DISCLAIMER: Rizzoli & Isles and its characters are the property of Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro and TNT television network.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for the femslash_today's Green Beer & Kisses: The [Totally Not] Annual Porn Battle. Prompt: Perception. Thanks to the lovely Debbie for the quick beta.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To darandkerry[at]yahoo.com
A Win-Win Situation
It's all about perception, really. I wear a rough and tough persona and send out vibes that I'm not one for romance or the finer things in life, but nothing could be further from the truth. I love being wooed, but prefer to be the wooer if that's even a word and nothing in this world is finer than wooing Maura Isles. Maura Isles, smart, beautiful, a bit goofy at times, but comfortable in her skin. Even comfortable when hovering over my naked skin, while I, on the other hand, am more on the paranoid side, constantly looking over my shoulder and imagining that everyone knows that we're doing the horizontal and, on more than a few occasions, the vertical Mambo every chance we get. And who wouldn't? I mean, c'mon, she's a great 'dancer' and is extremely flexible and I do mean, flex-i-ble. She's shown me that a relationship can be spiced up with occasional, spontaneous hot, steamy sex; although, I still have a catch in my shoulder from the time we tried to 'blast to the past' and have sex in the backseat of Maura's car. Not all of us can bend like Gumby, though, and on cold and rainy days, I'm reminded of my failed attempt to contort myself into a human pretzel.
And no one would believe what a minx our seemingly sweet, professional medical examiner can be. Take today for instance: Maura's first day back after a week long medical examiner's conference that was subsequently followed by a three hour plane delay and a cancellation of our welcome home sleepover. She's been teasing me relentlessly all day long in her low-cut, way too short dress, constantly leaning over in an overly dramatic style and showing more leg and cleavage than should be legally allowed. She has even taken to calling me on my cell every half hour and purposely making me squirm, while I try my best to appear perfectly calm and collected in front of Korsak and Frost. I swear, if she teases me one more time
"I'll just be a minute, Jane, I've got to get another box of gloves," Maura says with a wink as she heads toward the supply room of the morgue. She tosses a sexy laugh over her shoulder and swings her hips back and forth in an exaggerated, almost hypnotic motion. I have to break the spell to catch up to her but, when I do, that little smirk she's been wearing all day turns to surprise as I march into her supply room, slam and lock the door, and back her into a corner, like a predator stalking its prey.
She just stands there, breathing hard and fast, a perceptible shiver causing the hairs on her arms to rise and her nipples to harden and strain against the fabric of her dress. My breath matches hers and we stare at each other for what seems like an eternity before we both shoot forward and come together like a house on fire. She's the tinder and I'm the flame. I spread my hot touch all across her skin, engulfing her in my barely controlled heat. I could burn her alive without ever scarring that soft, silky skin. I'm the one with the power now.
My hand slips under the edge of her dress and meets damp curls instead of the silk of her underwear. I go completely still. She's planned this, has set up this scenario, has been waiting for me to 'attack'. A smile against my lips tells me everything I need to know: she's pleased with herself and believes she's the one in control. She hadn't needed another box of gloves; she'd known I'd follow her. Sliding my fingers through pure silk, I plunge two fingers inside of her and press her against the wall. Her smile disappears, replaced with a hungry moan, and her grasp of the situation begins to slip. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she rides my fingers with abandon. The table has turned again.
With Maura more than adequately distracted, I carefully raise my knee and slide my free hand down to the top of my boot. I've actually practiced this off-balance move every morning this week, dreaming of this very moment but thinking it would take place against Maura's front door instead of the back wall of her supply room. I even made mental adjustments just in case Bass came 'running' to greet his mistress.
Adding a little thrusting motion with a slight twist, I meet her halfway. She's pleased with my active participation and rewards me by pushing her tongue into my mouth. I almost lose my concentration but gamely challenge her to a duel of tongues as I struggle to focus on my goal to reach under the hem of my pants and to the ankle holster fastened above my boot. Finally closing my fingers around my weapon, I slowly pull it free. The table is about to be turned on its edge.
The cylindrical object is hot in my palm, much like the grip of my gun always feels, and I grasp it tightly and steady my balance. Timing is of the essence and I successfully remove my fingers and press its rounded end against her opening. It only takes seconds for her to process the change and she releases my lips and pulls away. Eyes filled with pure arousal lock onto mine, but I wait for her to make the next move, even though I'm fully confident that she's more than wet enough for me to push inside.
She swipes her tongue over her swollen lips and nods; I ease inside, allowing her time to get used to the idea. Apparently she's already up to speed as she captures my lips again and jogs her hips, taking more of the dildo inside with a pleasurable moan. She rocks up and down, controlling the tempo and leaving me to act as official dildo holder and tongue receptacle. Tightening both my resolve and my grip, I push in deeper and charge ahead to take the lead in our new battle for tongue domination, upping the ante by increasing my thrusts. She locks her arms around my neck and wraps a leg around my hip in surrender.
Smiling in victory, I settle in to start on the more rigorous terms of our negotiations. There's no way either of us can lose.
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