[17 Feb 2001  In route.]

TERRY

Dino didn't say one word on the entire flight back.  I'd had a feeling like something about this job was a bit off, but the reality of the situation had been far worse than either of us had anticipated.  Worse than Chechnya.  Worse than that shit in Tecala.  Just worse in every way imaginable.  The real stink of it was, we did everything right.  We just trusted the wrong man.  Jameson.  Our old contact.... who turned out to be not quite the upstanding sort of bloke he was in our reality. 

Turns out his wife hadn't been kidnapped at all.  She'd left him- only we didn't know that until it was too late.  The day we located her, I was in town playing damage control with the local officials and Dino was with Jameson providing backup.  No ransom demand had been made, which had niggled at us both from the beginning.... but Jameson had spun this story about her captor- about how he was some old client of his whose sister had been killed before he could negotiate her release and how he'd had this vendetta ever since.... played us tapes of threatening phone calls, showed us letters with more of the same.  Who better to play a player than one of their own, hey? 

Problem is, the tapes and letters were real- which is partly what threw us.  The guy really had threatened Jameson once.  Unfortunately, he also later became Jameson's wife's lover.  We located them at a country estate north of Sudbury.  Extraction looked to be a piece of cake.  Surveillance indicated it was just the wife and her captor there.  I provided cover.  They went in.... and then all hell broke loose.

She wasn't a captive.  She'd left Jameson.  He'd lost it.  Orchestrated all this to flush her out.  He went berko.  Drew on her and killed her and her lover, point blank.  Dino took him down.  Then it really started to get bad.  When the wife left, she'd taken her six-year-old daughter with her.  Fucking kid saw it all.  And it was bad.  The wife took a shot in the neck.  Hit an artery.  Blood everywhere.  Dino just shoved the kid at me and told me to get her the fuck out.  Like he could have soothed her?  After she'd just watch him put a round through her old man's head?  Not likely.   

He handled the cleanup.  I informed the authorities.  We both got the fuck out of there the moment we were cleared.  It's the kind of job that stays with you.  I know it affected me and I wasn't the one who'd had to take down someone we remembered as an old friend- in front of a child, no less.  I felt for him.  I remembered what it was like to do jobs where kids were involved when Henry was little.  Never impacted my job performance.... but after, I'd always want to go home and just hold Henry and never let him go.  He was a fussy baby.  Hated it when I wanted to hold him for long.  Between jobs I remember how I'd just sit in his room night after night and watch him sleep.  Now Dino's the one with a little boy at home.  I don't envy what he must be feeling now.

On the last leg of the trip from Toronto to DC, he didn't say one word and his eyes were cold and flat.  To be honest, I'd never seen anything like it on all the jobs we'd worked together.  Like me, it never impacted his job performance.  He took it all, like he was some black hole, sucking it all in.  Now that it was over, it was like he'd simply shut down.  Like he was functioning on some sort of inner autopilot that gave me the heebie-jeebies.

I looked over at him.  He was slumped in the seat with his head resting on the window.  I admit, I wasn't feeling too stellar either... but he looked like he'd aged a hundred years and I knew from experience he probably felt worse.  Poor bastard.  I knew what he needed though.  He's tough.  Few days at home holding his boy and losing himself in his woman and he'll be apples.        

DINO

It was taking everything I had to just keep my shit together.  Intellectually, I knew that this job was probably going to be the hardest one.  First time for me with a kid at home.  Changes your whole perspective.  I knew the next time would be easier, as would the time after that, and the time after that.  I'd proven I wouldn't falter.  It wasn't much of a consolation, but it was better than nothing. 

Although the whole job had gone right down the shitter, the trip hadn't been without one or two bright spots.  While chasing down a lead in the city, I'd stumbled across a quaint little jewelry store.  Cartier it wasn't, but something in the window still caught my eye.  I'd stopped long enough to admire the unusual workmanship and smiled when I saw the price.  It was significantly less dear than the last piece of jewelry I'd bought for a woman.

I'd actually spent more on some of my shmoozy client dinners.  Granted they were at upscale restaurants, but it still amused me.  The real kicker was that I had a sneaking suspicion Heather would be far happier with this simple piece than with something more showy.  It was kind of fun, actually.  Now that I'd thought about it, the only piece of jewelry I could remember ever seeing her wear was a necklace.  I had no idea which way her tastes ran.

I've always been the kind of man who liked to give jewelry to the women in his life.  I like to be generous with women by nature, but a small part of me had known they'd expected Cartier or Tiffany because they knew I had good taste and that I could afford it.  This time, I chose something simply because it struck my fancy and because it reminded me of her, delicate and a bit whimsical.  The price and the name were irrelevant.

Unfortunately, the trip had gone steadily downhill from there and the little gift I'd tucked away in my pocket was soon forgotten.  I remembered it now, but I was too exhausted to lift my head from the window, much less muster the effort needed to hunt through my coat pockets to find it.  I sucked it up because I knew I had to and managed to make it from the helicopter to the car to my study before I collapsed into my favorite chair.  I didn't turn the lights on.  I still hadn't uttered so much as a single word.  I didn't even manage to remove my coat or my shoes.  Thankfully the old man knows me well enough to just leave me alone and keep everyone else away while he's at it.  I'd be OK in a while.  I would.  I just needed to breathe in the peace I could only find in this place.  My home.

