by Cabe Sparrow
She peered over the edge of her stairs, finding the living room and kitchen empty, the television on mute and a single teacup on the coffee table. She went back into the hallway, this time not missing the light coming from behind the closed bathroom door.
She walked up to it and raised her hand to knock, but the door swung open before she could. It revealed Turner on the other side, smiling widely at her, obviously having anticipated her arrival.
"What are you doing in here?” Watson asked with her hands crossed over her chest, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. Turner leaned luxuriously against the doorframe, his usual smirk and all knowing glance in place.
"You know it's not fair to pretend being upset with me for so long. It wounds my ego."
For a second, she pretended not to know what he's talking about but when he fixed her with a pointed stare, she sighed, "Well what gave me away?"
"Aside from the fact that you could never stay mad at me for too long, I know you would never ever leave me to my own devices if you were truly upset. Fortunately for you, I realized this a little too late and had already prepared my apology to you."
He moved away from the doorframe and Watson just smiled at him as she peered inside.
"You drew me a bath?" she raised her eyebrow at him, but couldn't hide her excitement. She had never really told him how much she enjoyed taking baths. Then again, Watson wasn't surprised that he already knew. He probably caught on when he saw the four different types of bath salts in her medicine cabinet and a similar variety of bubble baths.
Turner nodded and let her step into the steamy bathroom. She inhaled the soothing floral scent emanating from the tub and it relaxed her instantly. She didn’t turn around when she felt strong arms wrap around her waist and a soft kiss on her neck. She reached back and ran her fingers affectionately through Turner's curls, a guilty pleasure of hers that was not so secret anymore.
The low rumble of his laugh makes her smile, "So, do you accept my apology then?"
"Yeah," Watson replied, finally stepping away from him to take off her shirt. "And since you worked so hard, I think you should join me." Her green eyes sparkled mischievously and Turner just laughed as he shut the door.
"Now that's a peace offering I can't refuse."
The warm, soapy water and therapeutic aroma of her favorite bath salts were usually enough to release any tension in her body. However, add the soft but encompassing body she reclined against and she thought this is was close to heaven as one could get.
Resting her head against Turner's torso, Watson let herself finally relax, her body completely submerged under a plain of bubbles and her limbs intertwined with the man behind her. His arms wrapped around her waist and he occasionally tickled her sides in an effort to keep her awake.
Her soft chuckle echoed off the walls every time Turner's fingers traced over a particularly sensitive spot. She thought more than once about retaliating, but the relaxation in her muscles didn’t allow more motion than was required to sit comfortably in her soapy-water-Turner cocoon, thinking about nothing and everything at once.
Turner watched as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through the surface of the bath. He ran his hands up her shoulders and realized that the water had cooled and there were goosebumps all over her soft, supple skin.
Although the bath was an effort on his part to help her relax and enjoy herself, when Watson shifted and created a delicious friction in her movement, Turner was reminded that above all he was a man. In addition to melting his slightly ragged heart, this petite brunette had the effect of a resuscitator on his senses, sparking a fire in him that reminded him of the most primitive pleasure known to man.
"You want to get out of here. The water is getting cold." He murmured against her neck, unable to resist dropping a kiss on her freckled skin.
"Mmm, just a little longer, it feels so good."
His mind was already clouded by a growing arousal, but paired with her soft breathy voice, it was a deadly combination. He could't see her face, but was almost certain that, judging by her languid movement, Watson had absolutely no idea what she was doing to him.
Turner tried to be respectful, not too forward, still treading carefully, but his hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they dipped below her waist and traced over her navel, before descending.
Her sharp intake of breath alerted him to her awareness, but since she didn’t stop him, neither did he stop his movements. He moved his other hand to her torso, tracing the underside of her breast, fingers ghosting over sensitive flesh as he continued his attentions.
When his other hand disappeared between her thighs, Watson suddenly feels like she was weightless, body anchored by the hands roaming over her skin and the water rippling slowly around her. She didn’t think, didn’t focus on anything, her mind completely blank as familiar sensations overwhelmed her senses.
One hand instinctively clutched onto the rim of the tub, trying to brace herself against the heat building in her belly, as her body reacted to Turner's touch, one that she has known for some time now, but had never grown accustomed to.
It was as if with every time he touched her, he found a new untapped nerve, a new way to tease and torment her, leaving her completely defenseless against his seduction and with no desire to fight him.
Her heartbeat jumped and she felt Turner's ragged breath in her ear as his mouth travelled over her neck, settling on her pulse point; gentle bites to her skin making her back arch and her entire frame shake, creating tiny waves around them.
Her movements became more involuntary; she was simply responding to his strokes. With every shift of her body, Turner shivered, seduced involuntarily by the sensuous and gyrating movement of her body against his.
The soft sounds from her lips and the rise of a blush over her cheeks spurned him on, hands working in tandem with his lips as he spilled kisses on her shoulders, grunts muted by her skin as she spasmed against him, her release quickly approaching.
