The Miami Sofitel (9/?)
Title: The Miami Sofitel (9/?)
Author: SomewhereApart
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: R.
Summary: After the events of "The Deluca Motel," Calliegh gives Eric an upgrade.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight
As far as Eric was concerned, the elevator couldn’t rise fast enough. After an hour of mind-blowing, sweat-slicking sex, Calleigh had developed a sudden yen for chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. After discovering the hotel room service offered only chocolate, vanilla, and mint ice creams, Eric offered to make a run to the nearest store; Calleigh had smiled sweetly and agreed to stay right where she was and not move a muscle. He’d taken longer than he’d planned, though - he couldn’t find chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream in any store within walking distance, and he hadn’t taken the car.
Just about to give up and settle for rocky road, he had spied a cheesecake sampler gleaming like a beacon on the pastry counter of a local store. The perfect substitute, it had half-slices of eight different flavors - chocolate chip cookie dough included. Now he was antsy to get back to their room and nibble it off her naked body, bite by delectable bite.
Bouncing slightly with pent-up energy, he watched the floor numbers light up one by one. Three more floors, two more, one. Finally, the elevator dinged, and he trotted out like a horse from the gate.
He let himself into their room, greeting her with his best Ricky Ricardo. “Lucy, I’m hom-You’re not naked,” he deflated as soon as he reached the door, frowning when she laughed. When he’d left, she was fabulously naked, tucked under the sheets, and now she was in one of his t-shirts, legs still under the sheets, remote control in hand as she clicked through the channels.
“Very observant,” she teased, flipping off the TV and tossing the comforter down to the end of the bed, before scooting over to make room for him.
“You were naked when I left,” he pouted, setting the box of cheesecake aside and shrugging out of shoes, shirt, jeans. She watched attentively, head tilted slightly to one side, lips curved in a satisfied smile. How could something so simple make a man feel so Adonis-like? Maybe it was just that it was Calleigh, and that the look was so new.
“I was,” she mused, beckoning him, and grinning when -- now down to only his black boxer-briefs - he grabbed the box and settled on the bed next to her. “But then you took a while, and I felt silly laying here naked all by myself. What’s that?”
“I couldn’t find cookie dough ice cream,” he told her, and that beautiful face drew into a disappointed frown. “But I did find…” Eric pulled the box from the plastic bag and set it on his thighs. “A cheesecake sampler.”
Calleigh’s green eyes lit up and went wide. “Ooh!”
“And-“ He flipped the box open. “It has chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake.”
Her jaw dropped, one hand reaching over to trace the edge of the box almost reverently. “You’re a god.”
Laughing, Eric pointed out the rest of the flavors. “And there’s plain, and strawberry, and Oreo, and… fudge ripple, and white chocolate raspberry, peanut butter cup, and dulce de leche.”
By the end she was practically salivating, and he couldn’t resist ducking his head in to steal a kiss from her open mouth. She let him, leaning into the kiss and matching his enthusiasm - until the cheesecake box began to slide off his lap as he shifted. She wrenched out of the kiss then, quick as lightning, and grabbed the box before it plummeted the few inches to the mattress. Eric couldn’t help but laugh at her. “Wow. You’re really into that cheesecake, huh?”
“More like I don’t want to sleep on sheets that have been covered in cheesecake and gooey topping,” she corrected, steadying the box on his lap and the shimmying off the bed. The movement bunched her t-shirt until the bare curve of her ass was visible, and Eric smirked. At least she was still naked under the t-shirt. “Be right back.”
“First she gets dressed, then she leaves the bed,” he sighed overdramatically. “This night is going downhill.”
He heard her laugh from the bathroom before she emerged seconds later with one of the towels slung over her shoulder. “You know, you keep up the harping, I’m going to think you just want me for my fabulous sexual prowess.”
Eric burst out laughing, something about her brazen confidence making him feel light and damn lucky that she was his. “Hey, you’re the one who jumped me as soon as we got back from work.”
She draped the towel between them, then stretched out alongside it, catlike grin on her face as she nabbed the box from his lap and plunked it onto the towel. “Not my fault. You kept giving me that look all day.”
“What look?” Eric tried to look innocent.
“The ‘I want you right here, right now’ look,” she supplied helpfully, turning her attention to the sampler and mulling over her choices like she was planning a war-time invasion of enemy territory, not the annihilation of high calorie desserts.
Scooting down until he was even with her, and propping himself on his elbow, he murmured in that tone of voice that seemed to make her shiver every time he used it during sex, “Actually, it means ‘I wonder what she’d do if I bent her over the evidence table, stripped her naked, and licked her until she came.’”
She froze, jaw dropping open slightly, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught the way her thighs squeezed together just slightly. Gotcha. Green eyes flicked to brown. “That’s cheating.”
“Why? Because it gets you hot?”
“Yes. And you know it. Do we have forks?”
Damnit. He knew he’d forgotten something. “Uh, no. Sorry. We can call down to room service…”
She just shrugged and reached for the slice of cookie dough, nabbing a chunk from the end with her fingers. “No need.” When she popped it into her mouth and flopped onto her back to let out a satisfied moan, he grinned and shook his head.
