He loves me.  He meant it.  It wasn't a mixed up jumble of words misspoken in the middle of hard frenzied sex. He loves me. Like I love him.

My body feels like it might be about to collapse into a heap and my mind wants to follow it down.   From nowhere I feel tears well up behind my eyes, and my heart swells to bursting point.   He loves me and I love him.    It's earth shattering.  

My next thought, which is cold and sobering – I just had unsafe sex.  

As his breathing slows he lifts his head up from the crook of my neck to meet my eyes.  The way his eyes sparkle with satisfaction and the way his mouth is tilted up into a small but uncertain smile makes my chest thrum with pressure.  He looks so beautiful post coital I always think.  Of course he always looks so beautiful, but after sex he looks heartstoppingly so.  Flushed cheeks, wet kissable mouth, mussed hair and a look in his eye so wicked that it makes me want to beg him to do every single debauched thing that might come through his head.

As he slowly pulls out of my body he touches his lips to mine, kissing me softly.   The wet stickiness of him seeps out of me along with him, evidencing our careless and illicit lovemaking.   He sits up and buttons up my dress, smoothing it down around my thighs, which I then close over. 

When he moves to stand I do the same, sitting up on the step and smoothing down my tousled sex- on-the-stairs hair.   As he pulls his jeans and boxers back on, and zips and buckles his belt, his eyes hold mine a little warily perhaps.  As I stand up on still trembling legs, I feel the warm wet tickling sensation of his semen run down the inside of my leg. It feels strangely erotic. 

We're both silent for a few long moments, with only the sound of our breathing and the ticking of my grandmothers old clock filling the sexed up air of my hallway.  The silence doesn't feel awkward or uncomfortable, just leaden and thick with the weight of his words.  Words that I always thought would be mine to say first.   As he stares at me it occurs to me that finally, in this moment I might know everything that he's thinking.

"You said you loved me." I whisper after what seems like hours of hot wordlessness.

Something flickers across his eyes but then his shoulders relax and he nods.  "Yes. I did."

I feel my breath catch in my throat and my mouth feels dry and papery.  I run my tongue along my lips to wet them.  "Why?"

He looks confused and then smiles and takes a step toward me. "Why what?  Why do I love you or why did I say it?" his eyes are twinkling with sex and amusement. 

A small soft breath leaves my throat.  I can't think.  Or move.   I want to cry from happiness.  I also desperately want to reach down and catch the warm droplet of his climax that is running down my leg before it lands on the carpet.  

"Why did you say it?"  My voice is barely there. 

"I said it because it's true. I love you.  I'm in love with you.  I wanted you to know that," He runs a hand through his perfect just fucked hair. "Maybe it wasn't the right time.  But I wanted you to know," he shrugs.   "All week I was thinking about how I should have said it last week, before you left, and how if I had then maybe you wouldn't have gone.  But I didn't want it to be the reason you stayed,"  He looks down again, running his tongue across his bottom lip.   When he looks back at me his eyes are gravely serious.   "But the way I feel about you Alex, how much I wanted to hear your voice and see you this week," he steps closer and shakes his head.   "I told myself I'd tell you the next chance I got. If I got one."   He reaches out and takes my hands.   "Baby I know I almost killed it.  But I don't know what Im doing here.  But what I do know is that nothing in in my life has ever felt as right or as good as you do."    His voice is so sincere that it takes my breath away. I open my mouth and close it again, and instead just stare at him in awe.   

"What are you thinking Alex? Tell me." He sounds concerned now. What am I thinking? I'm thinking how on earth do I convey to him how I feel that even remotely matches what he's said to me? He tightens his grip on my hand and I squeeze his back. 

"What am I thinking?" I say as I try and think. My head is mainly just ringing loudly, echoes of 'I love you, I'm in love with you' sounding through it.   "I don't know what I'm thinking exactly," I shake my head and smile at him.  "But then I never know what I'm thinking around you because I forget who I am around you. My brain seems to stop working entirely around you, it's dangerous."  I give him a playfully accusing stare.  

He presses his body into me and from his position on the lower step looks up at me from under thick dark lashes and smirks.  "Well,  I'm usually thinking about one thing and one thing only around you so..." he leans up to nip at my bottom lip. When he pulls back is face is more serious.  "But I know exactly what you mean about forgetting who you are.  Happens to me too," he nods.  "I'm a totally different person when I'm with you.  It's like my head calms down you know?  There's not so much noise in it.  Or you make it like the noise doesn't exist." He says.   

