DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS.

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY HANAKKAH, SEASONS GREETINGS…WHATEVER YOU CELEBRATE, MAY YOU HAVE A JOYOUS HOLIDAY AND MAY IT FIND YOU SAFE AND WARM! GOD BLESS ALL OF YOU!

YOU GUYS REALLY DIDN'T THINK I'D LEAVE YOU HANGING DID YOU? ;)


Two simple words, a world of hurt

"I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new and the reason is you
I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
That's why I need you to hear
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you."
-The Reason, Hoobastank


Time seemed to stand still.

Those two simple words seemed to hang in the air. Blue eyes remained locked on golden ones. Their hearts thundered in their chests simultaneously. His hand alternated between smoothing her hair away from her forehead and gently caressing her cheek. His lips hovered over hers as her mouth, and her brain, struggled to find a suitable answer to his question.

Had it even been a question? It had sounded more like a statement. A random thought. As if his lips had jumped ahead of his head and broke an unspoken rule between them. One that stated that any talk about marriage and the past and present and future was strictly off limits. She had thought that after their talk on the subway, after sharing her thoughts about what she would like their wedding to be like and how many children she'd like and how she was considering him as her future husband and father of her babies, that he'd pushed all thoughts of such things to the back of his mind. That he'd been happy with her responses and accepted them.

Apparently that wasn't the case. Marriage was obviously on his mind and whether he'd just meant to think what he'd said or if he'd actually meant to let those words slip from his lips, there was no taking them back. And judging by the intensity in his eyes and the way in which he seemed to be staring into her very soul, he had meant exactly what he had said.

Don Flack was a good man with a huge heart. Under that gruff exterior and aside from the sarcastic, dry wit that he possessed, he was loving and tender when he chose to be. And he deserved a lot better then not getting an answer. He deserved someone that could give him what he wanted. And at that point in time, that someone wasn't her.

She reached up and took his face in both of her hands and kissed him softly. "I'm sorry, Donnie," she whispered, looking deep into his eyes. "I love you. You know I do. I've never loved anyone the way that I love you."

"But…" he said, his body tensing above her, hurt already evident in his eyes.

"Don't hate me," she pleaded. "Please don't be angry."

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes briefly.

"I just…" she felt tears prick her eyes. She wondered whose heart she was actually breaking. His or her own. "I just can't…I'm sorry but I just can't marry you."

He nodded and dropped his head to press a kiss to her forehead. He stroked her cheek with his thumb and smiled gently at her. "I know," he said.

A tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. "I'm sorry," she breathed.

"It's okay, baby," he assured her, and brushed the tears away with the pad of her thumb and pressed soft kisses to each eye. "I know that, too."

She sniffled noisily and reached up to comb her fingers lovingly through his hair before he captured her lips in a sensual kiss before moving away from her, flopping onto his back and draping a forearm over his eyes.

Flack felt her hair brush against his arm as she moved beside him. He heard the rustle of the bed sheets and the slight swaying of the mattress and the creak of the springs underneath them. There were so many things that he wanted to say to her. So many thoughts and emotions swirling through him. But at that point in time, all words had seemed to escape him. Because while he'd expected her answer to be a negative one, hearing her reject him had still broken his heart. He had thought that maybe, just maybe, after seeing her through the incident with Zack and supporting her through the deal with Terrence Davis, that she had seen that he was in the relationship for the long haul. That she had realized she could trust him wholly and completely.

Obviously that wasn't the case. And that was what hurt most of all. Not the actual turn down, but what that turn down had meant about the state of her feelings for him.

"Donnie…" her voice was quiet as she laid a hand on his chest. "Please say something."

He shook his head and heard her sigh. Lifting his arm slightly, he glanced over and saw she was lying on her stomach, her cheek resting on the bed as she had her head turned away from him, her hand remaining on his chest. He replaced his left arm with his right, covering his eyes once again and placed his free hand over his. Entwining his fingers with hers tightly. Neither spoke for several minutes. They just lay in the middle of their bed, holding hands. It had, the moment he'd spent the first night there, ceased being just her bed. It was something that they shared. That they slept in and had intimate moments in. And now made love in. It was theirs and memories had been made in that bad. And hopefully, there were many more to come.

"Samantha?" Flack finally spoke, breaking the silence.

She lifted her head and turned to look at him.

"Do you mean ever?" he asked without uncovering his eyes. "When you say you can't, do you mean you can't ever?"

