To my readers, this was intended as a one shot in my practice collection and it's my first time writing smut. I am so shy and almost didn't post it, but it's the captain of the ship's birthday for stuff and thangs sake, I had to. Feedback is very much appreciated and it all helps. But please don't be too hard on me. *blushes*

Rick's POV

Baby, this is what you came for...

Bourbon branded a furious path of liquid flame, past greedy lips and down desperate throat, seemingly sent from hell to kindle a temporary comfort deep in the unsettled belly of off-duty officer Rick Grimes. With a broken sigh, he took yet another unnecessarily large and lengthy sip of iced Evan Williams whiskey, inviting the scorching aftereffects that came along with it, his stomach hot with promise. The drink was a sort of... 'melancholy moments only' staple of his, and it was always readily available when Rick felt low enough to consider himself undeserving of top shelf spirits and expensively aged brews.

The loud bar he had chosen for the night was not his usual, nor was it familiar, and it was a bit nobby for his taste, but with the way he was feeling tonight, it would just have to do. Rick had spotted it on numerous occasions during his evening commute, when he was sleepy and homeward bound. It sat tucked away behind blocks and blocks of brick, in the centre of a district on the bustling outskirts of the big city of Atlanta, Georgia. He did not frequent the area, but he was very curious about it.

The type of women that strutted through those few city blocks were both high class and extremely intimidating. And though Rick was awful at all things courting, he had hoped that one day he might be able to strike up a flirtatious conversation with one of those classy women; one so far out of his league that he could learn something new about the dating scene for future (unlikely) reference. He aspired to acquire the courage needed to fulfill that wish someday. Even if it only went as far as an innocent exchange of words, it might provide a much desired boost of morale. He had always been one to look for a glimmer of optimism in anything he encountered.

And now, on a breezy, golden Friday, the night to finally venture into that big, trendy bar had come, though Rick had never imagined it ever really would. He had outright laughed at himself for even considering such a thing, knowing the reality of his reclusive nature.

'The Big Apple' wasn't the type of place he usually spent his time in, but he was delightfully surprised by his ability to relax easily in its environment, despite his typical jumpy and paranoid temperament- despite the newness of it all. He knew for certain, nonetheless, that he didn't want to run into anyone he was personally acquainted with, and when he had originally decided on entering, he had figured that the noisy little club would be the perfect spot to turn his brain off for a bit.

The music was most definitely insufferable at first- boisterous enough to make a down and dolor mood worsen rapidly- but the initial sip of whiskey helped dull the acoustics right away. And soon, Rick was doing precisely what he had been longing to do since high noon. He could drown his sorrows without having to worry about small talk with meaningless people, or dread spotting a familiar face- one that might twist up in judgment towards him for his actions or question his obvious mood. Rick sincerely just was not up for it.

The unforseen events of the day weighed heavily on his mind and on his weary, close-to-collapse heart, and the whiskey and bass-thumping music was only merely quieting the earsplitting thoughts in his head. The fiery brown depressant worked for a few fleeting moments at a time. It was the best he could hope for, he began to tell himself, doubt hastily swooping in. He knew nothing was going to truly ease his mental anguish- nothing except, maybe...?

" Hit me again," Rick called abruptly to the short, big-eyed bartender standing before hi as he downed the entirety of his drink and slammed the glass back onto the counter surface. With clouding eyes he soon found himself drawn back to the red apple that the bouncer had boldly stamped on the back of his right hand. He had liked the way the cold, crimson ink had settled into his weathered skin when he had initially walked in, swaggering past everyone for a dose of that necessary liquid courage at the swanky marbled bar. The raven haired bartender hadn't stopped tossing her hair or flirting with him since he had plopped his tired old rear into a stool, her wiry curls tucked behind her ear in a compulsory way- and so often that it started to look ridiculous.

" Hey now, take it easy, Officer, " she teased, batting her dark eyelashes at him as she filled his glass again slowly. She spilled a bit in her moment of distracted flirtation, her eyes on his low neckline. " This is the last one, okay? How are you gettin' home? " Rick rolled his eyes, an uncommon gesture for him. He soon heard himself mumbling under his breath, drunkenness making him unusually brazen. This woman was trifling. If that was the way young women behaved nowadays, he hadn't much to look forward to. She wasn't making any of this so-called 'harmless flirting' fun. She left much to be desired.