"You have a noisy head?"  I smile.

His mouth is smiling but his eyes are sad.  "You've no fucking idea..."

"What kind of noises are they?" 

He thinks about it a moment. "The kind that keep you awake at night." 

I nod slowly but it occurs to me that he always sleeps so deeply whenever he's here.  "Always so vague," I sigh.   "Protecting me again Jake?" 

Perhaps he wants to keep you from his shit for a reason.  Trust is given and earned over time.

The heavy look in his eye hardens. "Yes. Always."

We're both silent for a long time and I try and decide whether to push him on his vagueness or let it be for tonight.

"Tell me you'll try this with me baby, please." He says breaking through my muggy thoughts. "Give me a chance to deserve you, to change for you?"  He lifts my hand and places the palm flat against his cheek.  Then he lowers it and kisses each one of my fingers softly.  My chest aches.   Change for me?  What's he talking about?

"I don't want you to change for me Jake. That's not what I want." I shake my head.  How can he think that's what I want? 

"No, but it's what I want." He mutters looking down. 

I step down so that I'm level with him. "Well I'm in love with who you are now.   I'm in love with the cocky, demanding - if overly secretive - sexual deviant standing in front of me right now. I don't want you to change for me."

His head comes up slowly, his eyes narrowing.  "What did you just say?"

"Cocky, demanding, overly secretive sexual deviant." I bite my lip to hold the smile back.

"The other bit."

I take a deep breath. "I'm in love with you." 

He looks almost confused for a moment and his eyes seem to change colour entirely.  Then he lets out a breath.  "Kept that fucking quiet."

"Really?  I thought it was pretty obvious?" I give him an innocent look.

"Alex, nothing about how you feel about me is pretty obvious, trust me." He says and pulls me into him.  When he kisses me he sucks deeply on my tongue, almost as though he wants to taste the words for himself. His hands slide around my body and under my dress and I feel his fingers run up the inside of my thigh.  I know when he feels it because he pulls back, a hot look coming over his eyes. His fingers trace over the dampness on my thigh, wiping it clean. I look down between us, colour flooding to my cheeks.

"That was careless Jake. I'm on the pill but it's not sensible." 

"I'm clean Alex.  I promise you," he asserts in a low hot tone.  I wasn't even thinking about that.  Why wasn't I thinking about that?  "I get checked often." He adds, but then obviously realises how that sounds and he rolls his eyes and shakes his head.  "What I mean is that I'm sensible that way. Always.  Well normally always. There's been no one except you since the last time I went."

I nod but the feeling that I should have known better doesn't dissipate.  Playfully he pushes his hips into me and takes my chin between his thumb and finger and lifts my head up.  His other hand still snug between my bareness.

"But you can check me over yourself if it'll make you feel better, Doctor?" he smiles boyishly. I cant help but smile back at him.   

"Maybe I will..  Anyway, I should have known better." I tell him sternly. 

"Mhm maybe.  But do you have any idea how hot this is?  Feeling my come running down your leg?  Knowing that it came from inside you?  And that I put it there?"

My mouth drops open as a wave of heat blasts through me.   Is he actually serious?   How the hell does he make something like this sound so completely and utterly sexual?   I stare at him dumbfounded for a moment.  "You're a bloody animal sometimes do you know that? You're filthy." I shake my head, mortified yet turned on again.   He pulls me into him again and makes a soft animal-like growling noise and bites at my shoulder softly.  

"You fucking love it," he says. "It's also hot watching you act all shy and proper when I talk dirty to you."

I hit him lightly on the arm. "It's not an act.  I am shy and proper. It's how I was raised."  I smile, shyly, properly.

He gives me a long look before his mouth curls up into a smile that makes my legs feel very very weak. "Yeah you are.  It's one of the things about you that drives me fucking insane."

"I drive you insane?"

"Fucking mental."   He smiles, scrunching his nose up adorably before moving past me up the stairs, pulling me behind him.    "Come on. Thinks it's high time we had that bath we always talked about because you baby, need cleaned. You're fucking filthy."  He glances back over his shoulder and winks and I let him lead me up the stairs. 

I turn on the taps and select my favourite calming bath oil, careful not to put in too much "girly stuff" as per his request and leave the water blasting into the bath.  As I'm fetching towels from the hall cupboard I see him standing by the bed checking his phone, while he empties his pockets onto the bedside table. As he types away he takes out a large bunch of keys, then a smaller set and then his wallet before seeming to turn off his phone entirely and places it down next to the other items.  As he begins taking off his watch I leave him and go back to check on the bath.   

