TITLE: House Arrest (33/35)
PAIRING: Lindsay/Cindy
DISCLAIMER: Women’s Murder Club does not belong to me. The characters do not belong to me. They are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. I have no problems with that as long as I can borrow them for short bursts and use them in pursuit of my own enjoyment. I am not trying to infringe. Though, I don’t know why anyone has a problem with fan fic. After all, it really is a compliment. If anyone wants to write fan fiction about my book, feel free. 

*finally!*

 (1/04  CINDY’S POV)

She’d lived in her own apartment for months. She’d only stayed at Lindsay’s for three weeks. So why, when she walked through the door, did everything feel so intimately familiar?

Martha came up and nudged at her leg, and Cindy leaned down to pet her.

“Hi girl,” she uttered quietly to the dog, but it was hardly a private moment. When Cindy rose back up, Lindsay was smiling at the both of them.

“Martha,” Lindsay said, and tilted her head toward the bedroom.

Martha dutifully obeyed. Cindy watched her move through the bedroom door with amazement. If this whole police thing fell through, Lindsay clearly had a promising career as a dog trainer.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“I want some beer.”

Lindsay chuckled, shaking her head at the same time. “No.”

“Okay. Then I guess I’ll have coffee,” Cindy amended, and Lindsay walked off into the kitchen, leaving her alone in the living room. A living room that felt way cozier than she wanted to admit.

So, Lindsay’d decided no more alcohol until they’d figured out where they stood. That was fine with her, as long as Lindsay respected her rule of no more sex until she was absolutely sure about the two of them.

Lindsay came back into the room, paused in the doorway, giving Cindy the shy smile that she was so crazy about. Then, she approached slowly, took both of Cindy’s hands in her own and pulled her over to the sofa.

Cindy sat at what she believed to be distance enough, but it didn’t keep Lindsay from resting her arm along the back of the sofa and twirling a piece of Cindy’s hair between her fingers. Damn Amazonian limbs.

“I said a lot in the car. You haven’t said anything,” Lindsay said softly. “That’s quite the change of pace.”

It wasn’t like Cindy had nothing to say. It was just that working through all of it was going to take time. This whole thing required massive amounts of processing. On one hand, it all seemed like some sort of unlikely fantasy scenario she’d somehow made come to pass. On the other, it didn’t seem all that unexpected, because this thing had been coming between them for a long time. She just wished she was convinced of exactly what it was.

“Cindy,” Lindsay whispered.

Cindy took a deep breath to calm her nerves and gathered the courage to look over at her. She took one look into the brown eyes so carefully regarding her and she knew. She just knew. Lindsay was always so guarded, but not in this moment. In this moment, she was an open book and all secrets were written out clearly on its pages.

And just like that, it stopped bothering Cindy that she couldn’t make her greatest gift work in her favor, because words seemed exceedingly unnecessary. Because she knew, she was sure, so the ‘no sex’ rule no longer applied.

She leaned forward and put her lips against Lindsay’s. It was quick and chaste. A test. Just to be absolutely positive. When she pulled back, Lindsay smiled gently at her. It was still there. Still obvious. And, whatever Lindsay may or may not have said or done in leading up to this, Cindy had to admit that she was blind if she didn’t see what Lindsay had been trying to show her. It was so clear now.

She kissed Lindsay again, but there was nothing quick or chaste about it. It was fiery and feral, alluding to the unkeepable promise that it would never end. Lindsay moaned at the touch as if she’d never felt Cindy’s kiss before. And maybe she hadn’t. Not like this.

Cindy pushed up into a kneel, refusing to relinquish contact with Lindsay’s lips as she hiked up her dress to straddle Lindsay’s lap. Her knees sank into the cushions at Lindsay’s back and her body molded down into Lindsay’s, bringing fleeting thoughts of ‘perfect fit’ and ‘two pieces, one puzzle’ to Cindy’s mind. Since her wits were somewhat preoccupied, she didn’t berate herself too harshly for the fact that all of her romantic notions were coming up cliché.

Lindsay’s hands were quick to take advantage of the skin she’d exposed, sliding up her legs, headed toward unspecified destinations. But it wasn’t Lindsay’s turn. Cindy wanted to make that point very clear. She pulled both of Lindsay’s hands away and held them at bay, kissing down Lindsay’s neck. She traced the outline of the necklace around Lindsay’s throat and felt Lindsay’s hard swallow beneath her tongue.

Lindsay’s wrists twitched in her hands with each kiss that trailed lower. This was absolute torture for her. Cindy knew that. No matter what had changed, one thing that hadn’t was Lindsay’s undeniable need for control. So, the way that Cindy positioned her arms when she released Lindsay’s hands had little to do with personal comfort and a lot to do with blocking any efforts by Lindsay to take charge of the situation.

