Four Months Ago – Paris, France – 36 hours left on the trip
As I step onto the balcony, Paris’s crisp air greets me. The view is spectacular, but it still pales compared to the beautiful woman in my bed. Thirty-six hours. In thirty-six hours, our bubble will burst, and our lives will take different paths. No matter how many times we say that nothing will change, I know that inevitably it will. Things will never be the same. To make things worse, I’ve gotten used to waking up in her arms.
It all started when Jane surprised me and joined me in Paris. I was ecstatic when she surprised me. It was too late to arrange accommodations for her. But what was the big deal, right? It’s a king-size bed, and it’s not like Jane and I haven’t shared a bed before. What I hadn’t counted on was Jane suddenly becoming a smuggler.
The third day in Paris went great. We did some sightseeing, and I managed to drag Jane into a few boutiques. I even was able to sneak in a few pieces for Jane. I refused to let her walk around in Paris in sweatpants. She rolled her eyes but didn’t put up much of a fight. We fell asleep happy and excited about what I had planned for the next day.
At 4 a.m., a brush of lips on my neck wakes me. Instinctively, I leaned into the touch because it felt good. It took a minute for my sleep-muddled mind to realize that it was Jane. I looked down and saw Jane’s arms wrapped around me. I froze, pretended to be asleep, and waited. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew how it felt being held by her. It felt wonderful. So, I decided to gently put my hand over hers and go back to sleep. I figured that if there were a problem, I’d know first thing in the morning.
To my surprise, nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. In my opinion, Jane was acting a little shy during breakfast, but on the other hand, I thought I might be seeing things that weren’t there. Once we got on with our day, everything felt completely normal. We had a fantastic time, and we both seemed to enjoy having each other’s undivided attention.
Now, I can’t help but think that maybe it would have been better if I had stopped it from the very beginning. I don’t even know if Jane is aware of it because she’s managed to wake up before me for the entire trip. I just don’t know, and at the moment, I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I knew I was going to miss her terribly, but now things are even worse. I never imagined that I was going to miss having her in MY bed every night. There’s no denying that I will.
I’ve been in love with this woman for years. The love, need, and longing for her are indescribable. But now, Jane Rizzoli unknowingly made my feelings for her to become even more potent than they were before. And I thought they were pretty intense, but they pale in comparison to how I feel now. I know what it feels like to sleep in her strong arms. I know what her lips feel like on my skin. Wrapped in her arms, I feel so loved, cherished, protected. God, if just sleeping in her arms makes me feel like this, I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to kiss her, to have her pressed up against me naked. The thought alone makes me moan softly, and a second later, I shake my head, desperately trying to erase the thought from my mind.
You have to get a grip, Maura. There’s zero chance of anything more happening between Jane and you. Jane is your best friend and nothing more. You must continue to suppress your romantic feelings for her. She’s never going to reciprocate, and you’re running the risk of losing her. Not only is that completely unacceptable, but it would shatter you.
Jane is the most amazing person you’ve ever met. She’s given you friends, a family, and true friendship. She’s the only person who’s never been unkind to you because you can be socially awkward. And Jane takes the time to explain anything you don’t understand. For once in your life, you have someone that will defend you when people are cruel for no reason. Your life would be lonely and empty if she didn’t walk into your life.
Detective Jane Rizzoli is leaving you in less than a week to take her dream job. And it’s beyond selfish for you to try to stand in her way. Jane is moving to Virginia, and you’re going to have to learn how to function without her. Whether you like it or not. You have to accept it and not make things worse.
From out of nowhere, I hear, “Stunning,” and I jump out of my skin. With my heart racing, I turn and say, “Jesus, Jane, you scared me.”
Jane leans against the door, crosses her arms, and smiles, “Sorry, but the view is stunning.”
“The Eiffel Tower is beautiful.”
Jane’s smile gets bigger as she says, “I wasn’t talking about the tower, Maura.”
