Very early, next morning - Friday, 21st October
When she wakes up, she finds herself utterly surrounded by him. His arms are wrapped around her, anchoring her against his body, her head resting against his chest where she can hear his heart beating steadily. Her legs are tangled with his under the covers and she can feel his belly press against hers with every breath he takes. His breathing is deep and even and she comes to the conclusion that he must still be sleeping. She almost sighs in relief at this realisation, letting go of the tension in her body and relaxing against him. She opens her eyes to discover that the room is dark, save for the warm glow coming from the ambers of the fire. It's night time then, she thinks before turning her attention back to Harry and the feel of his body against hers. It's quite the most wonderful feeling she's ever experienced she decides, closing her eyes again in bliss. She knows she should move away from him before he wakes up to find them in this utterly unprofessional embrace, but she can't quite bring herself to end it yet; she's enjoying it far too much. Just a few more minutes, she thinks dreamily.
When next she wakes up, she can feel that something's different. Harry's definitely awake; he's still breathing deeply, but there's a tension in him that wasn't there before. Endeavouring to keep her breathing deep and even too, she contemplates what she should do. He certainly doesn't seem in any hurry to extract himself from her embrace. If anything, he seems keen to prolong it as much as possible, otherwise he would have released her already. It would be easy enough to do by pretending to roll over in his sleep. But what does it mean, she wonders. Is it just Harry trying to be a gentleman and not disturb her sleep? Is it the irresistible pull of another warm body on a man who spends so many nights alone? Is it about desire and sex, or just comfort and warmth? Would he be doing the same thing if he'd been sharing this bed with Zoe, Sam or Fiona? Or is it because it's her, Ruth? She's not sure, and that worries her. Yet what worries her even more is that this last realisation isn't enough to make her want to extract herself from his embrace. She'd choose to go on pretending she's asleep and stay here with Harry forever if it were physically possible. He feels so good, so warm, cuddly and strong. Soon she finds that her insides have begun to burn with a desire so powerful that her heart is beating wildly and she's hard pressed to keep her breathing even. 'Time to wake up and go take a cold shower, Ruth,' she tells herself sternly.
She intends to roll away from him, stretch and pretend to be waking up, but her somewhat addled mind gets the order all mixed up and she finds herself arching her back to stretch before she's moved away... And that is their undoing. She hears him gasp as her pelvis presses against him, trapping his erection, that he's managed to successfully hide so well, between their bodies and causing her eyes to fly open and meet his as she moves her shoulders and head back. His gaze is smouldering hot, his hazel eyes liquid pools of desire and need, mirroring her own, and before she's aware of any conscious decision on her part to move, they're entangled in the most passionate, satisfying, intimate, soul-wrenching kiss she's ever known. His hands are everywhere and she can feel her body burn as they slide over her skin, pushing under her clothes to reach her as her hands do the same, needing to feel him and pull him closer, as close as they can possibly be.
Her first orgasm overtakes her the moment his fingers slip into her pyjamas and find her clit, vibrating against it expertly and sending her into a spiral of heart-stopping bliss, and it's only after she comes back to herself that she realises that the deep moans of pleasure she heard came from her own throat. She opens her eyes to find him watching her, his eyes alight with joy, lust and something else, something elusive. "Harry," she whispers, smiling up at him adoringly even as she tries to get a grip on her emotions and rebuild the walls around her heart that he's blown apart with so much ease. But the attempt is futile and she knows that she's left herself wide open and fears that he can read her like an open book.
He smiles softly at her, lifting his hand to cup her face as he sighs, "Oh, Ruth," and leans down to kiss her, a gentle, sweet, exquisitely tender kiss that brings tears to her eyes. She can't stand this, she's not ready for it, this tenderness that gives the illusion of love and all she's ever craved with him. So she pulls him closer, pushing down on the waistband of his borrowed pyjamas as she deepens the kiss, seeking to reignite the lust between them.
Soon they've managed to remove all their clothes, their lips and hands sucking and groping at each other in desperate need. She grasps his cock in her fist, marvelling at how thick and rigid he is as she hears his groan of approval and feels his fingers slip inside her. She gasps in pleasure, gripping him more tightly and sliding her hand along him as she bucks beneath him, and whimpering when he pulls his fingers away again, wrapping them around her wrist and tugging her hand away from him. Next moment he's hovering over her, his pelvis pushing her legs further apart as he slips between them and gently pushes into her. She arches her back to meet him, moaning again as he stretches her deliciously.
"Ruth," he murmurs her name as he fills her, "look at me, Ruth." So she complies, opening her eyes to stare into his that are brimming with so many different emotions that she can't distinguish one from the other. She's never seen his eyes this open before, reflecting his thoughts and feelings so clearly, and can't help but drink him in, storing away this image in her heart for safe keeping.
"Harry," she murmurs his name and lifts one hand to cup his cheek, moved beyond words by the trust he's showing her in this moment. He smiles softly at her and opens his mouth to say something, but the emotions are too much for her to deal with again, so she slips her hand behind his neck and pulls him down for a deep kiss that, she hopes, says it all.
