DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER, OWN SAMANTHA ROSS
THIS CHAPTER CARRIES A SLIGHT M RATING FOR DELICATE SMUT. SO IF YOU'RE SENSITIVE, SKIP AHEAD.
THANKS TO ALL OF YOU ADDING ME TO ALERTS AND FAVOURITES! MUCH LOVE TO ALL MY READERS, BEG75
Next to you
"Come a little closer baby,
I feel like layin' you down
On a bed of sweet surrender
Where we can work it all out
There ain't nothin' that love can't fix
Girl it's right here at our finger tips
So come a little closer baby
I feel like layin' you down
Come a little closer baby I feel like strippin' it down
Back to the basics of you and me and what makes the world go round
Every inch of you against my skin
I wanna be stronger than we've ever been
So come a little closer baby
I feel like strippin' it down."
-Come a Little Closer, Dierks Bentley
Flack's eyes flickered open slowly. Bright sunshine filtered into the bedroom, warmth cascading down on the bed despite the frigid, nearly unbearable temperatures that assaulted the city. The sunlight sparkled brilliantly on the icicles that dangled from the slight over hang over the window, casting shimmering prisms on the cream coloured walls and hardwood floor. On the street below, car horns honked and tired crunched on snow or splashed through the inches thick slush that sat at the curbs. He could hear the scraping of windshields and the loud scratching as shovels hit pavement in an attempt to clear the snow away from homes and businesses.
He yawned noisily and rubbed at his tired eyes and stretched until his back cracked. Clad in a pair of sweatpants and an old tattered t-shirt that he'd managed to yank on upon arriving home before having to attend to his severely inebriated girlfriend, he lay on his back for several minutes, a forearm over his eyes as he listened to the soft, rhythmic breathing beside him. She had thankfully managed to keep out of the bathroom and avoid any expelling of stomach contents. She had however, spent almost twenty minutes, after he'd lovingly undressed her and put her in a dress shirt of his, kissing him and feeling him up and trying in vain to coerce him into sex. Because she was really, really, really fucking horny. Her exact words. He'd managed to fend her off. While he was dying to finally make love to her, there was no way in hell he was doing it under those conditions. He wanted her to remember it. Not have her wake up in the morning with no recollection of the event.
So he'd gently refused her advances. Which she'd taken the wrong way and burst into tears and asked him what was wrong with her. Why didn't he want her? Wasn't he attracted to her? Didn't he find her pretty? Didn't he want to have sex? Was there something so hideously and disgustingly wrong with her that it turned him off completely? He'd tried his best to comfort her and assure her that he thought she was the most beautiful, sex and alluring woman in the world. And that she had no clue just how bad he actually wanted her. That it wasn't her, it was him and the fact that he couldn't live with himself feeling as if he'd taken advantage of her. And no sooner did he get those words out and tell her that he loved her, she had passed out cold once more. Her face tucked into his neck and her arm slung over his chest and her leg over his thighs. Looking peaceful and angelic.
And snoring like a goddamn freight train. It had taken him nearly three hours to fall asleep with the racket next to him. He didn't have the heart to grab his pillow and an extra blanket and camp out on the couch. He was too worried she'd get deathly ill in the middle of the night and need him to take care of her.
That and he'd grown accustomed to having her warm and welcoming body pressed up tightly against his. To feeling her hair brushed against his skin or smelling her soft, ultra feminine scent. To listening to her tiny sighs and midnight murmurings. To waking up and her being the first thing he saw. To kissing those full, silky lips good morning and taking her into his arms.
I am a goddamn sap, Flack thought with a sigh. And removed his forearm from over his eyes to steal a peek at his watch.
Quarter to eleven.
On a cold, early February morning. A day off at that.
There was no way in hell he was getting out of that bed anytime soon. He was going to have a long, lazy day. Doing fuck all and enjoying it. With his girl that slept so peacefully next to him, her hand resting lightly on his stomach, her entire body covered by the heavy duvet . The tips of the toes of her right foot and a few strands of hair on the top of her head the only things visible.
Flack rolled over onto his left hand side and lifted the edge of the blanket and peered under. Samantha lay on her side facing him, eyes closed, impossibly long, dark lashes falling on her pale cheeks, a soft, delicate smile curving her lips. She was so astonishingly beautiful. Even with her hair messed up and all of her makeup gone and clad in nothing more than a dress shirt of his and a pair of little Garfield boxer shorts she'd left there last weekend and had been sitting on top of a clean pile of laundry in the corner of his bedroom. This was a woman that could look through countless magazines and muse about looking like someone else. About how she wanted a body like this celebrity or hair like this one, or a face like that one. Who could stand in front of the mirror and bitch and moan about five extra pounds that to him didn't even exist. He'd tell her she was crazy, that she didn't know what she was talking about. And that she needed to stop being so damn hard on herself.
