Three hours and twenty-eight minutes after she was supposed to have met Ned for dinner, Nancy stood in front of the restaurant and sighed.
He's not here. There's no way he's here.
She had limited options, though.
She glanced down at her destroyed outfit and the change in angle renewed the pounding in her head. If she had known what would happen, she would've opted for something more substantial than the thin cotton sundress and sandals, but she had truly believed that it would save time for her to dress for their date before she left. Shallow cuts and scrapes ran up her right side, leaving the crusted ruby-toned texture of road rash at her knee and elbow. She had wiped off the bulk of the mud that had clung to her calves, but traces remained. She had tied the torn shoulder strap back together, but it looked haphazard, not casually chic. Her hair was… best not discussed. Or gazed at directly. She looked like a shellshocked survivor of a natural disaster. She needed a hot shower, a stack of pancakes, and a nice clean bed, not to mention…
Out of habit she slid the demolished cell phone out of her pocket, thanks to muscle memory more than any conscious thought, and scowled again, ignoring the way her raw-scraped cheek stung at the tightening of her skin. The phone's screen was so severely damaged that chunks of glass had fallen out, and it wasn't responding to any attempts to power it on.
Under normal circumstances, she would have just sent her boyfriend a text. In a pinch, she could have activated the location finder and at least had some idea of where he was. The absolutely abysmal coverage in the mountains had meant her calls from various landlines had gone straight to voicemail, and based on historical experience, he would probably receive them. In about twelve hours. Maybe.
Ned wasn't here, but she had to make sure.
She took a step and winced at the pain in her knee, then rapidly shifted her weight back to her left side. She was grateful that she had walked away from the crash; the cliff, from the bottom, had seemed to loom hundreds of yards overhead, and she had seen how close the branch had come to impaling her before her brain had stubbornly refused to process it. But the pain likely wouldn't stop reminding her to be grateful for a week or two. She'd ice it once she got back to the hotel. Somehow.
The hostess gazed at Nancy in open horror when Nancy strode in, as well as she could manage given the limp. "Hi."
The restaurant was nice: golden lighting, "rustic" wood decor, miniature chandeliers, silverware wrapped in generous cloth napkins, bread delivered tucked into cloths and placed in woven baskets. Nancy's original, pre-wreck outfit would have been fine, especially when her makeup had still been intact. She and Ned could have had a quiet, intimate conversation, holding hands under the table, splitting a dessert.
Nancy had imagined perfect, uninterrupted dates far, far more than she had experienced them. In her head, the version of her with flawless time management skills had been on so many incredible dates with Ned. That version of her had great hair, too.
The polished smile the hostess likely wore otherwise didn't make an appearance; instead, Nancy saw uncertainty, disgust, and fear in her expression. "Miss…"
Nancy held up a palm. Three and a half hours. Ned was patient, but no one was that patient. "I called here looking for Mr. Nickerson. Just confirm he isn't here and I'll stop scaring away customers."
"Oh. I…"
Another server approached. While Nancy had experienced her share of embarrassing, humiliating situations in her short life, the new arrival seemed intent on rushing Nancy out, and his lip kept trying to curve into an aborted sneer. The effect was undercut; the staff members were barely a year older than Nancy, at a glance.
"He's been gone at least two hours," he confirmed.
Well. That was it, then.
He wasn't at the hotel, either. Nancy tried calling from the lobby and pounding on his door, to no response. No note was waiting for her at the front desk, which didn't surprise her. He likely had no idea her phone had been destroyed, and any attempts he'd made to contact her were fruitless.
It would be sweet. It was sweet, that when she had missed their date he had gone looking for her. But she was exhausted and wished fiercely that her phone would knit itself back together and start working again.
Bess picked up on the first ring, and Nancy slumped to the floor beside her bed in relief. "Hello?"
"I'm back at the hotel." Nancy's eyes closed, and she wasn't sure how long it would take for her to find the strength to open them again. Her knee felt like it was on fire, pounding dully with every beat of her heart. She could feel where the bruises were going to form, and just as she remembered she needed to find some ice, she realized how utterly exhausted she was. "Any word?"
"No. Not at all."
Nancy groaned, swiping a hand over her weary face, and felt grit on her skin. Ruined makeup, dirt, probably a scab she had just rubbed away. "Text him that I'm back, please. At the hotel. That's all."
After assuring her best friend that she would be fine—probably, eventually—Nancy hung up.
