Author's Notes: This was plotted and half-written before I saw Season 2.

I am laughing at how I agonized for months trying to deal with Otis' trauma – managing four chapters - and the show basically breezed past it and directly contradicted my belief that Otis blamed himself for the divorce.

Ah, well - I'll be sticking with my basic outline of the steps they take to be fully together but there will be influences from Season 2.

Also, if you think they seem to be moving too fast, this isn't the chapter where they slow down.

Chapter 18

Maeve lay against the cushions on the lounge, grateful that Otis had dragged a footstool over towards the centre so she could stretch out. She gently watched as he re-entered the room and joined her on the lounge, stretching out beside her.

"Top's in the washing machine. Bra and pants in the sink," he said.

"Your mum'll be okay using the sink?"

"Mum uses the sink all the time," Otis said. "I keep telling her to use the bathroom but she says the sink's more convenient because it's right near the washing machine."

"She's right. It is convenient," Maeve murmured.

"I've set the timer on the stove for fifteen minutes. That should be enough for soaking your bra and pants."

"You really do know shit," Maeve breathed.

"I try to pay attention," Otis said.

"You certainly do," Maeve said, gently smiling at him.

"So," he began, smirking, "we going to watch a movie?"

Maeve rolled her eyes. "Yeah, we can watch Clueless. You'll like that."

"Why?"

"The main character falls in love with her step-brother."

Otis groaned and shook his head. "You're never going to give that one up, are you?"

"Nup," Maeve said, smirking.

Otis leaned forward and tenderly kissed her then gazed into her eyes.

"So should we start revving up?" he asked.

Maeve glanced down between them. "You're already revved up."

"Well, you need revving up."

"I've been revving up ever since you walked down the stairs with a blue veiner."

Otis scrunched his face. "Blue veiner?"

"Well, you weren't sleeping and it wasn't a diamond cutter."

"There's no other gradations?"

"Don't think so."

"Does that mean you call it your diamond?"

"I call it my cookie."

Otis frowned for a moment then said, tentatively, "Because I'm the cookie monster?"

Maeve smiled. "I knew you'd get it."

"Do you want me to…?" Otis asked gently, clearly nervous.

"Not tonight," Maeve said, quietly. "Not yet. I… don't think you're ready for that yet."

Otis nodded then asked, carefully. "Do you think I'm moving too fast?"

Maeve ran her gaze across his face. "I think you're doing what you think is best so you can get comfortable with us being together."

"It's only been a couple of days since we kissed."

"Two days and twelve hours," Maeve said, gently smiling. "Don't know how many minutes."

Otis smiled gently at her.

"Don't keep second guessing yourself, Otis," she continued. "Trust your instincts and let me trust mine. I think you're moving as fast as you really want to and doing your best not to let all that bullshit you've been dealing with stop you."

"I think I'll still need to take it a bit slowly," he said softly. "Just at first. Just so we know I'm not fooling myself."

"I understand," Maeve said gently.

He smiled at her a moment then quietly asked, "Would you hold me?"

Maeve gave him a gentle smile and nodded.

"Stroke it like you did last night and then just… hold it," he said, forcing a slow breathing pace, preparing himself.

Maeve nodded and glanced down then reached out her hand and grabbed him through his boxers and, not quite as firmly as last night, squeezed him and dragged her hand the length of him and held his tip tightly in her palm.

She felt him tense and looked up to see he was holding his breath then he released it and relaxed a little.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, breathlessly and she could see he was focussing his attention on the feel of himself held in her palm.

"Did that feel…?" She trailed off, searching for a word to use.

"It felt good," Otis said. "Feels good."

Maeve continued holding him in her palm without moving and watched as Otis became accustomed to the feeling.

"Okay," he breathed after a moment. "Would you… go the other way?"

"Okay," she murmured and gently pushed her hand down the length of him until she felt her hand cupping his balls.

She watched as he breathed in then out then in again and she studied him for any sign of panic.

After a moment, Otis released his breath and relaxed a little more and said, "Thank you."

Maeve released him and watched as he looked into her eyes, bent down for a tenderly passionate kiss and then quietly asked, "Is it okay to start touching your breasts?"

"You can touch any part of me tonight," she said, softly. "Except my bumhole," she amended. "And don't tickle."

Otis looked at her, intrigued. "You're ticklish?"

"You try and I will stab you in the eye."

Otis smiled and leant down to kiss her again.

