Things had changed. 

She had changed. 

Somewhere since Brady returned, she'd stopped living and started looking around her shoulder for his presence. Tonight could have ended in tragedy. 

Did it?

She didn't know.

She wasn't sure exactly what that future held for her, for them, but thinking about it didn't hurt nearly as bad as it had even a week ago or a week before that. 

 

"Doc?" 

She yelped, spinning in her spot on the couch to find him standing right behind her. "I didn't mean to scare you," he said, pulling her to her feet. 

"Don't sneak up on me," she glared at him. And then she realized he was really there. 

Safe. 

 

The overwhelming, gut-wrenching relief racing through her bled away in an instant as he attempted to pull her into his arms. She pushed him away and glared at him, ignoring how her stomach bottomed out at the desolate look in his blue eyes. 

"Why did you leave me there?" she growled. 

He flinched but didn't say anything. 

He looked like hell, his expression guarded, his dark hair a wild mess, and his jaw clenched tight. Splatters of blood marred the dark button-down stretched over his chest. The bottoms of his pants and shoes were dirty, too, as if he'd spent the night prowling through a park. Part of her wanted to throw herself in his arms and hold on for dear life until that broken look on his face went away, but the other part—the overwhelmingly pissed-off part—refused to give in that easily. 

 

"How would you feel if I disappeared and you didn't hear from me for hours?" she demanded, glaring at him. 

"I was never in any danger, Marlena." 

"How was I supposed to know that? You didn't tell me anything. You demanded I go home and wait for you." 

"I had to talk to Roman."

"And that took you over eight hours?" 

"No, I went to help the kids. Brady was knocked unconscious." He raked a hand through his hair and grimaced. "Baby, it was a long evening. Can we not do this right now?" 

 

Was he serious? 

 

She gaped at him for a minute before shaking her head. The emotions feeding her outburst—anger, hurt, fear, worry—drained out of her as if poured from a strainer. If he didn't want to talk to her, she couldn't force him. 

It was that simple. 

"Fine, I'm glad Brady's alright," she mumbled. 

"Dammit, Marlena, wait." He reached out and grabbed her arm as she limped past him, fighting the urge to cry. 

"Let me go, John." Her traitorous voice shook. "Please." 

He tugged on her arm, trying to pull her back toward him. 

"You don't get to do this. Let me go." 

"Do what?" he asked. 

"You don't get to shut me out and get your way because you say please. You left me there alone. In the chaos, and now you want to walk back in like nothing happened. I'm not doing this with you right now, so let me go." 

 

She glared up at him, steeling herself against the flutter in her stomach and her heart when those eyes of his locked on her face. "I'm not trying to get my way, Marlena. I just want to hold you." 

"Yeah, well, what about what I want," she retorted, feeling like a spiteful bitch as soon as the words flew from her mouth. 

"You don't know what you're talking about."

 "Of course, I don't!" she cried, frustrated. "You won't talk to me. You're allowed to worry about me, but I'm not allowed to worry about you? You're allowed to rush off without telling me where you're going, but I'm here worried sick. Do you know how ridiculous that is? I'm not the one at risk of doing something rash and getting myself killed." He blinked. 

"You really think I'm going to do something stupid and get myself killed?" 

"I don't know, aren't you?" She challenged him. 

 

He didn't say anything, which said all she needed to know. And after everything she'd gone through waiting for him to reappear, she couldn't deal with this, too. "I'm going to bed, John," she said, shaking her head sadly. 

"Shit," he swore, reaching out to grab her again.

 

Before she could comprehend how she'd gotten there, he had her pressed to the wall, his mouth inches from hers. "I'm not trying to shut you out. And I'm damn sure not about to do something to put you at risk. I'm trying to do what's best for everyone," he growled. "You think I wanted to send you home alone tonight, baby? You think I wanted to climb to the top of the elevator to get the kids?" 

She didn't say anything. 

She couldn't. 

 

Part of her wanted to stay angry at him, but he was pressed so close, all she could feel was him; all she could think about was him. That he was here and safe, and the last few hours had been hell. That he owned her heart and soul, and that everything else—anger and worry and hurt feelings—were insignificant compared to that truth. 

 

"The entire time I was gone, I wanted to be with you. I wanted you naked beneath me, screaming my name. I wanted my arms around you while you slept. I wanted you blushing for me and your heart racing because of me. Instead, I was at the crime scene trying to figure out how to keep you and the kids safe from a bunch of twisted psychos who murdered an eighteen-year-old girl for no reason. I'm sorry I didn't call you. I'm sorry I worried you. But I'm not sorry for doing what I have to do to keep you safe. I'd fucking kill to protect you." His honesty hit her as hard as his earlier dismissals had. 

 

The angry glint in his eyes, the way his breath rasped across her face, and the rise and fall of his chest above hers shook loose something inside of her. The greedy part of her that wanted more from him. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Marlena," he continued quietly. "Whatever it takes. Getting you out of this safely is my motherfucking job, and if I have to sacrifice my life for yours, so be it. Making sure you don't pay for my mistakes is my priority. Not whether doing so hurt your feelings, though I'm fucking sorry it did." 

