BLURRED LINES

A/N: Again, I have to thank all the fans, readers and reviewers of this story. I really appreciate all your love! I read every last review as it comes in, please know that. I am enjoying this story and have a few one-shots in my brain as well. Hope you all enjoy...oh, and, anyone who doesn't like 3 and a half solid pages of sex might want to skip this chapter! :-o

Chapter 13

Rick doesn't quite know how he got on the floor, back against the sofa, shirt off and Michonne straddling him, but he doesn't really care. He's still dressed from the waist down, Michonne's still in her pink bra and black leggings. They've been kissing and touching and nothing more, yet he already knows this is going to be the best sex of his life. He breaks the kiss and moves his mouth to her neck. She moans, arches into him. She's so receptive to his touch and it drives him wild. It's been years since he's felt that a woman genuinely wants to be with him and not simply going through the motions. He can barely contain himself.

His fingers make quick work of unhooking her bra. It gets tossed to the side. Rick pulls back and looks at her. She regards him, head to the side, eyes sparkling, small smile.

"What?" she whispers.

"You're beautiful."

She dips her head, shyly and whispers thank you. Rick hugs her to him, drops kisses on her shoulder. His heart begins to pound in his chest. He loves her already. Shit, he really does. Something tells him what she's keeping from him is big and will affect the two of them being together. But again, he silences those warning voices. He lays her down on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table. It's a dark little nook that feels like it's just for them. The carpet is thick, but still not as comfortable as a bed. Rick doesn't care.

Michonne's fingers slip into his hair. She pulls his face to hers and kisses him. Her tongue is warm and seeking. Rick feels it right in his groin. He sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, slides a hand up her side and cups one of her breasts. He is rewarded with a soft moan from her that fills his mouth, makes him kiss her deeper.

Rick dips his head and sucks the tip of her left breast, flicks his tongue slowly around the nipple. Michonne's moan deepens. He gives attention to the right breast, filling his mouth with as much as he can. His hand trails down her body, over her small waist, the curve of her hip and between her lean thighs. He cups her warm center, presses the heel of his palm there and rubs it gently, up and down. Michonne thrusts to match Rick's hand movements. He's so ready for this, for her. He feels the heat around his face, neck and chest. He knows he's red, but he doesn't care.

He wriggles his fingers beneath the waist band of her leggings and into her underwear. She is warm and wet and ready for him. Rick kisses her and at the same time, slips a finger inside of her, then two. Michonne breaks the kiss, breathless, moaning. She grips his wrist, keeps his hand where it is, between her legs, fingers deep inside her, thumb rubbing her hypersensitive clitoris. She grinds with his hand movements. He watches her, mesmerized by her fluttering eyes, her partially opened mouth, and the rise and fall of her beautiful breasts.

Her thighs clench around his hand just as he feels her vaginal muscles constrict and then quiver into a silent, breathless orgasm. He could watch that every day of his life, several times a day. Rick gently kisses her lips, throat and breasts as she catches her breath and comes down from her orgasm. He hadn't meant to do that. Past experience has him worried that she will be a one and done. He would hate it if she took pity on him and let him have sex with her when she wasn't really into it anymore because she has already been satisfied.

Slowly, he removes his fingers from inside her. He doesn't rush, but he doesn't waste any time getting into position to remove her leggings. Michonne lifts her hips to assist Rick as he peels her leggings down her body. They get tossed somewhere in the room. Her pink bikini panties cause him to stop and take in the picture before him. Michonne's dark smooth skin is highlighted by the soft color. Her kiss swollen breasts sit up firmly, with taut nipples. Her hair is spread out round her head and her hands rest demurely over her tight abs.

With a smile, she reaches for him. Rick leans over and kisses her softly, reverently. He pulls back and slowly slips her panties down her legs. Michonne opens for him. One leg on either side of Rick so he is now in between them on his knees, looking down at her. She sits up, eyes still locked with his. She unbuttons his jeans, slides down the zipper, frees his erection.

Rick closes his eyes as she strokes him. Her slim hands are warm and soft. A moan slips from his lips as her tongue runs up the shaft, circles the rim. She sucks the tip of his penis into her mouth, twirls her tongue in a way that makes Rick grunt and grip her shoulders. Michonne takes him fully into her mouth, and begins a slow, methodic rhythm of sucking him. It's been so long, and she's good. She doesn't suck him like it's a means to an end, like she's just trying to get it over with. She enjoys this. He can't take his eyes off her. He touches her face, the back of her neck, her shoulders, wherever he can. Her hands slide up his chest, caressing. Rick takes one, brings his mouth to the palm and kisses it. Suddenly, he sees it. This, just like this. Their home, love and making love in any room they want. He wants that so badly.