What she had far surpassed physical beauty. She was intelligent and warm hearted and down to earth. At work she was no nonsense and took no shit with the perps, but possessed an astonishing amount of compassion and empathy for the victims and their families. Outside of work she was bubbly and loved to have a good time. She made friends easily and was the one that you could rely to cheer you up when you were having a god awful, shitty day. And in quieter, more intimate times, she was loving and attentive and tender one moment and assertive and aggressive the next. A little mix of everything. She drove him absolutely insane. In both a good, and a bad way. And lying there, watching her sleep, Flack could honestly see himself waking up every morning for the rest of his life beside her.
It neither frightened him nor made him nervous when he considered forever with her. But knew that if he was to tell her exactly what he was thinking or feeling so early in their relationship, he'd definitely scare her away. And that was the last thing he wanted.
Reaching out, he trailed the tip of his index finger along her nose than laid his hand on the side of her face and caressed her cheek and lips with a gentle thumb. She murmured in her sleep and scrunched up her nose and brought her hand up to scratch it before nestling her head further into her pillow. He placed a tender kiss to her forehead, followed by the tip of her nose and than her lips.
Her smile broadened. "Good morning," she said in a quiet, tired voice.
"Good morning," he returned, and kissed her in earnest.
She sighed happily after the kiss ended and moved closer to him, her eyes closed and her body pressed tightly against his, her nose tucked into the hallow of his throat, and her arm draped over his side. He wrapped his arm around her slender body and held her securely and lovingly, his hand slipping up the back of her shirt. He slid his fingertips slowly and gently up and down her spine, over and over again. His eyes closed and his chin resting on the top of her head as his other hand stroked her hair.
Everything outside of that room ceased to exist. For a moment, life was perfect and beautiful. The world around them disappearing as they lay there together, unmoving, no words exchanged between them. Breathing the same air. Relaxing, and revelling in the simple beauty of love that existed between them. The days seemed to fly by and moments missed out on. And now anything and everything that mattered was in that one room.
Minutes ticked by. Time was of no importance. Her hand slipped up his side and around to his back and over his shoulder and to the back of his neck. Her fingers tunnelling into his hair and rubbing it softly and lovingly.
There had never been a woman in his life that Flack had ever felt comfortable enough to engage in such personal intimacy with. An intimacy that stretched far beyond the actual act of love making and meant so much more.
"What time is it?" Samantha asked, finally breaking the silence that had enveloped them for what seemed like an eternity.
Flack shrugged. "What does it matter?" he asked. "We're both off today. If we want to lie here like this all day, than that's what we'll do."
"I'd like that," she said with a sigh. "This feels nice."
"It does," he agreed and kissed the top of her head.
"I never took you to be a cuddler, Detective Flack," she giggled.
"I'm usually not," he told her. "Must be something about the company I've been keeping in the last few months."
She smiled against his neck and pressed a kiss to the hallow of his throat. "I don't feel very good," she announced.
Flack snorted. "I wonder why…"
"Not a hung over type of not feeling good," she said. "Other than a pounding head ache I feel pretty good. It's this time of the month. The cramps. The cramps are so bad, baby. I just want to pull my hair out. To make matters worse, I don't have anything here."
"I've got Tylenol in the medicine cabinet," Flack told her. "Extra strength. With codeine."
"You know now I mix it with Midol. I don't have any here. And I don't have any tampons on me either. So we're going to have to get up sooner or later and go to my place."
"I can go to the store and get you stuff," he told her. "It's not big deal. I need to go out and get us some stuff to make some breakfast anyway. Might as well kill two birds with one stone and get what you need. Can't have you suffering, can I?"
She shook her head. "Damn monthly visitor. I wish I could have babies without having to have a period every month."
"How bad could it be?" Flack asked.
She drew back and glared at him. "You so did not just ruin our massively romantic, fluffy, basking in each other's arms moment by asking me something like that."
"I mean, it's just cramps, right? How bad could cramps get?"
"Enough to make me want to kill the insensitive ass who has the gall to ask me something like that," she declared, and proceeded to turn over onto her side, presenting him with her back.
He couldn't help but grin at her slightly childish behaviour. He slid across the bed and pushed her hair from the side of her face and pressed his lips to the spot below her ear. "I'm sorry," he said, and slipping his arm around her, pulled her tight against his back. "I'm a guy. I couldn't possibly understand the whole period thing. So I'll tell you what. Why don't you show me where it hurts and I'll try and do something to make it feel a bit better."
"Forget it," she huffed. "It's no big deal."
"If you're hurting that bad, I want to try and give you some relief. So just show me where it hurts, babe."
