Chapter 14
"That was so beyond unnecessary!" She muttered forcefully under her breath as soon as they stepped out into the street.
"Nonsense, it was completely necessary. It would be extremely impolite not to extend Harper an invitation to have lunch together, the food had just arrived."
The teasing intonation in his voice irritated Watson just enough for her to speed up her walk, weaving through the foot traffic. Chinatown on a Sunday afternoon was horribly busy. Passersby had little appreciation or understanding for leisurely strolls, and if she wasn't so bothered by what had just occurred, she would find it funny to watch Turner make his way through the swarm of people in an effort to catch up with her.
"You didn't have to be so cordial. It's not like Sam was particularly excited about it."
He finally caught up with her at a red light and Watson cast a look in his direction, finding him slightly out of breath. The sight softened her a bit and Turner seems to pick up on it.
"No, he didn't, but his lovely wife welcomed the opportunity, so why not."
He coaxed another involuntary smile from her, but as soon as the crosswalk light turned green, she walked away again, drifting in the crowd of people. This time, Turner strolled as pleasantly as possible, no longer as worried about Watson being actually upset with him as he was before.
Even though she was reluctant to meet his eye and had flinched away twice from his touch, her eyes were not as cold as they were when she was actually upset with him that afternoon in the jail cell and every day after that until they reconciled.
Instead, her green eyes retained their sparkle and he knew she was avoiding physical touch, because Harper's appearance reminded her that their relationship was still a secret. It was perhaps the worst kept secret in all of PPB, but a secret nonetheless; and Turner knew that she may not be ready for that to change just yet.
He caught up to her again and touched her shoulder. She didn’t flinch this time but her weary stare didn’t fade, "Come on Eric, you could't possibly make me believe that you didn't get some sick joy out of that."
Turner pretended to be shocked, placing his hand on his chest for extra emphasis, "You wound me. Why would I get any sort of pleasure out of making Harper uncomfortable by chatting up his lovely wife? Who do you think I am?"
Watson rolled her eyes, her lips twitched upward from the sheer absurdity of his comment. Turner lauged softly, "Oh, I could't help it that the man hates me and his wife now wants to trade cookie recipes with me."
"Right," Watson shook her head in exasperation, "As if Sam didn’t have a reason not to dislike you. You broke into his office and tried to steal his work files."
"It's not like I didn't ask for them first."
His voice trailed off while he shrugged innocently, and Watson let out a noise akin to a growl. Turner wanted to tell her how adorably cute she was when she was angry, but the flash of fire in her green eyes deterred him.
"Natalie…"
"Keys please." She stared him down in defiance and Turner was keenly aware that he was slightly intimidated by a woman a foot shorter than him. He didn’t have to oblige, he could have continued to tease her incessantly to wear her down. When she was just his boss and he was just her advisor, he probably would have, but now it was different.
Now that they were in a relationship, Turner realized how careful he had to be, how sometimes going against his very nature was almost as crucial to making things work between them as accepting his past would be. Although he wasn't completely certain he would ever master the latter, he relinquished the keys effortlessly, because the subsequent smile on Watson's face and her slightly more relaxed body language were worth more than his thirst for triumph.
It was a simple action, but it caught her off guard. Watson was obviously surprised by how quickly he conceded. Turner just smiled to himself, glad that he could still surprise her in a good way from time to time. The car ride was silent, but not uncomfortable. Watson stold periodic glances at Turner, knowing that he hated silence and preferred commotion and noise over perfect stillness and quietude. He didn’t even fiddle with the radio as he usually would or keep pressing various buttons to irritate whoever the unlucky driver was, usually herself. Instead, he stared out the window, a contemplative look on his face.
She wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but returned her attention to the road, the act of driving relaxed her considerably and gave her a chance to reflect on the crazy turn of events. Seeing Harper so unexpectedly at first had given her a distinct feeling of dread. His narrowed glances in her direction all the way through lunch made Watson feel like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
She really despised when Sam looks at her like that, as if he was somehow disappointed with her. Perhaps that's why she had always been so adamant about keeping her relationship with Turner out of the office, because she didn’t need those disapproving glances or anyone questioning her credibility, both as an officer of the law and as an individual.