"You know that that's not what I mean," she replied. "We've already talked about this, Donnie. That night on the subway. We talked about marriage and kids and you said right to my face that the questions you were asking me were for future reference. That it may happen months down the road or even a year. That was a week ago almost and I thought you understood that I didn't…"

"I need you to be honest with me," he said, removing his arm from his face and looking at her. "I need you to look me in the eye and tell me what you meant when you said you can't. Did you mean you can't right now? Or did you mean you can't ever?

She shifted her position on the bed. Moving closer to him and resting her chin on his chest. "I meant that I love you more than life itself but I can't marry you right now. It's too soon. For either of us. We haven't been together that long and…"

"We've known each other for more than a year," he reminded her. "You know more about me than my own family does."

"Knowing each other as friends and knowing each other as lovers is two entirely different things," she told him. "We need to learn about each other inside and out, Donnie. And there's a lot of personal stuff that we still don't know about each other."

"So why can't we get married and learn about them?" he asked.

"Because if we start out a marriage like that, we might learn things about each other that will wreck whatever we had quicker then it began," she replied. "And I don't want that. I don't want to go into a marriage and something come up that shocks either of us and destroys what we have."

"What could there possibly be in either of our lives that would destroy us?" Flack asked.

"I just think it's better to learn things about each other when there's still a way of getting out if that's what we want."

"I don't want to get out," he told her angrily. "Don't you see that? I don't want to get out of this. This is what I want with my life, babe. I want you as my wife and the mother of my children. I want us to be together. Firmly and legally together."

"You can't honestly tell me that you think we've been together long enough to get married."

"My grandparents on my mom's side knew each other for three weeks before they got married," he informed her.

"And your parents dated from the time they were in grade eight until they got married fresh out of high school. So there's two totally different ends of the scale in your family alone."

"One is not better than the other," he argued.

"I know that. I am just saying that I don't want us rushing into something when we have our whole lives ahead of us to learn about each other."

"I am not spending my whole life waiting for you to make up your goddamn mind," he snapped, rolling away from her and moving across the bed until he swung his legs over the side and sat up. He ran his hands over his weary face and over his head before settling them at the back of his neck.

"You said that you'd be patient with me," she gently reminded him.

"I know," he said and sighed heavily. "I know. And you also told me that you weren't going to wait a year for me to ask you to marry me and now you're telling me that we have our whole lives ahead of us? What the hell, Samantha?"

"I don't mean that you're going to wait that long for an answer," she told him, sitting up in the middle of the bed.

"Well what the hell do you mean?" Flack asked. "It either is or it isn't, you know?"

"I mean that I think it's too soon for us to be getting married. And I think deep down you know it's too early, too."

He scratched at the back of his head and took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I just want to share my life with you," he said. "That's all I want."

"And we can share our lives together, Donnie," she said, reaching out to rub his back softly. "We don't need to rush into a marriage in order to share our lives together. I thought that you were okay with the way things are between us."

"Well I'm not, okay?" he snapped. "I'm not okay with it. I only acted like I was to make you happy."

"Do you love me, Don?" she asked.

"What?" he shot her a foul look over his shoulder. "You actually have to ask me that?"

"Outside of sex," she responded.

"Wait a minute, Sam. This has nothing to do with sex. You and I? We are not based on sex. I waited three months! Three months! Until you felt comfortable enough to let me make love to you! Do you think that that was easy for me? Do you think that every day I didn't wish you'd just get over your paranoia's and discomforts and just let me love you already? This isn't about sex. Far from it. Sex is just something that comes with us. Something that we enjoy and makes us feel good. That we're fucking amazing at. But it's not everything! I've never gotten this close to a woman. Emotionally. I have laid my heart and my soul bear to you! And you have the nerve to sit there and ask me if I love you outside of your body and what you can do with it?"

"I'm sorry," she said, moving closer to him and laying both of her hands on his shoulders and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. "I never meant you to take it that way."

"You ask me if I love you? I love you more and more every day. More today then yesterday but less then tomorrow."

She smiled against his back. "Where did you get that?"

"My dad writes it in every card he gives my mother. From the time I was a baby. And she saved every one of them cards. Keeps them in a memory box. I used to laugh about it. About how goddamn sappy my old man was for someone that beat on us and treated us like he did. I didn't understand how he could say he loved her when he acted that way. Or how anyone could love someone that much."

