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Just A Game	By : MoreCharahPlease Category: 1 through F > Chuck Views: 68647 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK or its characters. I am not making any money from this or any of my CHUCK stories.

Chapter List
- 24
- 25
- 26
Notes: Thank you to those of you who are still here, still sending me words of encouragement. While I still enjoy writing this story, your interest in Just A Game after 25 chapters now (and who even know how many words) is what really spurs me on. Thank you so much. For a first time adult fic writer, encouragement goes a long way.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK. I'm not making a single cent from writing and publishing this story.

Maybe it was during the car ride home, or maybe it was even before that, as we lie there in the back of his car, all jammed in together in that tiny little space, our legs and bodies tangled up. I didn’t know when.
   But at some point during the date, I’d let my guard fall away completely. I stopped caring about what the look on my face might convey, if what I said meant more to him than I’d intended. I wasn’t checking my tone, filtering my words. Or stifling the affection in my eyes.
   I let myself be in the moment, and I let myself feel what he made me feel. No second guessing. No over-thinking. No chastising myself.
   And when we walked into my apartment, there was no frenzied undressing against the door, no desperate falling over one another on the couch, no wild sex. Neither of us had to say anything as I let go of his hand and went into my bedroom to change. He wasn’t going anywhere. I didn’t want him to and he had to know that somehow. Because as I stripped down to my panties, I heard the TV turn on in the living room, and the comforting sound of his body flopping onto my couch.
   I liked that he didn’t just stand in my entryway awkwardly, instead making himself at home. I liked that he felt comfortable doing that in my living room.
   And as I pulled an old LAPD cotton T-shirt on over my breasts I’d released from the constricting bra I wore all night, I found I couldn’t wait to plop onto the couch next to him. Vegging in front of the TV was one of the ways I liked to unwind after a hard day “at the office”. It distracted me and I didn’t have to use my brain all that much. Especially on those days when I saw things, experienced things, that I’d rather not remember.
   This wasn’t one of those days.
   But vegging still sounded really nice.
   I walked down the hallway and turned into the kitchen, glancing over the bar to see the his just-barely-tamed curls poking up from the back of the couch he was slumping down on comfortably.
   “Want some coffee?” I called out.
   He turned to smile at me over his shoulder. That was a yes.
   Giggling to myself, I prepped the coffee maker, turned it on, and then strolled out again to the couch. He’d taken his jacket and tie off, unbuttoning his shirt a little and rolling the sleeves up. And he’d kicked off his shoes and socks.
   I wasn’t sure if anything in the world was more inviting than the sight of him looking so content and comfy on my couch. So I crawled onto the couch next to him, smiling as he lifted his arm to invite me to lean in. I did, and his arm fell around me, pulling me close as I faced the TV. And then I snorted softly.
   “Cartoons? How old are you again?”
   “A lady never tells.”
   I laughed. “Fine. We can watch cartoons if it’s necessary.”
   “It isn’t necessary. I just find them comforting. They remind me of simpler times.”
   His voice was quiet and thoughtful, and I knew he’d somehow transported himself back to those simpler times, for just a moment. I let him stay there, figuring it was the kindest thing to do, and I nuzzled even further into his embrace.
   I eventually pulled myself away to pour us coffee once it was done brewing, and then I hurried back, set the mugs on the coffee table, and folded myself right back against his side.
   We stayed that way for awhile, and I let him flit through the stations whenever he wanted to, never quite becoming too attached to any of the programs he stopped on. I didn’t care what we watched, frankly. All I cared about was how easy it was to push aside all of my worries and fears while I leaned against him like this, his arm around me, neither of us feeling the need to speak, just enjoying this peace we’d built for ourselves.
   I wasn’t aware that I’d even drifted off until I felt him shift a little bit, enough to stir me awake. Blinking tiredly, I pushed away from his chest and peered up at him. “Mm’what?” I mumbled, my voice a little gravely.
   His lips curled up at the corners. “You’re seriously cute when you’re just waking up.”
   “I wasn’t asleep,” I tried.
   But he just gave me a look and I shrugged sheepishly.
   Chuck let out an amused, soft hum and shook his head, and then he leaned in and kissed me tenderly, his fingers cupping my chin. I had half a mind to deepen the kiss, but then he pulled back before I could. “You’re tired,” he said against my cheek, before kissing it softly. His thumb stroked over the place where he’d just graced me with his lips.
   He didn’t have to say it for me to understand. I was tired. He was leaving.
   I nodded and pushed myself up from the couch, snagging the remote and turning off the TV, before stretching and yawning. My yawn ended in a giggle as I felt his lips press against my hip where my shirt had ridden up while I stretched.
   Then Chuck stood from the couch and we moved to the door together. He took my hand in his as we crossed the room to the door, Chuck holding his socks, shoes, jacket, and tie in his free hand.
   “You gonna put your shoes back on?”
   He shrugged. “Why bother? Just gonna drive home.”
   “Do you know how dangerous the ground is in Los Angeles? Like, glass and needles…”
   “I’m not gonna step on a needle,” he drawled, laughing at me.
   “I’ve patrolled these streets for a year and a half now, buster, and I know what’s on ‘em.” I arched an eyebrow at him. Then I went up onto my tiptoes and kissed him. It was a slow kiss. I simply wanted to taste his lips, feel the way his tongue stroked over mine.
   And then he wordlessly stepped back to the door and made to let go of my hand to open it.
   But I held fast. My fingers had simply just tightened around his, without me telling them to. And he turned towards me again, his features a little unsure. The look in his eyes was asking me what was wrong.
   Nothing was wrong.
   Plenty was wrong, actually. Too much was wrong.
   But at this very moment, I’d found something that was very, very right. And I wasn’t ready to let go of it. I wasn’t ready for goodnight.
   I wanted to hold onto this until…good morning.
