3 comments/ 16059 views/ 20 favorites Worth It In The End Ch. 01 By: hopeless_romantic124 The alarm clock rang shrilly, piercing the sleepy silence. Grumbling, I rolled over to hit the snooze button. As soon as my room was quiet again, I laid back, reflecting on the dream I just had. Much to my displeasure, I couldn't remember any specifics... just the sensation of being incredibly aroused. It had been far too long since I had any encounter of that type in my dreams... hell it'd been a long time for that in real life. Frustrated in more ways than one, I ran my hands through my hair, staring up at the ceiling, which was rendered gray by the pre-dawn light. I really hated having to get up this early to go to school, but all of the apartments nearer campus were nauseatingly expensive. Sighing, I pulled myself out of the warm cocoon of my too-large bed and dragged my feet to the bathroom to wash up. After I showered and pulled on some clothes, I exited my apartment, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I had a meeting with my advisor first, followed by several small group sessions with students from a class I was teaching about the brain's reactions to different types of stimuli. Today was going to be a very long day, indeed. On the train to school, I sat staring out the window at the blurred cityscape. I had my earbuds in and zoned out to the Kooks. I tapped my foot and nodded my head to the beat, managing to erase all sensations left by the erotic dream. I had lulled my mind into such a state of calm that I barely noticing the man who sat down across from me and proceeded to watch me. His intent gaze slowly drew my attention, and I took my eyes away from the city and looked at him. His eyes were the first feature I noticed, as they were so trained on my face. His eyes appeared to be deep, deep indigo... or were they smoldering blue? I couldn't decide. His gaze disconcerted me, sending something a-flutter in my stomach. When I looked past his eyes, I noticed that he was incredibly handsome. His features were striking, something that belonged in the pages of a magazine and not in a dingy Chicago commuter train. He had light olive skin, dark eyebrows, a strong jaw line, and longish wavy black hair. After a few moments of staring at each other, I decided to ease the awkwardness and smiled at him slightly, hoping he would realize he was staring and look somewhere else. To my surprise, his eyes merely shifted down to stare at my lips. I blushed furiously and looked out the window again, determined to ignore him. For the rest of the hour-long train ride across town, he stayed resolutely in place, disregarding each of the many stops the train made. As the stops dwindled, I began to worry that he was headed for the same place as me. I fidgeted in my seat, crossing and re-crossing my legs, folding my arms protectively about my middle, and biting my inner cheek. As soon as the voice over the intercom announced the university's stop, I jumped to my feet and fairly sprinted to the exit. It was a good five blocks to the university from the train stop. I resisted looking over my shoulder to see if the man had followed me, shouldered my pack, and set off at a brisk pace. Switching off and pocketing my iPod, I turned my attention to the sounds behind me, trying to discern footfalls other than my own hitting the sidewalk. Much to my chagrin, I heard what sounded like expensive men's shoes following me at a clip. I looked around and noticed that my follower and I were the only ones on the street. I sped up. I jaywalked four of the five street crossings, and groaned inwardly as I approached the fifth and final one that left me across the street from the university. The street crossing ahead of me shone a neon warning not to walk. As I had jaywalked the other four, this was not what worried me. What bothered me were the tens of cars that zoomed by at what seemed like sixty miles per hour, with no breaks in between. I slowed to a stop at the corner, and heard the steps come up beside me. Bracing myself for the worst, I glanced to my right. Sure enough, it was the man from the train. Thankfully he kept his eyes on the road ahead of us and not on me. He was much taller than I imagined and, taking the opportunity to give him the once over, very well built. He wore a charcoal gray pinstriped suit that looked expensive and tailored perfectly to his frame, and carried a leather briefcase in his left hand, which did not bear a ring on the fourth finger. Being dressed so exquisitely, I figured him to be a high-powered banker or lawyer and wondered what he was doing at the university. With those thoughts in my mind, I looked back up at his face, and found him staring at me again, his eyes lit with amusement. Blushing again, I looked ahead at the street, and found the light had changed in my favor. I started across. All of a sudden, I heard the blare of a horn to my left. I looked over and saw a large, white van barreling towards me. The driver was panicked behind the wheel, frantically pumping the shot brakes. Frozen to the spot, I closed my eyes and awaited the sure-to-be-fatal blow. Something hit me around my middle and I fell to the ground. Everything went black. A few moments later, I came to. With my eyes still shut tight I took inventory of my body. Nothing was broken, my breathing was unencumbered, and the only pain I felt was where I had hit my head on the sidewalk. I opened my eyes and stared up into blue. It took me a second to realize that I was staring into the worried eyes of the man from the train, who I gathered had pulled me from the road just in time. I shut my eyes again, this time in disbelief, and raised my hand to my face. "Oh my God..." I managed to groan, my throat dry from the adrenaline rush. "What just happened?" "You were almost hit by a van... I pulled you out of the way," a soft, deep voice answered me. The tone was concerned, not the lascivious voice of a rapist. I opened my eyes and read matching concern written across his handsome features. "Are you all right?" "Oh... yes, thank you..." I said, slowly pulling myself into a sitting position. His arm came around my back, gently resting against my shoulder blades, helping me up. His touch was warm and disconcertingly familiar. I looked at him again, this time looking past his beauty to see if I recognized his features. I shook my head inwardly... there was no way that I wouldn't have remembered his face had I seen it before. Who is he? I wondered to myself. I was about to ask the same question aloud when he spoke. "Can I help you get anywhere?" he asked politely. He had a slight accent that was difficult to place. I stared at his mouth, wondering. However, his question reminded me of my meeting. I usually arrived on campus with just five minutes to spare, and had easily just spent half of that sitting on the pavement staring at the beautiful man before me. Startled from my thoughts, I glanced down at my wristwatch, and yelped at the time. I was going to be late, and Professor Beauchamp did not take lightly to tardiness, no matter how well reasoned. "Oh my God" I said again, this time with a touch more surprise. "Oh no, I'm going to be late!" I cried, and lurched to my feet. I stumbled, raising a hand as my head throbbed in protest to my sudden movements. "Easy there," the man said, rising up with me. I noticed his hand was still on my back, steadying me. Waves of warmth spread through my body, despite the chilly weather. "Where are you going? Are you sure you're alright?" "Yes. I just have meeting in that building," I pointed across the street, "in exactly two minutes. My professor is a stickler for punctuality. Thank you for saving me, I really appreciate it, but I do need to get going..." I said in a rush, and with a grateful smile started across the now safe street. "How convenient," I heard his deep voice from beside me. I looked up to find him smiling down at me. My eyebrows rose in question. "I have a meeting in that building, too." I stared at him, bemused. Convenient, indeed, I thought to myself. Now I might get to find out who you are. We walked the rest of the short distance in silence, his long strides easily keeping pace with my shorter, hurried ones. He reached the doorway before me, holding it open and smiling down at me again. I thanked him and hurried past. The breeze created by my rapid pace stirred up the air around him, causing me to catch a whiff of his cologne. It was a scent that I didn't recognize, and I immediately pinned it as expensive. It was delicate yet masculine at the same time, reminiscent of a caged animal; tamed and docile for the moment, yet still completely wild and unpredictable. It can only be described as making you want more. The thought caused me to consider the calm, visibly strong man walking beside me as a caged animal, and what he could do if he lost control... a shudder ran down by spine, and I halted the train of thought before I got carried away. Whoever created that cologne knew damn well what they were doing, I thought wryly. Soon, we arrived at my advisor's door. I looked up at him to find a slightly surprised expression on his face. "Ah, I see we both have the same destination," he said. The expression on my face must have been something, for he laughed, a chuckle that rippled up from his chest. "You look slightly less than thrilled." "I ... I am just surprised, is all. Funny coincidence, huh," I said, shaking my head. Remembering myself, I turned and knocked on the door. "Come in," my advisor's voice came from inside. I couldn't decide if he sounded angry, tired or neither. I braced myself for the barrage and opened the door. "Good morning, Sarah... come in, come in," Professor Beauchamp said without looking up from his book. However, upon seeing two figures in his peripheral vision, he glanced up, and smiled. "Ah, Stefan! You're early," he exclaimed with pleasure, rising to greet the man like an old friend. Stefan? I wondered, the name striking a cord. Where had I heard that name before? "Hello, Charles," Stefan said warmly, gripping Beauchamp's hand. "It's a great pleasure to see you again." I goggled at their familiarity. My curiosity about the man increased tenfold. "It is, indeed. Well, I see you already met who I wanted you to meet... in case the introductions haven't yet been made, this is Sarah. She's one of my best graduate students and the one you are going to be working with. Sarah," he turned to me, "this is Stefan Boussevic. He's, as you know, one of the top neuroscientists in the nation, and has agreed to come here to work with you on your thesis." Help me? I bristled. Somehow I had forgotten how to speak, but hopefully the expression on my face allowed my sentiments to be read easily enough. "I'm not saying that you aren't doing a fabulous job as it is... your work is splendid, I'm thrilled with what you're doing... I just wanted to give you a taste of what post-graduate work will be like for you. You know, working with those at the top of the field," he smiled at me. Suddenly, it dawned on me. The name finally latched onto something in my brain. "You mean... the Stefan Boussevic?" I stared wide-eyed at the man beside me. The Stefan Boussevic I knew of wrote the most outstandingly brilliant essays on the human brain and behavior patterns I'd ever read. Who knew an academic could be so... well... hot? Both men, to my relief, chuckled. "Yes, yes, the very same. This meeting was set up to introduce you, and to outline what exactly you would be doing together," Beauchamp explained. "Let's get started. Take a seat, you two..." he gestured to the two leather armchairs that sat before his desk. Two hours, five pages of notes, and three cups of coffee later, we stood and shook hands. I was completely blown away by Stefan and thrilled to be working with him. Beauchamp had outlined a plan for us to meet twice a week to discuss my thesis, which Stefan had already read and memorized. During the course of the meeting, I realized what a splendid opportunity this was. The fact that my Master's thesis would have Stefan Boussevic's name printed below mine on the title page was going to be a golden ticket into any PhD program in the country. I've got to remember to give Beauchamp a damn good Christmas gift I thought to myself, feeling a surge of affection for the old man. I exited the office on a cloud. "Sarah?" I heard a voice ask from behind me. I turned and saw Stefan coming towards me. Puzzled, I waited for him, thinking he had stayed behind to talk to Beauchamp more. He smiled as he caught up with me. "I was wondering if you'd like to get some lunch with me." I stared. "Lunch?" I echoed stupidly. "Yes, I thought it'd be nice to get to know each other better," he said, looking intently into my eyes. I shivered, remembering how he had looked at me that morning on the train. I wondered vaguely about that, but then remembered myself and answered his question. "Of course, that would be lovely," I said, and smiled at him. "Excellent," he said, his smile barely taking the edge off of the intensity. Worth It In The End Ch. 02 "So how long have you been working with Charles?" Stefan asked me, leaning toward me across the table. We were tucked into a booth at the back of a small Italian restaurant a few blocks from the university. I had never managed to get a table in this place before, and was vaguely amused at the way he had charmed the hostess into placing us at a table without waiting. This garnered a few hate-filled glares from other customers who had obviously been there for a while waiting for a table. I was delighted. "This is my second year with him," I answered, taking a sip of wine. A droplet escaped my lips, and I licked the side of the goblet to save the white tablecloth. I glanced up at him, wondering at his silence, and found the same look on his face that was there on the train, his eyes intent on my mouth. A knot gathered in my lower abdomen and butterflies broke loose in my stomach. Aw damn, and I was just getting used to being around him, I thought. Suddenly he seemed to shake himself, bringing his eyes back up to mine. A small smile graced his full lips. "You are very lucky to work under the tutelage of such a brilliant man," he said, his accent thickened by an emotion lurking behind the calmness in his voice. His voice was slightly hoarse, and the rough sound of it caused my abdomen to tighten further. I stared at him, my lips slightly parted, and watched as he took a sip of his own wine, licking his lips as he savored the taste. My eyes, just as his had been, were drawn to his mouth. I gulped. Thankfully, our waitress decided to arrive with our food at that moment. I tore my eyes from his lips and looked down at my hands. I thanked the waitress, and unraveled my silverware, taking care with placing the napkin in my lap. Why the hell am I so affected by him? Sure, he's gorgeous, but so are a lot of men. Granted, none of them look at me quite like that, but still... I thought to myself, shaking my head slightly to clear it of the encroaching fog of arousal. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at him. He was still looking at me with the same intensity in his eyes, only his lips were curved into a smile that made me wonder if he could read my mind. "Bon appétit," he said softly, raising his glass to me in a toast. I picked up mine with a surprisingly steady hand, and raised it to him. As I took another sip, I hoped the alcohol would serve to calm my fraying nerves. The tension was beginning to be unbearable, and I raked my mind frantically for something to say. Fortunately, he beat me to the chase, asking me about my thesis. I latched onto the subject, grateful for something to talk about that could not allow me to think of anything sexual. The lunch passed relatively uneventfully after that. His eyes became calm again, and so did my nerves. Conversation flowed easily between us. I discovered that he was a charming, interesting, and disarmingly funny man, as well as brilliant. He told me stories of his and Beauchamp's time working together in Switzerland, where Stefan was from, and even some about his college days in the same country. I found that he was only a year or two older than I, and found it amazing and a little unfair that he had managed to become so well-known in the field so quickly. Some minds just can't go unnoticed in the world. His was one of them. All too soon, the lunch was forced to conclude. I looked down at my watch and for the second time, yelped upon reading the time it displayed. I had my first small group session in just ten minutes. My record as a TA, as well as my thesis, needed to be spotless to allow for graduation and a successful application to a PhD program in the competitive field I had chosen, and so far I had never been late to a class. I looked apologetically across the table at Stefan. "You have to go?" he asked. The expression of sadness in his eyes made me wonder if he had felt the same connection as I had felt with him. However, duty called. No matter how badly I wanted to stay here and talk to him, I had to leave. "Yes... I have to go teach," I explained. I reached for my purse to get my wallet. "No, let me get this," he said, his big hand resting lightly on my arm, arresting my motion. The warmth spread through my body again, and the tightness returned to my abdomen. Damn, if he makes me feel like this with an innocent touch to the arm...I thought, but stopped the train dead in its tracks again. I had realized earlier that there was no way that I could allow anything but friendship to occur between us if he was to help me with my thesis. Even so, it would be impolite to refuse his offer. "Thank you," I said, smiling warmly at him. His eyes darkened and flicked down to my mouth, and back up to my eyes. Shit, he's got to stop looking at me that way, I thought. I gave him one last parting smile, and then grabbed my purse. "I'll see you later," I said, and got up and walked out the door. I felt his eyes on me the whole time. