She's everything I've ever wanted, and everything I never knew I could have.
"Hey yourself." Jesse looked up as I entered the room. She'd just taken a shower and I could almost taste the strawberries and cream body wash she loved so much. "Good night?" She questioned while looking me over from top to bottom for any sign of bruising or bite marks.
"All's quiet and no, I'm not in need of bandaging. Patrols lately have been quite." I smile at her when she looks up quickly with that 'Oops, caught!' look on her face. She nods and turns to the closet. I watch her slip off her bathrobe and she has nothing but a blue pair of underwear on. She stretches and I can see her muscles play against her tender skin. She chooses an oversized t-shirt, slips it on and turns back to me.
"Sleepie girl." She says in a baby voice then pouts.
"Keep it up with that computer, Jesse, and you're gonna need glasses."
"Oh, great. Just what I need to complete my geek ensemble." She runs her fingers through her hair and lets out a sigh.
That's my cue. I walk up to her, cross my arms and give her the once over. "If this is what geeks are looking like these days, then color me a groupie." She smiles and I envelope her in a hug. As I bury my face in her neck and drink in her scent, I wonder,
"How'd I get so lucky?" She finishes my thought for me.
I smile, pull back and kiss her lips lightly. "Divine providence? Other worldly intervention?" I shrug. "Doesn't matter. You're here, I'm here and-" My thoughts are interrupted by a yawn.
She grabs my hand and pulls me gently to the bed: our bed. "Come on. No one can save the world on less than eight hours of sleep."
We slip under the covers and I roll over to set the
alarm. 'Another fine day at the
Precinct for me.,' I think to myself then notice the time. "Jesse, it's only eleven and I don't have to
be in work till nine tomorrow morning."
She gets this look on her face, smiles and nods and I know I'm in for another one of those tests, but only without the bastards in blue checking off the sane and insane boxes on my psychological profile form. This one has to do with endurance.
We kiss haltingly. It's been a long time since we were able to get some quality time alone together and we're both so unsure of ourselves. She touches my face, my neck, and my breasts with the most tender of caresses and I sink more and more into her haunting gaze. She gives nothing away when we're intimate like this. Her face is fixed with calm concentration. I always thought Jesse approached sex like a chemistry exam. There's a little of this, a measure of that, timing is everything. I see a small measure of love there too, and caring. She lets her guard down sometimes and I can read her face and actions all too well after so many years of being entwined in each other's lives.
I've taken about all I can and I've been patient long
enough. My hand slips under the covers
and across her taunt stomach. She lies
there without movement, without sound.
My hand slips across the thin blue fabric covering her and, yes, I can
tell, I can feel what I do to her.
I tease her for a bit and she makes the slightest movements – telltale
signs that it's working, that she wants more.
My hand reaches under the fabric that bars me from her, bars my skin
from touching hers and she sighs contently.
I rub my fingers around the thin red hair she keeps neatly shaved. It's soft yet coarse at the same time. I love that – love the feel of her hair between my fingers. Love the fact that she's so attentive to parts of herself that I don't get to see very often, but revel in. I kiss her neck, her cheek, her lips and her forehead. I love her with something in me I can't define, but writing a dictionary on my love for this amazing redhead is furthest from my thoughts right now.
My finger slips between her folds and she stiffens against the pillows a little bit more – bracing herself for what's to come. As I massage her lips slowly, gently she matches my strokes with the smallest of movements. She's grown thick with desire and I know she won't last very long this time. I rub against her bud with my palm causing the right amount of friction before inserting another finger to the folds of her flesh. She's breathing heavy now and perspiration is forming across her brow and on her nose. I know she's close – so incredibly close.
My left arm snakes across the back of her neck and I nudge her left arm to hold onto me. I know she'll never hold on for herself – even if she wants to. I want her to know she's safe here – safe in the arms of one that loves her so very much. She grabs onto me and buries her head in the crease of my neck. My pace quickens just enough and I hold onto her tightly, lovingly . . .desperately.
She lets out a low moan and hugs me tightly, grabbing my hand and wrapping it around herself. "Okay, okay . . .I've got you." I whisper reverently.
As I hold her, the thoughts push themselves to the surface again. She's so vulnerable like this, giving me access to her body freely. Allowing me in – even if it's only for a little while.
"You okay?" I whisper into her red mane. She nods and snuggles down under the covers more. "Tired?" Another nod.
It's not too long before I hear the rhythmic breathing I've grown accustomed to falling asleep to. She's asleep now and I'm spooning her from behind. My left arm is under her pillow, my right one is snug around her waist and our fingers are entwined.
From the scant light that creeps in through the blinds, I can see the outline of her face. The freckles scattered haphazardly, her eyelashes pressed together, her lips slightly parted. It's moments like these when I wish that time would stand still. When I'm this close to her I feel like I'm split right down the middle – but in a good way.
See, there's a part of me that can't nearly get close enough to her. I feel like I have to have every inch of my body touching hers for fear of her melting away. Then there's this other part that just enjoys the calm and quiet and loves to watch her sleep. It's times like this when I feel so at peace with everything. I can literally feel this calm wash over me and I'm just so – still. And every bit of that is what tells me that she's the one. She's the one I'd go to the end of the line for, spend my last dollar on and quite possibly even die for. I love her so much that sometimes it hurts physically and I feel like my insides are drying up and turning to dust.
She shifts and opens her eyes slightly. "You okay?" I whisper. I just have to make sure.
I lean down close to her ear and inhale the scent that is deeply and forever burned into my heart. The scent that is distinctly Jesse. "I love you."
"I know." Her eyes close and she's back to sleep as suddenly as she woke up.
I know she knows but. . .she doesn't. Maybe she does but then again, I know she doesn't. She doesn't love me. Is that okay? Not really, but there's really not a lot I can do about it is there? She doesn't and I do and. . . there's just not enough love in this world to go around to everyone sometimes – you know? I keep on waiting for it all to just – get clear. Like one day for her to have this cosmic thought and for everything to fall into place and have everything suddenly make sense. But it hasn't. And probably never will.
I love her.
And she doesn't . . .love me.
But she's here; she's not going anywhere and has told me that time and time again. She's reassured me that this is exactly where she wants to be – right now.
I breathe in her scent just one more time before I drift off to sleep with thoughts of her.
She's everything I've ever wanted, and everything I knew from the start I could never really have completely.