Watson felt the pressure build and found herself unable to stop it. She was powerless against the gentle licks of fire that moved across her skin, found no inner resistance against the anticipation building inside her.
When she felt herself edge closer, her hand instinctively sought out the soft mess of curls behind her and she tilted her head just enough to meet Turner in a bruising kiss. Her moans were silenced by his tongue as waves of pleasure coursed through her body while his strong arms kept her warm as the jolts of bliss subsided.
They didn’t stop kissing for a while after, lips meeting in a prolonged languid embrace as Turner twisted her around in his arms, her slippery flesh making him moan.
Eventually, Watson opened her eyes, breathing in deeply as she rested her forehead against his, the cold water no longer an issue as she stared into the deep blueness of his eyes, surprised to find behind the glint of lust an intensity that made her swallow.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, the slightly rounded tub allowed Watson to straddle his lap. He didn’t rush her, didn’t arch his hips to meet hers, even though the ache building inside him was becoming difficult to control. He groaned against her skin though, running his hands up and down her back, his fingers tracing her spine and leaving shivers in their wake.
There was no urgency in their movements and no words exchanged. Instead Watson moved just a tiny bit closer, until there was no space between them. With painful slowness she sank fully into his lap; a low grunt emanated from him as Turner buried his head in her shoulder.
It didn’t take long for the pressure to build again, but this time Watson watched the man beneath her as they moved together, bodies gyrating to some elusive rhythm neither could identify. The confines of the bathtub did nothing to lessen the intensity of their coupling as Turner matched the motion of Watson's hips with his own thrusts, the push for dominance succumbed to the delicious sensations igniting his nerve endings, making him relinquish control to the woman pressed against him.
Desp
ite her desire to concentrate, to watch Turner when he was at the brink of release and finding him at his sexiest when there were no barriers to hide behind, her orgasm returned with full force, body arching as Watson braced herself against his chest, short nails leaving pink marks on his skin.
The feeling of weightlessness returnd, sensations that drove her to the brink just minutes before reawakened her body once again. This time the knowledge of Turner's impeding release only spurned Watson on. His hands almost bruised the skin of her hips when he jerked upwards one last time, leaving her powerless to stop the heat spreading from her core.
His name rolled off her tongue in the intensity of the moment and it snapped all of Turner's restraint, pushing him over the edge. Pulses of pleasure coursed through every fiber of his being as he held Watson flush against him in an effort to control the almost violent spasms of his body.
Watson held him tightly until she felt him relax against her, his hands no longer clutched her in a death grip, but rather soothing the spots where there will surely be an imprint of his fingers later on. Turner looked up at her apologetically, but Watson just smiled and ran her fingers through his damp curls and leaned in for a gentle kiss.
"I'm sorry." He said softly, kissing the tips of her fingers after they caressed his cheek.
It was obvious his words went beyond the physical aspects of their lovemaking, but Watson refused to have him continue to believe he had anything to apologize for.
"Don't be, you were actually behaving quite well today." She informed him cheekily, hands running up and down his arms in an effort to deter the goosebumps spreading on his skin. Turner cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Your low expectation of me is very inspiring, thank you."
The sarcastic inflection in his tone made Watson giggle and the cold water around them made her shiver, but she made no move to separate from him.
"It's not my fault you act like a five year old most of the time."
"Hey, you're in no position to tease me." Turner threatened, and when Watson fixed him with a challenging stare, he changed their positions stealthily, pinning her beneath him and proceeding to tickle her senseless. He relented for just a moment, but Watson was prepared and flicked some water in his face in retaliation until he moved off her, grinning from the other side of her bathtub.
He looked so carefree, almost childlike, and unburdened by the weight he seems to carry permanently on his chest. Watson committed that image to memory, certain that if she could somehow keep Turner smiling like that, at least every once in a while, then she could handle any judgment or criticism that came her way. In particular, any that have to do with the man in front of her, the one she was certain she was falling in love with...
Chapter 15
Watson never thought that one of the perks of sharing her bed with an insomniac would be grilled cheese sandwiches at three in the morning.
However, as she sat at her kitchen table, a steaming cup of tea between her palms, she could't help but smile as the man in front of her flipped another sandwich on the skillet. She watched Turner contently, sipping on her drink, trying very hard not to stare.
Some women find their men at their sexiest in a three-piece suit or wearing nothing at all. Now that she had seen both, she found Turner most irresistible in striped flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt, in her kitchen, moving around like he belonged nowhere else. It was this moment of pure domesticity, just the two of them doing something normal together, that reminded her of the admission she made to herself.
She had known for a while that she was falling in love with him. Actually admitting it is an altogether different concept. Her eyes unconsciously fell on his wedding band as he expertly placed the food on two plates, but the feeling of dread that she usually associated with memories of his family didn't come.