That's exactly how Heather found me three hours later, stock still in my chair, shoes and coat still on and eerily silent.  She turned up the lights just enough to make her way across the room and set a glass down on the table next to me. 

"I brought you something," she said softly.

"I don't want a drink."  It had come out a little more harshly than I'd intended, but I felt like hammered shit.  The absolute last thing I wanted right now was a drink.

"It's water."        

My eyes opened slowly.  Water?  I sighed heavily and reached for the glass, draining it in two swallows.  It was cool and pure, like her presence.  I wanted to wrap my arms around her and drink her in the same way, to let her ease my heart the way the water had eased my thirst.  I wanted to let her peace wash over me and cleanse the torment of the last few days from me.

"Better?"

I nodded and met her eyes.  They were dark and soft, filled with concern for me.  I reached for her and laced my fingers with hers.  "I want to sleep with you tonight."

Her eyes went wide.  "Dean?"

"Just sleeping."  I couldn't get it up with a crane anyway.  Sex wasn't the reason I wanted to lay with her.  I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "I missed holding you...."  I stopped short, suddenly too tired to hide anything from her.  When I spoke again, I could hear the raw emotion in my words.  "I need to feel your arms around me tonight."  My eyes pleaded with her were my voice would not.  "Don't say no."

She nodded, aware how much it cost me to admit I needed her strength in this night.  She helped pull me to my feet and I leaned against her heavily, breathing her in.  She smelled faintly of cedar and I realized she must have had her sit in the sauna without me.  I felt her arms wrap around me tight, but her voice was a little shy.  "Dean?  Where do you want to-"

"Your room."  It was closer and Andy was used to finding my bed empty when he came looking.  The last thing I wanted to do was to terrify another kid.  Had my share of that for the next few lifetimes.  I pressed my face into her hair, beyond thankful she was willing to give this to me.

I didn't miss the little worried sigh she made when she pulled me inside her room and shut the door though.  I knew it for what it was.  "I can go."  I didn't want to, but I would.  I leaned back against the door, watching her.

HEATHER

I smiled at him.  "No, stay."  Any lingering fears of mine weren't as important as giving him what he needed tonight.  If we were going to make this work, we needed to put each other first, even if it was hard.  "You're first.  Not anyone else.  You," I whispered, thankful I hadn't yet turned on the lights.  I knew I was blushing and I didn't want him to see it.  It was better if he thought my strength was unshakable tonight, even if I was scared out of my mind.

I felt a tremor in him at my words, as if he was shaken to his very core.  "Heather-"  

"Shh...."  I put a finger to his lips.  "Just let me do this for you."

He nodded.  I left him for just a moment to turn on the lamp by the bed before I returned and helped him shrug out of his heavy overcoat.  I put it over the back of the chair by the desk and came back to him again, this time bending to undo the laces on his shoes.  I got them off and his socks too, smiling to myself as I did so.  He'd been wearing one navy sock and one black one.  I tucked a sock into each shoe and set them aside before I straightened.  He seemed content to let me undress him so I continued, flushing a little as my fingers went to work on his belt. 

It seemed a little silly to be so shy about undressing him.  I'd seen him in a towel every night for weeks, but there was something intimate about stripping away his layers one at a time.  I pulled his belt from his pants and put that over the back of the chair as well.  I stripped off his sweater next, smiling when he grunted softly as it got stuck on his nose when I pulled it off over his head.  Folding it loosely, I placed it on the desk and came back to tug his t-shirt free from his pants.  I removed that too, drinking in the sight of him barefoot and bare-chested in my bedroom. 

Even exhausted, his presence seemed to fill the small room.  I paused to drop a kiss over his heart while I smoothed my fingers over the tattoo on his arm.  His scent, musky and masculine, enveloped me.  It was the scent of a man at the end of a long day.  He didn't reek as if he'd been crawling through the jungle or sweating out a stressful extraction somewhere dangerous... but his scent was stronger and I liked it.  It wasn't cologne or aftershave, it was just him, just Dean, and there was something satisfyingly intimate about that.

He was silent, still watching me as I stood in front of him and slid my fingers down his belly to the button on his slacks.  My hands trembled just slightly as I undid it.  I could feel his underwear against my fingertips.  Boxers.  Silk this time, not the cotton I'd felt that night on the couch.  I closed my eyes and shivered.

He caught my hands in his and brought them to his mouth, kissing each palm softly.  "I can do the rest of you want me to, honey."  I knew he didn't want to make me uncomfortable.  He just wanted to fall asleep in my arms with my scent surrounding him.  I think when he asked for that he hadn't expected to be undressed so gently or to be looked after with so much care.  I could tell he was enjoying it, but I had the sense he was trying to be careful that he didn't appear to be pushing.  I wondered about him.  Would he think he was on thin ice for inviting himself to my bed so soon?  Or did he know that I'd have given him the moon tonight if he asked, thankful to have him back, safe and sound- if a little worse for the wear. 

I met his eyes, letting him see I understood the meaning behind his words.  We held each other's eyes a long moment until I was certain he knew that I understood... and then I smiled at him, letting the serious moment slide into something else.  "Don't get too excited, O'Leary.  I'm leaving the boxers on."