"I'll need you to let me know if you want to touch me again," he said, apologetically.

"I understand," Maeve murmured.

"I mean, just at first. We'll be able to get lost in the moment-"

"It's okay," she whispered, gently touching his cheek.

"I'll let you know when I want to move further," he murmured.

Maeve nodded. "So are you going to stop talking and start revving?" she asked, biting her lip.

Otis smiled and leant down to kiss her again. His hand softly touched her side and slowly moved toward her breast until he was gently holding it then he began softly rubbing his thumb across her nipple.

She would have to take the t-shirt off at the first available opportunity. The touch of his hand against her skin was so vivid in her memory and this shirt was a lot thicker than the top she wore last night.

"Is it okay to take your t-shirt off?" Otis asked quietly. "It's thicker than your top last night."

Maeve smiled to herself at the synchronicity of their thoughts then sat up and reached for her shirt then stopped as something occurred to her and she looked into Otis' face.

"What time's Jean getting home?" she asked.

Otis looked at her and it took a moment to realise what she was thinking. "Probably real late," he said. "Ola's dad has lost his licence so mum had to pick him up and she'll probably drop him off and have sex at his place before coming home. We've got plenty of time."

"Good," she murmured.

"Besides, once the laundry's finished we'll go upstairs. She won't be home before that."

"Great," Maeve said, taking the t-shirt off and tossing it aside.

Otis watched her as she lay back then he leant over and kissed her before moving his head down to circle her nipple with his tongue. He had been right. It was easier this time around.

As he moved his head over to her other breast and tenderly circled her other nipple with his tongue, she reached out to gently run her fingers across his hair.

"Feeling okay?" she murmured.

He lifted his head and looked at her, nodding. "Much easier than last night." He smirked softly. "I'm not as afraid that they'll explode if I do this." He flicked her nipple with his tongue.

"Dickhead," she murmured, smiling.

He bent his head again and kissed her nipple and Maeve lay her head back and closed her eyes and felt her tide rising even higher.

Maeve could feel herself reaching the point where the need to feel his fingers down there would override her desire to let him guide the pacing of the night.

She was as concerned as he was that this might be a mistake – she was doing plenty of second-guessing of her own – but she really did sense something different about him tonight.

His fingers and his tongue on her breasts were somehow more confident tonight and she could only imagine how much more confident his fingers on her little labs and then inside her would be.

Maybe loving her really was the key, trusting her enough to tell her about his history, desiring her enough to do whatever he could to normalize what should be normal between them.

She glanced down at him, stroked his hair gently again and then met his lips as he raised his head toward hers.

When their lips parted, he gazed tenderly into her eyes and she could see no shadow or cloud within his.

He glanced down at the shorts she was wearing.

"Are you wearing pants under those?" he asked and Maeve drew in a soft breath at the desire in his voice.

"Dunno," she said, biting her lip. "Can't remember. Maybe you better check." She spread her legs slightly.

Otis smiled gently at her then she felt the gentle touch of his fingers against her thigh and tingles went through her as he whispered his fingers along her skin and slid them inside the leg of her shorts.

She took in a quick sharp breath as an outstretched finger brushed her clit and then gently encircled it.

"Ohhh, shit, Otis," she said, closing her eyes.

"Something wrong?" asked Otis with a smirk in his voice.

"Magic fingers," she murmured.

Otis stroked his finger across her clit again then she felt his hand withdraw from her shorts and she opened her eyes and stared at him with a mixture of soft dismay and concern.

Otis smiled at her and asked, tentatively, "Do you think we should open the mystery box?"

Maeve relaxed and smiled. "Yes," she said firmly.

Otis smiled to himself and rose to his knees, shuffling along the footstool to a better position as Maeve sat up and put her arms back, resting on her hands and raising her knees, watching him carefully.

Otis appreciated her for a moment then looked down at her shorts.

Maeve watched him hesitate and take in a slow breath.

"As slow as you need," she murmured. "If you don't want to go further…"

Otis looked at her and said, "I do."

He looked back down at her shorts and reached out to grab the waistband at both hips. Maeve lifted her butt and Otis dragged her shorts up and over her knees and down her legs and off her feet and tossed them aside.

Maeve spread her legs further and watched as Otis turned back to her and looked down, appreciating her.

"You like?" she asked, quietly.

Otis nodded and looked into her eyes and said, hesitantly. "Carpet doesn't match the drapes. I was expecting a pink fringe."