“Oh,” is all I manage to say. It feels like Jane just short-circuited my brain. The way she’s looking at me makes my heart go into my throat, I can feel the blush burning my cheeks, and she’s making my blood run hot. Very hot.
With a twinkle in her eyes, she says, “You’re adorable.”
Okay, now I think Jane is trying to short circuit my brain. My mouth is dry, and I can’t form sentences. Only Jane Rizzoli can make me speechless with little effort. When I again don’t respond, I see the worry begin to show on her features. She softly asks again, “Maura, what’s wrong?”
If there ever were a moment when I wished I could lie, this is it. I already know if I tell Jane that’s nothing wrong, she’s going to know I’m lying because she can read me like nobody else, and my hives will only confirm it for her. So, I do what I always do and start spewing facts. “Did you know they built the tower as an entrance arch for the 1889 World’s Fair? France hosted the fair to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the French Revolution.”
She raises an eyebrow and says, “No, I didn’t know that.”
Her answer encourages me to continue. Maybe I can pull this off. “The tower was named after the firm that built it.”
“Maura,” Jane begins, but I cut her off as I continue, “Gustave Eiffel, the owner, rejected the initial design. They didn’t approve the final design till 1884, and they didn’t finish it till March of 1889.”
Before I can say anything else, she asks again, “What’s wrong? Was I snoring?”
It’s obvious Jane isn’t happy with my response. She slowly walks over to me, and when she’s in front of me, she softly says, “Maura, as much as I love your Google Mouth, right now, you’re only using it to avoid answering my question. Please tell me what’s wrong? Why aren’t you in bed?”
I take a deep, cleansing breath and answer, “Nothing is wrong. I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to bed, and I’ll join you shortly.”
I’m pretty proud that I was able to string a few sentences together. The frown on Jane’s face intensifies, which tells me she’s still not satisfied with my reply. And knowing Jane as well as I do, I’m positive she’s not going to give it up until I give her a satisfactory answer. She’s even more stubborn than me. Unfortunately for me, I looked down and didn’t meet her eyes. I couldn’t help myself. I know it’s scientifically impossible for my eyes to tell her precisely what’s on my mind, but they make me feel vulnerable and guilty. I know if I look, I’m only going to see worry and compassion in hers.
She gently cups my face, and as she tilts my face up, she urgently pleads, “Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart. Did I do something? Please tell me.”
I close my eyes again in disgust with myself. Jane’s already blaming herself for something she didn’t do. I try again, “Jane, nothing is wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Hives, Maura, hives. Tell me,” Jane continues to plead as she caresses my cheeks with her calloused thumbs. God, it feels so good. I can’t help but lean into her touch.
I honestly answer, “I’m sad that our adventure is coming to an end. And I still don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
Not the whole truth but most of it, but I’m hoping it’s enough.
“Maura baby, I’m only a phone call away, and I’m going to visit often. And you can come to see me whenever you want,” Jane says as her thumbs continue to caress my face.
The endearment catches me entirely off guard. I finally look her in the eye and say, “You called me baby.”
As she begins to blush, she stammers, “I…it…just,” I interrupt and say, “I liked it.”
Jane quickly recovers and smiles. She leans in and kisses my forehead. The feel of her lips on my skin sends shivers down my spine. Glass, Jane, touches me like I’m glass, and she’s afraid to break me. She makes me feel so special. To my surprise, I feel her nuzzling my cheek. Every so often, I feel soft kisses on my skin. Angel kisses. They are wreaking havoc on me.
She moves her right hand to my hip and begins to kiss my jawline. Fuck, she’s setting me on fire. I’ve never been this aroused. I’m nearing my limit.
I hear her murmur, “Your skin so much softer than I imagined.”
I’m done. This might be the worst mistake of my life, but at THIS moment, I don’t care about the consequences. My arms wrap around her neck, and I finally do what I’ve been dreaming of for years. I sink my fingers in her hair and pull her to my lips as I beg, “Please kiss me.”
Jane moans and presses her lips against mine, and I’m in heaven.