Despite whatever had shaken him, he smiled at my soft teasing.  "Now that's a shame."  He watched my face as my fingers went back to his slacks and slowly lowered the zipper.  There was a moment where something sparked between us.  It wasn't the right time or place but we both knew when I put my fingers on his zipper that I'd touch him.  Intimately.  It would have been a tease if I hadn't.

His breath caught when I slipped my hand inside his pants and pressed it against him- not rubbing, not stroking, just cupping him gently through the fine silk, feeling his weight and heat in my palm.  The gesture was simple and intimate and I could tell by the look in his eyes that it had touched him deeply.  It wasn't a caress designed to arouse, it was one designed to comfort.  And it did.  He exhaled slowly and a great deal of the tension in his body left with it as I slid his pants down and removed them, draping them over the back of the chair along with his coat. 

When he seemed either too reluctant or too tired to move, I returned to him and took his hand in mine, pulling him away from the door, gave him a slow, deep kiss and then a gentle push towards the bathroom.  "Go pee.  You'll sleep better."

DINO

I smiled tiredly.  Well, that answered that question.  There were two kinds of women in the world, the ones who pretended like bodily functions didn't exist and the ones who spoke plainly about them.  It was clear to me which camp she was in.  Thank God.  I'm a plain talker myself and in my experience, women who speak plainly also tend to be less inhibited in bed.  I was definitely looking forward to finding out of that was true in her case.  And she was right.  I did have to go. 

I padded into the bathroom, leaving the light off but the door open.  I wasn't embarrassed.  I didn't care if she came in or not.  I could hear her moving around in the bedroom, probably turning down the covers and getting her pajamas.  Of course, in my fantasies she slept in sexy lingerie, but I had a feeling Victoria's Secret wouldn't be revealing anything to me tonight.  With a sigh, I flushed and washed my hands.  Noticed a toothbrush on the edge of the sink as I did.  With a shrug, I wet it, added some toothpaste and stuck it in my mouth.  She'd had her tongue in there a minute ago.  Surely she wouldn't care if I shared her toothbrush.   

"Dean?  There's a toothbrush on the counter.  It's mine... but I don't care if you-"

I stuck my head out, smiled at her around the toothbrush and disappeared back into the bathroom with the soft sound of her laughter following me.  Staring at the haggard face looking back at me in the mirror while I brushed, I wondered if this was what being married would have been like.  I'd been through a bit of a rough patch... come home dog tired and half dead only to find myself being looked after in the most gentle manner possible.  Now my woman was making up a comfortable place for us to sleep and I was in her bathroom.... using her things and wiping my face and hands on a towel that smelled like her.  It was very intimate.  Domestic.  Comfortable. 

I liked it.  

Heather came in and plucked the toothbrush from my fingers, rinsed it and put more toothpaste on it before turning to me.  "I'd tell you to make yourself at home... but seeing as how I found you with my toothbrush already in your mouth, I'm going to assume I don't need to do that."

I felt a small smile turn up the corners of my mouth.  "Heh.  Probably not, honey."  I didn't even want to think about how easy it had been to make myself completely at home in her space.  I wrapped my arms around her from behind and dropped my forehead to her shoulder.  "I like your things.  I like being here with you."

"I like having you here," she said simply.  

I gave her one last squeeze and pulled away.  My tired smile got a little bigger.  I put the lid down on the toilet and sat on it, watching her brush her teeth and wash her face.  I've always been curious about how women move in their personal space and I found I liked sharing these intimate moments with her.  I liked watching her.  Usually when I was with a woman, I was too primed for sex to notice all the little details of her nightly routine, and in the mornings, I was usually either too rushed to have time to stop and watch or I was ready for another go-round, after which I usually showered and took off while the woman slept. 

Heather reached around me and grabbed a brush off the shelf, gave her hair a few quick strokes to get the tangles out and handed me the brush to put back while she took off her shoes and socks and to my surprise, peeled off her top, exposing a pretty plum colored bra before she dropped her shirt in the hamper and turned around to face me.

"Dean?"

"What, honey?"

Smiling, she waited the long moment it took for my gaze to rise above her collarbones.  "That's not a seat you can claim permanently if you want me to finish up in here."

I chuckled and reached for her, pulling her between my spread knees and rested my cheek on the satiny skin of her stomach.  She cradled my head against her, touching the stubble on my jaw, running her fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp, rubbing away the tension in my neck.  I hummed my pleasure against her belly.  "God, that feels good."

"I'm glad," she whispered as she pulled me to my feet.  "Go get in bed, Dean.  I'll be there in a minute."

I smile inwardly, pleased she wasn't afraid to give me an order, albeit a soft one.  Most people are.  It let me see that the power between us was equally balanced, despite my worry that my age and her innocence gave me a clear advantage.  I nodded and stroked the satiny strap of her bra with the tip of one finger.  I might be exhausted- but I wasn't dead.  The dark plum color looked exquisite next to her creamy skin.  "Will you wear this again for me sometime?"

"I'd love to," she said softly. 

"Really?"  

"Really."  She gave me a gentle push.  