"Dickhead," Maeve said and smiled.

Otis studied the hair on her head and pointed. "You mean those aren't your natural colours?"

"Dickhead," she said again, still smiling.

Otis grinned to himself, glanced between her legs again then shuffled position to lay down beside her. Maeve lay back against the cushion and they stared into each other's eyes in silence for a few moments.

"Maeve…?" Otis eventually began, seriously.

"What?"

"I checked. You're not wearing pants."

"Dickhead," she said, grinning.

"May I touch you?" he asked after a moment.

Maeve nodded. "Yes," she said quietly, "but don't push yourself."

"I won't," he said.

"You're feeling okay?"

"Yes."

He leaned over and kissed her then Maeve again felt his fingers against her thigh, travelling slowly upwards across her skin until they were stroking between her little labs and gently swirling around her clit.

She hoped she could hold off coming until they were inside her.

Maeve realised she had given herself over to him completely.

He seemed to be doing fine. Every time he slowed down the rhythm, every time he switched to rubbing his palm across her clit and her labs, she had opened her eyes to study him and, apart from the times he was concentrating so hard on bringing her to the boil that it seemed nothing in the world existed for him except his hand and her vulva, he really was showing none of the nervousness or uncomfortableness of the night before. He seemed so much more at ease attending to her pleasure.

She could feel the pressure building as his fingers stroked rapidly back and forth across her clit. She loved how last night he had been so gentle and tender and slow while tonight he had added this to the mix - a little rougher, a little faster - and she hadn't even had to tell him that sometimes rougher was good.

She heard the sound of the stove timer in the distance and a wave of regret washed through her. She knew him too well.

"Leave it," she murmured without opening her eyes then groaned as Otis removed his touch.

"It'll just take a couple of minutes," she heard him say as she felt him roll away from her.

"It can wait," she said, resenting the almost-pleading tone in her voice.

"We don't want to forget about them," Otis said as she felt him rise from the lounge.

"I wouldn't have stopped jerking you off if it was the other way around," she called after him.

There was no response. She opened her eyes and was surprised to him staring down at her, smirking.

"Dickhead," she murmured as he lay down beside her again.

"Just building the anticipation," he said.

"My anticipation is built," she said, mock-annoyed. "I'm now waiting for the pay-off."

"I'm doing good?" he asked.

"You are doing so good," she breathed. "Your fingers are so magical. You are so close to sending me beyond the moon. You so don't deserve me at this moment."

"Well, I better start trying to deserve you," he said and put his hand on her thigh again. "With your permission."

Maeve mock-pouted at him. "Permission granted. On one condition."

"What condition?"

"That I not be the only one naked."

Otis smiled and sat up to remove his t-shirt before laying back down and lifting his hips so he could drag his boxers off and toss them aside.

Maeve gazed softly at his erection before moving her gaze to his face as he returned to her side.

"That's better," she murmured.

"Would you touch it again?" he asked, quietly.

She nodded and reached down to wrap her palm around his tip, just holding it.

"Do you want me to stroke it?" she asked.

"Just a little," Otis said. "Slowly."

He gasped as she moved her hand slowly across his ridge and down then back over his ridge again.

Maeve watched him as she kept up the slow rhythm of her hand. He had closed his eyes and was breathing steadily, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling as much as he could.

"Do you want me to try to finish you?" Maeve asked.

Otis opened his eyes and gently stilled Maeve's hand.

"Not yet," he said.

"It's okay to want to get off," Maeve said.

"I know," said Otis. "But… I want to… finish you first."

"You want to see my cumface," Maeve smirked.

"I saw your cumface last night," Otis said.

"No, you saw my face as I came. You didn't see my real cumface."

Otis smiled softly. "Well, um, maybe I could continue to try to rectify that situation?"

Maeve released him and smiled tenderly at him. "Okay," she said.

Otis leant over and kissed her tenderly then touched her thigh and whispered his fingers higher along her skin until they again reached her little labs and began stroking.

"Is this okay, Maeve? Do you like the way I do this?" Otis asked softly.

"I love the way you stroke my little labs," Maeve murmured.

"Your what?" Otis asked, puzzled.

"My flaps," Maeve said.

Otis scrunched his face at the term. "What was that first one?" he asked.

"My little labs."

"I like that one."

"Little labs. Downstairs lips. Flaps. Pink shutters."

"Are your others your big labs?"

"Just my labs."

