Cal was really good at kissing. Really good. And he was so very good at playing games with her. They'd had marathon make-out sessions that had completely wound her up while he barely seemed bothered. She should be offended, she knew that, she wanted to be able to drive him wild too, but actually she suspected he was toying with her on purpose in that kind of instance, showing her he wasn't just with her in the moment to get off himself, but to make her feel wonderful, which he did seemingly effortlessly. And she also suspected it was his way of gloating that his self-control was on an impressive level. It was.

His hands were warm at her back, the wide expanse of them obvious through the thin satin of her negligee. She could feel each of his fingers and his palms, a little damp. She was kissing him as she sat across his thighs, his bare chest the perfect resting point for her hands, his skin still warm as they wound down. Gillian worshipped his mouth reverently. She loved him and it made warmth flood through her. It was one thing to work it out, to know, and it was another to admit it to herself, let alone out loud. She loved him.

Cal's hands shifted down a little, further into the small of her back and Gillian shifted her hand to pet at the hair at the base of his skull, where it was soft. She gave a little hum and felt Cal's lips move into a smile. She broke away, smiling down at him herself. He looked slightly up at her, his blue eyes dark in the dim light and with a fading arousal. So many beautiful smiles for her these days and it was so, so nice. Just so content and sweet and... yeah.

"I like this," Cal told her, shifting a hand to the edge of the hem of her negligee, high on her thigh. It was black, satin, lace trim...

Gillian gave a pleased smile, and not just because he was being appreciative, but because he was actually telling her about it. Not a big talker Cal, surprisingly, in the bedroom, or really about other things either, now that she thought about it. They hadn't had deep and meaningful conversations about them or their relationship or where they were headed and a part of her was honestly too afraid to bring it up first. She felt it would be better to let it just run its course. At least for a while. See where it went.

"Yeah?" She leaned in to kiss him again, soft, slow kisses as if she had all the time in the world. It felt like she had all the time in the world with him. Forever. Except she shouldn't think like that. She knew that forever didn't really mean forever. Maybe that was why she didn't want to talk about it, put a label on it, put pressure on it, on them.

"Yeah," Cal agreed.

"Hm," Gillian hummed again, pressing her lips against his.

"You're beautiful Gill," Cal looked up at her again.

She smiled, how could she not? "Thank you." She smoothed the hair at the back of his head again, sliding her fingers around his skull where it was resting against the wall as he sat up against it. She pressed a kiss against his forehead, then his nose, his mouth again. Cal didn't push her away or dismiss her or tell her she was being annoying and it felt so good. So. Damn. Good.

They heard the front door at the same time and Gillian felt a little coldness counter the warmth of sitting in Cal's lap. Emily was home. Which meant that... well they had already had sex but it meant they weren't likely to go again. She was fine with that, she really was, because she'd rather not think about Cal's daughter being able to hear them having sex through the wall. They were quiet as they listened, probably both wondering whether it was Emily who had come in and if she was going straight to bed. Cal shifted slightly to see the clock on his bedside table and his movement suitably dislodged Gillian to slide from sitting on his legs.

Then there was a tentative knock at the door. "Uh Dad?" Emily called, but softly, cautiously.

"Yeah?" Cal yelled back.

"Oh. I'm home!"

"All right. Night luv."

"Night Dad. Love you."

"You too darlin'!"

There was a pause and Cal started to turn so he could lean over Gillian again, that mischievous look in his eye, like he was going to make her squirm but dare her to be quiet about it.

"Good night Gillian!" Emily added.

"Good night," Gillian called back.

Cal watched her face carefully, saw the small amount of pride and happiness at being included. They heard Emily's bedroom door close and she had probably done it on purpose, so they would be aware of where she was in the house. Sometimes she stomped past on her way to the bathroom so they were aware she was skulking about the house. It had taken a wee bit of adjusting for Gillian, not in the sense that it was weird to head into the kitchen for breakfast in the morning and find Emily there, that wasn't weird, it was weird to know she was sleeping in the young woman's father's bed, while the young woman was in the room next to them.

Cal leaned down to press his lips against Gillian's neck and she tilted her head away to give him a bit more room before realising she was encouraging him. "Cal," she warned, bringing a hand to his bare shoulder to push a little. He moved back and watched her, waiting for her to say whatever it was she wanted to say. She liked that he listened. That was nice too. "Don't," she started and he gave a sudden smirk and she gave a little laugh. He knew exactly what she was going to say.

"I know," he murmured. "Don't leave a mark."

"And?" Gillian prompted.

"And keep it tame while Em's in the house," he recited.

Gillian gave him a little pleased laugh. "I've trained you so well," she teased.

Cal hung his head a little. "Slightly beaten down, but not completely whipped yet," he gave her a grin and shifted the hip he was leaning on closer to her. "Not yet," he added before leaning down to give her a kiss.

"You?" Gillian asked, a little breathlessly as he pulled away. "Whipped?" She paused for impact. "Never."