How Things Began (15/23)
Title: How Things Began (15/23)
Rating: M
Author: jlrpuck
Pairing: Ruby Quarles, Elias McCoy
Disclaimer: The characters contained in this story are the products of my imagination; as such, I retain all right to and ownership of them.
Summary: Welcome to the story of how Elias McCoy and Ruby Quarles met, and grew to became the characters we know.
Notes: Thank you to
ginamak for acting as a sympathetic listener and excellent sounding board as I frantically penned this tale (and for enabling my Elias McCoy love), and for providing the first crack at beta of it when it was done. Huge thanks, as well, to
earlgreytea68 and
chicklet73 for their beta work, especially given how utterly insane their lives have been these past months.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15
They made do by meeting for dinner and lunch, the meals passing with flirtatious glances and outrageous innuendo as both of them tried to make the other break first. He would end the dates with a soft kiss, driving her mad and invariably meaning she returned to her desk with her mind a thousand miles away; Wen, upon her return, would simply shake his head and tell her she had ten minutes to get her head together.
Elias continued to leave her notes as well, simple little things that made her smile each morning, usually telling her of something silly he’d seen during the night before. Two weeks after they’d slept together, though, he left her something different. “Pack a change of clothes for tomorrow.”
She frowned, then smiled. She had Sunday off; he must have arranged his schedule to have the day off as well. Her giddiness at the idea of sleeping with Elias again was tempered to some degree as Wen chose that day to tell her he was officially retiring, handing over his warrant card after thirty years of continuous service. “A month yet to go, mind, but expect things to be a bit quiet during that time.”
“Oh.” She swallowed, then smiled. “Congratulations on making it out, Wen.”
“Four weeks to go, but I’m looking forward to being able to sleep in of a morning. Miss working with you, but you’ll be fine-more than fine. Another few years, I reckon you’ll be DI and tormenting your own DC’s.”
She laughed. “You flatter me, Wen.”
He shook his head tolerantly. “How are things with Eph’s DC?”
“Lovely, thanks.”
“He treating you right?”
“I’d not be with him if he didn’t.”
“Good. He’s good for you.”
She blushed. “Don’t let him hear that,” she stammered, retreating to humour rather than face the feelings Wen’s observation brought forth.
Wen gave her a steady look, then shook his head once more. “Let’s get to work. I need to start figuring out who you’ll be able to stomach, once I’m gone, and I reckon you probably have a few ideas about how to get our hands on the suspect in the knife attack from the other evening.”
Wen made sure she was kept busy during the remainder of her shift, and through the entirety of her next one, with the result that it was a bit of a surprise when Elias appeared the next evening, his face bearing a hint of a smile as she looked over to him.
“Is it that late already?” She glanced to her watch, noting that it was even later than the time he’d agreed to meet her. Wen, she noticed, feigned intense concentration on the folder before him.
“Aye. You ready to be done?” The question was asked as much of Wen as it was of her, and she glanced over to the DI for his affirmation before turning to Elias with a smile.
“Looks like.” She shut her desk lamp off, saving the documents on her computer before shutting it down. “See you Monday, Wen?”
“I’ll be here.” He glanced up, giving her a peaceful smile. “Have a lovely day off.” He nodded at Elias, then returned his attention to the documents in front of him.
“Thanks.” Her change of clothes were in a rucksack tossed in the corner of her workspace; she grabbed it and her purse, gave Wen a final wave goodnight, and then followed Elias as he led the way to the lifts.
“Good day?” he asked conversationally, his hands in his pockets as they waited in the small lobby.
“Busy. You?” She’d learned he was trying to keep from taking her hand while they were still at work, an effort on his part to separate work and personal lives to some small degree. It still seemed that everyone knew that they’d started seeing each other; she ruefully thought their regular meals and exchange of notes had been noticed by people who made it their life’s work to notice things like that.
“Quiet. Ephraim’s plotting, I think.”
“Oh dear.”
“I’m not sure whether to be alarmed or not.”
“He’s been in as long as Wen, hasn’t he?”
“Longer.”
“You think he’s going to retire, as well?”
The lift arrived, the car holding several other people. Conversation was impossible, and it wasn’t until they were in the under croft, Elias leading the way to his car, that he answered. “He may. I’m not sure.”
“He’s just been quiet.”
