DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS.
A/N: THANKS TO EVERYONE ADDING ME TO THEIR ALERTS AND FAVS!
WARNING: THIS CHAP IS RATED SLIGHT M FOR ADULT SITUATIONS
Letting it all go
"I could lose my heart tonight
If you don't turn and walk away
'Cause the way I feel I might
Lose control and let you stay
'Cause I could take you in my arms
And never let go
I could fall in love with you
I could fall in love with you
I could only wonder how
Touching you would make me feel
But if I take that chance right now
Tomorrow will you want me still?
So I should keep this to myself
And never let you know."
-I Could Fall in Love, Selena
It had taken Flack longer then he had expected to reach the apartment.
An hour had turned into nearly an hour and half courtesy of last minute paper work dumped on him by Deputy Inspector bumper to bumper traffic on Broadway. Stuck in the middle lane, he'd been unable to ease in between the cars on either side of him in order to take a detour down an alley or a side street. There were about five different short cuts that he could have taken Samantha's place and all were out of reach. So close yet so far. Had he not been confident in the competency of the uniform outside of Zack's apartment, Flack would have been panicking as the minutes ticked by while he was stuck behind the wheel of his SUV.
He parked a street away from Sam's building. She lived on a one way and finding a parking spot was always next to impossible. A block wasn't a far way to travel on foot, and despite the fact that in essence he was abusing power, he always shoved his NYPD placard in the corner of the windshield and parked in what would normally be tow away zones.
It was shortly before ten when he finally found himself slipping out from behind the wheel and snagging an overnight bag from the back seat of his black GMC Yukon. He locked the SUV up for the night and then jogged across the snow covered street and cut down the narrow, dark alley that separated Sam's building from the adjacent dry cleaners. He often joked that not only was dating her good for his sex life and a great cure for his loneliness, it was also good on his dry cleaning bill and the fact it took him less then five minutes to run next door. Not only was the place by her cheaper, it him fifteen minutes by car to get to the closest cleaners near his apartment.
The first time he'd made the observation, they'd been in bed and she'd asked him what he liked so much about her place. She was expecting something along the lines of 'Your place is bigger' or 'This apartment is closer to work' or even a 'Your place isn't a complete pig sty like mine'. Instead she'd gotten some lame ass comment about dry cleaning. Even now, he chuckled at the perturbed look on her face and the way she'd rolled her eyes and offered up a dramatic, exasperated sigh and flopped over onto her stomach with a curt goodnight.
It had taken him half an hour to convince her that he was only joking. Convenience and cheaper dry cleaning were the least important things to him. The truth was, her apartment felt like home. It was warm and relaxing and simply stepping into the door filled him with the utmost sense of happiness and comfort. It was well decorated, if not a little cluttered. She had furniture that didn't look like it had seen better days. Matching sheets and a comforter set on the bed. Dishes and saucers and cups that actually formed a complete set as opposed to odds and ends he'd inherited from his parents. Most of all, it felt like a home because even when she wasn't physically there, her presence was all around him. Her personal effects were on the shelves and taking up all the space. Her clothes were in the closets. Her smell lingered in the air. All the things that made Sammie surrounded him.
And when he stepped back into his own place after leaving hers, that loneliness returned once again. His place was cold and sterile. Nothing more than a place to lay his head.
Samantha was home. That's all there was to it. And it was a feeling unlike anything he'd ever experienced before in his entire life.
As was the feeling, and the knowledge, that this was permanent. They were the real deal. Both his heart and his brain were telling him the same thing. Samantha Ross was his forever. And when that thought didn't send him running, Don Flack knew that something that felt that good could ever be wrong.
He rounded the corner of her building, the snow crackling under his feet as he picked up his pace. Anxious to get the hell out of the cold and into the warmth and comfort of not only her apartment, but more importantly her embrace. The thought of spending the night in her bed brought a broad smile to his face and a indescribable yearning in his chest. Whether he spent with her wrapped tightly in her arms or simply feeling her body beside him and hearing her soft, rhythmic breathing or her delicate scent permeating his sense, the act of being close to her was enough for him. Enough to chase away the demons for at least one night.
He had just set one foot down on the bottom step of the stairs outside of her building when his cell phone, tucked away in the inside pocket of his jacket, vibrated against him. His head was down as he reached into his coat, fumbling for his phone, but he was still aware of the front door of the building swinging open and a large, strong looking figure stepping out onto the landing and then making its way down the narrow stairs. Flack backed up against the small to allow the person to pass, and had just pulled out his phone when that deep voice sent shivers down his spine and caused the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Because if the person that that voice belonged to was there, then someone had majorly fucked up.