   So I pulled on his hand a little and stepped back, away from the door. His brow simply furrowed even more. He hadn’t figured it out yet, so I decided to stop being cute and just ask.
   “Will you stay?”
   Chuck blinked.
   “I know it’s probably a little unconventional for a first date,” I said when he didn’t answer. If anything, he looked a little befuddled.
   “We’re not very conventional,” he said quickly, his fingers squeezing mine. A small smile grew on his handsome face.
   I shook my head slowly. “No, we’re not.”
   And then I waited for him to answer, patient, watching as his smile never dimmed, even as sincerity lit his brown eyes.
   “I’ll stay,” he said finally. “But only if you make me breakfast in the morning.”
   I hadn’t expected it. My laughter was sudden, happy. It wasn’t a sound I heard very often, and I realized as I shook my head at him and started backing towards the hallway to my bedroom that I’d only ever heard myself this happy when I was with him. Only Chuck managed to make my chest almost ache with happiness.
   Even now, with everything hanging over my head.
   Fulcrum and Chuck’s imminent return to the lion’s den and, and, and…
   But I was determined to live in this moment. I was determined to lose myself in this goofball who was still grinning like an idiot over his breakfast comment like he was so proud of himself for making me laugh.
   I finally moved around the room to turn off all of the lights and then I went back to lead him to the bedroom. When we stepped inside, I went to my bed, tugged the sheets down and climbed in.
   Chuck gingerly draped his jacket and tie over the chair at my desk. He set his shoes and socks down on the floor, and then he began to unbuckle his belt.
   Once he had his pants draped over the chair as well, he crossed the room to the bed and hopped in beside me, making me giggle with his antics as he scooted close and wrapped his arms around me.
   “Wait…” He pulled back and sat up, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, tossing it to the end of my bed, now dressed in nothing but his boxers. “Better,” he murmured, crawling back down to snuggle against me.
   “Won’t you be cold?” I asked. “You got a lot of skin showing, Bartowski.”
   He pulled the covers up a little higher over both of us. “Just don’t let go of me and I’ll be fine,” he said with a wink.
   Smiling, my fatigue creeping up on me again, I gave him a teasing shove so that he ended up on his back and I rolled so that half of my body was on top of his. We shared a look, a look that sent warmth spilling through me, and then I laid my head upon his chest, squirmed to get comfortable, and shut my eyes.
   My smile widened just before I drifted off, as I felt his lips press against my hair.

————————

   This wasn’t supposed to be a sleepover.
   And yet, Chuck was asleep on the other side of my bed with his back to me. He’d said not to let go of him, but at some point as we slept, we’d both let go.
   He had a birthmark on his back that I’d never noticed before. That wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t like there was a position that made it easy for me to see his back while we had sex. And it was a small one, barely visible in the darkness that my eyes were just beginning to adjust to.
   I let my fingers gently brush over it. For a moment, I feared I’d woken him up when I heard the quick intake of breath. But he merely turned onto his back and smacked his lips once, his head lolling to the side so that his face was turned towards me. I couldn’t help the smile I felt stretch at my lips.
   Chuck Bartowski was so beautiful and sweet when he was asleep. Such long eyelashes. Strong chin and jaw. Cute nose. And God, those curls. I’d felt them all over my body by now, and still I felt the need to feel them again. Just a little.
   So I moved my fingers up to gently brush a curl from his forehead. He didn’t budge, still fast asleep. And I bit my lip.
   It had been a knee jerk reaction, inviting him to stay. I’d done it because I wanted him to stay. No other reason. I’d wanted to lie here in bed wrapped up in his arms, with him in my arms, and I wanted him to be here when I woke up in the morning.
   I’d been half drunk last night. Figuratively, at least. I hadn’t had enough alcohol to blame it on that.
   But what I did have was a lot of fun. A lot of Chuck. And I’d opened up so much.
   I’d been terrified right before the date, wondering if this was a mistake.
   It wasn’t.
   My brain was evil, trying to force me back into the little box I’d closed myself into after…after everything.
   But this date wasn’t a mistake. Chuck wasn’t a mistake.
   I couldn’t even remember the last real date I’d been on. Bryce took me on maybe one or two at the beginning. And then we’d gotten so lost in the routine of work and home, work and home, work and home. When you saw someone at work all day, when you fought with them in the trenches so to speak, going out on dates wasn’t something you needed. At least, I hadn’t missed it. And I knew he hadn’t, either.
   If I’d thought hard enough about it before Chuck showed up at my door last night, I probably would have chickened out, locked the door, gotten under the covers of my bed, and waited until he left again. Because this wasn’t something I knew how to do.
   A real date?
   I let out a quiet scoff and turned onto my back, rolling my eyes at myself. It shouldn’t be such a difficult concept. But this had been an entire night of dropping walls, letting my guard down, letting Chuck really see…me. Not just the sexy vixen he fucked on occasion, but me. And weirdly enough, the scared me that was intermixed with all of the other me’s…hadn’t made an appearance. Not because I was surprising it. Because…I wasn’t scared.
   While I was out there with Chuck, eating dinner, sitting in the auditorium, watching and experiencing the music, running through the parking lot, squirming next to an equally squirmy nerd as we waited for the valet to bring the car around…there wasn’t fear. I was just enjoying it. I was happy.
   And now I’d asked him to stay over. And he’d agreed.
   This wasn’t supposed to be a sleepover but I was glad it turned out that way.
   Maybe tomorrow would be awkward in the morning, like it was after that very first night we met at the club and I brought him home with me. When we’d thrown caution to the wind and screwed each other unconscious, only for the next morning to be a little uncomfortable for both of us.
   No, tomorrow wouldn’t be like that first morning.
   I’d known exactly what I was doing, asking him to stay. It wasn’t fear of being here alone. I was ready for that fucker Fulcrum if he tried to come back. He’d proven himself a coward, though, and I highly doubted he’d do anything that would bring him face to face with me again.