When it's ready I'm about to call him through when I turn to find him at the bathroom door, leaning there casually as he watches me.  His stance is much like Ben's was that night except the difference is that I want Jake standing there looking at me like that. I want him in my house and in my bath and in my life.  

He leans up of the frame and walks toward where I am by the foot of my roll top.  Then he steps forward and brushes my hair back over my shoulder, before reaching down to unbutton my dress with slow deliberate movements. I watch his face as he watches his hands studiously as he releases each button. When it's unbuttoned to my waist he gathers it and pulls it up and over my head and drops it carelessly to the floor. 

After appraising me with his eyes, like he always does when I'm naked, he grabs the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it off, then begins to unbuckle his belt.   It's one of my favorite sounds in the world; the unbuckling of his belt. Perhaps because the clinking of metal being released against fabric signals that he's about to be naked, and I love him naked.  Perhaps it's because I've always enjoyed the ritual of unwrapping gifts.

Drawing my eyes over his body and down, I watch transfixed as he pushes his navy blue Calvin Klein's and his jeans to the floor before casually stepping out of them.  Then with a small half smile he turns and climbs into the bath, barely wincing at the temperature as he does. I know its probably too hot because it's the way I always run my bath – I like them just a little too hot so I can lie there and enjoy the sensation of it cooling around me.

As he settles down into it, stretching out his long legs, he beckons me in with a tilt of his head and I comply.   Once in I turn my back on him, and I feel his hands run slowly up my thighs and over my bum before he holds my hips and pushes me between his legs. 

"I remember a day when you wouldn't even entertain the idea of having a shower while I watched.  Now look at us."  He says with a smile in his voice.

"Ah, the day your biggest secret came out – that you were an anti bathing sexual deviant," I giggle, relaxing back into him.

"Yeah that's my biggest dirtiest secret that one," He says as he pulls me close and places a kiss on the back of my neck.  With my hair piled high upon my head he brushes away the loose strands and peppers the back of my neck with warm wet kisses, sucking at the perspiration that's begun to settle there.

As I lie there in that water in his arms and in the knowledge that he loves me, it occurs to me that it's as close to a feeling of complete and utter contentment as I've ever had.   There's something I want to talk to him about though.  Something that should prove whether or not we really have turned a corner, and that he really does trust me.  

He moves his body a little further down into the water and I do the same, laying back fully on his large warm chest. He runs a hand down my neck and across my shoulder while the other he lays out along the edge of the bath.   Using the same motion he's using on my body I run my hands down his thighs, massaging the tight muscle contained under his skin.  At my touch the hardness between his legs announces itself against the small of my back.

"I wanted to ask you something," My voice is quiet and small.  Maybe because I don't want to scare him with the question.  "Something I need to know."

There's a deliberate pause before he answers. "Okay."

I swallow and reach up to take hold of his hand, entwining my fingers with his.  He lets out a breath and curls his hand inwards around mine, cocooning it inside his own.

"The night we met.  The night at the surgery.  What happened?   Why would someone want to kill you?"  I ask in an even tone.   I see and feel his grip on my hand tighten a little but he doesn't say anything right away and I can't tell how he feels about the question. Apart from his hand tightening on mine there aren't any other outward signs that I've phased him by asking.  I decide to take that a good sign. 

"I don't think they wanted to kill me."  He says finally.

I frown.  "Why else would someone stick a kitchen knife into your neck?" 

He lets out a breath and I imagine him doing the lip chew and the eye squeeze and when his other hand leaves my neck I wonder if its so he can pinch the bridge of his nose like he does when he's stressed. I hold my breath the entire time while he says nothing.  When he speaks again, his voice is even and businesslike.

"I went to collect some money for someone, a friend and work associate, money he was owed, money that was stolen from him.   When I got there the guy decided he didn't want to return it.  In fact he decided that instead of returning it he would threaten me instead.  Or rather someone very close to me." He says. Very close to him?  Who's very close to him?  Oh god..