“Looks like that gets you hot, too.” She looked at him, swallowing and then grinning back, nodding. “So… cheesecake and naughty talk, huh? What else? I’m still learning what makes Calleigh Duquesne all hot and bothered.”
“Oh no. No way. I’m not helping you. You’ll use it against me.” She reached over for another piece, snatching some of the strawberry and very nearly dropping the topping onto her shirt. He remembered his original plan to use her as a buffet plate and reached over to slide the t-shirt up her belly. Unfortunately for him, she had other plans, swatting his hands away. “Uh-uh. I’m eating right now.”
“I could be eating right now,” he pointed out, arching one brow suggestively and watching her blush just slightly.
“That would distract me from my cheesecake.” Speaking of, she was sucking the sticky strawberry juice from her fingers now in a way that went straight to his groin. “Besides you already did that. Twice.”
“I did, didn’t I?” he mused, all smug self-confidence. “I could do it a third time…”
“You could,” she agreed with a roll of her eyes. “But if we keep it up like this all week, I’m going to be so sore I do that wincing thing that is a dead giveaway to other women. And then we’d be outed, and it would get back to IAB, and-“
“Oh, alright,” he chuckled, tugging her shirt back down and reaching for the dulce de leche cheesecake. Their fingers bumped as she reached for the same piece, and he nudged hers away as he liberated some of the gooey-sweet dessert and lifted it to her lips. Smiling, she let him pop it in her mouth, but caught his wrist before he could draw it away. He watched her taste, chew, swallow, and then she tugged his hand back to her lips and sucked the caramel off his fingers, and Eric had to swallow hard. “If we’re not going to have sex again, you might want to stop that…” he warned quietly as she flicked her tongue against his fingertips.
Releasing his hand, she shrugged a shoulder, reaching out to nab a piece for him and bringing it to his mouth. “Play your cards right, maybe I’ll change my mind… After the cheesecake.” Eric savored for just a moment before swallowing the cheesecake and nibbling at her fingertips. “So… what turns you on?”
Eric swirled his tongue over the pad of her thumb and answered honestly, “You,” before working his way down to her wrist with slow, sucking kisses.
Calleigh rolled her eyes, but couldn’t quite hide the way her lashes fluttered as his tongue circled her pulse point. “Flatterer.”
“It’s true.”
“What else?” She tugged her arm away and sampled a piece of the Oreo cheesecake. Judging by the look on her face, it met her approval.
“Hmm… Thunderstorms. The way women-” he caught himself, and rerouted as he reached for more cheesecake. “The way you sound when you come. And sexy lingerie.”
She perked up a little at that. “Favorite item?”
“Of lingerie?”
“Yeah.” She reached for the raspberry now. She was really going to hit all of them before doubling back, wasn’t she?
“Garter belts. A thong, a garter belt, a sexy bra, and thigh highs. That’s the hottest thing after naked.”
“Really?” She was grinning at him now, in a way so devious he couldn’t help but prod.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just happen to own all those things.” She lifted a piece of the peanut butter cup, and he was almost too distracted by the image of Calleigh all tarted up in sexy skivvies to eat it. Her grin widened as he ate, and she shook her head at him. “Men. You’re all so easy.”
“Will you wear it for me?”
“Maybe.”
“Will you buy something special just for me?”
“No need. I have… more than enough.”
Eric quirked a brow at that, reaching for a chunk of fudge ripple. “Do you?”
“I do. I kind of… collect.”
“Lingerie?” Okay, that was it. She was officially the perfect woman.
“Mmhmm. I have a whole lingerie chest, totally full. Funny, it’s the one indulgence guys don’t tend to think is silly,” she mused sarcastically. “My shoe closet has been called excessive, but never the lingerie tower. Wonder why that is…”
“Because we men aren’t as dumb as you might think?”
“Maybe so.” She grabbed another piece, lifted it to his lips, and he decided that eating cheesecake by hand in next-to-nothing was a perfectly sexy way to spend an evening with Calleigh. God… Cheesecake. Near nudity. Calleigh Duquesne. Three things he never quite imagined he’d get to mix. This was turning out to be a really, really good week. He leaned in to kiss her, tasted the sugary sweetness of her mouth, hints of chocolate and caramel and peanut butter all lingering against his tongue. When she eased back a moment later and stretched, he had to busy his hands with another hunk of cheesecake to keep from tugging the t-shirt off her. “So, Eric Delko. Tell me something about you that I don’t know.”
“Like what?” He fed her this time, dangerous as it was to let her lap and nip at the hint of raspberry swirl clinging to his fingers.
“Mm… First kiss?”
“Megan Sevilla, on the playground. I was five. She was my first girlfriend.”
Calleigh snickered, reaching for another piece. “Oh yeah? Was it very serious, at five years old?”