Turner never made her feel that way. What had endeared him to her over the years, what had made her suffer through each and every one of his antics, was the simple notion that he viewed as an equal. He may not agree with her method of solving cases, and he was always against anything involving rules or boundaries, but he respected her. Up until now, she wasn't sure if he was merely giving her the impression that he thought this way of her, but ever since he worked his way into her heart, he has proven that she wasn’t just someone he could use and discard.
Today, in his own weird way, Turner proved to her that he did respect and understand her. The lunch could have been much worse. Turner could have used everything at his disposal to make the situation awkward for her. He could have made references, asked Julia inappropriate questions, made Harper as uncomfortable as ever, but he didn't. He still managed to hover more than usual and make suggestive comments that made her blush into her tea, but he still watched for any sign of true discomfort and annoyance from her, which Watson noted right away.
She also noticed Harper watching them, their every move and interaction. His critical eye did not escape her and perhaps that's what unnerved her more than Turner's precarious attitude. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting Harper's reaction to be in regards to her relationship with Turner, but she'd never truly entertained the thought, never realized there was a possibility of them meeting unexpectedly outside work and her confronting the situation unprepared.
It's quite ironic to her actually. She's fought so hard to keep her personal life out of the workplace that she forgot her coworkers existed outside the PPB walls too. This gave Watson an uneasy feeling, but only because when confronted with the situation, her first instinct hadn't been to run away from Sam's prying eye or to shy away from Turner. Rather, it was to mediate whatever conflict would emerge between the two. However, she never even considered denying her involvement with Turner or being ashamed of it.
The thought itself made her smile, a small shiver traveling down her spine to settle deep in her belly. It seemed that Eric had slowly begun to change how she thought about certain things in her life. Although it should have terrified her that Turner was partially disabling her defenses and forcing her to face her fears, she felt exhilarated by it. The revelation caused her to let out an involuntary chuckle, jolting the reclined advisor.
"Should I assume that that adorable laugh of yours is an olive branch?"
He looked like his usual insufferable self, putting on the air of calm and cool, the corner of his mouth turned up and his blue eyes watching her with interest. She should be the responsible and mature adult, be honest about her feelings and let him know that maybe her irritation with him was a bit misplaced. Then again, seeing the know-it-all advisor stare at her in confusion was too entertaining an opportunity to pass up.
She fixed him with a stern look, green eyes narrowed at him in feigned disbelief, pretending to still be upset with him.
"Okay, I'll take that as no", Turner declared in a somewhat defeated tone, before pouting like a child again and looking out the window. Watson smirked to herself.
Watson thought she had mentally exhausted Turner by the time they arrived back at her place, but he got out of the car with a smile and helped her with her bags without saying a word. He walked into her kitchen intent on making tea right away.
She hung up her jacket and switched on the lights, watching him as he filled her ancient kettle with water, bypassing the new electric one her aunt sent her for Christmas last year. He preferred to boil tea the old-fashioned way.
She had seen him prepare tea a dozen times, but never got tired of watching him, especially since he had become as familiar as he had with her kitchen. He took out his customary tea cup and tea packet from their respective cupboards without much thought.
Watson got so lost in admiring his movements, she didn’t even realize he was finished until he brushed past her on his way to her couch, grabbing the remote and putting his feet up on the coffee table in an almost defiant way, a clear message that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Watson rolled her eyes as he took a satisfied sip from his tea and watched her intently, wondering if her resolve had weakened. She merely gave him an exasperated sigh in return, maintaining the pretense.
"I'll be upstairs doing laundry".
Before Turner could object, she walked upstairs, reminding herself to hide the small bag from the antique store somewhere away from Turner's curious eyes.
Over an hour and two loads of laundry later, Watson realized the apartment was eerily quiet. She no longer heard the muted noise coming from the television or the occasional rustling in the kitchen. It made her slightly uneasy and suspicious, particularly because Turner had made himself incredibly scarce, not even venturing into the laundry room to see what she was up to. His unusual restraint of curiosity forced her to drop the t-shirt she was folding and padded into the hallway.
She peered over the edge of her stairs, finding the living room and kitchen empty, the television on mute and a single teacup on the coffee table. She went back into the hallway, this time not missing the light coming from behind the closed bathroom door.
She walked up to it and raised her hand to knock, but the door swung open before she could. It revealed Turner on the other side, smiling widely at her, obviously having anticipated her arrival.