Removing his sheriff's hat with the slightest flourish of irritation, Rick set the piece of garb down in front of him next to his glass, lifting his drink to his mouth again and hesitating to speak as the rim graced his lips. He was beginning to think his objective had been pointless and absurd. He was a fool if he thought he would be any good at flirting back.

" I'll be just fine, " he replied into his cup indignantly. The young woman leaned into the half attempt at communication and propped an elbow up on the counter, clearly intrigued by small talk.

" You sure? " she pushed on. Rick chewed at the inside of his cheek, which was already raw from the day's stresses. This woman was still flirting shamelessly with him for some reason, even though Rick knew his eyes and face were void of glow and genuine feeling. He was hiding behind his mask again... just like he always had been. And as single and lonely as Rick was lately, he knew that he was not at all interested.

His luck with women had been downright horrific in the recent months. And his motivation was in much worse shape. Rick changed his mind altogether in one moment. He decided right then and there that he wasn't even going to bother wasting his time and using it to flirt back- not as practice for the future or otherwise. Who had he been fooling?! He would make an ass of himself or he would lead a woman on that he had no intention of dating, let alone conversing with or looking at. He was peeved- again.

He shook his head and downed another hefty sip, smacking his lips and running his tongue over a scurrying drop of caramel liquor trying its best to trickle into his ever-growing facial hair. With a sharp inhale, he pursed his lips and exhaled a rush of vapor, the bourbon further warming the depths of his empty belly. He could feel his inebreation plateau. Rick belched unabashedly and let a smirk curl its way onto the corner of his mouth. Though all else had seemed to fail, at least he had managed to intoxicate himself.

Suddenly, and with excessive eagerness, Rick's phone buzzed and vibrated from in his back pocket. His smirk faded away as quickly as it had appeared. He ignored the notification entirely, though a part of him pondered for a minute or two who it might be bothering him at such an hour. After glancing up and looking outside, he realized that he had been sitting there for a much longer time than he intended. Perhaps he was more tired than he anticipated. And with the moon competing for the stage with the sun now, he should have figured that the people in his life were wondering what was going on with him. His face was most likely plastered all over the television news.

His ex-girlfriend spent a lot of her time blowing up his phone with desperate texts, begging for second chances and third dates for months on end. Rick refused to respond, growing tired of it all, but she had yet to take the hint. And in addition to the nuisance of old relationships, his ex-wife had also been calling him constantly- to nag, to talk of custody battles and arranged visits; their only topics of conversation- and Rick had no desire whatsoever to address either caller.

He wanted nothing to do with either of them. Women in general were not on his mind or his agenda- not when they were causing him so much unnecessary grief. He had only entertained the thought of dating during his sobfest on the way home. He was already suffering so immensely. It had been idiotic to think that he even had the balls to strike up some banter with a woman, much less a classy one. And that alone was a sad enough thought. Rick glanced at his watch and twirled his glass absentmindedly, sloshing splashes of caramel and inhaling the scent of its potency.

10: 21pm, his silver keepsake watch read proudly.

Luckily for Rick, it was to be a quiet Friday night back in his home county. He planned to go back to his lonely house, sleep in excessively, and laze about for the remainder of his weekend. He hoped to take a much-needed respite- to relax, to fish- whatever. He would do anything to avoid thinking about how he had spent his day...

He almost couldn't bring himself to the thought of it.

An anxious, perspiring version of himself had taken his revolver from its holster for the first time in months, and Rick Grimes had yanked back the trigger with the barrel and sights primed directly between the vibrant blue eyes of a kid.

It hadn't necessarily been a child, his team had told him, but a nineteen year old young man nonetheless. It didn't make a difference to Rick. That boy was someone's child; someone's everything.