“Yes. Which is very unlike him.”
“Perhaps he’s feeling a bit abandoned with Wen leaving.”
Elias hm’ed. “I’d not considered that.”
“Or perhaps he’s scheming to foist you off on some other, ill-tempered inspector.”
“I dearly hope not.”
She laughed. “No use worrying about it until you know what’s happening.”
“Sage advice. I’m glad I’ve kept you around.”
That earned a light punch of his arm, resulting in his reaching for her hand. “I thought perhaps we might enjoy a night in.”
“Oh, that sounds terribly dull.” She fought to keep a straight face as Elias turned to her, mischief on his face.
“Be under no misapprehension, my dear Ruby.” He stopped, turning, his body pressing into hers. “I have no intention of there being a single dull moment.”
He then blithely strode away, the mischievous look back when he turned to look expectantly at her. She gave him a slow smile, and moved to recapture his hand before walking with him to his car.
He lived north of the river, the neighbourhood bustling as people went out for the evening, several pubs lining the high street of the quasi-village. He pulled off into a small car park, earning a friendly wave from the man working the booth, but there wasn’t a non-commercial building in site.
“You live in a car park?” she asked, teasing, as she unbuckled herself from the car. He stuck his tongue out before getting out of the car, and had retrieved her bag by the time she joined him on the tarmac.
“I live a few minutes away. Thought we might pick up some dinner on the way back.”
“I get dinner with the deal?”
“I’m a bit more hospitable than some other places I’ve recently stayed.”
“Oooh, not nice.”
“It was an otherwise lovely, memorable experience. I’d stay there again.”
“In that case, perhaps you’ll be invited back.”
“I hope so.”
Her stomach flip-flopped at his look, and she gave their joined hands a swing. “What were you thinking for a meal?”
“There’s curry…”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not good if there’s to be kissing later.”
“There’s kebab.”
“Same.”
“Or there’s a market, where we could buy things that wouldn’t make for wonky kissing, and which I could then use to make dinner.”
“Let’s do that.” She paused. “Wait, you can cook?”
“I can do many things which you might not imagine.” He waggled his eyebrows, earning another laugh.
She felt a flash of nervousness when they finally reached his flat, climbing two rickety flights of stairs in an old Victorian building before coming out onto a slightly dodgy landing. The apartment itself, though, was a revelation, a gorgeous studio which clearly had been renovated within the past decade, the floor a lovely blonde wood, the walls holding large windows. It was very, very neat-almost alarmingly so-so it was a bit of a relief to spot the ugliest sofa she’d ever seen sitting in the middle of the room.
“Did you clean?” she asked as he closed the door.
“No. Should I have done?” He toed his shoes off, nudging them into line next to the other pairs of shoes by the door.
“You’re always this neat?”
He glanced around him, nodding. “Pretty much.”
“Extraordinary.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment.” His eyes crinkled in amusement, his hand reaching for the carrier bag she still held. “I’ll relieve you of those.”
“Then let me take my bag.”
He let it slide from his arm, and set it aside. “No need.” He shrugged out of his coat and jacket, tossing them across the sofa before helping her out of hers. “Care for a drink?”
He had a bottle of red wine-one of a few, a surprise given his apparent love of stout-and uncorked it before he worried about unpacking the groceries. Dinner was nothing fancy-some pre-packaged meat and veg, warmed on the stove-but it was still lovely of him to cook, and she couldn’t stop watching as he moved around the kitchen with the familiarity of someone who used it often.
It wasn’t until he’d plated their meals that he looked around him and realised he didn’t have a table.
“Is this alright?” he asked as he set the plates on the high counter separating the kitchen from the living area, walking around to sit on the vacant stool next to her.
“It’s fine, Elias.” She grinned at him. “I take it you’re more of a sit-and-eat-in-front-of-the-telly sort of bloke.”
“Guilty.” He shot her a shy smile, and turned to his plate.
She couldn’t resist gazing at the flat as they dined, sneaking looks at Elias in between noting how high the ceiling was, or how neatly his bed was made. The bathroom sink, incongruously, was in the room itself; and she felt her lips quirk in amusement as she noted the aerial hanging haphazardly from the telly. It was terribly neat, but it was still very much a flat occupied by a single man.
