"I-I was just going for a walk," Rachel said, a broken, high-pitched laugh falling from her lips.

"A walk?" Monica questioned, her eyes narrowing.

"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd get some fresh air," she replied, stretching her arms above her head and giving an enormous fake yawn. "Would you look at that, I'm worn out! So I'm just gunna…" she began heading toward her room quickly.

"Rachel Karen Green," Monica intoned firmly, clearly not buying her story for a second. Rachel stopped, reluctantly turning to face her friend. "Seriously. Where were you?"

"…I…I was…" Rachel struggled, praying for any excuse to come into her mind. Monica's stare grew heavier and she began to squirm. "I was at the boys… I forgot something at their place."

"You were at the boys' dressed like that?" Monica asked, eyeing her lingerie, laughing. "Are you seeing one of them?"

"No!" Rachel scoffed, heart pounding. Monica had obviously been teasing, but now she looked suspicious, dark eyebrows drawing together as she studied her half-naked friend. Rachel's heart was in her throat, her palms were damp with sweat.

"Oh my God. Are you seeing one of them?" she asked again, eyes wide and aghast.

"No," Rachel answered, her throat feeling very dry. "Not them… But I am seeing someone else."

"Really? Who?" Monica looked confused, but noticeably calmer, and Rachel scrambled for an answer, lighting up when one struck her.

"I'm saw Paulo again," she said excitedly before realizing from Monica's expression this was not the tone she should be using. "I was with Paulo," she repeated with considerably more shame and guilt in her voice.

"How could you?" Monica chastised. "After what he did to Phoebe?"

"I know. I know," Rachel said, with mock regret in her voice. "I swear it was a one time thing!"

"Why go down this road at all, Rach? I mean, it ended so badly."

"Honestly…" Rachel had sudden flashes of she and Chandler rolling around in his bed, his lips on hers, his hands on her. An aroused shudder washed over her, and she moved one hand up to the back of her hair, "the sex was amazing. I haven't had any since… you know," she felt a little guilty at the thought of Ross, so she moved on quickly, shrugging as she said, "I needed someone to rock my world a little."

"It was that good?" Monica asked, letting her curiosity get the better of her.

"Yeah…"

The girls sat down on the couch together, and Monica grabbed them a bottle of wine, while Rachel turned the living room lamps on, and wrapped a blanket around herself.

"Before I say anything else, I want you to know officially: I don't approve," Monica said with a meaningful look.

"I know. Me neither," Rachel said, shaking her head and sipping her wine. "We are over."

"Okay… well, now that we've covered my stance: spill," she leaned forward eagerly and Rachel laughed at her shining eyes. "Did he know you were coming over?"

"No, I caught him by surprise. In bed," Rachel said, grinning wickedly.

"Really?"

"God, he had the most horrible bed-head."

The girls stayed up for several hours while Rachel recounted the whole evening to Monica, sparing no detail except her lover's real name. When she finished, the girls talked about Joey's ballroom dancing, Monica's latest hookup, Phoebe's job prospects.

Thank God the next day was Saturday, because when the girls finally finished, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. They wandered out onto the balcony, Rachel leaned onto her elbows on the bannister, while Monica hugged herself in the cold.

"Do you think Chandler's ever really tried to sneak someone out here for sex?" Monica asked suddenly into the silence, causing Rachel to jump a little.

"What?"

"Remember what Phoebe said? I'm just wondering if he ever made it happen," Monica said with a grin and a shrug. "Kinda nasty, don't you think?"

"I don't know… Maybe with the right person…" Rachel mused, ignoring Monica's shocked expression. Monica jabbed her with her elbow.

"Who are you and what have you done with Rachel?" she asked, causing her friend to laugh. Rachel breathed in one last whiff of the city, drank in a last look at the sunrise, and straightened.

"Well, I think I'm finally going to hit the hay."

"Mhm…" Monica hummed, yawning. They shuffled back into the house, waving goodnight before entering their respective rooms. Sometimes she took Monica for granted, but on nights like tonight, she really remembered why the neurotic brunette was her favorite person on the planet.

Though, if this thing with Chandler continued the way it was going, Monica would soon have competition.

Rachel shuffled to her bed and collapsed and, for the first time in months, slept a long, deep, dreamless sleep. Her body and her heart were satisfied.

…

Afternoon sun filled her room, and strong, warm arms wrapped around her.

