Andy went straight to the gym when he got out of the building. He couldn't beat the crap out of anyone he was actually mad at: Marcken, Sharon, or himself. So instead, he'd break a sweat the productive way.
Two hours later, dripping sweat and none more satiated, Andy stepped into a cold shower. The muscles in his head were throbbing as much as the ones in his arms and legs, and he had no way to ease the pain. How could it have gotten this fucked up? he wondered. He thought he might have been making a bit of progress where Sharon was concerned. He no longer felt the need to call her every night. He stopped asking about Rusty during their coffee breaks. He had stopped looking down her blouse when she bent over, and at her hips when she'd reach up to stretch. He'd been doing everything she asked. He'd been compliant, well-behaved. He thought he'd gotten a grip. Apparently not, he reminded himself. He stepped out of the shower, made his way to his gym bag, and put his clothes back on. He stopped for dinner on his way home, mostly delaying the suffocating silence of his empty house.
Laying in bed that night, Andy still couldn't get a grip on his anger and jealousy. He thinks he's just going to waltz up to Sharon and sweep her off her feet? With that store-bought tan and cheap cologne? He knew he was being petty, but he honestly couldn't think of one redeeming quality Marcken had displayed since getting involved with Major Crimes. She's smarter than that, isn't she? I mean, she's not going to actually go out with that guy, is she? Andy was working himself into a frenzy and clearly not getting any sleep. He jumped out of bed and put on his clothes, considering returning to his gym for another workout. Anything to get his mind off an image of Marcken running his hand up Sharon's calf. Motherfucker.
Of course, Andy did not end up at the gym. Something was throbbing inside him alright, but it wasn't pent-up energy. It was anger, and hurt, and vengeance, and jealousy. It was ugly and dark and the only thing that would prompt him to pound on her door at two in the morning.
He only had time to regret his impulsive decision in the millisecond between when he heard her come to the door and when she threw it open. Her hair was messy, her nightgown too thin to hide the outlines of her body, and she was clearly pissed. Before she could let out a snarling threat, however, Andy was there.
He grabbed her face with both hands and slammed his mouth onto hers until he could feel teeth through her upper lip. She grabbed his arms to steady herself and he kicked her door shut from the inside, slamming loudly against the frame. He opened his mouth as far as it would go, trying not so much to kiss as to devour. He scraped his tongue against hers with such force it pushed hers back into her own mouth, where he proceeded to explore relentlessly. He shoved her backwards until her ass hit the small table in her entryway, causing her to groan at the pain. In the dark, Andy didn't really have the perception to worry about her furniture. His hands fell to roughly grip her ass, pulling her into him with such strength it pushed all of the air out of her body. In seconds he had lifted her onto the table, only to encounter another obstacle with the large silver bowl holding her wallet and keys. Without a thought, he swiped it to the side, resulting in a large crashing sound on the floor. If her neighbors hadn't woken up to the slamming door, they certainly had now.
With Sharon trapped against the wall, atop the table, and under Andy, he let his hands go straight to the apex of her thighs, fingers sticky in the moisture under her gown. He never let his mouth leave Sharon's, though they were both battling with too little oxygen. He scraped three fingers over Sharon's panties, pushing too roughly into her clit and labia. Sharon groaned again, having moved her own hands to pull and scrape on the back of Andy's head and neck. If he wasn't going to be nice, neither was she.
Andy hooked his fingers into Sharon's panties and pulled down hard, but the angle of her knees kept him from taking them off. With an annoyed grunt, Andy tugged once more with exaggerated strength until he heard the soft sound of ripping fabric. He then tossed the torn panties to the side, supposedly landing somewhere near the silver bowl. He returned one hand to her center, pushing three long fingers deep inside her, none too slowly. Sharon moaned under Andy's mouth, finally gaining enough space to take a deep breath. Andy's other hand went to her breast where it squeezed harshly, bruising the soft flesh under her thin satin gown. Sharon's hands traveled down Andy's torso, bypassing his shirt to work directly on his jeans.