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As soon as I got into teacher mode, I was okay again. Having regained emotional equilibrium within the classroom, I managed to reflect on the events of the morning from an even keeled perspective. There was no question in my mind that the man I had met this morning was an incredible individual. He was intelligent, kind, funny, not to mention insanely gorgeous... and with that, very dangerous. Dangerous in the sense that I did not trust myself around him—at all. Fate had dealt an interesting hand for me in one of the most crucial years of my graduate school career. She tossed this devastatingly handsome man in my path right at the moment in which I needed most to be focused on the task ahead. Bringing the class back into order from talking about the quiz they had just taken, I finished out the hour answering their questions. This group had always been good at coming up with the difficult questions, so my brain had enough food to chew on without Stefan invading my thoughts. I was grateful for the respite. Sooner than I would have thought, it was time for me to go home. I exited the building, inhaling the brisk breeze that was the harbinger of winter. I wrapped my arms around myself, the breeze cutting through my thin sweater, and headed for the train stop. I looked forward to a quiet evening at home with my cat and books and some soup for dinner. After a day like today, I had a lot to think about. Stepping into the final crosswalk that separated me from my destination, I saw a familiar, be-suited figure leaning against the train stop. Thankfully, Stefan didn't appear to have seen me, as he was looking at something on his phone. I wondered vaguely if he had been waiting for me. However, as he looked up, I saw surprise splay across his features upon perceiving me. He pocketed the cell phone and waved at me. I returned his wave, and went up to him. "Fancy seeing you here," I said, giving him a smile. "Likewise. How was the rest of your day?" I searched his eyes for any sign of the previous intensity, but found nothing but polite curiosity. The image of him as a caged animal came back, and I blushed. "It went well. I taught my class, gave a quiz which they weren't very pleased about, and then answered some questions," I said. I was feigning my casualness. His gaze was gaining in depth, the restraints of the cage breaking, and as a result my abdomen began to quiver. I quickly looked away in case my body decided to melt right from underneath me. "That sounds like a very nice day, indeed," he said softly. "I had a similar day... gave a few lectures and met with colleagues. I miss this university. It's been far too long since I've been here, it seems." "I thought you went to college in Switzerland?" "Oh, I did. I did my post-doc work here, though," Oh great, so he's Dr. Boussevic already at the age of twenty-seven? "But I'm not one of those people who insist on being called by the prefix 'doctor' though... at least not yet. It still hasn't sunken in. I feel too young for that," he said, grinning at me. I found myself wondering once more if he was reading my mind. "Oh... I can see that," I said. As soon as I did, I felt foolish. To my surprise, he grinned wider, and then looked down at his wristwatch. "Our train is coming, I think," he said, looking around down the tracks. Sure enough, the long, gray commuter train rumbled into view. He paused at the door, letting me in first. As I stepped past him, I caught another whiff of his exquisite cologne. So sexy. I walked to the first available window seat and sat down, looking immediately out the window, hoping to distract myself from his presence. He sat down directly across from me. Thank the lord he didn't choose to sit next to me. I don't know if I could handle breathing in his cologne for an hour and a half. "I am so exhausted," I said, leaning my head against the headrest and closing my eyes. Well, partly closing my eyes. I watched him slyly from beneath my lashes to see how he would take my neck being bared for his inspection. Sure enough, his Adam's apple bobbed visibly as his darkened eyes slid down my neck. Ok, I decided, so he's definitely attracted to me. His stares weren't just out of morbid curiosity. The thought pleased me. I liked that this man who was so confident and sure of himself would feel disconcerted in my presence. "Are you planning a quiet evening in, then?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse. "Yes, I was going to curl up in bed and read until the words get blurry," I said, lifting my head up and smiling directly at him. I got a rather strained smile in return, and the pleasure of seeing his Adam's apple bob once more. "That does sound nice," he said, clearing his voice. That was the last thing he said about that, and so after a little bit I took my iPod out and plugged into the world of music. I must have dozed off, because next thing I knew I was being shaken awake by a gentle yet insistent hand on my shoulder. Woozily, I pulled the earbuds out of my ears and looked to see who had awoken me. It was Stefan. "Your stop is next," he informed me. He was sitting next to me now. For some strange reason I felt like leaning up against his broad chest and going back to sleep. The scent of his cologne invited me to do so. Contrary to my wishes, I sat up straight and put my iPod away, getting ready to get off the train. "Thanks for waking me," I said. "I would have been so pissed if I had to sit on the train for another hour." "I figured as much. So I will see you tomorrow then. Have a nice evening," he said. Again, as I stepped out of the train, I felt his eyes on me. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The next morning, I took the later train and slept in an extra two hours. I woke up feeling fresh and rejuvenated and decided to put some more effort into my appearance today. Out of my limited grad-student wardrobe, I chose a nice green v-neck cable knit sweater that highlighted my hazel eyes, and my good pair of dark wash jeans. I looked in the mirror and fluffed my long, brown hair so that it fell in its loose curls around my shoulders and down my back. I put the slightest bit of blush on my cheeks, just so that I would look pretty without seeming as though I was trying too hard. I am trying pretty hard though... but to do what? Stefan obviously doesn't need me to dress nicely to think I'm pretty. Oh well, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, eh? I shrugged at my reflection in the mirror, smiling lightly. I stepped into the train and sat down in my habitual place, put in my headphones, and zoned out. My thoughts were drawn to Stefan once more, and I wondered if I would see him again today. He wasn't on the train, so I figured he must have gone to the university earlier. I leaned back and closed my eyes, sinking down into the music. My day passed uneventfully. I taught one class, and then went to the library in the afternoon to work on my thesis. I headed up to the stacks and sat down in my usual study carrel. Working steadily, I wrote two pages. When I looked at my wristwatch, I found that three hours had passed. Woah, time for a break... I needed a couple of different books anyway. I headed down the stairs to the floor that held the neuroscience books. As I pushed to open the door, somebody on the other side pulled at the same time. I collided head-on with a very tall man, my nose pressing into his chest. I got a strong whiff of a familiar scent, and felt myself get light-headed. I stepped back rapidly. "Woah, I'm so sorry!" I said looking up at Stefan's amused face. I reached down to pick up the books that I had dropped. He stooped down to help as well, and I found myself nose-to-nose with his smile. "That's quite alright. I had just been wondering if I was going to run into you today. No pun intended, by the way..." he chuckled softly, handing me the final book. "Thanks for helping me with the books," I said as I straightened up. On my way up, I noticed that he was wearing another beautifully cut suit, only today had opted for a more casual messenger bag which was slung across his strong, broad shoulders. I bit my lip, wondering what it would feel like to be pinned beneath his strong body. Indubitably, my face was suffused with blush. "No worries," he said easily. I saw his eyes giving me the once-over. From the expression on his face, I gathered that he enjoyed what I was wearing. When his eyes met mine again, they were dark and intense. However, unlike yesterday, there was now a hunger in them. I immediately perceived that I had just become the object of his pursuit... more than just someone attractive to look at. I gulped at his stare. I suddenly became very aware of how alone we were. I sensed a subterranean shift within, and I realized that no matter how hard I tried to resist, it was futile. I found myself giving him back the same look he was giving me, finally allowing myself to undress him with my eyes. The air surrounding us fairly crackled. I watched, stuck in place, as his hand came up as if to cup my face, and then dropped. He seemed to shake himself mentally, and cleared his throat. "Well, I'm sorry I interrupted your passage into the library," he said, his accent thicker again. "No problem..." I said. I unstuck my feet from the ground and began to walk around him to the door, anxious to get out of the cramped corridor. "Hey... listen..." he said, and then broke off. I stopped at the sound of his voice. He ran his hands through his hair. The hallway was filled with the combined scent of his cologne and shampoo. It was intoxicating. "What?" "Do you... are you..." he took a deep breath. "Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?" I gaped. Was this really happening? Could dinner lead to... other things? I swallowed. "I'd love to," I managed to croak out. "Great," he smiled widely at me, visibly relieved. "Since it's almost six now, and it looks like you want to do more work, how about I meet you outside at seven thirty?" "That sounds lovely," I said. To my intense surprise, he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. When he pulled back, he wore an impish grin that said he couldn't help himself. "I'll see you then," he fairly whispered into my ear, his tone thick with suggestion. He was a lot closer than I remembered. His proximity made me shiver. Then he was gone. Worth It In The End Ch. 03 During the next hour and a half, needless to say, I got nothing done. After he left, I continued on in my trek to the stacks and even managed to collect a couple of books with surprisingly steady hands. I brought my books back up to my carrel and sat down with them still in my arms. My heart was beating frantically in my chest, and I wondered at the kind of power the man held over me. Sooner than I thought, seven thirty came along. I hurriedly stuffed my books into my bag and went downstairs. Sure enough, he was waiting for me outside, leaning against one of the columns. I took the opportunity to stare at him. Now that I had allowed myself to think about him sexually, I was able to fully appreciate his beauty. As he leaned against the column, he allowed his head to rest back and his eyes to close. I saw the shadow of dark, full lashes, and shivered, imagining the heat locked inside the hidden indigo eyes. His shoulders, even in his relaxed pose, were broad and strong. If his tailored suit coat was any indication, his broad shoulders tapered into narrow hips. His legs were long, and even underneath the layer of clothing I could discern the power of his thighs. How I was going to manage to keep my hands off him this entire evening, I wasn't so sure. I took a deep breath and opened the door. He lifted his head as soon as he heard the door opening, and smiled at me, the heat already in his eyes. I wondered if it had even left, or if he had been stewing in his own arousal just like I had. "Ready?" he asked. "Yes, absolutely," I answered. In more ways than one...I thought. He offered his arm to me old-fashioned like. I took hold of his elbow, and we set off. He took me to a restaurant in downtown Chicago, a place I couldn't afford to visit very often. The conversation flowed smoothly as ever over the delicious pasta and red wine. It was different than lunch the previous day. This time, it seemed as though we had both come to terms with the intense mutual attraction we had for the other (or at least I had come to terms with how I felt towards him) and we allowed that aspect of the evening to simmer just out of reach. Every so often, when one of us was taking a bite of pasta or a sip of wine, the other's eyes would linger on the lips just a little too long, and the gaze would turn smoldering. The fourth time this occurred, I began to wonder if he was teasing me on purpose. The louse, I thought with pleasure. And then the conversation shifted. "So I don't know if you remember it," he began, "but I wish to explain my behavior on the train yesterday morning." I stared. I didn't think that rock was going to be turned over for a long while. I waited. "I just... saw you sitting there, and I was... intrigued by you... to say the least. I'm very sorry if I frightened you." "You didn't frighten me... much. I'd just never had someone look at me quite that way before... especially not on the train," I said, smiling at him to ease the tension written across his features. Crap, his eyes went to my mouth again, but this time they didn't stop there. By the time his eyes made it back to mine, the intensity was unfathomable. He heaved a deep sigh. It appeared as though he was trying to keep himself from pushing the table aside and attacking me. "I've tried to control how I feel, but I can't... you are so beautiful," he said, his voice softening hoarsely at the last part of the sentence. I gulped. "I apologize again, for coming on too strong. I just wanted to see if I was misreading the signals that I picked up... the ones that passed between our eyes while our mouths were speaking about inane things. I like to think I'm pretty good at reading people, but I just can't be sure enough this time." That was unexpected. I cleared my throat and pulled a lock of hair behind my ear. Looking into his eyes, I tried to discern any malicious intent there, any sign of an axe murderer lurking behind the genteel facade. However, unsurprisingly, I found nothing there but fear at being rejected, and... lust. "You didn't misread me," I answered, my voice just above a whisper. He heard me perfectly, though, and smiled in relief. After that, the conversation continued on two levels. I noticed that he was not as covert with his lustful looks, and his stares excited me beyond belief. In the end we were, as he said, carrying two conversations. The one going on vocally was about our childhood dreams and current goals, what kind of household we grew up in, what our parents did, how we spent our summers... things people talk about when getting to know one another. The conversation going on between us physically... that was something else entirely. The looks said, "I am imagining you naked right now." The accidental touches of our knees beneath the table said "I can't wait to feel your skin against mine." The way we teased each other while eating or drinking said "I know you wish my mouth was on you right now." By the end of the meal, I was quivering with desire. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He paid the check again, and took my hand as we left the restaurant. I was thrilled by the way my hand fit inside of his large one. The conversation stilled into companionable silence as we strolled through the busy streets of the city at night. I glanced at my wristwatch and was surprised to find that it was nearly eleven o'clock. By unspoken agreement, we were headed towards the train station. The station, for being on such a busy street, was deserted. The train wasn't due for another ten minutes or so, but having lived in Chicago for a while now, I knew that was highly subjective. We talked about music for a while, discussing our likes and dislikes and what was wrong with the music played on the popular stations today. Suddenly, as I was laughing at something he had said, he pulled me forward by the hand, causing me to fall against his chest. My laughter was quelled immediately, snuffed out by his mouth on mine. It all happened so suddenly that I barely had time to react... mentally, that is. As his lips skillfully played mine, I freed my hand from his and ran both up his shoulders and into his hair. Once my hands were secured in his locks, I was determined to press myself against him as closely as I could. As soon as the full length of his body came into contact with mine, all of the nerve endings on my skin flared. I felt myself being walked backwards, and suddenly I was against the brick wall of the station, his hands on either side of me. The stiff pole pressing into my stomach surprised me, and I let out a soft, involuntary moan. He reciprocated by deepening the kiss, using his tongue to coax open my mouth, and then engaging our tongues in a sensual dance. I let my hands slip from his hair, down his back, and beneath his suit jacket. I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him harder against me. My fingers traced the valley that ran down his muscular back. Now it was his turn to moan into my mouth. The sound electrified me. Suddenly, both of his hands found their way to my hips, and were pulling me roughly against him. His knee slid in between my legs, pushing my pussy against his hard thigh. His mouth broke contact with mine and left a trail of wet kisses along my jaw line and down the sensitive side of my neck. Somehow, he knew exactly where my erogenous zones were, and he used his warm mouth on them skillfully. Needless to say I was soaked and panting by the time he released me. Sooner than I would have thought (or liked), the train rumbled into the station. With a final searing kiss, he pulled himself from me and me from the wall. My legs shook like jelly. He chuckled, and wrapped his arm tightly around my waist to hold me up and help me into the train. "Sorry about that," he said softly into my ear as soon as we were seated. "I just couldn't help myself. You look so beautiful when you laugh." I could hear the smile in his voice. "Trust me, you don't need to apologize for anything," I said shakily. He chuckled, and tightened his arm around me. "That's good. I wouldn't want to have to keep saying I'm sorry... it would get in the way this evening, wouldn't you agree?" he asked, his tone positively silky. I could only nod mutely in reply. How could this man have such a strong effect on me so soon? How could I be contemplating... no, screw contemplation... how could I take him to my apartment after only having known him for two days? Thoughts of my disastrous last relationship surfaced, uninvited, in my mind. I fought the thoughts, convincing myself that one night didn't mean I was going to begin a relationship with this beautiful man. Pushing away all of the thoughts rolling around in my head, I could only accept that this was the way life was sometimes. Life throws all manner of strange things at us, and all we can do is decide how to react in the moment. In this case, I was going to react the way my body obviously wanted me to. Not only my body, I thought wryly, eyeing the area on his leg where his thigh was thicker. I smiled to myself, enjoying