We share chaste kisses, for I don’t know how long until I can’t take it anymore. I need to taste her, and I deepen the kiss. She responds immediately and groans in delight. God, she tastes better than I ever imagined. Just kissing her is making me so wet.
Time passes by, but I have no idea how much. When I feel her begin to pull away from me, I groan in protest. I murmur against her lips, “No, no, don’t stop.”
“Fuck Maura,” Jane moans.
I go on my tiptoes and begin to kiss her jawline. I murmur, “I love your kisses, Detective. They’re incredible. You could make me do anything you want if you promised a kiss in return.”
I feel a shiver run down her body. Jane buries her face in my neck, and as she begins to explore, she whispers, “You’re going to regret telling me that, baby.”
“I don’t care,” I moan as I kiss my way to her ear. As I nibble on her earlobe, and I softly say, “You feel so good.”
“Bed now,” Jane growls as she lifts me off my feet and makes her way through the Penthouse’s bedroom.
“God, yes,” I whimper as I begin to place open mouth kisses down her neck. My body is in overdrive. I feel so fucking hot and so wet, and I want us out of our clothes NOW.
When she sets me on my feet in front of our bed, she cups my face and softly asks, “Maura, what are we doing? I’m moving away in a few days.”
My God, it feels like somebody just dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over my head. That’s what Jane’s words have made me feel. I stop immediately and try to pull away, but she won’t let me. Jane pleads, “Maura, please don’t pull away from me. Please.”
I fight my tears and roughly say, “Jane, it’s okay. We can stop. I’m sorry.”
“Maura, baby, it’s not that I want to stop. God, because I don’t. I want you with every fiber in my being, but I’m leaving. I was a coward, and now it’s too late,” Jane sadly says.
I can see regret in her eyes; it’s etched on her face. Is this happening? Could Jane want me as I want her? I ask in disbelief, “You don’t want to stop?”
She answers, “No, I don’t want to stop, but Maura, this isn’t a simple one-night stand. You’re my best friend. You’re the one person on the planet that lets me be me. You love me the way I am. And I’m…I’m…I…”
As I see her struggle with her words, I put a finger on her lips to silence her and say, “What if I promised to make absolutely no demands of any kind. We have one night. Once we step foot in Boston, everything goes back to what it was before. BFF’s. Nothing more.”
Jane’s jaw has gone slack, and she’s shaking her head no. I take that as a bad sign, I try to pull away again, and again she stops me. She won’t let go. I begin to plead, “Jane, please let me go. I’m sorry I started this. We only have a few hours left. Let’s enjoy the time we have left.”
I can see Jane is in turmoil. I can see it on her face. Her eyes are pleading with me to fix the mess I’ve made. My God, what have I done? So, I attempt to fix it when I say, “Jane, we’re okay. You’re still my very favorite person on the planet. You are still my best friend. Let’s get some rest, okay?”
No response. Jane’s silence is killing me. I cup her face, and as I get lost in very dark eyes, I plead, “Jane, please answer me. Say something.”
Detective Jane Rizzoli has always been a woman of action and not words. And tonight, she proves it in spades.
My body responds to her before my brain. She’s kissing me with such passion; the only thing I can do is kiss her back. For once in my life, my heart will lead instead of my brain and damn the consequences.
When we break for air, she simply moves her kisses down my neck and begins to tug on my silk robe. I drop my arms long enough for her to pull it off and start to tug on her shirt. But she doesn’t take the hint. As she drags my nightgowns shoulder straps down, she growls, “Off Maura. Now.”
I didn’t think I could get wetter than I already was, but I am. Jane’s voice is such a turn-on. Husky, raspy, and forceful. I groan and say, “Jane, lose your shirt if you want to continue to disrobe me.”
That got her attention. She only pulled away long enough to pull her shirt off, and I’m left speechless. God, she’s absolutely gorgeous. Beautiful olive skin, long sinewy muscles, washboard stomach, and firm breasts with lovely mocha-colored nipples. I put my hands high on her chest and begin to touch. I can feel her eyes on me. Watching every movement and as I continue to explore, I say, “Absolutely gorgeous, Jane. I can’t wait to kiss every inch. Every blemish, mole, scar, everything. I want to burn the image into my mind because I know I’ll never see anything more beautiful than you are at this moment.”