Michonne pulls back, strokes his slick cock with her hands…a sliding, twisting motion that takes him by surprise. It feels so good he doesn't recognize how close he is until his body jerks and he is spilling all over Michonne's hands.

"Shit," is all he can say as his penis continues to spurt onto Michonne's chest. She doesn't loosen her grip until he is spent. Rick sits back on his haunches, jeans still around his hips and a mess in his lap. Michonne rises, kisses his lips then cleans herself off with Rick's t-shirt.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I feel like a teenager. It's…it's been a while since…"

"I know." She touches his face. "For me too. But there's nothing wrong with feeling like a teenager, is there? Means you'll be ready to go again soon."

Rick's brows raise. "You aren't done?"

"Are you?"

"No! I mean…I just thought, you know, because you already…and women usually have just one…"

"I'm not even going to ask where you got that ridiculous notion." She leans forward and kisses him. "I can have as many as you can give me," she whispers against his lips and he feels his penis coming back to life.

"Good." His tongue is in her mouth now and he eases her back to the floor.

Rick wriggles out of his jeans, kicking them off his legs as he kisses down Michonne's body. He traces her navel with his tongue, dips lower to her hip bones and then kisses his way to her warm center. He slips his tongue between her slick folds and gently sucks her clitoris. Michonne rolls her hips, moans, grips Ricks hair. He works her sex with his mouth, loving, licking and sucking her into a frenzy. The more she writhes, the harder his cock gets.

He shoves the coffee table out of the way. It slides across the floor and bangs against the hearth. Rick rolls over on his back, pulls Michonne with him so she is now straddling his face. He grips her hips, pulls her hot center to his mouth and goes to work. Michonne tips forward, her hands land on the floor, palms down, head thrown back. Rick has two handfuls of her ass. He squeezes as he sucks her into submission. He thinks she is close to coming again, but before she does, she lifts her hips and scoots down his body. With ease, Michonne slowly fills herself with Rick's thick erection.

For an instant, they simply stare at each other, mouths slightly open, eyes wide. Rick is certain their thoughts are united. One night will never be enough. And then she starts moving. Just a slow circle of her hips that makes Rick's breath hitch and his eyes roll in his head. He starts to meet her movements with his own, controlling the rhythm. His hands close around her waist, almost meeting. She tosses her head back, arches and grinds him like a cowgirl on a wild horse.

Rick can feel his orgasm building, feel the blood draining from every other part of his body, heading straight for his cock. He rolls Michonne over, seats himself deeply inside her and pumps with all he has. Her legs are wide. Rick grips them right under her knees, holds them open. They stare at each other. Mouth to mouth. Nose to nose. Michonne's orgasm hits her in waves that makes her pelvis jerk and a high-pitched keening to explode from her throat. Rick erupts so violently that he can't move. Muscles lock, breathing arrests. He is all but paralyzed as he empties into her warmth. His ejaculation is so intense, he gets an instant headache.

Slowly, his muscles begin to relax. He can breathe again, but he doesn't move. He can't move. He's relieved when Michonne wraps her arms and legs around him. She doesn't want him to move. So, he stays there, on top of her, inside of her, trying to regulate his breathing and the pounding in his head. This is it for him. He knows now without a doubt that he will never want any other woman. It both excites him and terrifies him. She has all the power. He has given away his heart and power before and it nearly killed him. What he felt then was merely a fraction to what he feels now. Michonne has the power to completely level him. Before he can allow that realization to totally mind-fuck him, Rick slips into a deep sleep.

Later that night, he wakens to the warm softness of Michonne's body nestled close to him. They lay under a throw blanket and he is spooned up behind her. He wakes her with kisses to her shoulder and a hand gently caressing her breast. She arches with a yawn, pressing her backside into his growing erection.

"What are you doing?"

He can hear the smile in her voice so he whispers. "You said tonight only. The night's not over."

"It isn't, is it."

"Nope."

They laugh softly as Rick enters her from behind.

**The next morning**

Michonne leaves Rick asleep in the bed. Sometime during the night, they made it upstairs, into bed and had each other several more times. God, the man was insatiable, but they match. She wanted him last night just as much as he wanted her. Every time. What has she done? She should have never touched him. She can't be what he needs, what he deserves. Last night was the epitome of selfishness on her part.

She hurries down the steps, shame chasing her out the front door. She wishes she could hop in her car, drive away and never look back, but she can't. This case…she has to see it through. So for right now, she can delay seeing Rick. Put off the inevitable talk he's going to want to have with her. The questions. The confusion. She hopes he doesn't plead. She may not be able to resist Rick pleading with her. But she can't be with him. She can't do that to him or his beautiful kids who have already been through enough.