"Long time no see, New York."
Flack looked up. Insurmountable worry and anger taking over his entire body.
Zack Tanner had stopped next to him. Their shoulders touching.
"So the big, bad detective has come to play knight in shining armour, huh?" Zack gave a smirk. "You're a little too late. I already managed to knock some sense into her."
For the first time in his life, Don Flack was at a loss for both words and actions. There was no words that could properly express the million and one terrible thoughts that were stampeding through his head.
"Enjoy her while you can Don," Zack said, as he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and continued down on the stairs. "Because that little Brooklyn girl is as good as mine again."
"Fuck you, Zack," Flack finally managed to formulate a response. "If you did anything to her…"
"Oh I did plenty," he chuckled as his feet hit the sidewalk. "You get to play the hero and go up there and pick up the pieces. Maybe she'll even show you her gratitude afterwards. She's quite the fuck, huh?"
Flack was going to give someone like Zack Tanner the pleasure of seeing him pissed off to the point of severe violence. So while all he wanted to do was head down those stairs and hand that sonofabitch his ass twice over, Flack just snorted and shook his head and hurried up towards the front entrance.
"Hey, New York!" Zack called to him.
Flack paused with his hand on the door handle and turned back towards the thorn in his proverbial side.
"I always thought you New York City cops were smarter than you are. Gotta give you credit. Putting a uniform on my door step? Clever. Too bad neither of you morons considered the fire escape or the back entrance."
And with that, Zack gave a chuckle and sauntered down the sidewalk shaking his head.
Flack's hands shook with rage and his heart hammered in his chest as he watched the other man head down the sidewalk and then disappear down the same alley Flack himself had just cut down. He wanted nothing more then to go after Zack and beat the living shit out of him. Kill him with his bare hands. Going to jail for the rest of his life was a small price to pay for ridding the world of a scum bag, nut job like Zack. Flack was pretty sure he could get a lighter sentence by pleading temporary insanity. Hell, if he goaded Zack into taking a swing at him, there was always the self defence card to play. He could probably even make it look like a simple accident. Toss Zack out into moving traffic and claim the man simply slipped during their fight. And he was sure, if he knocked Zack unconscious, he could managed to haul the big man to his truck, toss him in and drive to the Brooklyn Bridge, pull over and drop Zackie boy over the railing.
Murder seemed like an incredible option at that point. Being on the force for so long, and being around the CSIs, Flack probably knew about ninety nine ways to dispose of a body. And he was pretty sure, if he needed help doing it, Danny Messer would have his back the entire way.
He literally had one foot poised in front of him, ready to take action, when his cell phone, clasped so tightly in his hand that he was surprised he hadn't shattered it, vibrated once more. It snapped Flack out of his daze and he glanced down. Relief flooding his body at the sight of Sam's land line number on his call display.
"Are you okay?" he asked in greeting.
"Zack…" she managed through her sobs. "He was just…he was just here…I don't know what to do…"
"But are you okay?" he repeated, tossing open the front door and holding his cell phone to his ear as he fished the spare key out of his pocket.
"I don't know…I think so…Zack was here, Donnie…he was here and I don't know what to do…"
"I just ran into him outside…did he hurt you?" Flack asked, shoving the key in the lock, barely waiting for the dull click before tearing the door open and hurrying to the stairs.
"I'm scared," she sniffled. "What if he comes back?"
"He comes back and he's a fucking dead man," Flack told her. "I'm on my way up, Sammie. I'll be there in less then five minutes. You just stay where you are and calm down, okay?"
"Okay…" she said and disconnected the call.
Flack took the stairs two at a time. Hoping that the tears she was shedding were more from the fright of a confrontation with Zack, then they were that of pain. Because if Zack had inflicted any form of abuse and suffering on her, Flack was certain that there'd be nothing anyone could do to stop him from killing the bastard with his bare hands.
He was also pissed off at himself. He had thought he was doing the right thing by having a uniform outside of Zack's apartment. Someone he trusted to keep an eye on things and warn him if something was in danger of going down. Now he was kicking himself for being so goddamn stupid. For not considering other entrances and exits to the building. And most of all, for not telling Samantha ahead of time that Zack was in town. If she had have known from the get go, she would have been more prepared for when her ex came knocking at her door.
