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“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “It was obnoxious.”
“Hopefully, you won’t have to be worrying about me too much longer,” he told me. “But I should probably make it up to you,” he said, turning me, and pressing me back against the wall.
“That would be the right thing to do,” I said even as I felt his fingers teasing up my thigh.
“Think so too,” he said as his fingers pressed between my thighs, his fingers sliding down my cleft, then slipping inside as his thumb found my clit.
“Ready for me already?” he asked as my hips rocked against his touch.
“Always,” I admitted because I was pretty sure that was true. I was always ready to feel him touch me, to have him move inside of me.
“Fuck,” he growled as a little moan escaped me. “I need to feel you,” he said as his fingers slid out of me. His hand lifted my leg on my good side, then moving inward, his cock pressed against my cleft, the slid inside of me.
I was pretty sure we both gasped as the tip slid in, then as he filled me. Slowly. Making me aware of each thick inch, of the way my body accommodated him.
Once he was settled deep, my walls tightened hard, getting a growling sound out of him before he started to move inside of me.
Not like before.
Not hard or fast.
Slow.
Deep.
Intimate.
His lips claimed mine again as he kept moving.
I’d never had sex like this before.
The kind of intimacy that felt just as much about the journey as the end.
Even so, though, he drove me steadily toward that oblivion. His lips swallowing my cries as I wrapped him up tight, holding on as the waves started to crest, then crash through me. Hard, deep, pulsations of pleasure that started where our bodies met, then spread outward until they seemed to overtake me completely.
“Fuck, mama,” A groaned, driving me up and through it before burying deep and coming in me.
In me.
The realization must have come to him at the same time, because his forehead pressed gently to mine.
“Wasn’t thinking straight,” he admitted.
“It’s okay,” I assured him, reaching for his hand, and running it toward my upper arm, waiting for him to feel it. The little implant that assured me that there would be no whoopsies. “And the hospital ran every test known to mankind,” I added.
“Got my usual tests at the beginning of the year. Haven’t been with anyone since,” he admitted, surprising me. “And never without protection,” he added, and that somehow meant something to me. Because it was a first for me too. I was too paranoid, too against the idea of being stuck with someone forever because of one moment of stupidity.
“Me either,” I agreed, turning my face to press my lips to his again, suddenly aware that he was still inside of me, and having the irrational urge to never be disconnected from him again. “Are you okay?” I asked as I buried my face in his neck.
“Yeah. Long day, but yeah.”
“There’s extra pasta in the fridge,” I told him. “If you’re hungry.”
“Not tonight,” he said, and I figured after a full day of maiming and killing people, his stomach probably wasn’t in the mood for food. “Just bed. And you,” he added as he slowly slid out of me. “Gotta get cleaned up though. Both of us,” he added.
Then he made short work of scrubbing himself. Then, I shit you not, washing me.
I was too stunned to do anything but stand there and let it happen. Because, really, who washed you?
A, apparently.
Then we were getting out and dried, both of us making our way to the bed, then climbing in completely naked.
Neither of us said anything as his arm slid under me, then pulled me close.
I was vaguely aware of Val quietly getting up on the foot of the bed, but was too absorbed in the sensations of Andres holding me to focus on anything else.
I’d almost thought he’d fallen asleep when, suddenly, his voice broke through the quiet.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I agreed, not sure why my stomach was tensing.
“Why the fuck are your coworkers such dicks to you? Just ‘cause they know you’re better than them?”
I wish it was that.
“They don’t think I am better than them at all,” I corrected.
“But you are.”
“Maybe. But they’re too clouded by the past to see that.”
“What happened in the past?” he asked as his fingers started to gently drift up and down my spine.
Somehow, that touch gave me the strength I needed to tell him.
“It was my first really big case,” I started. “And, admittedly, I’d been cocky and headstrong and maybe a little bit reckless back then.”
“Eager to prove yourself,” A concluded.
“Yeah.”
The problem was, when you were that eager, and that sure of yourself, you weren’t taking your time, you weren’t paying close enough attention.