Then she woke up with a jerk, her scraped cheek against rough carpet, with no recollection of putting her head down and closing her eyes. She was so tired. Hungry, too, but too tired to eat.
Standing had to be managed in stages. She almost fell asleep again before rising to her feet, and debated what to do for entirely too long. The minibar offered a frosty-cold bottle of water that had Nancy's eyes opening wide on the first frigid slug. Then she staggered to the bathroom, her limp more pronounced than ever.
The dress was ruined. Between blood, mud, and crash damage, everything else she wore was too. She had distantly realized a strap had pulled free of her sandal sole in the process, and she wrestled the shoes off in twice the time it should have taken. God, her headache had gotten worse.
The water was too hot, and Nancy sucked in a sharp inhaled scream as the thin jets of scalding water struck her barely-scabbed wounds. She hadn't even attempted to comb her mud-caked hair, and once the rinse water was clear again, she tentatively tried some finger-combing.
Ned still wasn't back after she emerged from the shower and called his room again. She tried knocking on the door connecting their rooms. No answer.
His phone had text messages from Bess, and if he asked at the desk about messages, he would be given her "I'm fine and in my room, call me" message. Swallowing an enormous yawn, she dragged herself over to the desk.
Door is unlocked. Sorry we kept missing each other. Love you.
She slid the note under the connecting door, dropped the towel, and collapsed into bed naked, the bedside lamp still on. She was asleep before she could even begin to consider switching the light off.
--
Exhausted, scared, and famished, Ned nearly rammed into the automatic lobby doors opening into the hotel's lobby. His broad shoulders barely cleared the widening gap as he charged through.
Everywhere he went, he seemed to be three steps behind. Wherever she was…
The twisted wreckage of the car she had traveled in was going to feature in his nightmares. He already knew that. He'd seen the blood-smeared spiderwebbed impact marks in the windshield glass. The car and its immediate vicinity were empty, though. He had thoroughly searched, while gazing in disbelief at the height of the cliff. When he had approached it initially, he had been sure he would find her inside, in critical condition. He had prayed that she would be in critical condition.
Tia was in the hospital. Ned couldn't see her, since he wasn't a family member and Tia was in critical condition, in treatment, not in a room. Nancy had apparently refused treatment, and Ned wished he found that out of character.
She had staggered into the restaurant looking like a survivor fleeing a zombie horde, per the hostess, hours after she was supposed to have met him.
He just didn't understand why she wasn't responding to any of his texts.
She's not here. Ned was certain. He wanted it to be true, far too much, so it wasn't.
Ned tried to keep his fingers from drumming on the concierge desk as he waited for the desk attendant to check for any messages. "Ah! Here's one," she said, handing over a folded note.
Ned realized he was sprinting before he had even finished reading it. Someone was waiting for the elevator; Ned dashed past it, too impatient to wait, yanking open the stairwell access door.
The note was an hour old.
Ned slowed. She had said to call her, but she might be asleep. She had been through a lot in the past few hours.
He desperately wanted to see her, though. To make sure she was all right. She shouldn't have been able to walk away from that wreck, and maybe the doctors hadn't fully evaluated her, maybe there was internal bleeding…
He almost didn't see the white paper; the smallest bit was visible under the connecting door.
Door is unlocked.
Ned unbolted his side immediately.
The bedside lamp cast golden light over her bed, and she was in it, her hair damp. Her forehead was slightly creased. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing.
Ned released a long shuddering breath, sagging against the doorframe, unable to tear his gaze away from her. She was here, safe, breathing. He could see a scrape on her cheek, another on her forehead, near her temple. Probably he would be able to see more tomorrow, once the bruises had begun to darken.
She was okay.
He had been so desperate to find her, and she was here, and he was so keyed up and anxious that his mind was having trouble slowing down and accepting it. He had been thinking about all the options and possibilities, people he could call or track down, places he might find her. Maybe she was wandering near the crash site, disoriented by a head injury. Maybe her phone had been lost in the crash. That would make a lot of sense.
She was here. He didn't have to keep searching for her. She was here.
"Jesus," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. He'd been running on adrenaline and terror, and downshifting felt incredibly hard.
He took a few deep breaths, until he felt a little more steady, and gazed her way again. She hadn't moved or vanished.
His stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly, and he couldn't help snickering. Well. He'd call for delivery; he had no intention of leaving her. For all he knew, this was a hallucination thanks to some intense wishful thinking.