"Labs. Little labs. Clit. Pussy. Is that the dirty talk you like?"

"Mmmm," Maeve murmured.

"Do you mind if I move my fingers inside you?"

Maeve studied him then murmured, "No."

Otis nodded then looked down and slowly slipped two fingers inside her again. He held them there, not moving, and looked at Maeve. "Do you mind if I just do this for a moment?"

"No," Maeve murmured.

"Just want to make sure…" he said quietly.

"It's okay," Maeve whispered.

"I like how this feels," he murmured.

"Me, too," Maeve sighed.

"Was I doing alright last night? At this bit?" he asked, nervously concerned.

"If I hadn't touched you, you would have sent me into the stratosphere."

"Is it okay to start moving again?" he asked, looking queryingly at her.

She nodded then gave a little moan as he twisted his fingers and began to stroke inside her.

"Is this okay?"

"Stroking my girl button? Fuck, yeah," she said.

"Girl button?" Otis said, smiling gently.

"Think of a better name for it, I'm all ears."

"Is this good?" Otis said, still stroking.

"Mmm-mmm."

"This?"

"Mmm."

Otis watched her tenderly as her feelings of pleasure washed across her face. His fingers continued their movement and he watched in soft fascination as her breathing quickened, deepened. When she gave yet another soft moan, he wondered if he could come just from listening to her.

Maeve could sense herself beginning to lose it. Her tide was the highest she had ever remembered it being and as Otis' fingers stroked and twisted gently she remembered she didn't have to keep quiet and sighed, "God."

When she felt his thumb slide across her clit, she moaned, "Jesus."

When she felt his tongue flicking across her nipple, she cried, "Fuck!"

When she felt him moving even faster, she sensed her body involuntarily react and when she heard him murmur, "Christ, you're so beautiful," she gasped and yelled "Jesusfuckingchristotis," and crested around him.

When he removed his fingers, she was lifted higher into the stratosphere.

When the waves passed and she was able to open her eyes and look at him, he was gazing at her with tear-filled eyes and a look of adoration that took her breath away.

Maeve felt a comfort she had never before experienced as Otis wrapped his arm around her shoulders while she nuzzled against his neck. She wasn't sure how long it had been since her world exploded into a billion tidal waves of pleasure but right now all she wanted to hear was Otis' gentle tones.

"You looked so beautiful," he murmured.

"You did that for me," she murmured.

"I honestly once never thought I could."

"It's okay to feel good that you pleased me," she murmured.

"I never imagined… I mean, mum and dad over the years told me about… women's pleasure… some of it when I was old enough to understand… but… sorry, do you want me to keep quiet for a bit?"

"Talk," Maeve murmured.

"I did do some research. It's not true I can watch something once and know what to do."

"Porn?" Maeve asked.

"Yeah. Girls – women – by themselves. Seeing what they liked for themselves."

"Mmmm," Maeve hummed, satisfied.

"Was one video out there. A guy trying to demonstrate on an orange. Do not go looking. Nightmare fuel."

Maeve snorted a very soft chuckle.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask more last night about what you liked," he said, quietly apologetic. "I just… didn't think I could talk and…"

"Finger me," Maeve murmured.

Otis smiled softly to himself. "Yeah. Talk and finger you at the same time. I hoped I could judge by the look on your face."

"Mmmm," Maeve murmured.

"I mean, you seemed to enjoy what I was doing," he said quietly and Maeve imagined a gently smug smile on his lips.

"Understatement," she murmured.

"I'm just glad you still let me…" he murmured.

Maeve opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at him. "How did it compare to last night? Not the other shit," she clarified. "Just that bit."

"Had a few moments where those feelings, those memories were there, but… they didn't really affect me. Made me… a bit uncomfortable at first but I just kept focussing and breathing and they went away."

"You did seem more at ease."

Otis looked at her gently for a moment that stretched to an eternity. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Pleasure Supreme," she murmured.

She leaned forward and kissed him tenderly.

"My turn now?" she asked.

Otis nodded. "If you're ready," he said.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, softly.

"Just… just hold me again, to start off with."

Maeve smiled tenderly then looked down at him and gently wrapped her hand around his tip, loving the gentle inhale he gave and the soft shudder that went through him.

"Still sensitive?" she asked, quietly.

"Mmm-mmm," he nodded.

"Just tell me when you want me to start stroking," she said.

"You can start," he said quietly and Maeve could sense his anticipation.

