Chapter Text
And Jane did as she asked.
He raised his right hand very slowly, running his index finger up the buttons on Lisbon’s shirt, before flicking open the first one, then another one, taking his time. His left hand was braced against the wall next to Lisbon’s head, keeping her trapped. While he was working open each button, his eyes never left hers, watching every micro-expression she displayed, and he stared at her so intensely, so full of lust that Lisbon felt more trapped by his unrelenting gaze than she felt trapped by his body.
Once Jane was finished, Lisbon raised her trembling hands to undress him too, but he caught her wrist and whispered, “No,” his voice hoarse as if he had been screaming for hours.
Lisbon felt confused and suddenly uncomfortably exposed in her unbuttoned shirt when he was still fully dressed, even though the wet fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination. “No?” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.
“Teresa,” he said softly, and dropped to his knees in front of her. “I’m still not done seducing you.”
Then he pressed his lips against the exposed skin of her stomach, and Lisbon didn’t mind her state of undress so much anymore. He did it slowly, softly, determined to kiss every inch of her and it was driving her crazy. She felt like drowning; she felt like she would soon die of thirst. He carefully held her in place, both hands on her hips, and she braced herself against the wall behind her, wanting him to move lower, to stop this torture. No one before had made her feel like this, had made her want something so much, and he had to feel what this was doing to her, how he made her quiver, how he made her breath hitch when he sucked on the soft skin of her stomach.
“Why are you torturing me like this?” she finally asked, unable to hold back any longer.
“I haven’t even started yet,” was his mumbled reply.
Then he let his hand wander up her side and brushed his thumb over her still clothed nipple – it almost felt like an accident, but Lisbon knew it wasn’t – and a small moan escaped her at the touch. The sound made Jane stop and look up at her smugly, and Lisbon had to swallow at the sight of him like this.
His voice was different from how it had sounded at the bar, from how it had sounded every time he had tried to seduce her. It wasn’t low anymore, it was soft and quiet, almost inaudible over the sound of the rain, but there was also a hoarseness to it, an edge that made Lisbon shudder.
“Say it.”
It was just two words but hearing him say them in this voice shut down Lisbon’s brain. He could have said anything to her sounding like that and she would have been unable to resist him.
She closed her eyes briefly before replying, “Say what?”
She found herself unable to form a coherent thought. Whatever it was he wanted her to say, she needed more information than that. Jane, however, thought she was teasing him again, and stood up. With a quiet hum, he started kissing her neck carefully, much as he had kissed her stomach, one hand tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck so he could move her head in whatever direction suited him best. But this was getting to him as much as it was getting to her, he couldn’t pretend any longer. Lisbon noticed this first when his kisses grew firmer, then faster, until he finally bit down on her skin and she gasped loudly, her eyes flying open.
As a response Jane pushed her against the wall, both hands on her hips. Then his mouth was next to her ear and he repeated, “Say it,” in a low rumble before nipping at the skin of her neck again.
“Jane,” Lisbon breathed, “if you leave a mark, I swear to God …”
But both of them would never learn what she would do to him because he suddenly pushed her up against the wall, so she was fully trapped, pressing up against her, and she could feel the evidence of how much he wanted this – wanted her – against her leg. They were both panting, his forehead was pressed to hers, and she finally allowed herself to touch him, bracing a hand against his heaving chest.
When he said it again, a third time, it sounded so dark and pleading, it was so much, too much, and Lisbon couldn’t take it any longer, so she leaned back her head, separating their faces, and looked directly into his blue eyes.
“I want you, Patrick.”
She felt his hand on the hem of her trousers, fumbling with her belt, then with the button and zipper, fast, expertly, and it didn’t take him long to achieve his goal. He pushed his hand inside, running it over the fabric of her underwear, and it was so unexpected, to quick all of a sudden, that Lisbon moaned in surprise, her hands gripping Jane’s arms. After an eternity of teasing her, it seemed Jane didn’t want to hold back any longer. His fingers were moving slowly, and she knew he could feel how much she wanted him, and it only encouraged him. With his other hand, he tried to unhook her bra, his nails scraping against her back, looking for a clasp.
“It opens in the front,” she whispered breathlessly, a light laughter in her voice.
He growled and unhooked it with nimble fingers, and then his mouth was on her nipple and the laughter died in her throat. All that mattered was his swirling tongue, his nipping teeth, making her forget everything, even her own name. Had she known his mouth could do that, she wouldn’t have wasted years trying to ignore her feelings for him. He was still stroking her slowly while setting her on fire with his tongue and it wasn’t enough, she wanted more, so she pushed her hips forward impatiently. As a response he bit down hard on her nipple, adding pain to pleasure, but she only moved her hips again.