I sit up and my head whips round to face him. "Caleb? He didn't threaten Caleb?" I gasp. He doesn't have to answer because the confirmation is clear on his face. His eyes are dark and his nostrils slightly flared.  "My god Jake..." I whisper.   "So he stole from your friend, threatened Caleb and then pulled a knife on you?"  I feel my fingernails sharpen to claws as I imagine the knife being plunged into Jakes neck by a man who'd threatened his little boy. Jakes eyes flicker with something as my mind goes back to the night downstairs when I questioned why he never went to the police about what had happened.   What makes you think I let them get away with it?    Suddenly I'm glad he didn't let them get away with it.  I hadn't known what to think when he'd said that then.    Now?   Now I'm glad.   I'm glad the man who threatened his son never got away with it. So I condone violence in certain circumstances then?  Where Jake and his son are concerned?  I should be glad he found the surgery when he did then.  I should be glad the thief wasn't great with his knowledge of main arteries of the human body.

"No, not him." Jake says with a small shake of his head. 

"What?  What do you mean?"

He drops his eyes for an instant. "His wife.  She panicked I guess.  Thought I was going to kill her husband.  Did what she had to." He shrugs. 

He actually shrugs.  My mouth is gaping open in horror and he's shrugging it off like it's meaningless.

"She panicked?" My voice is a high pitched squeak.  The look that comes over his eyes gives me a distinct chill. 

"I was going to kill her husband Alex. If she hadn't stopped me he'd be dead." His tone is matter of fact. 

He doesn't sound in the slightest bit sorry about it I don't think.  He just sounds uncomfortable about telling me about it. 

I shake my head "You wouldn't ha -." I start but he cuts me off.

"Alex.  I would have.  He's a piece of shit who threatened my son.  He crossed the fucking line." The venom in his voice is thick and undisguised and causes a shadow to fall over his eyes.  God he's serious.  He seriously believes he would have killed this man. 

"But you didn't." I say. "That never happened."  

He shakes his head but the anger takes more than a few moments to dissipate from his eyes, and when he speaks again there's still more than a tremor of heat in his voice. 

"There isn't lot that I care about baby, but what I do care about, the things that are important to me I protect.   No one gets to threaten or hurt them and walk away from that," He stares into my eyes with an intensity that causes me to stop breathing again.  "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

It takes me a moment to find a voice.  "I understand."   I whisper.  

When he looks satisfied that I've understood he nods and then gestures for me to turn back round.     As I do I feel something inside me slowly begin to harden.  There's so much strength in what he's just said.  I've never known anyone who talks with as much conviction about things as he does.  Perhaps that's why he's economic with words, and with sharing, and with revealing thins about himself.  Perhaps it's because when he talks he wants to mean everything that he says.  He doesn't want to waste his breath on anything empty or without foundation. A wave of something like pride washes over me.    So this is the man I love.  A strong, fiercely protective man who does what he needs to do. Who protects the people he loves.

He slides his arms around and pulls me into his embrace. "Good.  Because you're one of those things I care about Alex." He whispers as he kisses the top of my head.

***

Sunday morning breakfast in bed with him is everything I always wanted it to be.  With the papers scattered across the duvet, the breakfast tray between us its almost picture perfect.  He certainly is anyway.   I always knew I wanted this, waking up with him, being with him like this, since that very first night together I knew.   I knew that one night with him would never be enough.  I wanted more, I wanted it all.  

I wanted to fall.  

After I gave him directions to Ken's bakery he went out for croissants and the papers, while I brewed the coffee and prepared a tray with marmalade, butter and the remainder of yesterday's strawberries.  They need to be eaten today because I left them out of the fridge last night whilst he fucked me on the stairs.   

He's examining the sports insert of The Guardian while I flick through the rest of the paper.  I say read, really I'm just watching him read while absently flicking the pages pretending to be reading.   It's perfect really. Is this how Sundays will be from now on?   Him reading the sports pages and me reading everything but the sports pages?   I like that he has a thing that's different from my thing.   He's sitting up, resting back against the headboard, his legs crossed at the ankles whilst he blows gently on his black coffee without milk or sugar.   

As I break a piece of croissant off and pop it into my mouth, a loud sigh of pure contentment leaves my chest and he lifts his head and smiles at me, before dropping his eyes back to the paper and whatever it's telling him about the state of the premiership.  

It feels like a small luxury being able to watch him like this, surreptitiously. How is it possible for him to even look this good first thing in the morning when he hasn't even showered yet?  The sunlight is shining on his face, and his hair bed head style and beard look perfectly tuggable as he chews neatly away on a piece of warm pastry.   He's perfect.   I love him. He loves me. 

