Bobby POV

"No."

The word was said firmly, but not sharply. Clear and decisive but without urgency or heat.

And yet it still gave me pause.

"What?" I asked carefully.

And I'll be honest.

I'm having to work to keep the fear from taking over.

Because no isn't exactly what I expected to hear as I wake up with Eames in my arms.

I'm on my side and so is she, with her face pressed against my chest, and moments ago, as consciousness began to trickle in and I remembered where I am and who I'm with and what we spent most of last night doing, a smile spread across my face as I began gently stroking my fingers over her back.

But then she said no.

"Bobby," she sighed and the sound is so sweet, so sexy, so…arousing, but I'm still wondering about the no, so I held my breath and waited for her to elaborate.

"I'm not doing it," she said at last and just as I started to pull away from her, thinking she's got a terrible case of buyer's remorse, she added, "You have to do your own 318's, but hurry up so we can get out of here, okay?"

And just like that, I was able to breathe again.

In fact, I almost started laughing.

Eames talks in her sleep.

About work.

Who knew?

It's an interesting piece of new information for me to file away, along with the fact that she actually giggles when I kiss a certain spot on her neck.

And her face flushes when she gets aroused.

And she moans when I caress her breasts.

Oh, and she shouts when she comes.

That last thought brings a smile to my face.

Because she did a lot of shouting last night.

When we got back to the room, after our side trip to the drugstore, I was feeling a little unsure of myself.

But then she stood in front of me, in those tiny little shorts and her black lace bra and her skin was wet from the rain and she looked so vulnerable and trusting and gorgeous and I realized how monumental the moment was for her, to set aside the awkwardness that could've easily creeped in after my colossal faux pas, because come on…what single guy doesn't carry at least one condom?

But she wasn't bothered by it at all.

Instead she walked with me to the drugstore, and then when we got back…like I said, I was suddenly nervous while she was bold and courageous.

Is it any wonder that I love her?

And she loves me, I reminded myself.

Something I hoped would happen someday but I never thought could possibly be true now.

But she does.

And even if she hadn't said the words, I think I would've known anyway because when she stood in front of me, offering herself to me, the expression on her face was so adoring and loving and…well, and challenging, but she wouldn't be Eames if she weren't.

And all I could think was she's mine.

And she loves me.

It's funny because every time I imagined what her response might be to me telling her the truth about my feelings, it never once occurred to me it would be this.

If it had then I might've been smart enough to put a damn condom in my wallet, I thought with a mental eye roll.

But maybe the unexpected delay was actually a good thing because it gave both of us a few extra minutes to think rationally about what was about to happen next.

And I say both of us, but there wasn't much thinking that needed to be done on my part.

I know what I want.

I've known for a while now.

Her.

Twenty-four-seven for the rest of our lives.

And last night as she stood there and looked into my eyes, waiting for my response to her provocative remark of where were we, I half-expected for the hotel to catch fire or a tidal wave to hit Atlantic City or something because I was about to obtain my heart's desire and that just doesn't happen to me.

But I guess it does.

Because the hotel's still standing, and I made love to her twice last night.

The first time, I completely lost the handle on my control.

"I think you were wearing a little bit less," I said in answer to her question as I reached up to trace my fingers over the top edge of her bra.

"So were you," she reminded me, but I was already focused on her and this time it wasn't enough just to pull the material out of the way, so I reached around behind her and undid the hooks and then let the garment fall to the floor.

"This is much better," I said and then I spent a few minutes re-familiarizing myself with the incredible landscape.

Lord knows I've stared at her breasts often enough, when they were covered up, so once I was allowed unfettered access…well, I took my time.

And she seemed to like it. She ran her fingers through my hair while I tasted the rainwater from her skin, and the sounds she made…she was driving me crazy with need but I didn't want to rush it.

Or at least, the plan was not to rush it.

But then I slid my hands around to her backside, beneath the waistband of her shorts and I encountered nothing but smooth, bare skin.

The discovery sent a rush of arousal through my already over-stimulated body and I hesitated briefly, for some reason needing encouragement from her that my hands on her ass were perfectly acceptable. Silly, considering the location of my mouth, but still…

"You need help?" she asked, sounding amused as she reached down to her shorts and undid the string.

"No, I…you're…you're not…"

"I'm dressed for bed, Bobby. I don't wear underwear to bed."

"But you were wearing a bra," I pointed out, and I have no idea why I felt the need to sit there and question her underwear choices. Maybe because I absolutely love the idea that she was sitting right next to me on the bed, even before she knew what I was going to say, and she was wearing nothing but those thin little shorts.