the fact that I seemed to have an effect on him as well. The train ride to my apartment was silent as we both tried to collect our thoughts and wits. The only evidence of his frayed nerves was his quickened breathing and the distracted tapping of his foot. Other than that, his face was completely calm and his pose was nonchalant, his left arm draped casually around my shoulders and his ankle propped on his knee. I leaned into his chest, inhaling his fragrance deeply, and felt an answering twinge in my abdomen. So much for cooling off on the train ride, I thought. Just to see if I could shake it up a little, I decided to rest my hand on his inner thigh and gave it a light squeeze, right over his engorged cock. I grinned wider as his hand clenched tightly on my shoulder and he gasped sharply. He pressed his face into my hair, groaning slightly in his exhalation. "What are you trying to do, make me disgrace myself in public?" he growled into my ear. "Of course not!" I said coyly. "I was just giving you a friendly pat." "Friendly pat, my ass..." he grumbled, pulling me closer. I entertained the idea of doing something to tease him further, but decided against it as more people entered the train at the next stop. The tension was so thick between us for the rest of the train ride that you could have cut it with a butter knife. The tension was laced with anticipation and intense excitement as this was a new thing for both of us, I was to find out later. Not that we hadn't had sex with others before -- I was no virgin, and from the way he handled me at the train stop I gathered he'd had his fair share of experiences -- but neither of us had experienced something as raw, as primal as the attraction we had for each other. It defied all normal logic, and as neuroscientists, the fact intrigued us. A turn-on for the mind, you might say. As the train finally ground to a halt at my stop, Stefan fairly jumped from his seat, pulling me along with him. We exited the train onto the dimly lit street below. His arm snaked around my waist at once; however instead of staying in place, his hand rhythmically stroked me from just underneath my breasts to my hip. I wrapped my arm around his waist, underneath his suit jacket, and fairly clung to him as my knees were giving out again. "Where is your apartment?" he asked, his voice deep and hoarse. "Just around the block." I figured it dawned on us then what we were about to do. What I was about to do. I was going to invite a man I knew almost nothing about into my house. Granted, I had had two fabulous dates with him, and he had the trust and friendship of my advisor... but what if he was a closeted crazy axe murderer? Well, crazy mini-axe murderer... it had to be a mini-axe because I didn't have one and his messenger bag was too small for a regular sized one. I mentally smacked myself. Why the hell am I thinking about the size of the axe he would use to cleave me in two?? Arousal, I decided, did strange things to my mind. Stepping up to the stoop, I fumbled in my pocket for the keys. With shaky hands, I inserted the key into the lock. As soon as it clicked open, I pushed the door open and all but fell inside. Stefan came in behind me. His arm went around me again as we walked up the stairs. At each landing, he pulled me to him and kissed me so thoroughly that by the end his arms were the only things holding me up. Needless to say, by the time we finally got to my apartment on the fourth floor, we were in a very desperate state indeed. As soon as we were on the other side of my door, he closed it and pushed me against it. I dropped the keys to the floor, and I felt him smile against my mouth. My hands went to his ass this time, and pulled him to me. I needed to feel his hard cock against me. I wanted to feel the evidence of the effect I had on him. I wanted to experience the manifestation of his desire. To my intense dismay, he pulled away from me, leaving me bereft of all contact with his glorious body. "Wha- What's wrong?" I protested. I didn't want to stop, and the look in his eyes told me he didn't want to stop either... so why the hell did he?' "I'm sorry, I—I need to calm down," he said, his voice strained. I stuck out my bottom lip in a pout. His lustful gaze fell to my mouth, and he closed his eyes, an almost pained expression on his face. "Where's the fun if you're calm?" I asked, taking a step closer to him. I needed him. Now. We could deal with foreplay later. "The fun is in making this last longer. At the rate we were going, the fun was about to reach a rather... premature end, if you catch my meaning." "Trust me, I was having fun," I took another step and reached out, taking hold of his lapels. I pushed them out toward his shoulders and slid his suit jacket off. He stared at me, letting it fall to the floor. "Until you stopped." I locked my eyes on his, and continued undressing him. It was his turn to be rooted to the spot now. I untied his tie and slid it from around his neck, and then went to work on his buttons. As soon as I got three of his buttons undone, I dropped my eyes down to his chest. The skin that met my eyes was a light olive color, with a nice amount of black hair that spanned his pectorals and gathered in the center, leading the eyes to the middle and down. I took the final step forward and started kissing his neck, taking my time with each inch, and going inexorably downward. His moans urged me onward. I tugged his shirt out of his pants, finished unbuttoning it, and pushed it off his shoulders so that it joined his jacket. I wrapped my arms around his waist and raked my fingernails down his back, all the while kissing his chest and licking his nipples. Suddenly, his hands were on my arms and he pushed me away again. "My turn," he growled before I could utter a single protest. He took the hem of my sweater and pulled upwards, and I raised my arms. He tossed the sweater to the ground, and stared at me. I grinned, thankful that I thought to wear my lacy black bra today. He let out a low moan and pulled me to him roughly, kissing my mouth fiercely. His hands knotted in my hair, holding me to him. I had never been kissed that way in my entire life. And yet again, he pulled away. "Where is your bedroom?" he panted out. I took his hand and started pulling him to the open door across the room, but as soon as he saw where we were headed, he picked me up and carried me the rest of the way. He laid me down on the bed and lowered himself on top of me. The feeling of his hard cock pushed against my sopping sex sent me moaning and writhing on the bed, clinging to him, my body language begging him to thrust against me. He reached around and undid the clasp of my bra, and I helped him pull it off. Then, he lowered his mouth to my right breast, sucking and gently biting on the hard nipple he found there. I entwined my fingers in his hair and moaned loudly, writhing against him. "Stefan..." I moaned. "What is it, darling?" he said in a taunting tone against my neck. The bastard is teasing me now? "I want you..." "Oh, really?" I growled, frustrated. "Oh, please do that again..." he groaned in my ear. "Stefan!" I said more urgently, gently pushing on his shoulders. "What is it? Tell me what you want me to do..." he said, biting my neck. "Fuck me," I whispered. "Hmm?" his kisses trailed along my neck, thoroughly distracting me. "Dammit, Stefan... FUCK THE FOREPLAY AND FUCK ME!" I shouted. He pulled back at me and gave me a very amused look. "Yes, ma'am," he said, and stood up to take off his pants. The look he gave me as he slid his belt out of its loops was enough to reduce me to incoherent goo. He pulled his pants and boxers down, and for the first time I saw what I had only felt before. His cock was almost 9 inches long and at least two inches wide. I stared as it bobbed into view. He smirked sexily. "Like what you see?" "I don't know yet..." His eyebrow arched with a question. "You haven't used it on me yet. How am I supposed to have an opinion?" That made him laugh; one harsh bark of humor. "Oh, you'll have an opinion soon enough..." he said, leaning over the edge of the bed and grabbing my legs. He pulled me forward so that he could unbutton my jeans and pull them down. Soon I was naked, sprawled across the bed, waiting for him to finally come over and do what we both craved. He stood at the foot of the bed for a moment, staring at my naked body. His eyes raked me up and down, taking in every detail, as if for memorization. I spread my legs, inviting him in, and hoping to break his trance. Thankfully, he snapped out of it and crawled up the bed until he was directly above me, his cock bobbing and dripping pre-cum onto my soaked cunt. He lowered his mouth to mine, giving me a kiss that was slower and more sensual than the ones we shared earlier. He reached down and positioned himself at my opening and slowly pushed himself in until he was completely sheathed inside of me. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, moaning softly and nipping at the skin there. Then he began thrusting, maddeningly slow and impossibly deep. I moaned, wrapping my arms and legs about him, pulling him closer. My hips began move in time with his, coaxing him to go faster, to fuck me harder. As it were, I figured I would have to ask him to. After a few more moments of the slow, delicious thrusting, I spoke. "Stefan..." "Yes?" he said. His voice was rough with arousal and his breath was hot on my ear. "Harder." "Do what harder? This?" he asked, and gave me a forceful thrust. "Yes, that... please... harder and faster..." I panted. "Harder and faster? Okay... just remember that you asked for it..." he warned, and then he let go of his control. He began thrusting into me so hard and fast that it all became a blur of sensation, the wonderful friction causing the small pyre in my sex to evolve into a roaring blaze. Suddenly, all too soon, I felt like I was soaring. The tension that had been building up all day finally broke, and I cried out wantonly as I rode out my orgasm. I raked my nails down Stefan's back and bit his shoulder. I heard him cry out, and felt his cock jerk and shoot ropes of come deep inside of me. He thrust in and out a few more times, jerkily, and then collapsed on top of me. "Wow." I said weakly after a few minutes. He grunted in agreement, and then rolled off of me. He stretched himself out beside me and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. I did the same, delighting in the aftershocks of my orgasm. After a few minutes I curled onto my side, facing him to find that he was already watching me. "What?" I asked, unable to read the look on his face. Worth It In The End Ch. 03 "Are you okay?" I must have looked confused. "I'm just asking because I've never done that before..." "You're a virgin?" "No, no I didn't mean that... I meant that I had never allowed myself to lose control like that before. Did I hurt you?" "Hurt me? Are you crazy? That was only the most intense, amazing, overpowering orgasm that I've ever had in my life... trust me: the last thing it did was hurt." "Are you sure?" he asked, his face concerned. "Positive. Now do it again." He laughed. "I'm afraid I might need a little recovery time... that was intense for me, as well. Come here," he said, and wrapped his arms around me, securing me beside him. I snuggled down into his chest, breathing the mesh of aromas that was his cologne and sweat and his own masculine scent, feeling utterly content and relaxed. Worth It In The End Ch. 04 I opened my eyes and found late morning sunlight streaming through the windows. I stretched out, feeling utterly content for the first time in a long while. I smiled, feeling a bit of residual soreness in my inner thighs, remembering the events of the past few hours. I reached over to the left side of my bed, searching for Stefan, but instead found a disappointingly empty mattress. I leaned up on my elbow and found no sign of him except for a pillow imprint. I felt the yawning mouth of disappointment and hurt open within my chest, and bit my lower lip. My mind was flooded with thoughts of self-consciousness and uncertainty as to whether last night was a bad idea after all. However, resolving to not lay about in bed moping about a hot one night stand—life could really be worse—I got up and put on some jeans and a sweatshirt, and set about cleaning up the apartment. I walked into the living room and blushed at the sight of my clothes strewn about. As I saw them lying there, my shirt lying haphazardly across the back of the couch brought back images that left me hot. I guess it wasn't a figment of my imagination.. I picked them up and threw them in the laundry basket. I put my cleaning mix CD into the player, and got to work. Cleaning always cleared my mind and helped me push uncomfortable emotions out of the way, for the moment. About half an hour later, as I was scrubbing away in the kitchen and singing along to my favorite Elton John track, I heard a knock on the door. Putting down the sponge and pushing a lock of hair behind my ear, I opened the door to a slightly bashful-looking Stefan carrying what smelled like food in a paper bag. He was, of course, the last person I was expecting to see at my door as I had already convinced myself of a scenario in which he had fully regretted his decision to sleep with me last night, and was high-tailing it back to Switzerland as quickly as his beautifully shaped legs could carry him. "Hello," he said, smiling. I couldn't quite bring myself to answer yet, as I was still too stunned at his presence. Damn... was he always this attractive? He looked behind me and saw the cleaning implements lying around, and cringed. "I'm sorry I left... I thought you might be hungry and you looked so beautiful asleep... I couldn't bear to wake you." The look he gave me, so filled with remorse, made me forget why it was he was apologizing. I waved my hand flippantly, dismissing the entire issue. "No worries, at all. Come in," I opened the door wider for him to enter. As he passed me, I caught a whiff of his cologne, and memories of last night sprang to the forefront of my mind. The vivid memories of his beautiful body thrusting furiously against mine caused a blush to rise in my cheeks. He noticed, and grinned. I wondered whether he was thinking the same thing. He followed me into the kitchen, and placed the bags he brought onto the counter. "I brought breakfast," he said. I nodded. Try as I might, I just couldn't take my eyes away from his. And I think had a rather foolish grin plastered on my face. He seemed to have the same eye problem, but he definitely wasn't smiling. The look in his eyes froze me in place. We both just stood there, staring at each other for what seemed like a while... and then next thing I knew his hands were knotted in my hair, his hips were pushing me against the counter, and his hot mouth was ravaging mine in a way that was about to make me faint. He untangled his hands from my hair and ran them down my body and up underneath my sweater. He moaned into my mouth as he cupped my breasts, and I felt his cock harden against my stomach. An answering wetness grew between my legs, and my hands began roaming his body. I wrapped them around his waist and slid them down to his ass, pulling him closer to me. I felt him smile against my lips. "I missed you," he breathed, kissing my neck from the earlobe to the collar of my sweater. "Oh, did you? I couldn't tell..." He chuckled against my ear, sending a shudder down my spine. His laugh was answered by my equally vocal stomach. I willed it to be silent—now was definitely not a time to be distracted by need for food. Stefan, however, had other ideas about food. "Sounds like we have to get you refueled, little missy. You're going to need it." Breakfast was delightful. He brought over a selection of bagels and muffins which we lovingly shared over delicious coffee. Each time I fed him a bite of muffin, he would end up sucking on my finger for a minute or so, rendering me completely senseless. Needless to say, I returned the favor. It never got old watching his eyes darken to that now-familiar shade of lust. My heart quickened every time. "So when was the last time you did any sight-seeing here?" I asked him. "You know... museums, stores, other things..." "Hmm, I must admit it has been a while since I've spent a frivolous day in Chicago. Do you know any neat places to go for the afternoon?" In my consideration of day-plans, I kept in mind the fact that neither of us could keep our hands off the other for any prolonged period of time. A museum was in order... one with dark alcoves perfect for copping a little feel. "I've always been a fan of the Field Museum of Natural History. It's right on the lake, a nice walk from here. It's a beautiful day out, perfect for the walk." "That sounds lovely," he said, and leaned forward to kiss me. "Mmm, that was nice... may I have another?" he grinned, and complied. "Now no more distracting me... I need to get changed so we can go in a timely fashion. It's almost noon, the walk will be at least an hour, and the museum closes at 5," I said with mock seriousness. To tease him a little more, I took off my sweater halfway to my room, revealing the fact that I wasn't wearing anything underneath. Soon enough, I wasn't walking alone. Miraculously, we made it to the museum with plenty of time to spare. -------------------------------------------------------- The walk to the museum was wonderful. It was a mild spring day, around 75 degrees and breezy. The fact that Stefan and I walked holding hands delighted me in a pre-teen sort of way. I had held hands with many a man, but there was something about this man that made whatever he did automatically render my heart a-skipping. Every so often, even if I was in the middle of an anecdote, he would stop and pull me to him and kiss me long enough to make me wish we were back at my place, alone and naked. Along the way, we talked in a carefree manner. I couldn't help but get the feeling that I had known this man for years, when in fact it had only been three days. That thought itself was preposterous to me—days, and I was already falling for the guy? I was falling harder that I would like to admit. Love? After this short a time? Darling, we've been there before... it's not a good idea. Stop it! My reasonable side internally expostulated, forcefully bringing up memories of relationships hurried into and concluded awfully. But try as I might, I couldn't stop my telltale heart from skipping a beat every time he smiled at me, or my mind to blank completely every time he kissed me. I was a goner. I might as well start renting the tearjerkers and buying Kleenex in bulk. The wonderful (I'm sure) museum exhibits