“Oh, very,” he grinned. “We dated until first grade, and then she dumped me for Tony Rodriguez. I was very upset. We played marriage one day, and I was adamant that she couldn’t kiss Tony unless we got a divorce, and the Pope didn’t allow divorce.”
She laughed at him then, light and joyful, and Eric was sure she was picturing it in her head. Little Eric Delko all miffed that his playground wife was being unfaithful. “Oh, that’s adorable. Mine was Carter Mason at the tender age of six. During Sunday school, on Father’s Day. I was told it was very inappropriate to kiss in church and had to sit out while the other kids made macaroni frames for their dads. When Mom and Daddy came to pick me up and I had no frame, Daddy gave the Sunday school teacher a good talking-to. And then we went home and made three macaroni frames of our own. My dad even made my name out of macaroni on one of them.”
“Did you cry?”
“Oh, I bawled,” she smirked. “I wailed. I was so upset. I’d been talking about the special Daddy’s Day project since the week before - but wouldn’t tell my dad what it was. I idolized him back then. I mean, things weren’t always good, he was already drinking, but… I was always a Daddy’s girl. Still am, I guess.”
“Yeah. How’s he doing?”
“Good. Sober for a while now. We had lunch last week and it was… nice.” She was picking at the cookie dough slice again; apparently it was the favorite. “He keeps taking about trying to patch things up with my mom now, and…” She sighed, frowned into the cheesecake box. “It could either be really good, or a disaster. I never know. They’ve tried before, and it never ends well. Daddy drinks again, and she kicks him out again, and then he’s back in Miami, back on my couch until he can get settled, and then I have to go pick him up in the middle of the day or late at night…” She seemed to catch herself suddenly, shaking her head slightly and looking sheepish. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this.”
“I don’t mind.” He caught her hand, lifted her knuckles to his lips. “I love you, remember? That doesn’t mean I love all the nice parts and ignore the messier stuff. It means I love all of you.”
She… melted. It was the only word for the way her features slid from pensive and tense to soft and sweet, the barest hint of tears rimming her eyes. Her hand turned in his until her palm could cup his cheek, and she ran her thumb over his cheekbone. “Thank you. But let’s talk about something else.”
“Okay.” She pulled away, closed off just a little and it pained him. “Let’s stick with firsts. Virginity?”
“I was 18. A freshman. Danny Cannon, in his dorm room at Tulane. He came before me, so I… didn’t,” Calleigh smirked ruefully, popping cheesecake in her mouth, then offering him a piece of the peanut butter cup again.
“Oh, Danny,” Eric groaned, taking the cheesecake, then shaking his head. “Even at that age, he should’ve known that was a party foul.”
“Yeah,” she scoffed quietly. “We didn’t last long. For a long time I wished I’d waited.”
“For Mr. Right?” She’d never struck him as the type, but lately she kept surprising him. “Or just for someone who knew what they were doing?”
“For someone that would have stuck around past winter break.” There was no pain in her voice, but he thought that surely it had hurt her at the time. He didn’t believe that line -- ‘time heals all wounds’ -- but he supposed it must heal some, heartbreak included. “But my roommate dragged me out over Spring break with a bunch of her friends, and that’s when I met Adam, who was a junior and considerably more skilled in bed. We dated until he finished school and joined the Marines. Figured it would be too hard to stay together with him away, so we split up and stayed friends.”
“Still friends?”
“Mmhmm. He’s married now, has three adorable little girls. I get a Christmas card every year.” Strawberry next, and again, she just barely avoided getting topping on his white shirt. “Who was yours?”
“Alexia Reyes, on the beach. I was 16. I think it was better for me than it was for her,” he admitted with a quiet chuckle.
“Did she get hers?”
“After, yeah. I tried, but I’d never felt anything quite like that. Couldn’t hold out.” He caught her wrist, and tugged her hand over so he could suck her fingers clean. “I made it all the way the next time, though, so she forgave me.”
“I bet.” Calleigh shifted slightly, squirmed, and then finally sighed and tugged her hand away, tugging up the edge of the t-shirt to scratch her hip. “Itch,” she explained, tugging the cotton back down, but he’d spied something he wanted a better look at, so he moved until he was laying perpendicular to her, resting his head on her thigh and nudging her top back up. It pooled at her waist, revealing the tiny pistol inked into her hip.
Eric traced his fingertip over the tattoo, then pressed a kiss to it and rested his chin against her. “This is sexy.”
“Yeah?” she smiled, pleased, letting one hand cup the back of his skull, nails grazing back and forth over his scalp. A wave of goosebumps flared down his neck, but he fought the shiver.
“Mmhmm. Probably because I’ve known you had it for the last seven years, but never knew what it was or where.” He shifted so he could kiss it again, then trailed a line of kisses down the outside of her thigh, slow and lazy, and wet. “Mystery is sexy.” His fingertips grazed her inner thigh, from her knee up, but she pressed her legs together to deny him access.
“Mm. Girl’s gotta have some secrets.” Not discouraged in the least, Eric detoured his hand up over her belly, beneath her t-shirt, and she sighed softly before whispering an admonishment. “Stop that.”
