A Worthwhile Song

Author: Tulip

Rating: NC-17
Category: Romance

Spoilers: Up through Dangerous Games

Disclaimer: They ain't mine. They belong to CBS, Bellisario, etc. I'm just borrowing them and not for purposes of profit. Y no tengo dinero.

Feedback: Sure.

Notes: Thanks again to Shannon for keeping this story on her website. This chapter is for the Lovely & Talented Laurel, for her birthday, and wouldn't have been possible without "beta services by Lin." Also, the song is by Janet Jackson, and it's called "Would You Mind" off her "All For You" CD. I mean no copyright infringement by it, and I do like the album, and she is, in fact, fabulous in concert.

I am so tired of dealing with the local yokels in rural Virginia, in my attempts to defend Lieutenant Reynolds. He's kind of arrogant, which isn't helping matters, but the cops seem predisposed against the SEALs, just on general principle. I'm glad it's the weekend, even though Clay's not going to be around. We've hardly had any time together this week, and he's taking his mother on an opera/theatre/art weekend to New York for her birthday. He asked if I wanted to go, and it's not that I didn't want to, but this is a thing that they do on a fairly regular basis, and I don't want to intrude on their time together. I don't need to be with him 24/7--I know he's not running off to be with another woman. Well, he is, but it's his mother, so it doesn't count.

Anyway, I'm going to stop by and see Bud, who just got home, then I'm picking Chloe up at the airport for a girls' weekend. We're going to eat junk food, see chick flicks, and dance around in our pajamas. Or something to that effect. And Chloe's said she's bringing some new music with her, to make me hip. I actually listen to current music on the radio, but I never know what I'm hearing, usually. So, she called me an old fogey when I didn't know who Outkast was. Now, I do. Actually, I knew the song she was talking about, I just didn't know who sang it. But, I'm not going to quibble with her; it makes her happy.

I change clothes at the office, and stop by Bud and Harriet's for a little while. I'm glad I have an excuse to leave, though; it's always hard to know when you're overstaying your welcome with Bud and Harriet, because they're so nice. I know Bud gets tired really easily, and I'm not confident that he'd say so. I'm there for about forty minutes, and Bud seems very chipper, until I have to take off to get Chloe or risk being late.

Chloe's completely hyper from having been cooped up on a plane, and I head straight back to my place and park. We walk to dinner, which is one of the advantages to living in Georgetown. It also serves the dual purpose of burning off some of her energy. I take her to eat Afghan food, which she's never had, and she spends the entire dinner interrogating me about Clay. I think she'll make a fine homicide detective someday, actually.

It turns out, on the walk back, that part of the purpose of focusing our dinner conversation on my relationship with Clay was a lead-in to the question which Chloe apparently finally worked up her courage to ask: "So, what's it like, sex?"

I am completely unprepared to answer that question, but Chloe's in high school, so I can't spin her a story. And, you know, maybe she can learn from some of my mistakes. But I know I need to tread carefully. "It's wonderful, when you love the other person."

"What if you don't?"

"Well," I'm trying to think of how to put this without lying to her, but trying to get my point across, "it can be pleasurable, but, really, it's so much better when you're in love. What's prompting you to ask?" That's the real question.

"A few of my girlfriends say they've done it. One of them said it was really great, and the other said it wasn't."

"Chloe," I say, very careful not to imply that I think she's on the verge of losing her virginity or something, "I'm going to tell you something that I'd like you to keep between us. I was just a little younger than you my first time. And, looking back, I really, really regret it. I did it for all the wrong reasons, and it wasn't good. It hurt because he didn't wait for me to be physically ready, and it was over in like 3 minutes, which trust me, isn't the way it's supposed to be. I didn't realize how bad it was until later. And the boy told a bunch of people about it, and I spent the rest of high school being known as a slut. I didn't touch another guy until I met my husband."

"Wow. I didn't know."

"I'm only telling you so that you think about it. Hardly anyone knows about this. I wasn't sure enough, and it's a really huge thing to give away. You can't ever get it back. And to waste it, I just really regret it."

Chloe says, "I'm sorry, Mac." She hugs me, and I hug her back. "And I know it's a big deal. My friend, Aimee, who said it was bad, told me she wished she didn't. When she told her boyfriend she wasn't ready, and she didn't want to do it anymore, he dumped her."

"Yeah, that happens a lot. Boys can be very, very selfish. Not to change the subject or anything, but shall we get some ice cream?" She nods. "I'm glad you feel like you can talk to me about these things, Chloe." I really am. I can't imagine her trying to have this conversation with her father, or her grandmother.