"Morning," he whispered in her ear, his leg rubbing against hers, and his face nuzzling into her neck. She groaned, smiled, and stretched, and they were a tangle of sighs, warmth, and limbs. It ended with them facing each other, and Rachel was struck by the feeling he raised in her. It wasn't just sexual, although that was there too. She felt safe and boundless and sexy.

"Morning," she finally said, smiling and letting her fingers play with his hair. She drank him in. His sparkling blue gaze, adorably tousled hair, wide smile, sexy scruff…

"You know your fingers aren't helping my hair situation," he said, mock-serious.

"Oh. Okay I'll stop then," she said, matching his tone and lifting her hand.

"Nononononono," he protested, wiggling his head towards her hand for her to put her fingers back in. When she refused, he buried his face into her neck, repeating his new mantra: "I take it back!"

Finally breaking, she laughed and buried her hand back in his hair, earning a satisfied sigh from her bed-guest. His hair was so silky and thick. He sunk into her, and she relaxed in his arms, molding to him.

"This is nice," she whispered, kissing the top of his head, because his face was still bent toward her neck. Chandler gave a large, lazy, warm exhale, his breath fanning over her neck and chest. The heat spread goosebumps across her skin, his lips lightly brushing her neck.

"It is nice," he agreed. "You know what's weird?" He pulled back, meeting her gaze with his quizzical blue eyes, and she immediately pressed her mouth to his. He gave a surprised grunt and fell back, rolling her with him so she was laying on his chest. He was naked.

Smart boy.

All surprised clumsiness was gone as he dominated her mouth, but today was a slow grind. Her need for him was as urgent as it had ever been, but this lazy afternoon had pushed them into slow motion. And their all-consuming flames ate at them at a delicious, crawling pace.

She moved from his mouth down his jaw, reveling in the light scratch his scruff gave to her lips and cheek, at his warm hands on her body. She moved down his throat, watching goosebumps spread across his golden skin. He gave a light shudder. She peppered this neck with gentle licks and nibbles before her thumb brushed over a slightly purple spot at the base of his throat.

The remains of the hickey she gave him three days ago. Her eyes flicked up to his, heated, blue, and hooded with lust, his cheeks flushed. She smiled. Had it really been only three days since the fiasco at her office? Why had it taken them so long?

No, fuck that. Why had it taken her so long. Chandler had obvious confidence hang-ups, but confidence was something she had plenty of. She could have shouldered that burden for the both of them if she'd only seen what could be, if she'd seen this potential (she took the moment to run her eyes up and down his tan, lightly toned, long body). She should have pounced sooner.

Then she thought back. It had only taken her a week from the beginning of her crush to have a full-on grind-session in her boss's (his then-current lover's) office with him, so maybe she should give herself some credit.

"I'm going to have to fix this," she informed him, running a finger lightly over the old bruise. His warm hands moved up her waist, over her shoulders, then down, grabbing her ass.

"Be my guest," he murmured, voice raspy. It sent aroused chills down her spine.

She bent over him and kissed the spot. She blowed gently and Chandler arched a little beneath her, squeezing her ass and looking down. She grinned up at him. Then she began to nibble. And suck. And bite. And suck more.

"There," she said, sitting back. She let herself indulge in him and ran satisfied hands up and down his lean torso. He squeezed her legs in response, looking down at her work. "What do you think?"

"I'm marked," he said, frowning.

"You are," she said with a smirk. He glanced up and seemed to get distracted by her boobs. She smirked wider. "Want to help me with this thing?" He realized he was caught, and blushed a little.

She smiled. She was still in her nightie and she felt entirely overdressed.

"With pleasure," he sat up in bed and slipped the thing off for the second time. "I can't believe I'm not dreaming," he finally whispered, staring at her naked body. "Tell me this isn't some cruel joke."

"It's not," she whispered, breath having grown ragged. He reached out and ran his fingers lightly over her breast, reaching the nipple and pinching. She inhaled sharply, and his touches were gentle again. He leaned forward and took her other nipple with his mouth. She moaned and ground into him reflexively. His hands were everywhere. Moving through her hair, at her waist, on her ass, at her breasts, on her neck.

She was growing impatient.

She reached down beneath where his mouth serviced her, and grabbed his cock. He froze for a second, then redoubled his groping. There was so much heat in the room, she felt like they were on fire together, and both were powerless to stop the slow burn. His hands felt so good.

She pulled on his dick and he moaned into her skin, sending vibrations through her. She used her other hand to play with his hair and rake her nails slowly down his neck and back. He hummed in appreciation, doing something particularly skillful with his tongue that earned a yelp from her. She scooted forward, and they both gasped. He was in her. Well halfway.