“Why?” Eric pouted, before kissing his way back up the outside of her thigh.
“Because we’re talking. And I’m not done with my cheesecake.”
Still pouting, he shifted slightly, and left his head on her hip, fingertips still swirling low on her belly, but lightly and without intent. “Fine. Tell me something.”
“What?” She appeased him with a piece of the dulce de leche cheesecake, and he wondered how many of the flavors had already been decimated. He hadn’t really been paying attention.
“Anything. Something surprising.”
“I was almost married once.”
Eric’s brows shot up. Now, that was surprising. “Seriously?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Please tell me it wasn’t to Jake Berkely.”
Calleigh made a noise of disapproval that he was pretty sure was aimed at him, and shook her head. “No. Jake isn’t really the marrying type. It was Luis Pedroza, during my sernior year of college. He was Honduran, about to lose his student visa, and gay as the day was long. We figured it was only three years, we liked each other, why not?”
“A green card wedding?” Eric laughed, both charmed and thrown by the idea.
“Yep. I would have been Calleigh Duquesne-Pedroza. We were going to move to New Orleans, get an apartment and defraud the INS,” she smirked, doing that thing with her nails that he liked again. It made him want to purr like a cat in the sun.
“So what happened? You didn’t marry him…”
“No, I didn’t. His best friend - my roommate, Marni - got dumped by Tommy Seever. And Tommy was the only reason she hadn’t agreed to marry Luis in the first place, so I was off the hook. I did live with them in New Orleans for a year, though. And I was their maid of honor.”
"So wait-” Eric picked his head up and frowned at her. “You were the back-up wife?"
"I was,” she sighed, smirking. “I was the B Team."
"Wow. Ouch.” Eric let out a chuckle, amused by the way her belly tightened when he let his touch go whisper-light. He’d discovered last night just how ticklish she actually was, if you used the right touch. But she hadn’t laughed when he’d found the right spots, just hissed and gasped, and contorted, and trembled until he’d had to have her again, one more time before sleep.
"Yeah, I probably should have been more upset about that." She didn’t mean it, not if the way she was grinning was any indication.
"Well if it makes you feel any better…” He levered up slightly, so he could drape one arm over her thigh as well. “You'd be my first choice for a green card wife."
"No B team?"
"Definitely A team," he assured, and her grin matched his, but was a little more shy, a little more… “demure” was the word that came to mind.
"Who would be your B team?” she asked suddenly, snapping from tender to playful, with that glint in her eye he’d learned to both fear and love. “Valera?"
Eric scoffed and shook his head. "Hardly. Talia."
“You think she’d do it? I mean, you guys have a history together-“
“Which would only make things more believable to INS.”
“And also might make things a little awkward when you and I are having loud, obnoxious sex in the next room.”
That she was already including herself - and their loud, obnoxious sex - in the equation of his future made him a little happier than it probably should have, but who was he to complain? Life was good right now. Well, no, life was shit right now, but this? The two of them? This was good. This nearly made up for the other stuff. “Yeah. Might be.”
They fell silent for a minute, Eric pressing more kisses against her hip, and Calleigh studying the cheesecake selection again. A moment later, she gave up with a huff and a grunt. “Ugh. I can’t eat any more cheesecake. I’ll die.”
Grinning, Eric let his hand skim down her belly, trying to sneak between her thighs again. “Really?”
She laughed and clenched her thighs tight together, shoving lightly at his head. “Eric! What is your problem tonight?”
“I can’t help myself.” A single fingertip trailed down her thigh. “Can’t keep my hands off you.” And back up. “Let me make love to you again, Calleigh.” He kept his gaze on her, tried to look sweet and imploring. He’d begun to notice that it made her waver, made her give in a little sooner.
She sighed again, smiled, shook her head, and shifted onto her back. “Oh, alright. But we have to clean up the cheesecake first.”
“Check. Cheesecake clean-up. I’m on it.” He pushed up and made quick work of moving the nearly-empty box to the nightstand, balling up the towel and tossing it to the floor. He turned back just in time to get a mass of white cotton in the face, and he grinned as he tossed the t-shirt aside. And there she was in all her glory, Calleigh, naked as a jaybird and grinning at him. “You look delicious,” he told her settling on top of her and brushing a lock of hair from her face. “Better than the cheesecake.”
She wiggled her brows at him and looped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss and nipping at his bottom lip when it broke. “Let’s go slow, okay?”
“Too much cheesecake?” he teased, letting his mouth trail down her chin, over her throat.
“Yeah…” Her voice dropped low and intimate, palms coasting along his shoulders as she whispered. “And I like being close to you, like being with you.”
“Mm.” He was nibbling along her collar now, and he made a conscious effort to slow down, to savor. If slow was what she wanted… “Then we’ll go slow.”
Calleigh’s soft, pleased sigh was all the incentive he needed to keep the pace easy, and it was an hour again before they were done - might have been two, he couldn’t keep track. They lay together for a while afterward, sated and sheened with sweat, trading quiet kisses and whispered words until they succumbed to a sleep so deep and dreamless that neither moved until morning.
