Author's Note—Almost there. Just a chapter or two left, and god willing it will be done before iLoVeRynMar's birthday. Haha. It has to…because I have something in the works for her bday this year.

All mistakes are mine, more so than usual probably, since I don't get to show this to El as I go along. But I can still thank her for the 1000 things she does for me, and for her love and support and friendship. ILY.

~*~Chapter 10~*~

~Peeta~

Katniss stares down at the condom in her hand, suddenly reluctant to meet my eyes. I don't know if she's embarrassed about the whole situation, but I know I need to react quickly to prevent her from rebuilding that wall we've knocked down tonight.

"Hey," I say softly, taking the condom back. "Don't worry about this." I toss it on her nightstand and pull her down to me. "It's not a big deal at all."

"Apparently it is," she mumbles, and I can't help but laugh.

"It's not, I promise. It's just far more comfortable for me to have one that's the right fit." I nudge her chin up with my nose and lay a trail of kisses along her neck, skirting the curve of her jawline. She gives a little mewling sound and starts to straddle me. Gently, I grip her shoulders and raise her off me enough that she looks down, directly into my eyes. God, she's so fucking beautiful I'm tempted to grab that stupid condom and just deal with it.

She begins, "I can see if my roommate—." I lay a finger over her lips, silencing her.

"Let's get dressed and we'll go back to my place. We'll make dinner and then we can pick up where we left off. I have condoms there. Does that sound good?"

I get no response out of her—not at first. Then, something faint flickers in those stormy grey eyes and she slides her hands down my arms, pausing to grip my biceps. She molds her mouth to mine in a short, searing kiss, her tongue darting out at the very end. She eases back, and lowers her mouth to my chest. Her tongue flattens one of my nipples. She traces circles around it slowly and then she tugs at it with her teeth. Heat floods my groin and my dick stiffens even more. She continues her descent, nipping a path down my stomach. I draw in sharp breaths with each quick nick of her teeth.

"Katniss?" I question. Her nipples brush my thighs as her fingers walk down the trail of hair beneath my navel and ghost along my cock. It strains upward, pleading for her touch.

"If we're going to wait to have sex until later, there's no good reason why I can't do this now, is there?" Her palm wraps around my shaft and squeezes it tentatively. She makes a satisfied little sound and squeezes again. My whole body tenses with anticipation when she gives me a smile that's somehow shy and wicked at the same time. She braces her other hand next to my thigh and runs her tongue up the underside of my cock.

"Oh, fuck, Katniss," I moan, fighting the instinct to close my eyes, because I want to watch her as she goes down on me. She licks me again, swirling her tongue around the head of my shaft. Her long hair spills over her shoulders and falls into her face. Reaching down, I root my fingers into the loose tresses and gather it back for her as her warm, wet mouth engulfs me. She takes me in and out several times, as much as she can, and she keeps stealing expectant glances at me, as if seeking my approval. I try to smile at her through the bliss that I know contorts my face. She palms my balls and hollows her cheeks, sucking me harder. My jaw drops and my smile goes with it. A sound I didn't know I was capable of making sticks in my throat.

She springs back, my cock slapping back against my stomach, her drugged eyes going wide. "What? Did I do something wrong?" she asks. The expression on her face makes my chest tighten and my heart clench. She looks unsure of herself, vulnerable—a far cry from the self-assured, independent cop who sits across from me at work. I reach for her cheek and caress her soft skin.

"Fuck no! Exactly the opposite." I've had my share of blowjobs—but being blown by Katniss Everdeen is easily the best fucking feeling in the free world. Her mouth hitches up slightly, a pleased smile gracing her swollen lips. She grips me and sucks me back into her mouth. I finally close my eyes and give myself over to the indescribable ecstasy coursing through me. I make damn sure to let her know just how much I love what she's doing to me. Her tongue and mouth grow more confident and she sets a rhythm of sliding her lips up my shaft and using just the tip of her tongue to trace the ridge below the head of my cock and then gliding back down. She has to stop several times and use her hand to keep pumping me, but I don't give a shit how she gets me off. Everything she's doing feels so incredibly good; I'm not sure how I last as long as I do.

