Home?

[freshoffthefarm]

Annie had resisted the overwhelming urge to spend the next week at Clay's apartment just in case he came home. As six days, then seven passed, she honestly thought she was going to come out of her skin if he didn't call her. Every night, she lay awake in her own bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if, during that last week, something had gone horrendously wrong.

The night of the eighth day, Annie got ready for bed, throwing herself onto it in frustration, knowing that her dreams would be restless, if she even managed to fall asleep.

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[freshoffthefarm]

Annie hadn't really ever been celibate, but making love to Clay was different than being with someone else... it always had been. With him being away, she could appreciate the way he felt inside her, the way he held her, the way she could kiss him while they moved.

"I love you," she whispered, running her hands down his back.

[fakes-death.livejournal.com]

Her hands down his back made him moan, "Love you too."

And he really did, more than anything maybe even more than his job.

[freshoffthefarm]

Those words would never not make her feel warm all over and as she pulled him deeper, she lifted her hips against his.

Kissing him again, Annie moaned softly, feeling the beginnings of her release.