Author: SomewhereApart
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: R.
Summary: After the events of "The Deluca Motel," Calliegh gives Eric an upgrade.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight
As far as Eric was concerned, the elevator couldn’t rise fast enough. After an hour of mind-blowing, sweat-slicking sex, Calleigh had developed a sudden yen for chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. After discovering the hotel room service offered only chocolate, vanilla, and mint ice creams, Eric offered to make a run to the nearest store; Calleigh had smiled sweetly and agreed to stay right where she was and not move a muscle. He’d taken longer than he’d planned, though - he couldn’t find chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream in any store within walking distance, and he hadn’t taken the car.
Just about to give up and settle for rocky road, he had spied a cheesecake sampler gleaming like a beacon on the pastry counter of a local store. The perfect substitute, it had half-slices of eight different flavors - chocolate chip cookie dough included. Now he was antsy to get back to their room and nibble it off her naked body, bite by delectable bite.
Bouncing slightly with pent-up energy, he watched the floor numbers light up one by one. Three more floors, two more, one. Finally, the elevator dinged, and he trotted out like a horse from the gate.
He let himself into their room, greeting her with his best Ricky Ricardo. “Lucy, I’m hom-You’re not naked,” he deflated as soon as he reached the door, frowning when she laughed. When he’d left, she was fabulously naked, tucked under the sheets, and now she was in one of his t-shirts, legs still under the sheets, remote control in hand as she clicked through the channels.
“Very observant,” she teased, flipping off the TV and tossing the comforter down to the end of the bed, before scooting over to make room for him.
“You were naked when I left,” he pouted, setting the box of cheesecake aside and shrugging out of shoes, shirt, jeans. She watched attentively, head tilted slightly to one side, lips curved in a satisfied smile. How could something so simple make a man feel so Adonis-like? Maybe it was just that it was Calleigh, and that the look was so new.
“I was,” she mused, beckoning him, and grinning when -- now down to only his black boxer-briefs - he grabbed the box and settled on the bed next to her. “But then you took a while, and I felt silly laying here naked all by myself. What’s that?”
“I couldn’t find cookie dough ice cream,” he told her, and that beautiful face drew into a disappointed frown. “But I did find…” Eric pulled the box from the plastic bag and set it on his thighs. “A cheesecake sampler.”
Calleigh’s green eyes lit up and went wide. “Ooh!”
“And-“ He flipped the box open. “It has chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake.”
Her jaw dropped, one hand reaching over to trace the edge of the box almost reverently. “You’re a god.”
Laughing, Eric pointed out the rest of the flavors. “And there’s plain, and strawberry, and Oreo, and… fudge ripple, and white chocolate raspberry, peanut butter cup, and dulce de leche.”
By the end she was practically salivating, and he couldn’t resist ducking his head in to steal a kiss from her open mouth. She let him, leaning into the kiss and matching his enthusiasm - until the cheesecake box began to slide off his lap as he shifted. She wrenched out of the kiss then, quick as lightning, and grabbed the box before it plummeted the few inches to the mattress. Eric couldn’t help but laugh at her. “Wow. You’re really into that cheesecake, huh?”
“More like I don’t want to sleep on sheets that have been covered in cheesecake and gooey topping,” she corrected, steadying the box on his lap and the shimmying off the bed. The movement bunched her t-shirt until the bare curve of her ass was visible, and Eric smirked. At least she was still naked under the t-shirt. “Be right back.”
“First she gets dressed, then she leaves the bed,” he sighed overdramatically. “This night is going downhill.”
He heard her laugh from the bathroom before she emerged seconds later with one of the towels slung over her shoulder. “You know, you keep up the harping, I’m going to think you just want me for my fabulous sexual prowess.”
Eric burst out laughing, something about her brazen confidence making him feel light and damn lucky that she was his. “Hey, you’re the one who jumped me as soon as we got back from work.”
She draped the towel between them, then stretched out alongside it, catlike grin on her face as she nabbed the box from his lap and plunked it onto the towel. “Not my fault. You kept giving me that look all day.”
“What look?” Eric tried to look innocent.
“The ‘I want you right here, right now’ look,” she supplied helpfully, turning her attention to the sampler and mulling over her choices like she was planning a war-time invasion of enemy territory, not the annihilation of high calorie desserts.
Scooting down until he was even with her, and propping himself on his elbow, he murmured in that tone of voice that seemed to make her shiver every time he used it during sex, “Actually, it means ‘I wonder what she’d do if I bent her over the evidence table, stripped her naked, and licked her until she came.’”
She froze, jaw dropping open slightly, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught the way her thighs squeezed together just slightly. Gotcha. Green eyes flicked to brown. “That’s cheating.”
“Why? Because it gets you hot?”
“Yes. And you know it. Do we have forks?”
Damnit. He knew he’d forgotten something. “Uh, no. Sorry. We can call down to room service…”
She just shrugged and reached for the slice of cookie dough, nabbing a chunk from the end with her fingers. “No need.” When she popped it into her mouth and flopped onto her back to let out a satisfied moan, he grinned and shook his head.
