A/N: Shout out to mrj726. Thanks for the song and scene suggestion! Hope I don't disappoint. The music in this story is "Pusher Love Girl" by Justin Timberlake. To anyone else who suggested music; thank you! I will be working on more one-shots like this based on the songs you suggested!

It's so good to be home.

Don't get me wrong, spending a week training with the FBI on interrogation techniques was actually pretty neat. But, the timing was unfortunate. It had to pop up only a few weeks after embarking on my new relationship with my best friend.

We decided to start dating about a month ago, but made the leap to lovers a little over two weeks ago. It has been absolutely incredible. We're both insatiable...addicted to each other's touch...to the point that it frequently interferes with our everyday routines.

At the height of this passionate exploration...I get called away to receive federal training. For the past seven days, I have been without my drug of choice...isolated in a mandatory Maura-detox-hell.

But, I'm back home now.

And I'm horny as hell.

Maura would say it's some kind of 'physical manifestation of my mental frustration' from having to attend that damned seminar when I all really wanted to do was stay in Boston and jump her bones...or she'd point out the fact that I'm ovulating.


I step on the gas a little harder as my mind fills with images of my girlfriend in various stages of undress.

There was a text message waiting for me when I turned my phone on after my plane landed in Boston this evening.

Hurry home. ;-) M

I can practically feel the mobile device burning a hole through my blazer as I drive a little too fast down the highway.

I finally reach her house and use my key to unlock the front door.

The first thing I notice is a trail of lit candles proceeding down the hallway. My heart immediately skips a beat and an ecstatic grin splits my face from ear to ear.

I close and lock the door behind me before kicking off my shoes. I shrug out of my jacket as I walk further into the home in search of the beautiful pyromaniac who is undoubtedly responsible for all this fire.

I start to undo the buttons of my collared shirt as I call out to my lover.

"I'm home, babe. Sorry I had to be gone so long. Why don't you let...me...make it..."

I swear...there was more I wanted to say, but I seem to have lost the capacity for speech.

My lover is waiting for me in the living room. The space is illuminated by the flickering glow of what appears to be over fifty candles.

Her hair is a little more unruly than she normally allows it to be and she's gone a few shades darker with her eye shadow and liner. She's wearing one of her black pea-coats...it just about reaches her knees. Her feet are encased in a bright red pair of heels; they have to be four inches tall...and dear God...her bare legs in those shoes should be illegal.

She lifts a hand and silently beckons me with her index finger.

I make my way over to her, but halt in my tracks as she holds her hand up and authoritatively commands.


My skin begins to prickle as I watch her eyes rake over my form.

After a few moments, she returns her gaze to mine and smiles deviously. She points to her couch.


How could I not?

I have very limited control of my motor functions at this point in time, but I manage to make my way over and sit down with some semblance of composure. The coffee table has been moved aside to leave an open space in front of the furniture I am now seated on.

She steps close and reaches for something beside me.

I extend a hand out and run it over her bicep.

She swats away my advance.

"No touching, detective."

I make a desperate and exasperated sound, then release the full force of my 'puppy dog eyes' on her. I feel like a child that Santa forgot to leave presents for on Christmas morning.

She sticks out her lower lip in an imitative pout.

She's mocking me.

If I could feel my legs, I would stamp my foot...but I can't, so I don't.

She giggles at my obvious mix of arousal and frustration and it is perhaps one of the most seductive sounds I've ever heard.

She speaks quietly...teasingly...

"You've waited an entire week, Jane. I'm sure you can show some restraint for a little while longer."

There is a small remote on the arm of the couch. She picks it up, presses a button and music starts playing through her home's expensive speaker system.

Oh shit...oh holy mother of God...she's gonna dance for me...

This is...new...and fucking sexy.

I clench my jaw shut in an attempt to keep from drooling all over myself.

As the song fills the room, I find that the music is not quite what I had expected to hear. She begins to twirl in place to the sounds of a symphonic string section and comes to a stop, facing away from me.

Then...an electric organ accompanies the strings and she peeks over her shoulder at me with a glint in her eye. She unfastens her coat and lets it fall to the floor.

It appears that my girlfriend has been doing some shopping while I've been away. I haven't seen this babydoll dress before. It's made of black silk and covers a little more of her body than I would like. Unfortunately...it is not see-through. It does, however, provide a tantalizing contrast to her creamy skin and shiny heels.

A much different beat starts up and she saunters over to retrieve a chair that had been inconspicuously resting against the wall.

She places the chair a few feet in front of me and begins to slowly circle it, reaching out every so often to caress its wood frame.

She makes an incredibly arousing show of grinding her hips and sliding her hands over every inch of her body. She bends over slightly, whips her head down and lets her hair fall over her face, then jerks her upper body straight up and flings her golden copper locks back over her head. She bends and twirls and shimmies until a light sheen of sweat forms on her skin.