Elias finally drew her full attention, asking after her week; she was happy to talk to him about it, neither of them having had a chance for proper conversation even during their meals together at work. It was nice to have someone with whom she could talk about her cases, someone to listen and nod and ask questions which in turn helped her to think. Bruce did that, to some degree, but quite often they were so busy catching up on things outside of work, Bruce’s personal life providing more entertainment than many soap operas, that discussion of more serious matters often fell by the wayside.
They continued to talk as Elias collected the dishes, walking to the other side of the counter and rinsing them off as she continued to watch him. Her glass of wine was almost empty, as was his; he reached for the bottle of wine and set it before her. “If you’d like more-I’ll have some if you are.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Nope.” He popped the “p,” and grinned. “Shame to let the wine go to waste, though.”
She poured out the wine, distributing it evenly between the two glasses as Elias put the dishes in the rack to dry. He accepted his glass when she handed it over, gently clinking it against hers before taking a slow sip from it, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Did ye want dessert?” he asked as he set the glass down.
“What do you have?” She’d not seen him buy anything, and she began to have the sneaking suspicion that the very fit man before her had a secret sweet tooth.
“Biscuits, of course-I’m civilised, after all.” He opened a cabinet, pulling down a packet of chocolate coated biscuits. “And a spot of chocolate.” He pulled down a large bar, the open end neatly folded over; he apparently only nibbled on it, then. “Or ice cream.”
“Let me guess: chocolate.”
“Clever woman.”
“What do you usually have?”
“When I’ve been drinking?”
“Why not.”
“Ice cream.” He smiled, turning to the fridge and pulling a small container of the dessert out.
“Are you civilised enough to eat it out of a bowl every time?” She swirled her wine around her glass, then took a sip.
“Most of the time. Tonight, yes.”
He pulled two ludicrously large bowls down from the cabinet, then reached into a drawer for some spoons.
“Just how much ice cream do you go through in a week?” She gazed dubiously at the bowls before him, then the tiny ice cream container.
“Not as much as you might think.” He scooped a few spoonfuls of ice cream into one of the bowls and handed it to her, the vast expanse of white ceramic dwarfing the portion.
“I’m buying you some proper bowls tomorrow,” she murmured, glancing up at him in amusement.
“What you haven’t seen is that there’s a small dishwasher under this counter.” He tapped what was presumably the appliance in question with his knee. “Regular bowls are in there.”
He remained standing as they ate their dessert, his lean body relaxed against the counter opposite her, his sleeves rolled up so she could see the musculature of his arms as he supported the bowl with one hand and ate with the other. He, in turn, watched her, a small smile playing on his lips, his eyes growing delightfully dark.
She finished first, delicately wiping her mouth with the napkin before sliding from her stool. Elias paused as he watched her walk around to the kitchen, gently setting her bowl and empty glass in the sink, and his eyes were still focused on her when she turned, crossing to him in two steps.
“You done?” she asked, her voice low. He swallowed, setting the bowl aside even though ice cream remained in the bottom of it. She took a moment to push his wineglass back from the edge of the counter, and then leaned up to kiss him.
He tasted of wine and chocolate, a lovely combination; as her tongue flicked against his her hands slid between them, unbuckling his belt and unfastening his trousers. She could feel him growing hard already and paused a moment to cup him, giving a gentle squeeze. He lost track of what he was doing, his head dropping back, his jaw going slack.
Perfect.
She slid the zip down, dipping her hand into his boxers; and then she dropped to her knees before him, freeing his erection before taking him into her mouth, finally making real a fantasy she’d been having since they’d slept together.
He made any number of interesting and encouraging noises as she brought him to climax, her tongue flicking against his head, her teeth tormenting him in an echo of what he’d done to her in her own kitchen. She glanced up at one point, saw he had tilted his head forward and was watching her, his gaze hooded. Holding her gaze he brought a hand from where he’d been supporting himself against the counter, threading his fingers through her hair, encouraging her to go faster. His hand fell away as he came, his head once more tilting back and his jaw clenching, his breath gasping as she encouraged his release.
She finally released him, placing a soft kiss against his glistening head, then another along his shaft before pulling back. He reached down, tucking himself into his boxers as she stood; and once she was on her feet he reached for her, pulling her flush against him, kissing her until she thought she might faint from oxygen starvation.
“I’ll remember you like that,” she gasped when he broke the kiss, the words uttered between great gulps of air.