Leaving the door open, he found the handful of delivery menus stashed in his room's desk and flipped through them. Nancy had stopped by the restaurant to look for him, but hadn't ordered any food. He'd bet anything that she hadn't eaten either, and picked out something that would keep and reheat well for her, ordering it along with his meal.
She was okay.
He kept repeating it to himself like a mantra as he stripped and showered, as he toweled himself dry, as he dressed, as he checked on her again, as he checked on the status of the pizza order. While he waited, he crossed to her bedside and saw a shattered phone on the bedside table, the screen utterly destroyed. One mystery solved. He'd been half-blaming it on terrible cell service.
Nancy had turned onto her side, and her shoulder was bare. Ned took a breath, then tugged the blanket up to cover her. The room was chilly thanks to the air conditioning unit chugging in the corner, and he didn't want her to catch a cold.
Once the pizza arrived, Ned felt close to normal again. His phone had belatedly posted a few messages from Bess, and he had replied to let her know he was back at the hotel and to thank her for her attempts to reach him. God, being somewhere with no cell service was the worst, but Nancy's phone being destroyed absolutely hadn't helped.
He demolished half of the pizza without taking a break, downed an entire bottle of water, then ate one more slice before putting the leftovers away. He'd left the door open between their rooms, had checked on her periodically just to confirm she was still resting comfortably, but couldn't bring himself to relax in his room and go to sleep. The other double bed in Nancy's room was disheveled, and he wasn't tired enough to sleep in a near-stranger's just-vacated space.
The armchair, he discovered, was comfortable enough, and gave him a good vantage point to keep an eye on her. He stretched out, stomach full, body clean, and despite the awkward position, fell asleep almost immediately.
--
Light and pain. That's what Nancy woke to.
The blackout curtains were pulled over the window, but no light bled from beneath, and Nancy felt nowhere near fully rested. She felt stiff, like she had been curled in the fetal position while she slept, and maybe she had been.
Ned was asleep in her armchair.
When she saw him there, her entire body seemed to relax. He had found her, he was okay, and he was here. If he was here in her room, he likely wasn't angry at her for everything. It wouldn't have been rational, but sometimes their fights weren't all that rational. She didn't feel very rational, anyway.
She slid out of bed, belatedly remembering that she was completely naked, and as soon as she tried to put any weight on her right leg, had to stifle a moan of pain. Shit. She needed to ice her knee, and she had completely blown it off earlier.
After a quick visit to the bathroom, supporting her weight without using her right knee as often as she could, she limped back into the main area and glanced around. The hotel had provided an ice bucket, but she would need to get dressed to go to the ice machine. Shit. Just the thought of it made her wince.
Ned released a long, drawn-out sound that was half-yawn, half-groan, and opened his eyes. His bleary gaze landed on her, and his eyes widened for a second.
Yeah. Completely naked. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.
"Hey baby."
"Hey," she replied, her voice just as sleep-rusted as his.
"What'cha doin'?"
She sighed. "Realizing I need to ice my knee and trying to figure out what would be least traumatic to put on. Too bad they don't have robes here."
"Oh." Ned scrubbed his hands over his face, then tossed the blanket aside. "Be right back. Go on back to bed."
Nancy didn't need to be told twice. She moved back under the blankets as quickly as she could and watched Ned yawn as he collected the ice bucket, then nearly left without confirming he had his keycard. She had almost fallen asleep when he returned, keying into his room and crossing through the connecting door into her room. He dumped the ice into a whisper-thin plastic bag and knotted it, then came over to the bed.
Ned was in her room. She was naked. She also felt like she had been worked over with a pillowcase full of D-cell batteries, and the room had begun spinning gently, leaving her feeling lightheaded and nauseated. On closer inspection, not the most romantic setup.
Ned changed course, heading for her bathroom, and returned with a towel.
God. He was so damn thoughtful. He always had been.
"I bought you some food, whenever you're up for it."
At the mention of food, her stomach gurgled loudly. Nancy snorted, shaking her head. "I'll try to stay awake long enough."
"Pasta or pizza?"
"Whichever's faster."
"Pizza, if you want to eat it cold."
"I'd eat it—well. In much worse condition than just 'cold.'"
She adjusted the ice over her knee as Ned vanished into his room, returning with two slices on a napkin. She wolfed down the first slice, barely tasting it, chasing it with the room-temperature water from the bottle on her bedside table.