“I’m setting the pace,” he reminded her, his breath ghosting over her nipple.
Lisbon sighed. “You won’t have to set it for much longer.”
This made him pause and straighten his back. He pulled his hand out of her trousers, making her squirm impatiently, and then he just looked at her, his eyes low and dark. “That good?” he asked, and if Lisbon’s brain hadn’t been entirely grounded in the present, her thoughts would have wandered back to the massage he had given her when he had asked her the same.
“Yes,” she replied seriously.
There was no use in teasing him anymore; she wanted him to know how good he made her feel. It was unbelievable, really – they were still wearing most of their clothes and yet she was already so close it wouldn’t have taken much more to push her over the edge. This simple three-letter word was also finally enough to make Jane pause. The look in his eyes changed from lust to wonder, and before she knew what was happening, his hand was cupping her cheek and his lips were on hers.
It was everything she had ever wanted; her entire life, her entire existence on this planet was reduced to Jane’s lips on hers caressing her, claiming her, coaxing her. He tasted of cheap soda and spearmint chewing gum and of Jane. She couldn’t explain it, but there was a taste that was so uniquely him, a taste she couldn’t quite pin down or describe in words, but she had always known he would taste like this. She kissed him back, her hands coming up to grip his wet curls, trying to savor as much of him as possible, to soak him in, to memorize this. Jane grabbed her thigh and lifted it, so her leg slung around his hip, deepening the kiss while he did so. Lisbon bit down on his bottom lip possessively, which caused him to push forward, to grind against her.
He froze.
Lisbon could tell he was surprised by his own actions, unsure for the first time. So she did it again, sucked his bottom lip in between her teeth and bit down, and he started to move again, to grind against her, which made her feel light-headed, drunk, intoxicated. She held onto him, marveling at him losing control like that, astonished he would let go.
But the moment passed quickly. Jane regained his self-control and let go of her leg. Before Lisbon could complain, his lips were on hers again, kissing her desperately, hungrily, and then his hand was skimming the waistband of her underwear. She sucked in a surprised breath, which made Jane chuckle, and when he pushed past the waistband, Lisbon tangled her hands in his shirt, tugging at the fabric, scraping his arms.
Then he touched her, and Lisbon moaned so loudly she was sure the other people in the motel had heard. It was a primal sound, one no other man had ever invoked in her, and by the way Jane’s muscles shifted beneath her grip she was sure he knew. He began to tease her, to stroke her softly, and she shivered, pushed towards him, holding on for dear life. Two of his fingers came to rest at the apex of her thighs, pushing softly, but not giving her the release she craved. Instead, he let them hover there, waiting for something, and she tensed up, strained like a bowstring.
“Do you want me to show you what my fingers can do?”
She groaned, releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, and he captured her lips again, and finally pushed his fingers inside of her. She jerked forward, biting down on his bottom lip. It was as if everything they had done during the last few weeks had been leading up to this moment. Lisbon was on fire; her skin, her thoughts, her breath, everything was steam and heat, scorching her and Jane. Jane moaned at the sensation of his fingers buried inside of her, and it was the first time she heard him make a sound like this, low, carnal, as he pulled his fingers back out and pushed inside a second time, then a third, fourth, fifth, curling them slightly with each thrust.
Lisbon was so engulfed in what Jane was doing to her, it took her a moment to realize he was not letting his other hand stand idly by. He cupped one of her breasts, playing with it, while the thumb on his other hand touched her where she had wanted to be touched most ever since he had told her he wanted her, and it was too much. She couldn’t hold on any longer and came undone, gasping for air, waves upon waves of pleasure rippling through her. Jane stilled, held her, and when she looked up, she saw he was watching her intently, like he was filing every second of this away in his memory palace. Lisbon had just had one of the best orgasms of her life but seeing his eyes on her like that sent another bolt of arousal through her. She had always known he would be like this, would like to watch her come undone and know he was responsible for it, and she had feared she wouldn’t like it, but now she had to discover she was craving it, wanted him to look at her like this again and again.
They didn’t break eye contact as Jane pulled his fingers out of her and proceeded to finally push her shirt off her shoulders. She stepped out of her trousers, while he kicked off his shoes, then did the same. Lisbon was finally allowed to unbutton his shirt, but she didn’t take her time, like he had done, instead hurried, tearing at the buttons impatiently. They didn’t need any words to tell the other what they should be doing, they were communicating with touches and glances, and it felt so natural, an extension of how they usually were around each other.
