One Month Later

"Hey Mol, its me. I just thought I'd call before my flight to see how you are, but apparently you're busy. Anyway, I'll try again when I get to London. Bye."

"A chroí, its me again. I landed in London. I've got about two hours before my flight to Los Angeles. I thought I'd see if you were free but you must be busy. No worries. I'll call when I land in L.A. See you soon. I can't wait."

Molly sighed as she put her phone down. She'd missed both of Andrew's calls and the guilt was starting to creep in. She checked the time. His plane landed in an hour and she still had three cases to look over before she could leave. It didn't matter; they had already agreed that she would meet him later that evening after he had a chance to check into the rental. Still she felt guilty that it had been at least three days since they'd last spoken.

The month had passed with Facetime calls and text conversations. The eight hour time difference meant it was usually afternoon for him when he called her in the morning before work and by the time she got off at seven or eight it was too early in the morning for her to call back. Still, Andrew insisted that she could call him anytime, day or night. He called her every morning without fail and their conversations, however brief, were always worth her getting up earlier. When he couldn't get ahold of her, he'd leave a sweet message that she'd get the next time she was free.

Two days after he left she came into the office to discover a dozen roses sitting in a crystal vase on her desk. A week later, chocolate covered strawberries arrived on her door step. The next week, a handwritten card filled with Andrew's looping cursive writing. Not one I love you, as requested. But she knew this was his way of showing her how he felt.

The reality was that Molly truly had been too busy to miss him. The days passed much like they did before their reunion. So when his return date finally arrived, she nearly forgot about it. If it wasn't for his voicemails, she likely would have worked the whole night through.

No matter how many times he assured her that he was okay with her forgetting their designated phone calls or not talking to him for several days, she still felt bad. At least now they had two weeks together. She sighed and flipped through the files in front of her. The sooner she got through them, the sooner she could leave.

"I still can't believe you talked to the Howard kid," Oscar said, coming back into the room with two steaming coffee cups.

"He needs our help," she replied, taking the cup from him.

"I'm aware," he said, sitting opposite her. "But there's no way Michelle with authorize you taking on a gang case. Leave that for the public defenders."

"He has no chance with them and you know it," she countered. "He comes from a good family - single mom who works three jobs just to keep the lights on, three younger sisters, he had a full ride scholarship to play basketball for UCLA before his accident. He was a good kid. Just fell in with the wrong crowd."

"Molly, I love that you have a bleeding heart and all that, but this case is dangerous," he warned. "I don't want you getting hurt. And I'm not going to lie to Michelle for you again."

"Lucky for you, I'm a big girl and I can handle myself," she replied, setting her jaw.

It wasn't the first time they'd disagreed on a case and it wouldn't be the last. Even if Michelle didn't authorize Bright Horizons funds to be used on the case, Molly could still take the case on herself independently. It would be pricey, but not terrible. She returned her focus to the files and within an hour had managed to get through them. Oscar watched her as she packed her things.

"What time does he get in?" he asked.

She checked her phone. "He landed five minutes ago supposedly," she tugged her coat on. "But it'll take him time to get through customs and get his bags and all that. Then he's going to the rental. I'm meeting him there."

"So this means I have the apartment to myself?" he asked, his face lighting up.

"Yes. After I pack for the next two weeks it'll just be you and Randall," she smirked. "Have a boy's night."

"Fuck a night, I'm having an orgy," Oscar joked.

Molly shuddered at the thought. "Yeah yeah, just clean the house when you're done." She put her finished files in a nice stack on the center of her desk. "Andrew said he wanted you to join us for dinner one night while he's in town. I'd really like you to consider it."

"Molly, let's get one thing straight: I don't dislike Andrew," Oscar said. "In fact, I really like the guy. He's smart and funny and talented as all hell. Not to mention extremely generous. My issue is the situation he's put you in."

"And what might that be?" she asked with a tired sigh.

Oscar put his pen down. "He has told you he's in love with you and has been for years, right? He's basically  pushed you into a long distance relationship even after you told him you aren't sure if that was what you wanted." He rubbed his face. "Then he sends you all of these gifts and flies across the planet to see you a month later. Its just a lot for two people that have only been together for like...five weeks."