"Well, you tell me the truth. So, it's good with Clay?"

"Chloe!" We just walked into the ice cream shop, and everyone heard her question. I'm sure I've turned beet red.

"I have my answer," she smirks. Somehow, she's suddenly channeling my boyfriend. This is kind of scary. She and Clay get along like gangbusters, having bonded over horses. She's been taking lessons from him in sarcasm, apparently, at least from what her grandmother has told me.

I ignore her, and we order our ice cream, to go. "So, Chloe, any boys in your life?" I ask, loudly, before we're out the door.

"Mac!" She shrieks in embarrassment.

"Well? You spent our entire dinner grilling me about Clay, I can't ask you?" I poke her in the side.

"Well, there's a boy I like, but we're friends. We go riding together all the time, and I can be myself with him. He's really into horses, too. Other people think he's kind of strange, but I like him. Other people don't really know him."

"Chloe," I say, pulling her into a hug, "He sounds great. What's his name?"

"Bennett."

"So, is he cute?"

"Yeah. Well, I think he's kind of cute."

"Maybe next time I visit, you can introduce me." I stop badgering her.

"Yeah, you should come with Clay in the fall. We can ride horses."

"Maybe go sailing..." Clay and I are signed up to take some sailing lessons in Annapolis next weekend. It turns out we've both always wanted to learn.

"That would be really fun. We can get lobsters, too!"

"Only if you throw them in the pot. I just can't do it. With crabs, either."

"But you're a Marine!" We giggle our way back to my place and watch Sixteen Candles. We talk until way too late afterwards.

Saturday, I take her out to ride, and we're gone all day. On the way home, we decide to order in and chill out for the evening. A few weeks ago, I finally broke down and bought the Pride and Prejudice DVDs, and I'm going to make her watch them with me. She's never seen it, and she definitely should. And, as for me, my motto is, you can never have too much Colin Firth. I order Chinese for delivery, and hop in the shower first. When I get out, she's talking on the phone.

"Thanks for letting us ride today, it was really fun," I hear her say, and I know she's talking to Clay. I smile, knowing he's on the phone. She sees me and tells him to hang on.

I send her to the shower, and make sure she goes in there, and isn't eavesdropping, so I can have a private conversation. It's not like we're going to be having phone sex, but she's certainly been nosy this weekend.

"Hey there," I say.

"Hey, Sarah, how's it going?" I can hear him smiling.

"Very well. You were the topic of a good deal of conversation last night, and then she asked about our sex life."

"What?!" I knew that'd get him going. "What did you tell her?"

"That I can't keep my hands off you."

"You didn't say that," Clay says, trying to sound entirely sure of himself, but I know there's a niggle of doubt.

"Of course I didn't. Frankly, she was kind of freaking me out. I'm glad she feels she can talk to me about these things, but I was really afraid she'd been getting pressured. She has two friends who've told her they had sex..."

"Are you kidding me? How old is she, like 12?"

"Clay, she's 15. I was..." I stop. I don't know if he wants to know this.

"You were what, Sarah?" He asks softly. I know he's aware that this time in my life is not something I like to talk about, but he always manages to coax me through it.

"I was almost 15 my first time, it was right before my birthday. I told her, and I told her it was way too soon. I'm not sure if I did the right thing, being so honest with her." I sit on the chair so I can see into my room, for when she gets out of the shower, so I can stop this conversation.

"She respects your opinion, and I'm sure she'll think about it whenever the situation presents itself. At least, I hope she'll think about it. You're a great role model, Sarah."

"Thanks," I whisper. "I hope she thinks about it too. She has a crush on one of her riding companions, Bennett. I think we should go up to Maine in the fall and check out the leaves."

"And him."

"As if you'd turn down riding?"

"Well, that's true," he laughs.

"Besides, it's been a long time since I went to see her. So, how is your weekend? Are you getting all artsy-fartsy?"

"Yeah. The opera was great. We have... I can't even remember what tonight. I've been all over the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I feel like I should watch sports or something tomorrow."

"Feeling less than manly or something?"

"I don't know. I think people have been assuming I'm gay all day, I'm with my mother, at an art museum..."

"And you dress very well. But they don't know you like I know you." He laughs.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Use your imagination," I say, as I hear the shower go off. "These walls have ears."

"Yeah, mine do too. Shall I come over after we get back?"

"I'm dropping Chloe at National at 7, maybe your place? You have a better tub." There's a knock at the door. "My dinner's here. I have to go."

"See you tomorrow. Just come over whenever; you have a key."