When she felt his bulging erection through the thick denim, she whimpered and clamped her thighs tighter around his middle. Feeling the increased pressure around his fingers, Andy curled them up inside Sharon and rocked his pelvis against hers on the table. He did this over again until cock was so hard it made his pants uncomfortable, slipping his fingers away from her center and out from under her nightgown. Sharon sighed heavily, but caught her breath when Andy reached under her ass with both hands and lifted her off of the table. With her legs wrapped around his middle and her arms clenching around his shoulders, Andy carried her from the front door to her bedroom. Sharon had begun chewing on Andy's ear, obviously not aiding the growing problem in his pants.
Andy unceremoniously dropped Sharon onto her back on her bed. As she watched him from the bed, he quickly threw off his shirt and unzipped his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. Sharon leaned up on one elbow, reaching her other hand out to the elastic waistband of his boxers and pulled him down on the bed with her. She cocked an eyebrow at him, flirtatiously inviting him to fight back.
But Andy wasn't in the mood for flirting. He assaulted her mouth again, almost suffocating her with his tongue. The pressure made her delirious, causing her to squirm underneath the weight of his body. Feeling her movement, Andy quickly flipped her over so her stomach was to the mattress and she stretched out under him. He pulled his boxers down just far enough to let his cock come free. He paused for just a moment, lowered his head to Sharon's hair and inhaled. He both needed the oxygen and the rest. Sharon then bucked her ass into Andy's cock, though, making him move with more urgency.
He stroked through her folds a few times, making sure he wasn't going to hurt her. Then, with almost painful control, he pushed himself into Sharon's center. The first stroke was slow, and he took a moment to adjust his weight. This also gave her the chance to accommodate the thickness inside her. He moved one hand to help support himself, while the other went to her shoulder and nape of her hair. He then began to thrust into Sharon with speed, and force, and need. He could hear his body slapping against her ass with every thrust.
Sharon could feel the dry cotton of her sheets against her clit, providing only a semblance of the friction she longed to feel. She reached her hand above her head and tried to push her ass further into Andy's incessant thrusts. She couldn't get the right angle, though, and the soft mattress was never going to give her the pressure she needed to finish. With every push of Andy's cock, however, she was growing tighter and tighter, hotter and hotter. She had already begun to sweat under the wonderful weight of his body, but she wanted more contact. They'd never had sex like this, and while there was no lack of intimacy with the way Andy handled her clearly familiar body, she felt like something was missing because she couldn't see his face.
As if he read her mind, Andy moved his grip from alternating between her hair and shoulder, down her arm, until he landed the palm of his hand against the back of hers, intertwining their fingers while he continued to thrust into her. Sharon sighed heavily and lowered her face into her mattress, squeezing his fingers tighter as she did so. After a few moments, when Andy could feel the slow need for release, he moved his hand to grip her hip, where he tilted her body slightly to the side. He continued to pound into her, but he gave himself enough room to maneuver his free hand into her curls and press three fingers roughly against her clit. He then began to rub in circles, gently at first, then mercilessly. Sharon arched her back and threw her ass harder into Andy's pelvis. When she finally hit a wall of thundering pleasure, she let out a yelling groan into her mattress, bringing her forehead to rest on her hands.
Andy only allowed her a moment to catch her breath, however, when he flipped her over so she was once again on her back. He plunged back into her with force, causing her to grunt under the renewed pressure. He rested his face in the crook of her shoulder, every once in awhile biting her clavicle and sucking on her neck.
It didn't take him long to come inside her. He grunted into her ear and gripped her breast as he did so, releasing her flesh with the same slow pace with which he regained his senses. He spent a few moments lying on top of her, doing nothing to lessen the weight of his body on hers, not that she minded. He let out ragged breaths into her neck until finally rolling over onto his back.
After a few moments, and without turning to make eye contact, Sharon attempted a timid "Andy?" She realized the whole night had gone without having spoken one word to each other. She needed help navigating what she was supposed to do with this new development.
Andy's hesitation told Sharon everything she needed to know. She turned only her face to look at Andy, still gazing up at her ceiling. "Andy." This time, it was a statement.
At that, he sat up with a groan. "Don't worry, Captain. I'm not staying." Andy ducked down to collect his jeans and pull them up to cover himself. He then gathered his tee shirt from the floor, along with his shoes. Sharon propped herself up on her elbows and watched him, daring him to look her in the eye.
He didn't.
She watched him collect his discarded clothes and leave her bedroom without a word, and without a glance.