She inched down, pulling him up into her, stretching and finally burying him with force that took her breath out of her lungs. She shuddered, placing her hands on his stomach as he leaned back. She took a moment to adjust, clenching around him, and Chandler gasped beneath her, trying to keep his hips from bucking again. She savored the feeling of him there. It felt so good, and she could barely breath.

She grinned down at him. He was lying back, piercing blue eyes shut, his golden neck tense against the pillows, muscles tightened in his effort to lie still and accommodate her. His hair and lashes stood out against the cream and pink backgrounds. He was so good to her. He was so good.

She leaned forward, took his mouth with hers, and began to move. Her fingernails bit into his hair and traced his shoulders, her pace was punishing. Their mouths sucked and nibbled and lapped each other. She ground into him, tightening herself around him, swiveling her hips in a way she knew drove men crazy. She was picking up her pace. She could feel her own orgasm building, but she held it at bay, knowing she wouldn't be able to continue to move through the shattering thing.

He growled into her mouth, their moans melding together, and she took it as a sign to continue. His hands gripped her breasts firmly, palming them and rolling her nipples in a way that made her eyes want to roll to the back of her head. He was grinding back up into her, sucking her lips with alternating gentle and rough moves. He moved a hand down to her the top of her opening and began circling it furiously, but she wasn't letting him off that easy.

He gave and he gave. He was always taking care of her, even before this heated attraction, when they were just friends. Now that she'd entered his sex-life, she found he gave there too. He was always giving, and goddammit she was going to give him this. He was going to lose this battle. She squeezed herself around him, reached behind herself, and began massaging his balls.

He was panting heavily now. Heat rolled off him in waves, and he looked like he was legitimately dying. She could hardly catch her breath. Rachel licked his mouth and pulled back rubbing one finger over his bottom lip, trying not to focus too much on the pulsing pleasure in Little Rachel.

"Look at me," she ordered, surprised to hear the sex in her own rasping voice. His gaze widened at her tone. Bright blue eyes, rimmed by smokey lashes, a firm jaw line with scruff she was finding she really had a taste for, his hair tousled beyond being saved, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, pink and bitten, sweat shining on his forehead. He was sexy. He was beautiful.

She slammed into him hard, clenching around his member and moving fast. His eyes rolled back, closing, his body arching beneath her, and she felt him quiver and pulse inside her. Through the fog of her own pleasure, she smiled victoriously, pumping herself on him through his orgasm, until he flinched from over-sensitivity. She sat, squirming, panting, unsatisfied but victorious, keeping him inside her.

Chandler caught his breath, and looked up at her with respect and a little bit of fear in his eyes.

"You are a devil woman," he said firmly, and she laughed, moaning a little as it moved him inside her. He was still rock hard. He coughed. "Someone didn't get off?"

"I wanted to do something nice for you," she rasped with a shrug, and his jaw went a little slack.

"You mean… you held off your orgasm for me?" She nodded, laughing a little at his dumbfounded expression. He pounced on her, flipping them so he was on top, and causing movements in her that already had her moaning.

He was still hard. He slammed into her and she arched beneath him with a loud exclamation immediately.

"Well you're not getting off that easy."

She wanted to cry it felt so good. The tension in her was pounded back into a raging fire, and every move of his hips felt magnified a thousand times over. He devoured her mouth, lapped her nipples and moved down to her neck, biting. It was a crescendo of sensations and pulls in a million different directions (and in one, very specific direction).

He angled his hips and moved his fingers to her opening, and as she finally broke beneath him, he continued his grueling pace, refusing to let up, even as she grew over-sensitive. His nails raked down her legs and a second, even more powerful orgasm ripped through her, sending her arching off the bed against him, sweating, seeing stars drinking in his scent, his taste on her lips, the feel of him inside her, his fingers on her and in her and in all the right places. Chandler was over her, all around her, the breath in her lungs, the only solid thing in the fog of her lust, so she clung to him.

He rolled her over, using his large, warm hands to press her to the mattress and hike her hips up so he could take her from behind. He pressed into her so deeply, she wasn't sure she'd experienced this before. She gripped the bedsheets in a vice-grip and bit the bed in front of her. In and out, the panting over her shoulder, his low, growling groan in her ear. He whispered into her neck, teeth grazing her shoulder.

"Do you want to come?" he growled. She nodded, clutching the sheets and lifting her hips. "Allow me."