He had let her down. All the promises he had made to keep her safe and secure and make her feel protected were worthless. Because despite his best of intentions, he had now joined the list of the people who had done her wrong in her life. He had, without even trying, hurt her and betrayed her.
He tossed open the door to the third floor and stepped out into the hallway. It took less then a dozen steps to reach the door of apartment 303. And before he could get the key into the lock, he heard her tiny, meek voice from behind the door.
"It's open."
Hurriedly toeing off his shoes and leaving them by the side of the door, he grabbed the handle and twisted it and let himself into the apartment. "Sam!" he called, tossing his bag against the closet. "Where are…"
"I'm right here, Donnie," she said from below.
He looked down and found her, knees clutched to her chest, back against the wall as she sat next to the door. Her face streaked by tears, her cheek red and swollen, a small cut just below the eye. The beginnings of bruises on her jaw, in the shapes of fingers, clearly visible. Her entire body trembling.
"What the hell did he do to you?" Flack asked, quickly shedding his coat and tossing it on top of the duffel bag before dropping to his knees in front of her.
"He…he came to the apartment and knocked…" she began in a shaky voice. "I thought it was you. That you'd lost the key I gave you. I never thought to check the peep hole. I'm sorry, Donnie."
"What are you sorry for?" he asked, his voice soft, concern in his eyes as he took her chin in his hand and tilted her head towards the light to get a better look at her cheek.
"Because I didn't check who was at the door," her lower lip wobbled as she struggled to hold back tears. "I should have checked who it was."
"You thought it was me," he told her. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for. If anyone who should be apologizing, it should be me."
"For what?" she asked, wincing as his fingertips examined the cut and the swelling on her cheek.
"I should have told you earlier that Zack was in town. That he came to me this afternoon. Spewing a whole bunch of shit. I wanted to wait to tell you until we were alone. So we could actually have time to sit down and talk about things. You can't do that at work."
"What kind of things did he say to you?" she asked.
"Like I said, a whole bunch of shit. I'm sorry, Sammie. I should have told you. I put a uniform outside of Zack's apartment and the last I heard, Zack hadn't left the building and there were lights on at his place. I never even considered there being a rear entrance or a fire escape."
"You had someone surveilling him? For me?"
Flack nodded. "Fucking stupid of me to not think about alternate exits. I thought I was doing the right thing."
"You were," she said with a sniffle. "You did do the right thing. It's not your fault Zack's a sneaky bastard."
"What did he to do you, baby?"
"We had an argument. I kept yelling at him to leave. He said a whole bunch of things about me and about you and we got into it and he grabbed me and kissed me and…"
"He kissed you? For real?"
She nodded. "I bit his lip. To get him to stop. That's when he grabbed me by my face. Like this…" she demonstrated on Flack's face.
"Did he try to choke you? Anything like that?"
She shook her head. "Then we argued some more and he get upset and hit me. Backhanded me. I told him to leave and he did."
"Did he do anything else to you?" Flack asked, eyeing her wrinkled and slightly askew pyjama top.
"No. He wouldn't be that stupid. He knows I'd cut his ball off if he even thought about it."
Flack couldn't help but smirk. "Do you think you need to go to the hospital? Get some x-rays or…"
She shook her head. "I'm fine. Just scared. I'm really, really scared, Donnie."
"I know you are, babe," he laid a hand on the back of her neck and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to protect you. I should have been here."
"Will he come back?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with tears.
"He'd have to be a complete and utter moron to come back here," Flack replied. "He knows I'm here. Sonofabitch walked right past me on the stairs."
"Did he say anything to you?"
Flack shook his head and cleared her tears with gently fingertips. She didn't know the evil and filth that had come out of Zack's mouth. "Just gave that smart ass smirk of his and kept on walking. We need to get some ice on that cheek. Okay?"
She nodded.
He kissed her lips softly before getting to his feet and offering his hands. Her own were shaking viciously as she curled her fingers around his hands and allowed him to help her to her feet.
"Please hold me, Donnie," she whispered, tears trickling from her eyes once more. "I really need you to hold me right now."
"Anything you want, baby," he said and wrapped both of his strong arms around her tiny body. He buried his face in her hair and closed his eyes. Willing all the strength and warmth and love that existed inside of him into her quaking body.
After several minutes, he drew back and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before laying a hand on the small of her back and leading the way into the kitchen.
"Lock the door!" she cried. "Please lock the door! In case he comes back!"
