Bob Schneider started us off, Bob Schneider closes us out. More long, self-indulgent quoting to kick off our last hurrah.

I went back to expand on this and expanded on it a bit more than I meant to. Woops. ALSO! To clarify: there is no surveillance in the bedroom. There was only audio and Trudy got it cut off. I went and re-wrote that a little bit in the last chapter to make it clearer. :)

well if i spell it out, if i get it out
will you hear me when i tell you about
what i have to say before it gets too late
it's not as easy as they said it'd be
but there's something right about you and me
something right about you and me...

we're like romeo and juliet
we're like forty dogs, cigarettes
we're like good times that haven't happened yet, but will
i can tell you where we're gonna be
when the whole world falls into the sea
we'll be livin' ever after happily
Bob Schneider, "40 Dogs (Like Romeo and Juliet)"

He brushed the hair back from her face and her eyes lifted to meet his. She didn't know what she loved more: the feel of his hard cock as it slid in and out of her mouth; the hot ache of desire in his eyes; or the taste of him, salt and musk and a sweet undertone that was probably mostly just her imagination. She smiled around him and his head fell back as he groaned. She tapped his thigh and he looked at her again.

She held his balls in one hand, stroking and gently squeezing and tugging just a little. He squirmed beneath her and dug his teeth into his lip to bite down a yelp. She licked along the length of his shaft, tracing the veins with her tongue, and then lower.

She closed her eyes a moment just to savor the noises he made: soft sighs and deep groans and that one little whimper that let her know she was doing everything right, and in a way that made him nuts. She slid two fingers into her mouth to get them nice and wet, and then pressed them against his perineum.

"Oh fuck!" he moaned. "Fuck, Livvie, goddamn!"

Olivia smirked and massaged him there, the pressure firm and steady, while her other hand stroked up and down his slippery cock. She sucked first one of his balls into her mouth, and then the other, rolling each one between her lips and lathing it with her tongue. She watched in fascination as his abs rippled and danced with every touch of her mouth on his heated skin.

She licked her way back up to the head and trailed her tongue through the dribble of pre-come that formed there. "Tell me something, baby," she murmured, her lips brushing his cock as she spoke.

"Anything," he said, and she could tell from his voice that she could ask literally anything right now and he'd give it to her.

"Mmmm," she moaned and sucked the head back into her mouth. Her hand worked the shaft as she lavished attention on the sensitive glans: swirled her tongue around it and let it pop in and out between her swollen, reddened lips. Sucked just hard enough to make him beg for more, and then let up again.

"Sorry, love," she said. "Got distracted. You're so goddamn sexy when I've got your dick in my mouth and you're all frustrated and needy."

He managed a rasping chuckle. "Evil, Gable."

"Guilty as charged."

He rubbed a thumb across her puffy lips and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "You look so good when you've been suckin' my cock, baby."

"I'll look even better when you come in my mouth."

He groaned and she lapped up another salty ooze of pre-come. "Did she do this for you, Juicy? That girl you picked up? Did she suck your big hard dick and make you squirm and beg?"

His head lolled against the pillows in a negative. "Fuck no, Livvie. Just you!"

"That's right," she said. She squeezed him, her strong fingers tight, and wiggled the tip of her tongue into his slit. "Because who does this cock belong to, sweetheart?"

He let out a strangled moan and fisted his hands in the sheets. "You, Livvie. Belongs—fuck oh Jesus—to you."

She sucked him in until he hit the back of her throat, then she adjusted the angle a little and took him deeper. Her throat closed around him and she swallowed.

"Holy fuck goddamn, baby, oh God don't ever stop," he said through gritted teeth.

She bobbed her head up and down, taking him deep each time, her throat closing around the head and her tongue moving against him. She palmed his balls, massaging and squeezing, and let her fingers rub against his perineum. She felt them tighten in her hand and eased up a little.

Her lips stayed firm around him as she sucked him in and out, but her mouth was loose and hot, a slick velvety vise of almost-not-quite.