“I loved it.” He reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”
She didn’t think a bloke had ever thanked her for a blowjob before. “You’re welcome, then.” She smiled, shyness once again flooding her as he gazed intently at her.
He slipped his hands to hers, glancing down at them then bringing each one to brush his lips across her knuckles. He was different than he had been at her flat-much less take-charge, far more gentle, and she found herself nervous once again.
“Care to go to bed?” he finally asked, his voice low and warm.
“I would love to go to bed with you,” she replied, moving to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Can I change?”
His eyebrows rose, his expression bemused. “If you like. I’d personally planned on being completely naked.”
She smiled, the expression sultry now. “I expect I will be, too. But not to start.”
She moved to front door, kicking off her shoes-heels today, in expectation of seeing Elias-then picking her bag up from where he’d dropped it and moving across the room to the sink. “This the loo?” she asked, gesturing towards a door; he nodded, clearly curious. “’K. Don’t do anything without me.”
“I couldn’t, at any rate-need to recover.”
“More’s the pity.” She moved into the loo, fumbling for the light before closing the door. She stopped, gazing around her, never having seen a room quite like it. The entire space was tiled with the far back corner filled in with frosted glass bricks. She assumed they let daylight in-it was hard to tell, it being well after dark. The only things in the room were a small mirror, a toilet, and a towel rack. The shower head hung from the middle of the ceiling, with taps on the wall to the right of it; there was a drain in the middle of the floor.
She set the bag down carefully, not seeing a place from which to hang it, and slowly changed out of her suit. She’d been early to meet her friends for supper one evening earlier in the week, and had used the time to visit one of the lingerie shops near the restaurant. She hoped Elias would like her purchase, a cream silk-and-lace nightgown, something designed to be worn only before bed and not in it.
She emerged a few minutes later to find Elias had drawn the shades and turned out the lights. He had, charmingly, lit a single candle; it glowed on the nightstand, the light flickering as she opened the loo door and set her bag down just outside of it.
“Setting the mood?” she asked, making her way to where he lay in bed. He was, she assumed, naked; he certainly wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“You’re certainly one to talk.” He sat up, threw the duvet back and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was indeed, naked, the whorls of hair on his chest and his groin showing fully black as he stood in the weak light.
“I thought you might like it.”
“Oh yes.” He met her as she crossed to the bed, his hands sliding across the silk, then up into her hair. “Very much.”
He was almost painfully gentle as he made love to her that night, quietly watching as he moved within her, kissing her cries away as she came around him, stroking long and deep as he brought himself to orgasm. He kissed her further after he slipped out of her, his tongue delicate against hers, his lips soft. She thought she might cry with the gentleness of it all, and gave him a tremulous smile when he finally pulled back, his gaze serious.
“You alright?” he whispered, his fingers tracing down her cheek.
“Yeah.” She turned her head, capturing his fingers, kissing them. “You?”
“Best I’ve ever been,” he replied, his eyes focusing on her mouth.
“You’re sure?” She reached up, her fingers gently brushing against his mouth, tracing the line of his lips.
“I’m madly in love with you.” His eyes flicked to hers, his gaze serious.
She felt as though she’d just crested the peak of a roller coaster, her insides looping and lurching as if she’d gone suddenly weightless. And then she smiled, giddy, realising just how deeply in love with him she was.
“Good thing. I think I’m a bit mad for you, too.”
“Yeah?” His lips curved into a slow smile, his eyes filling with happiness.
“Oh yeah. Wildly so.” She pulled him down to her, whispering in his ear, “I love you, Elias McCoy. Ye mad bastard.”
He kissed her, his mouth far greedier this time, his lips and tongue demanding all sorts of attention from her. She was happy to give it, her hands roving over his body, her heart thumping along in her chest.
He finally rolled from between her legs, cursing as he realised he needed a new condom; she watched him, loving how he moved, even how he looked when vexed and, most especially, how he looked when he came back to bed, sliding up to cover her body with his to make love to her all over again.
They slept twined together, Elias’s arms holding her in a comforting embrace, her leg thrown over his. She was happy to find him still in bed with her when she awoke the next morning; she was even happier to find he was still asleep, and to wake him up by whispering “I love you,” against his skin, punctuating each repetition of the phrase with a kiss.