 

"You left without a word, John. I didn't know if you were okay, or where you were, or what you were doing. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again. You left me there, and made someone else tell me what was happening.And you couldn't even answer a phone call to tell me you were okay. Do you have any idea what that feels like?" A tear slipped down her cheek. 

"Please don't cry," he breathed, reaching out to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. He kept his hand on her face, cradling her cheek as he stared into her eyes, his expression no less fierce, but ten times more regretful. 

"I didn't mean to worry you." 

"Did you even plan to come here tonight, John?" 

He stared at her for a long, silent moment, and then sighed. "I couldn't stay away from you. I don't think I ever had a chance when it came to you. Christ, Doc." He rested his forehead against hers. "You make all this shit tolerable." 

"How do you think I feel? I agreed to do this for you. All I think about anymore is you. I get that you're going to do what you have to do, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to worry about you when you do it. You tell me you'd sacrifice your life for mine, and pretend I'm not supposed to care about that. You're important to me. Don't you get that?" He frowned before shaking his head, though whether in denial or confusion, she didn't know. 

 

"I can't breathe when I think about you getting hurt. I can't move." She shook her head, unsure how to explain how it felt to think about him being injured or killed. She understood loss. 

She lived with it every day. 

Nothing had ever mattered to her as much as he did. He was the sun. 

Vast. Bright. Vital. 

 

"Doc." 

"I need to know you're safe, John. Do you not understand that? I need you to be okay." So much that it scared her. Falling in love wasn't supposed to be like this, so fast and so much. But for her, falling for him was exactly like that. Fast, intense, as consuming as she'd always known it would be with him. And it was far, far too late for her to protect her heart now. It belonged to him, whether he wanted it or not.

 

"Marlena–" Whatever he meant to say got lost as she tangled her fingers in his button-down and pulled him into her, her mouth seeking his. She needed to make him understand. Maybe she didn't know how it felt to have that huge responsibility of keeping everyone safe all the time. But she knew what it felt like to feel helpless. She knew what it felt like to feel responsible. To hurt for people she didn't know. To want to help them. She felt all of those things. Not because she had to or because it was her job, but because it was his job. Because that was the burden, he carried. And he didn't carry it alone, not anymore. 

She loved him. 

When would he grasp that? 

"Oh, God," he groaned, his entire body shuddering like a breeze had gone through him. "Say it again, Doc." She hadn't even realized she'd said it out loud, but she gave him what he wanted. 

"I love you, John," she whispered against his lips, she wanted him to hear it, to feel it. She was his, and he could shut her out all he wanted, but it wouldn't stop her from caring.

 

"I've been falling for you since the very first night we met." His kiss this time was brutal in its intensity. 

Punishing. 

Healing. 

 

Whatever he'd seen tonight disappeared. His mouth moved over hers recklessly, freely, his tongue delving inside and making frenzied, deep sweeps before retreating and then plunging again. Over and over as he leaned into her, his hand at her nape, hers twisted in his shirt. 

 

"Again," he demanded when she gasped. 

"I love you," she said. 

He lifted her off her feet and stumbled backward. A rug scraped across the floor, kicked out of his way as he rained kisses across her face. The cool surface of the stairs bumped the backs of her knees, pulling a soft cry from her lips. She clawed at his shirt, trying to get it off so she could feel him. Not fabric, but him. Smooth, hard muscle under olive skin. Safety and strength and a release from every image the last hours had seen running through her mind in an awful dance. 

 

"Again," he demanded as he pressed her down onto the stairs and crawled up her body. The railing shuddered against the intensity of his movements. She hitched her leg around his hip, bending the other at the knee. She pulled him closer as he prowled up her body. Their mouths met. He demanded she says the words over and over between greedy, needy kisses and grasping desperate touches. 

She gave them to him each time, arching beneath him as he trailed open-mouthed kisses from her swollen lips to her neck and down onto her collarbone. His shirt finally came free in her hands, and he shucked it off, rising above her as he tore it from his body and let it go. She moaned at the sight of him hovering over her like a blue-eyed angel, the wings of his tattoo rippling as he breathed. The muscles in his chest and arms bulged as he held himself above her, carefully keeping his weight from her. He didn't give her long to look before he was back, stripping the dress's thin straps off her shoulders and down her arm.

 

His hands were all over her, sweeping across the valley of her stomach, brushing over the peaks of her breasts, pulling at the fabric separating him from the pebbled flesh begging for his touch. "Again," he demanded hoarsely as the clasp on her bra gave, and her breasts spilled free.

He inhaled at the sight. 

Froze for an instant as his eyes flashed to that predatory blue-black she knew so well, and then his breath was a warm, welcome rush across her skin as he pulled her nipple into his mouth.

"I love you." 

"Yes." His teeth clamped down on her, pulling a mindless sob from somewhere deep in her throat before his tongue glided over the aching, sensitive flesh. He moved on, paying the same attention to her other breast before making his way down her body. His mouth never left her skin as he moved above her. 

