As I was folding up the last paper bag, Carson came up behind me and put his arms around me and whispered in my ear, "I love how you hum when you put the groceries away."

I laughed. "I do? I didn't even realize," I said, turning to him.

"Hmm hmm. I can't wait to learn every little thing about you," he said, looking into my eyes.

"Even the bad things?" I whispered, looking up at him.

He nodded his head. "Yeah, even the things you think are bad things," he said very seriously.

He brought his lips down over mine in a tender kiss that quickly heated as he swept his tongue against mine and I moaned into his mouth. I loved the way he tasted, loved the way he kissed and the way he moved. He appealed to every single one of my senses and making love with him felt decadent, delicious. I didn't see how I'd ever get enough.

When I thought of all that he had revealed to me this afternoon, my heart squeezed. I hadn't even really had time to sort out all my thoughts and feelings. I was worried about the case, but I felt confident in his reassurance that everything that could be done right now, was being done. I would have to trust in that if I wasn't going to worry myself to an early grave before Christmas.

I could only imagine what Josh Garner was going through. God, his case looked like such a slam-dunk. And he had been framed by someone so evil that he not only sold human beings, but also didn't blink an eye at murdering an innocent young woman and then ruining a young man's life. I felt scared and sickened at the mere thought of his "business."

But Carson, my brave Carson. My heart burst with pride when I thought of who he had become, what he risked his safety to do for others.

I pressed into him and a sound of satisfaction came up his throat, vibrating in my mouth.

His hands untied the sweater belt at my waist and I laughed into his mouth when his hands started traveling under my sweater.

"What?" he murmured against my mouth, smiling and nipping my lips.

"Nothing. You're very talented," I said.

He shook his head, rubbing his lips against mine. "No, just determined."

I laughed softly, but my laugh faded as his hands reached my br**sts and started rubbing my ni**les over the cotton of my bra. "Ahhh," I moaned out, breaking from his lips and leaning my head back.

He pressed his lips to the pulse at the base of my throat as his thumbs circled my hardened peaks slowly, lazily. I breathed harder, tingly electricity shooting to my core and the blood starting to pulse there.

I reached my hand down to rub his hardened length through his jeans. He let out a moan and pressed against my hand. I raised my head back up and looked into his eyes, filled with heat, his lips slightly parted. A thrill shot through me at the hungry look on his beautiful face.

He leaned into my ear as he circled his h*ps against my hand. "I want you so much, Buttercup," he said, his voice deep and slightly strained. "I've never stopped wanting you."

I moaned. I liked that. I liked that so much. "Me neither," was all I could manage.

"Tell me you're mine," he whispered.

"I'm yours. I've always been yours," I breathed out.

Carson took one hand away from my breast and brought it down to the button on my jeans as he leaned back. He undid the zipper and then worked my pants down my h*ps as I watched him kneel down in front of me.

I sucked in a breath as he put his face against the white lace of my panties and breathed me in. I let out a small whimper. I was already wet.

He hooked his thumbs into the sides of my panties and brought them slowly down my h*ps and let them drop to the floor as he looked up at me. I stepped out of both my jeans and the small piece of lace.

For a minute, he stilled and rested his cheek against my stomach, his hands gripping the backs of my thighs. I ran my fingers through his short, soft hair and looked down at him. His eyes were shut and I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but before I could form the words, I caught sight of us being reflected in the mirror over the fireplace in the open family room area. When I focused on the view of me, no pants on, and Carson kneeled before me with his head now moving lower between my thighs, the sight of it made me lose all focus, a moan escaping my lips.

Carson urged my legs apart and I cried out when I felt his tongue dip into me from below.

"Oh God," he whispered, "The way you taste… it's like a drug."

And then he nipped my cl*tas I cried out with the ecstasy of it, pressing gently on his head to urge him on. If he stopped now, I knew for sure I'd die.

His tongue started circling slowly on the swollen little bundle of nerves, and I gripped the counter behind me and pressed more firmly against his face, unabashedly seeking my own pleasure.

"Oh, Carson," I breathed out as he grasped my thighs more tightly and pulled me even tighter against his face.

The pleasure built higher and higher as I watched the mirror in front of me through half-closed lids. The combination of sensory input was so overwhelming that when my orgasm hit, it was fast and hard, and I screamed out Carson's name as I pressed into his mouth.

He stood up and quickly stripped off his jeans, and before I could even form a coherent thought, he had lifted me onto the counter, so that I was at the very edge, grabbed a condom off the kitchen island, ripped it open, and rolled it on. He pressed into me, filling me completely.

I put my hands down on the counter behind me, as he started pumping into me relentlessly. He took my face in his hands and kissed me, his tongue thrusting into my mouth in tandem with the thrusting of his cock.

When he pulled away from me and pressed his face into my neck, I watched the mirror behind us again, this time watching the beautiful sight of his muscular ass contracting as he moved in and out of me. It was carnal and beautiful and I couldn't look away.

His breath hitched and he began panting into my neck, moaning out when his orgasm hit him.

He circled his h*ps slowly, milking his pleasure and when he brought his head up, there was a lazy smile on his face. So beautiful.

He kissed me again, deeply and tenderly, and then he pulled out of me and lifted me down. He took my hand as he led me into the bathroom where he tied the condom off and flushed it. Then he ran a washcloth under warm water and reached between my legs and washed me gently and kissed my lips quickly one more time.

Fifteen minutes later we were dressed and eating soup and sandwiches at the kitchen island.

We talked long after we had eaten, sitting as we held hands. We didn't talk anymore about his operation, or Josh's case. It felt like there was an unspoken agreement that that could wait for now, that it was also important that we get reacquainted again. For just this night, we needed to focus on us, just us. And so we laughed and chatted about what had gone on in our lives while we were apart.