Flack knew that Zack didn't have the guts to come back while there was someone there to defend her. But to put her fears and insecurities at rest, he went back to the front door and locked it up tight before rejoining her in the kitchen. She sat at one of the kitchen chairs, her elbow on the table and the side of her head resting in his upturned palm.
He went to the fridge and opened the freezer and snagged a cold gel pack Sam kept in there for the many nights he had come to her after a run in with a perp needing a some slight first aid and more than a little TLC. Good thing about the contraption was that if you didn't want it, or need it frozen, you could simply toss it in the microwave and heat it up to your liking. He shut the freezer and grabbed the dish towel from the handle of the oven and wrapped it around the gel pack.
"Tilt your head back, baby," he gently instructed, pulling a chair up in front of her.
"I can do it," she said.
"Well I want to do it," he told her, sitting down. He removed his tie and tossed it on the table and undid the top two buttons of his shirt and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows.
She gave a little smile and dropped her head back slightly. Little out a small yelp when the cold came in contact with her injured cheek. "What is it with you men?" she asked. "Why is it you guys always know how to get us in the perfect spot? Knuckles right on the bone? Do you guys go to some school that teaches how to backhand someone properly?"
"Not all men hit," Flack informed her. "Not real men anyway. Are you sure he didn't do anything else to you, Sammie?" he asked, as he fixed her pyjama top, the thought of Zack having his filthy hands on her making him sick to his stomach. And his rage only worse. He had promised himself he'd stay calm for her. To think about caring for her. But all thoughts of that bastard were making it so difficult to stay composed.
She shook her head in response to his question. "He didn't touch me, Donnie," she assured him. "I'd tell you if he did. I never should have answered the door."
"You didn't know it was him, babe. You thought it was me. This isn't your fault."
"If I had have handled things better," she said. "If I hadn't have just took off like I did and took the money. If I had have just told him it was over and that I couldn't stand being there anymore then maybe…"
"Then maybe he could have kicked the shit out of you there and then. Only he wouldn't have stopped at just smacking you. He would have seriously hurt you, Samantha. He probably would have even put you in the hospital. Hell, he probably even would have killed you. You handled it exactly the way you felt you had to."
"But if I'd just explained, if I hadn't have just left…"
"I don't want to hear this, babe."
"If I hadn't have gotten smart with my mouth when he was here tonight, I…"
"Samantha!" Flack snapped. "Listen to me! I don't want to hear this! You didn't do anything wrong! It wasn't your fault when you were with him and it's not your fault now! He's fucking nuts! Don't you get that? He's a goddamn looney tunes! And you defend him and say it was your fault? That you caused this?"
"If I'd just…"
"For fuck sakes!" he bellowed, causing her to jump. "Stop it! Right now! Stop blaming yourself for him being fucked up! No woman deserves what he put you through! I'm not going to sit here and listen to you blame yourself! So knock it off! Understand me?"
She nodded, speechless, tears threatening once again.
"None of it is your fault," Flack said, his voice softening. "It was never your fault. And the sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be."
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"And that's another thing," he sighed. "You're always saying sorry. For everything. You drop something or knock something over you say you're sorry. You interrupt me when I'm talking and you say you're sorry. You speak your mind or offer up an opinion and you say you're sorry. Why the hell do you say you're sorry so much?"
"In case you're mad," she reasoned. "I don't want you to be mad."
"You need to stop this weak, dependant crap, babe. Because I know for a fact that you are far from weak. You're strong and you're independent. Zack puts this bullshit in your head and you believe it. You're not the way he says you are. You know that right?"
"He says that I'm crazy," she said. "That I get out of control and violent and that he had to treat me that way to stop me from hurting myself."
"And do you believe that?"
"I had some problems. With depression. Something happened and I lost it. I was grieving and I got depressed and he couldn't deal with it and he put me in the hospital. For nearly two months! Two months I was in there!"
"Just adds to my theory that he's nuts. Not being able to deal with something like that is his problem. He had no right treating you like that."
"He said that no man is going to want to be with me because of what happened. That because I might not be able to give someone a family that they won't want to be with me."
"What are you talking about, Sammie? What happened to you?"
"I got hurt at work. There was an incident with a perp and I…I was pregnant and I lost the baby. I hemorrhaged really bad and the doctors almost had to give me a hysterectomy. They said that because of all the scar tissue, that getting pregnant again may be close to impossible."