Perspiration forms on my own skin and my breathing becomes labored from the exertion of having to sit still and behave myself.

Eventually, she sits down.

Now...this is not the closed knee, dainty, lady like movement that is so characteristics of the polite and proper medical examiner. No. She runs her hands from her thighs, up her stomach, over her well-endowed chest, and around her neck to eventually tangle in her own hair. She trails the appendages back down her body and slowly lowers herself onto the very edge of the seat. She lets her body lean back until her shoulders come to rest on the back of the chair. As her hands reach her thighs once more, she takes hold of her knees and spreads her legs apart.

Yeah, I know. Maura Isles...adorned in a black silk babydoll and red 'fuck me' heels...sitting spread eagle less than four feet away. You think you're turned on? I'm about to have a goddamned heart attack.

I quirk an eyebrow and my gaze falls, 'cause let's face it...I'm not gonna take this moment to admire the room's lovely crown molding. My eyes almost pop out of my head and my jaw hits the floor like a brick.

No panties...she's not wearing any fucking panties...

I curl my fingers into tight fists and I can feel my nails digging into my palms. I think I break the skin...

Her hands begin to move up her inner thighs and she starts to gently caress and kneed the skin there.

Is it wet in here or is it just me? No...no, by the looks of it, it isn't just me. Awe...she's gonna ruin that fancy chair of hers.

I somehow manage to spare a glance back up.

She's got her bottom lip pulled between her teeth and a look of pure ecstasy on her face as her wandering hands get closer and closer to the promise land.

She lets her head fall back and unabashedly moans as she dips her fingers into herself.

I shift in my seat, trying desperately to get some relief from the painful pounding between my legs. I'm dizzy...I think I need to sit down. Wait...I already am. I need a drink, then.

My gaze is locked onto Maura's fingers as she works magic on her soaking flesh...yeah...I definitely need a drink...let's start with that.

"Holy fuck, Maur."

Her head pops back up at my exclamation and her eyes lock onto mine. The game is over. She's pushed herself past the point of teasing and now she's just as desperate as I am.


Everything about her is begging for my touch...I'll get revenge for all this teasing later. Right now? I. Need. Her.

We stand up and fling ourselves at each other. We come crashing together in a torrent of greedy lips, nipping teeth, flailing limps, and undulating hips.

Her hands come to the seam of my button down shirt and she rips it apart. She then makes quick work of my pants and they're on the floor in seconds. Same goes for my underwear.

I had intended to make sweet, passionate love to my girlfriend in her soft and comfortable bed tonight.

Guess I'll have to settle for lustful, desperate sex on her living room carpet.

Oh well...we all have to make sacrifices every once in a while.

We sink to the floor and she settles herself on top of me.

I'm only vaguely aware of my actions as I shred her flimsy garment to bits and pull its remains off of her.

With nothing more than a pair of heels on, she begins to frantically thrust her pelvis into my own. I have no problem matching her pace. Our lips engage in a fierce struggle for dominance and our tongues lash out in an attempt to gain the upper hand. It's a battle that both of us win and lose.

It doesn't take long. We're both so close. It's a side effect of the week long separation and the evening's entertainment.

In only a few minutes, we're both there. Her back arches and she raises her face to the ceiling.

See...when she reaches that 'special happy place', every muscle in her body locks up. She doesn't speak...doesn't blink...doesn't breathe...and her mouth freezes in the shape of a vowel she can't give voice to. For several seconds, she is completely cemented in place.

When I orgasm, I convulse like I'm being repeatedly and rapidly shocked with a defibrillator. This causes an amazing contrast between us when we're in the throes of passion. The sight of her...so completely overcome with euphoric sensations...heightens my own pleasure to an almost unbearable level, while the continued stimulation of my jerking hips provide a delicious friction that prolongs our gratification and delivers us safely over our crests.

She starts to come down from her high and begins to actively push into my hips again. Her breathing is labored and she groans and gasps her elation.

She eventually collapses onto me and claims my lips once more in a possessive kiss.

We manage to slow our breathing and our racing hearts settle as our kiss becomes tamer. She pulls back and looks down into my eyes.

She gives me a happy smile that manages to say, 'we are nowhere near done', and then whispers sweetly to me.

"Welcome home."

I take the opportunity to flip her over onto her back and begin to trail kisses down her neck and chest; licking, nipping, and sucking bits of flesh along the way.

When my downward progression brings me to the expanse of skin that connects belly to pelvis, I lift my head and smirk up at her.

Her eyes are wild and her breathing is heavy again.

I offer only a seductive wink before dropping my head once more and resuming my previous route.

I still need that drink.

A/N: Well...there you have it, my very first M rated fic. How did I do? Should I leave erogenous writing to the more capable authors? Would you like to see writing like this from me again? I have to admit...I did have a bit of fun with this. ;) Thank you so much for reading! -SJR