She bit her lip then gently moved her hand across his ridge and down the length of him. She studied his face, noticing the looks of nervousness and pleasure mingling there.

"Not too much?" she asked.

Otis shook his head. "I'll let you know if I don't think I can handle it."

Maeve nodded and looked back down at him, stilling the movement of her hand and gently running her thumb across his ridge.

Otis took in a deep breath and let it out slowly then reached down and put his hand over Maeve's.

"Just… hold me like that," he said.

Maeve nodded gently, kept her hand wrapped around him, not moving.

"Just for a few minutes," he said.

Maeve studied him, then asked, "What were you thinking about? This morning?"

"What?" Otis asked, confused.

"When you were tugging your tiger?"

"You," Otis said.

"I'll need you to be more specific," Maeve smirked.

Otis rolled his eyes at himself then said, "My dream."

"The dream that you said you didn't have about my pants?"

Otis smiled and nodded. "That one. It was the first one I ever had. Not the first dream I had about you. I'd had a lot of dreams about you since the summer." He paused for a moment and swallowed then continued. "It was my first wet dream," he said, almost sheepishly.

Maeve bit her lip and smiled. "When was this?"

"The morning before our first clinic," Otis said.

Maeve glanced away, pondering then remembered and looked back at Otis, grinning with understanding. "That's why you wouldn't look at me."

"You remembered?" Otis said, surprised.

"I'm remembering more than I thought I did," Maeve murmured.

"I felt kind of ashamed that I had objectified you," Otis said.

Maeve fondly rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Fucking hell, Otis," she murmured. "Not that shit again. Do you think I was thinking about that first conversation about Sylvia Plath when I started flicking my bean about you? I was thinking about your blue eyes. How your lips would feel. How your fingers would feel touching me there."

Otis shrugged and smiled softly.

"So how did you objectify me?" Maeve asked.

Otis took a breath. "We were at Aimee's party. Somebody had split a whole tray of drinks on your dress and you'd borrowed one from Aimee and you were going to have a shower and you chose the bathroom where I'd gone when I needed to be alone and you forgot to lock the door and I walked in on you."

"And I was in only my pants," Maeve said, not realising she had released her grip on Otis.

"No, you were still in your dress. I was going to leave but you told me to stay and you told me what happened…"

"And…?"

"And then you turned away and asked if I'd undo the zip on your dress."

Maeve smiled softly, not realising she was rubbing her fingers gently along the length of him.

"I'd seen that in so many movies and… it… it seems… I really like it," he confessed, sheepishly. "So I did. You were looking in the mirror and I was behind you and I… undid your zipper… and…"

"Don't be embarrassed. What?"

"I was looking at your neck and I wanted to kiss it – just a few kisses - and… put my arms around you…"

"Did you?" Maeve asked, not realising she was running her finger gently across his blowhole.

"No. I was going to leave and then you dropped your dress and you were standing there in your bra and pants and I could see you in the mirror and then our eyes met and you asked me if I would undo your bra."

"Did you?"

"Yes. I didn't fumble with it or anything," he said, almost proudly.

"We're all perfect in dreams," Maeve murmured. "What happened then?"

"You… let your bra fall to the floor and you were standing there in just your pants and I…"

"What?"

"I wasn't staring. I was…"

"You were objectifying me," Maeve said, smirking.

Otis smiled wryly. "I was appreciating you."

"Then what?" Maeve asked, not realising she was gently squeezing and releasing his tip as she slowly twisted her palm back and forth.

"I looked into the mirror and you were looking at me and you asked me if I'd like to have a shower with you so I could wash your back and then…"

"Then?"

Otis shrugged. "I woke up," he finished, lamely.

Maeve stared at him for a few moments, smiling gently, then murmured, "You came."

Otis nodded. "That was the first wet dream I ever had about anyone."

"And you were 'horrified' that you had objectified me?" Maeve asked fondly.

Otis nodded and gave a rueful smile. "I was a lech. I was a bad person. I was Hannibal Lecter."

"Ohhh," Maeve said, understanding. "That's where the Hannibal Lecter thing came from."

"Yeah."

"Casual Hamm is more your vibe."

"Eric came up with that one."

"What colour were my pants?" Maeve asked. "In your dream."

"Pink."

"I don't own pink pants."

"I didn't know."

Otis smiled gently at her then looked down at her hand gently stroking him.

Maeve followed his gaze then gasped in shock.