"What are you doing in here?” Watson asked with her hands crossed over her chest, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. Turner leaned luxuriously against the doorframe, his usual smirk and all knowing glance in place.
"You know it's not fair to pretend being upset with me for so long. It wounds my ego."
For a second, she pretended not to know what he's talking about but when he fixed her with a pointed stare, she sighed, "Well what gave me away?"
"Aside from the fact that you could never stay mad at me for too long, I know you would never ever leave me to my own devices if you were truly upset. Fortunately for you, I realized this a little too late and had already prepared my apology to you."
He moved away from the doorframe and Watson just smiled at him as she peered inside.
"You drew me a bath?" she raised her eyebrow at him, but couldn't hide her excitement. She had never really told him how much she enjoyed taking baths. Then again, Watson wasn't surprised that he already knew. He probably caught on when he saw the four different types of bath salts in her medicine cabinet and a similar variety of bubble baths.
Turner nodded and let her step into the steamy bathroom. She inhaled the soothing floral scent emanating from the tub and it relaxed her instantly. She didn’t turn around when she felt strong arms wrap around her waist and a soft kiss on her neck. She reached back and ran her fingers affectionately through Turner's curls, a guilty pleasure of hers that was not so secret anymore.
The low rumble of his laugh makes her smile, "So, do you accept my apology then?"
"Yeah," Watson replied, finally stepping away from him to take off her shirt. "And since you worked so hard, I think you should join me." Her green eyes sparkled mischievously and Turner just laughed as he shut the door.
"Now that's a peace offering I can't refuse."
The warm, soapy water and therapeutic aroma of her favorite bath salts were usually enough to release any tension in her body. However, add the soft but encompassing body she reclined against and she thought this is was close to heaven as one could get.
Resting her head against Turner's torso, Watson let herself finally relax, her body completely submerged under a plain of bubbles and her limbs intertwined with the man behind her. His arms wrapped around her waist and he occasionally tickled her sides in an effort to keep her awake.
Her soft chuckle echoed off the walls every time Turner's fingers traced over a particularly sensitive spot. She thought more than once about retaliating, but the relaxation in her muscles didn’t allow more motion than was required to sit comfortably in her soapy-water-Turner cocoon, thinking about nothing and everything at once.
Turner watched as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through the surface of the bath. He ran his hands up her shoulders and realized that the water had cooled and there were goosebumps all over her soft, supple skin.
Although the bath was an effort on his part to help her relax and enjoy herself, when Watson shifted and created a delicious friction in her movement, Turner was reminded that above all he was a man. In addition to melting his slightly ragged heart, this petite brunette had the effect of a resuscitator on his senses, sparking a fire in him that reminded him of the most primitive pleasure known to man.
"You want to get out of here. The water is getting cold." He murmured against her neck, unable to resist dropping a kiss on her freckled skin.
"Mmm, just a little longer, it feels so good."
His mind was already clouded by a growing arousal, but paired with her soft breathy voice, it was a deadly combination. He could't see her face, but was almost certain that, judging by her languid movement, Watson had absolutely no idea what she was doing to him.
Turner tried to be respectful, not too forward, still treading carefully, but his hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they dipped below her waist and traced over her navel, before descending.
Her sharp intake of breath alerted him to her awareness, but since she didn’t stop him, neither did he stop his movements. He moved his other hand to her torso, tracing the underside of her breast, fingers ghosting over sensitive flesh as he continued his attentions.
When his other hand disappeared between her thighs, Watson suddenly feels like she was weightless, body anchored by the hands roaming over her skin and the water rippling slowly around her. She didn’t think, didn’t focus on anything, her mind completely blank as familiar sensations overwhelmed her senses.
One hand instinctively clutched onto the rim of the tub, trying to brace herself against the heat building in her belly, as her body reacted to Turner's touch, one that she has known for some time now, but had never grown accustomed to.
It was as if with every time he touched her, he found a new untapped nerve, a new way to tease and torment her, leaving her completely defenseless against his seduction and with no desire to fight him.
Her heartbeat jumped and she felt Turner's ragged breath in her ear as his mouth travelled over her neck, settling on her pulse point; gentle bites to her skin making her back arch and her entire frame shake, creating tiny waves around them.