"Please, Livvie. Jesus fuck I can't—please, I need to come so fucking bad!" She'd been teasing and toying with him for almost an hour, and the need for release was a deep, burning ache in his balls. She knew exactly what she was doing, and fifteen months apart hadn't dulled her ability to take him right to the edge and then back off just before he got what he wanted.

She ran her nails down the inside of his thighs just to watch the muscles quiver. Her head tilted as she considered him: huge eyes, slack jaw, body rigid from head to toe, cock iron-hard and throbbing. Her cherry mouth curved and she hitched a shoulder.

"Yeah, okay," she said.

He blew out a long, ragged breath as her lips closed around him and she sucked him in earnest. The hand around his shaft moved in time to her mouth. She swirled the underside of her tongue over the tip before she slid her saliva-slicked lips around him again.

She didn't let up this time: her cheeks hollowed and her tongue worked and she massaged his perineum with her thumb. The heat and pressure mounted in his balls as his moans and gasps grew more and more desperate.

"Fuck oh God that's it yeah like that oh God, baby, fuck yes yes, fuck!"

With the last, almost-shouted obscenity, she felt his cock jerk and hot come flooded her mouth. She swallowed eagerly as he babbled incoherent nonsense that dissolved into wordless grunts and whimpers of pleasure. He spasmed against her tongue again and again, but finally he fell back onto the bed and let out a long, breathless groan.

She flicked her tongue against him one more time and giggled as he twitched.

"You're killin' me, babe," he rasped.

She crawled up to lie beside him and pressed her lips to his shoulder. "You know you love it."

He nodded wordlessly and rolled to face her. Tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her chapped, swollen mouth until she moaned against him.

"So wait," she said when the kiss broke, her voice breathless and high, "you fucked someone else, but you haven't had your dick sucked in fifteen months?"

He gave a sheepish grin. "Not since that day at the ice cream shop."

"I admire your fortitude, Ortiz."

"I admire your mouth," he murmured as he kissed her again, his tongue swirling and tangling with hers, and the taste of his come was a musky undertone to her own unique flavor. When he pulled away his mouth moved in a little frown. He traced a finger along the curve of her arm.

"What?" she said. She knew that look. He was thinking about something and wasn't sure how to say it.

"Look, I'm not mad you slept with Gloria. I mean, even if I hadn't picked up that girl, I still wouldn't be mad."

"But…?" she said when he didn't continue.

He sighed. "But I'm wondering why. Just because she's hot?"

She made a face. "You know, there's a lot more to her than her looks. She graduated top of her class at Princeton Law. She's got this really wicked sense of—" She cut herself off. "That wasn't the point of your question."

"Not really, no," he said, dryly.

Her head tilted thoughtfully. "Some of the same reasons you did, I guess. It was about a year ago, and I was just…I was really sad, Juicy. I missed you and I thought you might change your mind at any minute. I thought maybe you'd meet somebody else or fall for a crow eater or any number of things."

"That never woulda happened."

"I know. Logically I know. But it was a bad time and I wasn't thinking logically."

He tapped one of the amethyst-colored blossoms on her side. "Don't get offended, okay? But it sorta confuses me how this whole thing works. You're with me, but you still want to sleep with women?"

She lifted her brows. "You're with me and you still want to sleep with women."

"No, not—it's not that—" He scrubbed a hand over his head. "Kimberly was an isolated incident."

"Kimberly? You slept with a grown woman named Kimberly?"

"Olivia."

She held up a hand. "Sorry. I'm not judging." Her mouth curved a little. "Juicy, listen. You think Gloria's hot, right?"

"Well, yeah. I've got eyes."

"Okay. I think she's hot, too. If the situation hadn't been what it was, I wouldn't have slept with her. Just like you wouldn't. Right?"

He looked away, his forehead creased. "I guess."

She gave him a light smack on the shoulder. "Ortiz. Didn't we have this discussion? I can find someone attractive without wanting to jump her—or his—bones. Just like you can."

"I really do know that, Liv."

She kissed his neck, a soft, sucking line from shoulder to ear. "Baby, would it've been easier on you if I'd slept with a guy?"

"Fuck no," he said with a scowl.