"Okay, one, you sound jealous as fuck that you're not getting any gifts. Two, we haven't only been together for five weeks; we had an entire relationship before I had to leave. We already know each other. This is just like picking up where we left off," she replied, counting off her points on her fingers. "He's not manipulating me. He hasn't put me in a situation. I am fully participating in the decisions we make."

"How long do you figure this could actually last though?" he asked. "I mean, you have no desire to move away. He'd have to move here."

"I don't know, Oscar. We haven't exactly spoken about our future plans beyond this visit," she answered dryly.

"Maybe you should," he said. "Because eventually its going to come up and once the steamy sex disappears and you're faced with reality, its not going to be pretty."

"How do you figure?" she asked, humoring him.

"He goes back on tour in January, right? Do you know how you'll handle things then?" he asked. "And what about when his fans start to identify you and approach you?"

Molly scoffed. "Oscar, that will never happen. As for the tour, we'll figure it out just like we're figuring this out right now."

"Do you really think he'd move here? He'd be miserable. He's not cut out for this life." Oscar remarked.

"Why couldn't I move there?" she countered, more to prove a point than anything else. "I have no family here. My life is my work. I always wanted to practice international law. For argument's sake, why couldn't I move to Ireland?"

Oscar sighed. "I know you're being deliberately obstinent."

"Why don't you let me worry about myself, hmm?" she asked, grabbing her work bag. "I'll see you on Monday."

She left the office, heading for her car in the parking garage. As she drove home, she mentally ran through her wardrobe, trying to decide on what to bring. Her phone vibrated as she pulled into the parking lot.

Through customs. Headed to the rental. See you soon xx.

Molly parked and rushed upstairs. She hadn't packed much before heading in that morning, but the foundation was there; her makeup bag, a few toiletries, and several pair of underwear were already tossed into the suitcase. She threw open her wardrobe and began to pull things from hangers and baskets. Since she had court while she'd be staying with Andrew, she packed a black pants suit and a simple black midi dress into a garment bag. Without knowing what his plans were, she had to take a wild guess as to what to bring.

"I can always come back. Its not like I'm moving out," she reasoned to herself.

She checked in on Randy and gave him a few scratches behind the ears before grabbing her things and leaving. As she drove to the rental, her mind started drifting to seeing Andrew again. She wondered if things had changed at all between them, though her brain told her that was a stupid idea. Of course nothing had changed between them. He was still crazy about her. And she was still too focused on work to give him anything more. But some tiny part of her was wondering what it would be like to wake up to him every single morning.

Back in Ireland, they had spent a good number of evenings together, but usually she made up an excuse to keep from staying over more than two days in a row. This was two weeks. Two weeks of seeing him every morning when she woke up and every night before they went to sleep. Two weeks was long enough for bad habits to grate on each of them. She worried that she could do something that would put him off, or vice versa.

The sun had started to set by the time she pulled onto a residential street a couple blocks south of Vermont Square. She came to a stop outside a blue craftsman bungalow with a white fence around the front yard. The lights were on inside, making the house seem warm and inviting. She grabbed her things from the car, struggled up the sidewalk, and opened the gate. A neatly manicured lawn and perfectly pruned flower beds greeted her as she walked up the cobblestone path to the large front porch. Finally, she reached the front door and knocked, fixing her hair and clothes as she waited.

The door opened and Andrew stood in front of her looking exactly as she remembered him. "Molly!" he exclaimed, taking her in his arms for a tight hug.

She hugged him back, enjoying how it felt to be in his arms again and the clean, earthy smell that accompanied him. He leaned down to kiss her deeply and she was suddenly aware that they were still standing on the front porch.

"Come in," he said, opening the door. "I'll get those," he insisted, taking her bags from her.

The foyer was small and had a large archway that led into a well-appointed sitting room. The woodwork was stained a beautiful nut brown and looked to be in its original form. The hardwood floors peeked out from under a large red and yellow Turkish rug and built in bookshelves sat on either side of the large tiled fireplace. The smell of tomatoes and onions sizzling met her nose as he closed the front door.

"Something smells good," she remarked, taking her coat off.

As he took it from her, Molly noticed that he looked remarkably well rested for a man who supposedly just spent most of the day jumping through time zones.