The confrontation started with a routine traffic stop and ended with the nineteen year old threatening his girlfriend at gunpoint. When Rick had pulled the boy over, he felt a sense of dread. Something had felt off all day, and approaching the sedan from behind without backup proved to make Rick incredibly uneasy. His lunch sat nervously in his belly as he asked his partner to call the stop in to the station. Their supervisor gave them the go-ahead, and as Rick exited the cruiser, tapping the taillight and proceeding to the driver's side of the Toyota with caution, his heart had been racing a mile a minute.

When Rick stopped by the partially cracked window and breathed in the all too familiar toxic scent of his highly anticipated probable cause, he asked the young man to step out of the car and speak to him. Even though Rick told him that everything was going to be fine, the jittery suspect panicked as soon as he was to be frisked. Instantaneously, and with a mighty shout, the boy shoved Rick away from him and drew a black Beretta 92FS from the thick waistband of his blue jeans. Rick reacted instinctively and right away, and his urgency seemed to have saved lives. He unholstered his Python and took aim.

But the hostile young man had then proceeded to escalate things further by taking cover behind his beaten old car, opening the passenger side door quickly and grabbing his girlfriend by the vibrant red hair. Once the threat of the nine millimeter barrel was pointed at her temple and the sounds of her shrieks could be heard for yards, everything spiraled down further from there, and far too quickly. And yet, time slowed down for Rick from that moment on, senses heightened, atmosphere shifting, slow motion activating.

Rick's partner, Shane, nearly died in the midst of all the chaos that unfolded, taking a stray bullet from their suspects Beretta nine in the femoral artery and losing a frightening amount of blood on the pavement by the cruiser where he fell. Desperate not to end their suspects life, Rick pleaded with the young man and his hostage, trying his very best to keep them both calm. The armed teenager said things that both confused and frightened them all, and his bloodshot eyes, with the a absence of fire and soul, sent chills down Rick's spine. He continued persuading the boy gently, searching for every kind word in his hostage negotiation vocabulary, but when shots rang out in every direction, the Beretta barrel pointed out towards Rick and every possible innocent passerby filming the incident on their phones, Rick had no choice but to put the gunman down before anyone else was harmed and left bleeding on the hot pavement. It was their duty to stop the loss of life. Rick could not permit the shooting of the innocent teenager screaming and sobbing at the end of a barrel.

A peculiar mix of regret and relief overwhelmed Rick's senses and washed over him the very second he squeezed back the heavy trigger of his shiny six shooter. His six-inch, stainless Colt Python breathed smoke from the tip of the muzzle as Rick watched his victim fall to the asphalt like a boulder. The shrill sound of the girlfriend's screams still echoed in his discontented mind, rattling around in his brain like a projectile and refusing to leave.

The following hours were a hectic blur. The scene was cordoned off immediately thereafter, and as they wheeled Shane away on a stretcher and attended to the victim, Rick was removed from the area immediately and bombarded with questions before being taken to the station. His colleagues wrapped him up in a blanket and consoled him like a baby.

When Rick arrived at his place of work, he was questioned for a couple of hours more, reluctantly going along with the routine though he was dying to be at home crying in the shower and washing away specks of blood that had miraculously appeared on his skin. After reluctantly scratching down facts on the bold lines of familiar paperwork, Rick was then forced to hand over his service weapon and uniform. It was customary and mandatory, but only temporary, as it was key evidence, and after wrapping up the rest of the post incident procedure, the team let Rick go. They promised to call him and, with a thorough once-over, advised that he take the week ahead off from work and stay at home.

As Rick had pulled away from the curb in the change of clothes and boots he cleverly kept in his trunk, he overheard a bit of chatter on his radio. As of early evening, the young man he had shot was in the hospital in critical condition and the doctors had very little hope as to whether or not he would make it out alive. Rick went to visit him at Grady Memorial- out of pity, or guilt, or something else- he didn't know.

He drove all the way back into Atlanta instead of heading home for some much needed rest and a good cry as the sweltering July sun set on his back. And he ended his workday staring down at the boy's motionless body after they escorted him from yet another surgery. Rick was in a daze, entranced by beeping monitors and only feeling worse by the time he left the quiet hospital room. No one was checking up on him. No one was calling him to see how he was doing despite having just shot someone. The realization had left Rick cold, his already damaged heart hardening inside his achy chest.