~ - ~
Chapter Sixteen
Rating: M
Author: jlrpuck
Pairing: Ruby Quarles, Elias McCoy
Disclaimer: The characters contained in this story are the products of my imagination; as such, I retain all right to and ownership of them.
Summary: Welcome to the story of how Elias McCoy and Ruby Quarles met, and grew to became the characters we know.
Notes: Thank you to
ginamak for acting as a sympathetic listener and excellent sounding board as I frantically penned this tale (and for enabling my Elias McCoy love), and for providing the first crack at beta of it when it was done. Huge thanks, as well, to
earlgreytea68 and
chicklet73 for their beta work, especially given how utterly insane their lives have been these past months.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15
They made do by meeting for dinner and lunch, the meals passing with flirtatious glances and outrageous innuendo as both of them tried to make the other break first. He would end the dates with a soft kiss, driving her mad and invariably meaning she returned to her desk with her mind a thousand miles away; Wen, upon her return, would simply shake his head and tell her she had ten minutes to get her head together.
Elias continued to leave her notes as well, simple little things that made her smile each morning, usually telling her of something silly he’d seen during the night before. Two weeks after they’d slept together, though, he left her something different. “Pack a change of clothes for tomorrow.”
She frowned, then smiled. She had Sunday off; he must have arranged his schedule to have the day off as well. Her giddiness at the idea of sleeping with Elias again was tempered to some degree as Wen chose that day to tell her he was officially retiring, handing over his warrant card after thirty years of continuous service. “A month yet to go, mind, but expect things to be a bit quiet during that time.”
“Oh.” She swallowed, then smiled. “Congratulations on making it out, Wen.”
“Four weeks to go, but I’m looking forward to being able to sleep in of a morning. Miss working with you, but you’ll be fine-more than fine. Another few years, I reckon you’ll be DI and tormenting your own DC’s.”
She laughed. “You flatter me, Wen.”
He shook his head tolerantly. “How are things with Eph’s DC?”
“Lovely, thanks.”
“He treating you right?”
“I’d not be with him if he didn’t.”
“Good. He’s good for you.”
She blushed. “Don’t let him hear that,” she stammered, retreating to humour rather than face the feelings Wen’s observation brought forth.
Wen gave her a steady look, then shook his head once more. “Let’s get to work. I need to start figuring out who you’ll be able to stomach, once I’m gone, and I reckon you probably have a few ideas about how to get our hands on the suspect in the knife attack from the other evening.”
Wen made sure she was kept busy during the remainder of her shift, and through the entirety of her next one, with the result that it was a bit of a surprise when Elias appeared the next evening, his face bearing a hint of a smile as she looked over to him.
“Is it that late already?” She glanced to her watch, noting that it was even later than the time he’d agreed to meet her. Wen, she noticed, feigned intense concentration on the folder before him.
“Aye. You ready to be done?” The question was asked as much of Wen as it was of her, and she glanced over to the DI for his affirmation before turning to Elias with a smile.
“Looks like.” She shut her desk lamp off, saving the documents on her computer before shutting it down. “See you Monday, Wen?”
“I’ll be here.” He glanced up, giving her a peaceful smile. “Have a lovely day off.” He nodded at Elias, then returned his attention to the documents in front of him.
“Thanks.” Her change of clothes were in a rucksack tossed in the corner of her workspace; she grabbed it and her purse, gave Wen a final wave goodnight, and then followed Elias as he led the way to the lifts.
“Good day?” he asked conversationally, his hands in his pockets as they waited in the small lobby.
“Busy. You?” She’d learned he was trying to keep from taking her hand while they were still at work, an effort on his part to separate work and personal lives to some small degree. It still seemed that everyone knew that they’d started seeing each other; she ruefully thought their regular meals and exchange of notes had been noticed by people who made it their life’s work to notice things like that.
“Quiet. Ephraim’s plotting, I think.”
“Oh dear.”
“I’m not sure whether to be alarmed or not.”
“He’s been in as long as Wen, hasn’t he?”
“Longer.”
“You think he’s going to retire, as well?”
The lift arrived, the car holding several other people. Conversation was impossible, and it wasn’t until they were in the under croft, Elias leading the way to his car, that he answered. “He may. I’m not sure.”
“He’s just been quiet.”
“Yes. Which is very unlike him.”