I try to hold off even longer, not wanting her to ever stop, but that tingling spreads through my balls and into the base of my cock. My shaft stiffens and just before the rush of heat shoots upward, I gently shove her shoulder back. As much as I'd love to empty myself in her mouth, I don't know if she's okay with swallowing and I can't form a coherent thought in order to ask her.

She gets the message and releases me from her mouth but quickly covers my pulsing cock with her hand. Wide-eyed, she watches me spurt between her fingers and onto my belly. Her teeth snare her lower lip. Her chest heaves, and I notice her nipples are hard again.

"That was fucking amazing," I praise her. My body continues to swim through the aftereffects of my orgasm, but I tense my abs and manage to raise myself enough to pry her lip loose from her teeth and run my tongue along it before slipping it inside her mouth. She kisses me back, nearly knocking me off balance as she sucks on my tongue eagerly.

"Hold on," I pant, as she attempts to straddle me again. "Hold on. We should clean this up," I gesture to the mess on my stomach, "before it gets all over you."

"Maybe I want you all over me," she whispers, taking my lower lip between hers. She runs her tongue along the inside of it. Groaning, I frame her jaw and crush her mouth to mine. Fuck, at this rate we're never getting back to my apartment.

~*~Katniss~*~

As Peeta's mouth possesses mine, the heat flares between my legs again. I want so badly to be reckless and to just let him plunge inside me. Reluctantly, I draw back, taking his lower lip with me, giving it a soft nip. He responds with one of those sexy growls and nuzzles my neck.

"I should go get cleaned up," he says. The husky timbre of his voice makes me want to take his cock back in my mouth and blow him all over again. He brushes his lips against mine and carefully extricates himself from beneath me, keeping his one hand splayed across his stomach. "Bathroom?"

"Right across the hall," I reply. He smiles and walks towards the door, giving me a chance to drink in the sight of his perfectly toned ass. My thighs clench and I sigh, looking up to the ceiling as I gather my thoughts and rein in my libido. It's a foreign feeling for me, to want someone as much as I want Peeta and to be having such strong sexual urges. I'm trying my damndest not to let it overwhelm me.

I locate another bra and pair of panties—not as sexy as the ones I had on before. I guess my lingerie collection needs overhauling. I grab a pair of yoga pants and a thin long-sleeved t-shirt that both hug all the right places. I don't think Peeta will mind if I go casual, since I imagine he'll want whatever I put on off of me as soon as possible.

I've just brought the shirt down over my breasts when Peeta saunters back into the bedroom. He's still naked, which doesn't seem to faze him in the slightest. He walks with unabashed confidence to collect his boxer-briefs, which lie on the floor near my closet.

"This okay?" I gesture to my outfit. He steps into his shorts, his eyes roaming up the length of my body as he adjusts the tight fabric over his groin. My gaze flickers towards the outline of his cock.

He steps towards me and skims one hand up my left arm, his fingers rubbing the silky material of my shirt.

"It's definitely okay. You look hot in everything you wear." When I duck my head at his compliment, he lifts my chin and his blue eyes bore into me. "I'm serious, Katniss. Do you know how many times you've been sitting across from me at your desk and I've gotten hard just thinking about unbuttoning those sexy button-down shirts you wear? And it's damn near torture keeping my hands to myself with how good your tight little ass looks in your pants." For emphasis, he slides his arm around my waist and slowly works his hand down my tailbone, cupping one cheek and squeezing.

"And then when I saw you in that dress, on the night our date was interrupted…I mean, fuck, there I was, trying to be a gentleman, and I was most definitely not having pure thoughts about the things I wanted to do to you."

I can feel my body responding to his words, rekindling the fire that had been brought under control when he suggested we get dressed. Before I can let the flames consume me and I do something irrational, I offer to retrieve his clothes from the living room. He molds his palm to my cheek and tells me he can redress out there. He grazes my nose with a gentle brush from his, kisses my forehead, and then he walks out of the room. The sweet intimacy of his touches makes me light-headed. I jam my feet into a pair of athletic socks and shove them into my sneakers before returning to the living room.

