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Root looked smaller when she was naked, surprisingly frail and vulnerable. Shaw didn’t quite understand why that should be, but it was. She lay in bed, the sheet draped over one bent knee so that it fell lightly over her mound, and watched as Root crossed in front of the window. The loft was completely dark because the city outside provided enough light to see. The ambient glow shone across Root’s curves and made her look as if she’d been carved from marble, but there was still something... smaller about her. Root was pacing so deliberately that it almost looked like a dance; balancing on the ball of one foot before shifting her weight to the other and half-pirouetting around to face the bed again.
“Talking to your girlfriend?” Shaw asked. Her hands were under the pillow, her hair down so that it fell across her shoulders and pillow like blood spatter.
Root stopped her swaying and smiled at her. “Would you be jealous if I was?”
Shaw shifted her focus to the ceiling. “Hey, what do I care. We all had invisible friends. Most of us gave them up when we were five.”
“Oh, Sameen.” Root walked back to the bed and dropped to one knee. “You know you’re the only one for me. Give me your hand.”
“I’m comfortable.”
Root rolled her eyes and stretched out on her stomach. She extended her arms out and stretched like a cat returning to its favorite perch, and Shaw couldn’t help but admire the way her muscles moved under her skin. Despite her objection she rolled onto her side and put her hand on the curve of Root’s hip. Root turned her head and smiled, her hair covering half her face. Shaw pushed herself up on one elbow and watched Root’s face as she dug her fingernails into the soft flesh of Root’s ass and dragged them up. She applied just enough pressure to hurt, but not enough to break the skin.
The reaction washed through Root’s whole body: her limbs turned rigid and her breath caught in her throat. Her smile faded and she rolled her head back, gripping the pillow with both hands as she arched her back in response to Shaw’s rough touch. When she reached the shoulder blade she stopped and dragged the back of her hand down the stinging pink trail. At Root’s ass she flattened her hand and gave it a quick swat, which made Root yelp.
John and Harold didn’t know they did this. Shaw didn’t see any reason to enlighten them. They all had personal secrets and private lives. She didn’t know where Reese went at the end of the day and she didn’t particularly want to know. Just like he probably didn’t want to know that sometimes she let Root follow her home. The first time she’d locked the door in the lunatic’s face and spent the whole night sitting by the window watching Root watch her from across the street. There was no question that a lock even as complicated as Shaw’s wouldn’t keep Root out; she’d proven she was capable of getting past it. She never even tried. She just stood out there and watched with that damn ‘I know something you don’t know’ smile on her face.
The second night Shaw brought her inside. She was horny, and Root was available and seemed willing. She was unzipping Root’s pants when Root pushed her hair aside and leaned in for a kiss. Shaw avoided it neatly and tapped her fingers against Root’s cheek. It wasn’t a slap, not quite, but it was enough to make her retreat.
“No kissing. I don’t want that, understood?”
“Whatever you say, Sameen.” She held eye contact as she stepped out of her pants and took Shaw’s hand to guide to the bed.
That had been a year ago, not long after Root got out of Finch’s Faraday cage. She made Shaw come twice as a thank-you for believing in her. Then, after the Claypool disaster, Root reappeared to say goodbye before she went off on some other adventure. After that it started happening whenever they had a spare moment. It was a way to blow off steam and get a good workout at the same time.
Shaw remembered some of the good times as she climbed on top of Root. She slid her hands between Root and the bed, cupping her breasts and pulling her up against her. She kept one hand on Root’s breast while the other moved between her legs. She thought about the time Root had choked her to unconsciousness, waking to find the grinning maniac lying next to her and stroking her hair.
Root bowed her head and moved her hands up to the headboard as Shaw began to stroke her. There had been blood in the past, and bruises of course. She’d worn long sleeves to cover up the evidence of bondage on her wrists. Root had a high tolerance for pain and a proclivity for giving as good as she got. Shaw was thrilled to finally find someone who didn’t mind getting a little rough. The guys she’d been with in the past were all far too meek. Even when they did get sort of close to what she wanted they would always stop, pull back, and ask if it was all right. If she was okay. If it hurt.
Yes, it hurt. That was the damn point.
She reached under the pillow and hooked her finger around the leather strap of their newest toy. When she brought it toward Root’s face, Root obediently parted her lips and closed them around the red silicone ball. She waited as Root worked her jaw into a comfortable position before she brought the straps around to secure them at the base of Root’s skull. Then she pushed Root’s head down onto the pillow and guided her hands up to flatten the palms against the headboard.
They didn’t have safe words. They were what Root once called consensually non-consensual in that they both agreed the other could do whatever she wanted. The combination of freedom and trust meant that neither of them ever went too far. She sometimes wondered if either of them had a too far. She knew that if anyone was going to find that line, it was Root.