Ned had returned to the armchair and was just watching her steadily, his expression a pleasant neutral, although his brow furrowed whenever she shifted and winced in pain. She waited a moment after swallowing the last bite of that first slice.
"So what happened?" His tone was as neutral as it could be, she was pretty sure. And his confusion made sense. The case was over. They'd had the rest of their vacation free to spend together. Tia's stalker situation had been resolved; she no longer needed to share Nancy and Ned's suite, with Nancy sleeping in the bed beside hers, as a precaution. They had just been taking her luggage to the new place, filing that last report, tying up all the loose ends.
Nancy sighed and pushed herself up, then cried out softly in pain and shifted her weight. Ned half-rose from his chair, but she shook her head and adjusted her makeshift ice pack.
"There was a bear in the road."
Ned's eyes widened. "Shit."
"Yeah." Nancy's smile was bitter. "The wreck itself was… intense. I hit my head. Tia was pretty messed up. My phone was smashed, and I couldn't find hers. I had to use a land line to call for help."
"And I'm sure you tried to call me…"
Nancy nodded. She was tired, but awake now. "The restaurant said you had left. I called Bess and asked her to text you…"
Ned scrubbed his palm over his stubbled cheek. "Fucking shitty cell service."
"Heartily agreed."
"And you left the hospital AMA."
Nancy winced. She didn't always follow medical advice, so many times that Ned knew the notation for it. "Nothing was broken, Tia's sister was there, and we had a date."
Ned made a disbelieving sound. "Babe, this isn't perfect attendance at elementary school. Am I really that much of an asshole when you miss a dinner date?"
Nancy shrugged. "This was supposed to be a romantic vacation, and I spent a lot of it working a case and sleeping in a different bed."
Ned stood. "For the record. I would have been relieved to find you in a hospital bed. I saw the wreck. I was terrified about how hurt you had to be. And the hostess said you looked like a survivor of a zombie attack."
Nancy had to crack a weak smile at that. "I had to tie my dress back together."
"And your plan was that we would, what, split some appetizers while you slowly bled on the tablecloth?"
"The bleeding had pretty much stopped."
Ned hadn't quite been stalking toward her, just taking slow, measured steps. Now he reached her bedside. "I'm glad you're okay," he said softly. "Even once I saw you passed out in bed it took half an hour for my adrenaline rush to bleed off. You're sure nothing was broken."
She gazed steadily up at him and nodded. "Very sure. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I missed our date."
"There'll be others." He reached for her, cupping her cheek in his large warm palm, and her lashes fluttered down.
"I've missed you," they said at the same time, and then she opened her eyes and their gazes locked again. Her body felt warm, too warm for all the blankets, despite the ice melting over her knee and the cool breath of the air conditioner, leaving her bared breasts tipped in puckered nipples.
"The condoms are next door," he mentioned, his tone casual. "The bed's bigger. You know. If any part of that is appealing. Otherwise, we can sleep in here…"
She glanced down at the napkin. "If you carry me, I can probably finish this on the way."
She didn't quite meet her deadline, but Ned used the time to refill the ice bucket, close and bolt the connecting door, and visit the bathroom. He dug a bottle of extra-strength pain reliever out of his bag.
"Did they give you anything, or has it just worn off?"
She shrugged and swallowed the last bite of pizza crust. "Filling the scrip was gonna take too long and my insurance wasn't on file. I'll take some."
Ned shook his head. "Why settle for walking away from an accident that would have required the jaws of life for any mere mortal? Pain is for other people."
"You finally get it." She swallowed the pills with another mouthful of water. "I knew you were out looking for me. I tried to find you until I literally passed out."
"Exactly."
She smiled and slid between the sheets on his bed. "I can't promise that we'll take advantage of the condoms, but I'm up for some cuddling if you are."
"Definitely."
--
Nancy gave her reflection one last glance. Her makeup covered the marks on her face; she hadn't bothered with any of the rest. Her knee was better, although she was still treating it gently. Her burgundy faux-wrap dress was patterned with white and blue flowers. Her reddish-gold hair was braided and wrapped around the crown of her head in a style that she had nearly dismissed as too complicated, but Bess had been right; it worked. Nancy liked the softness it lent to her look, the few tendrils hanging loose at her temples. She didn't love the sandals, but they were functional, and she had only bothered to pack one pair, which were beyond salvaging. These had been the best option she had found at the local store.