"And now?" she asked.

"And now I can honestly say I know how he feels. Because you are my everything. My heart and my soul. The reason I get up in the morning and do this godforsaken fucking job in this godforsaken fucking city. You're my world. I would lay down and die for you, Samantha. Gladly. So don't ever, ever again question if I love you or not."

"I'm sorry," she said, for a lack of anything better, and curled her arm around his waist. "Tell me what you want, Donnie? Aside from marriage. Tell me what you want. Out of us."

"I want us to live together," he blurted out. "I want us to find a place big enough for the two of us to live comfortably in and that we're happy in and we can afford with the money we make. Here in Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island, Bronx, Brooklyn, I don't give a shit. As long as we're together."

"If that's what you want," she said, kneeling behind him and kissing the back of his head as she wrapped her arm around his neck.

"I want us to both want it," he told her. "This isn't just about me. This is about us. And there's a you in us and I want you to want it, too."

"I'm going to have to think about it," she said.

He snorted and shook his head and untangled himself from the arm around his waist and the one around his neck.

"Don, in all fairness, you can't just drop this on me and expect an answer right away," she said gently.

"And in all fairness it shouldn't be that hard of a decision for you to make," he retorted, wheeling around to look at her.

"I don't know what you want from me," she sighed, and laid down on the bed, on her side, facing away from him.

"I want you to tell me you want the same things from us that I do!" he bellowed. Exasperated with her.

"What more do you want me to say!" she yelled in response, turning to face him. "Do you want me to tell you I want you to be my husband? That I want to be the mother of your children? That I want to grow old and grey alongside of you and die warm and peaceful and secure in your arms? Is that what you want from me, Don?!"

"That's a goddamn start!"

"Well I do! Okay? I want all of that. I want all of you. I want your good days and your really shitty fucking days. I want to love you for the rest of my life and for you to love me for the rest of your life. I want us to have kids and grand kids and great grand kids! I want us to be driving each other fucking crazy for the next sixty plus years! I want to still be holding your hand walking down the street and making love with you decades from now! I want all of that!"

He blinked. Taken back by her passionate, sincere words.

"I want all of that and more!" she cried. "But neither of us are ready to get married and have children! Why can't we just enjoy each other and love each other while we still have one another all to ourselves!"

"Because we don't know how long forever is going to be, Sam! We don't know how much time we have together! Anything could happen! Especially in our line of work. And I'm worried that something is going to happen and none of that is ever going to happen!"

"And you call me the fatalistic one," she said with a dry laugh.

"I'm being completely honest. A lot of good cops die on the street and leave people behind. And I don't want that happening to me."

"And I do? You think I don't worry about you every time you walk out that door? You don't think that when you get a late night call out that I don't lie awake all night waiting for that phone to ring or for someone to show up at the door with bad news? I think about it all the time. But I don't allow thoughts like that to run my life! And a lot of good people die and leave behind people that loved them. Not just cops."

"I know that. But you know the statistics involved with our job and…"

"And I also know there's a greater chance of walking out the front door and getting hit by a car while crossing the street!" she argued. "Don't use the job as an excuse to jump into a marriage."

"It's not an excuse! I want to marry you because I love you and I want a family with you!"

"And you will have that! Just not right now!" she yelled. "What is so hard to understand about this?!"

"What is so hard to admit you're too goddamn scared to marry me! That you're too goddamn scared I'm going to turn out like Zack!"

She stared at him. "I am not scared of that," she said. "You are far from being like Zack."

"Then what the hell is the problem?!"

"The problem is that I'm not ready to marry you!" she responded. "I am not ready for that!"

"Then we'll move in together until you are ready," he decided.

"I told you I needed some time to think about that," Sam said. "You can't make that decision for both of us."

"And how long am I suppose to wait, Samantha? A couple of days? A week? A month? A few months?"

She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," she admitted.

"You don't know?" he asked. Chuckling, he shook his head and turned away from her. "That isn't good enough," he said.

"Well for now it's going to have to be," she told him.

He threw his hands up in the air in surrender. "Fine," he huffed. "Fine. If you need some time that's fine."

"I just need to think about it and…" she paused mid sentence as she watched him stalk around the bed and gather his laptop and case files up. Setting the items on the edge of the bed before grabbing the clothes he'd worn that day from the chair in the far corner. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"What does it look like?" he inquired, quickly shedding his sweats and t-shirt and climbing into his jeans.