"I'm sorry," she said, horrified, snatching her hand away.

"It's okay, it's okay," Otis said. "It was feeling good."

"I'm sorry. I didn't even realise," Maeve said, apologetically.

"Do you want to keep doing it?" Otis asked. "Just… touching me the way you normally would touch someone?"

"It was okay?" Maeve asked, still concerned.

"It was feeling really good. I didn't have any of those bad feelings," he said.

"I hadn't even realised I was doing it," she said.

"Isn't that what we're aiming for? That we can get lost in the moment and it's okay?" Otis asked.

Maeve nodded and murmured, "Yeah," then gently gripped him again, softly stroking him.

Otis took in a deep breath and slowly released it as he watched her hand.

"What did you like?" Maeve asked quietly. "What felt the best?"

Otis stared gently at her then murmured, "When you were stroking my blowhole."

Maeve moved her thumb to gently stroke his blowhole. "Like that?"

Otis shuddered and swallowed and nodded. "Uh-huh."

Maeve smiled to herself then gently began rubbing her thumb across his ridge again. "How about that? How does that feel?"

"Good," Otis said, hoarsely.

Maeve began stroking the length of him again. "What about this?" she asked. "Too slow? Too fast?"

"Faster," Otis said.

Maeve nodded and began stroking faster, moving back and forth across his ridge, watching his hips buckling.

"Do you want to hear the joke?" Maeve asked.

"What?" Otis asked, confused.

"The joke. It's a more appropriate moment," Maeve said.

Otis nodded.

Maeve leant closer and murmured in his ear. "What's the difference between like, love and hate?"

Otis frowned and thought for a moment, then shrugged and shook his head.

"Spit, swallow, bite," Maeve said, biting her lip.

Otis chuckled softly.

"Do you want me to suck it?" Maeve asked quietly.

Otis looked at her in shock then his hips bucked and he moaned and felt the world disappear in an explosion of bliss and Maeve felt warm stickiness spreading across her fingers.

Maeve wiped her hands on his t-shirt then used it to wipe the stickiness from his penis and his stomach. She kept glancing at Otis as he slowly came back to himself.

"I didn't think you were that close," she said.

"Neither did I," Otis said, breathing returning to normal.

"You must really have liked that last offer," Maeve said, smirking.

"You don't have to, Maeve," Otis said.

"I wouldn't have made the offer if I didn't want to," she said, tossing the shirt onto the floor and lying down beside him, snuggling against him.

"I just don't… After Olivia…"

"Olivia's boyfriend was a dick. You're not like that."

"I just don't want you feeling obliged…"

"God," Maeve sighed, fondly. "How many times am I going to have to tell you?"

Otis looked gently at her. "Infinity plus one?"

Maeve smiled at him, twirled a finger around his chest. "So how was it?"

"It was incredible, Maeve," Otis breathed. "You were… so good."

"You didn't have any of those feelings?"

"None. Not a single one. I just… all I was thinking about was how good you were making me feel."

"So you're right. Doing things does get easier for you."

"I can't believe I've come this far so quickly," he said, amazed.

"I think I'm flattered," Maeve said, smiling gently at him.

"I'm still not ready for sex yet," he said.

Maeve nodded.

"But I… y'know…" His voice trailed off.

"What?" Maeve asked.

Otis sighed, torn between speaking and keeping silent.

"Come on, Otis. You're not still shy after we've just got each other off?" she murmured, smiling.

"I would like to taste you," he said, staring directly into her eyes.

Maeve smiled gently. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

"If you don't want me to yet, that's fine, but…"

Maeve looked at him, not speaking.

"When I was… fingering you, I thought of asking you if I could lick you but… events got away from me."

"You just want to see if I do taste like vanilla," Maeve smirked.

"I bet you taste like strawberries and cream."

"I'd win that bet."

"We don't have to. Some other time," he murmured.

"I don't want you feeling obliged, Otis."

Otis dropped his head and smiled sheepishly. "Point taken."

Maeve studied him gently for a long moment. "Look, let's just get these clothes hung out and then I'll see, okay?"

"Okay."

"I think I've unleashed a monster," she smirked.

"Figjam?"

"Fuck off," Maeve said, smiling and rising and walking toward the kitchen.

"I love you," Otis said as he smiled and rose from the lounge to follow her.

Author's Notes: I guess it's too late to turn back now.

I just figure that Otis wants Maeve more than he ever wanted Lily or Ola.