She gasped, reaching for her makeup bag. She had almost forgotten her locket.
A minute later, she opened the door to see Ned glancing over at the television set. As always when he was left alone with the remote, ESPN was on, and three commentators were rapidly shouting and gesticulating over some coach's retirement. Ned wore a short-sleeved collared shirt in hunter green, a color that she always found devastating on him, and charcoal slacks. He looked incredible.
Then he caught sight of her, and she saw the same expression of warm, pleased appreciation on his face. "You... look…"
Nancy glanced down and fought the urge to murmur something self-deprecating. "You too," she responded with a glowing smile.
They had agreed to try a different restaurant, maybe thanks to some superstitious fear, and this one was more casual. The hostess showed them to a small table for two on the patio, which boasted an unparalleled view of the river and its banks. Ned pulled out Nancy's chair for her, and she shot him a grateful smile, then tried her best not to collapse into it. The sandals weren't helping her knee, and she would be glad to take them off at the end of the night.
They talked about Tia, who had been discharged earlier that day, about what they would do once they were back home again, about his parents' Fourth of July picnic. They relaxed together and drank a bottle of wine between them, and for most of the meal Ned was holding her hand.
This was what she had imagined, while they had been planning this trip. As much as her friends and family loved to tease her, that she wouldn't know what to do with herself if she had a truly relaxing vacation with no mysteries to solve, she had always believed it would look something like this. Soft, sweet, no urgency, just jokes and intimacy, lingering in the delight of Ned's presence, remembering for the thousandth time why she loved him. Being the person she was so rarely able to show him, and reminding him why he was so patient and generous with her. She didn't deserve it, but God, did she appreciate it.
This had been the finish line, and she had pushed herself so hard to reach it that after the accident, she hadn't been able to shift gears. It was time for her date with Ned, her chance to reconnect with him. Bleeding, bruised, limping, didn't matter. It could have been a soda and a pack of crackers by that point, as far as she was concerned. Ned and food. She'd been starving for want of those basic needs.
The waiter approached with Ned's dessert order. The cheesecake slice was disappointingly slender, but Ned had anticipated that with a backup order of a hot fudge brownie sundae. Nancy couldn't help laughing as Ned carefully structured his first bite, swerving to pick up a swirl of whipped cream, and brought it to his lips with an expression of rapture.
"I probably shouldn't feel jealous," she joked, slicing off a bite of cheesecake and dragging it through a pool of raspberry syrup with white chocolate shavings on top.
Ned shook his head. "This is a momentary fling," he assured her, once he could speak again. "My heart is still entirely yours."
Nancy smiled. "But no sharing?"
He composed another deliberately layered bite, then offered it to her. Her lips closed around the tines of his fork, and her lashes fluttered down in an expression of rapture.
"I would be jealous," he commented quietly, "if I didn't expect to see that look on your face again later."
She flushed very slightly. Ned was more than incredible in bed, and she could imagine that despite his assurances to the contrary, waiting for her to heal from the accident injuries hadn't been easy. She had told him she would likely be up for it later, and he had been quick to assure her they could wait, but she had seen the interest in his eyes.
Maybe they would have to be a little less adventurous than usual, given her knee, but she was pretty sure Ned could work with that.
He picked up the check despite her objections, and they headed back to the hotel with the sunset staining the sky, purple to orange. He offered her his arm, and force of habit made her try to disguise how much she let him support her as they waited for the elevator. No one was watching her, lying in wait to ambush her; she was safe, she and Ned were safe.
Ned slid his arms around her as soon as they were back in their room, the door bolted. Nancy's heart skipped a beat as she gazed up at him, then kicked a little harder in her chest, responding to the adrenaline that flooded through her. She had been alone with Ned so many times before, but at times like this she was reminded of how much bigger he was, the sheer physicality of him, his muscular build, the power coiled in him. Especially now, as defenseless as she felt…
This man who had never threatened her, never hurt her, had always made sure she was comfortable and willing before he had tried anything.
She reached up and cupped his cheek, and swayed as he caught her in a long, sweet kiss. She stroked her thumb over his skin, shivering when his tongue touched hers.
They couldn't get her dress off fast enough; they couldn't stumble to the bed fast enough, between lingering kisses, between the stroke of his palm, the teasing glide of his fingertips. They kissed and kissed, and when his mouth wasn't pressed to hers his lips were brushing her cheek, her earlobe, her neck. Laughter bubbled up in her, sweet and joyful—relieved. She was with the man she loved.