“Looks like that gets you hot, too.” She looked at him, swallowing and then grinning back, nodding. “So… cheesecake and naughty talk, huh? What else? I’m still learning what makes Calleigh Duquesne all hot and bothered.”
“Oh no. No way. I’m not helping you. You’ll use it against me.” She reached over for another piece, snatching some of the strawberry and very nearly dropping the topping onto her shirt. He remembered his original plan to use her as a buffet plate and reached over to slide the t-shirt up her belly. Unfortunately for him, she had other plans, swatting his hands away. “Uh-uh. I’m eating right now.”
“I could be eating right now,” he pointed out, arching one brow suggestively and watching her blush just slightly.
“That would distract me from my cheesecake.” Speaking of, she was sucking the sticky strawberry juice from her fingers now in a way that went straight to his groin. “Besides you already did that. Twice.”
“I did, didn’t I?” he mused, all smug self-confidence. “I could do it a third time…”
“You could,” she agreed with a roll of her eyes. “But if we keep it up like this all week, I’m going to be so sore I do that wincing thing that is a dead giveaway to other women. And then we’d be outed, and it would get back to IAB, and-“
“Oh, alright,” he chuckled, tugging her shirt back down and reaching for the dulce de leche cheesecake. Their fingers bumped as she reached for the same piece, and he nudged hers away as he liberated some of the gooey-sweet dessert and lifted it to her lips. Smiling, she let him pop it in her mouth, but caught his wrist before he could draw it away. He watched her taste, chew, swallow, and then she tugged his hand back to her lips and sucked the caramel off his fingers, and Eric had to swallow hard. “If we’re not going to have sex again, you might want to stop that…” he warned quietly as she flicked her tongue against his fingertips.
Releasing his hand, she shrugged a shoulder, reaching out to nab a piece for him and bringing it to his mouth. “Play your cards right, maybe I’ll change my mind… After the cheesecake.” Eric savored for just a moment before swallowing the cheesecake and nibbling at her fingertips. “So… what turns you on?”
Eric swirled his tongue over the pad of her thumb and answered honestly, “You,” before working his way down to her wrist with slow, sucking kisses.
Calleigh rolled her eyes, but couldn’t quite hide the way her lashes fluttered as his tongue circled her pulse point. “Flatterer.”
“It’s true.”
“What else?” She tugged her arm away and sampled a piece of the Oreo cheesecake. Judging by the look on her face, it met her approval.
“Hmm… Thunderstorms. The way women-” he caught himself, and rerouted as he reached for more cheesecake. “The way you sound when you come. And sexy lingerie.”
She perked up a little at that. “Favorite item?”
“Of lingerie?”
“Yeah.” She reached for the raspberry now. She was really going to hit all of them before doubling back, wasn’t she?
“Garter belts. A thong, a garter belt, a sexy bra, and thigh highs. That’s the hottest thing after naked.”
“Really?” She was grinning at him now, in a way so devious he couldn’t help but prod.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just happen to own all those things.” She lifted a piece of the peanut butter cup, and he was almost too distracted by the image of Calleigh all tarted up in sexy skivvies to eat it. Her grin widened as he ate, and she shook her head at him. “Men. You’re all so easy.”
“Will you wear it for me?”
“Maybe.”
“Will you buy something special just for me?”
“No need. I have… more than enough.”
Eric quirked a brow at that, reaching for a chunk of fudge ripple. “Do you?”
“I do. I kind of… collect.”
“Lingerie?” Okay, that was it. She was officially the perfect woman.
“Mmhmm. I have a whole lingerie chest, totally full. Funny, it’s the one indulgence guys don’t tend to think is silly,” she mused sarcastically. “My shoe closet has been called excessive, but never the lingerie tower. Wonder why that is…”
“Because we men aren’t as dumb as you might think?”
“Maybe so.” She grabbed another piece, lifted it to his lips, and he decided that eating cheesecake by hand in next-to-nothing was a perfectly sexy way to spend an evening with Calleigh. God… Cheesecake. Near nudity. Calleigh Duquesne. Three things he never quite imagined he’d get to mix. This was turning out to be a really, really good week. He leaned in to kiss her, tasted the sugary sweetness of her mouth, hints of chocolate and caramel and peanut butter all lingering against his tongue. When she eased back a moment later and stretched, he had to busy his hands with another hunk of cheesecake to keep from tugging the t-shirt off her. “So, Eric Delko. Tell me something about you that I don’t know.”
“Like what?” He fed her this time, dangerous as it was to let her lap and nip at the hint of raspberry swirl clinging to his fingers.
“Mm… First kiss?”
“Megan Sevilla, on the playground. I was five. She was my first girlfriend.”
Calleigh snickered, reaching for another piece. “Oh yeah? Was it very serious, at five years old?”
“Oh, very,” he grinned. “We dated until first grade, and then she dumped me for Tony Rodriguez. I was very upset. We played marriage one day, and I was adamant that she couldn’t kiss Tony unless we got a divorce, and the Pope didn’t allow divorce.”
