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The Detective's Unexpected Pregnancy: A Christmas Interlude

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As soon as they walked past her door, all of Georgie’s bravado suddenly vanished; feeling Chris’ gaze burning the back of her head, she felt like shiver, her mind as fogged as she was a teenage girl inviting a boy over for the very first time.

“So…” She said, clearing her voice a little, turning to look at Chris; the young man was smiling, chuckling shamelessly as he shook his head. But she could see he was happy- as happy as she hadn’t seen him in a long, long time. Georgie made her way to her couch, and sat on one end, rearranging around her the festive pillows. Suddenly, she didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she kept in her lap, over her pregnant tummy, one of the pillows, as he gaze focused on everything but Chris, on the small Christmas Tree decorated with red and golden ribbons and balls and flowers, on the useless and a bit kith trinkets scattered all over the room; her eyes suddenly zeroed on the Nativity set on her coffee table, the Baby the only thing she could see.

She felt the couch shift, and with the corner of her eye she saw Chris sitting on the other side of the piece of furniture; she gulped down a mouthful of saliva, her hands joined over her pregnant belly  as she blushed.

She wanted to get back to few minutes before, when, in the car, she had closed the distance between them and finally, finally joined their lips together. She wanted to be that vixen, that bold seductress she had been until few moments before, but that ethereal creature was somehow escaping her.

And what made it worse was knowing that Christopher was totally on board with this. He wanted her- she knew this- and yet he would have never forced her to do something she wasn’t ready for; like a true southern gentleman, he would have waited for her to take the first step- and any that would follow. Just like he had done their whole “relationship”: he had been her caring friend, helping her settle down yet again in New Orleans, so that she would make up new memories and forget any pain the city had caused her. And when he had discovered of her pregnancy, Chris had been supporting and helpful- he had done anything, from making sure she eat well to drive her to her doctor  to even help her put with the nursery.

“You know what? I’m thirsty. I’ll… get you something to drink, all right?” She zoomed out of the room, and started pacing the kitchen, looking for glasses and bottles and anything and then rearrange what she had taken; knowing that  Chris  was leaning against the doorframe, casually, and looking at her sweetly, didn’t do her any good.

“I’ve got some Christmas tea, in case you are interested. Wait- no, you can’t be interested, tea it’s just not you.” She said as she gave him her back, standing right before the open refrigerator, a Christmassy cup in hand. “Beer? Nope- I don’t think I have any alcohol  here. Cold tea? It’s better than hot tea, right’ Or maybe I could…”

“Tsk, Tsk…” Chris uttered, caging her petite frame with his far bigger one. He was so much taller than her, that Georgie could feel his hot breath on the back of her head, on her  reddish hair.

“You know, “ He said, leaning over her, taking the cup from Georgie’s hand. “Either I’m not as good as I thought at this, or we definitely are out of shape…” he chuckled sweetly, nuzzling the skin of her neck affectionately.  Palming her sides,  he started to play with the hem of her bright red and shiny sweater, his fingertips lazily and yet expertly drawing mindless patterns on her belly. Leaning her head on his shoulder, Georgie closed her eyes and breathed hard for this simple touch alone, and mumbled something incoherent- probably a swear- at his address, cursing the man for the power he held upon her.

As one of his hand became more adventurous and roughly squeezed her left breast through the thin fabric of her azure bra, Georgie leaned fully on him, her right hand squeezing Chris’ knee, the other at an awkward and yet arousing angle; she was cupping his head, forcing him down toward her. As she lazily scratched the back of his neck, it was all the encouragement he needed, and Chris put his mouth at good use, licking and kissing and lazily biting the tender skin of her neck and at the juncture of her shoulder. It seemed that things were finally getting interesting, as the hand that had stayed on her stomach had moved south. Chris had popped open the button of her jeans, and  without lowering the zip, he had started to play with the fabric of the panties matching her bra, his own breathing becoming more and more labored with each passing instant as he felt her heat  and her moisture through the thin lace.

And then, just like he had started…Chris stopped, frozen on the spot.

“LaSalle.” She hissed between clenched teeth, scratching his neck with more strength, leaving burning indentations on his sun-kissed skin. At her back, Chris gulped down a mouthful of saliva, his eyes closed as he cursed and prayed every God and Saint he had even just ever heard of to give him the strength to do what was right.

“Are you sure? Are you completely sure? Because if we do this and then you change your mind, I don’t think I’d be strong enough to stay around you.”