"Must be a really interesting article you're reading there." He says without looking round.   The side of mouth quirks up into a half smile.  Oh so he knows I've just been staring at him, great.

"Oh it is." I nod. 

"What's it about?" He asks, turning his head to me. He brings his coffee to his mouth as he places the paper down on his lap. 

"Avocados."

"Sounds fucking riveting," he smiles. 

"Mmm, it is.  But not quite as riveting as you."  I tell him.  

His eyes blaze and my body clenches in response because it knows what that look in his eye means.   It reacts accordingly because it wants the same thing.   He's always looked at me in that same intense way, like he wants to consume me whole.   From that very first night he's given me that very same look.  I just never knew what it was then. I lean across the bed and kiss him on the side of the mouth, flicking my tongue across his plump bottom lip. 

"You had marmalade on your face." I lie. Of course he didn't, he's the neatest eater I've ever seen.  I just want my mouth somewhere, anywhere on his skin.    He smiles and moves his mouth back to mine, grazing his lips over mine before sliding his tongue into my mouth and groaning softly.   When he pulls back he runs his tongue around the inside of his mouth and across his lips.

"Strawberries," He nods.  "You tasted like strawberries last night too.  Good memories."  His tone is warm like the look in his eyes. 

I sigh. "Yes....  Our careless lovemaking on the stairs."

He slides the breakfast tray out of the way and places his coffee on the bedside table and then moves across the bed. He climbs over my body and pins me beneath him.   

"I told you not to worry about it.  I'm squeaky clean and I know you are and if you're on the pill then we're all good." He says as he dips his head to kiss me. My body stiffens slightly.  It really doesn't mean were 'all good' at all. It means I should probably get the morning after pill tomorrow to be on the cautious side.   Also how can I be talking about this stuff with him, and having him reassure me, when reassurance is my job?  It's mood smothering.  

"Ok, I'm not worrying." I lie, fixing him with my shy proper smile.   He nods and pushes his hips into me.  

"Good.  So how about we be careless again right now?"   He lowers his head and begins to kiss a trail down my neck to my chest, causing the tops of my thighs to vibrate and tingle.  "You know since the damage is already done."   He groans sensually while he draws his tongue between my breasts, untying my silk dressing gown with his free hand.  When his hand skims over my belly and he slides it between my thighs my body arches up off the bed. The fact that I want to be careless with him again right now proves what I've always known, he's such a bad influence on my good girl mind. 

"As tempting as you are," I pant. "....I think that would be less careless and more - Christ...." His finger teases my sensitive spot. "...That would be more like completely idiotic.... so no..." I close my eyes and slide my hand into his hair as his mouth reaches my belly button which he circles with his tongue.

"Mmmm are you sure...?  You got any idea how good it felt being totally inside you?"  He slides his finger inside me and moves his head lower until lowers I feel his hot tongue against my opening.  He opens me with his finger and slides his tongue inside while I gasp and buck against his mouth.   "How good your tight little cunt felt wrapped around my cock?" He makes a soft yearning noise as my eyes fly open.

I lean up on my elbows and stare down at him speechless.  He's peering up at me with that wicked look on his face as he presses his lips to the skin just above my pubic bone. 

"Seriously? How on earth do you get away with saying things like that?" I shake my head.

"Because I'm a sexual deviant."

"Well whoever said that to you was spot on."

"Yeah, she was.  She doesn't even know the half of it either.  But she will soon enough..." he chuckles and then his amazing, graphic, sexually deviant mouth is on me again.   My head flops back down onto the pillow as I giggle, but the giggle is swallowed quickly by a gasp as he sucks loudly on the very apex of my thigh. As he nibbles and bites me there he pins open my thighs with his shoulders and grabs my hand, linking his fingers with mine. He holds me tight in place as he shifts position and when he slides his tongue into me again it's deeper this time.  Oh my god.

"So soft and tight and sweet.  This also tastes like strawberries by the way." He flicks his eyes up at me before lowering his head again.   He licks the entire length of me in one go and I have to bite the side of my free hand to stop myself screaming.   "And stop doing that," He says, pulling his mouth away from me.  I look down at him puzzled.   "When I fuck you, however I fuck you, I want to hear you."

His eyes are utterly serious and he makes no move to lower his head until I remove my hand from my mouth.

"That's my girl." He says as I slide my hand instead into his hair, which I pull hard deliberately. He doesn't seem to mind, in fact he smirks at me in approval.