She laughed at him then, light and joyful, and Eric was sure she was picturing it in her head. Little Eric Delko all miffed that his playground wife was being unfaithful. “Oh, that’s adorable. Mine was Carter Mason at the tender age of six. During Sunday school, on Father’s Day. I was told it was very inappropriate to kiss in church and had to sit out while the other kids made macaroni frames for their dads. When Mom and Daddy came to pick me up and I had no frame, Daddy gave the Sunday school teacher a good talking-to. And then we went home and made three macaroni frames of our own. My dad even made my name out of macaroni on one of them.”
“Did you cry?”
“Oh, I bawled,” she smirked. “I wailed. I was so upset. I’d been talking about the special Daddy’s Day project since the week before - but wouldn’t tell my dad what it was. I idolized him back then. I mean, things weren’t always good, he was already drinking, but… I was always a Daddy’s girl. Still am, I guess.”
“Yeah. How’s he doing?”
“Good. Sober for a while now. We had lunch last week and it was… nice.” She was picking at the cookie dough slice again; apparently it was the favorite. “He keeps taking about trying to patch things up with my mom now, and…” She sighed, frowned into the cheesecake box. “It could either be really good, or a disaster. I never know. They’ve tried before, and it never ends well. Daddy drinks again, and she kicks him out again, and then he’s back in Miami, back on my couch until he can get settled, and then I have to go pick him up in the middle of the day or late at night…” She seemed to catch herself suddenly, shaking her head slightly and looking sheepish. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this.”
“I don’t mind.” He caught her hand, lifted her knuckles to his lips. “I love you, remember? That doesn’t mean I love all the nice parts and ignore the messier stuff. It means I love all of you.”
She… melted. It was the only word for the way her features slid from pensive and tense to soft and sweet, the barest hint of tears rimming her eyes. Her hand turned in his until her palm could cup his cheek, and she ran her thumb over his cheekbone. “Thank you. But let’s talk about something else.”
“Okay.” She pulled away, closed off just a little and it pained him. “Let’s stick with firsts. Virginity?”
“I was 18. A freshman. Danny Cannon, in his dorm room at Tulane. He came before me, so I… didn’t,” Calleigh smirked ruefully, popping cheesecake in her mouth, then offering him a piece of the peanut butter cup again.
“Oh, Danny,” Eric groaned, taking the cheesecake, then shaking his head. “Even at that age, he should’ve known that was a party foul.”
“Yeah,” she scoffed quietly. “We didn’t last long. For a long time I wished I’d waited.”
“For Mr. Right?” She’d never struck him as the type, but lately she kept surprising him. “Or just for someone who knew what they were doing?”
“For someone that would have stuck around past winter break.” There was no pain in her voice, but he thought that surely it had hurt her at the time. He didn’t believe that line -- ‘time heals all wounds’ -- but he supposed it must heal some, heartbreak included. “But my roommate dragged me out over Spring break with a bunch of her friends, and that’s when I met Adam, who was a junior and considerably more skilled in bed. We dated until he finished school and joined the Marines. Figured it would be too hard to stay together with him away, so we split up and stayed friends.”
“Still friends?”
“Mmhmm. He’s married now, has three adorable little girls. I get a Christmas card every year.” Strawberry next, and again, she just barely avoided getting topping on his white shirt. “Who was yours?”
“Alexia Reyes, on the beach. I was 16. I think it was better for me than it was for her,” he admitted with a quiet chuckle.
“Did she get hers?”
“After, yeah. I tried, but I’d never felt anything quite like that. Couldn’t hold out.” He caught her wrist, and tugged her hand over so he could suck her fingers clean. “I made it all the way the next time, though, so she forgave me.”
“I bet.” Calleigh shifted slightly, squirmed, and then finally sighed and tugged her hand away, tugging up the edge of the t-shirt to scratch her hip. “Itch,” she explained, tugging the cotton back down, but he’d spied something he wanted a better look at, so he moved until he was laying perpendicular to her, resting his head on her thigh and nudging her top back up. It pooled at her waist, revealing the tiny pistol inked into her hip.
Eric traced his fingertip over the tattoo, then pressed a kiss to it and rested his chin against her. “This is sexy.”
“Yeah?” she smiled, pleased, letting one hand cup the back of his skull, nails grazing back and forth over his scalp. A wave of goosebumps flared down his neck, but he fought the shiver.
“Mmhmm. Probably because I’ve known you had it for the last seven years, but never knew what it was or where.” He shifted so he could kiss it again, then trailed a line of kisses down the outside of her thigh, slow and lazy, and wet. “Mystery is sexy.” His fingertips grazed her inner thigh, from her knee up, but she pressed her legs together to deny him access.
“Mm. Girl’s gotta have some secrets.” Not discouraged in the least, Eric detoured his hand up over her belly, beneath her t-shirt, and she sighed softly before whispering an admonishment. “Stop that.”
“Why?” Eric pouted, before kissing his way back up the outside of her thigh.