Closing her eyes in bliss, Georgie inhaled, calmly. She half turned her face, and gently kissed, open-mouthed, his collarbone. “Yeah, well, if you don’t move, you’ll not have to worry about me changing my mind, because you’ll be too busy being dead.” She chuckled, joking, as she resumed lazily scratching his neck, something that had him purring like a cat in no time at all, putty in her hands. Just like she liked him. Just like she had always secretly wanted him.

“Your wish is my command, ma’am.” He chuckled amused, making fun of her- of how she was supposed to be his boss, being older, having been in the Force much longer. And yet, despite the difference in age, they were more similar of what they wanted to admit. Both burned by dead of their oved ones, both scared and scarred. But Chris had always been stronger than her; after Katrina- even after Savannah- he had never taken the easy way out, but faced whatever life was going to throw at him. Georgie, instead, had always been too good at escaping- especially from him.

Chris resumed his ministrations and her careful explorations, when it was Georgie’s turn to freeze; she tensed, something he felt and that made him stop in no time at all.

“Wait. I’m not sure it’s safe to…” she blushed, biting her lips as she didn’t  know how she felt when it came to talk about sex.  

“Have sex?” He finished the sentence for her, chuckling against her tender, porcelain-like skin, an arousing contrast to his darker one. “Yep. If your pregnancy is safe- and your doctor did say everything was all right  and going as it was supposed to- sex’s good pretty much ‘til your water breaks. Unless rough sex is your thing- in that case, that’s no Bueno. But, if you think you can handle some vanilla, and a bit of this…” he said, groaning as he cupped her mound through the lace and squeezed her breast once more, his thumb and index finger squeezing the sensible nipple, sending jolts of electricity through her whole being, directly to her sex. “… then, sweetheart, I’m all in.”

“Yeah?” She moaned, her eyes closed in bliss as Chris kept gently exploring her sex, his other hand still rough enough with her breast- enough to stimulate her, but not to hurt the fragile bud, getting ready to feed her child in a few weeks’ time.

“Yeah….” He breathed hard against her neck. Georgie could barely stand; she leaned over him fully, and gasped, in both surprise and anticipation, and moaned as she felt his hard desire pressing against the small of her back, demanding, hot, ready to unleash the hurricane of emotions that Chris had kept hidden for far too long. Her moans and her purring instigated the young man furthermore, and Chris pressed his hands, hard, strong, against the parts of her body they were exploring. He had no mercy for her, letting her know with his touch what he had craved, what he wanted for and from her.

“Mmmmm…” she purred, breathing hard as he kept titillating her nipple, his palm squeezing the flash of her breast as his life was depending on it. “And here I thought you were a legs man….” She giggled as he laughed against the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his happiness radiating from his whole being, making her shiver. She felt like crying- she had wanted this for so long, and yet, she had always denied the pleasure of loving Christopher LaSalle, both in body and soul. She thought she couldn’t trust men any longer, but there was a small part of her who wanted to believe Chris and his promises. She could allow herself this love- and could give Chris, in return, all the love such a good man deserved.

“Your heels, they kill me, sweetheart. But…” He moaned as he bit the tender skin yet again, his touch on her breast firmer and firmer as he moved his hips arching closer to her, his sex pressing hard against her own body, as his thumb pressed, insistent, against her clit, making her gasp, her eyes wide open as she felt her legs giving up and trembling, foretasting the pleasure to come.  “But it’s imagining you, naked, lost in bliss as you ride me that keeps me awake at night.” He pressed himself even more against her, like to make a point- like to make her understand how hard she made him- and from how long.

“I remember when we went undercover to that club, back when we first met, it was one of our early cases together… you were wearing your leather jacket, and underneath it, a little red dress. It was so tight, and there was so little fabric, that I could practically picture you naked… I spent the entire evening hard, fantasizing about the two of us hiding in a dark corner, and taking you slowly, against a wall, your legs around my waist, without taking one single item of clothing off…”

She chuckled, purring shamelessly and arching against his body as Chris upped the game; his thumb still pressing against her clit, circling it, he inserted first one, and then a second finger in her canal, finding her wet and ready for him.

He opened his mouth as to speak, keeping his fingers still in her welcoming heat; he wanted to be a naughty boy, wanted to tell her how badly he wanted her,  what he wanted to do to her, and wanted so badly to ask her how came she was already so wet, so exited-  even if he could guess the answer- but she outran him.