Shortly after, and with one hand in his hair and the other in my mouth I let him hear me. 

I'm lying in his arms with my head on his chest as he strokes his hands softly across my naked back.   His breathing is deep and even and its movement coupled with his fingers on my skin is hypnotic.   I feel sleepy again.   Odd since last night was the best night's sleep I'd had in a week.   It was long, deep and unbroken, and when I woke earlier I no longer had that heavy oppressive weight of emptiness in my body which I'd had every day since last Friday. 

"We should stay in bed all day." I murmur sleepily with my eyes closed.

His hand stills for a moment.  "I'd love to.  But I have Caleb today."

My eyes open and my heart flutters as an image of him playing football with the tiny gorgeous little boy I saw asleep pops into my head.  I close my eyes on a smile. I'd love to see that.

"What are you doing with him? Do you have plans?" I ask.

"Taking him to the zoo.  He wants to see the lions.  He's been fucking mental about them since he saw the Lion King." His voice is warm and soft and there's a long pause before he speaks again. "You could come too.  If you want."

My eyes flash open again.   Meet his son.  Today? God why am I terrified?  I shouldn't be but  I am. My breathing starts to quicken and I sit up slowly, hugging the duvet to my chest as I turn to look at him.

"Oh, today...?"

Immediately I worry that the look on my face is horror and that I'll offend him with it, so I turn away and look around the room instead. "Today is..." what is today?  What on earth do I say?  I'm terrified of meeting your son.   I feel his hand on my arm. 

"Alex it's fine. It's ok, don't worry." He smiles.  "It's soon. I know.  There's plenty of time for you to meet him.  It'll happen when it happens." He nods, looking utterly fine. His eyes are soft and wide and reassuring. 

I nod slowly. "I do want to meet him Jake.  I really want to.  I just, I guess I hadn't prepared myself for it to be today." I touch my hand to my forehead.  "And what if he hates me?" 

Do three year olds even know how to hate someone? I don't know much about children outwith a professional capacity so I don't know. What if I'm awful at being around them in any other capacity.   What if I'm one of those people who makes children cry just by looking at them.  Okay it's never happened before so this is irrational.   Calm bloody down Alex.  

Jake laughs softly and shakes his head. "Baby he wont hate you.   Seriously?  Is that what you're worried about?" He pulls me down and wraps his arms around me and plants a kiss on the top of my head. "You're fucking adorable you know that?"  

I smile. "Well thanks but it could happen. I mean wont he wonder who this strange woman is with his father?  The one who isn't his mother?" I point out.   "I mean what's happened in the past?  When you've introduced women or girlfriends to him?  How does he normally cope with them?" I twist my head to gaze up at him. 

His eyes switch to serious straight away.  "I've no idea. I've never introduced any woman to him."

Oh.   No woman ever meant anything to me before you.  

Something warm and tingly spreads across my body, melting away some of the chill of fear I get at the idea of his son not liking me. 

"I know for a fact he'll love you though." He says. 

"Oh you do, do you.  How is that?" I smile as I trace my finger over the smiling mask on his chest. 

"Because he takes after his dad." He kisses the top of my head. I smile. How does he do that? Make me love him more than I thought possible?   "You'll be amazing with him baby.  I've no doubt about that."  He says.  "But we'll take it slow.  For his sake as well as yours.  I don't want to freak either of you out."

I nod and reach a hand up to brush my fingers across his jaw, enjoying the feel of the thick and wiry hair under my fingers.  "Ok. Lay the groundwork for me then." Jake laughs and reaches down to kiss me. Its slow and deep and it kindles my blood again.  I want him again. 

"I said I'd get him at twelve.  I should go shower." He groans as he peels his mouth from mine.   "But can I come back later for another sleepover?  Happy to spend the whole night on your stairs this time."  He smirks. 

"I'd like that." I nod, "The sleepover, not the stairs.  Bad for the spine," I say and reach up to grab his mouth again.   For a few more moments I close my eyes and lose myself in the way his tongue slips and slides around the inside my mouth, and the noises he makes when as it does.

"Ok, bed it is. I also think it might be about time you cooked for me don't you?  Have my dinner on the table when I get in yeah?" he grins. 

"Hammering home the gender roles already are we?"  I shake my head.  He gives me a peck on the nose and pats my head sardonically before climbing out of the bed. The sight of his perfect naked back and bum as he does makes mouth water. 