"Why?"

"Because I'm going home," he said, zipping and buttoning his pants. "You need time to think and I need some time away from you before you drive me mental. So I am taking off and going home."

"But this is your home," she argued.

"No, Sam. It's not," he told her, buckling his belt before yanking his Henley shirt over his head.

"Don't be like this," she pleaded, walking across the mattress on her knees, until she reached the foot of the rumbled bed. "Please don't be like this."

"You said you wanted time to think," he reminded her.

"I didn't mean you had to leave me for me to do it!" she cried. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because we need to spend some time apart," he told her. "We need some time away from each other. And maybe that will make us both realize what we really want out of this."

"How much time?" she asked, sounding and looking terrified.

"I don't know," he replied, throwing her words back in her face.

"Don't do this to me," she begged, tears spilling down her cheeks, her hands reaching out to grasp the front of his shirt. "Please…don't do this to me."

He took her face in his hands and kissed her softly. "I'm not going forever, Samantha."

"That doesn't matter!" she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. "Don't go! Please don't go!"

"I'm sorry," he told her and running his hands over her hair, pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "But I have to. For both of us."

She shook her head vigorously.

"I love you," he said, lips buried in her hair. "So much. But this is the best for both of us."

"Please…" she sobbed, turning her tortured face up to him. "I'm sorry. We'll move in together. We'll get married. Whatever you want. Whatever will make you stay."

"That's the problem, Samantha," he said, as he pulled away from her and pried her hands off of his shirt. "It shouldn't be because you're afraid of being alone. It should be because it's what you want."

"It is what I want!" she cried as he backed away from her. "It is!"

He bit his lip and shook his head and gathered his things up. "I'll call you when I get in so you know I'm okay."

"Don't do this," she said with a sniffle.

"I'll call you," he repeated, then headed for the door.

"I love you," she called after him. "No matter what you think."

"I don't doubt that you do," he told her, and stepping out into the hallway, closed the bedroom door softly behind him. He stood in front of that closed door, his forehead resting against the wood and his hand gripping the doorknob tightly. His heart breaking at the sound of her soft crying.

Taking a deep breath, Flack forced himself to step away from the door. He headed through the dark apartment and went to the front door. Shoving his feet into his hiking boots that rested on the plastic mat by the door before walking the two feet to the hall closet and tossing it open. He ripped his coat from the hanger and yanked it on. Unlocking the deadbolt, he opened the apartment door and slipped out into the quiet hallway.

He pulled the spare key from the pocket of his jacket and shoved it in the lock. Pausing before locking the door.

Go with your heart, the voice inside of him ordered. Go with what your heart is telling you. It won't let you down.

Sighing heavily, he pulled the key from the lock and dropped it into his pocket before letting himself back into the apartment. He secured the dead bolt once again and toed off his shoes and sat the lap top and the case folders on the kitchen counter before tossing the key on the microwave and shedding his coat and hanging it back up in the closet.

He went into the living room. The moonlight cascading through the windows and sending shards of light dancing on the floors and the furniture. He arranged the throw cushions at one end of the couch before removing his Henley and slipped out of his pants before lying down on the sofa and grabbing the blanket on the back of it and covering himself to his chin. There was no way in hell he was leaving her alone. She needed him.

And he needed her.

It was going to be a hell of a long night.


Bright sunshine streamed through the living room windows, disrupting Flack from a fitful sleep. He had spent more than half the night tossing and turning. A million and one thoughts stampeding through his mind as his girlfriend, the love of his life, spent the night alone less than twenty feet away in the bedroom. So close yet so far. There were so many things that he wanted to say to her. He had gone into the bedroom twice to check on her through the night. The first time, she hadn't heard him push the door open as she lay with her back towards him, buried under the covers and crying quietly. He stood in the doorway, desperate to just go to her and take her in his arms and kiss all her tears away and apologize for the way he had handled things. For not giving her the space that she had told him at he beginning of their relationship that she needed. She had been more then honest about needing time to make decisions regarding their future. That she wasn't in a place to consider marriage and kids. And he had told her that he accepted that. That she could take as long as she needed to be ready for that kind of commitment.

At the time, he'd been convinced that he was able to wait for her to come around. That he could patiently sit back until she was able to tell him what she wanted out of their relationship. Only as the days ticked by and he saw Danny and Lindsay together, engaged and disgustingly happy and planning their forever, Flack realized that he couldn't wait an eternity for his forever to begin. And as hard as he had tried not to pressure her into a making any kind of decision, he had in turn achieved one thing. Pushing her away completely.