She sighed and took a hold of his wrist and moved his hand to her stomach, placing it just below her navel.
"Right there?" he asked, and kissed her temple.
She nodded. "Your hand is really warm. The warmth makes it feel better."
"Whatever works," he said and nuzzled her ear with his nose and rested his forehead against the back of her head.
She sighed and relaxed against him. The warmth from his large, strong hand coursing through her and bringing near instant relief to the horrific, agonizing cramps that had plagued her once a month for five days straight since the time she was twelve years old. Enjoying the feel of his soft lips on the side and back of her neck and on the sensitive spot just below her ear. His warm breath and the slight roughness of his cheek and his moist lips causing her to shiver uncontrollably.
"Donnie?" she whispered.
"Yeah?" he asked, lips poised over her ear.
"I heard that there's something else that helps relieve cramps," she said.
"I already told you I'd go and pick some stuff up for you at the store," he told her.
She frowned. "I meant something else," she informed him.
"What kind of something else?"
"I read somewhere that the contracting of the uterus makes them go away for a bit."
A grin tugged at his lips. "Okay…"
"And seeing as when you orgasm, the uterus contracts…"
"You want me to get you off," he finished.
She giggled. "That's one way to put it."
"Well," he said. "Seeing as it's that time of the month and we don't do the whole sex thing yet, I guess my options are pretty limited," he teased, and kissing the side of her neck, and gently rolled her over onto her back. "Don't worry," he said, undoing her shirt one button at a time. "I'll keep my fingers on the outside. Okay?"
She nodded.
"You're nervous," he observed. "Why are you so nervous? We've done stuff like this and more tons of times already."
"I'm a bit freaked," she admitted.
"Why? What's there to be freaked about? Me?" he asked, finishing with the last button and pushing the shirt open to expose her pale, silky skin. "You know I'm not going to hurt you. That I won't do anything you're not a hundred percent comfortable with."
"I know," she said, shivering as his fingertips drifted slowly from her navel, up her stomach and between her breasts. All the way to her throat before slipping back down once more. "It's just…you know…the whole…thing."
"Like I said, nothing is going to go inside, okay? You can trust me, Samantha. You don't feel comfortable, you just tell me to stop and I will. Plain and simple. Alright?"
She took a deep breath and nodded.
"You're going to need to relax," he told her, propping himself on his elbow as he leaned down to press kisses along her collarbone. "Nothing will happen if you're not relaxed. Can you do that for me? Just close your eyes and lie there and relax?"
"I think so," she said and rested her head back into her pillow and closed her eyes.
"This is nothing we haven't done before," he reminded her. "Just I'm going to make sure it's ten times better than anything I've ever done for you before."
She shuddered at his words. Her hands gripping at the sheets below her.
"Just relax," he whispered, lowering his head to trail the tip of his tongue along her collarbone and down between her breasts. Kissing and licking his way along the underside before allowing his mouth to travel up and over the tight, aching nipple. He licked his way around it several times before taking it fully into his mouth and sucking firmly on it.
She gave a small whimper and her grasp on the sheets tightened as he continued to lavish her breasts with attention and his hand slipped from its resting position over her navel and slid down the front of her shorts. She tensed slightly.
"It's okay," he assured her, pressing kisses around her nipple. "Trust me, Samantha. Just trust me, baby."
"Just don't…"
"I won't," he promised, and took the nipple into his mouth once more before one of his fingers slipped between her legs and quickly and easily sought out her clitoris. Rubbing it in smooth, slow circles as she moaned lightly beneath him and her legs parted to allow him better access.
Within minutes she was whimpering and trashing her head back and forth on her pillow, one hand still holding onto the bed sheets as the other had a firm hold on his shoulder, nails digging clear through his t-shirt and into his skin. A slight bit of discomfort was the last thing on Flack's mind as he kissed her way back up to her lips and than pulled back to watch her. Her chest heaving, her eyes closed, her breathing ragged. It was incredible watching her. The pleasure that took of her face and her body. It was far more of a turn on to be simply watch her, than if she was actually touching him in return.
"Donnie…" she moaned, loud and long, arching her hips against his hand.
"It's okay," he told her and kissed her softly. "Just let it happen. Just let me watch it happen," he stroked her clitoris harder and faster and pressed his lips to her temple. "Just relax and let it happen…just come for me, Samantha…just come for me…"
The hand that had been holding onto the sheets below her now came up to grab a hold of the hand that worked so diligently and feverishly between her legs. Encouraging him to rub harder, faster. Needing that almost rough stimulation to send her over the edge. He kissed her deeply and than lay the side of his head on her pillow to watch her as he gave her exactly what she wanted, and needed. Finding it the most amazing, beautiful thing in the world when a powerful orgasm took hold of her. Her his arching off the bed and his name erupting from his lips.
