AN: M Chapter

PJ

Gillian pushed her front door closed and kicked off her shoes, they were new and killing her feet. Cal took off his sports coat and hung it on one of the hooks behind her door. It was hot today and it had caught them both by surprise. Cal kicked his own shoes off and removed his socks and before he got much further than that Gillian was stepping forward to start unbuttoning his shirt. She looked up at him and he looked down at her, only a little, because even without heels on they were almost the same height, and then their lips crashed together. Cal felt a surge rocket through him; heat and desire and excitement. Gillian's fingers worked quickly against his buttons and soon she was pushing back the material from his shoulders, letting it hit the floor as they gulped air and pressed against each other and kissed like they hadn't seen each other all day, when in fact, they had spent all day with each other.

Cal responded to the pressure of Gillian's hand against his bare upper arm and turned, taking a blind shuffling step backward. He smoothed his hands down her back and up under her shirt, pushing her towards him as he shuffled down the hall. The first door way he bumped into he turned within. In his mind's eye he figured this was her living room but her hands were on his belt and trousers, alternately diving inside to stroke him and focussing on the catch and he was not entirely paying attention to his surroundings. He had to break away for air, but went for her neck, bringing up his left hand to brush her hair out of the way. He kissed and sucked.

Gillian shoved him a little. "Don't leave a mark," she warned yet again. "Ever."

Cal smirked but would obey; she looked so serious when she said it and she said it a lot. Apparently that was one of her 'things'. He took a step back and bumped into the couch with his Achilles heel. "Ouch," he winced and stepped away but Gillian didn't let him go far; she grabbed his head and brought his lips to meet hers. He caught a glimpse of her flushed cheeks and dark eyes before he closed his own. She pressed against him again, forcing him back and he turned her, aiming for the couch, hoping he had worked out the distance all right in his head. He shifted his hands to her shirt; what the fuck was with all the buttons? There were twice as many as normal. Or something. Torture. There was hardly any distance between their bodies to even give him room to move and she already had him in hand, working him to a sweat, and she would not let his tongue go. Cal wasn't even sure he was breathing anymore and he just wanted her. He grabbed both sides of her shirt and pulled them apart, popping every button off.

Gillian broke away and looked down at her own chest surprised, and then up at him again, an absence of surprise; acceptance. Her lips were swollen and Cal could feel the heat of her skin directly against his now and she was wearing white lace. He was aware of his chest heaving as he struggled for air but Gillian didn't seem to care because she wrapped an arm around his neck again, kissing him so hotly. He pushed forward into her and felt her start to drop back; they must have reached the couch, he hadn't bothered to check. He was wrong. It was the low table in the middle of the room. He felt Gillian drop down and he followed, her hand at the back of his neck keeping him close. He felt her shove the magazines on top of it out of the way, rather than watch, he was busy grazing his teeth against her neck and shoulder, hovering over her. The reading material rustled to the floor and then there was the heavier thud of the pyramid shaped candle that she had never lit but could still smell in the air; raspberries.

Gillian scooted backwards along the surface and Cal opened his eyes to see her holding herself up with her left hand resting against the wood, the other was still around his neck. He placed his hands on his hips, pushing the material of his trousers and underwear down. Gillian licked her lips and looked up at him hungrily and he just about died. He leaned over her quickly and she moved so her back was flat against the wood, her stomach concave as she breathed rapidly, her shoulders lifted so she could still reach him, welcoming him against her body. He felt her parting her legs for him, shifting her hips and he dipped a hand between them, groping for the edge of her underwear. Gillian shivered and let out a little 'oh' and her fingers tightened against the back of his shoulder. She pressed a kiss against the edge of his eye as he pulled her underwear aside, driven by the agony in the pit of his stomach. He wanted her so badly... he wanted her right now and he pushed into her hard and she threw back her head so she was arching up against the table, "Oh!"

Cal moved his hands to either side of her head, looking down at her, needing a second to see around the edge of her heat and the swell of her chest and her body curved for him and then, "Oh fuck Gillian I'm sorry." He dropped his head, tried to pull back with his hips. "I didn't check... I'm sorry."