The second time he'd gone in to see if she was okay, she'd been fast asleep. Exhausted and emotionally spent. And he'd crept to the side of the bed and knelt on the floor and smoothed her hair away from her face and pressed feathery kisses to her forehead and face.

He was convinced that he had screwed things up. Big time. Terrified to hear her telling him to take a permanent hike the next day, he had set the alarm clock on his cell phone and planned to be out of that apartment before she woke up.

But things didn't always go according to plan.

Because while that warm sunlight streamed into the living room, bathing him in warmth, he became aware of the tiny body pressed up against his. Of her hair tickling his bare skin, her breath soft against his neck and one of her arms tossed over his side. His eyes flickered open and he looked down. Sometime during the wee morning hours, after he managed to slip off to sleep, Sam had come out into the living room and found him there and managed to squeeze herself beside him on the couch. His back was pressed up against the back of the sofa as they lay chest to chest. There was no room for error and she was dangerously close to toppling over the edge of the couch.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, readjusted the blanket and gathered her into his arms. Holding her securely and protectively. And lovingly.

She sighed heavily and mumbled incoherently in her sleep. Nuzzling his neck with her nose.

He cast a glance at the clock on the DVD player across the room. A few minutes shy of nine. He had set the alarm on his phone for nine exactly. Giving him enough time to get the hell out of there and home to finish off some of his paperwork before going in for the afternoon shift. He had been determined to himself the heart ache of being dumped on his ass. Only now it looked as if he wasn't going anywhere with that warm and welcoming body damn near cemented to his.

And truth was, he didn't want to go anywhere. Ever.

He closed his eyes and settled comfortably in her embrace. Relaxed by the scent of her hair and the feel of her skin. In the soft breath that tickled his neck and the way her eyelashes fluttered against his skin. He had just managed to doze off, feeling secure in himself and in her, when the alarm on his phone sounded. A dreadful, annoying and insisted beeping noise that filled the entire apartment.

He attempted to reach over her and grab the phone. But that attempt prove futile. The only thing that would result in that was either her, or the both of them, ending them up on the floor.

Sam's eyes snapped open as the beeping continued and without a word, rolled over onto her opposite side, snagged the phone and turned the alarm off. Then simply rolled back over and cuddled against him once again.

"You awake?" he asked after several minutes.

She nodded.

"There's still some time before you have to get up for work," he told her. "Why don't you go back to bed where it's more comfortable."

She shook her head. "I'm fine here."

"This couch isn't made me for one person to sleep on let alone two," he said.

"I am perfectly fine here," she insisted. "I don't want to go anywhere. Do you?"

"I don't ever want to go anywhere," Flack told her. "This is perfect the way it is. Just me and you."

She smiled against his neck. "I'm sorry, Donnie," she said. "I never meant to…"

"I don't want to talk about it," he responded. "There's nothing more to talk about. I was wrong for going off on you like I did. I never should have freaked on you like that. It's just sometimes I don't know if you're on the same page as I am when it comes to this relationship."

"We are on the same page," she assured him. "I do want to get married and I do want to have children. And I want to do all of that with you. I just can't do it right now."

He sighed heavily and stroked her hair. "I can live with that," he said. "I just don't want to have to live with that for too long."

"A few months," she pleaded. "Several at the most. Come back and ask me again in the fall and you'll get an entirely different answer, I promise you."

He nodded. Relegating himself to the fact that her decision was permanent. She wasn't going to be changing her mind any time soon. "I'm going to take you up on that you know," he told her "I'm going to come back and ask you exactly a year to the day that I showed up at your place that night. When you chased me down in the rain. I am going to specifically wait for that day and come back and ask you to marry me again."

"And I will say yes," she promised. "I just can't say yes right now."

"That's fine," he said, and kissed the top of her head.

"I never wanted us to fight," she whispered.

"Neither did I. Just it hurt to hear the things you were saying. And when I get hurt I get defensive. And when I get defensive I say things to hurt the other person. And unfortunately that other person was you."

She drew back to look up at him. "I'm glad you didn't leave," she said.

"I couldn't leave. I tried. I was out in the hallway with the key in the door and I couldn't bring myself to walk away from you. Because walking away from you hurts more then anything else ever possibly could. And I couldn't leave you while you were so upset. In case you needed me."