They don't last long, coming within seconds of each other as they pant and gasp in unison, their heads side by side, listening to each other's groans of pleasure as they shudder in ecstasy. He pulls her close, lifting his head to press his lips against hers softly before he rolls onto his side and rests his head on his pillow, his eyes closing with a sigh of heartfelt contentment. She smiles as she watches him for a few moments, letting her eyes roam over his face from his full lips up to his still bandaged head, unable to quite believe what's just happened and yet knowing that she wouldn't trade this moment, this feeling inside her for anything in the world, no matter what happens later, or tomorrow, or once they get back to work.
The thought of work and everything that's happened recently serves to bring her back down to reality with an unpleasant bump and it is with a sinking feeling in her stomach that she turns her head to look up at the ceiling. Her legs are still tangled with his under the covers, her left shoulder and arm resting against his chest, and they bring her comfort as she worries about it all. Logically, she knows that, despite what's happened between them and how much it felt like they were making love rather than the adrenaline fuelled fuck she would have foreseen under the circumstances, she can't expect it to lead to anything more. Their lives are such and their work is such that a relationship between them has always seemed like a bad idea to her and something unlikely to last, even though in her private fantasies she's often indulged in imagining what sharing her life with Harry would look like and how wonderful it would be. But now, after experiencing the incredible perfection of the way their bodies fit together and the close connection she felt to him just now, she finds herself wondering if it would be such a bad thing to try to build a future for them together.
She bites her bottom lip as she realises that she's running away with herself, something she's promised herself never to do again. She knows from bitter experience that what might feel like an intimate connection to her doesn't necessarily feel that way to a man, especially, she reminds herself sternly, to a man who lies and cheats for a living like Harry. She knows she has a tendency to always think of him as decent and honourable, to romanticise him to some extent, even though a lot of his actions suggest that he's anything but. And if she's brutally honest with herself, she can't put it past him to seduce her, to play her and use her like an asset. Perhaps he's already regretting what's happened between them and will try to blame it on the adrenaline and the heat of the moment come morning.
"A pound for them," he murmurs softly, startling her a little as she hadn't realised he'd woken, so caught up was she in her worries.
She smiles as she registers his words despite the turmoil in her heart and turns her head to look at him. "A whole pound! No one's ever offered me that much money for my thoughts before, Harry."
"Nonsense, Ruth," he objects. "You get paid much more than a pound for your thoughts at work."
"I don't know, Harry," she replies. "Do you even know how much I get paid?"
"Nowhere near enough," he smiles.
"Sounds about right," she sighs and turns her head away from him to watch the fire's ambers that cast a warm glow around the room which is still shrouded in darkness though she detects a hint of daylight beginning to filter through the window now. It'll be dawn soon.
There's silence for a few moments before he says, "You looked troubled just now. What's worrying you, Ruth? Is it this - what's happened between us?"
"Yes," she admits quietly, bracing herself for his reaction, the excuses she half-expects to hear, determining to be strong, a good spook, and take it all in stride with good grace.
"Would you care to elaborate? I thought it was... quite wonderful and it's something I would very much like to repeat... frequently," he murmurs when she shows no indication of continuing.
She turns to look at him at that, and seeing the sincerity in his gaze, she smiles, reaching her hand up to cup his cheek as she attempts to push down the relief and the hope that floods her heart, fearing to trust in it yet. "I'm sorry. I don't mean that I regret it. I've wanted this... you for ages, Harry, and to tell the truth, it was... bloody fantastic." He grins with delight at her words, and she can practically see his heart swelling with pride and pleasure. Then she plucks up her courage and adds, "I was just expecting you to..." but it fails her half way through the sentence and she falls silent.
"To what?" he asks, scanning her face with his warm, intelligent eyes. "To make up some excuse about why this happened and why it can never happen again?" She nods, feeling tears spring to her eyes as he sighs and lifts himself onto his right elbow so he can see her more clearly. "Ruth," he begins but then pauses, to gather his thoughts. "I'm not a complete cad. At least, I'm not any more. I won't insult your intelligence by claiming that I haven't seduced and used women in the past, but... I haven't been that man in over a decade now, and I'd like to think that I've learnt something in my fifty odd years of life and that I've changed... for the better." He smiles down at her and adds, "What's happened here is something I have thought about and longed for... oh, for years, Ruth... possibly my entire life." She frowns in puzzlement at his words, but he ploughs on, "And though I've tried to fight against it, now that I've had a taste of it... us... together... I don't want to let it go. I don't want this to be a... one off, Ruth. I'd like to take you out, to date you. I'd like a relationship with you if... if that's what you want too."
She nods, unable to speak from emotion and turns her face towards his chest, burying it against him. She feels him lie down beside her and pull her close, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her hair as she fights to contain her emotions that want to spill out as tears of relief and happiness.