"Hang on," she said, grabbing his face. "Why don't you look jetlagged? And how did you have time to cook if you just got in two hours ago?"

He smiled slowly. "I actually got in this morning."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she exclaimed, releasing his chin.

"I wanted to surprise you," he replied with a sheepish grin. "Are you surprised?"

She scoffed and swatted him playfully. "Yes! I can't believe you let me think I missed your calls earlier when you could have just told me you were already here!"

He took her hand in his and led her through the house to the modern kitchen. The cabinets were white, the counter tops were granite, and a blue mosaic tile was on the floor. Something was cooking on the stainless steel stove.

"So I figured I'd cook dinner tonight and we could have an easy night in to relax since you've probably had a chaotic week," he said.

He pulled a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and uncorked it expertly before pouring each of them a glass.

"The house is beautiful," she said, taking the glass as he slid it across the island.

"I made sure it had a space for you to work," he gestured to the dining room. "And it has two bedrooms."

She gave him a quizzical look. "Why two bedrooms?"

He looked at her over his glass. "In case you decide you need a bit of space from me," he said casually. "I know you Molly. I know you get all panicky whenever you feel like I'm pushing too much or we're getting too close. I didn't want to assume anything."

She wasn't sure if she should be impressed that he knew her well enough to plan for her needing space or concerned that he thought she might panic over spending a lot of time with him.

"Thank you," she said carefully.

"Obviously I hope we never have to use it," he added with a playful wink.

"What are you cooking?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Pasta," he replied. He turned to stir the contents of the skillet. "There's a salad in the fridge."

She opened the stainless steel door and pulled out the large glass bowl on the top shelf. "When did you go to the grocery store?" she asked in amazement.

"Honey, you can have just about anything delivered these days," he answered without looking up.

He took the skillet off the heat and started a large pot boiling. Molly watched as he worked diligently, chopping several vegetables. She was impressed that he'd gone through all that effort just to surprise her. She walked around the island and wrapped her arms around his torso, resting her nose against his back and inhaling deeply. He stopped for a second before resuming his task.

"I missed you," she whispered against his shirt.

He put his knife down, wiped his hands, and turned in her arms. Molly stood on her tip toes and kissed him softly and he brought his hands to her hips and relaxed into her body.

"I missed you, too," he replied against her lips. He reached behind her and turned off the burner. "Ready to eat?" he asked, looking down at her.

"Yes. I'm starving," she smiled.

She watched as he made two plates of pasta and added salad to two small bowls. They carried their meal into the dining room and dug in without ceremony. Andrew told her about his flights over and she listened happily. When they were finished eating, he gathered their dishes and made to wash them.

"I can wash up," she said. "You cooked. Let me at least clean up."

He relented and settled at the island on a barstool, sipping his third glass of wine. She washed things quickly, enjoying the solitude of the work as she felt his eyes on her back.

"I was thinking tomorrow we could check out the Natural History Museum," he said over the running water. "There are so many great museums and art galleries here. I always forget because I'm always busy every time I'm in town."

"Yeah, we could do that," she replied, putting a dinner plate into the dishwasher.

"Are there any places you recommend?" He asked.

"I can think of a few places," she said, going through them in her mind. "But I won't be able to show you around much since I'll be at work during the day."

"That's okay," he said, swirling his glass. "I can check them out on my own."

"I'll make a list," she answered, turning off the water and drying her hands.

He sighed and stood from the barstool. "I brought you something," he said.

"You mean something other than your wonderful, charming self?" she asked with a grin.

"Yes," he chuckled. "Wait here." He disappeared for a moment before reappearing with a clear plastic box. "Fresh from the Hozier-Byrne kitchen in County Wicklow, Ireland, I present my mother's world-famous shortbread biscuits, made specially for you yesterday afternoon."

Molly took the box and popped the lid off. "No! These are so fucking good!" she exclaimed, taking one of the white squares and biting off a corner.

She was instantly transported back five years ago when Andrew's mother had given her a few biscuits after dinner at their home. They were buttery, sweet, and delicious. Then his words replayed in her mind: made specially for you.

"Wait, you told your mom about us?" she asked, a slight panic forming in her stomach.