This time, I didn't budge so much as a single inch.  "I love how you're so soft with me at times."  I stroked her cheek lightly.  "I can't imagine what I've done to deserve it."  My voice became lower, more husky as it got harder to speak.  "And I can't imagine my life without it."  I gave her a gentle kiss.  "Don't be long."  And with that, I left the bathroom, aware I'd left her a bit shocked.  She certainly hadn't been expecting my quiet, heartfelt words.  To be honest, I hadn't either.  But it felt damn good to say them.     

I heard the soft rasp of clothes being removed and donned, heard the toilet flush and the water in the sink run.  A minute later, she emerged wearing a pair of plaid flannel pajama bottoms and a white tank top.  It was short, baring her midriff, and rather plain... but thin enough that I could see the shadows of her nipples through it even in the soft light.

I laughed quietly.  "That's what you sleep in?"  I just couldn't help but ask.  It was a world away from anything I'd ever imagined.  And I'd imagined a hell of a lot.  I'd seen what she slept in when we were sharing the same hotel room, but I kind of thought maybe that might be different now that she had a room of her own again.

Her face flushed.  "No, this is what I usually wear before I go to bed."

Now, that caught my interest.  Even tired, I was drawn to her.  I might be too tired- and to be honest, too disturbed by what had happened in the last few days to actually do anything about it tonight, but it didn't stop me from wanting to learn her intimate little details.  "Before?"  My eyes glittered.  She slept naked?  Some parts of me were taking entirely too much interest in that little detail.  I also wasn't sure if I believed her.  I'd known women who'd said that before, but they rarely meant it.  They might fall asleep next to me naked, but when I woke up with them, they'd usually gotten up sometime in the night and put something on.  I raised an eyebrow at her.  "Are you telling me you sleep naked, honey?"   

She flicked off the light, slipped out of her pajama bottoms to reveal a very sexy pair of white panties and slid into bed next to me.  "I usually do."  I could feel her shrug.  "Since I got my first apartment, or shortly thereafter, anyway."  She paused.  Sighed.  "It's nice.  Comfortable..... Sensual."  I bet she was hoping I couldn't see her blush.  Heh. 

"Guess we're both lucky then.  I like sensual women who sleep naked."  I smiled up at the ceiling and made a masculine noise of approval deep in my chest.  "I also like those early mornings where a cuddle becomes something else."  You know, half way inside and starting to move before I'm fully awake.  "Sleeping with a pretty, naked girl is definitely good for those."  

She laughed at the note of wistful longing in my voice and arranged the pillows behind her before she reached for me.  "Come here."  I moved into her embrace without hesitation, wrapped my arms around her and rested my head on her breast.  It wasn't so much sexual as it was intimate.  She stroked my shoulder gently as I snuggled into her further, moving my thigh over hers and burying my face into her throat to breathe in her scent and soak her in with all my senses. 

I wiggled a little more before I was finally comfortable and just kind of touched her with as much of my body as I could.  She was warm and soft and I found myself softly stroking the small of her back with my fingertips, brushing them back and forth in a soothing, rhythmic motion.  We stayed that way a long time before my fingers moved lower and slipped under the waistband of her panties to stroke the base of her spine just once before I stilled altogether. 

Her hand was still moving over my tense shoulders.  "Do you want to talk about it?" she finally asked.

Tell her I killed an old friend in front of his little girl while her mother bled to death in a fountain of gore?  No way.  It's impossible not to bring the job home sometimes.... but I didn't have to bring it home to her.  Not like that.  It was enough just to be held this way.  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "No, not really."  I was quiet for a while, just breathing her in and enjoying the feel of her arms around me.  Finally all her tender care seemed to catch up with me and I gave this big shuddering sigh.  It felt like every last bit of tension in me had drained away with it.  My body relaxed completely against hers.  And for the first time since it had happened, when I closed my eyes, I wasn't haunted by what I saw there.   

HEATHER

He snuggled deeper into my embrace and whispered something I didn't quite catch; a soft sleepy mumble against my breasts.  I could feel his lips move, could feel the most heat of his breath through my thin top, but I couldn't understand the words.  I couldn't tell if he was just talking to himself or if he'd meant for me to hear.

"Dean?"

"Hmmm?'

"You whispered something.  What was it?"

"I was talking to your heart."

For a man who so readily professed to being jaded, he had such a romantic soul.  I smiled into the darkness and stroked his neck lightly.  "What did it say to you?"

"It told me to trust you."  He paused.  "I do."  He pressed a gentle kiss to my chest and set his head back down, listening to the steady beat of my heart.  He stayed that way a long time and when he finally spoke again, his voice was heavy and slow with exhaustion.  "I'm going to scare you again, I think."  He murmured, nodding against me, almost asleep, but not quite.  Not quite.  "I love you, Heather," he whispered thickly. 

Shock and pleasure coursed through me simultaneously.  I held him a little tighter, smiling into his hair and whispered the words back to him, opening my heart as he had, but he'd already succumbed to the easy peace of sleep.  Despite his deep, even breathing, I wondered if there wasn't some part of him that had recognized my words.  The rest of his body was lax with sleep, but against my throat, I could feel his mouth turned up in a smile. 

