- So you always see her...
Who Eames was talking about.
Goren really couldn't see.
- You know... Eames was blushing violently. That woman with whom...
Oh... Oh...
But Eames was all pink, and everything was in the way.
So that's what Eames was referring to.
The woman named Becky, whom she'd caught underneath him, in action.
- You'd like to know... A mysterious, satisfied smile appeared on Goren's lips. If I'm still seeing Becky...
At his words, Eames grimaced.
If she'd like to know if he was still seeing Becky.
So that was her name, this blonde woman, who was no taller than she was.
Eames wondered how Becky and Goren, given their height difference, could have fit together to do this sort of thing.
But after all, size had nothing to do with it.
In addition, why was she thinking about it.
It was none of her business.
And above all, it didn't interest her.
And certainly not whether he was still sleeping with her.
She just wanted to know.
Just to find out.
And pretend she was interested in knowing he was seeing a girl.
Then, not at all.
Goren did what he wanted, and with whom he wanted.
What was he trying to imagine.
- You've got it all wrong.
Was it true...
Was he really mistaken.
So why was she asking him.
If Eames was asking, it was because he was interested in knowing whether or not he was still seeing Becky.
Maybe he should tell her yes, that he was seeing Becky again, just to see her reaction, and to see if she might be jealous.
Which would please her enormously.
Because Goren couldn't admit to Eames that he hadn't seen Becky since she'd walked in on them.
And that from the moment he'd tasted her little breast and caressed the wetness of her crotch, he could only think of one thing.
To ass-fuck Eames, and still be able to hear her moan under his caresses.
For he no longer found any interest in other women.
Despite his misplaced pride, and his refusal to give in to a man, Eames just wanted to be picked.
And he wanted to be that man, who would pick the flowers hidden inside her, ready to open up.
Becky had only served as a substitute for Eames.
Letting him use her, calling her his partner's name, giving free rein to his baser instincts.
But Eames would never be that, he'd rather die.
Goren still remembered Becky's allusion to Eames.
And thank God, Eames hadn't understood.
But it was strange…
Seeing Becky opposite her, and her small stature, hadn't Eames seen their similarities.
Especially as it was striking.
Becky was about the same height as Eames, she had golden, medium-length hair, she had big hazel eyes, but above all, her face bore a striking resemblance to Eames.
And Eames had seen nothing, much to his relief.
For Goren was sure she would have gouged out his eyes, had she discovered the subterfuge.
But it's true that she'd been too absorbed by what she'd seen to react and notice anything.
On the one hand, it was better that Eames didn't notice.
Because Goren knew she'd have clawed his eyes out, discovering that he only fantasized about one thing, getting her into bed.
But on the other hand, maybe she'd have realized that he didn't see her as a partner, or a friend, or a sister, but as the woman she hid beneath her detective side.
Eames thought he was different from other men.
Not like his colleagues, capable of fantasizing about their colleagues.
But not at all.
He was just like the others.
That was why Becky had been there, to satisfy his baser instincts.
Nothing more.
But now that he'd touched Eames, nothing would ever be the same again.
He only dreamed of touching the Eames again.
Becky could never be that substitute again.
And when he'd told Becky he wanted to stop seeing her.
She'd immediately understood, and told him, that Eames was the reason.
And she was right.
- Goren... Eames... Deakins tapped the edge of Goren's desk with his fist. In the interrogation room.
Goren closed the door to the interrogation room, finally finding himself alone with Eames.
He moved away from the door, towards Eames, who was putting away papers, and didn't realize that he had just stopped behind her.
He brought his hand to Eames' hair, and lifted it up, away from her neck, to come and lower her face, his lips brushing her skin.
At the softness of his lips on her skin, Eames blushed violently, her heart pounding in her chest.
But she pulled herself together.
No, she couldn't give in.
She wasn't an object.
In addition, why didn't he go to Becky if he wanted sex.
Instead of tormenting her.
She dropped the papers, stepped aside, turned to face him.
- Stop this right now.
Stop it...
But he didn't want to.
And seeing her rosy-cheeked, and all flustered, set him on fire.
Because whether she liked it or not, Goren could see that Eames was confused by what he'd just done to her.
So why not continue.
- Alex...
Goren moved his finger towards the hardened tip of Eames' little breast, brushing it through the fabric.
- But you're confused by me.
- No, I'm not.
She tapped her finger with her hand, forcing it aside, and crossed her arms at chest level, hiding her from Goren's gaze.