Shaw moved back and examined the woman lying motionless on her bed. So small, so vulnerable, but so full of power. Shocking power, really. She had seen this woman take out an entire group of militia nuts without breaking stride. She had seen the aftermath of Control’s torture, and she’d seen that Root had never been broken. That was someone she wanted watching her back. That was someone she trusted when the shit went down.
Shaw pushed Root’s legs apart and forced her onto her knees. “Head on the pillow,” Shaw growled, and Root complied. Shaw wet her lips and then dragged the tip of her tongue over Root’s pussy. Root’s legs went rigid and she grunted against her gag, but Shaw shut her up with a single swat to the inner thigh. The skin there was so pale, so tender, that the shape of her fingers showed up in vivid pink. She slapped again, then the other thigh, and while Root was wailing she pushed her tongue between Root’s folds.
There had been nights when, afterward, Root had loomed over Shaw in the darkness. Fingertips brushing a lip wet with Root’s juices before dipping inside. That was all right. Or letting Shaw suck and bite her thumb while Root was going down on her. That was fine. She was fine with so many oral aspects of fucking. She would suck a strap-on or, in the heat of the moment, she would let Root bite her lip. A kiss while fucking was different than one delivered afterward, when the heat died down and there was nothing left but sweat. She would always put her finger over Root’s lips in those moments and cringe away.
“No kissing.”
Root groaned against her gag, so Shaw focused her assault on her clit. She knew where the edge was and she enjoyed balancing on it. Root was so composed and in control that it was erotic just watching her fight to maintain. The longer she danced on that line, the more intense her orgasm was. Contrary to apparent popular believe, there was always a winner in sex.
When Root came, her cry of release was loud even with the gag in place. She collapsed to the bed, and Shaw sat up and pulled Root onto her lap. Root turned her head and made a whining sound.
“I don’t know,” Shaw said as she stroked Root’s trembling belly. “I kind of like you like that.”
Root’s gaze didn’t waver; she was prepared to keep the gag in place as long as Shaw wanted her to. But Shaw was feeling sympathetic, and there was no way Root could take her turn if her mouth was out of commission. So she undid the straps and gently eased the ball free. Root gagged and twisted her head to keep from drooling. She massaged her jaw as Shaw tossed the gag aside. Root reached between her legs and found Shaw’s mound. Shaw closed her eyes and put her hands on Root’s hips.
“Do you want to fuck me, Sameen?”
“Should’ve kept the damn gag in.”
Root pushed two fingers into Shaw and rocked herself forward, grinding against her own forearm as she curled and twisted had hand against Shaw’s sex. She turned her head and leaned toward Shaw.
“What are you doing, Root.”
“I’m kissing you, sweetie.”
“You know the rule.”
“The rule is not after we’ve come. You haven’t come yet.”
Shaw grabbed a handful of Root’s hair and turned her head away. She kissed Root’s neck, and Root grunted her frustration.
“Make me come, Root.”
“Let me kiss you, Sam.”
Shaw bit Root’s ear. She dug her hands into Root’s hips to guide her, baring her teeth as she pushed herself down against Root’s hand. Root cried out sharply and Shaw pulled her back. Root’s weight was entirely on her and, when she came, she half-threw and half-dropped Root down onto the mattress. She fell on top of her and caught her breath with her face buried in Root’s hair. She rolled off to the side with one hand protectively covering her pussy until her sensitivity returned to normal.
“One of these days I’m going to get my kiss, Sameen.”
“Don’t count on it, Root.” She watched as Root brought her hand up and sucked her juices from the long, slender fingers. God, that hand... just the sight of it could turn her on now. She’d have to be careful about that. She closed her eyes and turned away, hoping she would fall asleep so Root could disappear again.
She didn’t kiss. Not on the first date, not on any date. A kiss was a vow she didn’t intent to make, a promise she couldn’t keep, and a contract she was sure to break. She cared for Root, sure. No more than she cared for Reese or Finch. Or even Bear, really. They were her partners. If one of them fell, it meant she had failed to do her job. Root reached over and touched her hip and Shaw flinched.
“Sameen...?”
“I was just about to fall asleep.”
“Sorry.” She lifted her hand.
“Well, you might as well leave it now.” The hand returned, but this time it slid further onto Shaw’s stomach as Root rolled onto her side. They were facing the same direction without spooning, the few inches between their bodies preventing it. Shaw moved her hand to cover Root’s.
“Goodnight, Sameen.”
Shaw didn’t say anything. She could share her bed with Root, she could share an orgasm, because those things could be simple and faked. Even she found it hard to fake a kiss, though. If she was going to kiss someone outside the heat of the moment, she wanted it to matter. And there might come a time when she was willing to do that. A simple romantic kiss with no promise of anything behind it. Not now. Probably not even soon.
But someday.
Maybe.