   I wasn’t afraid to be alone.
   I just didn’t want him to go.
   “Can’t sleep?”
   He almost made me jump. How long had he been awake, watching me? I turned my head to look at him. The light that snuck into my room from the windows glinted off of his eyes.
   “I don’t know. I guess not.”
   Chuck grunted as he rolled onto his side and tugged the sheets up further, snuggling into his pillow. “Anything the matter?”
   “No.” I gave him a small smile and then looked at the ceiling again. “Nothing’s the matter. Just thinking.”
   “Ah.” There was a long pause and I thought for a second that he’d fallen back asleep, and then he spoke again, much quieter this time. “You aren’t having regrets, are you?”
   I frowned and turned onto my side to mirror him. “Regrets? About what?”
   “We talked a week ago about taking things as they come, not putting labels on this, and I assume that includes taking steps forward, uh…um…progressing, if you will, when it comes to…us.” He cleared his throat and shifted a little, looking unsure. “I asked you out on a date and—”
   “I said yes,” I interrupted.
   Chuck blinked and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “You did. In a lot of ways, you had to sort of throw caution to the wind, agreeing to a real date. Are you having bad feelings about that now? Is that why you can’t sleep?”
   I shook my head. “I was just thinking about how, for once, I’m not dwelling on the fear. This entire night was about enjoying myself, enjoying you.”
   His smile was electric, even if it wasn’t the beaming grin I’d expected. The one that happened so fast and so intensely that it sometimes made me feel like I needed to sit down before I fell down.
   “So you’re…not afraid? Of me? Of this?”
   “I was never afraid of you, Chuck. I was afraid of me. I’m still afraid of me. But I’m trying to power through anyways.” I bit my lip before I could tell him this was my first real date in years. What I could tell him, however… “Last night was the best date I’ve ever been on. And I mean that, Chuck.”
   The deep huff he let out sounded like it was half relief and half bliss. I loved the sound of it, the look on his face. “I’m glad.”
   “I might take some time, Chuck. And I can’t promise I’ll ever get to where…you need me to be.” I scooted closer to him and he shifted to make room for me on his pillow. I accepted with a half-smile and spread my palm on his chest. “But even someone as fucked up as I am, someone who’s failed at relationships across the board and not just my romantic ones, can tell when something is good. This is good. And maybe that’s why I’m nervous about it when I think hard enough.”
   “Why does this being so good make you nervous?”
   Because I didn’t want to lose it. Because when I did lose it, I would take myself to the tallest most active volcano and leap into it. Nobody would be able to stop me. But I couldn’t say it out loud. So instead, I shut my eyes tight. “When you’re shipping the rarest and most valuable china, you wrap it up tight in bubble wrap and foam and paper and multiple boxes to keep it from breaking, right? Because it’s incredibly delicate.”
   When I looked at him, I could tell by his face that he knew where I was going with this. And I was grateful that he didn’t interrupt me in spite of it.
   “I’m scared that there isn’t enough bubble wrap in the world to keep this from shattering into a billion pieces if one of us…drops it.” I winced at the way this metaphor was beginning to get silly. “And I’m not strong enough to pick those pieces up. I haven’t picked any of my pieces up from the past. They’re all still scattered everywhere at my feet. I have to tiptoe wherever I go. This metaphor is idiotic now, I went too far.”
   He actually chuckled and reached up to wrap his hand around my bicep, squeezing reassuringly. “No, no. I get it. Please, I’m the king of bad metaphors.” I smiled half-heartedly. “It’s okay, Sarah. All I can do is tell you not to be scared. We’re both working on this. It’s a learning curve, right?” My smile became a bit more sincere at that. “If you’re not ready for more, I’ve told you before, it’s okay. I can be patient.”
   “That’s not it, Chuck.” I sighed and pressed my forehead against his, bumping his nose with mine. “Because I’m still—I want this to progress. I’m not going to work to stop it anymore. But I’m still…nervous.”
   “Okay,” he said, smiling, obviously happy. “Well, I’m here to help you when you’re nervous.”
   “Oh?” I smirked fondly. “How are you gonna help me with that?”
   “There’s always my favorite.” I had no idea where he was going with this. “Distraction.”
   His hand dove between our bodies and cupped my vagina over my panties. I let out a puff of air and my eyelids fluttered. “Distraction is good.”
   I shifted my leg and felt just how hard he was under his boxers. He must’ve woken up with morning wood a little earlier than usual. I hadn’t noticed it earlier which was…new for me. I was so good at knowing when Chuck was turned on, when he was ready.
   It didn’t matter, though, because I knew it now.
   “How do you plan on distracting me?” I asked.
   But he didn’t seem to be in a very playful mood this time, even if his brown eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. There was a seriousness in him, in the way he clenched his jaw as he rolled onto his back and pulled me on top of him with one quick move.
   “Get rid of those panties,” he rushed out, his voice a panted whisper.
   Wow…we really weren’t playing. Well, alright.
   I had to roll off of him again to take them off. And then I hooked my fingers in the waistband of my panties and pushed them down my legs, kicking them off at the end of the bed. By the time I rolled back on top of him, his boxers were gone. He’d done that quick.
   “Come on, baby,” he said, his voice dripping with lust. “I wanna feel you around me. Hurry.”
   I rushed more than I usually would, his hands on my hips as I moved my legs to straddle him and pushed myself into his lap. I ground my crotch over his length a few times just to get myself a little wetter. Chuck’s hand pushed between our hips and he forced his cock into me, using the hand he’d kept at my hip to yank me hard into his lap. “Fuck!” I gasped, readjusting my knees against the mattress and arching my back.
   “C’mere,” he growled, and he forced me to lie against him, our chests pressed together, my nipples hard under my T-shirt that I still wore, and he folded his hands together at the small of my back, pulling me in tight.
   I felt him spread his legs, pull them up, and then he started bouncing fast and hard into me, trapping me against him with his fists linked at the small of my back.