"Yes," he said calmly. "I told her I ran into you when I was in Los Angeles at the end of the last tour leg. I told her we were kind of taking a second chance."

"Why would you tell her that?!" Molly exclaimed, her breathing getting shallow.

"Breathe," Andrew intoned. "Because it would come up sooner or later. And I don't see why its an issue. She already knows how I felt about you. She knew before you left and she's the only one I told afterward. She likes you - a lot. I don't see what the problem is."

Because the more people that know, the more real it gets, she thought. But she couldn't tell him that. He'd think she wasn't serious about him. It wasn't that she wasn't serious, but rather that things were happening much faster than she wanted and she didn't know how to slow them down. She needed a moment to calm her racing thoughts.

Molly sighed and walked over to her bags still in the foyer. "I think I'll unpack," she said, dragging the suitcase down the hall to the spare bedroom.

"I just got here and you already need space?" he scoffed in disbelief as he followed her.

She paused and turned to face him. "I'm just putting my clothes in the closet in here so that when I wake up early for work, I don't bother you."

She started unpacking, hanging her clothes up and enjoying the silence. It gave her brain a chance to breathe and sort her thoughts out. She was glad that Andrew was back and she knew that she had missed him. It didn't really bother her that much that Raine knew they were back together again, but it bothered her that he hadn't talked with her about telling people before he'd done it. Still, she couldn't stay angry or upset with him, not when he had gone through so much effort to make the next two weeks as nice as possible.

After changing out of her work clothes and into comfy pajamas, she wandered back into the family room attached to the kitchen and found Andrew, legs crossed, reading a book, glasses edging their way down his long nose and brown curls sliding down the sides of his face. He looked like a teacher's assistant or a really young professor. All he was missing was the tweed jacket with elbow patches.

She circled around the sofa and sat on the coffee table in front of him. He looked up over the rims of his glasses and replaced his bookmark before shutting the book with a light thud. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and sighed as he took her in.

"What are you really upset about, Mol?" he asked.

"I'm not upset about anything," she lied.

"This relationship is only going to work if you're honest with me," he said patiently. "What are you upset about? Just tell me. You won't hurt my feelings." He ran his fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his face. "I'd rather you be honest than hide things to spare me."

Molly sighed heavily and slouched slightly. "I'm upset that you just decided to tell your mom about us being together without even talking to me first."

He nodded and bit his lip. "I'm sorry. That's on me," he admitted. "I...you're right. I should have talked to you about it first."

She tilted her head. Since he asked you to be honest... her mind started. He caught on and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"The gifts," she said. "I - you're so generous and lovely and I love all of them," she stammered. "But its just a lot. It feels like a lot. It doesn't feel like its slow to me. Its...just...its a little bit too much." Her heart felt so much lighter. And to her surprise, Andrew was smiling in front of her. "What?" she asked in confusion. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because we're actually communicating like couples are supposed to," he teased. "There's hope yet." She rolled her eyes. "I hear you. I will ease up. I think I was just so excited that I had you back in my life that I couldn't contain myself." He placed his hands on her knees. "From here on out, there will be strict levels of containment, ma'am." He gave her a mock salute, making her laugh.

"Thank you. I just need things to go a little slower," she explained.

He nodded and leaned forward to kiss her. "How about this? Is this okay?" he asked, kissing her softly.

"Yes," she said.

"And this?" he asked, kissing her neck. "That slow enough for you?" he ran his tongue slowly along her pulse point.

A low hum started in her throat as he worked his way up to her mouth again with agonizing slowness. "You're mocking me," she remarked.

"No," he said against her lips. "I just want to make sure I don't go too fast."

"You are mocking me," she sighed as he ran his hands up her thighs.

"Maybe," he replied with a hint of humor in his voice. "I just don't understand how you can be okay with having sex with me, but everything else is too much or too fast."

"Control," she replied simply, sliding off the coffee table to her knees. "I have more control over sex than anyhing else."

He chuckled, amused. "And what makes you think you have more control during sex?"

Molly raised an eyebrow and tilted her head before dipping her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. He let out a gasp as she pulled his cock out and placed it in her mouth, sucking until it was fully hard. She slid her mouth down until she felt the tip at the very back of her throat. Andrew hissed loudly and leaned his head back as she sped up.