“The tie.” She moaned, gasped, as he arched his fingers in her with a come hitcher movement, and she rubbed herself shamelessly against his hardness.

Chris chuckled against her skin, tenderly kissing her sweet spot on the neck; he had always suspected that she liked her men well dressed- and had been almost positive that seeing him all dressed up and pristine was a sort of turn on- but now he knew for sure. Besides, just hearing the word “tie” made him wonder what sort of games they could play together, how much they explore and experiment together. Now, with the baby coming in a matter of weeks, wasn’t a good time, but now that he had her, he wasn’t planning on letting it go of Georgie ever again.

Slowly and methodically, he started to move his fingers in and out of her, never stopping to stimulate delicately her clit;  the other hand let it go of her breast, and he simply embraced her, circled her frame as he leaned over her, and she tentatively went on tip-toes; they kissed- of a sensual kiss that had no hurry, but it was sensual and filled with hunger for each other. It was like, as he was exploring her, they were breathing the same air, like in sync.

He didn’t need to ask her if she liked what he was doing, for how responsive to his touch was, it was speaking volumes. But, she seemed a vocal woman- or at least, she liked to listen to him  dirty-talking his way into her good graces- so he knew that he was going to do this again. One day. Making her come with just the sound of his voice, just by describing what he’d like to do to her, no touch whatsoever needed..

Like a flower suddenly blooming, she felt heat and current running though her whole being as he did something particularly wicked with his very talented hands; she gasped, her eyes wide open, seeing red and orange and bright lights all over, as she went limb in his arms, only Chris’ hold preventing her from falling on the cold floor.

“Are you all right? Is it… are you good?” He asked frantically; slowly, he drove them to sit on the floor, and he positioned themselves so that they were looking each other in the eyes, and that her back was against the cold door of the fridge; she was smiling and laughing, out of breath, her cheeks red, her eyes shiny, hair messy. She still had her pants half-unbuttoned, and  her top lifted on one side, leaving a naked breast free to his sight.

She was beautiful.

And he had done this. It was all because of him.

Looking at him mischievously, she peeled off with her feet her right shoe; she wasn’t wearing any socks, and he could see her small toenails perfectly manicured, painted of a bright Christmas Red; she had a small tattoo on her ankle, and he wondered if it was because she wasn’t the perfect good girl people thought she was, or had been her way to rebel to the military life.

“What are you thinking about, Miss Newman?” He asked her, chuckling, his back against the legs of a chair.

“I’m thinking  many things. For example, that you are very good with your hands. And that…” Georgie meowed as she chuckled, shaking her head, and her foot- one of those feet Chris liked so much-  went to work- not slowly, but right where she wanted it to be. She rubbed his sex through the clothes, stimulating him with her toes, and, biting her lips, she moaned at semi-closed eyes as she felt him harden furthermore at her touch.. “turnabout is fair play.”

Chris sighed in pleasure, rolling his head slightly to the side, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the pleasure she was giving him; his pants still closed, the pressure, the built-up, they were killing him, and yet he didn’t care, he would have gladly came in his pants, because what she was doing, it was pure heaven. It wasn’t just how she was touching him- even if he was a goner for her feet- but because it was her touch. And because it had been too long.

When she had come back one year before, he already wasn’t sleeping around any longer, but he hadn’t been a saint either- his dates between the sheets were just a little less frequent, a little bit more meaningful. But then she had waltzed back in his life, and he had decided she would have been the one and only for him; pleasure hadn’t been a stranger, of course- but the only touch he had known in those last few months had been his own, late at night, when he was alone in his bed, or in the early mornings, with the semi-cold water of the shower cascading over his chiseled body.

“You don’t have to…” He whispered between moans, keeping his eyes closed, as they were sensitive to the light.

He heard her tsk-tsk, and nothing else, like she too wanted to concentrate all of herself, all of her senses, on him, and on pleasuring him.


And then, suddenly, just as it had started, it all finished. But not because his body had betrayed him- but because he felt the sudden lack of her heat, of her touch; quizzically, Chris opened his eyes, and looked around, lost, arching his lifted eyebrows.

She wasn’t in the room any longer, but as he looked around, he noticed a bright red spot of something, that, at a careful study, he discovered being her sweater; he stood up on tentative legs, and, once retrieved the item of clothing, he noticed that Georgie had left a trail for him to follow- her jeans, and then two small azure piles that were her chic (and definitely not cheap) French Lingerie.

