Lila

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Hours. It had been hours since they'd spoken and all he'd sent was a two line text warning her not to call his phone unless it was an emergency, that he was working to get to her. Eventually, she'd gotten uncomfortable in her work clothes, and she didn't have a bag, so she went and found another of his huge hoodies and a pair of sport shorts with a tie waist. She looked like a child dressed in her father's clothes, but at least she was comfortable.

She'd tried turning on the television for company, then startled at even the slightest sound she couldn't quite catch because of it. She'd paced between the kitchen and living room. Down the hall. And in the entryway, before she gave up and lay on the couch. But she couldn't read or concentrate on anything.

She just stared at the wall and prayed he'd get to her. She would have sworn she was too wired to rest. But at some point her eyes drooped.

Lila had no idea what time it was when a quiet knock sounded at the door and she almost jumped out of her skin.

She was running for the door when she remembered his warning—use the peephole. Don't let anyone in who wasn't him—and she stopped. Slowed. She crept up to the door, stretching to look through the little hole.

It was dark outside, the only light from the street below. She cursed. But then he turned and she caught his silhouette and her tears started immediately. "Dane!"

She fumbled the locks getting them open and throwing the door open. He was inside in a flash, his face a mask of fear. He threw the door closed behind him, turning to lock it, then swept her up into his chest. She clung to him like a child, buried her face in his neck, inhaling his familiar scent, her arms locked around his neck, her legs wrapping around his hips.

"Lila, baby, oh baby, you're safe," he murmured in her ear, squeezing her so tightly she could barely breathe.

Her whole heart swelled. "You're here," she sobbed. "You're here."

"I'm here."

"Dane. I was… I can't…"

"Shhhhh, I know. It's okay. I'm here."

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she took his face in her hands and kissed him until she couldn't breathe. And he groaned and kissed her right back, stumbling over to the dining table to sit her on it so he could touch her.

His hands went to her face first, pulling her up to the light to check her, then down her body, examining her as if he could see through her clothes and be sure she wasn't injured.

"Did she touch you?" he rasped, his eyes pained and frantic.

"I'm fine," she choked. "It just scared me, and I was worried about you and—"

But he didn't let her keep talking. With a desperate noise in his throat, he took her mouth and pulled her back into his chest.

She buried her hands in his hair and kissed him, gasping and just as frantic as he was. "I need you," she whispered against his mouth. "Please, Dane. I need you."

"Oh, god, Lila, I need you too."

He slid her off the table to her feet, but didn't break the kiss, walking her backwards to towards the bedroom as he tugged off his tie and dropped his suit jacket to the floor.

She worked on unbuttoning his shirt as they walked, her hands shaking so badly, she couldn't make the little buttons work. "Forget it," he gasped and tore the thing from the neck down the front, buttons popping to the floor. He got one cuff unbuttoned, then yanked the other off with a snap, the button pinging off the wall next to them. Bare chested, he sucked in and lifted her up, deepening the kiss as he carried her the rest of the way to the bedroom, one hand gripping her thigh, the other behind her until he could drop her onto the bed.

"Dane, don't leave me—" she grabbed for him as he straightened and their contact was broken. But he shook his head, and just yanked off the shorts she was wearing—his shorts!—groaning when he realized she had no underwear on underneath them.

*****

Dane

He shook with fear. He shook with desire. His bones vibrated with a need that he couldn't even put words to. He had to have her. Had to be as close to her as two people were capable of being. He had to be inside her skin, had to know she was still safe and alive and his.

"Please," she gasped, pulling him back to her. She sat up and pawed at his chest, still kissing him as he got his belt undone with two swift tugs, then shucked his pants off.

"Lila…" he whispered as he crawled onto the bed with her, pushing her back and down onto the soft quilt. He grabbed the bottom of the hoodie that was already around her waist and stopped kissing her only long enough to pull it over her head, then sink down onto her.

"Don't wait!" she gasped again. "Please!"

He moaned. He couldn't speak. He didn't have any words. So he cupped her face with one hand as he kissed her, then pulled her knee over his hip and without any warning, pushed into her, bellowing with the rush as every nerve-ending in his body lit up at once.

She cried out too, and pulled at him. "Yes!"

Unable to express what he felt, he had to show her. He braced his elbows on the bed above her shoulders, curved his hands around the top of her head and thrust. Her head tipped back and she sucked in an open-mouthed breath as he did it again, and again, and again. No slow preamble. No gentle questions. He took her, desperately—then almost cried when she opened herself and welcomed him.

Her hands slapped on his back when she reached for him. Her kisses were broken and disjointed. The noises in her throat guttural as he invaded her.

It wasn't just love, it was frenzied need. He called her name over and over, and she cried his until they both tumbled over the peak.

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