Her entire body trembled. Her legs closed around his hand, holding it there, riding out the last waves of her pleasure, sobbing from the sheer intensity of it as she tossed her head wildly before it settled next to his, their foreheads touching.
In time her legs opened and he removed his hand slowly as his lips seized hers in a long, passionate kiss. She lay panting and quivering as without a word, he gently fixed her shorts and buttoned her shirt back up and straightened and smoothed it down. He pulled the comforter up to her chin and pressed a kiss to her forehead as he stroked her hair and gave her the time to compose herself.
Eventually her breathing returned to normal and her eyes opened. Golden ones locking on blue.
She gave him a shy smile.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "Feel any better?"
"Much," she replied with a content sigh. "But what about you? Don't you need…"
"I'm good," he assured her. "That was all about you, baby. You and only you."
"You're a good man, Don Flack," she said and snuggled into him, her head buried in the space between his shoulder and his neck. "A mighty, mighty good man."
"Well it's nice to be appreciated," he teased and wrapped his arms around her slender body. "You're going to go back to sleep, aren't you." It was more of a statement than a question.
She nodded and giggled. "You know that's what happens. You give me this earth shattering orgasm and I want to fall asleep right away."
"Gotta stop giving you such good orgasms than," he chuckled.
"Don't even think about it," she laughed. "And I'm hungry, too," she said.
"You are such a guy," he sighed. "I'm going to go and take a shower and head out to grab some stuff. I'll pick up those things you needed."
"Thank you," she said, yawning noisily and sitting up and leaning over him to kiss him. "You're a doll. I need a toothbrush too. I keep forgetting mine and having to use yours."
"I'm going to buy you one of everything you need and make a spot just for your stuff in the bathroom," he informed her, as she flopped down onto her back, than rolled onto her side and pulled the comforter up to her chin. "Either that or you could just bring all your stuff here and stay permanently."
"We'll see," she said and nestled into her pillow.
"I mean it, Samantha," he told her.
"So do I when I say we'll see."
He sighed. Knowing that was about as good as a reaction as any from her. He climbed out of bed, stretching and yawning noisily before walking around the bed and hunkering down on her side. He brushed hair away from her face and kissed her gently.
"I love you, baby," he told her.
"I love you, too," she said with a gentle smile. "You know what else I'd like?" she asked.
"What's that?"
"Chocolate. And lots of it."
"Ask and you shall receive," he told her, and standing up, ran a hand alongside of her face. "Samantha…"
"One step at a time, Donnie," she whispered, her eyes closed. "That's all I can do."
"That's all I'm asking for," he assured her. Kissing her one final time, he stood up and headed for the door.
Samantha sighed heavily and rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. Tears burning them as she stared up at the ceiling. Praying that something that felt so perfect and wonderful was just that.
Nothing should ever be this hard, Flack thought, his cell phone clutched in his hand, ready to start dialling as he stood in the feminine needs department in the CVS store a block away from his apartment. Although he'd grown up in a home with both a mother and a younger sister that quite obviously experienced their own monthly visitors considering the amount of raging, out of control hormone that besieged the house and tormented him and his father, he'd never paid no mind, or had been expected to purchase, 'personal supplies' for them. Same with all the girlfriends he had had. Which considering his age, was a shockingly low amount. Unfortunately, the number of women he'd had sex with far surpassed the amount he'd actually gotten seriously involved with. Not something he was entirely proud of.
With his mother and his sister and all the others, to Flack a period was a period. Every woman got it and they all took care of it on their own. A pad was a pad and a tampon was a tampon as far as he was concerned.
But this was something else. Standing there confronted with umpteen different name brands and types - pearlized applicator? Cardboard applicator? What in the hell? This was totally unfamiliar territory and the big, bad New York City boy found himself feeling completely and utterly defeated.
Flack sighed heavily and dialled his home phone number. Silently urging his girlfriend to pick up. The phone was on the nightstand next to her head, so there was no possible way she could sleep through it. The only problem, he realized as the call neared the eighth ring, was that the phone in the bedroom didn't have call display and Sam had 'issues' with answering his land line. She didn't feel it was her place to do so.
Wonderful, he thought. Goddamn you and your little paranoia's, Sammie, he thought, as he hung up and than went into his speed dial menu and hit the number three and waited for someone to answer.
"What'cha want, Flack?" Danny said in way of greeting.
"What? I woke you up from some much needed beauty sleep?" he asked. "You can't give me a pleasant good morning?"
"I'd give you a very, very, very pleasant good morning if you were here snuggled up next to me, princess," Danny chided, in a low, sultry voice.
"In your wildest and wettest, Messer," Flack said. "I need to talk to Monroe."
"Why?"
"Because. That's why."
"Why because?" Danny inquired.