   “Oh! Oh, God!”
   Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!
“Ffffunnggg! Ohhh!” I buried my face in his neck and held onto the pillow on either side of his head, clenching my eyes shut as he slammed into me like a fucking jackhammer.
   I came fast, curling my feet through his legs, crying out in ecstasy, my whimpers high pitched and breathless, as I gyrated against him, clenching hard to squeeze his cock the way I knew he liked.
   “Nnnng. God, I love it when you cum,” he panted. “Squeeze my cock, Sarah.”
   I kept gyrating, squeezing, still whimpering. And as I started to ride him in earnest, he tightened his grip at my lower back again and began to buck up against me, fast and hard again. Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!
“Chuuuckk,” I whined, my voice strangled. I spread my knees a little, letting him go to town on me from below, incapable of doing much more than just enjoying the hell out of it. I came again and threw my hips down over and over, clenching, squeezing, barely able to catch my breath as I whimpered his name.
   “Fuck, it’s so good,” I panted. “You’re so good!”
   Chuck opened his hands and grabbed my ass cheeks, squeezing them and pulling them apart. “That’s right, baby. Ride me. Fuck me with that pussy.”
   I grinned and let out a lusty chuckle, lifting my face and looking into his eyes. “I love it when you talk dirty.”
   “Oh, yeah?” he whispered, and then he smacked my ass fast and hard, then grabbed me and started fucking me even faster, jackhammering into me again. I came a lot faster this time, my voice ragged as I threw my head back. I braced my hands on the mattress on either side of his shoulders and forced myself up to tower over him, my torso tilted at an angle. I clenched my jaw, my eyes flashing dangerously when he looked up at me, and I began to rock on top of him. I clenched my ass and thighs with each movement, my thrusts long and deep, pulling him into my pussy over and over again.
   “Shit, that’s amazing,” he gasped, his head thumping hard into the pillow. “I love your walls surrounding my cock. So wet.”
   “S’cause you turn me on,” I panted. “You make me so damn wet, baby. M’so wet for you!”
   I rocked a lot harder then, smacking my hand against his shoulder, gyrating my hips, practically sucking on his cock with my pussy’s walls. The bed creaked as our bodies rocked against it.
   But then Chuck’s hands latched onto my hips again, forcing me to stop, and he bounced up into me again. Our bodies smacking together, hard and wet and loud. I came again, letting out a half-roar of his name, my head falling back. But he kept going, even through my orgasm, never stopping, even when I yelped his name in attempt to get him to.   Chuck kept pounding into me, his face so red it was nearly purple in the moonlight.
   “Fuck!” I screamed as I came again. I slammed my hips into his to force his ass back against the mattress and I grabbed his shoulders, trapping him with my thighs and pussy. Then I rode him hard, gritting my teeth, letting out hisses of absolute pleasure.
   “W-Wait,” he gasped. “Wait.”
   I stopped, gasping for breath, letting my chin fall to my chest. “S’wrong? You okay?”
   Chuck quickly pushed himself to sit up and I whimpered at the way his cock shifted inside of me, still out of breath as I felt his lips brush my ear, his fingers tenderly moving my hair out of his way as he whispered in a needy voice, “I’m getting close. And I wanna come in your ass.”
   My eyes snapped open and I let out a long, whimpered sigh. “Ohhh. Chuck, yes.”
   He pulled back and gave me a look. It said “Are you sure?” even as I saw just how badly he wanted this, how badly he wanted me. Just how close he was.
   I shoved myself hard into his lap and whined. “Chuck…oh yeah, baby. I want your cum in my asshole. I want your cum in my asshole so bad. Right now.”
   He helped me lift myself so that he fell out of my pussy. I swore my limbs felt like jelly, but I did what he asked, letting him wordlessly guide me back down until I felt his cock press against my asshole, probing it gently.
   I reached down to pull my cheeks apart as he painted his fingers with my cum by pushing them inside of my pussy and pumping in and out. I loved the way he fingered me. And his digits were so long, reaching the best places inside of me, places no other man could reach with their fingers before him.
   But then I was bereft as his fingers left my pussy. That bereft feeling went away quickly, however, because he eased one finger into my ass then, so slowly, letting me get used to it again.
   “Oh, I love this,” I sighed, pushing my face into his hair. “I love this so much.”
   He pumped his finger into my ass carefully, gently, for a few long moments, and I stayed there, hugging him, my knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips as I gasped and moaned from the sensation. We’d done anal enough now that my asshole had gotten used to the feeling of having Chuck inside of it, but I loved how every time, he got me ready first. He refused to just shove himself in, refused to hurt me even for the sake of pleasure.   And then a second finger dipped into my asshole and I shuddered. “Ohhhhhhh yeeeessssssss,” I groaned, ending in a hiss. “Please, Chuck. I want to feel your big cock in my ass.”
   “Right now?” he breathed into my ear.
   “Yes! Please, yes! I want to fuck you with my asshole. C’mon, baby. Put it in.”   His fingers were gone, but they were almost immediately replaced by his cock. It was much thicker than his fingers, and I gasped at the surprise of it. I’d felt it in my ass a handful of times by now, but it was still surprisingly big. At least, it felt that way, as my sphincter clenched around his girth that was wet with my juices.
   “Ohhhh Sarah, your ass is so tight. Are you okay?” he asked in a bit of a whimper.
   “Yes!” I gasped. “You feel so good. So fucking big.”
   He groaned and gently pulled me down until he was buried in my ass. I cried out and dug my fingers into his shoulders. “Oh, yes, baby! Fuck me!”
   Chuck began to slowly lift himself up against me in soft thrusts. I let him be gentle at first, even though I really wanted him to rip into me. I controlled myself and rocked down to meet him just as gently.
   I dragged my hands from his shoulders, down his back, and clung, not realizing that the pleasure had made my claws come out. I heard him wince a little as I scratched but was too distracted by the immense pleasure in my lower half from having Chuck so deep in my ass.