“Fuck, I want you naked, and I want it now,” Jane growls as she tugs on my nightgown hard. I relent long enough for her to take it off. She gives it one last tug, and I feel it slide down my body and pool at my feet. I hear a loud inhale of air followed by her saying, “If I’d known you were naked under that thing, I would have ripped off of you a long time ago.”
I wrap my arms around her neck, and when I finally press our bodies, we both moan in pleasure. Her hands caress my back and begin to go down as she kisses every piece of skin she can reach. When I feel a kiss behind my ear, I hear her groan, “You’re just perfect. So, fucking beautiful, Maura.”
As I kiss the scar that Hoyt gave her on her neck, I murmur, “If I’d known that telling you that I was naked underneath the nightgown would give me this result, I’d told you a long time ago. Or better yet, I would have climbed into your bed naked, Jane. Why did you think I told you I slept in the nude? I was trying to give you a hint, Detective.”
“Jesus, why weren’t you direct? Beating around the bush is not you.”
“And risk our friendship? Never. I thought I’d give you hints hoping that if you were interested in me in that way, you could act. Since you didn’t, I thought that it was a lost cause,” I explain.
“So, you told me you slept naked in the hope I would join you?”
“I’ve wanted to make love to you for a very long time. And I was trying to tempt you into my bed,” I answer honestly.
“Well, you almost got what you wanted. I was barely able to stop myself from crawling into your bed. Fuck, were you trying to kill me?”
“Not at all. I just desperately wanted you. But enough about the past. At the moment, I’m trying to get you naked, Detective. But you have to choose. Talk or making love. One or the other. Not both.” I smirk.
Jane pushes me onto the bed, and I grin. My Detective certainly made up her mind quickly. I begin to move up the bed. When she begins to climb on, I order, “Naked Detective. Lose your clothes.”
Jane Rizzoli usually doesn’t take orders well, and it pleases me tremendously that she’s taking mine without batting an eye. It’s such a stroke to my ego. Not everybody can ever do what I just did. Jane drops her underwear and pants down in one go and climbs into bed. The view gets better and better. Long, lean legs, a strip of black curls, and the unique smell of Jane engulf me. I feel her body slide up mine, and it feels incredible. Her nipples are hard like mine, and her skin feels warm and smooth.
As soon as her forearms are at either side of my head, I wrap my arms around her waist and try to pull her down on top of me. I try again and nothing. Now I’m getting desperate. I begin to beg, “Jane, please, I need you. Please love, I need to feel your skin against mine.”
I look up and see her bite her lip as she mumbles, “I’ve never done this before. What if I’m no good?”
I wrap my arms around her neck and crash our mouths together. I take the lead and try to overwhelm her to stop her from overthinking things and just follow her instincts. Jane moans loudly when my tongue begins to explore her mouth. I feel her body tremble, she’s getting tired of holding her weight above me, and in less of a minute, I finally get what I want.
Jane breaks the kiss and groans, “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“God, you feel better,” I moan as I begin to place open mouth kisses everywhere I can reach.
The tone is what makes me stop and look up. It tells me that Jane's nervous and unsure of herself. It's a tone I've very, very seldom heard. I softly ask, "What's wrong, love?"
“What if I can’t please you? I mean, God, I’ve fantasied about this for years. And now that I’m finally here, I’m terrified I’m going to mess everything up,” Jane said as she nervously bites her lip.
“Sweetheart, I do not doubt that you can please me. We’ll discuss your fantasies later. But Jane, you’ve barely touched me, and I feel like I’m on fire. I’ve never been this wet in my life,” I whisper as I kiss Jane’s jaw. I smile as she leans into my kisses.
"Let me show you," I murmur as I hook my leg over her hip, and her thigh slide in between my legs. I grind into the hard muscle and gasp, "Feel how wet I'm for you, love. This is what you do to me, Jane."