Before leaving, Rick had taken the time to visit his partner as well after being notified that he was in the same hospital, fresh out of his own surgery and already healing. Shane was jovial and witty as usual and Rick felt only a slight consolation knowing that his friend would be alright. The man was his old high school best friend after all, and very much like a brother to him, despite the fact that Shane was now with Rick's ex wife, engaged and ignoring altogether the circumstances that led them to such relationships. Though Rick didn't mind much anymore, he was still getting over it gradually, sure that he deserved better, but lacking the hope to see it come to fruition. He had become so numb to the subject that a large part of him did not care anymore. A sliver of unbroken heart had an unknown desire... a flicker of flame.

When the pair of friends were finished catching up, Rick said goodbye to Shane and left the room downtrodden, trembling hands stuffed into his pockets. The hospital was crowded and unbearably loud and, just his luck, Rick ran right into his victim's family.

The parents of the young man Rick had shot were already pressing charges against him. And the burly father of the victim had then delivered what felt like a well-deserved uppercut to Rick's right jaw, cheekbone and eye socket as he tried to flee the hospital, the mother screaming and sobbing after him, her bony finger pointing in scrutiny as she shouted obscenities.

Rick had retreated to his squad car without a word returned, and he took off in search of solace. The image of his victim's head being thrown back by the .357 full metal jacket round flashed into his mind's eye repeatedly while he drove, and he shouted angrily in retreat as he sped away from all the dread he had caused, mashing the gas pedal down under his boot and beating the steering wheel with his fists- until he hadn't any energy left over.

With no one around, he could finally sob. The tears came from some deep, dark place, and they were as scalding as liquor as they ran down his face, warming his clammy skin and slipping into his parted lips, his chest wracked with weeping weight. His vision became so blurred that he was forced to pull over, and bright neon lights caught his eye, casting a hue of red-orange around him and affecting his mood drastically. He had parked his cruiser and stepped out into the early dusk, blinded by the low-hanging sun that dried his tears. He glanced up at the bright apple he had seen on his way home so many times before, wiping his last approaching tears away and heading inside...

Rick mentally shook his head, ridding himself of his many scattered thoughts and memories again. The bourbon wasn't helping the way he thought it would, and he gritted his teeth in displeasure, slamming his glass down in frustration; so vigorously that it shattered into pieces. It startled him and the bartender alike.

" I'm sorry, " he drawled halfheartedly, talking around the fog of his mild drunkenness. He looked from the bartender to the pile of glass shards in a pool of ice and bourbon and then back again before grabbing his hat. Retrieving a crumpled one hundred dollar bill from his dark leather wallet, he threw the money down on the counter as tip, payment and apology and shoved his money keeper back into his rear pocket.

As he stood to leave and turned away, he saw the bartenders lips move frantically, but he didn't hear a word of what she spoke, and he didn't care to. He licked his lips again and made his way down the bar, pushing into the crowd of awkwardly dancing people and feeling claustrophobic as he placed his sheriff's hat back atop his curls. The sound waves moved around him, and he was astonishing to realize that he liked this atmosphere. Something felt pleasant, even though none of it had helped his sorrows... yet.

A new song started. The DJ played the most lively of musical numbers, popular hip-hop and rhythm and blues pieces Rick had never heard. He liked them. It made his heart feel something in a more positive light. The track began softly, and it was catchy and sensual, the tempo quickly becoming more upbeat. The bass was thumping distinctly, and it caused his head to throb. Rick inadvertently made it to the edge of the crowd of people around the center of the dancefloor. His boozing and tipsiness had disoriented him in such an unfamiliar place, and he had gone the wrong way, further away from the entrance than he had initially hoped. He surely did not want to dance, instead looking around in search of an exit.

In his hunt for an escape, he froze, gaze zeroing in like a fluid camera shot. Rick noticed an eye-catching woman, moving beneath the colorful, strobbing lights. His clouded vision cleared and his sight locked onto her. And he didn't know how he had managed to do that with a vat of Kentucky bourbon in his system.

The goddess was the center of attention, seemingly the only smile in the somehow dismal room, and she was dazzling everyone with her aura and presence and movements. Her much more timid friend stepped up and tried to pull her back into the crowd, appearing to scold her, but the beautiful woman swatted at her friend playfully, freeing herself from her grasp and twirling back to the expanse of sparkling black flooring to dance merrily.