"Because me and her are having an illicit, kinky affair and I'm in the mood for some phone sex," Flack responded.
"That's what I thought," Danny said. "Hang on…"
There was a slight rustling noise and soft murmurings of voices as the phone was passed from one hand to the other. Danny telling Lindsay that her boyfriend was on the phone jonesin' for some attention. Of the x-rated variety.
"Good morning," Lindsay chirped. "What are you wearing?"
Flack grinned and glanced down at himself. "Jeans, sweatshirt, winter jacket, baseball hat."
"Mmm…you know how that baseball hat just does something for me, detective," she purred. "I'm wearing this cute little pink and white lace backless negligee with spaghetti straps and matching thong panties with these little crystals that are over top of my…well just use your imagination, big boy."
Despite the fact that it was nothing but a big joke and that it was his best friend's future wife talking dirty to him, Flack could not help feel himself flush. It had less to do with the fact that it was an incredibly attractive woman on the other line, and more to do with the fact that while he'd been so intent on giving his girlfriend pleasure, he'd gone without any of his own and the failure to have some sort of release had him on edge and suffering.
"You're lucky I know you're joking," he said into the phone. "Because that so turned me on and I'm going back home in about ten minutes and doing something about it."
"Lucky girl," Lindsay said. "Think of me when you…"
"Do you mind!" Danny bellowed in the back ground. "Do you two mind!!! Tell him he doesn't knock this shit off I'm going to his place and showing his girl what a real man can do for her."
Flack laughed. "Tell him that Sam would laugh in his face and kick him in the balls if he even tried going anywhere near her."
Lindsay passed along the message. "So?" she asked. "What's up? What do you need?"
"I need your help picking something out," Flack replied.
Lindsay let out a long, shrill shriek that made Flack wince and forced him to hold his phone out at arm's length.
"What in the hell, Monroe!" he exclaimed, when he deemed it safe to return to the call.
"Oh my God!" she was practically hyperventilating. "You're going to…you're going to…I can't take it! You're going to ask her to marry you!!!"
"What?!" Flack snapped. "No! Hell no!"
"What's that suppose to mean?" Lindsay went from ecstatic to irritated in half a second.
"It means I'm not asking her to marry me. I just…"
"You don't feel that way about her? This is just some passing thing for you? No intention of making a real commitment to her? She's just some girl to have fun with? Fuck her and leave her type thing?"
"What?" Flack snorted at the mere thought. "You know damn well I'm in this for the long haul, Monroe. I've told you right to your face how I feel about her. How much I love her. I wasn't bullshitting you. I'm just not ready to make that step yet. Diamond ring, down on one knee. I'm not ready for a wife and you know she's in no way ready for a husband."
"But one day, right?" Lindsay asked. "One day you plan on asking her?"
"One day," he replied. "And when that day comes, you'll be the person right alongside of me at the jewellery store helping me pick something out."
"Promise?" she inquired.
"I promise. Now can you help me out here or what?"
"I can. Depending on what it is you want."
Flack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You know what kind of tampons Sam uses?" he asked quietly. So the teenage girls browsing the makeup sex behind him didn't hear what he was saying.
"I'm sorry," Lindsay said. "I didn't hear you."
"Do you know what kind of tampons Sam uses?" he repeated a little louder.
"Flack, honestly, I can't hear you," Lindsay told him. "Can you speak up?"
"Do you know what kind of tampons Sam uses?!" he bellowed into the phone.
Behind him the teenage girls busted into fits of giggles at his outburst. On the other end of the phone, Lindsay Monroe was embroiled in an all out, rib shaking belly laugh.
Flack sighed heavily and closed his eyes and shook his head and felt himself blush furiously.
"Put Danny on the phone," he spoke through gritted teeth.
"What?…why?" Lindsay managed through heaving breaths.
"Just…put Danny on the phone."
"Awww," Lindsay chided. "Are you embarrassed, Flackie? Are you tuning bright red? Is the big, bad, burly homicide detective all flustered?"
"I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You," Flack told her.
"Sammie's right, you are cute when you go all little boy bashful," she laughed.
"Monroe, that thing with the doll? I got over that. That was embarrassing enough. And I swallowed my pride and decided to be a nice guy and not seek revenge. But this? You are so going to pay for this."
"I am so terrified," she snorted. "Here's Danny."
"What was that all about?" Danny asked, as his fiance continued laughing hysterically in the background.
"You're girl is a little shit, Dan-o. A big shit, actually. Look, I need some help here, okay? Can you help me out?"
"Sounds life or death," the CSI said. "What's going on?"
"I need to know what kind of tampons Monroe uses," Flack told him. "'Cause Sam and her are best friends and a lot alike so they probably use the same type and lend them to each other if need be. What kind does she use?"
