Author's Note: Thought I had forgotten about this one, too, huh? Well, I sort of did. But I'm beginning to have the Cherri feels again. So some more of this ridiculous romance/smut fic.

Chris LaSalle was trying to play games with her. The only questions were whether he thought he was actually getting away with it, and why the hell he was attempting to manipulate her at all? He could have her anytime. Didn't he know that? Didn't he equally know that his attempt at messing with her was beginning to irritate the control freak in her (which she was not too vain to admit possessing)? And the part of her who liked to play games was chomping at the bit to answer the challenge.

If she set it free...

They'd be in the midst of a game of sexual tension chicken. And the end result was liable to be someone burning up in a fiery crash.

Merri looked away from the two-way mirror, the scene of Pride doing his one-man rendition of 'Good Cop Bad Cop' on the unsuspecting suspect, in order to gauge her fellow-agent-turned-friend-turned-lover-turned-adversary's mood today. It was quite apparent which role he was fulfilling at the moment, as she caught him full-on staring at her, with those goddamn intense blue eyes of his.

God, she hated when he gave her that look. His stupid, adorable, charming mischievous little boy grin was goddamned bad enough, inevitably melting her insides. But that seriously intense look of his, that seemed to flay her very soul from her body... It didn't melt her insides. It sublimated them, solids instantly rendered vaporous. Didn't he have any clue? Didn't he know she'd be utterly useless to him in such a state, destroyed by his razing gaze?

Or is that what he wanted?

She began to page through all of their encounters in her mind, likely a fatal mistake given that her libido was currently like a tightly coiled spring, bound to be set off even by the minutest change in pressure, let alone another twist. But she found the answer she was looking for, even as her body temperature seemed to rise several degrees over her exploring such recollections as the taste of his sweat-beaded skin and the feel of his aroused flesh filling her, torturing her with sweet ecstasy, plying her with such delicious friction...

And then she realized why he was playing these games, teasing her, working her up to a high-strung state of sexual frustration, and then walking away. He wanted to control her. Well, not control her. That wasn't at all the man's style. But perhaps, he didn't want to always be controlled by her. In all of their encounters, she was undeniably the dominant partner, even when she'd let him lead, when he'd taken her. Because that's how she thought of it, even afterwards, even now when -if it weren't for that last iron thread holding her resolve in place- she'd beg, yes, beg the man to take her. Because in her mind, subconscious or conscious alike, it was only ever because she 'allowed' him to have sex with her. She had never thought of it as his granting her the honor of possessing his body, but that was precisely what their relations were. Them being together, it was wondrous and amazing, and she was as much his as he was hers...

Damn. She hadn't let it show, hadn't let him see her feelings, how much she goddamned liked him, respected him, wanted to be with him. And at this point, she wasn't sure that even a direct conversation about her feelings would suffice.

It was quite the conundrum.

...

"What's this?" Chris looked up from the small piece of paper with an expression of pure confusion. Which made perfect sense, since without context, it seemed quite random for her to show up at his door, ask to come in, and without any further explanation, hand him the folded note with the single phrase written by hand in black pen.

"It's a Safe Word."

His eyebrows lifted before they furrowed even deeper, his lips pursing and his head cocked like a dog trying his damnest to understand a person holding a long conversation with him without any words he could recognize.

"A. Safe. Word," he repeated, his rather pretty lips forming the words slowly, feeling out each syllable. And then his irresistible boyish grin broke out, transforming his entire expression. "Ya mean like a sex thing?"

"More like a trust thing," Merri said, locking eyes with him, adding with a sultry smile, "But it can be a sex thing, if you want.

"The point is that I don't think you understand how I feel about you, Chris. This thing we're doing... It's not just about possessing you. I didn't mean to be so controlling of our sexual encounters. I enjoy the intimacy we share and I intend to prove it. I like you. I respect you. I trust you. I love you."

She felt her eyes grow wide with shock to match that in the set of blue ones staring back at her. She hadn't intended to say that. She hadn't even known it was what she had been feeling. It wasn't, was it?

Oh, shit. It was.

It undeniably was, as she stared into the surprised, affectionate, inviting eyes of her lover. That same feeling washed over her, of feeling entirely exposed beneath Chris LaSalle's unwavering blue gaze, as when he made love to her, stripped her of all her barriers, leaving her naked, vulnerable. She hadn't managed to hide her heart and soul from the man. So why should she be surprised she'd lost them to him?

Why was he surprised?

A burning in her lungs informed her that she'd stopped breathing, and she sucked in a sharp, deep, gasping breath, both unable and unwilling to cover her own shock over the revelation.

And then Chris was grinning at her in that damned endearing 'mischievous little boy' way. He crumpled up the paper she'd given him, tossing the 'safe word' aside before his expression sobered and he stepped in so close that his chest brushed against the tips of her breasts, and the scent of him filled her nose, mouth and lungs. His hands cupped her face, eyes as deep and beautiful as the night sky piercing her. Didn't he know that he didn't have to try to force his way into her? Whether she wished it or not, her soul threw the doors wide open before he even knocked on the door.