When Cindy reached down between them, Lindsay made her first attempt at doing just that, and was met with nothing but forearms and elbows. Her look said that she knew exactly what Cindy was doing. Cindy half expected to end up on her back in the next moment with a very insistent Lindsay atop her. That wouldn’t have been an entirely undesirable development, but it was still a pleasant surprise when Lindsay relaxed beneath her, and she felt fingertips come to rest against her thighs. Just rest, without any objective.

Lindsay was submitting. To her. Because Lindsay trusted her.

With that knowledge, Cindy continued on her mission of pulling up Lindsay’s dress. Lindsay lifted her hips to help, her eyes locked on Cindy’s, quietly observing. Cindy’s hand found its way beneath the fabric, hesitating for only a moment to really register the stark need in Lindsay’s eyes, before it moved inside Lindsay’s panties. Lindsay gasped as Cindy’s hand masterfully found its target. Her eyes closed, her lips parted on a forceful breath, and Cindy reveled in her ability to have this kind of effect on the habitually unflappable inspector.

She leaned in close, putting her hand on the back of the couch next to Lindsay’s head. Lindsay knew that she was there and opened her eyes. She surged forward and snared Cindy’s lips with her own in a deep, greedy kiss that threatened to consume Cindy whole.

Cindy returned the kiss with equal fervor, and, hoping that Lindsay would continue with her willing submission, shifted her right knee from outside of Lindsay’s leg to between Lindsay’s legs, using it to subtly nudge Lindsay’s knees further apart. Then, she slid her fingers lower and drank in Lindsay’s harsh pants as she slipped inside.

Lindsay arched up off of the couch into her, which had the immediate result of forcing Cindy’s fingers deeper, producing the nearly instantaneous reaction of Lindsay groaning low in her throat and digging her fingernails into the skin of Cindy’s thigh. But to her credit, Lindsay still managed to remain, for the most part, compliant. Her left hand did drift to the back of the Cindy’s arm as if to keep her from pulling away.

But pulling away was the last thing Cindy had any impulse to do. Staying exactly where she was for eternity was more in line with her current mode of thinking. When Lindsay’s eyes opened and stared into hers, she had the impression that Lindsay might allow her to, wanted her to even.

Despite her laborious attempts at breathing, Lindsay kissed her. She brought her lips to Cindy’s again and again in gentle convergence, until necessity forced her to stop. Her breath hitched in her chest, her hand tightened on Cindy’s arm, and her entire body started to tremble. Her eyes stayed open, locked with Cindy’s, until the rush passed over her and she was left serenely immobile.

For about thirty seconds.

Cindy’s fingers started moving again, and Lindsay’s eyes expressed surprise and warning, neither of which Cindy chose to acknowledge. Lindsay’s hand moved from the back to the front of Cindy’s bicep, then to the back again, like she didn’t know whether she should impede or assist. In the end, her hand just rested in a neutral position, neither a help nor a hindrance. Her head lolled back against the cushion and her eyes drifted closed, giving Cindy the rare opportunity to examine her openly.

So Cindy did. She studied the contours of Lindsay’s face, the length of her eyelashes, the slight indentations beneath each cheekbone. She watched Lindsay’s slightly parted lips struggle to draw in and expel oxygen, then watched them come together as Lindsay’s jaw clenched. This was Lindsay’s tell.

Lindsay wrenched forward, her forehead making fairly solid contact with Cindy’s shoulder, her hand clutching tightly to Cindy’s arm.

“Jesus Christ,” she panted when she could form words, and loosened her grip.

Cindy smirked, but only for a split second, before Lindsay’s hand trailed up to her shoulder and Lindsay’s face turned into her neck, and the closeness felt significantly more important than the momentary satisfaction of making Lindsay absolutely crazy.

“I love you,” Cindy said softly.

She didn’t actually think that Lindsay had heard her until Lindsay’s head fell back against the cushion again and she smiled up in a way that confirmed that she had.

“Then have my rights and privileges been reinstated?”

If her ability to discern context clues had been properly functioning, Cindy might have understood the question on delivery. As it was, Lindsay had to give her a lopsided grin and offer further explanation.

“Can I touch you now?” Lindsay asked gently.

“I wish you would,” Cindy answered, and Lindsay’s hand slid further up under her dress to rest on her hip.

The other moved up to clasp Cindy’s neck and pull her down into a fierce kiss.

Lindsay eased out of the kiss with a delightful nibble on Cindy’s lower lip and pulled back to look at her.

“I’m glad this is finally happening,” she said in a near whisper.

Lindsay? Candid? Hot.

“Me too,” Cindy returned.

The kiss that earned her? Even hotter.

“Good,” Lindsay mumbled as she pulled away. “Now, let’s go kick Martha out of bed.”