris felt his cheeks turn even redder. He could only nod in silent concession.

"Well, if ya recall it's Saturday mornin' an' I have a group session down at the clinic in twenty minutes."

"Right," Chris said, cursing himself for acting such a fool when if he'd just thought about it for half a minute he would've remembered. "Give me a minute and I'll give ya a lift."

"Ya don't need ta do that, baby brother." He clapped him hard on the shoulder. "I could use the walk. And ya have a guest ta entertain. I promise I won't wander off, or take candy from strangers. An' I'll be back well before supper."

What could Chris do? If he pushed the matter, he would only upset Cade, and rightly so, with what was smothering behavior. He could offer all the help he could, but he couldn't force his brother to take it, or even to tolerate what must often seem like coddling.

"Alright, I'll see ya in a couple hours," Chris said, calling after his brother's back as he turned and began to walk down the sidewalk, "Don't wander off the path,. And beware of wolves, brother."

Cade waved him off with a loud chuckle.

When Chris returned to the kitchen he found Merri washing the dishes, his old 'Bama t-shirt riding up as she moved so that her lace-covered backside was completely on display. Damn. He had not given those underwear their due consideration last evening, before they'd been removed and flung onto his bedroom floor in their lewd haste to get nekked. The blue lace hugged the curves of her ass like a second skin, outlining each shapely buttock in all of its pure round glory. The cut of them ran just above the hip, the bottom edge not even near covering her delectable ass. In fact, part of a purplish blemish peaked out of the bottom of the lace, a bite mark he had left in the middle of her left buttock. The muscles in her flanks tensed and released, a mesmerizing dance beneath the skin as she reached to place dishes in the upper cupboards.

After watching her for a minute, Chris shifted his weight, growing uncomfortable from the rapidity and severity of his burgeoning arousal. After the ridiculously vigorous usage over the past twelve or so hours, he sort of thought he might just have worn out the warranty on his equipment. But apparently not. Which was good to know for a man who'd recently realized he was closer to 40 than he was to 20. But he supposed that any heterosexual man who didn't respond to the sight of Meredith Brody's half-naked ass doing a little dance as she washed the dishes and hummed to herself likely had no pulse.

The minx continued her little display, and because he knew her well, Chris knew that it was done for his full benefit, that there was absolutely zero chance that she wasn't fully aware of his presence as he lingered in the doorway, and then slowly crossed the kitchen to stand behind her, placing his hands on her wriggling hips. They shimmied in a more exaggerated manner, her bottom pushing back against his crotch and drawing a groan from deep in his chest. Oh, she was just asking for it. But wasn't there a reason not to just jump her in his kitchen? Even though they were alone... He'd wanted to talk to her about somethi-oh, dear lord, her hands had found his, guided them to her full breasts so that he could feel the hard points of her nipples through the fabric of bra and shirt beneath his palms. He squeezed her gently, her flesh enticing, not too supple, not too firm, filling his hands, just mm... Why did every time he touch her feel like the first, full of new wonder and unbearable anticipation? She moaned with an enthusiasm that rivaled his own.

That was it. He couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing her by the waist, he lifted her slightly and spun her around, pushing her towards the kitchen table, a chair clattering against the edge as she fell against the wooden back, and then he himself was falling to his knees to place kisses on her lovely heart-shaped bottom. He gingerly tongued the bruise he'd marked her flesh with through the lace of her panties, and she made the strange little chirping noise he'd threatened to tell Cade about during breakfast. Every new quirk he discovered about the outwardly reserved woman only made Chris like her more, want her more. He divested her of the garment, and when she readily complied to his bending her over the back of the chair, he proceeded to take her with unreserved eagerness. That gorgeous ass of hers, as he'd learned at around 2am that morning, cushioned the thrusts of his hips with such perfection that she seemed made to be taken from behind, by him.

Then again, they fit together so well in so many different positions, that it was already apparent to him that their bodies were unbelievably compatible, one might even say designed for one another. God, being inside of her was unlike anything he'd experienced before. And he couldn't really say why, except that maybe it was just how perfectly she fit him, snug yet accommodating (with a little effort she could take him fully). Both soft and resistant. Warm. And wet. And most of all, best of all, responsive. Her every reaction to his touch, his kiss, his penetration, it only sent him higher into the bliss that was discovering Merri Brody in all her complex glory. She was currently breathing hard, panting really, her muscles quivering beneath her creamy skin in apparent indecision as to whether to relax into the frantic pace of his aggressive thrusts or to tense in outright resistance of his invasion. Despite the apparent doubts of her body, however, Merri was calling out his name in what was a decidedly encouraging manner, so he lay a hand on the small of her back and gently ran it up along her spine, beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt, and back down, massaging her lower back, coaxing her body into relenting as he mercilessly rammed his hips into the cushioning swell of her buttocks, driving himself as deeply as he could inside of her.