Silence on the other end.
"Danny?" Flack asked.
"I'm here. But I would swear you just asked what kind of tampons Montana uses."
"I need to know!" Flack exclaimed. "Sam sent me to buy some and I don't know what she uses!"
"You're buying Sam tampons?" Danny fought laughter. "Why?"
"Because she's on her damn period and needs them! Why else? And she doesn't leave that kind of stuff at my place for when she stays over and…"
"Why doesn't she?"
"How the hell should I know?! Just…please. Please help me out."
"Lindsay buys the big boxes. Playtex. The ones with the mixed kinds in it."
Flack's eyes scanned the items in front of me. "Pearlized applicator or cardboard?"
"Their shiny. That's all I know."
Flack reached for the box marked Playtex Pearl. "This shit shouldn't be this confusing," he complained. "I mean, how hard could it be, right?"
"Apparently for you it's rocket science," Danny teased. "And I can not believe you've pussied out and resorted to buying her tampons and shit for her."
"Hey! It's love, okay! I'd only do this for love!" Flack told him.
Danny made the sound of a whip cracking. Than dissolved into laughter.
"Fuck you both!" Flack hissed into the phone and hung up on his best friend.
He headed for the pain relief department and grabbed the extra strength Midol she'd requested and than made his way to the junk food section and nearly cleared them out of Dairy Milk and Kit Kat Chunky chocolate bars before taking his purchases to the front cash register.
"Midol…tampons…chocolate bars," the high school guy manning the register listed off each item as he scanned it and put it in his bag. "Your girl is PMSing huh?"
Flack smirked. "Buddy, you have no idea. She's ready to pull her hair out. I don't bring back exactly what she wants, it's my ass."
"I know that feeling. My girlfriend goes raging, psychotic bitch when she has her period."
"Well mine is like that all the time so you can imagine what she's like right about now," Flack commented.
The kid winced. "Ouch," he said. "Wanna make things easier on yourself? Avoid confrontation? A little trick I learned? Something to go along with the pain killers and junk food and whatever?"
"What's that?" Flack asked.
"I make use of the florist around the corner."
The detective grinned. "Are you my guardian angel? Sent here to steer me in the right direction? 'Cause you're a godsend."
"I like to help out a fellow guy when he's suffering. Forty seven, sixty three."
Flack's eyes widened. "For tampons, Midol and candy bars?"
"Women shit is expensive," the young man reasoned.
"You can say that again," Flack said, and reached into his coat pocket for the Master Card that he slipped in there last night in case they had needed extra cash at the hockey game. Only the plastic card was tangled up in the ear phones to Sam's Ipod that he'd also tucked in his pocket the night before. The Ipod he now held in his hand. Pink, with a glittering sticker of Hello Kitty gracing the back of it.
Giggles erupted beside him and he looked over to see the same teeange girls as earlier in line beside him. Staring at the pink Ipod in his hands, unable to control their amusement.
"We can never win, can we," the cashier sighed.
He had stopped by both the florist and the small Romanian run grocery store on the same block before finally heading back home. As Flack toed off his boots and put the key in the door, he could hear the stereo in the living room on and tuned into the local Top 40 station, along with Sam talking and laughing and the clinking of dishes in the kitchen.
He let himself into his apartment and found his girlfriend, still clad in his wrinkled dress shirt that still held a hint of his cologne and her hair pulled up into a sloppy ponytail, standing at his kitchen sink, up to her elbows in soap suds and the phone held to her ear with her shoulder. On her feet, lifted from one of his dresser drawers, were tube socks many sizes too big. She was just so damn cute and just so damn sexy in his clothes and bearing his scent that Flack wasn't sure how much longer he could stand not being with her. The whole nine yards instead of the eight and a half he had grown accustomed to.
He slipped between her and the cupboards on the opposite side of the narrow, galley kitchen and dropped a kiss to the top of her head before reaching over her shoulder to show her with the bouquet of flowers wrapped securely in soft pink paper.
She tilted her head back and smiled lovingly and appreciatively at him. She mouthed, "Thank you, baby" before puckering her lips for a kiss.
Who was he to deny a lady what she wanted? He gave her a small, soft kiss before pressing his lips to her temple and walking away. Dropping the grocery bags and flowers he still carried on the cluttered kitchen table, he unzipped his jacket and shrugged out of it and tossed it over one of the chairs before moving to the fridge and opening it.
"Whose on the phone?" he asked, taking out a jug of orange juice.
"My secret lover," she replied.
"Tell Monroe I don't share," he said and snagged two glasses from the drain board and poured them each some orange juice.
"You're just the king of thoughtfulness today," Sam commented, winking at him as she picked up her juice and sipped it as he retreated to the table.