The words I was pregnant replayed themselves over and over again in Flack's mind. He was so stunned by her confession, of this previous life revelation, that he wasn't entirely sure he had even heard the rest of what she had said. Bits and pieces were floating around in his head. Something about getting hurt at work and losing the baby and how she bled out and the doctors weren't sure she'd ever have kids because of it.
"Please say something, Donnie," she pleaded. "Anything. Say anything."
"Zack said that?" he asked, once he'd finally found his voice. "That no one would want you if you can't get pregnant?"
She nodded. "That it wasn't fair to any man. That they wouldn't want me if I couldn't give them a family."
"Well Zack's full of shit," Flack declared. "Because honestly, when that time comes for me and you? When we get onto having kids? It's not going to matter if you can't have a baby. I'll love you no matter. Not having kids is not the end of the world."
"You don't want kids?" she asked.
"It's not that I don't want them," he replied. "It's just that if you can't give them to me, it's not going to kill me. So we adopt. Big deal."
"But that wouldn't be your own child," she said. "It wouldn't be something we made together."
He shrugged. "So what? We'd love it together. And that's more important then us actually making it. Don't you think?"
She nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that right from the start. I should have told you."
"Why? You didn't need to tell me right off the hop. That's something you tell someone when things are getting serious and the talk about babies has popped up once or twice. We haven't really talked about that kind of thing. Important thing is that you told me."
She sniffled noisily. "You always seem to know exactly what to say," she said.
"I'm a work in progress," he grinned. "Ninety percent of the time I still open my mouth without thinking. And instead of talking about babies, we should be talking about what we're going to do about Zack. 'Cause honestly babe, the things he said today to me, about you…" Flack shook his head. "He's nuts. Plain and simple."
"What did he say to you?" she asked.
"Like I said, a whole bunch of shit," Flack told her, removing the ice pack from her face and standing up.
"Like?" she pressed.
"He just said that you were sneaky and manipulative," he told her, removing the gel pack from the towel before tossing it back into the freezer. "That he's the only one who knows how to control you. That if I knew what was good for me, I'd just hand you over to him."
"And what did you tell him?"
"I told him to take a fucking hike," Flack responded. He went to the sink and snagged a glass from the drain board and filled it with cold water from the tap. "You think I'd believe that? He's the sneaky and manipulative one. He's already proved that."
"He thinks I'm a bad person," she said. "That I've done him this serious injustice and I need to be punished."
"Like I said, he's a wackjob. We need to figure out what we're going to do about him."
"Throw him off the Brooklyn Bridge?" Sam suggested.
"Tempting," Flack said with a grin and sidestepped a couple of feet and opened a cupboard, taking out the bottle of extra strength Tylenol and carrying both to the table and returning to his seat. "But I was thinking more along the lines of a restraining order or filing charges. Or both. Say the word babe and I'll call one of my guys and have Zack scooped up. And have him walked into a few lamp posts for good measure."
"No restraining order," she said. "And I'm not pressing charges."
"Are you fucking nuts?" he asked. "He came to your place and seriously hurt you. You think I'm going to let that happen again?"
"It won't happen again," she assured him. "He made his point. He knows I've moved on."
"Only point that he's going to be making is when he either drags your ass back to Phoenix or he kills you. Or both. You can't honestly sit here and tell me that he doesn't deserve to be punished."
"Of course he deserves to be punished. Just a restraining order and charges aren't the punishment I had in mind."
"You want me to go over to his place right now? Take Danny with me for good measure? Scagnetti even? Because just say the word, babe and I'll be over there laying the beating of a lifetime on that motherfucker."
"That would only get you guys into trouble," she said. "Someone else needs to do it."
"You mean like hire someone?"
"I mean ask someone to do a favour. To teach Zack a lesson. To show him that he's fucking with the wrong people."
"And do you know anyone that's willing to do that? Because I don't. I can't think of a single person who would…"
"Terrence Davis," she said.
"What about him?" he asked her.
"Terrence knows people," Sam replied. "A lot of people. People that owe him favours. People that can't be, and won't be traced back to him, or us."
"Terrence Davis is a hardened criminal, Sammie."
"And he's also your CI," she pointed out.
"Doesn't mean he's going to be dolling out the favours for me any time soon. He'd either hang up on me or laugh in my face. Tell me to…"
Sam looked down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "He said that he'd help me," she said in a quiet voice.
Flack's eyes widened. "You talked to Terrence Davis?"
She nodded.