"Then what? I love you, Juice. I'm not going anywhere. I was scared and alone and she was there. That's all it was. Just like you and…Kimberly."

"I just worry sometimes that you miss women. Because I'm a guy and your experiences with guys haven't been that great, so I just…worry," he finished lamely.

She took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. She lingered there, kissing and nibbling and licking, until his breathing quickened and his fingers tightened on her hip.

When she pulled away her eyes were intense and steady on his. "I don't miss women because I don't miss anyone. I only want you. Juice Ortiz. If you were Juanita instead of Juan I wouldn't miss men. Because it's not your gender or your parts I'm in love with; it's you, Juicy. Just you. Do you understand?"

He let out a sharp puff of air. "I'm trash, Liv. Givin' you shit for sleepin' with Gloria when I did the same fuckin' thing."

"No, babe. I get it, and it's okay. But remember what I told you?" She sucked his lower lip into her mouth. "I'm yours, Juicy," she said, her voice low and her breath warm on his skin. "Nobody's ever made me feel as good as you. No one makes me come like you do."

"I don't know," he said, half-joking and half…not.

"You don't? I know I was a little incoherent before, but honestly you should take that as a compliment. All it really takes to be good at sex is patience and listening skills. Take your time and pay attention to what your partner likes." She smirked. "You're very good at both."

That perked him up. "I like to listen."

She kissed his nose. "I know you do."

"I like to listen when you tell me what feels good." He pressed his mouth to her shoulder. "And what you want me to do to you." Her jaw. "What you want to do to me." The pulse in her throat. "When you beg."

"When I make you beg," she said with a wicked grin.

"That too," he said, his voice gone husky. He kissed her and pressed a hand to the small of her back to rub a slow circle.

She rested her palm on his chest and leaned away. "You know we've gotta choose new names," she said, apropos of nothing.

"They let us choose?"

"Trudy didn't tell you that?"

"I guess I didn't ask."

"Well, they do. They prefer the new ones to have the same initials as our old ones, or to sound similar. Makes it easier to adjust."

"I can tell that advice didn't come from the former Audra Munro turned Olivia Gable."

She laughed and gave his jaw a teasing bite. "I decided to go a whole different direction."

"Uh huh." He wound a strand of her hair around his finger. "You gonna do AM or OG this time?"

"I don't know," she said and furrowed her brow. "I was thinking AM. Maybe kind of…reclaim my old name a little, you know? TJ's dead and Teddy's gone and I'm sick of letting either of them have any say on my life."

"Hhmm." He nibbled her ear as he thought it over. "There are a lot of pretty names that start with A. Abigail. Allison. Asia."

"Asia?" she said, doubtfully.

"I knew this girl in high school—"

"I'm not naming myself after one of your old girlfriends, Ortiz. Sorry."

He laughed. "Okay, fine." He paused. His expression clouded and his jaw worked.

"What, baby?"

"Maybe this's weird, but…my mom's name was Ana. I just…I always thought that was a real pretty name."

"It is pretty." She brushed her fingers along his jaw. "I actually thought of that the other day. I mean, I didn't know it was your mom's name. I just like it. I was going to ask what you thought about it."

He smiled, the soft, sweet one that made her heart catch every time. "I like it."

"Me too," she said with a grin. They were both half-laughing when their mouths met, and they swallowed each other's joy like ambrosia.

"What about you, Juan Carlos? JCO or just JO? You gonna embrace your Puerto Rican heritage or go more anglicized?"

He trailed a hand down the smooth line of her back. "I guess I gotta keep livin' the middle name life, if only because I like it so much when you call me both. And, I don't know. It feels sorta like a betrayal if I went with John or some shit. Even though I don't speak Spanish."

"You could always change that."

"Huh," he said. He hadn't really considered it. His brows drew together. He'd barely graduated high school, but that's mostly because he hadn't been all that interested; girls and computers and bikes had been much more enthralling to seventeen-year-old Juan Ortiz than history and bio could ever be.

"Would that be weird? Goin' back to school…like, college, I mean. I'm a grown-ass man."