“Perhaps he’s feeling a bit abandoned with Wen leaving.”
Elias hm’ed. “I’d not considered that.”
“Or perhaps he’s scheming to foist you off on some other, ill-tempered inspector.”
“I dearly hope not.”
She laughed. “No use worrying about it until you know what’s happening.”
“Sage advice. I’m glad I’ve kept you around.”
That earned a light punch of his arm, resulting in his reaching for her hand. “I thought perhaps we might enjoy a night in.”
“Oh, that sounds terribly dull.” She fought to keep a straight face as Elias turned to her, mischief on his face.
“Be under no misapprehension, my dear Ruby.” He stopped, turning, his body pressing into hers. “I have no intention of there being a single dull moment.”
He then blithely strode away, the mischievous look back when he turned to look expectantly at her. She gave him a slow smile, and moved to recapture his hand before walking with him to his car.
He lived north of the river, the neighbourhood bustling as people went out for the evening, several pubs lining the high street of the quasi-village. He pulled off into a small car park, earning a friendly wave from the man working the booth, but there wasn’t a non-commercial building in site.
“You live in a car park?” she asked, teasing, as she unbuckled herself from the car. He stuck his tongue out before getting out of the car, and had retrieved her bag by the time she joined him on the tarmac.
“I live a few minutes away. Thought we might pick up some dinner on the way back.”
“I get dinner with the deal?”
“I’m a bit more hospitable than some other places I’ve recently stayed.”
“Oooh, not nice.”
“It was an otherwise lovely, memorable experience. I’d stay there again.”
“In that case, perhaps you’ll be invited back.”
“I hope so.”
Her stomach flip-flopped at his look, and she gave their joined hands a swing. “What were you thinking for a meal?”
“There’s curry…”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not good if there’s to be kissing later.”
“There’s kebab.”
“Same.”
“Or there’s a market, where we could buy things that wouldn’t make for wonky kissing, and which I could then use to make dinner.”
“Let’s do that.” She paused. “Wait, you can cook?”
“I can do many things which you might not imagine.” He waggled his eyebrows, earning another laugh.
She felt a flash of nervousness when they finally reached his flat, climbing two rickety flights of stairs in an old Victorian building before coming out onto a slightly dodgy landing. The apartment itself, though, was a revelation, a gorgeous studio which clearly had been renovated within the past decade, the floor a lovely blonde wood, the walls holding large windows. It was very, very neat-almost alarmingly so-so it was a bit of a relief to spot the ugliest sofa she’d ever seen sitting in the middle of the room.
“Did you clean?” she asked as he closed the door.
“No. Should I have done?” He toed his shoes off, nudging them into line next to the other pairs of shoes by the door.
“You’re always this neat?”
He glanced around him, nodding. “Pretty much.”
“Extraordinary.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment.” His eyes crinkled in amusement, his hand reaching for the carrier bag she still held. “I’ll relieve you of those.”
“Then let me take my bag.”
He let it slide from his arm, and set it aside. “No need.” He shrugged out of his coat and jacket, tossing them across the sofa before helping her out of hers. “Care for a drink?”
He had a bottle of red wine-one of a few, a surprise given his apparent love of stout-and uncorked it before he worried about unpacking the groceries. Dinner was nothing fancy-some pre-packaged meat and veg, warmed on the stove-but it was still lovely of him to cook, and she couldn’t stop watching as he moved around the kitchen with the familiarity of someone who used it often.
It wasn’t until he’d plated their meals that he looked around him and realised he didn’t have a table.
“Is this alright?” he asked as he set the plates on the high counter separating the kitchen from the living area, walking around to sit on the vacant stool next to her.
“It’s fine, Elias.” She grinned at him. “I take it you’re more of a sit-and-eat-in-front-of-the-telly sort of bloke.”
“Guilty.” He shot her a shy smile, and turned to his plate.
She couldn’t resist gazing at the flat as they dined, sneaking looks at Elias in between noting how high the ceiling was, or how neatly his bed was made. The bathroom sink, incongruously, was in the room itself; and she felt her lips quirk in amusement as she noted the aerial hanging haphazardly from the telly. It was terribly neat, but it was still very much a flat occupied by a single man.