“Shit, you’re so wet,” Jane growls as she grinds her thigh into my clit.
“Only you make me this wet. You have no idea how many panties you’ve ruined,” I moan.
I see a smirk on her face, and it makes me smile. Alpha Jane is back. She maneuvers herself so that she’s between my legs, and I wrap my legs around her waist tight. I grind my aching pussy into her flat stomach, and all I can do is moan.
I feel her left hand move in between our bodies. I feel one finger slip inside and whisper, “Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers, or do you want me to rub your clit?”
“Fingers, baby fuck me with your fingers,” I order desperately.
Jane slips two long fingers and begins moving in and out slowly. Her fingers are perfect, nice, and long. I don’t even care that she’s probably going to leave a hickey on my neck. God, she’s starting to hook them inside of me and finding that special spot. I begin to plead, “Go faster, love. Harder.”
“Mmmm, you feel so good on my fingers, baby. So tight, warm, and wet.”
“Don’t stop. I’m so close. Rub my clit with your thumb, love,” I beg.
“Only if you let me kiss my way down your body. Stopping at your breasts so that I can suck on your nipples and then move down until I can finally taste you, baby,” Jane says.
I could barely scream her name when my pussy clenched around her fingers and sprayed cum all over her fingers. I felt her carefully remove her fingers and saw her lick her fingers clean. I’ve never seen anything more erotic in my life.
“That’s the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” I pant. A film of sweat covers my body, and my heart is going nonstop. Jane’s smile is priceless. As my eyes start to close, I feel her whisper in my ear, “Not yet, Dr. Isles. I’m not done with you yet.”
“Fuck,” I groan as I sink my hands into dark curls. Jane’s kisses are moving down my body, kissing every inch of skin she can reach. When she gets to my breasts, she starts to flick my right nipple with her tongue, and it becomes hard in an instant. Jane covers my other nipple with her hand, and the friction is just incredible.
For a woman who was afraid of not knowing what to do, she’s killing it. As I pull her closer to my breast, I groan, “Lick it, suck it, please, baby.”
“I love your tits, I always have,” Jane mumbles as she begins to lick it.
“Fuck, I know. Why do you think I wore all those low-cut dresses, blouses? I wore them for you. I dressed for you. I love feeling your eyes on me,” I moan as she began to suck it. Every time she sucked it, I could feel it in my clit. My hips start to rise. I couldn’t stop it.
“Do you know how fucking frustrated you made me, woman?” Jane growls unhappily.
“You had it easy. All you had to do was exist to make me ruin my panties,” I growled impatiently. Jane’s tongue is magic, and I need it to move down, so I say, “Talk or making love, Jane. Not both.”
“We’re definitely talking later, Maura,” Jane orders as she switches and begins to suck my other nipple. She flicks her tongue and then begins to suck it slowly.
“That feels so good, baby,” I groan. God, I need her hand on my pussy. I need her to rub my clit.
I take one of her hands to pull it down as I plead, “Rub my clit, please.”
“Is that going to make you cum for me, baby?”
“Fuck, yes,” I groan.
“I love it when you cuss,” Jane moaned as she begins to rub tight circles on my clit.
“Oh God, it feels so good!”
“Cum for me, Maura,” Jane harshly orders.
“Jane!!!” My body arched off the bed, and fire enveloped my entire body. I’ve never felt anything like it. God, this woman is a Sex Goddess.
Jane doesn’t give me much time to recover. I can feel her moving down my body. Kissing, licking, biting skin as she goes. All I can do is moan her name. This woman is incredible in bed.
When I feel a kiss on top of my pussy, my legs spread wide. Extremely dark eyes meet mine, and Jane orders, “You’re going to look me in the eye, or I’m going to stop. Do you understand?”
I’m barely able to nod as she begins. After so many years of fantasizing about dark curls in between my legs, this feels like a dream. If this a dream, I never want to wake up.