In fact, if she thought about it, she realized it had been a while since she felt like she was competing with a ghost. There were moments of course, when he was not thinking and let a memory slip past his lips, but she could't begrudge him that. She would never allow him to feel embarrassed or ashamed about discussing his family. After all, not talking about them, not having things out in the open would not make them go away. She was still keenly aware that Turner had goals and plans regarding the Red River Killer that she didn’t necessarily agree with, but she was trying something new now.
Instead of dwelling on everything that could go wrong, she chose to indulge in little moments of happiness, soak up all the joy she could, and not waste her energy fighting against an elusive future. She might be stupid about it, may be going about this completely the wrong way, but no one will ever call her an eternal optimist. Instead of fixing things that have yet to be broken, she decided on having a little hope, a little faith in the man currently cooking for her.
Besides, there are more immediate concerns on her mind, a situation that could break this little domestic oasis before anything else had the chance to.
"Okay that's it, I don't like the silence. Care to tell me what's going on?"
Turner knew instinctively that something was bothering his bedmate when she didn't fall asleep for a while after they laid down. On a regular day, she would be out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. He loved that about her, that she could fall asleep and he could spend the whole night with her warm body pressed against his; a comfort even in his waking hours, keeping the nightmares at bay, and giving him a chance to relax when sleep didn’t come easily.
After the long day they had and the bath later on, he figured she would be sleeping as soon as he pulled the covers over their bodies. That did not happen.
Instead, the woman next to him kept tossing and turning for most of the night. When her stomach began to growl, he decided to make them both something to eat, and maybe get her to talk about what was keeping her up.
At first, Watson hesitated to explain, but it was brief and almost negligible, because she realized at once, now that she had let Eric Turner into her home, into her bed, and into her heart, there could be no secrets between them.
"It's Harper." She said, not missing the brief look of aversion on Turner's face, but she ignored it.
Some things just could't be helped and Turner's dislike of the older detective was not only reciprocated but also something she won't go near.
"What about him?" Turner asked, and Watson could't stifle the giggle that escaped as she watched him bite into the sandwich and grimace instantly, realizing it was too hot.
"Impatient much?" She teased, but Turner just narrowed his eyes at her and told her not to change the subject.
She took a bite, chewed, and sighed into her tea, "he's going to tell Rodrigues, and then he'll reassign you for sure."
Watson wasn't sure what she was expecting, but Turner's open mouthed, obnoxious cackle just made her roll her eyes and throw the sandwich at him.
"This isn't funny you know, no one else will tolerate you. They will petition your transfer to work with Hal Jones’ team the second the idea is even entertained and god, I could't even imagine what he would do. I bet he'd just put in his letter of resignation right away, especially after that stunt you pulled with the joint operation."
Through her rant, Turner couldn't contain his smile. He secretly loved when she got riled up about something, usually pertaining to him. Her cheeks flushed and she talked faster, but what got him most were her eyes. Those green orbs became luminous beacons of light, a variety of emotions flashed across her face as she tried to get her point across.
Still, he noticee that she was extremely tense, the slight frown on her face and the crease in her forehead were signs that this really concerned her. Turner reached across the table, running his thumb over her knuckles in a familiar soothing motion that he knows she liked, "Relax, he won't tell."
Watson raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, "Oh really? How could you be so sure?" When a sly smile spread over his features, Watson rolled her eyes, "And I swear if you tell me it's because he's in love with me
, you'll be wearing this tea."
"That's not where I was going, but even if he is, which I'm certain of, there's nothing much he could do about it now." The overprotective inflection in his tone amused her.
"Oh yea? How come?"
''Because," Turner said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "you're mine now and I don't share."
For emphasis, he leaned over across the table and kissed her playfully on her nose, that heart-melting grin intact. Normally, Watson was opposed to men acting so possessively, but it seemed Turner had taken down most of her barriers, made her act slightly out of character. It's that very thought that worried her. She knew she's been far too lenient with him at work ever since the file incident and far more so since they become involved. She knew that if for nothing else, Harper could make his concerns known to Rodrigues just on that basis.
Now that he knew about them, there was even more reason for him to voice his opinions.
"You're still worried", Turner assessed, catching her eye over the rim of his mug.
"Can you blame me?" Watson retorted, picking up her empty cup and heading to the sink, "I mean he already thinks you've corrupted me at work, could you imagine what he must think now that he knows we're together?"
She turned on the faucet, watching as it filled the empty mug with water, then poured over into the sink. She was so focused, she jumped slightly when Turner came up behind her, arms wrapping around her waist, chin on her shoulder.
"I think you underestimate yourself."
His candid declaration filled with admiration made her shut off the water and turn around in his arms, giving him a quizzical stare, "What do you mean?"
"I think you don't realize how great a detective you are. I think you're constantly watching your back, worried someone will undermine you somehow, and I understand where you would be concerned. You should realize that Harper was the one who groomed you. He saw your potential and now sees what you've made of yourself and he respects you for it. He may not like me but he still thinks you're a straight arrow despite my horrible influence on you so at the very least, he'll come to you first before going to Rodrigues, which l still think he won’t."