Everyone was watching her, but as she turned, her long arms over her head and her hips circling, her eyes met Rick's. Her dark gaze warmed him more than the Evan Williams settling in his belly, and he blinked in surprise as he listened to the pounding bass and the lyrics of the song in all their miraculous irony.

Baby, this is what you came for
Lightning strikes every time she moves
And everybody's watching her
But she's looking at you, you, you

Rick had never seen a woman like her in all his forty one years on the Earth he knew as only miserable now. Her skin, marvelously atramentous, gleamed spectacularly beneath the flashing technicolor lights, her slender body and long deadlocked hair undulating to the pulsing rhythm of the music. Her lustrous locs were swept behind her and accentuated with thick golden beads. The sections of shiny crafted trendils rained down the exposed skin of her sleek back like vines. Rick felt himself swooning like a fool. Alcohol consumption had never made him see a woman in such a way before.

She wore a tight sleeveless orange top, cropped at the midsection to showcase her toned stomach, and the summery color popped brilliantly against her chocolate-toned skin. Each of her arms were adorned with a few bronzed bracelets, accenting her complexion with their shimmer, and her belly button peeked shyly from behind the top hem of a dark cocoa leather miniskirt. Those bottoms encased flawless legs; shiny, tempting gams that stretched on and on and on. And they ended with ankles carved by a masterful creator. Not even her toes were neglected, adored with jewels and looking just as delicious as the rest of her. She wore dark platform sandals that matched her skirt, and her steps were graceful and coordinated as she danced stunningly, a moving sight for sore eyes amidst the otherwise unappealing shindig that had been taking place under the strobes of rainbows since he had arrived. All eyes were on her and she didn't pay anyone any mind at all...

No one except Rick.

Baby, this is what you came for
Lightning strikes every time she moves
And everybody's watching her

But she's looking at you, ooh, ooh

It snuck up on him, but he was amazed when he realized that he was beginning to like the song booming out of the surround sound subwoofers. Suddenly the stunning woman was approaching him, shimmying in perfect rhythm to the music; still dancing and twirling impressively, an arresting smile on her plump, fig lips. Rick was frozen in place. He was almost positively certain that he was dreaming; that all the liquor he had poisoned his system with had finally caused him to blackout, and he was now drooling on the floor in a drunken stupor, fantasizing of some unreal temptress he could never hope to have.

And then at last, she was in front of him, and his heart was pounding violently in his chest and in his throat and in his ears as she reached out to him without an ounce of hesitation, her long fingers soon clutching the fabric beneath the white collar of his t-shirt and pulling him in. She walked backwards in time with beat of the song, his white tee stretching along after her while she dragged him out onto the dance floor. He followed like a hungry dog.

He took the opportunity to drink in her features like a tall glass of water the morning of a hangover, hitching a breath in awe at the sight of her ravishing face and luscious form. She was absolutely beautiful. And Rick was floored. He wished he had always known that face; had never been without the sight of her beauty. Life could have been better with a face like that peering up at him. Her deep, dark brown eyes looked black despite themselves and they glimmered with amusement in the low, artificial light, a thin layer of mascara elongating the already endless lashes that framed those bewitching orbs. She was petite, but long-limbed- fit, but curvy. And her hair fell in the most breathtaking craft down her exposed back, framing her elegant features and vixenish design. There was no way a woman this magnificent would give him the time of day.

Had he read her incorrectly? A part of him feared that he had been mistaken; that he had been wrong in assuming what she wanted and he had misinterpreted her apparent sexual connotations. But alas; he could feel the electricity between them, and he could feel the pull of her desire, seeking him out as her match. He could see it in her eyes. And he didn't want to refuse her. No matter how unlikely it seemed for a woman like her to even be seen talking to him in the first place.