Hands slipped below her, massaging her skin and breasts, and she arched. One hand trailed down, fingers tracing spirals as he continued to impale her from behind, the delicate motion of his hands contrasting starkly with the powerful slap of his hips against her ass. This reminded her of the pizza incident when he'd accidentally saved her life, and she imagined this is what he'd wanted to do to her out there.

He kissed her back softly, again drawing a contrast with his grueling pace that was whipping her up into a frenzy. He really was a giver, and this was the best sex-ride she'd ever been given. He spread her legs wider with his thighs, pushing her legs up on either side of her, and then his delicate fingers were at her sore clit again, though this time he refused to touch her, dancing at the edges of her sex. Soon she was groaning in frustration and arousal, jerking her hips and yelping at the sensations it caused inside her, as she tried to force his hand to pay attention to her nub.

Finally, he pressed where she wanted and slammed her G-spot.

Broken beneath him, lost in an earth shattering orgasm that again banished color and brought black and white stars and spots across her vision. A ringing in her ears (angels she was sure) echoed with a dull slapping of skin on skin sound behind it. He was still going.

As the afternoon ensued, she came a total of six times, Chandler coming an additional two. She marked down the date quietly that night. She didn't know where this thing with Chandler was going, but this afternoon was definitely worth remembering.

…

"Hey dude, check her out. Isn't she pretty?" Ross asked, nudging Chandler. Chandler looked behind them and saw a beautiful redhead sitting at the counter.

"Oh, yeah. Pretty," Chandler agreed, shrugging. He was beginning to measure all women's beauty on a scale of 1-Rachel. This woman was a solid 5. To be fair, 5 was the highest score he'd given out so far—no one held a candle to Rachel.

Speaking of the most beautiful woman in the world, he eyed her now. Rachel was sitting across from him with her long legs crossed, sipping a cup of coffee with more grace than anyone had a right to. He saw the top of a hickey briefly poking out from the neck of her sweater before she shifted and it sank into obscurity below her top. He knew what she looked like below that top now.

Rachel had noticed his staring, and was looking back, eyes sparkling with amusement, head tilted, eyes a little narrow while a smirk fought to come over her mouth. He sighed wistfully and leaned forward so he could continue his conversation with Monica. He could see Rachel out of the corner of his eye, and he sighed, stretching and allowing his top to ride up a little, Rachel's eyes gluing to the sliver of exposed skin. He'd also worn a cologne he'd discovered drove her crazy.

This secrecy thing was fun. He'd never had such amazing sex. His eyes drifted to Rachel. Maybe it had more to do with the girl than the secret, but the secret was definitely helping, so he wasn't complaining.

"Go ask her out," Monica urged. Chandler narrowed his eyes at her, scoffing.

"No. You ask her out." Monica whacked him on the knee. "I was talking to Ross," he said in protest.

"And looking at me?" Monica snarked, not fooled.

"It's not my fault. You're brother and sister, you look very similar- OW!" She hit him again, harder, and Chandler moved to the empty chair.

"I would if I didn't have the lovely Amanda," Ross said, glancing with superiority toward Rachel, who was busy making playful eye contact with his best friend. Ross twitched, "Yes the lovely Amanda."

"Ross," Rachel finally responded, exasperated with his superiority complex, "you guys went out once. You took your kids to Chuck-ee Cheese, and you didn't even kiss her."

Ross's head immediately whipped around to Chandler, who shot a glare at Rachel over Ross's shoulder. He turned back to angry Ross.

"I tell people secrets," he finally said with a nod. "It makes them like me." He didn't feel the need to inform Ross that he told her about it while they were lying naked in Rachel's bed. He felt even less like telling him he'd divulged the taco-story as well. It was Rachel! She was a wily minx! She drew the secrets right out of him.

Rachel smirked behind Ross and Chandler glared. He would kill her later.

Phoebe stumbled in sneezing and while she talked to them about her sickness and the importance of guitar playing for the unemployed, Chandler thought of ways to get Rachel later. So far the best he'd come up with was a "kick me" sign taped to her back. He would have to do better than that.

"I still think you should ask her out," Monica said as Phoebe went to go set up for her set.

"Ditto," Chandler snarked and they made faces at each other. That's when Joey walked in, swaggering up to the redhead and spotting his friends. He directed the redhead over to their usual table.

"Hey, everyone! This is Kathy," Joey said.

"Hi," she said with a charming smile.

"Good thing you didn't ask her out," Chandler whispered to Monica and she jabbed him again with her elbow. Rachel laughed sneakily, and Chandler felt a welling of pride and happiness in his chest. It seemed like his new goal in life was to make her laugh.