"People go back to school at all sorts of ages, babe. It's never too late until you're dead."

"I could…I could take something with computers. Like programming or network security."

"Don't they basically teach hacking in network security classes?"

"Yup," he said with a grin.

"You'd be top of your class. Number one with a bullet."

His hand slid down to squeeze her ass. "Maybe if I got stuck on somethin' you could tutor me."

"Tutor you?" she murmured. "And would there be a costume involved in this tutoring? Like maybe some glasses?"

"A cute little skirt. Maybe one of those sweaters with the diamonds on it."

"Diamonds…? Oh. You mean argyle."

"Argyle. That's it," he mumbled as he caressed the round curve of her buttocks with his thumb. "Stockings under the skirt with a garter because your thighs in garters is what wet dreams are made of."

She laughed, low and warm. "Why, Mr. Ortiz, you've been holding out on me. I had no idea you had a sexy librarian kink."

"More like I have an Olivia Gable kink. And I just had this image—well. Maybe I should save it until I can act it out."

"Incorrigible, Ortiz. Really." She grabbed his wrist as his fingers dipped between her thighs. "Behave. We're trying to have a conversation."

"Uh huh. About me eating you out while you're wearing a cute little skirt and a garter belt."

"Hum," she said, tilting her head thoughtfully. "I actually thought it was about your new name."

He sighed. "Keep up, Liv. That was like three sexual fantasies ago."

She smothered a laugh against his shoulder. "I love you so damn much, Juice. I know I say it and I hope I do things that show it, but sometimes it just hits me and—God, I never thought I'd ever be stupid in love. Like sloppy and drunk and just—"

"Loopy."

"Yeah," she said. "Loopy."

"Dizzy," he said, softly.

"Breathless," she murmured.

He kissed her hard and hot, and as it deepened he rolled over on top of her. He nipped at her lips and caught the corner of her jaw with his teeth.

"Julio?" she whispered between searing kisses. "Jesus? Jorge?"

He made a face. "Maybe I should go English after all."

"Whatever you decide, can I still call you Juicy when you fuck me?"

"Baby, you can call me anything you want. I just love hearin' you."

"Mmm, me too. You're sexy when you beg."

He smiled and dipped his head to press a line of kisses against her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, and when she spoke again her voice was serious.

"I need you to be honest, Juicy. Don't think with your dick, or even your heart."

He looked up, forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, really. I just want to make sure you're sure. Really sure. I mean, you can leave the program once you get in—especially because you're not the witness—but that can be dangerous. I don't want you to think you have to do this. I mean, if you really wanted to—to…go back…after tonight…I guess I could—"

"Stop," he said. "Don't be ridiculous, Olivia. Charming isn't my home. SAMCRO isn't, either. You are. It took you leaving for me to realize it, but when I woke up and you were gone I think it hurt worse than this fuckin' scar."

Tears flooded her eyes and she tried to look away, but he caught her chin and wouldn't let her. "They wouldn't let me wait, baby. I didn't want to go. I tried—"

"Stop," he said again, gently. "I know. You don't have to explain anything to me." He paused and rested his forehead against hers. "When I was tryin' to come back from the surgery, sore all the time and annoyed and without any kind of stamina for anything, I went through this angry phase. I almost called Wong and told him the whole fuckin' thing was off, because I was so goddamn mad at you for leaving me."

"Oh," she said with a gulp.

He lifted his head and kissed her nose. "I got over it, babe. Chibs helped. Punched me in the face, actually."

She winced and rolled her eyes. "Jesus."

"Yeah, well, I needed it. I was all self-pity and bullshit, and he knocked sense into me."

"Ohh, well, if I'd known it was that easy—"

"Fuck you, Gable," he said with a laugh.

"Promise?" she purred.

"You better believe it," he growled in her ear. "Any time you want. For the rest of our lives, baby."

"Even when I'm old and wrinkly and my tits are saggy?"

He let out a snort of amusement. "Even then. I'll pop my pill and we'll bring the house down."

She turned her head away from his kiss at the last minute, and he grunted in protest. "You're even okay with Vermont?" she said.