   And then I dropped my full weight into his lap so that he went even deeper. He let out a strangled cry as I yelped at the suddenness of the sensations, and then I started gyrating my hips, leaning back and holding onto his shoulders as I fucked his cock with my ass.
   “I want your seed in my ass,” I gasped. “Let go, Chuck. Come on, baby. Let go!”
   Chuck groaned, his head lolling back as he blinked at the ceiling. I tightened my asshole around him as I rolled my hips, pulling him in the way I just had with my pussy a few minutes earlier.
   He was lasting for a long time, though, no matter how often I shifted close to him, bouncing on his cock, leaning back again to try to squeeze and milk him. I even strained to reach back and play with his balls.
   We were both enjoying ourselves so much, though, that it didn’t matter. At one point, Chuck reached between us and shoved his finger into my pussy. He pumped fast and hard, curling it in a come hither motion over my gspot until I came again. I thought for a second that I’d gotten him then, because my orgasm had made my ass squeeze tight around his cock and he let out a strangled cry. But I didn’t feel the wet heat of his seed in my ass.
   “You wanna cum in my ass?” I finally asked.
   “Oh, yeah, baby,” he gasped. “I wanna paint it white.”
   I moaned. I loved when he talked dirty. I loved it so much.
   But maybe me riding his cock with my ass just wasn’t enough. I needed to let him have the control now. So I stilled my hips and then slowly lifted myself out of his lap, his cock leaving my asshole.
   He whimpered at the loss, almost trying to pull me back, but I simply smirked, catching his hands, pushing them back to his sides. I conveyed a reassuring “trust me” look with my eyes and then I laid down on my stomach, facing the end of the bed, crossing my arms under my chin, propped on the edge of the mattress like I would if he’d offered me a massage. I then reached beneath my body to bunch the duvet under my crotch so that my ass was tilted up for Chuck to enter my asshole easier. I figured it’d be a great angle for us both.
   Spreading my knees a little and arching my back, I looked over my shoulder and invited him with heavy lidded eyes and a bit of a pout. “Now get over here and fuck my asshole, Piranha.”
   Chuck pulled his lip between his teeth and let out a soft growl deep in his chest, before he scrambled up to me.
   He wasn’t as gentle this time as he pushed between my legs, planking over my body with his hands gripping the edge of the bed on either side of my shoulders. And I felt his cock enter my ass with a swift, fast stroke that had his groin smacking loudly against my ass cheeks.
   “Shit, yes, Chuck!”
   “Nnnnnnggggg. You have the best ass, baby,” he panted. “So fucking hot.”
   He pumped into me harder now and I turned my face into my arm and bit down, letting out a strangled, muffled cry. He was going in a little rougher than I’d been prepared for, but I didn’t say anything. It didn’t hurt. It was just…a weird combo of pleasure and discomfort. “Mmm nn! Nnn! Unng! Ch—oh!”
   I dug my fingers into the duvet at the end of the bed and twisted it in my fists, gritting my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut tightly and lifting my ass a little higher for him. My whole body rocked forward as he fucked my ass, making the mattress shift under our weight. But he kept going just as hard, one hand holding onto my hip so tightly I thought maybe I’d have a bruise there later.
   “Fuck, I’m almost there,” I heard him growl behind me.
   “Give it to me,” I whined through gritted teeth. “Fill my ass up!”
   He shifted up onto his knees then and tucked his thighs under my legs, hoisting my body up. I clung even tighter to the duvet and cried out hoarsely. His cock pressed right into that ultra-sensitive spot that I’d found in him a few days before. And now I knew what it felt like. “Fuck right there!” I groaned. “Oh, shit!”
   He held me by my waist and yanked me back against his rough, long thrusts. I felt a tear squeak out of the corner of my right eye and pressed my face into the bed. “C’mon, baby,” I half-sobbed, grateful it was mostly muffled. I didn’t know how much more of this I could handle without bursting into flames. Or, at the very least, being sore tomorrow.
   “Gnnnngggg!!!”
   He ejaculated into my ass then and I let out a high pitched whimper, my chest heaving. It was so hot, flooding into my ass, coating his cock. I felt some of it drip down my ass.
   “I want all of it,” I begged. “Please. Give me all of it!”
   Chuck jerked his cock into my ass over and over until nothing was coming out, and then he pulled away and landed roughly on the mattress next to me, his back crashing against it as he breathed almost violently, trying to catch his breath.
   “Shit!” he gasped, covering his face, his chest heaving wildly.
   Oh, I was definitely going to feel this tomorrow. It was already a little bit sore. But I was going to do my best to hide it from him because I knew he’d feel guilty. It was just how he was. When he rolled onto his side to try to catch his breath better, I saw the red welts on his back that I had scratched there with my nails when we first went into anal. He’d be feeling that tomorrow and I felt guilty.
   I couldn’t imagine how guilty he’d feel about making me sore.
   So I wasn’t even going to say anything.
   I didn’t want him to pause before doing that to me again. He’d gotten so much enjoyment out of it. And I had, too. It was worth walking a little funny for a few hours.
   I waited for him to shut his eyes before I squirmed a little bit, feeling the cum between my ass cheeks, on my upper thighs.
   I let my own eyes shut as I tried to control my breathing, still revved up, aching between my legs in a way that meant I’d been somewhat close to orgasm when he’d finished. Ignoring it, I climbed up to my knees and took a deep breath, pushing my hands through my hair. My muscles were a little achy in my legs, but in a really good way.
   “I hope you aren’t offended if I rinse off before coming back to bed?” I asked, wrinkling my nose in a bit of a wince as I looked down at him. He moved his hands from where they’d been over his eyes and pushed them through his own hair.
   “No, I…” He swallowed thickly, his chest still heaving, and he dragged his gaze down my body. “I sort of made a mess, didn’t I?”   “Yes, you did,” I said, arching my brow in a teasingly scolding way.