"Just being a loving, doting boyfriend," he said and grabbed the morning paper he'd brought in and sat on the table before he went out.
"He looks no worse for wears," Sam said into the phone. "I guess he got over his mortal humiliation."
Flack snorted. "What could you and Monroe possibly have to talk about when you work together every day and hang out together after work and on your days off?"
"We talk about all sorts of things," she told him. "Just before you walked in we were comparing orgasms."
He choked on his orange juice.
Sam laughed and went back to her conversation. "I am telling you, Linds," she said to her best friend. "I always thought that those orgasms some women bragged about were bullshit. You know the seeing stars, lights and sirens, nearly pass out kind? But Don does this thing with his fingers and his tongue…"
"Do you mind?" Flack asked. "I'm in the room."
"You wouldn't think he'd be the type to embarrass easily," she said into the phone. "I guess talking about s-e-x bothers his virgin ears."
"Hang up that phone and I'll show you a few things that are definitely not virgin," Flack told her.
She just smirked and continued washing the dishes and talking to her best friend.
Flack watched her in between reading the sports section, drinking his juice and listening to bits and pieces of her conversation. Birth control, of all damn things. Lindsay's preference for the pill and Sam's faithful use of the Nuvaring, a small, flexible plastic ring that slipped inside like a diaphragm but stayed in until she got her period, delivering low doses of birth control into her system. At least she was well protected when the time came, although they had agreed to secure things like Fort Knox and still use condoms.
It seemed so perfect to have her standing there. In his clothes, surrounded by his things, doing simple chores and just simply breathing the same air as him. She fit into his life so easily that the times she wasn't there, that they were in separate dwellings, he felt miserable and alone and counted the damn minutes until he was with her again. And the thought of her not being in his life…well that was a thought Flack didn't care to entertain. She had changed him, and everything about him. For the better.
"Alright," she said now into the phone. "Talk later…call me if you hear anything about those New Kids on the Block tickets…okay…bye…" she pressed end on the cordless and removing one hand from the water, dried it on her shirt before taking the phone and sitting it on the counter.
"New Kids on the Block?" Flack grimaced. "You can't honestly can't be serious."
"They're coming to MSG in April," she told him. "Just in time for my birthday."
"Babe, please tell me you do not like those tools."
"It's more of a sentimental thing that is driving Linds and I there," she explained. "We both had massive crushes on New Kids when we were teens. T-shirts, videos, every album, our rooms plastered in posters. Donnie was my favourite. To me he was such a bad ass back than. Tattoos, nose piercing in the later years."
"Maybe you just have a thing for guys named Donald," Flack teased.
"Maybe," she agreed with a smile. "But Linds said for pure shits and giggles, she'd take me to see them for my birthday."
"As long as I'm not expected to go," Flack told her. "That I could not take."
"You're just expected to give me some spending money and be the chauffeur," Sam said.
He nodded. "I can do that."
She finished setting the last of the dishes in the drain board and unplugged the sinks and rinsed the soap from the one. Drying her hands on a dish towel, she journeyed over to the table and picked up the flowers and gently unwrapped the paper surrounding them. A bright, beautiful smile gracing her face as she took in the sight, and the fragrance, of a dozen pink champagne roses, one white one nestled in the middle.
"Baby, they're beautiful," she gushed, and leaned down to kiss him softly. "You didn't have to.."
"I wanted to," he told her. "Just because."
"I like when you do just because things," she said, and peeling the paper off completely, laid the roses down softly on the table before journeying over to the stove and opening the cupboards above it.
Standing on her tiptoes, she tried, in vain, to reach a simple pink frosted glass vase she had stashed up there three weeks before when the flowers that had been in them had been sent to the garbage.
Flack got up from the table and went to her aid. Snagging the vase and handing it to her.
"So Lindsay told you about my adventures in CVS?" he asked, as he flicked on the switch on the side of the electric kettle to boil the water inside.
"She did," Sam laughed as she filled the vase with water. "Who knew buying tampons could turn into such an ordeal?"
"You know I love you, right babe?"
She nodded.
"Please don't ask me ever again to do something like that. Not only did I humiliate myself by not knowing what to buy, I made matters worse by pulling a pink Ipod out of my jacket pocket."
"I was looking for that damn thing," she said. "And don't worry, I'll leave some tampons here so next month we won't have a repeat of this morning."
She filled the vase to her specifications and turned off the water. Walking over to the table, she dropped the roses in and arranged them to her liking.
"You like them?" he asked, opening a cupboard and taking down a jar of instant coffee and a box of tea bags. He personally hated the stuff, but she couldn't live without it. Pulling out two bags, he dropped one into her mug and sat the other on the microwave for another cup he knew she'd ask him to make as soon as her first was done.