"Huh?" He blinked to clear his head and tried to focus on more than the feel of her warm, soft body beneath his. "Oh. Yeah. Vermont's great. I love…syrup. And snow."

"I think there's more than syrup and snow."

"Really?"

Her face scrunched. "Maybe not. But we can get a house with a fireplace and have dirty, sweaty sex in front of it."

"I fuckin' love Vermont. Best state in the whole goddamn union."

"The way to your heart is ever through your dick, Ortiz," she said with a wry tilt to her mouth.

"I dunno. Straight through the sternum was pretty effective."

She swatted his shoulder. "Get off me if you're gonna make terrible jokes."

"I'd rather get off in you," he said and waggled his brows.

"Oh my God," she groaned. She shoved him away, but he pulled her with him so that their positions were reversed. She let her legs fall to either side of his hips and sat up. "You know, Juicy, your recovery time is admirable in a man your age."

"I'm only three years older than you, Liv."

"We would've been in high school together," she said with a grin.

"I was a douche in high school," he said. He rubbed her thighs and kneaded the long muscles.

"Hhhmm. Did you have a leather jacket? That mohawk?"

"Jacket, yeah. Mohawk not till later."

"Did you ride a motorcycle?"

"Yep."

She leaned down and traced her tongue over his lips. "I would've fucked you so hard, baby. Fucked you and stolen your leather jacket and maybe, maybe if you begged me enough let you feel me up sometime, just because I was bored."

His eyes went huge and his breath caught. She felt his cock twitch beneath her. "Was that the kind of girl you were, Livvie?" he murmured as his fingers tightened on her legs. "A high school mean girl?"

"Not when I was younger, but…well, by the time I had my first boyfriend. Yeah."

"What'd he do? Grope you in the back of his flatbed pickup and last about five seconds when you actually let him fuck you?"

"Somethin' like that. I guess it was more than just the Salma Hayek snake dance that helped me realize I'm bi."

He held her down as he rocked up against her. "How old were you?"

Her head fell back and she let out a low moan. "Sixteen. Reckless and wild because my mom was gone and I nearly died. Thought nothin' could touch me."

"You steal his leather jacket?"

She smirked. "His letter jacket. But same idea."

"Livvie, baby, I woulda treated you so good you might've taken my jacket, but you woulda brought it back the next day 'cause you couldn't keep your damn hands off me." He pinched a nipple between his knuckles. "Just like now."

"Oh? Was teenage Juan Carlos as eager to please as the present-day version?"

He snorted. "I was a douche, like I said. I didn't discover the joy of makin' a woman come her brains out until I was in my twenties."

"Then nope," she said. "You would've been the one trailing after me like a lost puppy. Ooo, Addie, suck my dick!" she said with a teasing grin."Audra, baby, let me just get you off one time. I'll finger you. You don't even have to give me a hand job while I do it!"

He barked out a laugh. "Yeah, that sounds like me. You got my number."

"I've had your number since day one, m'love. But you still never fail to surprise me."

"You know, by the time you were sixteen I was out. Graduated by the skin of my teeth and loose on the world."

"I bet you didn't go far, did you? Stayed around the old neighborhood and kicked up trouble. Don't worry; I still would've found you. Probably would've seen you around when I was a cute little freshman you didn't look at twice, but once I grew up a little, I would've found you. And maybe taught you a thing or two in the bargain."

"I bet you would," he murmured. She had, after all, hadn't she? Or maybe he'd found her. Or they'd found each other. He shrugged a shoulder. "Didn't really have anywhere else to go, till I moved out here."

"Chasin' a girl?"

"Somethin' like that," he said with a rueful grin. He sat up, rearranging her on his lap, and when they were both settled again he said, "What about you? You chase girls in high school?"

"One," she said. "Well, no, I didn't really chase her. After I broke up with letter jacket guy I started spending more and more time with my best friend. Then I think we both kinda realized we were together so much because we wanted to be a lot more than friends."

He blinked at her, eyes wide. "Does this story involve a sleepover of some sort? A pillow fight?"

"Juan Carlos!" she said with a laugh.