Gillian pressed her thighs up against either side of his hips. "I was ready in the car on the way home," she murmured, pulling him in to kiss, pushing back with her hips to make him slide against her a little. The both felt the twitch of his pulse deep within her and Gillian groaned loudly. "Go Cal. Fucking go!" She requested, her voice thick with desperation.

Cal pulled back, pivoting on his hands and thrust into her hard. He didn't even hesitate or wait just withdrew and did it again and again and again until his back started to ache and he shifted a hand to grip the edge of the table above her head for more leverage. He worked himself into more of a sweat and Gillian was crying out with every push of their hips, her head turning from side to side, her fingernails clawing into his shoulders and arms and then down into his lower back. "Oh god please! Please!" She begged lifting her head slightly and banging it down against the hard wooden table. "Cal please! Oh Cal!"

He pushed harder, more desperate, wanting to release himself just as badly as he did her. With every thrust she moved up the table a few centimetres until her head was almost hanging off the other end and Cal had to kneel on the table to stay close to her; the hard surface hurt his knees but that didn't slow him down. Gillian lifted her head to press against his shoulder. Cal could feel the tease of lace against his bare chest and it excited him more and more until he felt like he might turn himself inside-out with built up tension. He was at the point where he couldn't hold out anymore. He needed her to go. He felt Gillian's teeth against the crook of his shoulder and finally the quiver of her body as she reached that point too and thank god, he didn't have to hold on anymore. He burst into her for such a long time he was aware of the tail end of his orgasm as he gained his senses again; his breath was loud and ragged and still Gillian clung on to him tightly, gasping and whimpering and shaking.

Cal shifted them down the table a little so Gillian was no longer hanging off the edge and he could put his feet back down on the carpet. Then he unlocked his elbows and lowered both of them to the table gently, and then he dropped against her, his face in her breasts. She shifted a hand limply to the nape of his neck; her skin was hot and damp and he could feel every shaky breath she sucked in. Cal had to turn his head so he didn't suffocate himself and listened to her heart pounding out his name. God that was hot. Some of the hottest sex they'd had ever. In three months of shagging each other stupid, that had to be in the top five.

Seriously.

Cal stayed that way, blanketing her body, for a long time and then the ache of his elbows and legs against the table was too much to ignore. He pushed away from her and she gave him a sharp whimper of displeasure. "I'm sorry," he murmured, hovering. "Did I hurt you?" He had been rather enthusiastic and not exactly thinking about being gentle love making.

"No," she whispered back. She had her eyes closed and her arms fell away to land on the table top where Cal's had been a moment before. Cal pulled his trousers back up to his hips and looked down at her. She just lay there, shirt wide open, skirt up around her pelvis; kind of dirty. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to sit up and she complained again.

"Couch," Cal directed her.

"Carry me."

Cal pulled her closer and leaned down and slung her over his shoulder, a fireman's grip, straightening up as she laughed. He grinned and headed for the couch, turning to drop her on to it. She clung on to him and pulled him down with her, so her legs were wrapped around his hips. Cal's back hit the couch. Gillian turned her body and straightened out her legs and he settled into the gap she had created. They lay together, belly to belly, Gillian resting her head on Cal's upper arm, Cal placing his right hand in the small of her back and putting his head on the arm of the couch, from there he could breathe in the scent of her shampoo easily.

"This was one of my favourite shirts," Gillian told him lightly, letting her fingers smooth over the hair at his navel. She looked up to catch his eye and he saw the smile there.

"Sorry bout that. I'll find all the buttons."

Gillian pressed her lips in the hollow beneath his jaw and gave a 'hmm.' "You know... we really need to... slow it down."

"What?" Cal asked alarmed.

Gillian tilted her head back to look up at him. "With all the sex. You're making me sore," she pouted a little.

"Sorry," Cal murmured genuinely and pressed his lips against hers, pushing his hand at her back to make her rest against him. He had been too rough then.

Gillian turned her head, as if she could see, to look behind her. "My shoulders are going to bruise."

Cal pressed his palm against her gently. "Sorry," he whispered again. Giving her another soft kiss. He should have more presence of mind.

"Not that it's not freaking amazing every time," she went on with a little sigh. "It's just that... we haven't gone twenty-four hours..."

Cal chuckled. "You're keepin' score?"

"You're not?" Gillian retorted.

"I wasn't exactly countin'."