failed to impress me that day. I only had eyes for Stefan. Every so often, when we were walking amongst the various displays, he would look at me that way. His dark, lust-filled stare would send a thrill up and down my spine and render me senseless. In darker rooms, his hands would roam my body as we stood together, feigning interest in a display of whatever. He would slide his hand down by back, pressing his fingers into the groove of my spine, sending shudders through my body. He slid his hand under the elastic waistband of my skirt, and gripped my naked ass firmly, kneading the soft flesh. When he did that I could barely suppress my squeal, and I turned, burying my face in his shoulder. I wrapped my arm around him, trying to pass off the noise as a cry of laughter, which I was now attempting to suppress in my lover's shoulder. It would appear sweet to the casual onlooker, but the feelings roiling around my lower abdomen were anything but sweet. I wanted him. I wanted him badly. The look in his eyes revealed the fact that he felt the same. Well, two can play this game. Should be fun to see how riled up I can get him, I thought to myself, letting a small smirk alight on my face. A look of puzzlement crossed his visage, his eyebrows knit together at the center, but his eyes never lost the look of lust. Slowly I brought my hand around from his waist up to his back, underneath his jacket. I copied his motion, sliding my hand down his back, teasing the groove of his spine, and never breaking eye contact. My hand reached his ass, and I cupped it, slipping my fingers between the cleft of his ass and squeezed. I watched as his eyes fluttered closed and he bit his lower lip, allowing a sigh of a grown escape his parted lips. I smiled and turned to walk to the next exhibit, exaggerating the sway of my hips saucily. Mission accomplished. Worth It In The End Ch. 05 Needless to say, we left the museum shortly after that episode. The outside world was glaringly sunny and contained far too many people for us. We walked along hand in hand, but the ambience that surrounded us was no longer as carefree as our surroundings. His hand held mine tightly, his pace was quickened, and the air between us positively crackled with unsaid thoughts and feelings. My mind was filled with desire for Stefan—in more ways than just the physical. I wanted him in my life as a lover, a partner, and a friend. I had a strange feeling that being with him would ease this feeling of longing in my heart—longing for something that I couldn't quite put a finger on, but had a sneaky feeling he could fill. My reasonable side still held strong, though. So far the only feeling he had expressed for me was pure, animal attraction. Now trust me... I was not complaining about that. There was nothing (nothing) like being desired that intensely. However, now that my feelings had deepened, I found myself wondering if perhaps something could grow from this avalanche of an affair. As if I needed further proof or any reason to exercise further caution in my relationship with Stefan, my mind felt the need to unlock boxes of past relationships and fling them in my face. Gonzalo, my ex-boyfriend to whom I had willfully given four years of my life, had stolen my trust from me with a sexy smile, and proceeded to take advantage of my trust in the worst possible of ways. Given the prospect of a new man in my life, I couldn't help but feel nervous and flighty. Yes, my mind, on the way back from the museum, was not a very pleasant place to reside. On the one hand, there was my raging desire to be lying in bed with Stefan on top of me, kissing my neck and whispering sexy things to me... and on the other hand, there was the sense of preparation -- it felt like my heart was trying to take off and fly and then discovering that it was still shackled to the ground. Nothing this good could possibly last. I sensed a shift in his awareness and looked to my left to find him watching me intently. The expression in his eyes changed a bit as lust met and mingled with concern. "What're you thinking?" he asked, his voice laced with worry. I mentally cursed myself for having such a readable face. "Nothing really... just wishing that we had wings, at the moment," I grinned, rearranging my features and squeezing his hand in mine. He smiled back, but I could tell that he merely put aside his worry for a later time upon perceiving my reluctance to share the source of it. Wise man, I thought to myself, blessing him for his patience. Sooner than I would have thought, we reached my apartment building. His passion seemed to have abated a bit, and he looked at me concernedly with a question on his handsome face. I knew he was expressing uncertainty as to whether or not I wanted to bring him upstairs right now. I made a mental note to ask him how he became so damn perceptive. Any other man I knew would have been thinking with their dick, and would have gotten me up to my apartment and divested me of my clothes by now. The truth was, no matter how much I wanted him physically in that moment I wasn't sure how much I could give of myself with the newfound knowledge of my love for him. I figured since he was too polite to invite himself in or leave, I would have to make the decision. In the end, I figured, life is all about risks and hazardous decisions. We can never predict what will happen, and more often than not we find ourselves regretting events that transpired because we did not do what we wished. With this in mind, I turned to Stefan and looked at him. I took him in, unfiltered by any anxieties or preconceived notions created by past relationships —I just looked at him for the man he was, not the man he appeared to be upon comparison with others. He stood about a foot away from me, holding both of my hands in his larger ones. The look on his face was earnest and questioning. I thought of the time we had shared together so far—definitely nothing to complain about. Hell, what is there to lose? "Come on... what're we waiting for?" I grinned, and pulled him inside. Chapter Six The walk up the steps was much less frantic than it was the night before. He slid his arm around my waist as soon as we got inside the doorway, and kissed the top of my head. The gesture filled me with a pleasantly warm sensation. Inside the apartment, I set the kettle on for tea, and Stefan took off his shoes and sat down on the couch in my living room. The scene struck me as domestic, and I smiled. It had been a while since I'd had a companion in life, and I welcomed this new development with open arms. As I waited for the water to boil, I watched Stefan from my vantage point in the kitchen. He was sitting with his head leaned back and eyes closed, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. There was still a slight bulge in the front of his jeans that he was trying to mask with his hands. Once more, I found myself marveling at his perception of the situation, and his gentlemanly restraint. As I scanned further down his body, I saw that his feet were moving to a rhythm of a song playing in his head. When my eyes found their way back up to his face, I saw him watching me. "What're you looking at?" "Oh, just some really hot guy who decided to park it on my sofa." "That sounds exciting." "It is." "Come here." I walked over and sat next to Stefan on the couch. He lifted his arm and draped it around my shoulders, pulling me gently so that my head was leaning against his chest. I closed my eyes and listened to the strong beat of his heart. The warmth of the day still lingered on his clothes, heightening his natural aroma. I took a deep whiff and heard him chuckle. "What're you laughing at?" I asked teasingly. "Sounds like somebody likes the way I smell," he said, the smile evident in his voice. "Just a bit." "Only a bit?" "Okay, maybe it makes me randy as hell. But I like other aspects of you as well." "It's my lucky day. What might those other aspects be?" "Well, for starters, you have gorgeous eyes," I said, raising my head so that I could look into the objects in question. "Really sexy hair, just long enough to run my fingers through," and I did. He smiled, a dreamy look passing over his face. "You also have a rather devastating smile," I said, allowing my eyes to drift down to his lips. I brought a hand up and traced them, running my index finger along first the top and then bottom lip. "What else?" he asked, his voice slightly husky. I grinned at the effect I was having. "You have a marvelous sense of humor... and you're probably one of the most genuinely kind people I've ever met. Also... you have a really nice..." I allowed my eyes to travel down to the bulge in his jeans to finish my sentence. "Ach, you're making me blush," he said, stroking my cheek with a finger. His finger strayed under my ear, and then behind my head, pulling me to him. His lips caught mine in an incredibly gentle kiss unlike any we'd shared up to this point. Hell, it was unlike any kiss I'd ever received. His lips gently massaged mine, almost as if he were willing my soul to open to him. He licked my lower lip lightly, his tongue gently seeking entrance into my mouth. When I opened my mouth to accept his advances, the kiss turned into something slower and impossibly hotter. His hand trailed down my side, from my shoulder to my hip, and came to rest on my ass. I grinned against his mouth and pulled myself up and swung a leg around so that I ended up straddling his hips. As soon as I felt his hardness pressing between my thighs, I quit smiling. His hands gripped my hips and forcibly rolled them against himself, groaning into my mouth as he did so. My hands slid up his muscled chest and into his hair, holding his head so that I could kiss him more thoroughly. His hands then took hold of the hem of my shirt, and began pulling upwards. I raised my arms compliantly, and he tossed the shirt aside. He discarded my bra in similar fashion, and broke the kiss in order to take a closer look at the parts of me thus exposed. He made a noise deep in his throat that I could only translate as one of intense satisfaction, and bent his head to my left breast, taking the nipple into his mouth. I moaned in pleasure and arched by back, allowing him better access to my breast. He kneaded the other in his hand, toying with the nipple in the same way his mouth was doing. I slowly began to grind myself against him, thoroughly enjoying the sensation of his hard length pressed insistently against my sopping sex. With this, the tenor of our encounter shifted abruptly. He swung me around so that I was lying on my back on the couch, him between my legs. He raised himself up on his knees and divested himself of his shirt. I got only a glance of his delicious chest before he bent and took off his pants and shorts, leaving him naked. He seared me with his gaze. "You're wearing far too many clothes, m'dear," he practically growled, before proceeding to slide my skirt and panties down and off of me. "That's better..." He leaned down and kissed my stomach gently, causing the muscles underneath to quiver. He licked me and blew on the moistened flesh, causing me to tremble more. I watched through heavily lidded eyes as he continued to make his way down, lower and lower. My eyes closed completely when he reached his mark, and I let out a deep moan. His tongue slid along my pussy, teasing open the folds and causing me to squirm beneath him. "Hold still," he commanded, and I quelled my motions directly. Unwilling to trust me in such a state, he slid his arms underneath my thighs and held me soundly at the hips. As he continued to torment me with his delightful tongue, I ran my hands through his hair, knotting them firmly there. He grinned devilishly and looked up. "Like this, do you?" In response, I pushed his head back down. Before too long, his teasing tongue zeroed in on my clit and I moaned and locked my legs around his head, keeping him in place. He sucked my clit into his mouth and flicked it, hard. My moan escalated into a scream as I was hurled over the edge into an explosive orgasm by his skillful tongue. His hands continued to hold me in place, but his tongue mercifully stilled as I rode out the orgasm. "Wow," I panted. He crawled back up my body, kissing wherever he saw skin along the way. He came to rest lying flush against me, and I could feel his hot breath in my ear. I felt his hard cock against me, and was brought back to the current time and place with alacrity. I reached around and gripped his ass and pulled him the rest of the way to me. My pussy was freshly soaked after the orgasm and he slid in effortlessly, groaning when he reached bottom. He stayed there for a moment, and then he began to move. He pulled out almost all the way, and then slid back in torturously slowly. He did this a few more times, and then he was gone. "Wha-?" I asked, befuddled by arousal. I opened my eyes to find him on his knees before me. He gripped my hips and flipped me over onto my stomach. Instantly I understood and propped myself up on my elbows and knees and spread my legs helpfully. When he didn't enter me immediately, I looked over my shoulder at him to see what was up. He was staring at me with an incredible look in his eyes. For the moment, he seemed to have forgotten his painfully hard cock in favor of feasting his eyes upon my exposed sex. He blinked when he saw me look back, and smiled a strained smile. "God, you're beautiful," he choked out. He reached out a shaking hand and slid a finger along my pussy. I shuddered and moaned, turning back to face forward. I leaned back, hoping to entice him in. I felt him scoot forward on the couch and press his cock against my opening. He slid in once more. The change in position caused his cock to rub against different places inside of me, and I moaned appreciatively, leaning back into him. "Oh, my God," he groaned. Then he put his hands on my hips to hold me steady, and proceeded to pound into me mercilessly. Given the new angle of my body, he hit bottom each time, causing me to tense up in preparation of orgasm yet again. I gripped the sofa and bit into the pillow to keep from screaming. Dimly, I could hear the kettle begin to go off. I heard Stefan chuckle once, hearing it as well... at least I thought it was a chuckle. He reached around my hips and began rubbing my clit. After about two seconds of that, my orgasm hit me full force: my pussy muscles clenched spasmodically around his hard cock, causing him to growl raggedly. I was vaguely aware of the sensation of spilling warmth deep inside as Stefan thrust to completion. He sagged wearily against me, pushing me down flush into the couch. After a few moments, he turned so that we were spooning comfortably, listening to the kettle going crazy on the stove. As I drifted into sleep, I found myself smiling at the memory that he moaned my name when he came. Worth It In The End Ch. 06 We spent the rest of the weekend companionably together. That Saturday evening was spent in bed. After making and drinking tea, we crawled under the covers and didn't leave until the next morning. During that time, we alternated making love and cuddling while talking of various things. It was incredibly sweet. However, it did nothing to make me fall less in love with him. If anything, it made me fall harder. However, when Monday morning came around, the sweetness was terminated by the strident call of my alarm clock. "What the..." Stefan murmured against my shoulder. His hand came up over his eyes, rubbing the sleep out. "Time to get up," I answered, but made no move save to lean back into his warm chest. He tightened his grip around my waist, cupped a breast, and nuzzled into the crook of my neck. "Skip." "What?" He repeated himself. "I know. I heard you the first time... but, skip what? School?" "Mmhm," he answered, beginning to rain my neck with a delightful series of kisses and gentle nips. "I would love to..." the tail end of my sentence trailed off as his lips distracted me. "But?" "But I have a meeting with Beauchamp in an hour and a half," I answered, still making no move to extricate myself from my warm sanctuary. "Oh... you do, do you?" he asked, halting in his assault on my neck and shoulder. "Mmhm," I answered, pushing back against him, willing him to begin kissing me again. He did, but seemed more distracted. "What is it?" "Oh, just that if you have a meeting with him that means I have one too... with you." "Oh. So?" "Well, I was just pondering the rather unfortunate prospect of being in the same room with you and not being able to touch you." "What would stop you from touching me?" I asked, reaching around to stroke his thigh. He all but purred in my ear, sliding his hard cock between my legs. "Because technically we aren't allowed to be doing what we're doing while working together," he answered, sliding his cock against my wet pussy. I made a soft noise and angled my hips to afford him entrance, but he maintained his external position. To my great dismay, he disentangled himself from me, gave me one last searing kiss, and headed into the shower. His parting words were somewhat puzzling. Did he imply that due to our work situation, he considered it a mistake to act on the mutual attraction (dare I say animal magnetism) that influenced us outside of academia? I know that it would be the rational thing to do... my brain told me that being involved with someone you had to be in a professional situation with oftentimes leads to sticky situations... but it pained me to think about forcing a stop to this beautiful thing we had just begun. Things like this are incredibly difficult to come by, and as someone with a rather rough relationship history—not even relationship history, but just man-selection history-- a good thing should be cherished. I kept mulling until Stefan emerged from the bathroom freshly shaven. He smiled at me warmly, taking in my naked body with visible appreciation. I couldn't help but feel a twinge at the prospect of losing this new wonderful intimacy. That first day at the office was downright painful. The train ride into the city was fine-- I leaned against Stefan and he played with my hair while we looked out the window at the scenery flashing by. It was romantic and peaceful and I wouldn't have traded that feeling for the world. However, as soon as we stepped onto campus, we had to pretend to be near-strangers. That involved walking half a foot away from one another and treating each other cordially, without the warmth and intimacy we had spent the weekend basking in. As soon as we got into the draft and research topics it became easier to deal with his presence and its effect on my nerves and certain areas of my anatomy. In the beginning, catching his eye meant shudders and