"Up," he commanded, pressing the word into her stomach. The vibrations from that one word rocketed through her. He helped lift her hips. Stripped her of the red dress and panties. She clawed at the stairs as he continued his wicked descent down her body, worshiping her. "You're so beautiful," he said before pushing her further up the staircase and draping her thighs over his shoulders. Pale ivory skin on perfect olive muscle. 

 

"Watch me, Marlena," he demanded. "Watch what I do to you." Her eyes rolled to meet his. "Oh, God," she moaned as his head disappeared between her legs and his mouth sent her shooting over the edge like a star catapulting through the sky. His tongue was everywhere, flicking at her clit, thrusting into her opening, swirling in lazy eights as she bucked, and arched, and thrashed against the painful surface. He held her hips still, his hands warm, gentle vises as he devoured her. 

Not stopping. 

Not slowing. 

Just taking until she came apart for him. 

 

"Say it." He leaned back on his knees between her spread thighs and pushed himself off of the stairs until he stood over her, his face wet from her juices and his eyes feral. 

He wiped his hand across his mouth as he stared down at her and reached for the button on his jeans. "Please say it, sweetheart." 

"I love you," she mouthed, her throat too dry to push the words out. He reached for the gun he carried tonight at his hip and slid it from the holster. The steel glinted in the light as he leaned over her to set it carefully on the stair above her. 

 

His zipper inched down, the barely perceptible hiss sounding like a shouted promise. She writhed atop the staircase, anticipation searing her inside and out. His pants and boxers hit the floor, his cock springing free. 

Thick. 

Hard. 

Jutting proudly from his body. 

She clamped her thighs together, trying to create friction. A whimper rolled from her lips. Her back arched off the surface. He reached for her as she begged for what she needed, his big hands seeming to move in slow motion. Need rolled through her in violent, painful waves. His fingers curled around her legs as he dragged her down the siats toward him. "Look at me, baby," he commanded as he stepped up to the stairs and wrapped her legs around his waist. His cock landed against her center, pressing at her opening but no farther. "I need to see you." 

She raked her eyes up his body to his face. Another gasp tore from her throat as his eyes met hers. They sucked her in, submerging her as the intense emotions she felt for him reflected back at her in his gaze. 

He thrust forward. 

They moaned as his cock filled her. 

Her head fell back. He felt so good like this, buried inside of her. "I've wanted to take you like this for days, Marlena," he muttered. She swallowed, trying to find her voice as he held still inside of her. She was dying for him to move. To unleash the frenzy she knew he held in check, waiting for her to give him permission. She wanted him to love her until she forgot her own name. Until he cried out his release, and the world righted itself. She lived for that moment. The one when he growled low in his throat, his hands clamped down on her, and then he roared his release.

 

"Then take me," she said, no longer content to let him lead as he had for weeks, but to lead with him. To equal him, support him. Blow his mind like he did hers. She circled her hips as best she could and met his gaze. Challenging him, daring him, commanding him this time. No holding back. 

Not tonight. 

"Now." 

 

A growl ripped from his throat as he heeded her demand and withdrew before slamming himself inside of her. She cried out as he filled her full, catapulting her toward that place between pleasure and pain, the one where both mingled, and nothing else felt as right, as good. 

Nothing. 

She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist and held on as best she could as he began to move. He was like a storm raging as he moved above her, fast and deep, and then deeper. She reached out for him, grabbed one of the hands holding her hips steady to his punishing thrusts, and laced her fingers through his. He moaned and slid his other hand across her hip to her lower stomach, splaying his fingers wide across her pubic bone. His eyes locked where their bodies met. Hers stayed on his face, watching the play of emotions as he watched himself moving within her. With each hard shift of his hips into hers, one emotion chased the other across her gorgeous face.

They consumed her. 

He consumed her, until nothing except him existed. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples, his chest. 

God, she was beautiful. 

Fierce, lethal, flawed, and perfect. 

"John," she groaned.

"Marlena," he said as his eyes fell closed. "I can feel myself inside you." He pressed his hand to her lower stomach to show her what he meant. "Right here."

 

A bolt of…something shot through her at that, liquefying her inside and out. The pleasure left behind was intense, a burn, a flash. Another star rocketed through the sky. "You feel so fucking good. Every single time." He groaned as she squeezed his fingers tighter, sensation spreading like fog rolling in, obscuring and dimming everything but the pleasure he gave her. He slammed himself deep inside of her, and then did it again. 

Faster, harder. 

"I can't get enough of you, baby." Every thrust of his hips drove him in deeper. 

"John, please," she moaned, a coil of heat stealing reality away from her. "Come for me." "Fuck." He untangled his hand from hers and grasped her hips, tilting her higher as her legs began to slip from their grip around his waist. 

She cried out, the coil getting smaller and smaller. 

"Say it," he groaned. "Please, tell me again." 

"I love you." A guttural moan broke from his lips as he lost control. He clamped his hands down tighter on her, his thrusts no longer a controlled glide but a frantic, desperate race. In and out. 

Over and over. 

"John, please!" She needed him to come with her, and she was close, so close. She couldn't fight it off. Release bore down on her like a freight train. 

"Fuck, baby, now," he growled as his fingers dug into her hips, and his cock jerked inside her as he began to come. She moaned as the world burst to white around her, for the second time tonight.