As soon as she gets in her car—a clunker they bought in town so she wouldn't need to ride with Rick all the time—her phone rings. It's Abraham, wanting to Face-Time with her. He's down the block in a black van, keeping watch.

"Morning, sunshine!" Abe says, grinning at her from the screen.

"Mornin'."

"Rough night?"

She looks away from the screen. "I'm fine. What's up?"

"Quick question. Do you know what happens when red and blue mix?"

Michonne squints at the screen. "What?"

"Indulge me. What happens when red and blue mix."

"They turn purple," Michonne answers at the edge of her patience. She doesn't know where he's going with this, but she isn't in the mood.

"Exactly! You get purple. So yesterday, I'm just sitting here in this van, monitoring all things on my computer. I track Rick's red GPS dot from Atlanta all the way back here where your blue dot is waiting in the house."

Michonne closes her eyes. She knows where this is going now.

"Imagine my surprise when Rick's red dot gets closer to your blue dot, so close the dots become one purple dot. Do you know how close you have to be to someone for their tracking dot to merge and become one entirely new color? I mean, you damn near gotta be inside that person, Siamese twins, practically, joined at the…genitals maybe?"

Michonne lets out a long sigh. "What is your point, Abe?"

"You two purpled. You two purpled the hell outta each other all fucking night! What are you doing, Michonne?"

"I'm minding my business. You should try it."

"That man just lost his wife. Whether they were on their way to divorce or not, he has the power to hurt you. Hurt you bad. Then I'm gonna have to hurt him. Course, I'm gonna have to get in line behind Daryl and your mama. My point is, I like him. He's a good guy, but I'll kill him dead if he so much as raises his voice to you. I don't want to have to do that, so you need to make sure your eyes are wide open with this, with him."

"You don't have to worry about that, Abe. He's not the problem. I am."

Abraham scrubs a hand over his beard, looks into the phone with mournful eyes. "Listen darlin', I know what last night was. I'd planned to talk to you, come keep you company, but well, you had company."

"I didn't need to talk last night. I needed…I needed to shut out the noise."

"You gotta let somebody in."

"Abe, please. I don't want to talk about this right now. I woke up this morning for the first time in three years without what happened being my first thought. Now, I'm thinking about it." A tear slips down her cheek."

"Aw hell, I'm sorry. Don't cry."

She hears his car door open, sees him move on screen. "Abraham Ford, if you even think about getting out of that van and coming to my car I will shoot you in the foot."

"Okay, okay…I'm staying put. But don't tell Sasha I made you cry. She'll kick my ass."

Michonne smiles, wipes away her tear and puts her car in gear. "I'm gonna go now. I need to get breakfast." She ends the call before for Abe has a chance to say more or to see just how hard she is crying as she pulls away from the curb.

Back at the house, Michonne prepares what she is going to say to Rick. She has gotten out all of her tears and is now ready for any question, any argument he may have as to why they should let last night turn into more than just that.

She finds him in the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt. He's just about to start a pot of coffee when he turns and sees her enter.

"Hey," he says, a small smile on his lips.

"Hey. I ran out to get coffee and bagels. Didn't want to wake you."

"Great. Thanks." He opens the bag and inhales. "These smell great. I'm starved."

She wants to say, 'You worked up an appetite last night,' but she doesn't want to mention what happened until he does. Instead, she smiles and watches him bite into a plain bagel then slurp some coffee. Michonne has a hard time not touching him. She has to grip the back of the kitchen chair to keep from reaching out to him. His hair is damp from his shower. The t-shirt hugs his lean torso and his eyes look extra blue this morning. She wants to sink into his arms, lay her head on his chest and forget about all the pain, all the work, and just be with him.

"Listen," Rick begins, "I was thinking…"

Here we go, Michonne thinks and gets her guard up.

"We've got a long ride to check out this other place Daryl remembers Negan hanging out, I'm gonna take the bike, you go in the car. It's probably best to have two means of transportation."

Michonne's mouth hangs open for a moment. That's not what she thought he'd say so she has to readjust her brain.

"Um…yeah, okay."

"Good." He passes her, about to leave the kitchen.

"So…" Michonne turns. "You don't want to talk about last night?" She hates herself for asking, but she has to.

Rick stops, doesn't turn around but looks at her over his shoulder. "You said one night, you couldn't give more. I have to respect that. So I will…I am." He continues walking, right out the front door.

It takes everything Michonne has in her not to burst into tears. She grabs the bag of bagels, grabs her coffee cup, with a shaking hand, and follows Rick out the front door.