Elias finally drew her full attention, asking after her week; she was happy to talk to him about it, neither of them having had a chance for proper conversation even during their meals together at work. It was nice to have someone with whom she could talk about her cases, someone to listen and nod and ask questions which in turn helped her to think. Bruce did that, to some degree, but quite often they were so busy catching up on things outside of work, Bruce’s personal life providing more entertainment than many soap operas, that discussion of more serious matters often fell by the wayside.
They continued to talk as Elias collected the dishes, walking to the other side of the counter and rinsing them off as she continued to watch him. Her glass of wine was almost empty, as was his; he reached for the bottle of wine and set it before her. “If you’d like more-I’ll have some if you are.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Nope.” He popped the “p,” and grinned. “Shame to let the wine go to waste, though.”
She poured out the wine, distributing it evenly between the two glasses as Elias put the dishes in the rack to dry. He accepted his glass when she handed it over, gently clinking it against hers before taking a slow sip from it, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Did ye want dessert?” he asked as he set the glass down.
“What do you have?” She’d not seen him buy anything, and she began to have the sneaking suspicion that the very fit man before her had a secret sweet tooth.
“Biscuits, of course-I’m civilised, after all.” He opened a cabinet, pulling down a packet of chocolate coated biscuits. “And a spot of chocolate.” He pulled down a large bar, the open end neatly folded over; he apparently only nibbled on it, then. “Or ice cream.”
“Let me guess: chocolate.”
“Clever woman.”
“What do you usually have?”
“When I’ve been drinking?”
“Why not.”
“Ice cream.” He smiled, turning to the fridge and pulling a small container of the dessert out.
“Are you civilised enough to eat it out of a bowl every time?” She swirled her wine around her glass, then took a sip.
“Most of the time. Tonight, yes.”
He pulled two ludicrously large bowls down from the cabinet, then reached into a drawer for some spoons.
“Just how much ice cream do you go through in a week?” She gazed dubiously at the bowls before him, then the tiny ice cream container.
“Not as much as you might think.” He scooped a few spoonfuls of ice cream into one of the bowls and handed it to her, the vast expanse of white ceramic dwarfing the portion.
“I’m buying you some proper bowls tomorrow,” she murmured, glancing up at him in amusement.
“What you haven’t seen is that there’s a small dishwasher under this counter.” He tapped what was presumably the appliance in question with his knee. “Regular bowls are in there.”
He remained standing as they ate their dessert, his lean body relaxed against the counter opposite her, his sleeves rolled up so she could see the musculature of his arms as he supported the bowl with one hand and ate with the other. He, in turn, watched her, a small smile playing on his lips, his eyes growing delightfully dark.
She finished first, delicately wiping her mouth with the napkin before sliding from her stool. Elias paused as he watched her walk around to the kitchen, gently setting her bowl and empty glass in the sink, and his eyes were still focused on her when she turned, crossing to him in two steps.
“You done?” she asked, her voice low. He swallowed, setting the bowl aside even though ice cream remained in the bottom of it. She took a moment to push his wineglass back from the edge of the counter, and then leaned up to kiss him.
He tasted of wine and chocolate, a lovely combination; as her tongue flicked against his her hands slid between them, unbuckling his belt and unfastening his trousers. She could feel him growing hard already and paused a moment to cup him, giving a gentle squeeze. He lost track of what he was doing, his head dropping back, his jaw going slack.
Perfect.
She slid the zip down, dipping her hand into his boxers; and then she dropped to her knees before him, freeing his erection before taking him into her mouth, finally making real a fantasy she’d been having since they’d slept together.
He made any number of interesting and encouraging noises as she brought him to climax, her tongue flicking against his head, her teeth tormenting him in an echo of what he’d done to her in her own kitchen. She glanced up at one point, saw he had tilted his head forward and was watching her, his gaze hooded. Holding her gaze he brought a hand from where he’d been supporting himself against the counter, threading his fingers through her hair, encouraging her to go faster. His hand fell away as he came, his head once more tilting back and his jaw clenching, his breath gasping as she encouraged his release.
She finally released him, placing a soft kiss against his glistening head, then another along his shaft before pulling back. He reached down, tucking himself into his boxers as she stood; and once she was on her feet he reached for her, pulling her flush against him, kissing her until she thought she might faint from oxygen starvation.
“I’ll remember you like that,” she gasped when he broke the kiss, the words uttered between great gulps of air.