Somehow, Lisbon wasn’t entirely sure how, they ended up on the bed, her back pressing down against the bedspread, Jane on top of her, stroking her sides, her breasts, any part of her he could reach. Lisbon arched her back, pressing up into his touch, urging him on, but then he suddenly stopped, and told her to stop too in his normal voice, the one he always used when he talked to her.
A familiar feeling of dread settled on Lisbon as she tried to decipher what she had done wrong. She tensed and asked, a note of panic in her voice, “What’s the matter?”
Jane’s gaze was soft, his features illuminated by the small bedside lamp that was still burning, and she heard him clearly over the sound of the rain as he said, “No, don’t worry. I’m planning on finishing this. I just need you to know I would never use you.”
Lisbon sighed and it sounded almost like a sob. “I know,” she told him, reaching up to cup his cheek.
He leaned into her touch briefly but then shook his head. “No, you don’t. You mean the world to me, Teresa.”
Then he kissed her very softly and it felt like a first kiss, even though they had already exchanged countless others this evening. She tried to relax, rolling his words around in her mind, beginning to understand, a small flame of hope igniting in her chest. But any doubts, fears or hopes were quickly pushed aside when he moved lower, kissing her neck, her collarbones, the hollow of her throat, her breasts, her stomach, his hands meanwhile drawing patterns on her legs, brushing along the insides of her thighs, until she was panting again, gasping for air.
“Patrick, please,” she breathed, and it was merely a whimper.
But he heard her. He pushed into her very slowly and she couldn’t help but moan a word that sounded suspiciously like his name. He slowly began to move, thrusting his hips at a steady but languid pace, while she covered his necks in kisses, exhaling small, encouraging moans. Then she lay back down, deciding it was her turn to watch him. He returned her gaze with so much love and openness, she only wanted him more, her whole body aching for his touch, aching for him to let her make him feel as good as he he had made her.
For the first time in her life, Lisbon understood why it was called making love.
With a sigh, Jane buried his face in her neck and nipped at her skin, groaning quietly. She didn’t reprimand him again because she had to realize she wouldn’t mind a mark there to remind her of what they had done. He wanted her to be his, she knew that, even if he himself didn’t know, or if he couldn’t find the right words to say it yet. But she had seen it in the way he looked at her, could feel it in his movements, in the weight of his body on hers, his skin scraping against her own, their mingled breaths full of want and promises. She finally understood what he had meant when he had said he wouldn’t be able to stop once they started.
His thrusts were harder and faster now, and Lisbon could feel herself hurtling toward the edge again. She closed her eyes, absorbed in the feeling of him inside of her, making her feel like this, when she heard his voice, the one that could ask anything of her, and she would comply.
“Look at me.”
She forced herself to look at him, even though she knew it would be too intense, but she wanted him to see and wanted to see him as she came a second time, her body arching up into his, but his gaze pinning her down. She had no idea what he saw in her beneath him like this, but suddenly there was a low, dangerous, animalistic growl around them as he thrust into her hard and fast, making Lisbon cry out in pleasure. She slung her legs around his back, moaning, meeting his thrusts, until he finally let go, collapsing on top of her.
Lisbon let her hands run down his back. “Jane?” she asked softly when he showed no intention of moving.
He hummed so she could feel the vibrations of it against her chest. Then, with a deep sigh, he rolled over to his side and stared at the ceiling.
“Jane?” Lisbon repeated, hating how worried she sounded. What if Jane would regret what they had just done? He had regretted agreeing to seduce her, so why not this too?
He pulled her close, so she was lying partially on top of him and pressed a hard kiss to her forehead. Lisbon relaxed against him, draping an arm across his chest, not caring that everything felt sticky. Outside, the rain continued to fall, but it was quieter now, just as Lisbon felt more at peace.
“I just need a moment,” Jane mumbled finally.
“That good?” Lisbon said in a teasing voice, lifting her head so she could look at him.
A flush spread across Jane’s cheeks and at seeing it, she couldn’t help but lean down and kiss him softly. He kissed her back, his eyes closed, a mixture of relief and pain on his face.
“Jane, what’s the matter?” she asked softly.
Jane sighed again and stroked her hair, once, twice before answering, “You got what you wanted.”
Lisbon swallowed around a lump that was suddenly forming in her throat, still on a high from what they had done, but coming down to earth quickly, a confusing mixture of feelings pulling her in different directions.
“Didn’t you want this?” she asked carefully.
“Yes, I did,” he answered, “but I don’t think we want the same to come out of this.”
She kissed him again, desperate to not let him see the disappointment in her face. “What do you want?” she asked him, steeling herself for the answer, preparing herself to live with whatever decision he would make.