She grazed her teeth gently against the sensitive skin and his hips bucked involuntarily. He brought his hands to her hair and wrapped the length of it around his hand. Molly sped up and started humming softly around his cock and each time it hit the back of her throat his hips jerked forward.

"P-please," he begged. "Fuck, don't stop."

Molly slowed down and started sucking harder. He threw his head back and groaned loudly.

"Molly, please," he gasped.

"Who's in control again?" she asked with a coquettish grin.

"Fuck, take my wallet, take my keys - you can have whatever the fuck you want, Mol," he moaned. "Jesus don't stop."

Molly sped up, enjoying the sounds of his moans echoing in the room. When she felt his body begin to tense, she stopped. He whimpered and looked at her with begging eyes but she stood up.

"What? Why'd you stop?" he asked, practically whining.

She shrugged casually. "Just felt like it."

"Seriously?" he exclaimed in frustration.

She enjoyed having this control over him, hearing him beg. "Yes. I did," she answered, staring him down as she stood in front of him. "And you're not going to do a damn thing about it."

She could tell he wanted to move, but thought better of it.

"So you're teasing me now?" he countered. "That's not fair."

"Of course its fair," she said confidently. "Because I trust you Andrew. And I know you'd never force me into anything I didn't want," she added with a mock sad voice. "You'll just have to wait until later, when I feel up to it."

She was playing a dangerous game, she knew. But she also knew that she was right: Andrew would never force himself on her. That didn't mean he couldn't get back at her some other way. But that was half the fun of teasing.

He sighed and looked at her. "Molly please don't leave me like this."

"I'm gonna take a shower," she said nonchalantly. "Consider that your punishment for telling your mom about us," she said over her shoulder as she walked away.

Molly half expected Andrew to join her in the shower, but he didn't. Instead she found him shirtless in the California King, reading the same book from earlier. She gave him a peck on the cheek as she rubbed lotion on her hands.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

He showed her the cover. The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness.

"How do you like it?" she asked, sitting next to him.

"Its interesting," he replied, though she got the feeling he wasn't actually reading.

"You're mad at me, aren't you?" she remarked. "For earlier."

He shook his head but didn't look up. "No, I'm not."

Several seconds of silence passed. "If you're not mad at me, then why aren't you talking to me?" she asked.

"I'm reading," he replied simply.

Molly stood and took the plush towel from her body before tossing it at his head. He picked it up and dropped it to the floor without looking over. She narrowed her eyes as he turned a page.

He's ignoring me, she thought.

She licked her lips and decided to take more serious action. "'Scuse me," she said, crawling over his legs and making sure he had an excellent view of her ass. She heard him grunt slightly, but otherwise he didn't react. Time to take it up a notch.

"You know what? I think I'll read, too," she said, grabbing a book from her night stand.

But instead of laying down with her head on her pillow, she picked it up and stuffed it under her chest as she lay with her head at the foot of the bed. She could feel his eyes boring into her skin from behind, but she ignored it. If he was going to ignore her, she could do the same.

He only lasted ten seconds.

She felt the bed move first as his weight shifted around. Then she felt his calloused fingers on the smooth skin of her upper thigh. His hands moved up to grip her ass firmly and she instinctively raised her hips to meet them. A second later, his hands slid up the sides of her body and his weight settled on top of her. She could feel his bare erection pressing against her leg and she pressed her ass further into his hips. He hissed against her ear.

She felt him move behind her, sliding her legs apart slightly. When she realized his intentions, she locked her ankles together and slid her knees forward, blocking his access.

"No party hat, no party," she said.

He sighed and collapsed against her. A second later, she felt him get up and later return. He lifted her hips so her back was arched before sliding into her. He didn't wait for her to respond before moving. She could tell he was frustrated. And she could tell he had no intention of stopping.

And she liked it.

He moved roughly, swiping her hair off her shoulder to bite the soft skin at the top. Molly moaned loudly at the sudden jolt of pain that mixed with pleasure. He reached under her body and gripped her breasts tightly.

"Shit, Andrew," she hissed, enjoying the way his nails dug into her skin.