   He grinned, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Sorry.”
   “You are not,” I giggled, swinging my leg off of the bed and standing slowly. I let my legs get used to holding me up for a second before I walked as carefully as possible towards my bathroom. I didn’t want him to see me—
   “Are you walking funny?”
   Shit.
   I turned to face him. “Excuse me? That’s kind of rude,” I joked.
   “Your legs are sort of apart. Like a cowboy walk.”
   “Yeah. You made a mess. I’m a little sticky down there. I didn’t want to have to be crude, but there it is.” I shrugged, palms up, and backed the rest of the way towards the bathroom so that it was less evident that I was in some discomfort.
   “Want me to help you clean up?” he asked.
   Maybe it was the pause, the way my smile dimmed, my eyes darting away…But Chuck got the message and held up a hand. “Too much. Got it.”
   “I just…” I tried.
   “I got it. S’okay.”
   I merely bit my lip and ducked into the bathroom, not shutting the door completely but enough that he couldn’t see my head fall back as I rolled my eyes at the ceiling. “Fuck,” I mouthed. Now that he couldn’t see, I crouched a little and stretched, pulling my ass cheeks apart and squirming with a silent wince.
   On second thought, what he’d done to me had hurt a little. But I wasn’t upset. It was new. It was exciting. And all of this “sexploration” had maybe made me somewhat of a masochist. Just a teeny tiny small masochist. It wasn’t that I derived pleasure from my pain exactly…It was just that it felt so good that the twinge of discomfort, the very small twinge of pain, that went with what he’d just done to me had somehow added to the experience.
   Although, I might have to rethink it tomorrow, depending on if I was really sore, or just a little sore.
   I turned on the shower and stepped inside, turning to let the jet of hot water massage my ass and sighing.
   Suddenly a bubble of laughter came out of me and I quickly pushed my hand over my mouth to muffle it, unsure of how much Chuck might be able to hear with the door cracked like it was.
   There were so many things to be afraid of, so many things that could go wrong in the next few weeks, the next few months…the next few years, dare I even think Chuck would be around that long. But I trusted him.
   I trusted him.
   I let my forehead thump against the tile of the shower and shut my eyes. And I silently prayed to whatever god was out there listening that this all didn’t come back to haunt me.

—————

   I woke up late.
   With the way the sun’s rays spilled over the bed, the way the shadows tilted a certain direction, I could just tell the moment I woke up that it was at least after 8 or so. The second thing I realized was that the bed was empty beside me. And the third thing was that my shower was running.
   I pushed myself to sit up with one arm, yawning, running my other hand through my hair. And as I shifted to sit on my ass, I found that I was a little sore. Not as bad as I thought it would be, though.
   Last night, Chuck had teased about wanting breakfast, and while I knew he hadn’t been serious, trying to ease the bit of tension that went with the big step I’d decided to take inviting him to stay overnight, I wanted him to have that experience.
   If we were doing…this unlabeled thing together, I wanted him to enjoy it. I wanted there to be perks for him besides really good sex, a few dates here and there. I wanted him to feel cared for.
   And I wanted him to smell bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee when he got out of the shower. That homey morning smell. It was a homey smell, wasn’t it? Comforting and safe. I loved breakfast. Always had. I liked it in mornings when I didn’t have to race into work at the crack of dawn. But I couldn’t remember feeling that way with other people.
   Carina, maybe. After I’d gone on a particularly bad bender before even going off to school. I remembered the smell of her house in the morning as she made me the breakfast cure, how quiet it was until she brought the stupid boombox into the kitchen and blasted opera. Something I’d never truly understand about Carina—her love of opera. It just went against everything she was.
   Pushing that particular time in my life out of my head, because down that path lie deep and all-encompassing trauma, and according to my ex-shrink, potential PTSD, I slid on a clean pair of panties and my midnight blue silk robe.
   Maybe I was still a little sore from our early morning wildness, but I liked the idea of wearing something sexy for him, something he could admire me in. I smirked as I tied the silk belt at my belly button, walking out of my bedroom and down the hallway, fluffing my long, wavy locks a little as I went.
   We hadn’t been drunk last night, so I didn’t do Carina’s hangover cure. Instead, I let some chopped onions sizzle in a pan with some butter for awhile, as I cooked the bacon on another burner.
   By the time the bacon finished, I’d turned off the onions to keep them from burning, and I dabbed the extra oil from a few strips of crispy bacon, breaking them up and dropping them in the pan with the onion.
   I heard Chuck come in just as I started whisking the eggs.
   “I wasn’t serious about the breakfast, Sarah.”
   I threw a smirk over my shoulder, discovering that he’d come much closer, now leaning back against the butcher block right behind me. His eyes were glued to my backside, and I watched as they slowly followed my long legs down to my feet, and back up again.   The way he looked at me sometimes. Mmm.
   I arched my eyebrows and cleared my throat daintily. His eyes snapped right up to mine and he blushed, wincing. “A woman makes you breakfast and instead of helping, you just stand there ogling her while she slaves over an omelet. Typical.”
   He chuckled and pushed off of the butcher block as I poured the whisked eggs over the onions and bacon. And then I felt him wind one arm around my waist from behind, his lips against my temple.
   “What do you want help with?”
   “Butter four slices of bread.”
   “Four? Is there someone else here I don’t know about?” He made a show of looking out over the counter into my living room to make me laugh. It worked.
   “Trust me. You’ll want two,” I said. “Just butter the bread and I’ll tell you what to do after that.
   He let out a quiet grunt that was actually a pretty good mimicry of the I-Don’t-Believe-You-But-Okay grunts my partner gave me sometimes when I asked him to do something for me during a case.
   And then he moved away.