" Uh, miss? I'm not- I- I don't dance much, " he stammered uselessly, stumbling clumsily and following blindly behind her, powerless and nearly stupified. He glanced down when she let go of his shirt and turned slowly, and he caught sight of the thickest, most delightfully rotund ass he had ever had the pleasure of beholding, round and robustly full in all its wiggling perfection. As she made it back to the center of the dancefloor, she rotated to face him fully. Her cute nose scrunched when she started to laugh. She glanced up at him, gaze flickering around his features and settling, and she took his breath away easily. Her smile warmed him further. She had the lips of a diety, full and shiny and forbidden to be kissed by mere mortals. Rick swallowed hard. He wouldn't stand a chance.

He blushed and nibbled at the soft inside of his cheek, lustful thoughts stampeding his already foggy mind. A gold necklace with a pendant 'M' lay at the base of her regal neck and it captured the lights around them like trapped fireflies, the flickers winking at him flirtatiously. He was on the brink of breaking into a nervous sweat, and Rick felt lightheaded when she leaned towards him slowly, stretched up onto her tiptoes, and pressed her pretty mouth to his ear to whisper:

" Dance with me. " Her voice was honeyed and melancholy and sultry and Rick couldn't even begin to contemplate refusing her offer, her words sending an awakening shiver down his spine. She started to sway immediately, her hips working magic against him, guiding him, and Rick joined her bashfully with obedient haste, his hands on her slender waist, his fingers faintly digging into her soft mounds of flesh at her waist to bring her closer. She turned her back to him, dreads swinging wildly, and she pressed herself against his crotch, hips circling in perfect rhythm, her remarkable ass digging into him and her fluffy hair brushing against his face. Rick inhaled deeply, and she smelled of coconuts and buttery sweetness and his mouth watered savagely.

When she moved her touch down towards his forearms, closing her hand around each of them, his skin tingled. An electric current like no other passed between the two sensual dancers touching beneath the rainbow lights and disco ball in the center of the floor. Rick was seconds away from melting into a puddle at her pretty feet. When she found his wrists, she covered his knuckles and fingers with hers, interlocking their digits. She used her hold on him to direct his moves and lead him, her hips working along with her and influencing the sway of his.

Her energy was palpable- magnetic and alluring. And her hair waved in a hypnotic dance all its own, her scent and pheromone- laced sweat wafting into his welcoming nostrils. He could drool at the whiff of her; so sweet, so achingly tempting. Her grinding hips influenced his rhythm, and he let her do as she pleased.

Rick- who had never allowed himself to be guided or controlled- was powerless to stop the trance she ensorseled over him. She moved with such a sexy grace, her confidence rubbing off on him in potent doses. A cocky smile found its way to his lips when he saw how the other men looked at her- and the way they looked at him for being with her, and it made his pride swell and his mind ease, his concerns fading into nothingness. She seemed to be a remedy.

Reaching up and removing his hat, she threw it into the crowd of onlookers and giggled. Rick thought he would care, since he loved that silly hat dearly for some odd reason, but her musical laughter and smiling face and rotating hips had him thinking of nothing else- of no one else- but her.

With her back pressed against his chest, her ass still rubbing against him, he watched her close her eyes and raise a hand to touch his hair as she danced with him. The gesture made him tense in suspense and then relax beneath her touch, and Rick heard himself moan quietly, goosebumps springing up from where her fingertips danced across his skin. She ran her fingers through his tresses, sighing at the feel of his spun silk curls slipping through her hands. He shivered from her affections, trailing his palm over her stomach, down her thighs and back up again, swaying with her in time to the throbbing music. She was dizzying him- intoxicating him furthermore.

Everything was happening so rapidly- it must have all been a dream- it seemed so unfathomable for him to be dancing at all, yet alone with a woman as fascinating as her. There was an alluring enigma in her eyes; a mysterious sparkle that appeared when their gazes locked repeatedly. And it made his skin and insides tingle again and again, and he heard his breath catch once more. There was something about her. His stomach was in knots now, tighter than ever before. She turned a bit again, facing him shortly in the other direction, and her own warm, sweet breath washed over him and oozed down his throat; an amazing chaser for his whiskey. He took in her essence thirstily and he tasted her on the air for a brief moment. It left him stunned and hungry for her, and his mind started to spin as his mouth began to water and his mind began to race.