"I know, I know: too much porn."

"Uh huh." She pressed her lips together as she tried to smother a smile. "It wasn't a sleepover, per se. I mean, it was just the two of us. But she used to spend the night at my house a lot on the weekends, and I only had one bed, sooo…"

His eyes looked like they were about to bug out of his head. "Maybe we should change the subject," he said in a strangled voice.

She giggled. "Probably. You look like you're about to have an aneurysm."

He traced a pattern among the inked-in petals on her upper thigh. "You always seemed to enjoy it when we watched porn together."

"That's because you let me pick the movies." She paused. "You know I'm open-minded about sex."

His mouth quirked. "I've noticed that."

She poked him. "The problem is porn can be so gross and unrealistic. I mean, women aren't hairless Barbie doll dick receptacles."

He spluttered. "Holy shit. When you put it that way—"

"Well? Am I lying? Come on. And girl on girl scenes. Wow, really?" She rolled her eyes. "And don't get me started on threesomes."

He'd heard the diatribe before, but he loved to hear her talk when she got passionate about something; she tended to use her whole body, and at the moment she was sitting naked on his lap, so.… "Bisexual women don't exist to fulfill men's sexual fantasies," he said, quoting her almost directly.

"Exactly! I mean, I tell you things sometimes, and I know it turns you on—which, duh, is why I tell you—but I also know you see me as an actual human being and not—"

"A hairless Barbie doll dick receptacle?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you making fun of me?"

He choked out a laugh and kissed her. "No, baby. Not at all. First, I have never and will never want you to be a hairless Barbie doll."

"I know that," she said, sounding a little sulky.

He kissed her again, taking his time about it. "Second," he said, softer, "you know you're a subject of my sexual fantasies because you're you. You're almost the only thing I've fantasized about since the night we met."

"Almost?" she said, teasing.

"I tried to break it up a little when I was trying to get over you."

"Hhhmm," she said. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his neck. "Did it work?"

"Not really." He took his cue from her and captured a handful of her thick, dark mane. "You know, I think I could get used to this."

"I thought you liked the red."

"I do. I really, really do." He grinned at her. "But it's still red in some places."

"The advantages of not being a hairless Barbie doll."

"Uh huh." He tugged her head back and kissed her throat, scraping with his teeth and sucking softly.

"That feels good, Juicy," she whispered.

"Does it?" He sucked harder.

She let out a shaky breath, and he lathed over the spot with his tongue.

"Don't wanna leave a mark. You've got to look all professional to testify tomorrow."

"Hum. Don't remind me."

His brow furrowed and he stroked her sides, a gesture more of comfort and affection than anything sexual. "You nervous, babe?"

"I don't know," she said with a grimace. "Maybe a little. Gloria said it would be a closed courtroom, since they need to protect my identity, but I'm still going to have to tell a whole bunch of strangers a whole lot of really personal shit."

"I wish I could be there for you," he said. "I know you'll do great, though."

"Thank you, love. And it's okay. You'll be there after." Her mouth curved and she caught his hand to kiss the tips of his fingers. "You're here now."

He shifted so that his rock-hard cock was nestled between her slick labia. "Definitely here now," he said, roughly.

She dug her teeth into her lower lip and rocked a little. Whimpered as the smooth head slid across her clit. "You always know exactly what I need, baby."

"Yeah?" he murmured. "You want me inside you, Livvie? That what you need?"

"Fuck yes," she said on a sharp breath. "You know I do."

"You're all wet me for me, sweetheart." He slid a finger between them and stroked it down her slit. Brought it to his mouth and sucked it clean.

"I told you I missed your cock. I meant it."

"I guess you did." He brushed the back of his hand down her body, from collarbone to hip, barely skimming her skin and her taut nipples. "I'm gonna give you what you want, Livvie, because God knows I want it too—just bury myself in you balls deep and fuck you till you scream."

She shivered. Her eyes when they met his were heavy-lidded and passion-drugged. Her mouth moved in a little smile. "I know you are, Juicy. I could have you begging me in about ten seconds."

"But you aren't gonna do that, are you?" he said. He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. She flicked her tongue against it.