He pulled out suddenly, stood, and flipped her over roughly before taking her hips and dragging her to the edge of the bed closer to him . Molly yelped and smiled up at him mischieviously.

"What's the plan, Andrew? You gonna fuck me until you aren't frustrated anymore?" she jibed.

"If I say yes?" he asked, sliding back into her.

He put his hands on the backs of her knees and pushed them up against her chest. She cursed loudly at the change in angle as he put some of his weight into his arms.

"I'd say fuck me harder," she purred back, enjoying this animalistic side of him.

His eyes met hers as he slammed into her roughly and she brought her hand up to his throat. He took it and pinned it over her head, along with her other hand. She moaned with each thrust and cried out as she came hard.

Molly's head went fuzzy as she surrendered to him. He slowed his movements to kiss her deeply before slamming into her again. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she lost coherent thought.

"That hard enough?" Andrew asked, biting her bottom lip.

Molly's breath was ragged as she looked up at him gasping. This side of Andrew was new. He'd never been this rough with her; he was always sweet and generous and careful. Her needs were always met first and he never ordered her around, not like this at least. He would never be this rough with her though. This was yet another wonderful surprise from him.

"Y-yes," she stammered, struggling to form words through the brain fog.

The power he had over her in the moment was intoxicating. She never submitted like this and it felt incredible. She didn't feel she had to worry with him. She was able to relax with him and truly enjoy every single thing he was doing to her.

He slowed slightly, as if he was focusing on making her feel every inch of his cock. They were both breathing heavily and he released her wrists and straightened up. She reached for his hands and entwined her fingers with his. This small gesture made him slow further.

He ran his hands along her legs, slowly bringing them around his waist. He brought his thumb to her clit and rubbed it slowly, making her arch her back. A grin spread across his mouth as he watched her and she felt her body tense again. She started to shudder, even as he dropped to an agonizingly slow pace.

"I thought you said you had control during sex?" he joked.

He traced his finger tips up her abdomen and between her breasts before resting them softly against her neck. Molly brought both hands to his wrist, a hint of fear rising up from her belly. He took the hint and slid his hand up to the side of her face instead and leaned over to kiss her softly.

She looked up at him and ran her fingers across his face, tracing every line. "I adore you," she said softly, ecstasy loosening her tongue.

He smiled softly. "I adore you, too."

He began moving again, softer this time. Molly felt a tenderness come over him as he brought his thumb back to her clit. He rubbed it softly, just enough to make her moan his name and tense up. He hissed as he moved, throwing his head back.

"Fuck, Molly," he hummed. He tensed and then poured himself into her, gripping her hips as he did.

Molly followed a second later, shuddering underneath him. Andrew trailed his fingers along her jaw and kissed her softly as she shook. She lay there, gasping for air and shaking, not even sure what year it was. The ceiling was spinning and it took her several seconds to realize it was a fan spinning slowly overhead. He appeared in her line of vision and shifted her so he could cover her with the blanket. By the time they were both settled under the blanket, she had regained the ability to speak.

"Jesus Christ," she said, her voice ragged.

"Its Andrew, actually, but I guess that works too," he joked, playing with her long hair.

Molly rolled her eyes. "Dick."

He smiled and held her tightly, resting his chin against the top of her head. She could hear his heart beating steadily in his chest.

"How come you never did that before?" she asked.

"Did what?"

"You've never been really...rough with me," she said, lifting her head. "What changed?"

He considered her for a minute. "I don't know," he replied. "I guess I'm just more comfortable with you. I experiment more." She saw a hint of self consciousness pass over his face. "Did you like it?"

"Until two seconds ago, I couldn't form a logical thought," she answered. "What do you think?"

He smiled. "Can I ask you something?" She nodded. "Please don't take this the wrong way," he prefaced. "But this time I noticed you were less...controlling. It felt like you were more relaxed, like you gave me permission to do more."

"That's a statement, not a question," she observed.

"What changed?" he asked, twisting her hair around his forefinger.

She thought for a second. "I think it was just that I'm learning to trust you." She paused for a moment. "I don't trust easily and I don't really have a lot of need to."

"What do you mean, you don't have a lot of need to trust?" he asked.

"I'm usually too busy for...anything," she said slowly. "It doesn't come up."

