Fired up

It's gotten difficult ever since Iona Payne. The young woman has completely bewitched his mind and not in the way one would think.
Abigail has been dead for ages now and while Henry 's never felt that connection with another woman again and therefore hasn't engaged into anything remotely close to sex with someone, he's had needs.
He's an old-fashioned guy so solo tours aren't really his thing, but what's the other option? And it's all been enough until a certain blonde reminded him how exciting and passionate sex could be, especially nowadays when people aren't as closed up anymore.

He's been fired up for weeks now, his blood boiling in his veins and the weirdest thing is, he's not having wet, dirty dreams about Iona who at least outwardly resembles Abigail, no. He desires a certain dark haired, sarcastic woman whose innocent touch to his arm has made him almost snap.

Of course he tries to control himself but with each day it's getting more complicated, harder. God, he really needs to stop thinking about this, but he can't, no matter how much he's told himself already he needs to.

Henry figures things have slowly started getting out of control as Jo's been shooting weird looks in his direction all week. She's even asked him three or four times if he was okay and one time she's put her small, soft hand over his forehead, noticing he was heating up. Which kind of made things hotter for him and all he could do to avoid jumping her, was to quickly vanish for the rest of the day and lock himself in his bathroom.

Abraham has noticed his condition as well. Henry doesn't know how his boy feels about him desiring someone who isn't his mother, but Abe only seems to send him amused glances.

Things get worse three weeks after the SM-case because there is a murder connected to a strip club and Henry knows he's doomed the minute Jo picks him up and tells him about the connection. He's glad the victim got killed in his own home and not in the club, but his careful façade is thrown when Hanson comes back from interviewing the club members and tells them he thinks the whole things seems to be about drugs. Reece suggests an undercover mission and Henry feels is world come apart when the natural option is Jo and since Hanson's already known there, Reece tells them with a grin that Jo's "unofficial partner" might be the best choice to be her back up during the mission.

Henry knows he won't be able to control himself for long. When Jo emerges from the ladies room in nothing but black lace that leaves not much to imagination, his mouth goes completely dry and he knows he's in big trouble. Jo blushes and laughs when she sees the look on his face and damn it, he can't even begin to understand what he feels when they're entering the club.
There's possessiveness, lust, fear, anger at everyone who casts a look at Jo's creamy skin and damn, there are way too many looks. He can't help himself and wraps his hand around Jo's mostly naked waist. His fingers touch her skin, her very naked skin and it sends a shock through his entire body. Jo leans into him, the whole right side of her body touching his and he almost wants to freeze the moment so they can stay this way.

He feels the tiny hair on his neck and arms raise even before Jo gets close to his ear and he's almost unable to understand what she's whispering into his ear because of his body's reaction.

"I know this is totally not your style, Henry, but we're going to dance now and you'll be touching me."

Because he's completely fired up, her words need some time before they register in his mind, but when they do, he finds himself already on the dance floor with Jo's butt pressed against his front.
It's some fast pop song which is really something he's rather not listen to, but it causes Jo to move fast against him, making her hot body touch all the right places and Henry feels like he's lost in his own personal hell. Damn.

He can't help himself any longer, bending down and pressing his hungry lips against Jo's soft, delicious neck. He registers her taking in a sharp breath, but she's still relaxed in his arms. He doesn't even know how she ended up in them.

Jo's arm comes up around his neck and she pulls him down, her lips grazing his ear, making him shiver all over again.

"He's here now. Tall, dark and with sunglasses," she whispers and he just nods stupidly because he cannot form any sentences.

Suddenly things start spinning out of control because he hears Jo cursing, and then hastily mumbling something about being caught before she quickly turns around and kisses him. His eyes go wide for a second before they fall shut and he just feels. Henry feels Jo's soft lips, her wet tongue, how the smooth skin of her face feels against his stubby one. He feels how fire runs through his body, igniting every cell of his being with lust and want for her and he loses control over his body, his mind, his actions and later on he will realize he lost control over his carefully protected heart as well.

The kiss is hot and amazing and nothing like he's ever had before. Two centuries or even sixty years ago, sex was different, a lot more private and closed up and in a way not as passionate, certainly not with Nora.
He once thought he loved Nora and felt like his heart being ripped out of his chest when she betrayed him and while he's loved Abigail fiercely, the physical aspect of their relationship was a lot more restraint.