"When?"
"I called him after Zack left."
"Why the hell would you call him?"
"Because I knew that you wouldn't be able to do anything about Zack without getting in trouble. Same with Danny and anyone else we know. And I figured that Terrence had connections so I…"
"You called him at the club?"
She shook her head. "His private number."
"Where'd you get his private number?" Flack asked angrily.
She sighed heavily.
"Samantha…"
"You left your lap top here this past Thursday and if I knew that you kept information like that in there. So I went into it and looked it up," she admitted.
He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. "You did what?" he asked, resisting the urge to shake some sense into her.
"I didn't know what else to do," she told him. "I knew that I needed someone to help me and I…"
"What about me?!" he snapped. "I'm your boyfriend! You couldn't ask me?"
"Like I said, I didn't want you getting caught, Donnie. Because if you get caught doing anything to Zack, you'll lose your shield and I…"
"Fuck the shield, Samantha!" he shouted. "Fuck it! You think I care about the job when it comes to protecting you? You're all that matters to me!"
"And you're all that matters to me. Which is why I couldn't ask you to go after Zack. I love you and I don't want you losing your job because of someone like Zack. I went in a different direction to protect you."
"You went into my personal information and called my CI to protect me?" he snorted. "Excuse me if I find you hacking into my shit a little twisted."
"I didn't hack into it," she argued. "I just turned the lap top on and went into some of your files and…"
"Those files are none of your business, Samantha. Those names and those numbers in there? Of people that I used for information? None of that is your business."
"Then you shouldn't have just left it here," she reasoned.
"Well excuse me for fucking trusting you enough to not go through my stuff!" he bellowed, jumping to his feet and pacing the kitchen. "Those people in there depend on me to keep them and their identities safe, Samantha! And you go in there and look at them?!"
"I was only looking for Terrence," she told him. "That was the only name I was interested in, Donnie. I didn't look at anything else."
"Jesus Christ," he muttered and leaned against the sink. He put his elbows on the ledge and his face in his hands. "I can't believe you would do that, babe. How are these people suppose to trust me? I need these people! I need the information they give me! And you're going through their names and their numbers? For fuck sakes."
"I was only looking for Terrence," she repeated. "That was the only name that mattered. And when I got his number I closed everything up and logged off."
Flack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "So what did Terrence say?" he asked, turning around to face her. Arms folded over his chest.
"He said that he'd help me. I told him about my problems with Zack and Terrence said he'd help me."
"Just like that?" Flack asked. "At what cost?"
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Don't have a blond moment, Samantha. You know what I mean. He said he'd help you. What does he want in return?"
"Nothing. He said he didn't want anything."
"Bullshit," Flack snorted. "Guys like Davis don't do things for people without wanting something in return. Guys like him always have a price. So what is it this time? Money? He knows we both work for the city. I've already given him a get out of jail free card so it's not that."
"He doesn't want anything, Donnie. He just…"
"If you even dare tell me that his cost was getting you alone so he could fuck you as payment…"
"What?!" Sam yelled, bolting to her feet. "You actually think I'd do something like that?"
"He wouldn't just be something like this to help you out," Flack told her.
"All he said was that he'd help me out! That he couldn't stand assholes that beat women and that he'd help me! That's it! How the hell can you even think I would sleep with someone as a form of payment? What? I'm some kind of fucking prostitute?"
"I never said you would do it. I just know what guys like him are like Samantha. And if he thinks that that's what you're going to do for him…"
"He wants me to meet him. He wants me to come to the club tomorrow afternoon."
Flack shook his head. "You're not going there alone. No way in hell."
"And that's what I told him. I told him you'd never go for that. And you know what he said, Donnie?"
Flack shook his head.
"He said he respected that. And that he respected you. And that you could come with me."
Flack sighed and ran a hand over his face. "This is insane, Samantha. Absolutely insane."
"But he trusts you," she said, stepping in front of him and laying her hands on his sides. "And you trust him enough to be a CI."
"Doesn't mean I trust him enough to let him do my girlfriend favours."
"But you trust me, right?" she asked. "You trust me enough to do right thing, don't you?"
"Of course I do, babe. You're not the issue here. This man is a hardened criminal who…"
"Who you let give you information to go after other hardened criminals. That's trust, Donnie. You have to trust him not to give you fake info and lead you into getting yourself killed. I'm just asking you to trust him. He doesn't want anything in return. And even if he did, he wouldn't be getting anything."