Her movements became more involuntary; she was simply responding to his strokes. With every shift of her body, Turner shivered, seduced involuntarily by the sensuous and gyrating movement of her body against his.
The soft sounds from her lips and the rise of a blush over her cheeks spurned him on, hands working in tandem with his lips as he spilled kisses on her shoulders, grunts muted by her skin as she spasmed against him, her release quickly approaching.
Watson felt the pressure build and found herself unable to stop it. She was powerless against the gentle licks of fire that moved across her skin, found no inner resistance against the anticipation building inside her.
When she felt herself edge closer, her hand instinctively sought out the soft mess of curls behind her and she tilted her head just enough to meet Turner in a bruising kiss. Her moans were silenced by his tongue as waves of pleasure coursed through her body while his strong arms kept her warm as the jolts of bliss subsided.
They didn’t stop kissing for a while after, lips meeting in a prolonged languid embrace as Turner twisted her around in his arms, her slippery flesh making him moan.
Eventually, Watson opened her eyes, breathing in deeply as she rested her forehead against his, the cold water no longer an issue as she stared into the deep blueness of his eyes, surprised to find behind the glint of lust an intensity that made her swallow.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, the slightly rounded tub allowed Watson to straddle his lap. He didn’t rush her, didn’t arch his hips to meet hers, even though the ache building inside him was becoming difficult to control. He groaned against her skin though, running his hands up and down her back, his fingers tracing her spine and leaving shivers in their wake.
There was no urgency in their movements and no words exchanged. Instead Watson moved just a tiny bit closer, until there was no space between them. With painful slowness she sank fully into his lap; a low grunt emanated from him as Turner buried his head in her shoulder.
It didn’t take long for the pressure to build again, but this time Watson watched the man beneath her as they moved together, bodies gyrating to some elusive rhythm neither could identify. The confines of the bathtub did nothing to lessen the intensity of their coupling as Turner matched the motion of Watson's hips with his own thrusts, the push for dominance succumbed to the delicious sensations igniting his nerve endings, making him relinquish control to the woman pressed against him.
Despite her desire to concentrate, to watch Turner when he was at the brink of release and finding him at his sexiest when there were no barriers to hide behind, her orgasm returned with full force, body arching as Watson braced herself against his chest, short nails leaving pink marks on his skin.
The feeling of weightlessness returnd, sensations that drove her to the brink just minutes before reawakened her body once again. This time the knowledge of Turner's impeding release only spurned Watson on. His hands almost bruised the skin of her hips when he jerked upwards one last time, leaving her powerless to stop the heat spreading from her core.
His name rolled off her tongue in the intensity of the moment and it snapped all of Turner's restraint, pushing him over the edge. Pulses of pleasure coursed through every fiber of his being as he held Watson flush against him in an effort to control the almost violent spasms of his body.
Watson held him tightly until she felt him relax against her, his hands no longer clutched her in a death grip, but rather soothing the spots where there will surely be an imprint of his fingers later on. Turner looked up at her apologetically, but Watson just smiled and ran her fingers through his damp curls and leaned in for a gentle kiss.
"I'm sorry." He said softly, kissing the tips of her fingers after they caressed his cheek.
It was obvious his words went beyond the physical aspects of their lovemaking, but Watson refused to have him continue to believe he had anything to apologize for.
"Don't be, you were actually behaving quite well today." She informed him cheekily, hands running up and down his arms in an effort to deter the goosebumps spreading on his skin. Turner cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Your low expectation of me is very inspiring, thank you."
The sarcastic inflection in his tone made Watson giggle and the cold water around them made her shiver, but she made no move to separate from him.
"It's not my fault you act like a five year old most of the time."
"Hey, you're in no position to tease me." Turner threatened, and when Watson fixed him with a challenging stare, he changed their positions stealthily, pinning her beneath him and proceeding to tickle her senseless. He relented for just a moment, but Watson was prepared and flicked some water in his face in retaliation until he moved off her, grinning from the other side of her bathtub.
He looked so carefree, almost childlike, and unburdened by the weight he seems to carry permanently on his chest. Watson committed that image to memory, certain that if she could somehow keep Turner smiling like that, at least every once in a while, then she could handle any judgment or criticism that came her way. In particular, any that have to do with the man in front of her, the one she was certain she was falling in love with...