“Because we’re talking. And I’m not done with my cheesecake.”
Still pouting, he shifted slightly, and left his head on her hip, fingertips still swirling low on her belly, but lightly and without intent. “Fine. Tell me something.”
“What?” She appeased him with a piece of the dulce de leche cheesecake, and he wondered how many of the flavors had already been decimated. He hadn’t really been paying attention.
“Anything. Something surprising.”
“I was almost married once.”
Eric’s brows shot up. Now, that was surprising. “Seriously?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Please tell me it wasn’t to Jake Berkely.”
Calleigh made a noise of disapproval that he was pretty sure was aimed at him, and shook her head. “No. Jake isn’t really the marrying type. It was Luis Pedroza, during my sernior year of college. He was Honduran, about to lose his student visa, and gay as the day was long. We figured it was only three years, we liked each other, why not?”
“A green card wedding?” Eric laughed, both charmed and thrown by the idea.
“Yep. I would have been Calleigh Duquesne-Pedroza. We were going to move to New Orleans, get an apartment and defraud the INS,” she smirked, doing that thing with her nails that he liked again. It made him want to purr like a cat in the sun.
“So what happened? You didn’t marry him…”
“No, I didn’t. His best friend - my roommate, Marni - got dumped by Tommy Seever. And Tommy was the only reason she hadn’t agreed to marry Luis in the first place, so I was off the hook. I did live with them in New Orleans for a year, though. And I was their maid of honor.”
"So wait-” Eric picked his head up and frowned at her. “You were the back-up wife?"
"I was,” she sighed, smirking. “I was the B Team."
"Wow. Ouch.” Eric let out a chuckle, amused by the way her belly tightened when he let his touch go whisper-light. He’d discovered last night just how ticklish she actually was, if you used the right touch. But she hadn’t laughed when he’d found the right spots, just hissed and gasped, and contorted, and trembled until he’d had to have her again, one more time before sleep.
"Yeah, I probably should have been more upset about that." She didn’t mean it, not if the way she was grinning was any indication.
"Well if it makes you feel any better…” He levered up slightly, so he could drape one arm over her thigh as well. “You'd be my first choice for a green card wife."
"No B team?"
"Definitely A team," he assured, and her grin matched his, but was a little more shy, a little more… “demure” was the word that came to mind.
"Who would be your B team?” she asked suddenly, snapping from tender to playful, with that glint in her eye he’d learned to both fear and love. “Valera?"
Eric scoffed and shook his head. "Hardly. Talia."
“You think she’d do it? I mean, you guys have a history together-“
“Which would only make things more believable to INS.”
“And also might make things a little awkward when you and I are having loud, obnoxious sex in the next room.”
That she was already including herself - and their loud, obnoxious sex - in the equation of his future made him a little happier than it probably should have, but who was he to complain? Life was good right now. Well, no, life was shit right now, but this? The two of them? This was good. This nearly made up for the other stuff. “Yeah. Might be.”
They fell silent for a minute, Eric pressing more kisses against her hip, and Calleigh studying the cheesecake selection again. A moment later, she gave up with a huff and a grunt. “Ugh. I can’t eat any more cheesecake. I’ll die.”
Grinning, Eric let his hand skim down her belly, trying to sneak between her thighs again. “Really?”
She laughed and clenched her thighs tight together, shoving lightly at his head. “Eric! What is your problem tonight?”
“I can’t help myself.” A single fingertip trailed down her thigh. “Can’t keep my hands off you.” And back up. “Let me make love to you again, Calleigh.” He kept his gaze on her, tried to look sweet and imploring. He’d begun to notice that it made her waver, made her give in a little sooner.
She sighed again, smiled, shook her head, and shifted onto her back. “Oh, alright. But we have to clean up the cheesecake first.”
“Check. Cheesecake clean-up. I’m on it.” He pushed up and made quick work of moving the nearly-empty box to the nightstand, balling up the towel and tossing it to the floor. He turned back just in time to get a mass of white cotton in the face, and he grinned as he tossed the t-shirt aside. And there she was in all her glory, Calleigh, naked as a jaybird and grinning at him. “You look delicious,” he told her settling on top of her and brushing a lock of hair from her face. “Better than the cheesecake.”
She wiggled her brows at him and looped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss and nipping at his bottom lip when it broke. “Let’s go slow, okay?”
“Too much cheesecake?” he teased, letting his mouth trail down her chin, over her throat.
“Yeah…” Her voice dropped low and intimate, palms coasting along his shoulders as she whispered. “And I like being close to you, like being with you.”
“Mm.” He was nibbling along her collar now, and he made a conscious effort to slow down, to savor. If slow was what she wanted… “Then we’ll go slow.”
Calleigh’s soft, pleased sigh was all the incentive he needed to keep the pace easy, and it was an hour again before they were done - might have been two, he couldn’t keep track. They lay together for a while afterward, sated and sheened with sweat, trading quiet kisses and whispered words until they succumbed to a sleep so deep and dreamless that neither moved until morning.