[18 Feb 2001  Home] 

DINO

Warm.  Soft.  Safe.  That comforting touch of a sleep-warm body next to mine.  This feeling of being in a perfect rhythm together.  Something even beyond male and female.  Something deeper.  Some blend of breathing and rocking and this incredible feeling of being wrapped up, sheltered and safe from the world.  It felt so good.  A mix of that secure feeling you have as a child when you sleep between your parents and a more erotic, adult feeling.  A growing awareness of those triggers hardwired into us that fuel a masculine response.  Wet.  Hot.  Tight.   

Rocking for comfort.  Rocking for pleasure.  An instinctive drive to cover her.  Curls of base satisfaction at the feel of her under me, submitting.  Receptive.  So soft and open.  Grasping, squeezing, liquid heat.  More triggers.  Inborn knowledge.  Affirmation.  I am accepted.  Desired.  Worthy.  Humility twined with erotic possession.  Dominance....  She is mine.  Submission....  I am hers. 

Stark, graphic satisfaction.  A feeling of power.  Take me!  The softest entreaty, afraid the most secret longing of my tender heart will be refused.  Let me take you.  Waves of swamping pleasure and the beginning of the slow struggle to move up through them to consciousness.           

Wrapped in bliss.  I was reluctant to let the dream go.... but little details were beginning to creep in around the edges.  The scent of vanilla.  The tickle of hair on my jaw, catching on my stubble and sliding between my cheek and the pillow.  The soft rise and fall of her chest.  Awareness it was under mine.  Realization the warm velvety heat pulling me in deeper and deeper was no dream.

I left my eyes closed, afraid opening them would spoil this moment that was so different from what I'd planned for us and so much better than I could have ever imagined.  This wasn't about artful seduction.  It was about need.  At my most vulnerable, stripped of the barriers that protect my heart, I had reached for her and even in her dreams, she'd recognized me and responded instinctively, welcoming me into her embrace.  I felt so safe and loved and at peace, wrapped in her arms, cradled inside her body.

I smiled sleepily against her neck, still in that twilight place between dreams and wakefulness.  Neither of us spoke, but I felt her arms tighten around me and her hips tilt, rocking against me so sweet, inviting me to move.  My first conscious thrust.  It was exquisite.  A slow agonizing withdrawal, a pause with just the tip inside her to feel her heartbeat kiss my swollen head and then a deliberate inward push.  The pleasure was so intense it made my eyes water as she bore down while I pushed, increasing the pressure, stimulating me with her tight slick walls and this grasping flutter that made me think of a child nursing. 

I paused again, buried so deep inside her and just breathed together with her.  Felt that little flutter draw my tip right up against her womb.  She shuddered.  I thrust again.  And again.  It was this languid, unhurried, almost instinctual descent into pleasure.  Almost like it was happening without any conscious thought.  Our bodies speaking for us. 

But I am still a man and what was slow and sweet and gentle began to lose ground to a more urgent need to move harder, faster, deeper.  I wanted to feel her come.  To know I could give my woman pleasure.  To let her feel mine.  To finally give in to that irresistible primal urge to hold her right where I need her to be and just let myself go...

Ragged breathing into the early predawn silence.  A little creak of the bed when I felt one of her fluttering aftershocks squeeze my sensitive flesh and my hips juddered against hers in response.  I lifted my head from the crook of her neck and felt a warm start inside me at the expression on her face.  She was smiling.  Blissfully.

Her eyes opened and her smile got wider as she met my gaze.  No blush.  No hiding.  Just this warm private smile and this soft little noise in her throat.  "Mmmmm......."  She stretched against me and I felt a little trickle of come leak from where we were still joined.  "Good morning."

I smiled back at her but didn't feel any need to say anything.  Not hello.  Not good morning.  Not I love you.  No words could mean more than what we'd just shared-  were still sharing.  I flexed a little inside her and chuckled at the soft little gasp it drew from her.  So I did it again.  Heh.  I didn't feel like I had to be smooth or slick with her.  I felt safe to be myself without hesitation or reservation of any kind.  I love to laugh in bed with women, but I can only be goofy with the ones I really trust.  With the ones I love. 

She giggled back at me.  "Sleep good?"  It was a silly moment but very soft.  We were still very much caught up in this almost unconscious blending our bodies and hearts, and we had a care for what was still so new and fragile.  But there was a lightness; a sweetness in how we touched.   

I nodded and took stock of the situation.  The early morning light was just beginning to go from gray to peach.  We were cocooned under the blankets.  I suspected my boxers were somewhere jammed under the covers at the bottom of the bed and I hadn't the slightest clue where her panties might have wound up.  I don't even remember taking them off.  Her top was pushed up and her bare breasts were pressed against my chest.  I moved to pull it off her and felt my softening cock slip from her body.  She made this little whimper of distress at having lost me.  I knew just how she felt.   

Dropping her top over the side of the bed, I scooted back down to kiss her, feeling the wet tip of my dick tickle lightly over her belly before we snuggled back into this full body press.  With no small amount of cocksure bravado, I whispered against her lips, "Soon."  I wanted to make love to her again and again and again until neither of us could walk.  Right now, however, I was spent and all I wanted to do was hold her close to me, feel her breathe, lace our fingers together and kiss and touch.  God, I love that.  It's not sex I've been missing most of my adult life.  It's those little touches that tell you you're loved. 