Peeta has the roof down on his Z4, causing the wind to tousle his hair and send my long locks whipping around until I secure them with an elastic. Occasionally he steals a glance at me, flashing me that innately seductive grin, and his hand comes to rest high on my thigh, his fingers gently massaging me. I lay my hand atop his, enjoying the warmth of his skin against my palm.

He turns down a narrow alley beside a long-term parking lot. As he navigates his car into a small alcove just behind the lot he stops about half backed into the space. My brows draw as he shifts the gear into park and exits the car, coming around to my side. He opens my door and gestures for me to climb out.

"Wait here," he whispers, kissing my nose. He slides back into the driver's seat and finishes backing in. He puts up the roof and the windows and when the car is situated, he steps out and locks it. His handsome face is apologetic when he slides his arm around my waist.

"Sorry. It's silly, I know."

I nod towards the lot. "You don't just park the car there?"

His fingers caress my hip lightly as he leads me a little way up the alley. Then he pauses and motions for me to look back. I can no longer see his car in the alcove.

"Guy who maintains the lot rents me that space. Keeps my car safer than being exposed in the lot." His voice drops an octave and his breath tickles my neck as he murmurs into my ear, "I protect the things I care about."

Peeta's building is nicer than the one Madge and I live in. He explains that it once belonged to an eccentric millionaire and after his death it was subdivided into six apartments. He leads me up the single flight of stairs to the second floor. Before he even fits the lock into the deadbolt, excited whimpers drift from under the door, followed by a steady thumping.

"Okay, Ils, hold tight." He chuckles and opens the door. Just a few inches from the doorway, sitting patiently though her tail wags frenetically, is his Lab. She obediently waits for Peeta to acknowledge her and then bounds forward. He kneels down and rubs her ears. In response she laves his face with wet kisses. My heart melts like warmed butter.

"How's my girl?" he murmurs, holding her face away from his. I swear the dog looks like she's grinning as her tail whips back and forth on the hardwood floor. "You remember Katniss?" he asks the dog as he raises his eyes to meet mine. My lips twitch in my effort to keep my smile measured.

"Hi, Ilsa," I coo, squatting down next to Peeta. I gently offer her my hand and she nudges her muzzle into it. Her cold nose is a shock against my palm at first, but when I glance over at Peeta and see the way he's looking at me, it sends a flurry of heat through my limbs, right down to my toes. For a second, I think he's going to close the space between us and kiss me. But he straightens up and so do I.

"Let me take her out, and then I'll go change and we can figure out dinner, okay?" he says. He reaches for a leash that hangs on a wrought iron hook next to the door.

"Why don't you change first, and we can take her for a walk," I suggest. "Together," I add, in case that wasn't clear. I can see by the expression on Peeta's face that he likes my idea. Unfortunately, my traitorous stomach picks that exact moment to assert itself, rumbling audibly. Before he can tease me about it, I assure him that I'm not so hungry that it can't wait. He grins at me, and tells me that he'll be right back.

I look around Peeta's apartment, Ilsa at my feet, shadowing me as I take in the open floor plan. It's unique for an apartment, more like a spacious loft, and in fact there is a flight of stairs leading up to a little study of some sort. His kitchen is large and modern. I remember how much he said he enjoys cooking.

"Ready?" His voice is so close that it startles me, and I spin around, nearly colliding with him. My eyes subconsciously drift to his chest, as the Under Amour tee that he wears intimates every cut line beneath that clingy fabric. As my gaze treks back up, I see his throat bob and his jaw flex. I silently plea with my body to keep things in check, but I can feel desire stirring in my stomach.

"Y-yeah."

He smiles down at me and catches my lips in a short sweet kiss. "Let's go for a walk, then."

~*~Peeta~*~

Ilsa is more excitable than usual as we set off on her favorite route. I strain against her leash and have to sternly order her to heel several times before she calms and settles into a spirited trot. Her behavior seems to amuse Katniss, and seeing the genuine smile on her face makes me want to link my fingers with hers. Holding hands as we walk my dog might be a bit too domestic, though. We may be more than ready to give in to our lust for each other, but something tells me she's far from ready to play house with me.