She shook her head. "Nuh uh."

"Nope. Because you know who that sweet wet cunt belongs to, don't you?"

She closed her eyes and nodded. Her fingers were tight on his ribs and she moved against him in short, maddening jerks.

"Say it," he rasped. "Let me hear you, baby."

Her jaw clenched. Heat licked up from her clit as it bumped over his glans, and they were both panting and trembling. Finally she gave in.

"You!" she cried. "It's yours. I'm yours, Juicy. Only yours."

"Fuckin' Christ," he groaned. "Goddamn that's gotta be the sexiest thing—" He broke off and lifted her with strong hands and held her there.

"You're mine, Livvie. I'm yours."

He let go and she slid down onto him, enveloping his cock in her wet heat all the way to the base. Her face scrunched and she rested her forehead against his shoulder.

"You okay, baby?" he murmured, his hands stroking her hair and down her back.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I just—I wasn't sure I'd ever—" She wiggled and he bit back a moan. "You just feel so damn good, Juicy."

He trailed his mouth down the side of her neck, sweet, soft kisses that made her feel languid and golden. "I know what you mean, sweetheart. You got any idea how many times I jerked off thinkin' about this moment in the last fifteen months?"

"Ha!" she said, a sharp sound of amusement. "I think I can guess." She moved her hips in a slow roll. "So romantic, Ortiz."

"Thought you didn't want romance," he muttered. Her pace was making him crazy, and he fought the urge to throw her backwards and fuck her into the mattress.

"That's my general life philosophy, but then…"

She trailed off, and he glanced up at her, a smile dancing around his eyes. "Then…?"

"I got these letters," she said. She sucked his earlobe. "A whole box of them."

He thrust up into her and she rocked down against him.

"Letters, huh?" he said, his voice rough and breathless. "What kinda letters?"

She pushed him back to the bed and braced her hands on his chest. Leaned forward so that he rubbed against her clit every time she moved. He squeezed her ass in both hands and she rode him faster, took him deeper.

"Love letters," she managed between gasps.

"Who—fuck, babe, holy Christ—who sent you—like that, right there, goddamn—love letters?"

She went still. He groaned in frustration. She smirked and ran her fingers through the sweat coating his skin. Brushed her palms across his nipples. When he bucked against her she wagged a finger at him and he went still, the pulse in the hollow of his throat pounding and frantic.

"You did, Juan Carlos. Beautiful, wonderful, erotic love letters." Her brows drew together and her expression was puzzled as she studied him. "Just when I think you're done surprising me, you come out with something like that."

"Good surprise?"

She laughed and kissed him long and sweet. "Yeah, love. Amazing surprise."

He flipped them both over and she let out a delighted little shriek. "Good surprise?" he repeated with a face-transforming grin.

"Yes!" she gasped as he sank in even deeper.

He grabbed her legs and tugged them higher; draped them over his arms and moved slow and easy until he hit the exact angle that made her moan the loudest. "Right there?"

"Uh huh," she breathed with a frantic nod. "Don't stop, Juicy. Fuck me, baby, please!"

He picked up a quick, hard rhythm, barely pulling out before he plunged in again. Her nails dug into his shoulder and the back of his neck, and he watched her face as it flushed and scrunched.

"Love you, Livvie," he whispered, his eyes dark and intense on hers. "Need you. Feels so goddamn good."

She moved with him, meeting every thrust with eager jerks of her hips, and she could feel the heat building sharp and deep. "Love you too, Juicy. God that's just right—so good—fuck, babe, can't get enough…!"

He chuckled, a rusty grate. "I know you can't. I know. S'why you're mine. S'why I'm yours."

Her words had dissolved into soft, whimpering cries. He wrapped her legs around his chest and felt them tighten against him. Stroked her face and kissed her with avid fervor. She twined her arms around his shoulders, her fingers in his hair, and he buried his face in her neck and they rocked together. Her body went taut, and he didn't slow as her cunt clenched his cock.