We lay together a long time.  Until the sweat had cooled and we'd gone from wanting the covers pulled up over our cooling bodies to pushing them away as things slowly began to heat up again.  Her breasts were bare.  I had my hand on her side tracing her ribs leisurely while we kissed when this excited little voice damn near gave me a heart attack.

"DADDY!"

I turned my head in time to see this blur of Spiderman pajamas clutch his favorite stuffed animal in excitement and then launch himself at the bed shrieking, "Daddy!  You home!  You home!!"

A hundred feelings rushed through me in that moment, primarily relief.  My son.  Here was this whole, healthy, happy little boy who didn't look on me with horror or shrink from my touch or think that I was some kind of monster.  "I missed you, buddy."  Tears burned the backs of my eyes as he returned my hug. 

I felt something else, however, as he burrowed down between us and made himself comfortable, laying with his back to her chest and his face turned to watch me.  He reached out his arms and wiggled his fingers.  "Piggy....."  I handed over his stuffed pig and he wrapped his arm around it and put his thumb in his mouth.  His eyes started blinking sleepily and a few minutes later he was out.

While I was thrilled he was apparently fine with discovering me in his mom's bed and equally comfortable burrowing between us like he always did on the couch, I was a little uncomfortable.  It was hard for me to transition from a man with needs of his own to a man who's meeting a child's needs.  And it was a definite sexual first.  I liked seeing his little head pillowed against her bare breast but it felt strange as well.  The woman who had just brought me sexual pleasure was now bringing him a different sort of comfort.  It was hard to get over the idea that it really wasn't sordid to share this moment.  Especially since I knew she was still probably leaking me a little. 

But twined with that was this warmth in my heart that made my chest feel too small to contain it when I saw the two of them like that, snuggled together in my arms.  I had my arm over them both and we just sort of lay there, side by side, smiling at each other over his head.  I liked holding my family, all of us together this way.  Quite a consummation, really.  Like we were finally a real family for the first time. 

We lay there, whispering softly over him, playing with each other's hands and stealing these little sipping kisses.  I asked her about it.  How could she be so OK with it?

"OK?"

I nodded, softly stroking her fingertips with mine.  "Doesn't it weird you out a little to share a bed with both your son and your lover?"  My voice dropped to the softest whisper.  "When you're still wet with me?"

She laughed quietly.  "You never got in bed with your Mom and Dad?"               

Of course I had.  I was a pretty physically demonstrative kid too.  I blushed and admitted it.  "Well..... yeah."  Lots of times, actually. 

Her silly smile got a bit more inquisitive.  "You ever thought they might have just made love?"

For a moment, I was just struck dumb.  Thirty-eight years old and that thought had never once occurred to me.  Total shocker.  Men never think that way.  She saw my face and laughed.  I laughed too.  What a moment.  And then to apply it to my own life?  Amazing.  Truly amazing.  The man who had done damn near everything had never done the most simple thing of all. 

I thought back over all those time I'd climbed in bed with them.  I don't ever remember anything sexual even though my rational mind knew there had to have been.  I just remember how good, how safe, sleeping between them made me feel.  And suddenly, it no longer felt the slightest bit sordid.  It felt pure and clean and good even with the sexual undertones.      

It was sweet and silly too.  I had this stupid smile I couldn't wipe off my face to save my life.  She had one too.  We whispered and teased.  She's shameless.  Raised her eyebrows at me and said, "You know.... he's going to make a 'peepee' comment... bound to happen.... we're both nude...."

I smirked at her.  "Better now than an hour ago... it was much bigger then...."  Her mouth hung open for a moment and then she giggled.  See, I really am getting the hang of all this fatherhood intimacy stuff.

The day was amazing.  And sweet.  And hard.  And fun.  And long.  And did I mention hard?  God, just being home with them again, drinking them in was like recharging my batteries, filling myself back up with good things after the emptiness I'd felt in the wake of that last job.  The day damn near drove me crazy, too.  We'd gotten just the smallest taste of each other.  Hardly even awake for half of it. 

I love Andy.  I do.  And getting to cuddle him and play with him knitted back together some parts of me that had been deeply wounded by what my job required me to do in recent days.  But there was also this other part of me that couldn't think about anything else but how soon I could lay with her again.  The day was torture for me.  The best kind... but God, how it wound me up.

Right from the first.  Having to leave her in bed when Andy was ready to get up.  I know women.  I knew she'd want a bit of privacy and that Andy wouldn't give her any.  I hoisted him over my shoulder and marched down the hallway naked as a jaybird.  He squirmed to get down and grabbed at himself, dancing all around and talking about going to the 'big boy potty'.  Translation- my bathroom. 

He ran off.  I returned to Heather's room in time to see her standing by the bed with a trickle of my come running down the inside of her thigh.  It was hidden a second later as she swung a robe around her slender shoulders, but in that moment, it was all I could do not to drag her back down on that bed and make love to her again.  But then Andy was back, grabbing at my leg and telling me he went pee in the big boy potty.

I'm trying to grab my coat with the presents in it and he's hugging Boo, the piggy, and pointing at my dick. 

"See, Mamatu?  See!  Told you it was big!"  I blushed- and laughed.  'Cause really, what can you say?  The kid's right.  Heh.