"There's a good Thai-French restaurant just a few blocks off the path Ilsa and I usually walk. We could pick it up and bring it back?" I flash her an apologetic smile. "I know it's not the gourmet meal I had wanted to prepare for you—"

"You have bread?" she asks.

"Uh, yeah." I nod, surprised by her question.

"Eggs?"

"Yes." I always keep eggs in the house. Ilsa gets them in her dinner occasionally. They're good for her coat.

"We can make breakfast for dinner," she suggests with a hesitance to her voice. "It's not gourmet either, but it would be nice to make something. Together."

Warmth suffuses my chest, and something in my pulse quickens at the imagined vision of cooking with Katniss. Maybe she isn't opposed to domestic. I shift Ilsa's leash to my left hand and boldly reach for Katniss's hand, interlacing our fingers.

"I love that idea," I say, hearing a gravelly inflection in my own voice. Katniss's mouth toys with a smile and her eyes dart down to our joined hands.

We stroll in companionable silence for the first half-mile or so. Katniss offers to take the leash when Ilsa does her thing and I have to clean up after her. Once I've disposed of the bag, I motion for the leash.

"Do you mind," she asks, almost shyly, "if I walk her for a bit?"

I grin. Ilsa can be strong, particularly if she spies a squirrel or one of her walking buddies, but I don't dare suggest that Katniss can't handle her. I acquiesce and let her keep the leash, but I seize her hand again. She doesn't resist.

As we continue on, I can't stop stealing glimpses at the contented look on Katniss's face. She's perfectly at ease walking Ilsa. When I tell her so, her smile fades, becoming rueful, and I brace myself for her to shut down.

"Prim wanted a dog so badly when we were younger, but she was allergic." She gives a short little laugh. "I did a four-page research report on hypoallergenic breeds of dogs and shots for pet allergies and left my A+ paper on my parents' bed. But I really think my mother just didn't want a dog and Prim's allergies were a convenient excuse. My parents eventually caved and let her keep this mangy cat she found in our garden one day, because for whatever reason the cat's fur didn't affect Prim the same as dog fur. And then, once Prim was gone…" Her voice gets distant. "I took care of that dumb cat until it passed away. I didn't think about dogs again until I got to the academy and did some work with a K-9 unit."

I squeeze her hand to let her know I appreciate her opening up to me. I decide to match her confession with one of my own.

"The airfield where I took you for our first date? It's where I took commercial flying lessons."

"You're a pilot?" she exclaims.

"Not quite. I didn't enjoy it. My grandfather owned that airport. My mother's father. She was hell-bent on one of us—my brothers and me—becoming a pilot. It didn't interest either of them. I knew the pressure was on me. I tried. I did. But it was my grandfather who encouraged me to ignore my mother and follow my heart to become a cop. He and I would spend hours together at that airfield when I was supposed to be logging my hours, talking, playing cards, watching the clouds.

"After he died, I kept going there. I liked the solitude. I liked watching the beauty of the planes as they took off or landed. I just didn't want to be the one flying them."

"Who owns it now?" she asks quietly. By the expressive look in her grey eyes, I suspect she already knows the answer.

"I do," I say.

"You are full of surprises, Peeta Mellark." She shakes her head.

"It's not something I broadcast to people. I get enough shit for my fancy car."

"Thank you for telling me," she says softly. I have half a mind to order Ilsa to sit so I can sweep Katniss into my arms and kiss her right here in the middle of the park. But my track pants do a lousy job disguising hard-ons, and even the most innocent touch of her lips to mine does things to me.

Instead, I lengthen our strides. If Katniss notices, she doesn't say a word. She keeps pace with me, and five minutes later, we're back at my apartment. Ilsa does her usual post-walk routine: drinks half the water in her dish and then collapses in front of my chair.

I remove two bottles of water from the fridge and turn to hand one to Katniss. My breath catches in my throat when I feel her lithe body press against mine and my back hits the refrigerator door. Her hand coasts down my side, snaking beneath my shirt, as her lips seize mine. My dick stirs to life.