Has she done that before?

"It would've been a little more obvious if I'd gone without that, don't you think?" she answered with her patented practicality.

And then she shoved her shorts from her hips, letting them fall to the floor so that she was standing in front of me, wearing nothing at all.

That's about the time I started losing control.

I stood up and wrapped my arms around her, picking her up as I turned us around and then I set her down on the bed so that she was stretched out in front of me, and I went with her for a moment, kissing her with urgency and fervor while my hands explored…everywhere.

But I still had on too many clothes and I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out, so I pulled back, getting back to my feet and then I had to just look for a minute because this is Eames and I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that this is real, so I let my eyes walk over her slowly as my mouth went dry and my raging hard-on went past the point of painful and I suddenly couldn't think about anything except how desperately I needed to be inside of her.

I tried to count to ten while I pulled off my shirt and sweatpants, but I lost track somewhere around three, and I decided the stalling tactic was useless. Eames reached for the bag on the nightstand while I shed my boxers and as soon as I joined her on the bed, she handed me a packet and then pulled me down to her, kissing me with such ardor that I forgot about everything else.

"You have to open it," she said, chuckling lightly as she took the packet from my hand and ripped it open.

"You have to quit distracting me," I countered as I took over the task, and then suddenly we were serious again, and right back to where we were maybe an hour ago, with me situated between her thighs, only this time without any clothes between us and the prophylactic in place, and I hesitated, but just briefly, just long enough to settle my gaze on hers and make sure that she's still with me.

And of course she is. Eames is always with me, in everything.

She clenched her fingers, where they were resting on my butt, encouraging me to take the next step, so I did.

I drove into her, powerfully and confidently, and she moaned out my name as she tightened her grip on my butt, and the last remnants of my control were completely lost.

I brought my mouth down to hers, kissing her enthusiastically while pushing into her deeper, harder, faster…it wasn't long after that before she was shouting my name and I have no idea how I managed to keep going after that confidence-inspiring moment, but I did.

In fact, I kept it up long enough to make her call out my name again. It was after that second time that I finally had to let go and the entire experience was just so…uplifting and inspiring and wholly gratifying.

I barely feel like me. I'm too happy.

Afterwards, once we were able to move, we ordered room service, since the bulk of our meal was still on the floor. We cleaned up the mess of Chinese food while we waited for our burgers, and I don't know why I thought it might be awkward because it wasn't at all.

And she looks as happy as I feel.

An hour or so later, we were back in the bed, me on my back and her on her side next to me. We had the television tuned into some mindless sitcom, but I don't think either of us were paying attention to it.

I know I wasn't. And then she picked up the remote control and hit the mute button before tossing the device onto the nightstand and turning back towards me.

For a moment, I thought she was about to embark upon some deep conversation, where we would talk about how this change in our relationship was going to affect our lives.

But she didn't.

Instead, she moved into a half-sitting position and pushed the covers off of me, and then she let her gaze wander over the length of my body. And yeah, I'm naked again. I put on my sweatpants while we cleaned up and ate dinner, but once it was time to get back into bed, I pulled them back off.

Not that I'm embarrassed to let her look at me. I mean, maybe a little self-conscious, but mostly I just like that she wants to look.

When she returned her eyes to mine, still without saying a word, I raised an eyebrow in question. She smirked at me and then tucked her hair behind her ear before resting her palm on my chest, and even just that innocent touch sent a jolt of pleasure through me.

"I didn't really get to look before," she said with a hint of playfulness. "Do you mind?"

"Um…no."

"Good. So…relax. It's my turn."

Relax.

I'm not sure that's the word I'd use to describe what I did while she took her time getting acquainted with my body.

Tremble, maybe.

In anticipation.

Because she spent quite some time touching and tasting and kissing…

And then it was my turn again, because really, the foreplay was pretty much bypassed the first time we made love. Once we got back from the drugstore, I mean.

But the second time…I made sure to devote my full attention to every inch of her, and she did the same to me, and by the time we'd completely exhausted each other, the TV was broadcasting some middle-of-the-night infomercial, and I used my last bit of energy to pull the covers over us and wrap my arms around her.

And now, this morning, she's still asleep in my arms, with the top of her head below my chin and her feet barely reaching my shins.

She's so small and yet such a huge presence in my life.

I pulled her closer to me, loving the feel of her skin against mine, and then I resumed stroking my fingers over her back as she stretched and mumbled something before exhaling heavily, and I could feel her breath tickling the hairs on my chest.

I don't ever want to leave this bed.