"I just hope you know what you're doing, Samantha. You don't fuck with people like this."
"I know. But he was the first person I thought of. And I trust you to have my back."
"I'll always have your back, babe," he told her, laying his hands on her hips. "Even in sheer insanity like this."
"I wouldn't have called him if I didn't think I had any other choice," she said.
"There are other choices. Laying charges. Getting a restraining order. Calling his supervisor and telling him what happened and getting Zack's badge and credentials yanked."
"That's tame compared to what he deserves. He deserves a beating and you know it."
"I do. But I wanted to be the one to give it to him."
"You mean too much to me to have you go to jail for Zack," Sam told him. "Trust me, Donnie. Please."
"I do trust you," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "There's never been a question about that."
"I just want him to leave me alone," she whispered, resting her head against Flack's chest.
"Soon, baby," he assured her, kissing the top of her head. "Once he gets his ass handed to him by some of Terrence's boys, he won't bother you anymore. I promise. And if he does…that's when I take care of him personally."
She shivered at the determination and vehemence in his voice. "Please don't do anything," she pleaded, turning her golden eyes up on them. "Because the thought of losing you because of Zack…"
"I'm not going anywhere," he promised, and slid his hands up her back and over her shoulders. Tenderly holding her delicate face in his strong, rough hands, he trailed kisses over every inch of her porcelain skin.
Beginning with her smooth forehead and travelling down her nose and then to the her eyes. His lips were soft and moist and warm on her skin and moved gently over her injured cheek and up the other side of her face. While those hose feathery kisses made her tingle from head to toe, the tenderness of his actions brought tears to her eyes. The touch of his lips and the way he held her face filling her with sending surges of love and adoration sweeping through her entire body.
His lips finally reached hers. Pressing kisses along her top lip and then her bottom before seizing her mouth in a long, deep and intense kiss.
It was then that she felt all her inhibitions and hesitations begin to crumble. The fears of love and intimacy being stripped away. And she opened her mouth to his, sighing as his tongue sought her, brushing against it tentatively at first before seizing it urgently and demandingly, she realised that she had never needed, or wanted, someone so desperately in her entire life.
Her hands slipped from his sides and drifted up his chest, her fingers setting to work on snapping open the buttons on his shirt as his moved his hands away from her face and his lips drifted away from hers and trailed across her cheek. One hand settled briefly on her hip before sliding around to explore the contours of her ass while the other reached for the plastic sticks holding her hair in place. Yanking them out, he let them drop to the floor with a clatter and then combed his fingers through her luxurious brunette locks. Twisting and gripping her hair tightly and gently yanking her head to the side, exposing her slender neck to his greedy lips.
She yanked his shirt out of his pants and finished with the buttons, the feelings of desire and longing almost too much to bear. Moaning at the sensation that surged through her as his teeth grazed across her skin and his hand slipped down the back of her pyjama bottoms and down the cleft of her ass. She reached for his belt buckle, quickly and effortlessly undoing it before popping open the button on his pants and sliding down the zipper. Enjoying the sounds of his harsh breathing and the low moan he gave as she slipped her hand across the front of his boxers.
"Sammie…" he was panting as he broke away from her, his hand moving from her ass to intercept her hand that was moving it's way down the front of his boxers. "We gotta stop."
"What?" she asked, her golden eyes perplexed, sweat beading on her forehead and her face flushed. "Are you kidding me?"
He shook his head. "We can't…I mean, it's not that I don't want to…'cause trust me, I do. I think you can feel the evidence of that."
She smiled and nodded and licked her top lip in eager anticipation.
"But we just can't. That whole monthly visitor situation."
"It's called a period, Don," she said. "And it stopped this morning. I'm one of the lucky ones that go for three days and adios. So, there's no reason for us to stop…" she reached into his boxers once again.
"Samantha, listen to me," he stilled her hand once more. "All the other times we've come close, you've always bailed on me in the end. And I was cool with it. I was. I understood. But this time? This time I'm afraid I won't be able to stop when you tell me to. 'Cause honestly? I have zero self restraint left."
"Neither do I," she told him. "I can't take it anymore. Wanting you and needing you this bad. I'm not going to tell you to stop this time."
"You said that last time."
"But this time I mean it," she vowed. "I'm serious, Donnie. I'm through being afraid. I just…I want you. I need you. More than I could ever possibly tell you. I need you to want me and need me."
"I do want you and need you. Don't ever doubt that, baby."