Catching up like that felt necessary to what was going to come next. I didn't know how I knew that, I just did.

After a while, we moved to the couch in the family room and curled up together under a blanket and watched Zoolander on one of the movie stations, laughing and cuddling.

**********

Carson

We made dinner together, chatting more and enjoying each other's company. I hadn't been this happy in… I'd never been this happy. I knew there was a lot of stress waiting for us back in Vegas. And if there was anything, even something small that I could have been doing for Josh, I'd be doing it. But there wasn't and so for now, I was soaking Grace in. I enjoyed getting reacquainted with her, and I let the feeling that we were right, settle into my soul. I hadn't been wrong when I had thought that having her with me would make me stronger, stronger for Josh, stronger for everything. Having her with me was like lifeblood flowing back through my veins, giving me strength and purpose.

I opened a bottle of wine and we drank as we cooked, laughing and touching. I couldn't keep my hands off of her and it seemed like she felt the same way. Maybe we were making up for lost time, or maybe I just needed to keep reminding myself that she was here with me. Touching her gave me comfort, grounded me to the here and now.

After dinner, she got out a frying pan and told me to sit while she made a quick dessert. I drank my wine as she stirred a few ingredients together and chopped some bananas. A few minutes later when she brought it over to me, I saw what she had made and grinned. "Bananas Foster," I said. "My granny used to make this for me."

She nodded, smiling a gentle smile. "I know."

I furrowed my brow, taking in her sweet expression, remembering how I had told her that on the elevator all those years ago. "You remembered that all this time?" I asked.

She nodded. "I remember every part of that weekend," she said quietly, looking up at me through her lashes.

My heart squeezed in my chest and I leaned over and took her face in my hands and kissed her lips. "Thank you," I said.

After dessert, we got in the hot tub and she climbed on top of me again and a combination of wine and na**d Grace had me drunk in more ways than one.

We fell into bed, a wet mess of tangled limbs. She climbed on top of me and I lost myself in her as she rode me, her head thrown back, her br**sts in my face as I sucked and licked them, the sounds she made my undoing. I thrust myself up into her tight heat and came so hard I thought I might pass out.

After I got rid of the condom I had somehow remembered to put on, I pulled her body into mine and felt her smile against my chest, nuzzling into me again. I noted that she was breathing slowly against me as I drifted into the world of dreams.

**********

"Carson, wake up, baby, you're dreaming," I heard whispered.

I shot up in bed. "Wha'?" I breathed out, looking around, trying to orient myself.

"You were dreaming," Grace said again, urging me back down to the pillow.

I sank back down and ran my hand over my damp hair. I had been having that damn dream again.

"What was it about?" Grace whispered, pressing into my side and laying her cheek on my chest.

I sighed. "My mom… then Ara. I've been having it a lot lately. I'm not sure why."

"Tell me," she said, pressing her lips to my chest and then bringing her hands up so that her chin was propped up on them.

I could just make her out in the darkness, those eyes that I knew were clear blue in the sunlight, deep, fathomless pools in the dark room.

But I felt her warmth against me, I breathed in her singular scent, and I heard the concern in her voice and it comforted me, made me want to share the pain that came to me in the darkness of the night.

I told her about the dream, about sneaking out of the back room, about watching my mom "perform," about her suddenly turning into Ara.

She kissed my chest again, breathing deeply against my skin before she came up again and squeezed me. "Both were traumas for you, baby," she said softly.

"Yeah," I said. I knew she was right. I knew that that was the reason I combined them in my mind.

We were both silent for a minute. Just telling her about my dream and having her comfort me felt like a weight lifted off of my heart. I let it soak in, bringing me peace, contentment.

"It's part of the reason I haven't been with anyone since you," I said quietly.

Her head lifted. "What do you mean?" she asked.

I paused. "When I came home from Vegas, I looked at everything differently. I had never experienced sex as something that wasn't just physical, but emotional. It changed everything for me."

She squeezed me again gently. I could tell that she was waiting for me to go on.

"It's like, with my mom, I felt this fierce protectiveness, but I was helpless. And the part that I never could get my mind around was that she put herself in those situations. But then she came home and she was just… broken. Every f**king time. She did what she did at the expense of her own soul. I'm not saying it's like that for everyone. But for her, it was. I could see it and I couldn't do f**k about it. It hurt. And I was just a kid, I didn't get it. And so later, I don't know, maybe I went into it myself as some way of gaining some kind of control over something that I had had no control over in the past. At the time, I told myself that it didn't matter, that it was just something that made me some easy money, but deep down, I think I knew that was a lie. I don't know. I've thought a lot about it, and I'm no psychologist, but it felt like something that deserved some of my head space."

I sighed, gathering more of my thoughts. "Anyway, after you, I couldn't lie to myself about it anymore. And I realized that I didn't want to go back to the way I had been. The nameless hook-ups, the one-night stands. It wasn't even a choice, it just wasn't possible." I was quiet for a minute remembering silently the very first time I realized that for sure. The night I had gone to see Grace in D.C. and thought I saw her with her boyfriend, I had gone out to a bar and a woman started hitting on me. It would have been easy enough to go home with her. But I wasn't interested. Even in a f**ked up emotional state, I simply hadn't been interested–not in random sex anyway. I let the shitty feeling of that night wash away. Grace was here in my arms now.

I continued, "Anyway, then I shipped off and spent a couple years in caves in the desert…" I laughed a small laugh.

Grace smiled against my skin and rubbed her nose against me, kissing me again, showing her support without saying a word.

"And then what happened with Ara… in some ways, it brought up those feelings in me again. It's so hard to explain."

"You're doing a really good job," she whispered. "I understand."

And were there two words in the English language more beautiful, more comforting, than those two? In that moment, I knew for sure the answer was no.