A/N This very naughty short story fits between The Game and the forthcoming Jealous Sons.
As usual, I own nothing of Monk, just my enduring love of the characters and their possibilities.


Adrian Monk was meandering through the aisles of Markham Books and Gifts with no particular mission. He was there because his wife was on a mission. She was in the youth section, selecting Christmas gifts for Charlie and Emery, their son and daughter, and Willow, their goddaughter. Holiday music was drifting through the air as carelessly as he was through the aisles. He'd stop and pick a book off a shelf now and then, reading the back blurb; he kept a few in his basket, and most he returned to the shelves. He was a particular man in all areas of his life; reading material was no exception.

As carefree a person as Adrian Monk ever became, that was the person who strolled the bookstore that afternoon. He and Natalie had helped the SFPD wrap a case the day before; they'd signed all the paperwork that morning, and a horrible person was going to jail. Their family was safe, healthy, and happy. In just a couple of weeks, Julie and Jared were getting married–on New Year's Eve. Charlie was now 7, and Emery was almost 5. His life was so good that if he died right now, he knew he'd have lived completely. But he most certainly did not want to die yet because there was so much more to look forward to. Grandchildren, retirement–if that ever actually happened–and more time with Natalie by his side. So it was decided that some Christmas shopping was on their agenda this morning.

He was engrossed in looking for the newest in a series of books he liked when he bumped into the corner of the remainder bin. He turned to rub his soon-to-be-bruised hip and glanced into the bin. There on the top was a blast from the past: "Re-Cooper-ating: Confessions of a Child Star" by Christine Rapp. Just a dollar in the bargain bin. How sad. Monk had to chuckle thinking about that case, how he and Natalie had waited in line all night, how he'd had a trivia contest with another fan who needed to cheat to beat him. How he had become Christine's bodyguard, and how the case ended. He also remembered the mirror on the ceiling in her bedroom and how he and Natalie had gone to one of those motels out by the highway after they'd recovered from the injuries they'd sustained in the explosion of their offices two years ago–at Monk's very specific, private request to his willing wife. The ceiling mirror was definitely a revelation for the formerly chaste and strait-laced Adrian Monk. Marrying a self-proclaimed wild child like Natalie had taught him so many things. But he even managed to surprise her once in a while with his requests and questions.

Suddenly, he remembered something else from that time. His curiosity took over. He placed his basket at his feet and grabbed the Rapp book. He turned to page 73. Natalie had literally eaten the damn page to prevent him from reading it to protect his previously more delicate sensibilities, just like she'd always guarded him from things that might upset him.

He began to read… I walked into the producer's office and slammed the door shut. I removed my shirt before he could ask me what I was doing. Then, I walked over to the couch, straddled him, and kissed him. I let him remove my bra. He placed a hand on my back and the other on the back of my head. That way, I couldn't back out. I pulled off his shirt and worked his belt as he licked my nipples. Once the fly on his jeans was down, he carried me onto his desk, and we worked together to push off all the papers. Then he pulled himself free and quickly pulled down my underwear. Adrian swallowed the lump in his throat, embarrassed but titillated by the pictures in his head. He didn't like to watch porn, but maybe he could read it and use his imagination. He'd been so horny that my panties barely made it to my knees, and he penetrated. Then he pumped as hard as he could, squeezing my ass, and I moaned as loud as I wanted to. Who cared who heard? It seemed perpetual and endless. I rode wave after wave of ecstasy and delight. And, no, there's no part where I imagined us putting our clothes back on. We didn't. Instead, we tried some more positions: on the floor, me sitting on him, me against the wall. We literally f*&^ed our brains out. All before noon that day.

Adrian slammed the book shut. His cheeks burned hot, he was semi-aroused, and his breath came in brief pants. That's how Natalie found him, her arms full of books and her eyes full of concern.

"Adrian, are you all right?"

"I um…I…well… uh…." he stuttered uncontrollably.

"Honey. Calm down. What happened?"

Adrian gained some command of his emotions. "Pa-page 73!"

Natalie looked down at his hands and saw what he was holding. "Oh my god! I ate that dang page so you wouldn't read it! What were you thinking?"

"That…that I could handle it now?"

"Porn, even soft porn, still isn't your thing, sweetie," Natalie whispered to him.

"You might be wrong."

"What?"

"Let's get out of here." He murmured urgently in her ear, his eyes glinting with fire.

Natalie examined his dilated pupils, red-stained cheeks, and shallow breathing. He was really sexy when he was turned on! Well, he was a very visual, cerebral person. Maybe reading… not watching… "Okay… let me just get these…"

"Must you?"