She smiled and grabbed him by he front of his short and yanked him down into a passionate kiss. "Make love to me," she said, her voice quiet and sincere, her golden eyes locked on his blue ones.
He buried his fingers in her hair once more and kissed her. Hungrily and greedily. Releasing the grip on her hand, allowing her soft, warm fingers to stroke him from root to tip. "We better go into the bedroom then," he told her, pressing feathery kisses to her jaw. "'Cause the last thing I want this to be is some quick fuck on the kitchen floor. Or the counter. Or the table."
"I don't know," she said, a devilish smile on her face. "Ever seen the movie Bull Durham? The part where Kevin Costner just pushes everything on the floor and ravishes Susan Sarandon right there and then? That always did something for me."
"Yeah?" he asked. "Well how about tomorrow morning after you make me breakfast I shove everything on the floor and we recreate that scene ourselves?"
"Promise?" she asked. "Because I will hold you to that, you know."
"I hope you do. There's something sexy about the idea of licking maple syrup off of every inch of your body."
"If that's the case," she removed her hand from his boxers and hurried over to the cupboard near the stove. Tossing it open, she rummaged through the shelves until she came up with a small bottle of syrup and held it out for him to see, a triumph grin on her face. "It's that stuff I got in the duty free shop when Linds and I went to the Canadian side of Niagara Falls last summer."
"What? Some guy in an igloo sell it to you?" Flack asked, doing his pants back up.
She rolled her eyes. "That's a stereotype. Canadians do not live in igloos or drive dogsleds."
"That stuff is going to make a hideous mess of your sheets," he informed her.
"No more of a mess then what the mint chocolate chip ice cream did when you decided to use the stufff as erotic body paint a month ago."
He grinned. "Hundred and one ways to eat ice cream," he declared. "Eating it off of Samantha Ross is at the top of my list."
"Well you can add licking maple syrup off of me to your list of kinky shit you love," she said and held the bottle out.
"You sure about this Sam? It's going to make a hell of a mess."
"I know how to do laundry," she told him. "And we can put a towel down over the sheets."
"Maple syrup, huh?" he smirked as he took the bottle off of her.
"It was originally your idea," she said and grabbed him by the hand. "So you better make good on it."
"Hope your neighbours are either heavy sleepers or they don't mind noise," he told her, allowing her to yank him out of the kitchen.
"Why's that?" she asked.
"If you thought all the other times we've done things have been noisy, just you wait. You're going to have a sore throat for a week with all the screaming you're going to be doing."
"Promises, promises," she laughed. "Let's just see what you got, Detective Flack."
"Be careful what you wish for, Sam," he said with a chuckle, then reached out and picked her up effortlessly and tossed her over his shoulder.
"I wanted Rhett Butler!" she giggled. "Not Caveman!"
"Frankly my dear," he said, slapping her ass. "I don't give a damn."
She laughed. "Donald Flack, you are so corny."
"Horny, Sam. I'm horny," he corrected her, and pushing her bedroom door open with his foot, carried her inside and dropped her into the middle of the bed.
"Well then," she said, pushing herself up towards the headboard. "I guess you should get down here and do something about that."
"Get them clothes off and I'll get right on it. Or you, I should say."
She grinned and peeled off her sweater and tank top as lifted her ass off the mattress and yanked off her pants as he uncapped the maple syrup and sat it on the night stand before disposing of his own clothes.
He climbed onto the bed, capturing her lips in an intense kiss, gently using his body to push her onto her back before coming down over top of her, propping on one arm as the hand of the other explored every inch of her exquisite body. Feeling her shudder and seeing the goosebumps that pricked up on her silky skin. Hearing the hitch in her breath and seeing the slight nervousness in her eyes as his hand drifted between her legs.
"You nervous?" he asked.
She bit her lip and nodded.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Sammie," he promised, pressing kisses along her collarbone.
"I know," she breathed, burying her fingers in his hair. "It's just…I've only been with one other person…"
He raised his head to look at her. "You serious?"
She nodded again.
He kissed her softly. "I'll be gentle," he said. "You trust me?" he asked.
"With my life," she replied.
Smiling, he let his lips travel down the length of her body.
She groaned loudly and closed her eyes and dug her heels into the mattress and her fingernails into his scalp at the feel of his moist, deft tongue on her clit.
She had come so far in such a small amount of time.
She was giving herself to him.
Wholly and completely.
Forever.
Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even the lurkers! Please, please R and R folks!
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