The whole day was like this exquisite slow foreplay.  Every chaste touch of her hand.  Every accidental brush of her body.  Catching her eyes across the room.  Seeing the heat flare in them.  Seeing her fingers clench with the desire to touch me.  Feeling her hand on my shoulder as she put my plate on the table at lunch.  Stealing these little kisses from her all day long that ramped me up- and were both somehow too much and not enough.  By the time Andy went down for his nap, I was splitting out of my skin.

The moment he was asleep, we fell on each other in a wild frenzy of grasping hands and wet hungry mouths.  Kissing and biting and sucking, pulling at each other's clothes.  Wild for it.  Out of control.  Shoving her hair out of the way to get to her neck.  Feeling her little fingers frantic at my belt.  My hands on that gorgeous ass of hers, grinding her into me.  Touching her all over....

Fuck.  Fuck!  Had to slow this down.  This isn't what I'd envisioned.  We hadn't even really touched each other intimately or even seen each other or shared that kind of lovemaking all new lovers do; a slow sensual exploration.  That's what this should have been; would have been if Andy hadn't interrupted us this morning.  But denied that, the long wait had driven us right to the edge.  I knew she had to be tender from this morning.  I should have been mindful of that despite the fierce burning in my blood, not pinning her body between mine and the unforgiving door and turning the full force of my passion loose on her.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to still my hands.  I failed.  Her touch, the rub of her aroused body and the rough pull of her hands... it was too much.  I tore my mouth from her neck long enough to pant, "Slow down... we need to slow down..."  I was afraid I'd hurt her if we didn't.  I was too close to the edge.   

"No."  She jerked my shirt from my pants and ground her crotch into my leg.  Christ.  I was going to lose it.  "Fuck me."  She licked my jaw, nipped at my earlobe and breathed into it, "Just fuck me."     

I lost it.  Growled.  Bit her neck.  Hard.  I wanted to hear her whimper.  She did.  It was going to be hot and heavy and fast.  Jesus- so fast.   We were both wound so tight.  I was gone- but not too far gone to know I couldn't take her in this position without the chance I'd really hurt her.  She needed to keep her feet.  I spun her.  Roughly.  Ground against that sweet ass while my hands mauled her breasts and rubbed between her legs.  Opened my pants and pushed up her skirt.  She was begging me for it.  Keening in her throat and pushing herself back at me while I stripped off her panties.  Just as wild for it as I was.

I spit on my fingers and rubbed them over my tip, mixing it with the fluid already there.  I couldn't stop this- but I wouldn't hurt her.  One hand to guide me, the other to hold her hip.  Growled out to her to put her hands on the door while I planted my feet and pushed.  Tried to go slow. 

Even though we were more than wet enough, she still cried out.  I panted through the urge to just fuck and fuck and fuck.  "Too much?" I managed to grit out.

"Don't stop."

I didn't.  Couldn't.  It was wild and passionate and so fucking fast.  She shook.  So close.  She cried her pleasure against my palm and I gave mine up to her a moment later, grunting into the shell of her ear while my body hitched and shuddered.  I slumped against her back and held her with shaking arms, sweaty and weak.  I hated to pull out but I wanted to see her face. 

"Did I hurt you?" I whispered, parting from her only long enough to close my pants and smooth her skirt down.  The thought of my come trickling from her gave me an obscene amount of satisfaction.  Men.  We really are animals, aren't we?

She smiled softly at me and snuggled into my embrace.  "Only in a good way."  Her arms squeezed me.

"You sure?"  I used the last of my strength to sweep her up into my arms and carry her to the bed.  We lay there together, sweaty and disheveled.

Her little hand stroked my jaw softly.  "I wanted this."  She smiled.  I smiled back.  It suddenly struck me as funny.  Life, especially with a kid, never quite turns out the way you imagine.  We'd loved twice now and we still hadn't really seen or touched each other.  I teased her about it.  She teased back.  "Can you even last longer than five minutes?"

The male ego can be a fragile thing.  Coming from anyone else, I'd have been offended.  Coming from her, it was a sweet funny moment shared between two new lovers.  And the simple truth was that I'd wanted her too much to be able to control it.  And that I couldn't told me so much.  In all my adult life, that had only happened with one other woman.

I chuckled at her sass and kissed her.  "Hey, you couldn't either."  I'd made sure of that.  Both times, thank you very much.  She giggled and I slid my hand up under her skirt to cup her wet sex gently.  "I will next time, though.  I promise, honey."  Neither of us gave a tinker's damn that we hadn't waited as long as we said we were going to.  When it's right, it's right.  To be honest, I think I'd waited because part of me knew that once I had her, there would be no going back.  Once she had my body and my heart, I'd want her to have my ring and my name too.          

I kissed her fingertips, her nose, her lips.  "I want to go slow next time, sweetheart.  Take our time.  Learn about your body."  She blushed this gorgeous shade of pink.  "Learn what you like.....  Show you what I like.  Let you learn about me too." 

Her words were quiet and sincere.  "I wouldn't trade this morning or this afternoon for anything.... but I want that too.  Slow and soft.  I want to know you, Dean.  All of you."  She stroked my back gently.  It felt so good.