   But as I tilted the pan, shifting the egg a little to let it cook a little faster, he spoke up again. “And that’s a pretty nice Just Rolled Outta Bed get-up you got on there. You wouldn’t happen to be wearing that for me, would you?”
   I gave him a look over my shoulder and set the pan down again, covering it with a lid. “What makes you think that?” I tugged the hem of the robe down a little, but it did nothing to cover more leg. If anything it just revealed a little more of my chest.
   Chuck’s response was a snort as he finished buttering the bread. I went over to turn on the oven, and got a cookie sheet out, setting it next to him. “Sugar and cinnamon,” I instructed. “Then pop it in the oven.”
   The look of absolute glee and hunger, a hunger I wasn’t quite as used to, on his face made me giggle.
   And by the time he was ready to pop the cinnamon toast in the oven, I threw cheese on top of my frittata and slid it in beneath the cookie sheet where he’d prepped the bread.
   Chuck then moved around my kitchen opening cupboards, looking perplexed. “Second from the right,” I said, reading his mind a little.
   He opened the one I’d said, revealing my dishes. I only had four, and two of them were already in the dishwasher. It wasn’t like I had company ever. And I didn’t need an entire set of anything.
   Luckily, enough of my silverware was washed that we didn’t have to go diving into the dishwasher to hand wash forks.
   We sat down at the table and dug in, the air a lot more comfortable than the other times we’d spent mornings together. It wasn’t exhaustion or drunkenness that had kept him here this time. This time I’d asked him.
   He looked so comfy, too, in his boxers and fancy white button up, his hair damp, the curls going crazy on top of his head even though he’d seemed to make an attempt at combing them down with his fingers after his shower.
   I wanted to crawl into his lap and just stay there.
   So when I finished my last bite of toast, I did just that, pushing my chair away from the table and standing up, moving to where he sat and lowering myself onto his lap.
   “Oh, hi,” he chirped, loosely rounding my waist with his arms.
   “Hello.”
   “What’s up? How’re things?”
   I giggled. “You’re adorable.”
   “I know. It’s taken a long time for me to get this way, full disclosure. A lot of hours went into this. Lots of talking to myself in the mirror. ‘You’re adorable, Chuck! You’re adorable!’” he said, furrowing his brow in determination and intensity.
   This time I full on laughed, my head falling forward so that I bumped my nose against his. “I know you didn’t actually practice in a mirror, but weirdly enough, I can still see you doing that.”
   He chuckled. “Oh, thanks.”
   I stroked the pads of my fingers along his jawline, enjoying the feeling of his morning stubble. I moved my hand to stroke the backs of my fingers back down to his chin, giving him an extra little rub and giggling as he wrinkled his nose.
   His eyes really were stunning, I decided. The rising sun’s rays came in through the window and fell over his face, lighting his brown eyes and making them look almost golden.
   I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and rocked gently in his lap, just once, an experimental move to see how he’d react. His eyelids fluttered and he smiled gently.
   Chuck Bartowski was handsome. Really handsome. Maybe if you lined him up next to a couple of professional models, the average person might deem their beauty superior to his. Bryce was more classically stunning even. The type of guy who made you turn your head as he walked past. He’d turned my head when I first met him, I had to admit.
   Chuck hadn’t turned my head. Not at first.
   But when he spent the rest of that night we met screwing me senseless, he’d more than turned my head. I thought he was handsome since the beginning, but I never really took the time to truly take all of him in. Even just the contours of his face, the symmetry of it, the way so many colors flickered in his kind eyes, his cute nose, cheeks that got all dimply when he grinned or laughed, and God, I loved his hair so much. I couldn’t even describe the ecstasy of feeling his curls against my lower belly and thighs when he ate me out if I tried.
   He wasn’t the head-turning sex god on the cover of romance novels, with fake bulging muscles and a broody, shadowed face. The sort of man I supposed some women dreamed about throwing them over their shoulders, carrying them to bed, and making love to them, only to brood about it the next day. He wasn’t closed off, untouchable, dangerous, moody.
   Chuck wasn’t any of those things. He was better. His face was more apt to light up in humor than it was to darken in shadow, some deep secret most women loved to see hidden in the face of their partner.
   That was a dream I didn’t want.
   I wanted this man. Quick to laugh. A tease. A goofball. Trustworthy.
   His big secret, Piranha, was something he’d wanted to tell me a long time ago, but he’d never quite gotten up the courage. Understandably.
   He confused me.
   He had flaws.
   He tended to project himself onto other people, expected maybe a little too much out of others because he was so good. And he trusted too easily.
   But I liked his flaws. They made him Chuck.
   And the Chuck I currently saw before me, the Chuck whose lap I was sitting on, was unquestionably the most handsome, sexiest person I’d ever met. GQ models could go fuck themselves. And Bryce could go fuck himself 1000 times over. Life was unfair sometimes, so he probably didn’t have to fuck himself. Those damn icy blue eyes and that smirk and that body and his flashy car.
   I pushed that thought out of my head and I rocked myself against Chuck’s lap again.
   “Mmm,” he grumbled, and he tilted his chin up so that he could kiss my jaw, his tongue flicking out to taste my skin there.
   It hadn’t really been my intention to start something here. I’d just wanted to snuggle him, hold onto him, feel his arms around me. Partly for comfort and reassurance, and partly because I’d inherently felt this morning that he maybe needed comfort and reassurance from me. As good as it had felt waking up together, without the awkwardness that the last few times had been plagued with, I knew he was tiptoeing a little, careful not to overstep.
   His thoughtfulness drew me to him, even as it upset me a little he felt the need to be cautious with me. I’d done that myself. I’d made him tiptoe through our whole relationship these last six months.
   I unwrapped my arms from his shoulders and slowly climbed to my feet, shifting around to straddle his knees and grab the belt of my robe. I pulled it painstakingly slow, and as it untied, the front of my robe opened me up to Chuck’s gaze.