"Does this mean dinner will have to wait a little longer?" I pant when the deep, drugging kiss finally necessitates us breaking for air. Her fingers fist the hem of my shirt, yanking it up over my head. She crouches down slightly and flicks her tongue over one of my nipples. Her dark eyes are half-shuttered when she looks up at me.

"I want you. Please don't make me wait anymore." The heady lust clouding her voice snaps whatever threads of self-restraint I have left.

"Like I could say no to you," I whisper. She gasps when I slide my hands to cup her ass and hoist her up into my arms. She wraps her legs around my thighs and her fingertips bite into my shoulders. I attach my mouth to her neck and feel the throb of her pulse beneath my tongue. My legs can't carry us fast enough.

I kick the door shut behind us. Ilsa is usually out like a light for a good hour after a walk, but I won't take any chances. No more interruptions. I set Katniss down and she immediately toes off her sneakers and bends to remove her socks. I do the same. Before I can ask if I can undress her, she whips off her shirt and tosses it aside.

"Slow down," I say, stepping towards her. I slide my hands around her waist and up her back, covering her hands where they hover on the clasp of her bra. "Slow." I drop my mouth to suckle on her collarbone. "Down." My lips skate to the hollow of her throat. I pluck her fingers away from her bra's clasp and continue to kiss her neck.

Her hands immediately shift to my stomach, her fingers trekking along my abdominals, as I unhook her bra and drag it down her arms. She pauses with her touches momentarily to allow the bra to fall away. My balls tighten and prickle with heat as I watch her nipples harden. We lock eyes and I can see my desire for her reflected in her smoldering grey irises.

She shimmies her yoga pants and panties down her narrow hips as I yank off my track pants and briefs. She crawls up my bed and I have to suck in a deep gulp of air at the sight of her sprawled naked on my sheets. I can't even be embarrassed that I hadn't bothered to make my bed that morning before work, a minor consequence of my bad mood. A grin lifts my mouth. How much things can change in the course of a day.

"What?" she asks, arching her back as I kneel astride her.

"I was just thinking." I skim one hand up her toned leg, relishing the way she shivers from my touch.

"Thinking about what?"

"About you. Here. With me. Like this." I swirl my tongue over her nipple. She moans and bows her back, seeking more contact with my mouth. Blowing gently, I send a light breath ghosting over the tight bud, and feel her squirm beneath me. "How last night at this time I could have only dreamed about this happening."

"Peeta," she whimpers, her arms restlessly fidgeting at her side. I bring them up above her head and hold them there, licking my lips before turning my attention back to her gorgeous tits. As I suck her nipple into my mouth, she moans and her hips undulate. I wedge my other hand between her legs and my cock surges when my fingers dip into her. She's so wet and ready for me.

"You're soaked, sweetheart." I gently push one finger just an inch or so inside her and draw out more of her arousal, circling her clit. She makes a little noise and her head sinks deeper into the pillow. She opens her eyes and her lips quiver.

"Peeta, please," she whispers. "I want you inside me." I lean down and kiss her gently, then grab a condom from my drawer. She doesn't blink as I tear open the package. I start to unroll the condom over my erection, but I stop when I feel her hand stroke mine. My eyes lock on her, but her eyes never leave my dick, fascination seeping into those dark grey irises as together we sheath my cock with the condom.

"So, that one fits?" she asks, finally glancing up at me.

I laugh and adjust myself a little. "Yeah, perfectly."

"You'll, um, have to show me which ones to get…since, um, this isn't a one-night thing, right?"

Fuck yes.

"Right." I bring one finger up to trace the lush bow of her mouth. Her lips are so soft against my calloused finger. The tip of her tongue flicks out and I slide my finger forward slightly, pulling downward, and run it along the curve of her inner lip. She makes a little noise that goes straight to my cock, and then her lips close around my finger. She sucks on it, holding me captive with those luminous grey eyes. God, she has no idea the effect she has on me. How utterly sexy she is.

I brace my weight on my left arm and reluctantly let my finger slip from her mouth so I can reach down between our bodies. I hear her breath catch as I take my cock in my hand and rub the head against her clit. My name leaves her lips on a plea. Locking my gaze on hers, I drive my hips forward and thrust into her.