"This is how the other night should have gone."
Ned was smiling, but he shook his head at her breathless regret. "You needed to rest."
"Well. In a universe where I wasn't in a nasty car accident."
"In a universe where you hadn't run into Tia… well, we have a lot of missed time to make up for," he pointed out.
Nancy moved to push her underwear down, but Ned waved her off, vowing to take care of her. She settled onto the plush mattress and shivered when his palm slid against her bare belly, down her side. Then Ned stripped his own clothes off, and Nancy watched, her lashes low. "God, you look so good," she murmured.
"How's your knee?"
She glanced down at it, dismayed by the discoloration she could still see there, and flexed it experimentally. "Not up to much."
He nodded. "You'll be good as new soon."
"I hope so."
"I know it." He opened the box at the bedside and pulled out a few wrapped condoms. "Do you still…?"
She nodded. "Please. Yes, please."
He settled beside her on the bed, both of them completely naked, and they immediately tangled together, mouths meeting over and over in long, sweet kisses. She explored him with gentle fingertips and slow firm strokes, groaning softly as she felt his girth in her hand. "God," she whispered, nuzzling against him.
"Yeah." He rolled her onto her back, and at the feel of his weight, even though he kept most of it off her, her heart sped up again. "Shh…"
She was panting in anticipation before he even made it below her waist, but the stroke of his tongue over her already-peaked nipples was driving her wild. She stroked her hand through his hair, swirling her fingertips over his shoulder blades, and felt him chuckle against her skin. "That's right," he murmured. "You know you love it."
She moaned softly. "So good, baby."
When he finally reached the join of her thighs, she arched, crying out at the pleasure. Ned lavished kisses over her thighs, and then his tongue stroked over her clit.
She was so close, after waiting for so long, that her climax seemed to come almost immediately. Her legs were trembling, she couldn't catch her breath, and he didn't stop, not even when she tipped her head back and sobbed loudly. If anything, that seemed to make his stroking faster.
"Oh shit, oh my God!"
Ned pushed himself up, and she had barely relaxed when his thumb brushed her still-sensitive clit, provoking a loud cry that was nearly a scream. "I was wrong," he murmured. "You look so much sexier right now."
"Get inside me," she begged him. "Oh my God, I want you so much."
He reached for the condoms, and she was still shaking as she reached for the lube. He rolled the condom on and she slicked lube over it, and then their gazes locked.
His smile was warm. "I love you," he murmured.
She relaxed in response, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "I love you," she replied. "You're everything. Oh God, baby, please…"
He moved over her, and her heart was already pounding, but realizing how powerless she was, how much she wanted this, made her breathless. He met her lips in another long, deep kiss, and she wrapped her arms around him, her legs spread.
When his erection brushed against her, low between her thighs, tears sprang to her eyes, in relief, in joy, in need. At his first slow thrust she gasped, her lashes fluttering down.
"Okay?"
She laughed in delight. "More, oh my God, more."
"Greedy." His eyes were warm, full of desire.
"You have no idea."
They breathed in at the same time, and she saw, felt him tense before he slid fully inside her. "More?"
"Always. This is exactly where you should be."
He nodded, moving smoothly out and back in a few times before he nuzzled against her neck. He traced his fingertips over her hip, teasing-light, and she was already primed to cry out with the next brush of his thumb over her clit.
"It is," he murmured against her skin, his voice so low it was almost a growl. "I'll always find you, baby." His lips curved up; she felt the motion. "Even if you beat me to it."
She was so hot, so overwhelmed, and he was so—everything. "Oh my God," she sobbed. "Yes, yes…"
"I love you." She could hear the strain in his voice, the effort of holding back.
"I love you." She sobbed the words, moving with him, in time with his thrusts, shivering at each brush against her clit.
They cried out together when they came, the world outside the two of them completely obliterated by the force of it, the answered need, the perfect joy of being one. She arched her back even further and screamed again, desperate, undone.
They slowly came down together, and she realized she was clinging tight to him, panting, completely spent. The feel of his breath against her earlobe made her shudder.
"You," Ned murmured, his breathing still ragged. "Always you. Please don't ever scare me that way again, babe."
Her eyes were still closed as she snuggled even closer to him. "Guess I'll just have to cuff you to me for cases from now on," she joked softly.
He kissed her earlobe. "Promise?"