"Neither am I," Gillian said defensively. "But... you don't think it's too much? Look at your shoulder."

Cal turned his head to see. Huge almost pink welts had risen up where her nails had assaulted his skin. He could see red pooling beneath where capillaries had been broken but the skin had not and the blood wasn't able to break through to the surface. Geeze.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Gillian went on and Cal realised she wasn't talking about it being too much for herself, not entirely, but for him. He was pushing his mid-forties.

"You make me feel young again," Cal told her.

She blinked at him, startled.

"I want you more than I've eva wanted anyone in my life," he gave her the sincerest expression he could muster because, really, it was fucking true. He gave her another soft kiss. "God knows how I get any work done."

"I see you looking at me," she responded with a little smile.

Cal felt his stomach quiver.

"Sometimes," she added softly. She looked down and then up and her eyes were heavy with a longing they had only just satisfied. Cal let his eyes rove over face, down to her chest, back up again. It had the desired effect; she shivered and threw herself against him again so he could feel her breasts, still damp with sweat, against his bare chest. "Oh god," she murmured against the side of his head. "I want you all of the time."

Cal grinned.

"You smug bastard."

Cal chuckled.

"Twenty four hours," Gillian suddenly declared. She pulled back to look up at him. She raised her eyebrows as if he were supposed to know what she was talking about. "You stay at your place and I'll stay here and we'll just take twenty-four hours without having sex."

"Do we have to be in separate buildin's for that to happen?" Cal teased.

Gillian smacked his shoulder lightly. "I'm serious."

"I can see but I don't get why."

"Because..."

"Are you afraid our relationship is based entirely on sex?" Cal kissed the edge of her jaw by her ear and she sighed against his. ""Do we need to talk more and share our feelin's? Cos we had years of no-sex, I figa we're just tryin' to make up all that time."

Gillian started to grin and then she frowned and slapped him again. "We were married," she pointed out as if she were aghast.

"Shame it wasn't to each otha," Cal dropped innocently and then watched her face as she tried to figure out what he meant by that and if she should read something in to it and finally she settled on ignoring the comment. Before she could retort though, Cal went on. "Em found your undawear in our wash."

"What?" Gillian's eyes went wide. "You told me you'd intercept it."

"Well I tried and she beat me to it."

"Cal."

"What? She already knows we're datin' I'm sure she can figa out we're sleepin' togetha."

"Well now she knows for sure."

Cal gave a little shrug.

"What did she say?"

"She said 'these aren't mine'."

Gillian slapped his shoulder harder this time and Cal chuckled again. "She said 'you don't have to sneak around, I know you're sleepin' with Gill'." Cal paused. "And then she asked if we were bein' 'safe' and then she said that you should stay ova sometime cos it wasn't a big deal."

"She asked if we were being safe?" Gillian was surprised again. Or mortified. It was hard to tell. "What did you tell her?"

"I said 'fuck no we aren't'."

"Cal!"

"Well that's the truth," Cal pointed out.

Gillian watched him for a moment. "You're right. We're not being 'safe' at all."

Cal raised his eyebrows at her, inviting her to answer his silent question: should we be?

Gillian shook her head a little. "I can't get pregnant if that's what you mean."

"Oh."

"And there was no one between Alec and you. Alec might have been flying high but he didn't cheat."

Seriously, sometimes she really surprised him. She spoke so matter-of-factly about her ex-husband and their marriage and just a few months ago she had spent a lot of time adjusting. He mumbled something about getting himself checked out, which she accepted and that was that. A conversation they should have had months ago.

"You could stay ova," Cal said into the silence.

"I stay over," Gillian pointed out.

"When Em's there," Cal clarified patiently.

"I don't know."

"Why not? You want twenty-four hours sex-free. I don't want twenty-four hours apart. It's win-win." Unless she really was serious about them having to be in other buildings to keep their hands off each other. Which was funny and flattering but he was serious too. He didn't want her to go home alone. He wanted her with him. He should probably be worried about that kind of attitude, but it was the truth and he always had faith in trusting the truth.

Gillian was silent for a moment and Cal closed his eyes turning his cheek against her head. She was still very warm. He waited and after a long moment of quiet, where he could hear his own heart pound in his ear, she said: 'ok'.