"Okay. Have fun tonight. Bye." I pay for the dinner, and by the time I've got it set up, Chloe's out of the bathroom. She puts a CD on for our dinnertime enjoyment.

It's Janet Jackson, and Chloe tells me that she saw her in concert after a friend of hers won tickets on the radio. She can't believe she hasn't told me all of this, and I just smile as she prattles on about it. Suddenly, this song comes on, and it's a fairly explicit description of how Janet plans on greeting her lover, who's apparently been gone for a while. My eyebrow goes up.

"Yeah, you should've seen how she performed this song. She pulled some guy up out of the audience and strapped him down on this table thing that came up out of the stage."

"You're kidding me!" I can't imagine a normal guy not getting a hard on in those circumstances, with these lyrics, but I keep that thought to myself. Although, that thought also gives me an idea.

"No. My eyes were bugged out of my head. A lot of people were laughing, though."

We play a few games of gin rummy until the CD's over, and I ask her if I can burn it onto my computer. I get that accomplished, so I can implement my plan for Clay. As the CD is copying, we're getting set up with Pride & Prejudice. We watch the entire thing, and it's 1:30 by the time it's done. We crawl into bed, exhausted.

Chloe's definitely got the teenager-not-getting-up-in-the-morning thing going on, and I burn the CD I want to take to Clay's later. I'm actually glad I can do this in private, due to the nature of the CD. Which is all geared towards sex. It's actually been kind of a busy week for us, so there hasn't been much time for such things. But, we'll have all night tonight, with a little help from the CD.

I take Chloe to brunch, and we spend the day shopping. She's exhausted by the time we have to head to the airport, as am I, but I know I've got to keep my strength up for tonight, if it ends the way I want it to. I've never really been one to plan out little romantic scenarios, but Clay seems to bring it out in me. I love that I still have a crush on him.

I get to Clay's about 45 minutes before he's likely to arrive, and I put my CD in the player in his bedroom, light some candles, and run the bath. I forego the bubbles in favor of the "relaxing" variety bath salts. I grab a book and sink into the warm, fragrant water. As I sit and soak, I realize just how tired I am, and how relaxed I'm becoming. I hope I don't fall asleep before he gets home. Home. I think maybe we need to have that discussion I keep putting off about our living arrangements. I feel like half my stuff is here already.

About ten minutes later, I hear my name being called. Actually, Clay's a little earlier than I thought he'd be.

"I'm in the bath," I yell.

About a minute later, I feel a hand in my hair. I lean my head back and Clay kisses me. "Hey, you," he says.

"Mmmm, welcome home," is my response.

"May I join you?"

"Please do." I laugh. "It's your tub, why are you asking?"

"Because it's the polite thing to do," he says in a muffled voice, as he pulls his shirt over his head.

"Turn on the CD player, before you get in, will you? I burned a CD and put it in there."

"Oh, you did? What's on there?"

"You'll see."

I hear the strains of Barry White along with Clay's rich laughter. He's back in short order and slips into the tub, facing me. I crook my finger at him, and he moves over to kiss me.

"It's good to be home, I'm glad you were already here," he says. I put my arms around his neck and pull him close for another kiss. Just as things are heating up, Janet Jackson comes on.

The lyrics start to sink in, and Clay pulls back and looks at me. I smirk at him. He smiles and moves a hand up to my breast.

I reciprocate and run my hands all over his chest.

"I missed you," I whisper as I kiss down his neck.

I move a hand down to his cock. "I think I like this song," he says, pulling my chin up and my lips back to his.

"Sit on the edge of the tub, please," I tell him. He gives me a quick kiss and does as I ask. I take him in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip, before kissing and sucking my way down along the veins to his balls.

Clay strokes my face as I continue to work him with my mouth as one of my hands alternates stroking the base of his cock and his balls. He takes my other hand and starts kissing my fingers, before sucking on them.

"Later, I promise," he gasps, as I take him into my mouth as far as I can.

I continue licking and sucking Clay, and I get more and more pleased with myself the more undone he comes.

By this point, both of Clay's hands are gripping the tub, as he tries to control himself.

As the chorus starts for the last time, I caress the soft skin underneath his balls and pinch one of his nipples with my other hand. As I hear him say my name in warning, I take him in a little deeper and suck hard. He comes with a little cry, and I lick him clean. Before he's fully recovered, he slides back into the bath.

The music continues, and Clay kisses me. I'm starting to feel kind of pruney, and the water's getting cold, so I ask, "Could we take this to the bedroom?"

"Your wish is my command."