a sudden pooling of warmth and wetness between my legs. His lustful looks when Beauchamp wasn't watching did nothing to help my situation. I wondered vaguely if Beauchamp noticed anything, but I realized that only an inanimate object would be impervious to the sexual tension in the room. Hell, fuck that, the stapler was probably having a rough time of it too. But, as I said, throw neuroscience papers at a couple of scientists, and we will be distracted. That didn't stop Stefan from running a hand up my leg when Beauchamp left the room, though. When we entered the office, Beauchamp greeted us similarly as he did the last time we met. "Ah, hello Stefan... hello, Sarah. I trust your respective weekends went well?" we nodded mutely, awkwardly. "Excellent. Hopefully you two will get to know one another better as time moves along. Ah, well, come in come in... we have a lot to accomplish today..." Stefan and I shared twin looks of dread in the face of the session. He was right... it was going to be hell being in the same room with him without being able to touch him. Each touch, accidental or intentional, sent a line of fire down my spine. I couldn't tell for sure, but I think the touches had the same effect on him. It brought me back to the first time we sat down to a meal together... we carried two separate conversations with our voices and body language. Before our scientific minds took over, it was simply excruciating. Several hours later, Beauchamp finally broke the silence. "Alright you two, I think that's enough for today. Don't be disheartened, now... five pages is great. I'll see you two on Wednesday." Needless to say we ran, not walked, away from the prying eyes of campus. Walked right into Gonzalo, as a matter of fact. "Sarah?" I heard an astonished male voice say. I looked up into an unfortunately familiar pair of blue eyes, framed by unruly locks of black hair. The skin that surrounded the eyes was a dark olive color, contrasting with the eyes beautifully. That, however, was where the beauty ended. Gonzalo's mouth had always been cruel, a sneer gracing his lips instead of a smile. His body, while finely muscled, was unyielding: cold, and slightly repulsive... like a steel reptile. Granted, these impressions were based off of an incredibly nasty break-up, before which I considered Gonzalo the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I can't help it if every time I look at that handsome face, I see it buried between some other woman's legs. The pains of shock and heartbreak follow close behind, leaving me gasping for breath at the sight of him. I always feel as though I've just received a sound punch to the gut. "Gonzalo, hi," I said, trying not to turn tail and run. "How are you?" he asked, sneering down at me. Exchanging niceties with Gonzalo was always the most difficult thing to do. Why can't you just walk past me? Why must you pretend to care? "Fine," I replied stiffly. After a beat, I forced myself to ask how he was in return. However, by that time I realized that he noticed Stefan standing by my side, holding my hand. "And who's this?" Gonzalo asked, looking Stefan up and down rather rudely. Gratefully, Stefan stepped forward and introduced himself. "I'm Stefan Boussevic," he said, all calm sophistication. I watched as Gonzalo's jaw dropped. He had paid just enough attention during our relationship to know that I had always been deeply impressed by Stefan's brilliant research, and he had been as well. Gonzalo taught linguistics, which was under the larger umbrella of the brain sciences and had found several of Stefan's research papers useful. The two men exchanged academic pleasantries for a minute or so before Gonzalo excused himself and stalked away the way only a Latino can. While they spoke, my head was filled with a low rushing sound "Do you want to tell me what that was about?" Stefan asked in a low voice, looking over his shoulder to make sure Gonzalo was out of earshot. "What?" The low rushing sound had just vacated my mind, leaving me slightly reeling. I was shaking, and Stefan, bless him or curse him, noticed. "Don't give me that. I'm not blind, Sarah. Who was that man?" I took a deep breath and reluctantly unraveled the story of lust, seduction and betrayal. It sounded corny, like something straight from the script of a soap opera. Gonzalo and I met at a party my friend was hosting. He was her colleague in the linguistics department and she had wanted to introduce us for a long while, thinking that our research would coincide and he could give me some pointers on my thesis. Needless to say, he drew me in with his intellect, charm, and sexy Spanish accent. Ever the gentleman, he took me out on a couple of dates before we had sex. He would bring me roses, take me out for romantic dinners, decorate my bedroom with rose petals for our anniversaries... what can I say. I fell. And I fell hard. For about three and a half years of my life, Gonzalo was my galaxy... my universe. He was everywhere, meant everything. He was gravity, and I was the millions of planets and nebulae strewn through his galactic expanse. It was the classic master-slave relationship... except not quite so clear-cut. He would do whatever he wanted, and I could do nothing to stop him if I disagreed. He went to "conferences" and romped with trashy women he found in bars while I stayed home, wondering why he never turned on his phone. This arrangement continued – his reassurances placating my worries – until I walked in one day to find him in the middle of giving his lady friend quite the orgasm. Now, it's quite an interesting feeling when you discover that the one person holding you together suddenly tosses you against a cliff. I did the only natural thing and went to pieces, emotionally and physically. I stopped coming to school for fear of confronting him. I didn't answer my friends' phone calls. I stopped eating. I disappeared into my own black hole. All of that occurred a year and a half ago. I was reasonably put back together, with the help of my best friend Jack, and my work, which kept me occupied. However, I still felt a profound blow to my tenuous hold on togetherness whenever I saw him. Today was particularly rough, given the exposed feeling a new relationship evokes. It was thanks to Gonzalo that I ruined every single relationship I had tried to begin, casting shadowy doubt onto their character and refusing to trust them, no matter how they proved themselves in the short time I allowed them to stick around. When I finished speaking, Stefan remained silent for a long while. We walked side by side and then stood and waited at the train station. I was thankful for the silence, yet worried at the same time. Had I repulsed him somehow? Did I appear weak? Did Stefan need someone stronger, more stable? Doubts plagued me all the way to my apartment. As we stood on the stoop, I looked expectantly at Stefan. I waited for him to say the final words, breaking off from me for some reason or another. They all gave different reasons, but the outcome was always the same – me, alone. I felt the numbness seeping in, something that I attributed to self-preservation. There were only so many times a person could be torn apart. Tears, despite my efforts to dam them, filled my eyes. Why can't he just get it over with? Let me go upstairs and die slowly. However, he did something that surprised me. He lifted his hand to my face, running his fingers gently along my cheekbone. He wiped away a tear that had escaped. The action moved me deeply and sent shivers playing down my spine. His hand slid gently into my hair and came to rest at the base of my skull. Then, he pulled me forward and placed his mouth on mine. The kiss was disarmingly sweet, so much so that I had to put my hands flat on his chest so that I would not sink to the ground. He did not beg permission to enter with his tongue, he simply molded his mouth to mine, allowing me to feel his solidity and presence. The feel of his warm lips pressed reassuringly, solidly against mine caused a wellspring of emotions to erupt inside of me. Despite the reassuring sweetness of the kiss, I couldn't stop the thought that it was merely a goodbye gesture. As if reading my mind and wishing to dispel the negative thoughts, he snaked his arm around my back and pulled me flush against his body. At the same time, his tongue sneaked out and licked at the seam of my lips. And then he was gone. I opened my eyes, surprised at the lack of him. His face was still only inches away from mine. The look in his eyes was overwhelmingly sweet. "You don't have to look so terrified, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." All I could do was smile. Worth It In The End Ch. 07 A week later, we had managed to locate a balance between the proverbial work and play. Stefan found that focusing his entire attention on the problem at hand in the meetings exponentially (yet not entirely) decreased his desire to throw me on the floor, professor or not, and fuck me senseless. With this adjustment, and its inevitable snuffing of the sexy and dangerous (and mourned) fire in Stefan's eyes, came my ability to focus. Therefore, everything was going along swimmingly. One day toward the end of the week, Professor Beauchamp surprised me with a comment. "Say, Sarah, when are you finally going to pounce on Stefan?" His query was met with a blank and slightly shocked stare. "Don't be offended or anything... but I was just wondering when you were finally going to make a move. You two have been staring at each other like starving people eyeing a feast for the past week, and it's downright awkward. I'm planning on mentioning something to Stefan later today... just do me a favor and think about it, would you?" and with that, he patted me on the shoulder and left. As soon as he left the office I burst into fits of laughter. The laughter was relief met with shock and just plain amusement. The fact that Beauchamp was okay with Stefan and I dating meant that we could stop this ridiculous charade and be natural around one another. Okay, not entirely natural... but we could drop the stranger act we had going. Relief and joy continued to flow through me for a good ten minutes. A couple of hours later I was looking through the last manuscript I had produced, comparing ideas with recent medical journals, when I sensed somebody watching me. I looked up and saw Stefan in the doorway. I grinned at the impish expression on his face. "Did Beauchamp talk to you?" I asked, my grin widening. "How did you guess?" "Luckily." "Ha-ha," he laughed dryly. "He told me something very interesting." "Oh, yeah? And what was that?" He chuckled deep in his chest. "Let's see... I believe it was something like 'Listen, Stefan, if you don't ask Sarah out on a date soon, she's going to rape you in the bathroom.'" "No!" I said, shocked, and proceeded to guffaw harshly. "Me? Rape you?" "Hey! Are you saying that's not an inviting prospect?" he raised an eyebrow at me and let his gaze smolder into me for a few seconds. It had the desired effect, of course. "I'm not saying that at all. I guess you just forgot who was undressing who with their eyes on the train!" I said, ducking to avoid his playful swat. "Ah, yeah... hey I couldn't help it. Anyway, I figured that about you... that you were traditional... and I told Beauchamp as much." "Oh? What did he have to say about that?" "He said he figured too." I laughed. "Well, I'm glad you two have me so figured out." The laugh died in my throat as I took in the lustful gaze Stefan was firing my way. The look melted the very marrow in my bones, effectively turning my spine into jelly. "Stefan, I..." "You what?" he interrupted huskily, taking a step toward me. The look in his eyes was positively predatory. It was the hottest thing I'd ever seen in my life. "I don't think you should be looking at me that way now..." "Looking at you in what way?" he inquired silkily. "Like you want to pin me down and have your way with me," I whispered. "How perceptive of you... that's just delightful. I had no idea I was so obvious about my desires..." his voice was impossibly low and impossibly sexy. He turned and closed the door, locking it behind him, then continued moving closer. I began getting a bit nervous. We had been very careful about keeping our sexual relationship on the down-low, but the way he was behaving made it seem like he had done a one-eighty concerning his opinions on appropriate office behavior. "What are you doing?" "What Beauchamp sent me in here to do." "Pardon?" "He very pointedly told me to go in here and keep you company. He also winked at me and told me he was going to a meeting and would be absent for about an hour and a half." "Are you insinuating..." "Yes." "...Oh." By that time he had reached me. He held out his hand. I took it and stood up. As soon as I was vertical, he pushed himself flush against me and wrapped his arms around me. I could feel his excitement as he pressed against me, and it reduced me to molten goo. I slid my arms around his waist and down to his ass. He groaned appreciatively and leaned down to claim my mouth with his. And claim was exactly what he did. His hot tongue pushed against mine, engaging it in a game of tag. I couldn't hold back the moan as his hands slid ever so slowly down my back to my ass, and proceeded to pull me to him strongly. His hard cock pressed like a hot poker against my stomach. I ran my hands up into his hair, enjoying the silky feel and the delicious smell of his shampoo. I felt him pushing me backwards with more force, and I stepped back, feeling my ass come in contact with the desk. "What are you doing?" I asked breathily as his hands slid down toward the hem of my skirt. I put my hands on his in a move to stop him. "I plan on having my wicked way with you... complaints?" he asked between kisses to my jaw line and neck. It was a good thing I was pushed against the desk-- otherwise I would have fallen. "Of course not..." "Good." "It's just that..." "What?" he sounded exasperated now. I couldn't blame him... the state he was in must not be very comfortable. "We're in Beauchamp's office. Do you really want to do this?" The only answer I received was a thrust of his pelvis against me and the renewed attack of his mouth against mine accompanied by a rough groan. His hands completed their quest for the hem of my skirt, and he pulled it up roughly. He slid his hands down my legs and pushed them apart, stepping between them. I gasped as I felt his hard cock push insistently against me. His hands groped around to my hips and began pushing my panties down. As if on their own accord, my hands found their way to his belt. I made quick work of his buckle and fly and proceeded to free his swollen cock. Impatient, he brushed my hands away and jerked his clothes down in one swift move. I didn't even have a chance to admire his thick length because as soon as he relieved himself of his pants, he grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the desk, and in one move plunged deep into my pussy. Gratefully, his mouth was there to swallow my surprised moans. Almost immediately his hips set up a quick, almost desperate pace. The wet smack of our bodies echoed throughout the office, our muffled cries and moans disappearing, soaking into the books and papers. Stefan's hands were on the desk, one on either side of my hips. My hands ran all over his slightly curved back, pausing on the twin globes of his delicious ass, feeling his muscles flex as he thrust into me wildly. The orgasmic tingle began somewhere in the vicinity of my knees, and I brought my legs around him, angling my body so that his thrusts would hit deeper inside of me. My hands went around his strong back for security. His breath came in hot bursts against my neck, sending shivers down my spine, aiding the tingles in their quest for coalescence. Stefan's teeth found my neck and he nipped me gently, and I was gone. The tingles and shivers shot through my body, causing my pussy to clench rhythmically against the hard cock lodged there. My eyes rolled back in my head as my orgasm ripped through me, my hands gripped strong shoulders. I dimly registered Stefan moaning and grunting harshly into my ear as he rode through his own climax. After what could have either been minutes or hours, Stefan peeled himself from me, his cock slipping wetly from my freshly ravaged pussy. I opened my eyes to find him looking sheepishly at me, as if realizing for the first time what his libido had led him to do. I slid myself off of the desk, reaching around to unstick a piece of paper that had attached itself to my ass. I held it up for Stefan's inspection, and as soon as I caught his eye I burst into laughter. My legs were still a bit shaky from the thorough fucking I had just received, so I ended up kneeling on the ground, wheezing out laughs. I heard Stefan giggling, and the boyish sound of it sent me into fresh peals of laughter. A minute or so later, sides aching from the laugh attack, I stood up. Stefan came up to me and wrapped his arms around me, nuzzling into my neck and kissing the sensitive spot where he had nipped. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that?" "Probably just about as long as I have..." "Well aren't we just the pair" "Yep" "We'd better get out of here..." he murmured after a few minutes. "Hm... why?" I was perfectly content to stand here in his arms for the rest of the day. "Because when Beauchamp gets back here and finds his office smelling of sex and a questionable wet spot on his desk, I do not want to be present, even if the activity was condoned." "Good point." That night as I lay in Stefan's strong arms, hearing his deep and steady breaths beside me, I was plagued by unwanted thoughts and memories. "Come on, baby, don't you trust me?" Gonzalo's voice was soft over the phone. I could hear the sounds of a party. I always hated it when he had to go away "on business". "Of course I trust you," I answered, infusing my voice with a false conviction. "Good. Now go to sleep, baby, I will see you soon... love you." I rolled over in my sleep, careful not to upset Stefan in his sleep. He simply tightened his arm around me, making a contented noise. I hated that thoughts of Gonzalo always crept into my mind at night, throwing a rather unsubtle wrench into my bliss. These thoughts reminded me exactly how love ended up in my life-- thrown back in my face, along with a heapin' helpin' of betrayal. Each time Gonzalo surfaced in my mind, I was reminded forcibly of the conundrum swirling within my chest. I couldn't help but come to face with the depth of my feelings for Stefan. We worked together, and each night we fell asleep together either at my place, or at the apartment he was renting. I even introduced him to my friends, and, fiercely overprotective as they may be, they could not help but like him. Sure, I could like him. Trusting him, however, was another matter entirely. And it pained me to admit that. Worth It In The End Ch. 08 One day, as if she had telepathically read my disquietude, my mother called and imparted rather unsettling news. I had been sitting on the couch with Stefan, watching mindless television while he gave me a toe-curling back massage. Just as the session was taking a more interesting turn, the telephone rang shrilly in its cradle. Stefan ignored it, continuing to kiss my neck with maddeningly light, teasing kisses that were well on their way to rendering me senseless. I heard the answering machine crackle, and my mother's voice filtered through the apartment. "Hello honey, this is your mother. I know you're there. I really think you should pick up the phone..." "Hello?" I said breathlessly, having just extricated myself from Stefan's arms. I pushed my hair into some semblance of order, as if my mother could see me. Looking at the couch, I shot an "I'm sorry" look at Stefan, who was left in a rather uncomfortable looking situation, judging by the bulge in his jeans. He just shrugged and turned his attention to the television, readjusting himself to cool off. We had been over this before. Mother panics when I don't pick up the phone. She just happens to call at rather... inopportune moments. "This had better be good mom." "Oh it won't take but a minute, then you can go back to whatever nerdy things you were doing. Unless of course you finally got your nose out of a book long enough to get a man into your apartment..." "Mom!" "What! I'm just saying... oh, forget it. I was just calling to say that Gonzalo dropped by yesterday. He was looking for you." This was rather unexpected news indeed. I sat down at the kitchen table. "What? That's weird. He knows I don't live with you ..." of course. How silly of me. He also was well aware of how strongly my mother approved of our relationship... and how she wanted it to end up. In short, she wanted us to have a fairy-tale wedding and make lots of half-Hispanic babies. Let's just say she hasn't gotten over that rainbow-infused vision of the future, and Gonzalo knew that. The scumbag. I realized belatedly that my mother was still talking, and tuned back in. "...and he was just telling me how badly he missed you and all. Honey, I think you ought to give him another chance. Everybody makes mist—" "No mom. That's not a good enough reason. I hate that this is the way I have to tell you, but I did manage to get my nose out of a book long enough, thank you very much, and I'm very happy with the way my life is now. I most certainly do not need that cheating creep back!" I looked up, seeing Stefan in the kitchen doorway wearing a concerned expression. I rolled my eyes in response, indicating that I would tell him later. He didn't leave; instead he came over and continued to massage my shoulders. I touched one of his hands, grateful for his presence. "I understand that what he did was wrong, honey—" I interrupted her once more. "I don't think you do. You're still enamored with the vision you had of little half-Hispanic babies running around for you to spoil." "That may be... but still, he looked so sorry... that I told him..." "What did you tell him, mother?" My tone was icy. "Well, I told him that whoever he saw you with was not important and that I had spoken to you and I kind of assured him that you would take him back." She said in a rush. I felt like I had been stabbed. "Mother, you crossed the line." I said, and hung up without another word. After dropping the receiver onto the table, I leaned over and buried my head in my hands, heaving a great sigh. "What did she say?" Stefan asked softly. "Nothing surprising. She told me that Gonzalo came to visit her. Upon hearing his fabricated tale of how badly he missed me and how much it hurt to see me with someone else, she ensured him that I would take him back at a moment's notice." "Well that's not that big a deal... you can reject him when he comes to collect his dues, if that's what you want." I ignored the implicit question. "It's not that easy, Stefan. He's going to play dirty on this one. He still thinks I'm his, for all intents and purposes. You know how Latinos are..." "I'd like him to try to take you away from me," he said, his touch becoming protective. I smiled. Sensing the relief of my tension, he leaned forward and touched his lips to my neck. Whether he wanted simply to assert his presence or continue the exchange on a more physical level, I didn't mind. "Now where were we?" His hands moved from my shoulders down to my chest, cupping my breasts in his large, warm hands. The touch was so welcome after the stressful phone conversation that I couldn't hold back a moan. Stefan chuckled against my neck. "I agree," he said. He kneaded my breasts for a minute or two more, before sliding his hands down my stomach to latch onto the hem of my shirt. He pulled up, and I raised my arms obligingly. Soon, my shirt and bra were on the ground. I stood up at that point, and wrapped my arms around Stefan's neck. I kissed him deeply, conveying my gratefulness to him nonverbally. Pulling away, I found the same sentiments reflected back to me in his eyes before he closed them again, drawing close to kiss me once more. Before I could register the change in location, Stefan was laying me down on the couch. Without thinking, I opened my legs for him and groaned into his mouth as he nestled his hips just so between them. I could feel his hard cock pressing insistently against me, but he seemed determined to take it slow this time. Our tongues slid together languidly, our breath mingling hotly. I deeply enjoyed the pleasure of feeling his weight pressing me down into the soft sofa cushions in counterpoint with the wet, hot feeling of his mouth claiming mine. My arms wrapped themselves loosely about his neck, my fingers slid into his soft curls, enjoying their silkiness. His hands ran down the length of my body, stopping for a moment at my breasts, and then farther down to my hips, holding me still so that he could grind maddeningly against me. Eventually, he lifted his mouth from mine and shifted his attentions to the left side of my jaw and neck. Upon reaching my ear, he took the lobe gently between his teeth and flicked the end with his tongue, sucking gently at the end. Releasing it, he breathed hot, moist air on my ear, causing an intense shudder to travel down my spine, making me wriggle beneath him. My movement against his hard cock caused him to gasp. I grinned at his response. Despite our mutually intense arousal, the pace remained slow. It was as thought both of us relished in the sensations of our bodies becoming more and more sexually aroused, masochistically enjoying the near-pain caused by the unfulfillment of actions. Stefan eased his weight off of me and onto his knees as he moved his mouth down from my neck to my chest. He caught my right nipple in his mouth, and sucked it in deeply. My breath caught in my lungs as I arched my back to him, eager for him to take more of me into his hot mouth. He responded by sucking deeper, and raising his hand to caress my other breast, teasing the nipple just like his mouth was doing. My hips swiveled this way and that, desperately seeking the pressure my pussy sorely lacked. If he noticed, he didn't change anything about what he was doing. It seemed as though he wanted to drive me mad with wanting. He was well on his way to completing this end. Releasing my breasts, he eased himself up until he was resting entirely on his knees, kneeling between my legs. Looking down at me in my wanton state, breasts wet from his mouth and hair all in a tussle, his face took on an almost arrogant look. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy his ability to render me senseless and writhing beneath him. His hands reached up to caress my breasts, and then slid down my quivering stomach to the hem of my jeans. He slid his fingers under the hem just enough to send my lower abdomen a-quiver at the need for his touch, making my pussy even wetter than before—if as much were possible. However, all he did was unbutton my jeans. Throughout all of this, his eyes never left my face. I was certain now that he was carrying out his actions slowly in order to drive me completely mad, as he could surely read my desperate need of him on my face. The look in his eyes was unlike any expression I had seen there before. Sure, there was the predatory lust that overcame his features whenever we made love, but this time it was laced with something else—something deeper than just carnal hunger. However, in my lust-addled frame of mind, I found myself quite unable to put a finger on it. I abandoned the train of thought for the moment. My mind could handle one thing, and one thing only. After unbuttoning my jeans, he proceeded to pull them off. I raised my hips to help him, and watched for the expression on his face as he discovered the thin, black, lacy underwear underneath. Regardless of the frayed state of my nerves, I was able to grin a bit at the sight. At that moment, there were many things I could have said. However, instead of conveying to him how badly I wanted him at the moment, or how amazing he was, or how much I—dare I say it — loved him, I said, "Take off your shirt." He readily complied with this request, crossing his arms across his torso to pull the t-shirt he was wearing over his head. I delighted in the sight of his muscles flexing and stretching with the action. The light layer of hair that spanned his pectorals never ceased to catch my attention and make me want to touch him. Never had I seen a more manly or delectable sight. Involuntarily, I reached out a hand to touch his taught stomach. My action seemed to freeze him in place—his hands dropped to his sides and his eyes closed, as if he were reveling in the pleasure of my light touch. However, as my hand traveled downward to his pants, he snapped out of his trance. As his hand closed over mine, restraining any further advances, it became clear to me that he wished to be entirely in control. The look in his eyes hardened, silently reprimanding me for distracting him from his goal of rendering me a puddle of goo for his toying pleasure. And here I was, thinking he couldn't get any sexier. "Not so fast, my dear," he said. His accented voice was impossibly low and husky. "I intend to have my way with you exactly how I want to. I intend to make you mine." Needless to say, that shut me up—figuratively speaking, of course. There was no way in hell I could have formed a sensible sentence at that point in time. And with that statement, he leaned over me once more, capturing me with his gaze. My writhing had stopped for the moment as I was still recovering from the impact of his words. It wasn't until his chest hair brushed my breasts and I felt his hot breath on my lips that I came to. The kiss we shared seemed to communicate the same emotion his eyes had before—except with the addition of the steeliness of his will, his desire to make me his. His tongue overpowered mine; his teeth bit my lower lip; his fingers dug into me, sure to leave a mark. I found myself whimpering at his actions. Never before had I made such sounds. His hand strayed down my body, coming to rest between my legs. At this, he emitted a deep groan, doubtlessly feeling the wetness that had pooled behind the thin lace of my undergarments. "Oh my god... you're so wet... so hot... for me..." he panted brokenly. His mouth abandoned the spine-melting kiss and continued its travels down my torso. I opened my eyes and looked down, seeing his brown curly mass of hair hovering above my stomach, his pink tongue darting out every now and then to tease my quivering abdomen. The sight was too sexy to handle. I put my hands on his head, attempting to push him farther down, but he resisted, making it perfectly clear that I could not rush him. Eventually, his teasing mouth reached my pussy—unfortunately still clad in lace. To my surprise, he began laving my pussy through the lace, lapping up my juices as they seeped through the fabric. I emitted an inhuman noise as my pussy finally received the attention it had been sorely lacking. Planting one final kiss on my covered, sopping cunt, he sat back up and pulled my panties off. He took a couple moments to rake his gaze over my exposed body. Through heavily lidded eyes, I discerned a sizeable bulge beneath the fabric of his jeans. It pleased me to perceive that I wasn't the only one suffering through this deliciously torturing foreplay. However, he didn't seem to be inclined to alleviate his situation. Instead, he scooted further down the couch so that he was vis-à-vis my swollen pussy, looking at it like it was the most beautiful thing he'd seen. I squealed at the first touch of his tongue on my cunt. He drew his tongue from the bottom to the top, stopping to suck on my clit in passing before repeating the move again. He seemed intent on exploring every fold and crevice of my sex before allowing me the oblivion of orgasm. My hips, at this point, could not keep still. He wrapped his arms around my ass and held me tight against his face, determined to have his way and his way only. After a few more minutes of torture—and my continuous moaning of his name and pleadings to let me cum—he finally centered his attention on my throbbing clit. He sucked it into his mouth, circling the sensitive nub deliciously with his tongue. My hands buried themselves in his hair, signaling him not to stop—this time, he did not resist. The sensations he was producing within me caused all vocal action on my part to cease—all I could do was remember to breathe, and breathe I did in harsh, rasping breaths. Suddenly, all I was aware of was a gentle but insistent sucking on my clit—only a few seconds of this and I was gone. I must admit that I can't be entirely responsible for the sounds I made while the orgasm ran its duration. Stars danced before my eyes and I could feel my pussy muscles clenching and releasing, pulsing in the ecstasy of release. Eventually—it could have been seconds or hours—he lifted his mouth from my soaking cunt, and kissed his way wetly up my torso once more. He kissed me then, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, forcing me to taste myself on him. The flavor was incredibly erotic—I drank myself from him greedily. Then, he was gone. "I can't bear this any longer—I must have you," he said harshly, standing up suddenly and unbuttoning his pants. My eyes soaked up the vision of him naked, olive-skinned and muscular. His cock stood out proudly from between his legs, the darkened hue of it evidenced his likely painful state of arousal. He didn't award me much time looking at his glorious body. Suddenly, he was back on top of me. Before I could register it, I felt the head of his cock pressing into my still-sensitive opening. I clutched his shoulders, digging my nails in and moaning my approval. He bit my neck and held on, breathing deeply through his nose. At that moment I became aware of how much self-restraint it had take on his part not to just grab me and fuck me like an animal ten minutes ago. All thoughts, however, vacated my mind as his cock bottomed out in my pussy. He didn't stay still for long, though. Almost immediately, he began thrusting into me. The manner of his thrusts was still controlled, though the power of his strokes betrayed how badly he craved climax. Each time his cock hit bottom, he grunted into my ear. After a minute or so, I became aware the he was saying "Mine, mine, mine" over and over again, as though it were his mantra. "Yes, Stefan," I panted out into his ear. One of my hands found its way to his hair, while the other went down to his ass. "I'm yours, I'm yours...fuck me ... " And with that, he abandoned all pretenses of control. He let out a groan so primal, so sexy that it was all I could do not to cum on the spot. Clutching my hips, he proceeded to fuck me mercilessly, angling his strokes so that he hit my g-spot every time. When orgasm finally did come it slammed into me, surpassing the last one, which seemed hardly imaginable at the time. My entire body clenched up, my legs tightened around him, my toes curled, and I was surprised that I didn't draw blood with my nails. I daresay I screamed his name—loudly, at that. At the same time, the steady rhythm of his thrusts broke, and I felt his cum splash inside me, accompanied by harsh grunts into my ear. These, I recognized as my name. Eventually I came down off of my orgasmic high. Stefan was slack and panting on top of me, his breathing bathing my shoulder in moist air. After a few minutes he brought himself up to rest on his elbows and looked into my eyes. "Wow," I said. He grinned, his face still flushed from orgasm. "I agree." "If I knew Gonzalo's renewed advances would get this response, I would have made sure they happened sooner," I said, grinning at him in return. "I just wanted to make sure..." he paused, an uncertain look passing over his heartbreakingly handsome features. I raised a hand to cup his face, and in response he turned slightly and kissed my palm. "Make sure of what?" I asked softly. "To make sure that you knew how I felt about you. I didn't quite know how to encompass it in words... so I thought I'd try actions. I could tell you were hesitant about trusting me, I know that asshole hurt you before. So... I hope I showed you that... I am entirely yours." I looked deep into his eyes then, and saw that expression again. However, this time I was able to put a finger on it—it was love. The same love that reflected back at him from my own countenance. "And I am yours—as you made sure of just now," I said, squeezing his ass affectionately. He blushed—bless him. "I apologize if I was too rough." "Stefan, the only thing you need to apologize for is not doing it again in the future," I said, and kissed his smiling lips. Worth It In The End Ch. 09 After that day's phone call with my mother, I half-expected Gonzalo to show up on my doorstep to claim me as his property. However, no such visit was made. As the days passed, I began to be less and less paranoid about every ring of the phone or knock on the door. The walks to and from work and the time spent there became gradually less tense. After a week and a half, I had successfully blocked him from my mind once more. Stefan and I continued to grow closer after that day as well. I no longer had any reserved doubts about him: I trusted him completely. There was no doubt in my mind that I was falling in love with him. Every day was another adventure, even if we were