What the hell was happening? How was he even dancing? How had he managed with all the booze in his system? And when he become so suave? Only minutes before he was convinced that nothing was written in the stars for him- that his first love had been his only chance at happiness and he was now forever doomed to live his life in awkward solitude- doomed to fail at every interaction with the opposite sex and destined to be a divorcee for the pitiful remainder of his time left on Earth...

And then the astounding woman in his arms- the type of woman that usually never glanced in the direction of a civil servant like him- was changing his negative mindset and giving him hope. She was causing an unprecedented level of confidence in him. Rick held her hourglass waist tighter and pressed closer, groaning unintentionally from the animal magnetism that mystified him and kept them connected. And he watched her smile beautifully from the sound he made, her persuasive, revolving body moving with his in arousing repetition. She felt so good against him; soothing, warm and promising. His heart seized.

Their moment in the spotlight went on for what seemed like an hour, and Rick felt a bit ridiculous for a moment standing there with her, knowing how fine she looked in her jaw-dropping outfit. His white t-shirt and mid-wash blue jeans hardly competed or stood out, but she didn't seem to care. He still wore a pair of worn old cowboy boots, his backup pair free of telling blood stains. He could never seem to leave the house without donning a pair of his customary footwear.

Be that as it may, he knew his choice of clothing didn't really matter- not when a woman so marvelously dressed was with him, and was paying such close attention to him. It was a better choice than his uniform, and he was grateful for that, but a part of him still felt foolish in comparison, admiring every inch of the regal woman gyrating against him as he dipped her at the waist and eyed her as she straightened out upright slowly with the aid of his embrace.

But he didn't realize how absolutely perfect they looked together dancing in sync, as if their bodies were made to fit each other in every way, seamlessly suitable for each other in every nook and cranny. Rick peered over at the mirrored wall on the far side of the club, and he saw the reflection of himself and the belle dancing with him. He was astonished at how impeccable they looked as a pair, their contrasting skin tones and their opposite dispositions still fitting naturally somehow. People were watching them closely, admiring their obvious and heated chemistry with smiles and flirtations of their own amongst each other. They were turning people on and no one could ignore them.

And Rick couldn't ignore what was going on either. Her interest in him out of every other man in the bar was beyond flattering, but he wondered what she saw in him. He wanted to know her name so badly, he could almost taste it, just as he could taste a hint of her on the air again when he inhaled and curled his tongue around his mouth. He was so anxious to say her name aloud, perhaps while he was buried deep inside her, and the thought actually startled him.

He had never been so forward about anything, or as sure of himself as he was right then, but he knew undoubtedly that he wanted nothing more than to take her home with him tonight; to carry her off to his bed and make love to her until dawn broke into a new day spectacularly outside his window. If she asked, and if she allowed him to, he knew by the stirring in his heart and in his soul and in his loins that it would be impossible to refuse her.

Goddamn, he thought. How long had it been since he felt such a way about anyone? Had it been months- no, much longer. Had it been years? Had it been all of his life? Bourbon was doing something to him that it never had before.

She turned in his arms and looked up at him, and her eyes flashed something dark and dangerous. Rick felt his stomach clench and tumble into his throat, bobbing there and then tumbling back down.

Baby, this is what you came for
Lightning strikes every time she moves
And everybody's watching her
But she's looking at you, ooh, ooh

He was growing stone hard from her perfect backside being rubbed against him constantly, and he couldn't recall the last time his erection had ever been so achingly stiff. He didn't know what to do with himself. She circled her arms around his neck, her ample breasts pressing against him, and she reached up and tugged faintly at his nape, touching his curls and admiring them. Rick knew she could feel his hard on and her sweet smile widened. She grinned harder up at him, clearly flattered, and her groomed eyebrows elevated. She glanced down, timidly peering back up at him through her lashes and taking her juicy bottom lip into her mouth to nibble it teasingly.

Rick wrapped his arms around her hips more snuggly, resting his hands on the curved small of her back, just above her full, round cheeks, and they kept on dancing, never faltering, swaying and making love on the dance floor. Her body and curves fit marvelously in his grasp and against him, and it felt like he had known her longer than the last few minutes. He wondered if she sensed their tension; and their chemistry, in the same way that he did, the heated air between them igniting, encircling them and further arousing him.