“I loved it.” He reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”
She didn’t think a bloke had ever thanked her for a blowjob before. “You’re welcome, then.” She smiled, shyness once again flooding her as he gazed intently at her.
He slipped his hands to hers, glancing down at them then bringing each one to brush his lips across her knuckles. He was different than he had been at her flat-much less take-charge, far more gentle, and she found herself nervous once again.
“Care to go to bed?” he finally asked, his voice low and warm.
“I would love to go to bed with you,” she replied, moving to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Can I change?”
His eyebrows rose, his expression bemused. “If you like. I’d personally planned on being completely naked.”
She smiled, the expression sultry now. “I expect I will be, too. But not to start.”
She moved to front door, kicking off her shoes-heels today, in expectation of seeing Elias-then picking her bag up from where he’d dropped it and moving across the room to the sink. “This the loo?” she asked, gesturing towards a door; he nodded, clearly curious. “’K. Don’t do anything without me.”
“I couldn’t, at any rate-need to recover.”
“More’s the pity.” She moved into the loo, fumbling for the light before closing the door. She stopped, gazing around her, never having seen a room quite like it. The entire space was tiled with the far back corner filled in with frosted glass bricks. She assumed they let daylight in-it was hard to tell, it being well after dark. The only things in the room were a small mirror, a toilet, and a towel rack. The shower head hung from the middle of the ceiling, with taps on the wall to the right of it; there was a drain in the middle of the floor.
She set the bag down carefully, not seeing a place from which to hang it, and slowly changed out of her suit. She’d been early to meet her friends for supper one evening earlier in the week, and had used the time to visit one of the lingerie shops near the restaurant. She hoped Elias would like her purchase, a cream silk-and-lace nightgown, something designed to be worn only before bed and not in it.
She emerged a few minutes later to find Elias had drawn the shades and turned out the lights. He had, charmingly, lit a single candle; it glowed on the nightstand, the light flickering as she opened the loo door and set her bag down just outside of it.
“Setting the mood?” she asked, making her way to where he lay in bed. He was, she assumed, naked; he certainly wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“You’re certainly one to talk.” He sat up, threw the duvet back and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was indeed, naked, the whorls of hair on his chest and his groin showing fully black as he stood in the weak light.
“I thought you might like it.”
“Oh yes.” He met her as she crossed to the bed, his hands sliding across the silk, then up into her hair. “Very much.”
He was almost painfully gentle as he made love to her that night, quietly watching as he moved within her, kissing her cries away as she came around him, stroking long and deep as he brought himself to orgasm. He kissed her further after he slipped out of her, his tongue delicate against hers, his lips soft. She thought she might cry with the gentleness of it all, and gave him a tremulous smile when he finally pulled back, his gaze serious.
“You alright?” he whispered, his fingers tracing down her cheek.
“Yeah.” She turned her head, capturing his fingers, kissing them. “You?”
“Best I’ve ever been,” he replied, his eyes focusing on her mouth.
“You’re sure?” She reached up, her fingers gently brushing against his mouth, tracing the line of his lips.
“I’m madly in love with you.” His eyes flicked to hers, his gaze serious.
She felt as though she’d just crested the peak of a roller coaster, her insides looping and lurching as if she’d gone suddenly weightless. And then she smiled, giddy, realising just how deeply in love with him she was.
“Good thing. I think I’m a bit mad for you, too.”
“Yeah?” His lips curved into a slow smile, his eyes filling with happiness.
“Oh yeah. Wildly so.” She pulled him down to her, whispering in his ear, “I love you, Elias McCoy. Ye mad bastard.”
He kissed her, his mouth far greedier this time, his lips and tongue demanding all sorts of attention from her. She was happy to give it, her hands roving over his body, her heart thumping along in her chest.
He finally rolled from between her legs, cursing as he realised he needed a new condom; she watched him, loving how he moved, even how he looked when vexed and, most especially, how he looked when he came back to bed, sliding up to cover her body with his to make love to her all over again.
They slept twined together, Elias’s arms holding her in a comforting embrace, her leg thrown over his. She was happy to find him still in bed with her when she awoke the next morning; she was even happier to find he was still asleep, and to wake him up by whispering “I love you,” against his skin, punctuating each repetition of the phrase with a kiss.
~ - ~
Chapter Sixteen