- Goren stepped towards Eames, who stepped back in panic. You can't recognize…
Eames found her back stopped by the wall of the interrogation room.
Goren stopped a few millimeters from her, a small smile on his lips, and placed his hand flat on the wall beside Eames' face, and brought his other free hand to her small breast, which he took full hand through the fabric, making her jump, and let out a small cry of surprise,
- ...That you want me to touch you as much as I do.
I'm sorry.
But Goren was just kidding himself.
Did he really think she wanted him to touch her.
But she didn't.
And yet...
Eames had to admit, every time he touched her, it was very pleasant.
But it didn't matter.
Goren mustn't touch her.
Besides, was he forgetting that he was her partner, and the room they were in.
- No... Stop.
Stop...
Surely not.
One, because he could see that what he was doing to her was pleasurable.
And two, because he wanted to touch her.
So no, he wouldn't stop.
- Do you want me to touch you... Goren moved his hand away from her little breast, to slide it to her crotch, brushed it across the fabric. Here.
- Don't touch.
My God...
But it wasn't a no.
He knew a no from a yes.
And the no that Eames had just uttered was none other than a masked yes.
So, despite his refusal, Goren slipped both his hands down Eames' pants, which he took between his fingers, as well as his panties, and pulled them down.
But Eames put his hands on hers, stopping his gesture.
- You're forgetting where we are.
Where they were.
If she'd really wanted him to stop, Eames wouldn't have come up with that excuse.
And so, he was right.
Eames wanted him to go on, to touch her.
So he was going to grant her wish.
- Which means, someplace else... you'd say yes.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
No, I wouldn't.
Goren was wrong about everything.
It had nothing to do with the place.
He wasn't supposed to cross the boundaries of their partnership, nothing more.
- I said no.
In reply, he grabbed her wrists with one hand and continued to remove her pants and panties, which he slid to the floor.
Finally free of his clothes, which were perfectly useless for what he was about to do, Goren let go of Eames' wrists and crouched down to his crotch.
He grabbed Eames's hips, pulled them apart, plunged his head inside, stuck out his tongue, and licked her little button, and her little lips, already all wet.
At this audacity, and this caress, Eames felt herself faint.
My God...
What Goren dared to do to her...
Was so pleasurable.
She should have been strong, pushing him away.
But she loved what he was doing to her, and she wanted him to continue.
So dropping her barriers, and her restraint, she brought her hands to Goren's half-bebian, half-ashen curls, grabbed them, and forced him to sink his head deeper into her crotch.
- Oh Bobby... That's...
My God...
Eames was boiling hot.
Her wetness spurting into his mouth, that way of clutching at his curls, that what he had at his crotch, was all but ready to explode, so great was his desire, and violent.
- Oh Bobby...
He grabbed Eames by her little buttocks, plunged his tongue between her little lips, devouring her.
- Bobby... I'm going to...
Eames felt the explosion, but like last time, Goren pulled away, stopping everything, leaving her frustrated.
My God...
He'd done it again.
Violent anger surged through Eames.
Goren was having fun at her expense.
- I've already told you... He pulled up Eames' panties, as well as his pants. You've got to ask me...
Oh no, then.
Goren wasn't going to give her the same line again.
First he'd light a fire inside her, then he'd stop everything, frustrating her.
This was too much for Eames, who saw red.
She lifted her foot and slammed it into his chest with all her might, knocking his ass to the floor.
- Never gonna happen.
She walked briskly to the door and opened it, but stopped, and turned one last time to Goren, who stood there, sitting on the floor, looking at her, a small mocking smile on his lips.
So that was it.
He was mocking her.
Well, she was going to make him regret it.
- Don't you ever touch me again... She screamed in rage, her face scarlet, forgetting where she was. Or I'll kill you.
On her last words, she left the room, slamming the door with all her might, in front of a Goren who couldn't contain the hilarity rising up inside him, and burst out laughing.
My God…
But Eames was playing offended.
Whereas she had loved what he had done to her, to the point of letting go completely.
And he was far from insensitive to the little blonde.
On the contrary, all he wanted to do was sit her down on the table and possess her.
And he was sure that if he'd kept going until she came, she'd have asked for it.
But he wanted her to ask him first.
And she stubbornly refused, even though that was all she wanted.
But sooner or later, Eames would come and ask him to touch her of his own free will.
For despite his misplaced pride, he knew that Eames was far from insensitive to him.
- Yes... One day you'll come and ask me.
A small, satisfied smile played on his lips.