"We don't need no 'safe word' or demonstrations of trust," he said. Lust, love, the combination of both, twisted deep in her chest and low, low in her belly, irrevocably entwined for her where Chris LaSalle was concerned. "I'm sorry, Mere."

Her brow twitched in confusion at his expression, still intense yet somehow softened, an apologetic frown on his lips.

"I was too distracted by my own feelin's... We always been playin' a game -an' I'm none too sure we won't always be- I could only think in terms of my losin'..." He smiled bitter-sweetly, gently stroking his calloused thumbs over her cheekbones. "Losin' my heart and my soul ta ya... wonderin' how ta get ya ta surrender a piece of yours ta me in return."

She'd been resting her own hands on his forearms, needing the contact, but wanting to let him lead, let him show her how he felt, to accept or reject her, to choose to be her equal, the other part of her soul, to complete her or leave her forever unwhole, wanting. But now, now she wrapped her arms around him, gripping the back of his neck as he leaned in, meeting her for a searing kiss that turned her joints to jelly. His hands slipped to her waist, steadying her, catching her. And she would've felt foolish, behaving like the 'heroine' in a poorly written romance novel, except she'd finally decided to just let go -like she had a choice in it- and embrace her... her love for this ridiculous, adorable, sexy, loyal, affection, juvenile, stubborn, annoying, funny, beautiful man. Beautiful man who could -oh, fucking, hell- kiss with a talent nobody had a right to. Perhaps, her body was rewarding her for giving in to her feelings, adding an additional sensual layer to the embrace, but dear god, he was barely touching her , his hands caressing her lower back, his mouth claiming every part of hers, and-

"What?" Chris whispered into her hair as she laughed quietly into his neck.

"I-" Merri briefly considered keeping it to herself, but decided she didn't care to start building up the walls again. He'd somehow made it through them all, and it was her history of reserve, withdrawal, that had made him feel disconnected from her, even as he lost his heart to her, which had caused him to try to play games with her feelings.

"I'm so pathetically wet for you right now," she said into his neck, blushing, nipping at the skin of his throat with her teeth, making him groan, for some form of retribution. "Like some overly hormonal teenage girl who's never been touched before."

He pulled back a little, forcing her to look into his amused face, smug smile curling his lips, facetious twinkle in his eyes.

"Really?"

Merri rolled her eyes but smiled. She should be happy that he could make her feel this way, that he could turn her on so damned much with just a kiss that her underwear were soaked through. But honestly, it sort of poked at her competitive streak. She'd get him back. Oh, she knew she could... but she supposed the fun would be over quick if she cupped him, stroked and rubbed him through his jeans, got him off before they'd even made out a little more. It might be worth it, however, to have his hands gripping her shoulders tightly, fingers digging in with bruising force, as he moaned her name, begged, his knees going weak and his weight tugging at her, his face buried in her neck, having to catch him as he collapsed to the floor, or not quite managing to support him and being pulled down with him, having him curl his loose-boned body about hers, whimpering as he came down from the orgasmic high.

He grabbed her wrist just as her hand found the bulge in the front of his pants, staring her down and tutting her a scolding.

God, he did know her so well.

He deposited her naughty hand on the nape of his neck, placed his own larger ones on her hips, leaning in to rub the tip of his nose against hers, a playful, all-too-slow-for-her-taste, sign of affection, before he kissed her again, this time less intensely, just enough to elicit a firm tug of arousal from between her thighs and a moan from deep in her chest.

"I love you, Merri," he said, his voice soft but sure. She grinned like a loon. She just couldn't help it. And then she shifted, rubbing her uncomfortably moist thighs together, trying to quiet that insistent pulling sensation in her vagina as if it were an itch. But it needed a particular kind of scratch, or balm, as it were. And there was only one man who could give it to her.

"Are you going to stop teasing me now?" she asked, moving her hands down his back until she had a firm grip on his ass, forcing him against her with a firm squeeze of his backside that had his erection pressing against her sweet spot. "Or is this when you leave me hanging again? And I have to take care of matters with my own two hands?"

His eyes bulged a little.

"Keep up that talk an' I might, jus' so as I can watch, ya naughty li'l minx.'

He scooped her up, tossing her over his shoulder in a fireman's -or probably more aptly put, caveman's- carry and headed for his bedroom. She laughed, giddy from the rush of blood to her head and the warm swollen feeling of her heart. They were going to make love. Oh, they'd done so before, she knew it. It hadn't all just been casual sex and fucking. Only, now there was the added thrill of the complete honesty between them. The fact that they were in love was out in the open, would be in every look, touch, caress as they joined their bodies.

And Merri wasn't sure she'd ever experienced that before.