He raised an eyebrow as a grin spread across his face. "Wait, are you telling me that you hardly have sex?"

Molly felt a blush start. "No...I have plenty...of sex," she said slowly, looking away.

"Molly, I don't care how many people you did or didn't sleep with before me," he said. "I'm just happy you're comfortable enough with me to really enjoy yourself."

"I always enjoy myself," she said.

"Sex should be enjoyable for each person involved. I want you to feel comfortable with me every time, no matter what," he told her. "Never feel like you can't tell me if I'm doing something you want more of. I'm always happy to serve," he said with a wink as he played with her fingers.

"I think you served quite well," she smiled, laying her head down again. "You're the first person to literally fuck me thoughtless."

He burst into laughter. "Happy to oblige." He looked at her for a second. "We should get cleaned up."

She followed him into the bathroom and watched as he got the shower going. Water poured from the rainwater showerhead and steam covered the glass divider. Andrew walked out of the stall as the water ran. He took her hand and led her back in after him.

"Your hair is so long," he remarked, running his fingers through it. "Don't you ever cut it?"

Molly shook her head. "Long hair is a sign of beauty and purity in Roma women. They take a lot of pride in their hair and are really careful about who touches it," she explained. "In my specific community, we would only cut our hair following a death in the family or after a birth. Just a few inches to cleanse the spirit."

He gathered it into a low pony tail behind her head and it fell to her lower back. "How do you manage it though?"

A hint of sadness rose up. "I cut it on New Year's Eve. Kind of like a cleansing ritual."

Andrew picked up on her change in mood. "I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?"

She shook her head again. "Its okay. You asked. I told you I'd answer things."

"Is it bad luck for me to touch it?" he asked, eyes wide.

"Since you're an outsider, yes," she said.

He dropped her hair like it was on fire. "Jesus, I'm so sorry. I've been touching it all this time."

She took his hands in hers. "Its okay, honey. I don't think its bad luck." She locked her hands behind his neck. "Most Roma women think outsiders mean them harm and have negative spirits. You obviously don't mean me harm amd I think you're the most positive person I've ever met," she chuckled.

He relaxed visibly. "Jesus, you had me fucking worried."

Molly laughed, her voice echoing off the tile. He brought his hands back to her hair as water cascaded through it. "Be honest," she said. "Do you have a hair fetish? Are you going to ask to cum in my hair next?" she joked.

It was his turn to burst into laughter. "You caught me," he laughed. "I get hard just thinking of hair. The barber shop is a nightmare for me." He slid her wet hair over her shoulder.

She reached for her bottle of shampoo and squeezed a large amount into her palm. She started to scrub her scalp but he stopped her, taking over. His fingers worked the lather expertly through her hair and she closed her eyes, enjoying the massage. He tilted her head back to allow the water to flow over it.

"Mmmm Andrew if the music gig ever goes tits up for you, you could switch to doing this," she hummed happily.

"That's a great idea," he said. "Helps with the fetish." She could hear the smile in his voice.

She smiled, but kept her eyes closed. "Conditioner next," she said. "Green bottle."

She heard the bottle click open and then closed and a second later felt the cool, creamy conditioner on her scalp. He worked it through to the ends of her hair like an expert. After another second, she felt his hands move to her shoulders and begin to massage them with firm pressure.

"I'm serious. You have fucking magical hands," she sighed.

"Thank you," he purred against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

He finished washing her hair and moved on to a body wash, taking the time to gently scrub every inch of her skin. When he was finished, she returned the favor as best she could, given the height difference between them. They toweled off and went back into the bedroom. Molly had wrapped a towel around her head in an effort to help dry her hair faster. She pulled on a pair of pajamas and settled next to him on the bed with a comb before taking the towel off and beginning the process of combing the tangles out.

Again, Andrew took the comb from her and started doing it himself. Molly was transported back to her childhood as the comb tugged gently at her hair. She forced those memories away and tried to focus on the man sitting next her her. He was kind and generous and perfect for her, yet she couldn't love him as he loved her. She wasn't sure if it would come with time or if she'd even recognize it when it did arrive. All she knew was that she enjoyed their time together and for her, in that moment, it was enough.