"When you're ready, honey."  I hadn't missed how she winced a little when my hand cupped her.  I might not have really hurt her but she was tender and bruised.  "Want me to run you a bath?" 

She sighed and buried her face in my neck.  "In a little bit.  I want to hold you for a while.  I'll take a bath later.....if you don't mind watching Andy?"

"Of course not."  Mind tending to him while she had a good long soak to ease the ache I caused in her body?  Not hardly.  To be honest, I've always kind of liked that- the notion that even though women were strong, they were also soft and delicate in ways a man wasn't.  That you had to have a care in how you touched them.  That the aftermath of this kind of lovemaking was different for them.  I liked the reminder that they were more fragile than I was.  That it was a privilege to touch them and be touched by them.  That I needed to look after her body in the same way she looked after my heart.  We were just as vulnerable, just in different ways. 

I smoothed my thumb over the faint bite mark I'd left on her throat.  "My girl."

I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud until she whispered back, "Yes, your girl."  I felt filled to overflowing... except that one dark corner where I'd put all my fears about what might happen if she knew the truth about the crossing.  And about me.  I was already thinking about rings.  I knew I needed to tell her soon.

Later, after her bath and a quiet evening with Andy, we found ourselves alone again.  Her smile was soft and sweet, lingering still from the gift I'd finally gotten a chance to give her.  The delicate filigree butterfly was made of platinum and had an amethyst body.  It could be worn as a pin, a pendant or a hair ornament.  That's how I'd imagined it, catching up the pretty fall of her hair, sparkling.  Catching the light when she turned her head.  She doesn't know it, but while she was in the bath, I called the store I bought it from and commissioned a ring; a platinum eternity band with that same filigree on the sides, set with amethysts not diamonds. 

And that was the reason for my smile.  Heh.

We sat on the couch a while, her legs over my lap while we talked over some wine.  When our glasses were empty, I asked her if she wanted to have a sit in the sauna with me.  She smiled back and this little blush stained her cheeks.  Man, I love that.

I chuckled.  "I didn't mean that..... I thought it might relax you."  I thought it might be a nice, intimate way to spend some time together.  I hadn't intended it be a prelude to sex.  Not tonight, anyway.  I stroked her cheek.  "You still sore, honey?" 

Her blush got deeper.  "Just a little.....the bath helped."  My eyebrows rose.  Combined with the wine and a long sit in the sauna, we just might have our slow sensual night after all.  I wasn't going to push her but if she wanted to, I certainly wasn't going to say no.  I'm no saint. 

We had our sensual night of lovemaking.  The sauna was the perfect way to ease into it.  She dropped her towel.  I dropped mine.  For the first time, we got to simply look at each other totally nude.  Nothing hidden by clothes or sheets.  That's all we did at first.  Look.  She sat on her side.  I sat on mine.  I just drank in the sight of her.  Obvious places first; the dark curls between her legs, the curve of her breast, the rounded swell of her irresistible little rump.  And slowly, other details.  The sweep of her back, the kiss of freckles across her shoulders, the scar on her knee, a birthmark I didn't know she had....

She looked at me too.  I made no effort to hide anything.  Saw her gaze come back again and again to my dick.  I looked down.  It had been a long time since I wondered how my body looked to someone else's eyes.  A bit weather beaten and scarred, but still fit.  Muscular.  Wiry.  The anchor, globe and eagle tattoo I got with my buddies after boot camp.  Another, smaller tattoo only a lover would ever find.  How the hair on my arms and legs was lighter than what was on my head.  How the hair at my groin was darker. 

I watched the soft flush of arousal on her cheeks get darker.  She watched me get hard.  Saw how I went from resting soft and plump against my thigh to filling with each beat of my heart until I was standing up thick and proud for her.  Such a vulnerable moment to share with a woman.  A feeling of pride and power infused with an almost desperate desire for the women we love to like our penis as much as we do.  So much of our self worth is tied to it.  It is both our greatest strength and our most vulnerable weakness.  Sometimes, no matter what our age or how jaded we are, we are that boy on our mother's knee again, wanting to know we are worthy of love and affection.

She made me feel worthy.  I teased her over to my side of the sauna.  Invited her into my lap.  We kissed and touched and she whispered into my ear, filling me up with good things while we slowly learned each other's bodies.  I cared for her as tenderly as I could.  Rubbed her back.  Massaged her feet.  Hummed and groaned while she rubbed my neck and shoulders.  Warm, supple, sweaty skin... kisses that tasted of salt and want.  It was a sensory experience of scent and taste and touch.   

Hand in hand, we walked back to her room.  My erection waned.  She peed.  Held me while I peed.  We laughed.  I told her Andy had better aim than she did.  She went to check on him and came back.  We showered together.  My erection came back.  We fell into bed, touching and kissing, drunk on each other.  I learned some of her secrets.  Gave up some of my own.  We shared our intimate little details.  We shared our souls.   

I learned her taste.  How it felt to feel her come on my fingers, on my tongue, on my cock while I looked deep into her eyes.  She learned my taste.  Learned which touches made me squirm and which made me groan.  We laughed and cried and loved and dozed and talked and a shared a hundred other things that made what we have special because they were only known to the two of us.  And that night when we finally slept, the Tinman and his battered heart felt safe.  And loved.