"Damn right baby.  I'll bring some of my shirts over for you to iron too." He says throwing a cheeky wink over his shoulder.  

I shake my head and flop back down on the bed.  Cook for him.  No, that's not terrifying at all.  First I give him the impression that I'm terrified of children and tonight I get to underwhelm him with my cooking skills.   He'll probably leave me first thing in the morning.  

From the en suite I hear the sound the shower being turned on. 

"Oh I'll be expecting you to get in here with me and wash my back as well." He says as he comes strutting back into the bedroom. 

My body prickles with heat from head to toe and my mind is flooded with the image of me taking him in my mouth in his shower as the water cascaded off his body.   I kick the covers off and just about stop myself from leaping out of bed.

I smile as I approach, stopping in front of him to lean up and nip softly at his mouth as I wrap my hand around his length. He groans and his eyes close over. "Lets go get you wet then." I whisper as I stroke him gently. When I drop my hand and step away from him towards the bathroom he groans again, in displeasure this time.

"Oh I wont be the only one getting wet doctor, trust me on that." He says.  

"Oh, you shouldn't have too much work to do.  I might be about half way there already."

The sound of him groaning behind me is almost totally drowned out by the sound of the shower spray.

After he leaves to go get Caleb I strip the bed sheets, because they have sex and marmalade on them, and then hang them on the line in the garden to dry.    With some reluctance I decide to use today to do the thing I've been putting off for what seems like forever - grocery shopping.   Of course I should have done it last week but food wasn't on my radar.   I was too busy mourning the loss of Jake to grocery shop. Shopping isn't really something romantically bereaved people do.

Waitrose is always busy on a Sunday, and because of that, and because I'm a million miles away thinking of tattoos, Sunday breakfast in bed and four letter words, I bang the trolley more than once into the ankles of numerous poor unsuspecting shoppers. I smile shyly and properly and apologise profusely, while commanding myself to pay bloody attention.

I'd debated all day what to make him for dinner and decided finally on homemade lasagna.  He likes Italian and the recipes I'd looked up all looked fairly straightforward.  How bad can it turn out?  God what if he's allergic to dairy or something.  He never puts milk in his coffee, is that why?   How come I don't know what his allergies are? 

As I wander down the vegetable aisle, I text to ask how the zoo is, and if he is indeed allergic to anything, e.g., Dairy.

//Allergic to dairy?  You're fucking filthy ;)Jx//

I giggle. Then my phone vibrates again.

//I'm not allergic to anything except bad cooking! He loves the zoo, but was terrified of the lions. Miss you. See you soon. Jx//

I'm smiling like a schoolgirl as I head towards the tomatoes and the shopping trolley stops dead in front of me.  Or more accurately I ram it into the back of an older gentleman's ankles.  Quite rightly he turns around to glare at me.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry!  The wheel on this thing is totally buckled.  I've been fighting with it all the way round." I glare accusingly down at the innocent trolley wheel.  "I'm really sorry." I give him my sweetest smile and he nods and turns back to inspect the courgette basket.

Ok.  I REALLY have to focus.

When I get home I realise I've bought 3 different kinds of pasta, thankfully one of which is lasagna sheets, and I've picked up the wrong kind of cat food for Fred so he will not be happy with me.   Apparently shopping isn't something in love people do either.   

As I'm putting away the groceries the doorbell goes and since I'm not expecting anyone, and since I have Jake brain, I'm worried that I've forgotten about a lunch I had planned for my mum and dad or something that's slipped my mind.    Well if I have then at least I have food now so I can feed them.

As I approach the door I see a tall figure behind the glass and my heart swells. He's back early.   Why didn't he just come in?  He doesn't need to knock, I need to tell him that.     My heart deflates again when I open it to see Sherlock standing there.  He gives me a tight smile and then removes his sunglasses.

"Hey Alex.  How are you?" His smile seems to tighten even further. 

I smile back politely, confused as to what he's doing here.  "Um, I'm fine Mark, you?"

"Yeah, not bad," he nods but his mouth stays tight and his eyes serious.    "Do you have some time to talk?  You don't have company do you." He says, glancing behind me into the house.  

"No, I'm alone. Yes... I have some time." I nod, feeling awkward and a little cold.

"Do you mind if I come in?" he asks in an overly polite tone. A strange feeling of foreboding seems to bubble up from nowhere then, dark and thick.

"Umm, no I don't mind. Come in." I tell him.  Then I stand back to let him inside.