   His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his brown eyes swirled with purple, lowering to take in my bare breasts, drifting even further down the delicious planes of my torso, my six pack, my stomach, the waistband of my panties. And I saw a tinge of ache in him as he stared at my crotch, like he wished he could see underneath my lacy lingerie.
   And then he looked up at my face again and reached for me. As I crawled back into his lap, straddling him face-on this time, I pushed the flaps of his unbuttoned shirt open and scooted close, smashing my breasts against his chest and rubbing my nipples over his muscled pecks.
   “I love it when you wear this color,” he said quietly, twisting his fingers in the silk robe at the small of my back. “Makes your eyes so blue.”
   I just smiled at him and cupped his face, diving in for a kiss that I hoped rocked his world. I wrapped his head up in my arms and threaded my fingers in his hair, opening my mouth against his so that our tongues could meet in the middle.
   Chuck tucked his hands under my robe then and I felt his long fingers dip under the back of my panties, massaging my skin down to my ass. He cupped me and tugged me into his lap so that I could feel his cock beginning to harden against my pussy.
   And then there was a clipped knock at my door.
   I pulled back from him, a chill rocketing through me, my fingers tingling in shock.
   “Who’s that?” Chuck had the intelligence to whisper.
   “I don’t know,” I said, and I climbed up from his lap, tying the robe shut and making sure it covered my cleavage.
   “You gonna answer it?” he asked after I’d stared at my door for a few long moments.
   “Uh. Yes. Yeah. Sorry, I know that we’re not…like…super secret anymore, but if it’s…” I bit my lip. “Could you go wait in my room, just in case? If it’s Carina, it isn’t that big of a deal, but if it’s…I dunno…”
   The knock sounded again, this time harder. And I thought I knew who it was. Shit.
   But I didn’t have to ask Chuck again. He stood up from the table and walked past me, reassuringly putting a hand on my back that told me he understood, that he’d be in the other room if I needed him. And I found myself smiling as he disappeared down the hall.
   I schooled my features and hurried to the door, smoothing my hair down and taking a deep breath. I’d been well on the way to getting laid before whoever this was decided to interrupt and I didn’t really want them to know that.
   Knowing it was maybe a little bit of a risk to open the door without a weapon handy, I also knew if it was the wrong person on the other side of that door, they wouldn’t take it too well.
   I opened the door and sighed. I was right.
   “The hell took you so long to answer the—?” Casey started to growl, looking angry, even though underneath I saw the worry he was attempting to hide, the big teddy bear that he was. But he stopped, his eyes taking in my appearance. I pulled my robe shut a little bit more, feeling a bit sheepish. “The hell you wearing that for?”
   “What’s going on, Casey? Am I needed at work? Nobody called me.”
   “No, you have the weekend off. Remember? You also forgot the magazines I brought you from Kathleen. You’re on my way home from the station, so I thought I’d swing by and bring ‘em.” He held up the paper grocery bag full of magazines.
   “Oh. Oh!” I shook my head at myself. “Thank you. Thanks, Casey. That was nice of you…to do that.”
   But he was making a certain face I noticed, and then he narrowed his eyes, tilting his head in suspicion. “Do I smell breakfast?” I blinked. “Fancy breakfast. I smell onions. You don’t do fancy breakfast like that for yourself, Walker. Carina here?” He narrowed his eyes even further.
   “Uh, no. No, she isn’t.”
   “Can I come in?” I could tell he was asking as a test, not because he actually wanted to. Fucking detectives. I hated them sometimes.
   “Actually, I’d—I mean, normally I would invite you in, Casey. Ol’ partner.” I reached out and nudged him in the arm with a fist, channeling Chuck for a second I realized. And then I moved to take the bag from him. “I just don’t—”
   “Why can’t I come in?” he asked, moving the bag back just a bit so that my hand swiped at air.
   So many reasons.
   But I hated the idea of lying to my partner. It would already be bad enough keeping my relationship with Chuck a secret from Casey once my very own personal professional hacker was recruited to work with us at the station. Outright lying to Casey right now would feel terrible, and he’d see right through it.
   So I sighed and looked over my shoulder to where Chuck had just disappeared to help me out.
   Then I stepped out into the hallway with Casey and closed my door without actually letting the latch catch. I didn’t like the thought of having to knock on my own apartment door in case it locked me out. The lock was fussy sometimes.
   “S’going on?” my partner asked.
   “Casey, I—John.” I bit my lip and winced. “Look, I went on a date with someone last night. And, um, he’s still here. Hence the, um…fancy breakfast and, um…” I gestured at what I was wearing and diverted my eyes.
   Casey curled his lip and made a disgusted grunt.
   “I just don’t—”
   “I don’t care about your slumber parties, Walker. Chill out.”
   I raised my eyebrows. “Did Detective John Casey just tell me to chill out?” I held up my hands. “Wow. Okay. Did Kathleen let you in from the dog house finally?”
   “Shut up,” he snarled, shoving the bag into my arms as I giggled. Teddy bear.
   “Thanks for bringing the magazines, John. Tell Kathleen and Alex hello from me.”
   He grunted with a nod and moved to leave, but then he halted and looked back at me over his shoulder. “Look, I don’t need your new moron’s social security number. You don’t gotta bring him into the precinct to make the full round of introductions. I get it. You don’t date much.”
   He was so right, I wasn’t even offended. I just shrugged.
   “I don’t need to know who the guy is, s’long as he knows if he hurts you, I’ll kill ‘im. Then I’ll pass ‘im off to the boys so they can kill ‘im again.” He nodded emphatically, just one short lowering of his chin.
   I smiled. “Only a year and a half, and I’ve already gotten under your skin, huh, Case?”
   “Ruined it.”
   “Oh, come on.”
   “Nope. S’dead.” He walked away.   “See ya, partner,” I called after him with a wave, grinning when he flipped me off over his shoulder without even looking.

Notes: Thanks for reading! More to come!
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Just A Game