"I did need you," she told him.

He kissed her softly. "I checked on you a couple times. To make sure you were okay. I didn't think you'd want me in there with you."

"Don't ever think that," she said and tucked her head under his chin. "I'll always want you in our bed with me."

He smiled. "I like hearing you say that. Our bed."

"It's what it is. It has been since that first night you stayed over. And now that we've made love, it's even more so our bed."

"I never realized you were such a sappy little thing, Ross," he said with a chuckle.

"Well what can I say? You and Danny are rubbing off on me. And Danny is the king of sap."

Flack nodded in agreement. "And about that moving in thing…"

"I was thinking that I could grab a Times on my break and look for places that would be good for us," she said, cutting him off. "With enough space for the two of us. And all my crap."

"I don't want you to feel that…"

"I don't feel anything. I just know that I don't want to be without you and that living together is a step I am more than willing to make."

He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Let's try and find something in lower Manhattan, okay? 'Cause the thought of commuting from another borough…"

"Sucks," she finished for him and giggled. "I will pick some places out and we can go and look at them first chance we get. Sound good?"

He nodded. "Sounds like a plan," he said.

She yawned noisily and ran her hand up his side and back down again before sliding it around his back, "It's nice and warm in here," she said.

"Under this blanket it is. The rest of this place is like a goddamn ice box. You need to get the hell out of here. Into something with better heating."

"Oh I don't know," she said, her lips on the hallow of his throat, her foot sliding slowly up his leg. "The heat seems perfectly fine to me at the moment."

"You know what I meant," he told her, shivering as her fingertips trailed up his spine.

"Mm-hm," she said, her lips gently suckling on his neck. "But if you ask me, body heat is the best heat of them all."

"Well I'm not going to argue about that," he said, his hand trailing up her silky thigh that was draped over his leg and disappearing underneath the skirt of the Tinkerbell costume that she had fallen asleep in. "You're still wearing that thing?" he asked, his fingertips grazing over her soft skin.

She nodded and drew back to look at him.

He kissed her. Long and deep. "Maybe we should get that off of you," he suggested.

She bit her lip and nodded again and shifted her position in order to wriggle out of the skimpy costume.

He covered her mouth in an intense kiss as he moved his weight over top of her. Propping himself on one arm, their lips still joined as his hand explored her supple body. Feeling the goosebumps that pricked up on her pale skin as his fingers trailed over her flat stomach and up to the valley between her breasts. His forehead against hers, hearing the hitch in her breath as his palm softly grazed over her already erect nipple before taking it between his fingers and pinching lightly.

She shifted slightly underneath him. Her legs opening, her hands pushing down his boxer shorts.

"Sammie…we gotta stop for a second…" he whispered, shuddering as her hand closed around his aching cock

"Why?" she asked. "Don't you want to?"

"Of course I want to. Doesn't it feel like I want to?"

She nodded, her eyes locked on his as the tip of her thumb brushed against the tip of his erection. Smiling victoriously at the moan she illicited from him.

"It's just…we don't…I don't…have a condom out here…"

"You don't need one," she assured him.

"I haven't gotten my bloodwork done yet and I…"

She raised her head and kissed him to silence him. "I trust you," she said.

"I mean, I know I'm clean. I know I don't have anything. But I thought that maybe having a paper that said that would make you feel better and you'd…"

She kissed him again. "I. Trust. You," she repeated, stressing each word.

He smiled and captured her lips in a sultry kiss. Easing into her warm, moist body. Feeling and hearing her moan against his lips. Aware of her nails digging into the flesh of his hips. He groaned at the sensation of being inside of her and at the slight pain she was inflicting on him as the nails of one hand dragged across the small of his back while the nails of the other trailed down his arm. Travelling to his wrist. He caught her hand in his and entwined their fingers together tightly, holding her hand above her head as he moved in and out of her slowly and lovingly.

Relishing the feel of her legs circling around his waist and the sound of his name on her lips.

She was his heart and his soul. His love.

His precious eternity.


Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you!!! Even the lurkers! But please, please, please leave a review under my tree folks!

Special thanks to the 'elves' from last chapter:

Laurzz

muchmadness

Laplandgurl

Twinkeyrocks

Afrozenheart412

Wolfeylady

Bluehaven4220

Soccer-bitch

SpankyMcDoogleFace

Samantha778

MonzaBird