Jane takes a long lick of my slit, and I wrap my hand behind her head to pull her closer. She starts licking my clit, batting it with her tongue, sinking it inside as I’m entirely helpless. All I can do is moan, “So good, Jane. So, fucking good.”
“I love how you taste so fucking good,” Jane groans into my flesh.
“Love, make me cum. Please,” I beg.
“Tell me what you want, baby.”
“I want you to suck my clit,” I growl desperately. I need to come, and I need to come now.
“Like this?” Jane moans as I feel her wrap her lips around it. I start grinding my pussy into that wonderful mouth and moan, “Fuck yes, just like that.”
I don’t last long. The orgasm crashes into me with such force. My entire body is shaking, tingling, and all I can do is scream and eventually moan her name.
Jane cleans me up and begins to move up my body. I feel a kiss on my navel, on all of my ribs, on my breasts, in between my breasts, and when I feel them on my jaw, I hear her whisper, “We’re going to spend the rest of the time we have in bed. Got it?”
“God, yes, love.”
As her kisses reach my ear, she growls, “Mine.”
That sent a shiver down my spine, and I admitted what I’ve known for years, “Yours.”
Present Day – Boston Mass. – Abandoned House – Monday at 10 p.m.
“It’s time to wake up, Dr. Isles,” My unknown captor whispers in my ear.
I groan in protest and try to fall asleep again. I love the dream I’ve been having since the bastard kidnapped me. The last hours in Paris. The last hours I had Jane. God, what I wouldn’t do go back and relive those glorious hours.
At the moment, I’m being held captive by a complete sociopath. He covered my eyes from the moment my ordeal began, and my entire body hurts. He beats me often. I’m sure I have a concussion and a few broken ribs. I know I’m probably in an abandoned house. All I can smell is urine and feces. I’m positive the mattress I’m on is also filthy. I don’t know what the hell he wants. I’ve offered him money, and he only laughed. All he ever does is beat me and force me to eat and drink water barely. I’m almost positive I’m not going to make it out alive. And if that’s the case, I’d rather spend the time I have left dreaming of her. My Detective. My Jane.
“Now, Dr. Isles. I got to give you at least water. I wouldn’t want you to die before time,” My captor whispers.
I’m sick of the gravelly voice. It’s obvious he’s trying to disguise his voice. In disgust, I ask, “Why don’t you talk like a normal human being?”
“Because I don’t want you to be able to identify me by my voice. Didn’t you know that it’s extremely difficult to identify someone’s voice by the way they whisper?”
“Yes, I know that. What do you want? When is this going to end?”
“Soon, an acquaintance has informed me she boarded a flight for Boston two hours ago. She should be landing soon,” My captor says.
“Why Detective Jane Rizzoli. Who else?”
“I don’t understand,” I state honestly.
“You’re the bait. I knew if I took you, the Rizzoli bitch would come running, and she has. Now that she’s back in Boston, I’m going to do what my hero failed to do,” My captor cheerfully explains.
“Oh my God,” My God, I know what this is about, another apprentice. Hoyt.
“I’m going to help tear Jane Rizzoli apart, outsmart her, torture her, hurt her, rape her to the point she’s begging for me to kill her. But before I do, I’m going to rape and kill you in front of her first.”
“She’s going to find you!” I yell. Another sociopath is after Jane again. What am I going to do? I need to survive so that I can warn her. Protect her.
"When we're ready. But don't worry Dr. Isles, it's not time to kill you yet. I'm going to release you to her, and when we have everything ready, I'm going to kidnap you again from right under her nose. That will be more salt into her wound. And in time, she'll surrender herself to save you. And that's when we're going to finish what our hero couldn't finally, we are going to kill Jane Rizzoli," Hoyt's apprentice explains.
“You better kill me now because I’m going to warn her. I’m going to protect her. I won’t let you hurt her,” I angrily replied. I despise this animal. If I could kill this sociopath, I would.
The bastard only laughs and shoves a bottle of water towards my hands. When I empty it, I hear a loud noise. Someone is pounding on the door, which makes him punch me in the face, and then everything goes black.