And now, losing himself completely in Jo Mártinez, Henry thinks sex with her will completely kill him. It's a terrifying and yet so very appealing thought and he finds he desperately wants to find out.

Of course the logical part of his mind which is not entirely fogged with arousal tells him he definitely shouldn't come onto Jo since she's his partner and friend who lost her beloved husband not too long ago, but it seems like the rational part of his brain bas been reduced to bits and pieces because later that night he finds himself knocking on Jo's door.

His blood is pulsating wildly, he can feel it in his temples as he waits for her to open up. He knows he really should leave, right now, but he just can't, especially since the universe seems to encourage him because when Jo opens, she's already ready for bed, wearing a black piece of nothing that makes it ridiculously easy to peel her out of it.
It's this tiny black piece of lace that makes him cross every boundary, so he takes a step forward and crashes into her.

She probably doesn't have a clue what's happening, but he just doesn't find himself caring. He's so far away from rationality, common sense and being a gentleman like he'd never have thought, but he's been horny for weeks, hungry for J and her body and mind and god damn it, he wants her so desperately.
He kisses her hard, fast and erotic. Their tongues are fighting and to his delight, Jo wraps her arms around his neck, moaning against his mouth and can't stop his fingers from slowly sliding under the black thing.

"Too many clothes," the detective mumbles hotly against his wet lips, pushing against his coat to pull it off of him.

It doesn't take long until he's only in jeans, his fly open and got her pinned naked against her front door. With an animalistic sound he quickly slides into her wet heat and he's never felt like this. He's fucking her senseless and the best thing is, she likes it. She's moaning his name, clutching at him, always pulling closer, begging for more and harder and it doesn't take long until she clenches around him. Her orgasm hits her hard, shaking her completely and at her clenching, he quickly follows, spilling his stuff deep inside her.

They both are limp and soaked and Henry doesn't quite know how he still finds the strength to hold them both up, but he needs to set her down now. So he does, carefully, his face still against the clammy skin of her neck.

His heart is still beating crazily in his chest and now that his brain has started working again, he doesn't know how to ever face Jo again. What kind of animal is he? He knocks at her house, fucks her senseless against her door without even a word. Oh god! Their partnership, which has been the best thing in his entire work life and nowadays of his personal one too, is ruined.

"Henry?" Jo's quiet voice pulls him out of his self-reprimanding and forces him to finally look at her. Which kind of is a mistake all in itself because she looks sp fuckable that he has to curl his nails into his own hands to prevent himself from reaching out for her again.

Her hair is completely disheveled, her lips are red and swollen, her whole face flushed. He doesn't dare looking lower than her chin.

"I'm sorry," he stutters, "this was completely unacceptable and I totally understand if you hate me now. I cannot even begin to fathom what came over me. I am really sorry, Jo." He feels entirely embarrassed and definitely out of his league, but his blood is still boiling.

Jo's still biting her lips. "Well, while this was sure as hell unexpected, it takes two to tango, Henry."

His eyes widen at that, not quite sure what to say to that. What does it even mean?

He stares as Jo picks up her sleeping assets, putting them, quite modestly, back on.

"Look, Henry," she says, "I like you. You're my partner and while I definitely know neither of us is ready for a relationship, I think I like the direction our partnership seems to be headed. "

Swallowing, Henry finds his voice again. "So what do you suggest?"

She shrugs, blushing again. "That we try to keep going like we did and forget about what just happened right now. And maybe someday, when we're both ready…," she trails off, but what she's trying to say is perfectly clear, so he nods hastily and bends down to pick up his clothes.

He's so lost in thought while he dresses that he doesn't even notice Jo vanishing only to find her reappearing in a robe.

She opens the front door and he slips out, but before he can say anything, Jo smiles at him. "Good night, Henry. See you tomorrow," before closing the door.

As Henry makes his way home, he thinks of her words, of maybe someday and if feels more than exciting and he realizes he's looking forward to someday more than he's ever thought possible. With a smile and a kick in his step, he continues his way home.