The orgasm was like a series of shocks, crackles of electricity that tensed her muscles and left her shaking and shuddering. She moaned his name, a lust-wrecked litany, and as much as he might want to, he couldn't hold on a second longer. His own orgasm hit, a rough storm, and he cried an incoherent babble of love and curses.

She was laughing as he fell against her. It bubbled up from somewhere deep inside, some secret store where she had hidden all her joy and sweetness. He knew where it was. He knew how to tap it.

She wondered if that would ever cease to amaze her.

They lay wrapped together, sweat-slicked skin adhering to sweat-slicked skin. They both felt wrung out, but in the best way possible, and he kissed anything he could reach without moving his head at all.

"Gimme minute," he muttered. "Gon' move."

"It's okay." She stroked her fingers through his hair. "Stay."

Finally he lifted his chin and fixed her with a sweet, tired smile. "You still gonna marry me, 'Livia?"

"I don't know. You gonna write me any more love letters?"

"Every day if you want."

She grinned. "That might be a little excessive."

"Wouldn't wanna overdo it."

"Might give yourself a cramp." She tangled her fingers with his and squeezed. "Can't have that."

His face stilled and his eyes turned serious. "Marry me, Olivia. I mean it."

"I already said yes, didn't I?"

"I know. But that was before. It's been a long time, and I wanna make sure—"

"Yes, Juice. Yes I'll marry you."

His grin was blinding, and he captured her mouth with his and didn't release her for a long, long time. They rolled across the bed, laughing and teasing and kissing, and when they finally settled they were both breathless. He wrapped an arm around her and she curled up against his side, her head on his shoulder.

He spread his hand under hers and compared them. He marveled over how delicate hers looked, small and long-fingered and elegant. He knew the strength in those fingers. Had felt it as she held him. Had watched her sew or fix some impossibly complicated bit of machinery. He knew she'd never want a ring. He didn't want her to have one. He rubbed his thumb against her third finger and she cast him a curious look.

"What's on your mind, Ortiz?"

He hesitated. "I had kind of a thought."

"Kind of? So a thought-lette?"

"Somethin' like that," he said with a quirk of his mouth.

She kissed his chest, the flat plane just before the curve of his shoulder. "You gonna spit it out, or make me guess?"

"You might think it's dumb."

"Probably not. Tell me."

He cleared his throat. "I was just thinking…I know you hate jewelry."

"Uh huh," she said, her tone wary.

"Now that I don't wear the club rings anymore, I'm not sure I'm crazy about it, either."

They'd both felt trapped by their own ornamentation.

She waited him out as he searched for the words.

"What if—instead of, like, wedding rings—what if we got tattoos? Not like dumb heart tattoos with our initials in them or something, but ring tattoos. Instead of rings."

Her mouth curved. "Kinda permanent."

He let out a frustrated huff. "Duh."

"You really want the whole world to know I'm yours, don't you, Juicy?"

He studied her face in a search for the trap or the mocking. There wasn't any. "I sure as fuck do," he said.

"Good," she murmured as she kissed him. "Because I do, too."

He ran his fingers through her hair and swirled his tongue against hers. Pulled away and pressed their foreheads together. "So, Liv—or whatever the fuck your name is—you and me?"

"Yeah, JO. You and me."

Their eyes met and held, and the moment stretched and lengthened. It didn't matter where they went—Vermont, Hawaii, the fucking moon—or what their names were. They had each other, and they had always been better together.

His mouth quirked. "You and me, AM."

A pause.

Then, "How do you feel about dogs?"

Fin. 8/21/14

Welp. I guess that's it. :) Clearly this chapter didn't HAVE to happen, but there were some things I wanted them to work out, so I figured why not frame it around a whole lot of shameless smut?

Thanks to everyone who's stuck around this whole time; to the reviewers and the followers and the fav-ers and the PMers. To the casual reader and the addicted one. You guys are the best, and I love hearing from you ALL. :)

Er, ha. In other news and then I'll shut up: I have the urge to write either the 15 months they were apart (from Juice's pov) OR a high school au. What? I'm going to take a nap. UPDATE: I've started the highschool!au. It's called In the Blood, and you can find it here and on ao3. :)