"Really? When did that happen?" I say jokingly as I stand. Clay gets out first and holds a towel for me. He dries me off, spending the bulk of his time drying my erogenous zones. I take the towel from him, eventually, and find that he's spent so long on me, that he's pretty much air-dried. I hold out my hand and lead him to the bed. He sits me down, then pushes me back, but doesn't let me pull my legs up onto the bed. He traces my collarbones, and then trails his fingers down, around my breasts, over my stomach, to my hips. When his hands make it to my thighs, he kneels on the floor. I smile, knowing what he's doing, and I'm so ready for a release right now, I know it won't take long. I move my knees apart.

Starting with my knee, Clay kisses his way up the inside of my thigh. As he reaches my sex, I sit up so I can watch him. He grins up at me as he slips a finger inside of me and homes straight in on my G-spot. I jump when he first hits it, but he knows right where it is. I'm actually glad right now he's not messing around and teasing me. I've been thinking about this all day. So I tell him.

"I've been thinking about this all day."

He kisses my clit, sucking on it briefly. "You have?" He's very pleased by this, and puts his head back down, returning to the task at hand.

"Yes," I gasp as he sucks on me again. "We didn't have a lot of time together last week."

I feel him nod his head in agreement, then he gets serious. He sucks my clit into his mouth and flicks it with his tongue as his one finger is joined by two others. I swear it only takes about thirty seconds before I'm having an incredibly intense climax.

Clay kisses his way back to my knee, before standing up. I'm leaning back on my elbows, and I motion for him to come to bed.

"One second; I'm going to let the water out of the tub." Oh yeah, I forgot about that. He's back shortly, and he turns the volume of the music a little lower. "Who sang that song?"

"Janet Jackson."

"Really?" He's tracing designs on my stomach. "Where did you hear it?"

"Chloe." His hand stops moving.

"You know, how do you deal with stuff like that with kids, anyway? She's 15, and now she's got this instruction manual, courtesy of Janet Jackson?"

"Well, yeah, it pays to keep up with modern music. But, as for dealing with the issues, speaking from my brief experience this weekend, I told her the truth. That sex is fantastic with someone you love, but not so much with someone you don't. Well, I wasn't quite that black and white about it. I'm not going to lie. I told her that it can be fun, but it's on a whole other level when you care about the person. If she were my own daughter, however, I don't know if I'd be so honest."

Clay props his head on his hand, but doesn't stop drawing his designs on my belly. "You're right. It's never been as good as it is with you," he whispers.

I lean over to kiss him. I realize this might not be a bad time to talk about the whole moving in together thing. "I know. I was wondering if I could ask you to think about something."

"Of course. What is it?" He can sense that I'm about to say something serious, but I can't quite think how to begin. After a few minutes of me being tongue tied, I can tell he's getting a little nervous, and he asks, "Sarah? What's going on?" He sits up.

"Nothing bad. At least, I don't think so. It's just... all this running around, living out of a suitcase most of the time."

"You haven't been traveling that much lately."

"I meant between my place and yours. I'm sorry. I just feel like a nomad, and I wanted you to think about how maybe we could rectify that."

"Moving in together?" he smiles at me, looking relieved. He lays back down, head on his hand.

"Yeah. I told you, I didn't think it was anything bad, but it's not like we've been together all that long. I was just nervous. I didn't want to freak you out."

"Sarah..." he starts laughing. "I can't imagine my life without you in it. I guess the question is where we live."

"I know my apartment's out of the question," I interrupt, to forestall him. "But I have to give notice and that good stuff." His place is much roomier than mine.

"I'd really like it if you moved in here. But if you want to look for someplace new, that's good too. DC or Virginia? Please don't make me commute from Maryland."

I laugh. "I don't particularly want to commute from Maryland, either. Here is good for now. I think maybe we can consider someplace new further down the line, maybe find our dream house. I got the impression this was not quite your dream house."

"No, I like it fine, but I hadn't planned on staying here permanently. And as for my dream house, I can't decide if it's in the Virginia countryside or on Capitol Hill. Just as long as you're there."

"Either of those places sounds nice, but, then, anyplace is nicer when you're in it," I say, pulling him on top of me for a kiss. We kiss and stroke each other until I guide him into me. It lasts forever and feels so good, and we climax almost at the same time, as we look into each other's eyes. It's kind of a cliché in some ways, but this is the way it's supposed to be.

It's not always perfect, of course, but today's been a very good day. I snuggle into Clay, who's already half asleep, and fall fast asleep myself, after I've mentally redecorated his spare bedroom.

A Worthwhile Workout
A Worthwhile Change of Address
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