He followed that path she had marked for him, and found Georgie laying down on her couch, completely naked; her breasts were heaving, ready to welcome her child- the same unborn child that was filling her swollen belly. She smiled lazily at him- the kind of smile people reserved for their lovers, when they would wake up in the morning to them- as she tentatively skimmed over her sex with her fingertips.

He smiled at her, feeling his eyes filled with tears as he cupped her baby bump, wondering  what ifs and buts; sitting on the side of the couch, he leaned over her, and joined their lips; he took his time, they both did, as they slowly and lazily kissed, like they had all the time in the world. Their bodies weren’t touching in any way, if not for his hand on her belly and their lips.

Georgie, suddenly, put and hand on his chin, and forced him to part with her; Chris looked at her, filled with hunger and desire, his lips nipping at the tender fingertip that had been in her sex; he savored her for the first time- the first of many, he hoped- and he did so while looking at her in the eyes.

“Sit.” She said, pushing him furthermore away from her; Georgie stood, and leaned over him, joining their lips once more as her hands explored Chris’ body, her polished fingernails scratched his sun-kissed skin making him shiver; she parted from him, and looked at Chris with affection and devotion, running an hand through her reddish mane; then, without waiting for him to say anything, without actually telling Chris anything, she grabbed the hem of his polo shirt, and yanked it off; Chris didn’t mind it- he actually helped her out, and he did so yet again when she moved to his pants and then his black thigh boxer briefs, allowing his hardness to finally sprang free, liberated from the uncomfortable confines of his already forgotten clothing.

“Georgie, you don’t have to…”  He said, gulping down a mouthful of saliva as he looked at her kneeling right before him, sitting on her heels with her legs slightly parted; the lights were all off, and what little illumination they had was coming from the streets; they were in silence, there was no noise in the room, saved for Chris’ labored breathing, and their soundtrack was the music that filled New Orleans 24/7, 365 days each and every year.

Her head hovering over his member, he couldn’t stop looking at her, his mouth slightly open in awe of her beauty, of the love he felt for her; he gasped, holding still for her, as the tip of Georgie’s pink tongue licked masterfully his head, enjoying the liquid leaking from it, sighing and moaning as she felt her whole being filled by his taste alone. Chris closed his eyes then, trying to breath past the pressure already building up; she licked him once more, then twice, quickly, before parting from him.

“More.” She breathed over his groin, kissing his length open-mouthed, watching Chris through her lashes as he carefully wrapped her hair around his fist. She opened her mouth for him, and she saw hot approval in his eyes as he rubbed himself against her open lips. Groaning, she slid her tongue under him, trying to draw him in. Chris pushed in a little, but slowly pulled back, leaving her whimpering for more. He held her still for the hair, and he stroked himself, only the head of his cock pressed to her tongue, her mouth eager and open for him. When she felt Chris’ hold getting stronger, she sighed and pressed her tongue tighter to him. Grunting, he held her still as he came, pumping himself on her pretty dark red lips.

“Jesus Christ…” He groaned, out of breath, an arm covering his burning eyes, as he fell beck against the couch; on the floor, Georgie sat, looking all smug and arrogant, a proud expression gracing her features as she tsk-tsked him, like to say that he hadn’t seen anything yet.

“Oh, here, here, here… I made the prim and proper Special Agent Christopher LaSalle swear…”

Chris smiled, chuckling as he shook his head, his whole being filled by his laughter. “Me? Prim and proper? I think you picked the wrong LaSalle brother, honey… ‘cause if you knew me, you’d never call me anything like prim or proper.” He said with his thick southern accent.

But, suddenly changing expression, becoming serious and yet sweet and full of affection, Georgie shook her head. “No, “ She said, as she stood up in all her naked glory and offered him her hand to take. “I know you, Chris. That’s the whole point of this.”

Chris didn’t answer; he didn’t need to add anything to what she had just said; taking her hand in his own, he gently kissed her knuckled, then, he stood up, and never letting it go of her, he followed her. They quietly and slowly walked the rooms and the corridors of her place, with Chris nuzzling her skin and Georgie leaning on him every now and then; the smile never left his lips, the happiness, a sense of fulfillment that he had never felt before radiating from him.

When they reached her bed, he tenderly kissed her lips, just one timer, and then he took her petite frame in his arms, allowing Georgie to feel protected, to feel safe, for the first time in a long time.

They fell asleep with the moonlight kissing their sweated skins, and their ears filled with the sound of the lively Christmas music coming from the streets of New Orleans.