The last time before they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms that morning, for a whole four hours of uninterrupted slumber, they'd made love in a slow, languid coupling that was half-daze and half-dream. It'd been gentle and quite satisfying in its way. But now, apparently his more primal sex drive had taken over entirely and by the time he finished in a blaze of endorphins that threatened to explode his brain, he wasn't sure that he wouldn't now lie down and die, having theoretically successfully procreated, like so many creatures in the animal kingdom did. Except, it wasn't possible that he'd impregnated Merri. Okay, 'impossible' wasn't a completely correct word with birth control... just 'improbable.' But either way his body didn't know that. And his heart was still beating so rapidly in his chest as he lay on the kitchen floor taking in deep, ragged draughts of air that he wasn't sure if it might just fail him, as Merri clutching at the chair, sort of melted to kneel beside him. He reached for her and pulled her down on top of him, to find her just as breathless, making whimpering noises in the back of her throat that he knew were the signs of an orgasm that hadn't entirely dissipated from her nervous system, continuing to send jolts of pleasure through her in the afterglow of sexual release.

Well, he supposed that answered the question of whether he'd successfully gotten her off that time 'round when he'd been admittedly quite selfishly focused.

She was stroking his chest with her cool fingertips, which she'd slipped beneath his shirt to tease his sweat-coated skin.

"Do you do this with Savannah?"

He blinked as the words attempted to settle in his overwrought brain.

"What?"

"Savannah," Merri said, her tone smooth and even, quiet, almost sleepy, yet her words were undeniably weighted. "Do you and she do this sort of thing?"

"Ya mean fuck in the kitchen and then lie completely spent, cuddlin' on the cold floor before breakfast's even been fully cleared?" he said, cupping the round swell of one of her buttocks, squeezing it possessively, running his fingers down between her thighs to feel the sticky residue of their recent coupling. How could she think he'd do this to her, be with her in such a soul-stripping, intimate way when he was seeing another woman?

"Yeah..." Did he detect some insecurity in her voice? He put a knuckle beneath her chin, urged her to lift her face from where it was buried in his neck to look into his eyes.

"No," he said. "Savannah and I ain't any more a couple than you and Dr. Wilkins. We been out a few times, mostly lunch. But nothin' serious."

"Mm..."

She didn't sound convinced, and he wasn't sure why he felt the intense compulsion to explain the situation to her, that Savannah and him weren't like that, weren't like this. His old crush didn't make him want to throw all caution to the wind, didn't make him aware of every inch of his flesh, how all of his nerves hummed for her, craved her, Meredith Brody. Hell, Savannah didn't even know him as well as Merri did. She knew the old him, the boy he used to be. And in some ways that was worse than trying to date a complete stranger, because she thought she knew all about him, and therefore didn't really try to learn who he now was. Rather than being new and exciting, dates with Savannah had dragged him backwards into his past, which was fine... for a little while. He liked reminiscing, was admittedly a somewhat nostalgic man. But without even existing in the present, it was difficult to look to the future. Thus, he'd been seeing her less and less frequently. And he'd never gone to bed with her. Didn't even kiss her, really. Okay, he'd kissed her, because she was pretty and he did always wonder what it would be like. And it was nice. But after the previous night, after kissing Merri... he might as well had been that teenage boy with a crush sharing an awkward kiss with the girl next door when he'd kissed Savannah that one night after walking her to her door. On the other hand, Merri's kisses ran the spectrum from sweet to unbearably passionate, but always treated him as an equal, as a knowledgeable and worthy partner, almost like he were the only man she ever wanted to kiss.

She made love to him the same way.

It would be difficult to let this go. But he'd promised. So he'd suffer the withdrawal. But maybe 'one time' could mean 'one whole weekend'...

"You fall asleep on me?"

Her fingers absently traced teasing circles around his left nipple.

"Nah," he said, stroking her unkempt hair. God, he loved the ridiculously tousled mess it was, she was, when she wasn't all organization and neatness, when she purposefully lost control. "I was jus' thinkin' 'bout how I could convince ya that there ain't nothin' between Savannah an' me…

'Bout why I thought I needed ta convince ya..."

"When we're just having a brief, no-strings affair?" Merri said, he looked down at her, saw the apologetic expression on her face. She wasn't angry with him... but had she been jealous? When she was the one that set the terms of their deal?

"Speaking of…" He grabbed her hips suggestively rocking his pelvis against hers. "Should we return this to the bedroom?"

A/N: I think I know why I have a reputation for writing smut, now… But, god, it's strangely addicting to write. (I apparently have issues.)