just going to the university to meet with Beauchamp. Stefan always found a new way to surprise and delight me. Throughout this time, Stefan still has his leased apartment on the other side of the city. He usually stayed over at my place due to its proximity to the university, relative to his. Considering it was a 30-minute commute from my apartment, that was saying something. One afternoon when Stefan was busy with a lecture, I busied myself with preparing dinner for the two of us. It was our three-month anniversary—nothing to make a fuss over, really, but I wanted to do something nonetheless. It wasn't such a fancy dinner as to draw attention to the fact that it might be a special occasion. I had just finished putting the marinated salmon into the broiler and turning on the heat under the salted and oiled asparagus on the grill when I heard a knock on the door. "Come on in, I'm in the kitchen," I called, thinking that Stefan had gotten out of his obligations earlier than expected. However, the sharp clip of expensive leather shoes on the hardwood floors of the entry hall alerted me to an unexpected presence. "Well this is an unusual sight, indeed. The 'independent woman' cooking dinner for her 'boyfriend'," came a voice from the doorway. I stiffened immediately, the muscles of my face twisting into a grimace at the sound of Gonzalo's self-confident sneer of a voice. "And how would you presume to know who I am cooking for?" I replied coldly. "Lucky guess." This time, his voice was undeniably closer behind me. I looked down at what I was holding. Looks like the only weapon I could arm myself with was a wooden spoon. I was sizing up my chances of taking him down with a spoon when I felt his hand on the small of my back, and heard his voice in my right ear. "Ooh, making your dad's spaghetti recipe? He really must be a sight in the sack." "What the fuck are you doing here?" "You invited me in, remember? Goodness you're tense, let me help you out..." Gonzalo murmured in my ear. Goosebumps of dread trickled down my spine as his hands slid up my back to my shoulders, his strong fingers slowly beginning to work on the knots in my trapezius muscles. "There we go, loosen up. I wont hurt you." "Don't touch me," I snarled, and twisted violently away from him. However, he was faster, and stronger. Right as I turned away from him, he moved forward, pressing me against the counter. "Where do you think you're going?" his voice was silky steel. "Get the fuck off of me! What are you doing?" I yelled, hitting him repeatedly over the head with the wooden spoon. Much to my dismay, this did nothing to deter him. He reached up a hand and grabbed my be-spooned arm, sweeping it, and my other arm, behind my back. "There we go. The sooner you stop struggling the better, trust me Sarah." I can't say what took over me at that moment. Looking back, I blame those survival shows that purport that playing dead will get a bear to stop mauling you. Much to my dismay, the sudden cessation of my movement did not make Gonzalo leave me alone. In fact, the next thing I knew was his mouth curving into a cruel smile and swooping down to plant itself over mine. His motion momentarily stunned me. I felt his smile widen over my mouth, and he thrust his tongue out, assaulting my closed lips roughly. Gonzalo moaned into my mouth and ground himself against me, his cock disgustingly hard against my stomach. His hands left mine, and ran up my back to tangle in my hair, passionately for him, I'm sure. I had never felt more trapped in my life. My hands found their way to his shoulders and began to push. "What is going on here?" Stefan's voice came from the doorway. "I'm kissing my woman, what the fuck else does it look like?" came Gonzalo's growl of a reply. Now at that moment I would have liked to hear Stefan reply with a "Like hell you are," or just directing a solid punch to Gonzalo's perfect jaw line, but instead, he shot us an unfathomable look, turned on his heel and left the way he came, slamming the door behind him. I must have looked ridiculous, mouth agape, staring at the doorway. Gonzalo chuckled deep in his throat and took hold of my face, directing it to look at him again. "Now where were we?" he crashed his mouth into mine again. At this point, I would like to say that I managed to fight him off. I would like to say that I reached the Mace in my purse and gave that asshole an eyeful of the stuff. I would like to say that Stefan burst back through the door with a new baseball bat clenched in his fists. However, none of that happened. All of those self-defense classes prepared me for fights with aggressors who weren't 6'5'' and solid muscle. Somewhere in my mind, I made note to email my instructor pictures of my bruises as my shirt and bra hit the floor. When I came to, I was lying sprawled across the kitchen floor. Gonzalo was gone, but the memories of him were still fresh. I gradually took stock of my physical condition. I could feel bruises and welts beginning to form on my hips and thighs. A sizeable bump was forming on my head where it had made contact with the floor. Groaning, I moved to sit up. I had no idea how long I had been lying there, but all my muscles complained with stiffness. My clothes lay scattered across the floor. Some were in pieces, a result of ripping. Instinctively, I curled into myself. I was naked, cold, sore, shaking, and very alone. Worth It In The End Ch. 10 "Where is that man of yours, Sarah? He hasn't been by to see me for a week," Beauchamp asked. A week had passed since Stefan walked in on what appeared to be a passionate kiss between myself and an ex-lover, but was anything but. The fact that he hadn't stopped by or called or should have bothered me more, but I was still so stunned by the rape that nothing felt real anyway. "I don't know, I haven't heard from him." "Well, that is most bizarre. You two seemed to be hitting it off so well." I didn't answer. "Well. I guess there's nothing else to discuss. Go on home and get some sleep, you look like you need it," Beauchamp said. I could have hugged him with gratitude if I'd had the strength. Luckily for me the bruises left by Stefan's attack were all hidden beneath my clothes, making avoiding uncomfortable questions much easier. The cold weather allowed for long sleeves and opaque tights, as well as thick scarves. I wasn't covered in bruises... although I felt like I was. I felt terribly vulnerable and alone and had the overwhelming urge to hide somewhere for as long as humanly possible. Exiting the building was always an ordeal. I was terrified that I'd run into Gonzalo or Stefan on my walk to the train stop. The possibility of running into Gonzalo mortified me for obvious reasons. My skittishness about seeing Stefan was more difficult to explain. He doubtlessly was thinking that I had tossed him aside to reunite with Gonzalo when he walked in on us last week. He probably couldn't bear to see me. Or maybe he was just disgusted by my weakness. Either way, I couldn't blame him. I was weak. As soon as I reached the safety of the train, I allowed myself to sink into the cold, unforgiving bench. The rumble of the car as it traversed the tracks vibrated my bones and gave me something else to focus on to avoid being overcome by my inner numbness. The music from my iPod filled my head and took place of thoughts, and I was able to zone out for the half-hour ride home. When the train pulled up to my stop, I dragged myself up out of my seat and down the steps of the train car. The walk up the stairs to my apartment was arduous, my heavy messenger bag hitting the backs of my legs with every step I took. As soon as I got into my apartment, I locked and deadbolted the door, sliding the chain lock into place. One could say I had gotten a little paranoid. When I was satisfied that the door was as locked as it could be, I dropped my bag and made my way deeper into my home. I still couldn't go in the kitchen without a tinge of fear, but I had managed to overcome that when I became hungry enough. I put on some water to boil for tea, and went to the bathroom to take a hot shower. Stripping my clothes in the bathroom, I looked at myself in the full-length mirror that hung from the bathroom door. My hair looked greasy and hung in strings around my face. My skin was pale and drawn, and the dark circles under my eyes proclaimed my insomnia. Standing naked in front of the mirror, I noticed that my ribs and hipbones were starting to poke out. I really need to eat more... I told myself. However, I knew it wouldn't really happen. The bruises on my hips and chest were starting to turn greenish yellow. I could still see the clear finger-marks. Turning away from my near Holocaust-victim appearance, I sheltered myself in the warm humidity of the shower stall. I pulled the curtain close, blocking out as much light as I could. I leaned against the cold tile of the wall and slid down slowly until I was seated on the shower floor. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, allowing the water to bathe me completely. I wrapped my arms around myself and huddled down, feeling the warmth of the water begin to seep through my skin and warm my muscles. I was just relaxing into a steam-induced haze when I heard the knocking begin at the door. I instinctively froze, but relaxed a second later remembering my deadbolt and chain-lock. Whoever it was would soon be convinced of the apartment's emptiness and leave. However, the knocking continued, growing louder and more persistent. I waited a few more minutes, and still they didn't go away. I slowly pulled myself up and turned off the water, deciding to go and see who it was and persuade them to go the fuck away. I reached for my large robe and tied it securely about my person, making sure it hid my form completely. Pulling my hair back into a sloppy, wet ponytail, I left the bathroom and made my way towards the door. I undid the deadbolt but left the chain-lock in place so that whoever it was wouldn't be able to push his or her way in. Opening the door a crack, I peeked around to see who it was. And there stood Stefan. "I knew you were in there," he said. "Will you let me in?" "How did you know I was here?" I asked, ignoring his second question. "I saw you go inside the building..." "Were you following me?" I asked, apprehension beginning to build inside of me. I was slightly reassured by the presence of the door between us, but I didn't feel like it was enough. I began pulling back. "No! – Well, kind of. Listen to me, Sarah," he put a hand up to stop me from closing the door. "I've been driving myself crazy replaying what I saw last week. I had to come over here and... and talk," he finished rather lamely. He didn't say anything further, but his eyes silently begged entry. Reluctantly, reasoning that I should get this over with sooner rather than later, I undid the chain-lock and opened the door. I turned away immediately to go tend to the howling teakettle, assuming he'd let himself in. I heard the door close and shuddered. "Sarah, I'm sorry I came here unannounced. I just wanted to... wanted to know. For sure." "What did you want to know?" I asked, pouring a mug of strong black tea. "I want to know why you... why you and Gonzalo..." he faltered. "Spit it out." "I wanted to know why you went back to him." The silence hung between us. My heart hammered in my chest at his words. Anger coursed through my veins. Part of me relished in the feeling—it was the first emotion I had felt in a week. I gave into it. "How dare you." I seethed, not bothering to face him. "What?" he asked, perplexed. "I said how DARE you come into my house and accuse me of going back to him!" "I didn't—" "That's right! You didn't!" I whirled to face him. He took a step back. "You didn't stand up for yourself! You didn't make him stop! You just LEFT! Just like that! You turned around and left me with that... that... rapist!" Stefan stood stock still beneath my tirade, staring at me with a shocked expression on his face. Slowly, he began to realize that something was horribly wrong. About fucking time, I thought to myself bitterly. I couldn't bear to watch the realization dawn on his face so I turned back to the mugs, bracing myself on the counter to still my shaking. The indulgent rage was leaving my body, leaving me weak. "What are you saying, Sarah?" he asked, his voice a different tone entirely. It took me a while to answer. "I'm saying... that Gonzalo came into my apartment... and ... raped me... and you didn't... even...try... to stop him." At that point the shaking was starting to take me over. I could feel the sobs welling in my throat, the same sobs that had been bottling up for a week now. "Sarah, I—" "You should... leave..." I said, turning towards him, trying to keep the tears from overflowing. I gestured towards the door. "Sarah, stop, I—" "Leave, Stefan... please..." I took several steps toward him, intending to push him out if I had to. Instead of moving, he put his hands on my arms and held me arms-distance from himself. "No. Not this time." And with that, he pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me. I was powerless to resist. My body was overtaken by sobs. I shook silently against him, standing limp in his arms. I was dimly aware of his large hands stroking my back, murmuring calming sounds against my temple. I should have pushed him away, but I was just too tired. "Come sit down," he pulled me to the couch and sat down, me with him. We sat in silence for a few more minutes. I calmed down, leaning against his shoulder and breathing in deep breaths as he rubbed my back in circles. Once I had stopped crying, he spoke. "Sarah, I'm so sorry. I am so, so stupid. I had no idea what I was seeing. I only knew that it terrified me. I couldn't face the fact that you would leave me, so I ran. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I don't expect you to understand or forgive me... I just want you to hear it." "Stefan, I don't care." "What?" "I don't care why you left." "What do you mean?" "I mean what I said. I don't care why you left. All that matters is that you did. And there's no way to fix it." "Sarah, please..." "Let me finish," I said, pushing myself upright and extricating myself from his arms. "There is no way to take back what was done. He wanted to make sure I would remember him, and now I always will. There's just one thing... just one... that I want to ask of you." "What? Anything..." "Don't leave like that again." In answer, Stefan raised his hand up to my cheek. I closed my eyes and willed myself to accept his touch. My anger at him a few minutes ago was fleeting and momentary, and I realize now that it was just a way for my pent-up emotions to seek release. Right now, at this moment, regardless of past actions, all I wanted was for him to make me forget. He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand, and then tucked a strand of still-wet hair behind my ear. "Open your eyes, Sarah." I complied. He was looking at me with an unfathomable expression on his face. He slowly shook his head back and forth. "I won't. I promise." I had prepared myself for this moment somewhere in the back of my mind. Part of me knew that I should have rebuffed his excuses, scoffed at his promises, and shut the door in his face. However, a larger part of me believed his sincerity and I gave into that part. Slowly, looking into his eyes, I nodded. He slid his hand beneath my jaw and into my tangled wet hair, cupping the base of my skull. He leaned in. I knew he was going to kiss me. I kept still. Ever so gently, Stefan lowered his lips to mine, as if I were made of porcelain and would break under the slightest pressure. He slowly molded his lips to mine, allowing me to become comfortable with his presence. Thankfully, he didn't push. He held the kiss for a minute longer, and then pulled back. "I love you, Sarah," he said. His face was a mix of emotions: grief, relief, sadness, and love all warred for dominance of his features. "I fucked up... so badly... and I know that you have every right to slap me and push me out of your life forever... but I hope you won't because I can't bear to live without you." I closed my eyes and leaned back against his body, grateful for his warmth. I couldn't feel anything. I believed what he said, but at the same time how could I trust that at the next sign of trouble he wouldn't turn tail and flee again? However, I completely agreed with one thing that he said. I couldn't imagine life without him either. For better or worse, if I wanted him in my life I would have to work to trust him again. He was a risk I would have to take. As his arms wrapped around me again, holding me tightly against his body, I let the beating of his heart lull me to sleep. Worth It In The End Ch. 11 I woke up lying in bed. My hair was dry, and I was dressed in my pajamas and covered with a down blanket. The room was dim. I looked at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was just past eight. Whether it was AM or PM I couldn't tell. Closing my eyes again, I struggled to remember how I had ended up here. Slowly I pieced together my confrontation with Stefan from earlier. I couldn't remember all of the specifics, just the anger rising within and draining me. I couldn't recall what happened after that, so I figured I must have passed out. I hadn't slept for more than two hours a night in the past week, and I felt like a new person after my slumber. Suddenly I heard clanging noises coming from the kitchen. I stiffened immediately, eyes widened and ears perked. However, it didn't sound like someone was breaking in. It sounded like someone was moving around pots and pans in my kitchen. The smell of cooking food filling my nose affirmed this conclusion. I vaguely wondered if my mother or Jack had let themselves in and were cooking some food. Pushing the heavy blanket off of my body, I lowered my feet to the ground. Finding my robe, I stood up and slipped it on, tying it securely around my waist. Opening the door from the bedroom, I looked around the corner to see who was in the kitchen. Stefan was standing in front of the stove, wearing my apron and cutting something on the counter. I could smell garlic and marinara sauce and the delicious smell of cooking meat. I closed the door behind me, and the sound made him turn. "I was just wondering if you'd ever wake up," he said, offering me a shy smile. "Is it morning or night?" I asked, a little surprised at the hoarse sound of my voice. It felt like I hadn't spoken in days. "It's evening. I'm making dinner... spaghetti and meatballs," he answered, gesturing to the stove. I walked over slowly and joined him in the kitchen. "It smells wonderful." "I'm glad... I hope it tastes good, too. I hope you don't mind my doing this... you just look like you haven't eaten in days... I know it's been hard, I just wanted to—" I cut him off by putting a silencing hand on his shoulder. He turned to face me questioningly. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him softly on the lips. "Thank you. This is really sweet." My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. "And yes, I am starving," I said, offering him a smile. It felt surprisingly good to have someone here. I welcomed his presence; I had not realized how much harder life was for the past week. I dimly realized that some time during my unconscious hours, I forgave him. Just thinking those words made a bit of warmth enter my heart. Did he tell me he loved me yesterday? I walked over to the other side of the counter and sat down on a bar stool facing him. "You look better already. You slept for a long time," he said, looking at me appreciatively. "Do you mean to tell me that it's been a day and not just a few hours?" "Yeah. I came here to talk to you yesterday," he answered, amused at the realization that dawned on my face. "Damn. I need to call Beauchamp..." I said, getting up. He reached over and put his hand on my arm, stopping me. I jolted at the sensation of his touch, and he jerked his hand away. "Sorry—I just... I already talked to Beauchamp. I told him you were sick and taking the day off." "Oh. Thank you," I said, sitting back down on the stool. I was still reeling from his touch. Now, back in my alive state, I realized just how badly I had missed him. Craving more, I reached over and touched his hand. He stopped moving and looked at me, hope and a question in his eyes. "I appreciate it," I said, mustering up a warm smile. He turned his hand over and interlaced his fingers with mine. "Please don't thank me, Sarah. It's the very least I could do." We remained silent for a minute or so, holding hands and looking at each other. Unspoken sentences arced between us: questions of forgiveness and answers of love and gratitude. I know I would never forget what happened, but I couldn't bear to let this man out of my life. Forgiveness was the only way forward. Reluctantly, he let go of my hand and went back to cooking. Every once in a while he'd look up and smile at me, warmth in his eyes and color in his cheeks. I had forgotten how heartbreakingly handsome he was. I found myself smiling back, answering warmth radiating from my body. I was surprised to find myself responding to him physically, expecting to react by recoiling with fear. However, from him, all I felt was love. With my guidance as to where to find things, he set the table and poured two glasses of red wine. I went back to the bedroom and changed into jeans and a tank top. I picked a tank top that was a bit small so that it exposed part of my midriff, displaying the fading bruises on my hips. I wanted him to see. I wanted to gauge his reaction to see if we really could face it and move forward. When I went back into the kitchen, he was putting the food onto the plates. Everything smelled so good that my stomach audibly grumbled again. He looked up and saw me, smiling at me. His eyes traveled down my body with warmth until he reached the exposed skin of my midriff. His gaze darkened with what looked like anger, or maybe it was sadness. His eyes flicked back to mine. "Is the food ready?" I asked. "Yes," he answered, his features inscrutable. The slight downturn of his lips expressed his inner displeasure. I walked up to him and stood close, putting my hands on his arms to turn him to face me. As I looked into his eyes, I noticed that they were filled with tears. "What is it?" I asked, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He closed his eyes and turned his face into my hand, a couple of tears escaping and sliding down his face. "I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop thinking about how I just left and let him... let him do this to you," he traced the bruise on my hip with a shaking hand. I reached down and flattened his palm against it. "We have to stop thinking about it. He wanted to ruin us by ruining me. Please, don't let him succeed," I whispered. He opened his eyes and looked into mine. "How can you say these things?" "I want to heal and move on... with you. Can you do that?" "Of course," he said brokenly, after a moment. "Ok. Let's eat," I said, standing on tiptoes and kissing him. I let the kiss linger, running my hands up the familiarly smooth contours of his chest and linking them around his neck. He kissed me back hesitantly, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer. I leaned against him and deepened the kiss. I wanted him to know that I was serious. I wanted him to know that I loved him, too... and with love must come trust. Without one the other can't survive. I pulled back and smiled at him, hoping what I felt showed in my eyes. He smiled back, as though my message had been received. After dinner Stefan and I cleaned and chatted comfortably. I could see him start to grow more comfortable around me. His eyes grew less and less clouded with anger and grief when he spied the bruises on my hips. When everything was clean and put away, he went over to the couch and picked up his coat. "Well, I should be going..." "Not so fast," I said, walking over to him and taking the coat from his hands. He stayed still, letting me take charge of the situation. "You think I'm going to let you walk out of here that easily?" I asked, trying to be coy and allowing the warmth that had been growing within me all evening to show in my eyes. I stepped closer to him and put my hands on his chest. His heartbeat was strong under his oxford shirt, and I felt his chest rise and fall with the deep breaths he took. I looked up to his face and saw that he had closed his eyes, his jaw muscles clenching. He raised his hands to mine and held onto them. "If I stay... I don't think —" "Shh... don't think. All I know is that I need you. Now. Make me forget, Stefan. Please." I pleaded softly. I don't know what had gotten into me, why I was practically forcing myself on the man who left me alone to be raped by my ex-boyfriend... but I was burning with desire for him and I needed to have him. Is this what's called make-up sex? Or is it love-induced blindness? This time I stayed where I was, waiting for him to make the first move. He eventually let go of my hands and moved his to my face. He opened his eyes and looked deeply into mine. For the first time, I saw the familiar lust-darkened expression cloud his eyes, and I understood his apprehension. I sensed that he wanted deeply to fight back against Gonzalo and claim me; but that he also didn't want to push me in any way I wasn't ready to go. I know that the last thing he wanted was for me to be unwilling and to hurt me. This internal conflict, in some odd way, made me want him all the more. In an unusually bold move, I took one of his hands and slid it down and around my body until it reached my ass. I took the other and slid it down to one of my breasts, all the while staring into his eyes, which darkened further as lust took over. I stepped forward, closing the gap between us, pressing my body against his. I shuddered and gasped as I felt his erection press into my abdomen, but this time the shudder was in response to a jolt of pleasure. All of a sudden, his mouth was on mine. Gone was the gentle hesitation of before. Now his mouth claimed mine powerfully, his tongue gaining entrance almost immediately. His hands, while not rough, were active on me, squeezing and touching. Then, both hands were on my ass, pulling me towards him forcefully. He grunted into my mouth upon contact. My hands wound their way up his neck and my fingers were tangled in his hair. I should have been ashamed of the sounds I was making in response to his actions, but I couldn't bring myself to care. His thigh found its way between my legs and he pushed me against him. I ground my pussy against his leg, moaning at the sensation. All of a sudden, he was gone. I opened my eyes and saw him standing a pace away from me, breathing heavily and watching me with dark eyes. The apprehension had returned. I could tell he regretted losing control. I took this opportunity to grab his hand and walk him to the bedroom. He resisted a little at first and started to say something, but I silenced him with a finger to his lips. He relented and followed me to the bedroom. Once in the room, I closed the door behind us. He stood uncertainly. I decided that tonight, I had to take charge. Walking forward, I put my hands on his chest again and pushed him towards the bed, a seductive look in my eye. He felt the bed hit the backs of his legs and he sat down. Under the continued pressure of my hands, I eventually got him where I wanted him: lying flat on his back in the center of my bed. I got on my knees on the bed near his feet. One by one I removed his shoes, tossing them on the ground. His socks were next: I ran my hand up under each pant leg, caressing the lower part of his legs before sliding my hands back down to remove his socks. Once through with those, I locked eyes with him and crawled my way up his body, coming to rest seated on his thighs. Leaning forward, I placed one hand on either side of his head and lowered my face down to his. I traced the outline of his full lips with my tongue, slipping it inside when he opened his mouth. He sucked on my tongue for a few moments, moaning softly when I returned the favor. His cock, pressed snugly against my warm sex, jerked inside his slacks. I trailed open-mouthed kisses across his jaw and down his throat, stopping to blow on the moistened skin as I went along. His hands slid up my thighs and came to rest on my hips, the strength of his grip betraying his weak hold on self control. He was almost panting, moaning a little bit every time I touched a particularly sensitive area on his neck. I continued kissing downward until I reached the hollow at the base of his throat. Sitting up, I took a minute to look at him. His eyes were hooded with pleasure, indigo blue burning beneath. A flush was slowly spreading from his chest up to his face. His hair framed his face beautifully, the curls spread across the pillow. His lips were parted, his breath coming out in pants. In short, he was a beautiful portrait of aroused male. Slowly, I began unbuttoning his shirt. My eyes followed my hands' motions. When I reached the bottom, I pulled his shirt out from his pants and laid the flaps wide, exposing his beautiful chest for my observation. Giving him a wicked look, I leaned down and began giving his chest the best oral attention I knew how to give. I alternated licking, kissing, and grazing my teeth against his warm flesh. When I got to his nipples, I closed my lips around first one and then the other, each time eliciting a spine-tingling groan from the back of his throat. This was exactly what I needed: to be in control of his pleasure. I forgot how intoxicating it was. Continuing on my trek downward, I moved so that I was on my knees between his spread legs. I sat up and ran my hands up his thighs, avoiding his straining cock, which had left a quarter-sized wet spot on the light charcoal fabric of his trousers. I grinned to myself at the sight. I slowly undid his belt and unbuttoned the fly of his pants. While drawing down the zipper of his fly, I looked up and met his eyes, which positively blazed with barely restrained desire. I kept my gaze locked on his as I pulled the elastic of his underwear down and out of the way, allowing his cock to spring free at last. I licked my lips at the sight of it, eliciting a strained groan from Stefan. Leaning down once more, I resumed my teasing kisses at his lower abdomen. I teased his navel with my tongue, and slowly began kissing my way down his happy trail. His hands came to rest on my shoulders, gently leading me downwards to where he wanted me. However, I denied him for a few more moments, diverting my motions to graze my teeth along his hip. He moaned in impatience, trying again to get me to pay attention to his cock. Finally, I licked the very tip of his cock with my tongue. His hips jerked up reflexively, and he let out a long groan. "Please..." he begged. "Please what?" I asked, teasing his straining cock with my breath. "I can't take it anymore... please... suck me..." "Here?" I asked, placing my mouth on his taut lower abdomen. He hissed, sucking in air between his clenched teeth. "No...please..." "Where, then?" "My cock... please... suck my cock..." he begged. I couldn't believe what I was hearing: it was so sexy. "Well, since you asked so politely..." I answered coyly, and finally gave him what he wanted. I took the head of his cock into my mouth and sucked hard. I took the rest of his hard dick into my hand and rubbed up and down while my tongue collected the pre-cum that had collected on the tip of his cock. Slowly but surely, I worked more and more of him into my mouth. I couldn't believe how much I was enjoying his moans, the way his hands gripped my shoulders, and how his hips were jerking uncontrollably. Eventually, the head of his cock hit the back of my throat. I relaxed my muscles, and suddenly my nose was pressed against his public bone. This elicited a jagged moan from Stefan, his hands moving quickly to my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. I held my head in place, allowing him to fuck my mouth, overcome by the desire to taste his come; at that moment, I desired more than anything to prove that I wanted this. His hips thrust up once, twice, and then with a great groan, his cock jerked and my mouth was filled with his hot come. I swallowed all he offered, and licked his cock clean, resting my head on his hip as he came down from his orgasm. When his breathing had slowed, I looked up at his face. He was looking down at me, his hand stroking my head. "Come here," he said. I complied, crawling up his body and straddling his hips. He pulled me down and caught my mouth in a kiss, his tongue questing inside my mouth, tasting the come he had just spilled there. Moving, he pushed me over so that I was lying on my back and he was on top of me. "My turn," he said, giving me a wicked grin. Taking much less time than I did, he divested me of my clothes. I let him do with me as he pleased for the time being. However, by this time, I was so turned on that if he took much longer I'd just have to help myself out. When I was naked and lying on my back before him, he took his time looking at me as I had done before with him. I lay still beneath him, not trying to hide any of the bruises or other marks Gonzalo had left. Stefan's brow furrowed when he touched the marks on my hips, thighs, and breasts. He then leaned down and gently kissed each and every one of them. Straightening himself out, he stretched out until he was flying lush against me. My legs went around his hips. I could feel his hard-again cock pressing snugly between the lips of my pussy. I moaned at the contact, and he caught it in his mouth. He kissed me deeply, sucking my tongue into his mouth and biting gently on my lips. As we kissed, he gently rocked his hips back and forth, grinding himself against me. I slid my hands down his back and grabbed his ass, indicating that I wanted more. His answering groan in my mouth was all I needed to hear. When our kiss broke, he slid his lips down my jaw and to my neck. He grazed his teeth against my neck, biting down gently and moaning. I couldn't wait anymore. I needed him. "Stefan... please..." I heard his chuckle at the realization that the roles had been reversed. "Begging me now?" his breath was hot on my ear and I shuddered, digging my nails lightly into his ass. "Yes..." I hissed out, exhaling the air from between my clenched teeth. "What do you want, Sarah?" his voice was low and impossibly sexy, almost growling. He gently took my earlobe between his teeth. I almost lost it. "I want... I need... Please just fuck me..." In answer, Stefan pulled his hips back so that his cock slid down until the head was pressed against my opening. Slowly, he began pushing his way into me, stretching me to fit his cock. Surprisingly I wasn't sore, and I moaned aloud in gratitude both for this fact and for the fact that Stefan was finally inside of me. "Like that, baby?" he asked harshly. "God, yes..." He chuckled against my neck. He pulled his hips back and thrust into me again, and again, hitting bottom every time. My pussy was so wet that soon the sound of our bodies smacking wetly against each other filled the room. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked into my eyes while he fucked me. He was biting his bottom lip and grunting deep in his throat with every thrust. The look in his eyes was incredible. I thrived on it. Sooner than I would have liked, the tingle of impending orgasm began to build in my legs. "Faster, Stefan... Please... I'm so close..." As per my request, Stefan quickened the pace of his thrusts. He then sat up onto his haunches, grabbed hold of my thighs, and lifted me up each time he thrusted forward with his hips. This new angle caused his cock to rub against that spot deep inside of me, and my orgasm roared out of me. My back arched with pleasure, my fingers gripped the comforter, and my hips bucked uncontrollably with the pleasure of my orgasm. I was dimly aware of Stefan's answering moans, and I felt his cock jerking as he emptied himself inside of me. Exhausted, he collapsed on top of me, breathing heavily into the crook of my neck. After a few minutes, he had recovered enough and rolled over onto his back. He pulled me into the crook of his arm. I nestled gratefully. "That was..." "I know." He laughed softly. Worth It In The End Ch. 11 "You surprise me, Sarah," he said, turning his head to kiss the top of mine. "How so?" "That was rather... unusual behavior for someone who went through what you did last week" "Oh, that. I just wanted you to know that I meant what I said. And also some other things I can't put into words. It seemed the only way I could get my message across." "What message was that?" "That I... I love you... and that I trust you not to hurt me again... and that I forgive you. It just seemed much easier to show you than to stumble over words." "I see," he said, and then fell silent. "You mean it wasn't that you were so knocked off your feet by my cooking and good looks?" I snorted out a laugh. "That, too." "Me, too, Sarah," he said after a pause. "What?" "I love you, too." "You mean you weren't just knocked off your feet by my thorough seduction?" "That, too," he chuckled. When the silence fell, it stayed. For the second time in as many days, I fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.