Not only because I love having her naked and in my arms, but also because I'm afraid that reality might get in the way for us.

I mean, we have to go back to work.

And pretend we don't love each other.

Although I guess I've been doing that for a while now, but still…

"You're still here."

Her voice was soft and still rough with sleep, but I think she's actually awake this time.

"Did you think I'd leave?"

She stretched again, rubbing her body against me and increasing the magnitude of my already-considerable hard-on, and then she tipped her head back, bringing her eyes to mine.

"I wasn't sure," she admitted as a smile played on her lips.

Strange that she would think that and yet not be upset. Although maybe it's not so strange. She knows me. She knows my self-doubts and insecurities. And she has to know that if I had left it wouldn't have anything to do with her, but with me.

"Be sure," I asserted, trailing my hand down to her butt and pulling her firmly against me. "The only thing that would've gotten me out of this bed is you, kicking me out."

"Why in the world would I do that? It took me years to get you here," she replied with a smirk.

I had no idea she'd be a morning person, but I love it.

"So," she continued as she reached between us and ran her hand over my now-throbbing erection. "Tell me again how many condoms you bought?"

She repeated the action and I bit back a groan before saying, "If you keep that up, we won't be needing any."

She flashed me a smile and then slowly and purposefully did it again and this time, I did groan because it feels so damn good, but then I gently took hold of her wrist, pulling her hand away as I leaned in to capture her lips.

It's hard to believe that it's been less than twelve hours since I kissed her for the first time. Or rather she kissed me, after I told her that I love her. And now, just a short time later, it feels like I've been kissing her for all of my life.

She kicked the covers out of the way and then pushed me onto my back as she sat up and moved one leg over me so that she was on her knees, straddling my waist. Not exactly where I'd like her to be, but still…not a bad position to be in.

"You haven't freaked out yet," she stated conversationally as she began running her fingers across my chest.

"Surprised?"

"Honestly? Yes," she answered with a smile. "This is a huge step and you're just taking it all in stride."

"So are you," I pointed out. I put my hands on her legs and then started moving them upwards, letting my thumbs graze along the inner edge of her thighs. "Now you're not only partnered with the whack job, but you're sleeping with him, too."

"Bobby…"

"I know. I'm not a whack job. But you know what I'm saying. I drive you crazy at work sometimes, so now…"

"You drive me crazy when you keep things from me," she said. "Which you're not going to do anymore."

"True."

"And," she began, but then she sucked in a harsh breath as I slid one finger inside of her and then she exhaled slowly as I started a leisurely rhythm.

"And?" I prompted smugly, loving the fact that I've managed to render her speechless. Usually it's me who forgets how to talk, so it's nice to know I have that kind of effect on her.

"And…um…you drive me crazy when you…when you…"

I paused for a moment because I have to know what else I do that drives her crazy, so that I can be sure to stop doing it.

"When I…"

She opened her eyes and looked at me with such heat and intensity that I don't think I could look away if I tried.

"When you won't let me get close to you," she said at last.

"I think it's safe to say that'll never happen again."

She held my gaze for another moment and then she smiled and added, "And of course, when you come into work, looking so damn good in those suits…that drives me crazy."

"Why?" I asked on a laugh.

"Because then I'd have to go home and fantasize about getting you out of those suits."

I love the idea that she's thought about me like that.

"Well, now you won't have to fantasize."

And I have no idea how this whole thing is going to work…how much off-time we're going to be spending together, but if she wants to strip me down after work, then I'm all for it.

"You can get me out of my suit whenever the urge hits you," I added as I resumed the steady motion of my finger. "And six."

"Six?" she asked, now slightly breathless and her face is flushed and I think maybe if I keep this up a little longer, I'm going to hear her shout again.

"Condoms," I clarified. "That's how many I bought. So we're down to four."

"We probably need to…pack up and…head for…home in a few…hours," she managed to say, her eyes once again closed and her head tipped back and God, she's got to be the most beautiful woman.

"Probably," I agreed, and then our conversation was put on hold for a minute as I increased the rhythm and put all of my focus into pushing her over the brink.

I love how she's so responsive and passionate and uninhibited.

As much time as I spent pondering how she might be in bed, and I find out that she's just Eames.

Alex.

She's aggressive and adventurous, giving and generous, sensual and selfless.

She's just as she is in the other aspects of life.

The perfect match for me.

"So…four," she said, picking up the thread of our conversation once the moment had passed.

"Uh huh."

"They'll never fit in the duffle bag," she said with a smile as she leaned down to kiss me. "And I'd hate for them to go to waste, so…sounds like you've got some work to do."

TBC...