"I love them," she replied, smiling as she sat the vase in the middle of the table. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he said, returning the box of tea to the cupboard before shutting it. "It was my romantic gesture for the day."
"You've had a few already," she told him. "Not let's see what my guy brought home for little old me," she said, peering into the bags. She gave a little squeal. "Chocolate! My two favourites! And lots of them! And my drugs and necessities! And you remembered a toothbrush!"
"I almost forgot it," he admitted. "I had to go back and get it."
"You're a sweetheart, Donnie. And what did you bring us for breakfast?" she looked into the second bag. Giving another squeal. "You're going to make pancakes?"
"Banana pancakes," he corrected. "Like I did the morning after the first night you spent here."
"Best damn banana pancakes ever," she declared. "And celebrity gossip magazines?" she asked, pulling a small stack from the bag.
"I know how much you love those things," he said, pouring boiling water into both mugs and snagging a spoon to stir his coffee vigorously.
"Keep this up and I may just ask you to marry me," Sam teased.
He smiled and walked across the kitchen and wrapped both arms around her from behind. "That isn't such a scary thought, is it?" he asked.
"It's not scary," she replied. "Just a little unsettling."
"Why?" he inquired, pressing his lips to her cheek.
"We've talked about this, Donnie. About taking things slow."
"And we both agreed we would. I'm just saying that the idea of marriage, me and you being husband and wife? It's not a scary thought. I'm not proposing or anything. Just commenting."
"It just freaks me out," she admitted, and wriggled out of his embrace. "This morning you were talking about us moving in together."
"I wasn't talking about it. I mentioned it. More specifically I mentioned you moving in here. My place is bigger, closer to work…"
"We're not ready for that," she said, opening the fridge and taking out a container of milk and carrying it over to where her tea sat steeping on the counter.
"You're not ready for that," Flack corrected her.
She sighed heavily and closed her eyes briefly. "Please don't do this," she whispered.
He held up his hands in surrender. "Is it okay to suggest that you leave stuff here? Like buy some things so that they're here for when you do stay over? Let me make space for you in the bathroom and my closet? Is it okay to suggest that?"
She nodded.
He sighed and joined her at the counter where she was stirring an excessive amount of milk into her tea. "I really am in this for the long haul, Samantha," he said quietly.
"I know you are, Donnie," she responded.
"Question is, are you?"
She stared at him, eyes narrowed. "How can you ask me that?"
"I need to know, Samantha. I need to hear, from you, what you're thinking. What you're feeling. I need that from you. Because I don't want to get hurt."
"Isn't it suppose to be me saying all of that?" she asked with a small laugh.
"I'm serious," he said. "I want to hear from you what's going on between us. What you want to go on between us."
"I thought I told you all of that on the subway," she sighed.
"Humor me," he told her, leaning against the cupboards. "Tell me again."
"Okay," she said, setting her mug down on the counter and than stepping in front of him and laying her hands on his sides. She looked up at him. Golden eyes fixed on blue. "I'm in love with you and falling more in love with you every day. You make me laugh and you make me cry and you make me dream. You make me want so much out of my life that I never, ever thought about before. I can see me, in the future, and hopefully the near future, being your wife and having your children and spending forever with you."
He smiled.
"But I need time, Donnie. I need time and I need you to be patient with me. You've been so amazing and wonderful with me and I need more of that from you. Can you give me that?"
He nodded and kissed her softly. "I can give you whatever you need, baby. You know that."
She smiled. "You know what I need from you first? What I want from you?"
"Breakfast?" he asked with a grin.
She shook her head. "Before breakfast."
"I thought you said you were starving," he said.
"I am. But there's something I need first. Actually, let me re-phrase that. There's something I need to do and want to do. For you."
"Yeah?" he pressed his lips to her forehead. "What's that?"
She licked her bottom lip and smiled devilishly and ran her hands down his chest to his waist as she sank down onto her knees in front of him. "I think you'll like it," she said, lifting his sweatshirt and reaching for his belt buckle. Undoing it effortlessly. "Returning the favour, so to speak."
"You don't have to," he told her, despite the fact his brain, and cock, was saying other wise as she popped open his button on his jeans and slid down the zipper.
"I want to," she assured him and yanked his pants and boxers down and over his ass and let them pool at his feet.
"Are you sure, because…"
A moan overtook all words and rational thought as a soft, warm hand closed around him and her lips touched the head of his cock.
"I'm sure," she said, licking him gently.
He said no more after that. And he learned two things very quickly.
The first was that he was never, ever going to let go of the woman he had in his life.
And the second was that in a case like this, breakfast could always wait.
Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! You guys are the ones that keep me writing! So, if you're jonesin' for more of my shtick, as Sammie would say, please drop a review! It would mean a lot!
Special thanks to:
Laurzz
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