Jane huffed. “I can’t expect anything of you, I know it’s not fair, and it’s not what you want, but if circumstances were different, if Red John wasn’t still out there, I would …” He didn’t finish the sentence, just shrugged.
“You would what?” Lisbon whispered and buried her face in his neck, trying to be as close to him as she could while he still let her.
“I wanted you to win the bet,” Jane continued. “I thought you would want to win too. It had never occurred to me you would actually like to be seduced by me, but the more I thought about it, the more sense it made.”
“Because you think you’re irresistible?” Lisbon teased him.
Jane squeezed her arm. “No, because you don’t like being in a relationship. You like having your freedom, and sometimes, when you feel like it, some fun. And that’s fine, that’s normal, there’s nothing wrong with that. You thought it would be fun to play this game with me for a little while and then just move on with your life.”
Lisbon felt tears well up in her eyes. “That’s not fair.”
Jane continued without acknowledging what she had said. “I thought I would be okay with it. But the closer I got to you, the harder it became for me to ignore these feelings you invoke in me, and I knew that if I ever acted on them, I wouldn’t be able to go back to seeing you as just a friend.”
“Can I say something?” Lisbon asked.
“In a minute,” he told her softly. “I want you to understand that I didn’t come here this evening because I wanted to have fun but meaningless sex with you. I came here because I couldn’t stand you not knowing how I felt any longer. I just wanted to talk to you, explain why I acted the way I did, and ask you to forgive me. I didn’t expect you would let me in again, and I definitely didn’t expect you would …” He made a vague gesture at her.
“So you regret it?” Lisbon asked in a cold tone of voice.
“No, not a single moment,” Jane said quickly. “If I had to do it all again, I would. I just want you to know why this might be difficult for me.”
“Has it ever occurred to ask me how I feel?” Lisbon continued. “You think you know everything, but you could have just told me all of that from the start and I –”
Jane laughed a short, loud laugh that made Lisbon sit up. “That would have been a fun conversation. ‘Hey, Lisbon, guess what. I’m in love with you’.”
“You’re what?”
“Yeah, that’s what you would have said, then you would have rolled your eyes and walked away with that annoyed walk you always do when I get on your nerves.” Jane looked at her, a sad smile on his face.
Lisbon couldn’t hold back the tears any longer; she felt them running down her cheeks. Everything came crushing down on her at once: being so close to Jane, his confession, her own conflicting feelings, her fear of losing him, and her hopes for a future together. Jane didn’t hesitate for a single second but pulled her against his chest, making soothing noises, holding her close.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry I’m putting this on you. You deserve so much better than this. Than me. I cannot offer you anything, least of all the life you deserve.”
“Shut up!” Lisbon sobbed and he did. “How can you say all these things and actually believe them? How can you stand there and assume this doesn’t mean anything to me when it means everything?”
She had sensed they would have to talk about this sooner or later, but that it would happen in a shabby motel in southern California during a heavy rainstorm after the most amazing sex of her life hadn’t occurred to her.
“Teresa,” Jane said carefully, “you don’t have to –”
“I don’t have to what?” she challenged, still pressed against his chest. “Tell you I feel the same, have been feeling the same for quite some time now? Tell you I couldn’t care less about whether you think I deserve someone better when all I want is you? Because if you were about to suggest we should go back to pretending we’re just friends after you …,” she hesitated, “after you made love to me like that, then I’m leaving right this minute and we’re done, forever.”
Jane moved and before she knew what was happening, his lips had found hers. The way he kissed her made all the kisses they had shared so far seem meaningless and trivial. He put everything into the kiss he couldn’t tell her yet, and she, in turn, was determined to prove to him that her confession hadn’t just been empty words.
“I cannot promise you anything,” Jane said softly as they broke apart, resting his forehead against hers.
“I know,” Lisbon replied, her heart racing with longing and hope, dizzy with the possibility of what they were about to commit to.
“The day might come when I … when Red John kills me,” he continued, a heaviness in his voice, “or I kill him.”
She knew this and she hated it. But if this was the path he wanted to go down on, she would be there for him as best as she could. “I know,” she repeated.
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Of course not.” Lisbon’s voice was steady and calm, her lips tasting of salt. She knew he would accept whatever she said next. If she told him to leave, he would do it. If she told him to stay until morning, he would do it. But if she told him he should stop his pursuit of revenge, he would choose Red John over her. It was the deal she was willing to make to keep him close.
“I will never be okay with you putting yourself in danger like that. I will never be okay with you pursuing this, knowing full well it might be the death of you. But I’m willing to accept it. And I will do anything I can to help you. And to make sure you get out of it alive.”