"Yes." She knew drawing out his arousal drove him crazy and would spark his desire further. She smirked at him with a seductive look and a wink. She purchased all of her selections and his, including the Rapp book–the semi-pornographic remainder, for a dollar.

Once they were in the car, she realized they couldn't go home. A flash of inspiration hit her. As she drove, she hit her home speed dial from her steering wheel, and Mercy, their housekeeper, picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mercy. It's Natalie."

"Hi!"

"We just caught a case, so we wanted to know if you could stay a little longer today if necessary."

"Sure, Natalie, no problem."

"Thank you."

Adrian laughed after she hung up. "You just lied to Mercy!"

"You want some alone time with me?"

"Yes."

"Then leave that be and leave the rest to me."

Less than ten minutes later, they pulled up to the motel they'd been to before for the ceiling mirror experiment.

"Here?" Adrian asked, forty-seven point five percent filled with excitement and forty-seven point five percent filled with revulsion. He always left at least five percent of himself empty for emergencies.

"Yes! It was fine last time. Don't worry; you'll forget where you are a few seconds after we get inside. I promise!"

Natalie grabbed her purse and the Rapp book from the backseat and ran to the registration office. Less than five minutes later, Natalie returned with a key in her hand.

Adrian was leaning on the car, waiting—almost vibrating, heart racing.

She shook the key in front of his face with a grin, "Number ten, let's go!"

They very nearly raced to the door of the room and burst through it, immediately panting and pawing at each other's clothes; Natalie dropped her bag and the book and kicked off her shoes. No matter how long they were together, their fire never burned out, and passion ignited between them instantly. It was like setting fire to aged paper. Once they were mostly undressed, Natalie grabbed the book and dragged Adrian to the bed, pushing him down.

"Nat, what are you doing with the damn book? Just get over here… I need you. Now!"

Natalie opened the book, turned to page 73, and read aloud. Once she began reading, she started reenacting and directing him in turn.

After an excruciating extended foreplay, Adrian couldn't take anymore; he was more turned on than he ever thought possible; he flung the book from Natalie's hand and flipped her onto her back. She half-laughed and then gasped with pleasure at her husband's sudden take-charge behavior. The moment he entered her, he came. He cursed and keened, and Natalie cried out with her release as well.

Words on the page certainly had their share of power, Natalie thought hazily. Moments later, sated and beginning to calm, they both smiled and then started giggling like children with a big secret.

"Natalie…that was…it was…I feel… I felt…" Finally, he gave up. "I have no words." He collapsed next to her.

"That, my love, is why people watch porn. To get outrageously turned on and find new ways to explore each other."

"I still don't want to watch." He shook his head vehemently. Other naked people doing private naked people things… no way.

"I know, but you don't seem to have an objection to reading it…or me reading it… in fact, it seems to have really rocked your world, my very proper Mr. Monk!" She reached out and caressed him intimately.

He choked, turned at least three shades of crimson that he hadn't reached earlier, but had to nod his head, still slightly abashed but in complete agreement.

"My god, every time something new happens between us, I discover I love you even more than I did the day before. How is that even possible? More than my intellectual 'in love' feelings, more like every cell of me loves every cell of you. On some deeply molecular level. And every time we connect physically, I can feel you deeper in my being. I really can't explain it, but it seems like more than love. It seems elemental."

Natalie crept closer to him and curled into his chest. "I know exactly what you mean. It's so funny how many ways exist to love a person. I love you, as my husband and I care for you and worry for you. That's the way the world observes me loving you. Of course, I love you as my best friend, too. Then there's this other thing between us that comes from the quiet spaces of living, the intimacy of marriage, and, of course, the sex. This purely physical love between us that I can never share and would never want to share with anyone else. Even if I were to write a book about life with the world's greatest detective, I couldn't share this. It's so private; it's so amazing. I also know that we are rare. Not all couples are this lucky to have this kind of love–the intellectual kind and the physical kind. The fact that it keeps evolving only makes me wish for one thing: that it could last forever. I feel so lucky to have this with you."

"Natalie…" Adrian began, but the words wouldn't come. His throat was constricted with emotion, and his heart was bound with the feelings he'd never be able to put into words. The only thing he could do was pour his feelings into an exceptional kiss.

Natalie sighed after that kiss. "Have I ever told you you are a really great kisser?"

"Maybe, but tell me more," he smiled against her lips. They made love slowly the second time instead of fast, dirty, and frantic like the first time. Natalie didn't read anything this time; she used her own words to tell her husband of eight years just how much she loved him and what he did to her. Apparently, talking dirty was also something that Adrian Monk didn't mind and didn't need a wipe to erase.

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