We go fast with the game we play
Who knows why it's gotta be this way

Suddenly, she threaded her fingers deeper into his hair, kneading his scalp, and she pulled his face down to hers and stood up on her tiptoes. And then she was whispering in his ear again, giving him an answer to his ponderings.

" Take me home with you. "

Her voice was mouthwatering music. His stomach flipped at her words, and still somehow he managed to keep moving to the beat with her, feeling himself blush all over almost instantaneously. They never lost their rhythm, lost instead in each others eyes, and Rick kept wanting to pinch himself, just in case he really was dreaming.

But she had to be real. He couldn't dream up someone so extraordinary; his imagination didn't have the capacity to create such beauty. She was a masterpiece and he was already entranced by her. She looked like a painting; a magnum opus of earthy shades with an air of enigmatic soul. Rick bit his bottom lip hard, another dubious part of him still wondering if he was blacked out drunk. This all had to be too good to be true... right? After what had happened to him only hours before had led to this? He deserved to have a goddess grinding up against him and smiling at him fondly? The excitement sparking a flame of newfound joy in his heart was frightening him down to his socks. His mind was reeling and instead of whirling worries, it was full of pleasant thoughts and wondrous possibilities of the future ahead that he had never been able to fathom before. No matter how scary, or how unpredictable it could be, there was no way in hell he would refuse her request. Her suddenly dancing into his life had become life-changing in an instant.

We say nothing more than we need
I say, "Your place," when we leave

She turned around again, mouthing the lyrics as her body moved, her back to him, her hands on his thighs as she danced. Rick felt an inclination to dip his head and he nuzzled her neck while she ground her ass up against him.

Fuck me, he thought, bold enough to run his nose up the curve of her neck. She's perfect.

Was this what had brought him to the random club? On the very night he had taken a life for the first time? Had fate dragged him here, on this day, on the hour, to have this miracle woman in his arms? Though he hadn't been the object of anyone's affection for months now? Though it seemed to be the last thing he deserved?

He wanted her, and badly. And as the fire in his belly, once long forgotten, began to burst forth and burn wildly and sizzle his insides, he realized that he had to have her. Rick needed to feel something and he wanted to feel it with her.

When she rotated to look up in his eyes, he licked his lips and dropped his gaze to hers. Her own were pouty and glossed over and they looked so sweet that his mouth watered fiercely again. With her hands still in his hair, his nape tingling from her touch, she pulled his face down to hers with demanding force and kissed him deeply, taking every ounce of his breath away.

Her mouth was so soft, so sweet; she made him melt instantly. Tachycardia set in and his breath rushed away from him through his nostrils, tickling their fused lips. The flavor of her was unimaginably sugary, and he kissed her back with everything he had, his heart pounding furiously in his chest, the beats bouncing up his throat and into his mouth so violently that he could taste them along with her candylike saliva and cloying kisses. Her lips were even softer than he had imagined when he first laid eyes on her. And her tongue delightfully surprised him, slipping in for a sample of him in which he gladly gave her. When she curled that sweet, wet tongue around his, he nearly came in his pants.

He was lost, still swooning there on the dance floor and hearing himself breathe raggedly as she urged her hot, slippery tongue further down his throat and guided his hands back to her plump, round booty. He groped each bun eagerly and moaned, completely forgetting where he was, lost in the solace of her kiss. She took every bit of control and he let her. The world fell away and it snatched down all of his worries with it.

Rick devoured his goddess of a prize, holding her tight enough to let her know that he had no intention of letting go anytime soon. Her heart beating against his, and the warmth of her body in the palms of his hands, made his spirit soar and sore. He ached somewhere profound, and he deepened the ferocity of his affection, giving himself over to her with complete heart-on-the-sleeve surrender. It was so easy to. Her lips had put him under a spell that he never wanted to emerge from again.

He had an inkling that nothing was ever going to feel the same way again. And he didn't understand how or why he felt that way, but it occurred precisely when he had thought that he would never find a single soul to even socialize comfortably with again, yet alone make him feel anything at all. And now he had somehow run into a beauty so captivating that he couldn't stop thinking about her to save his life, even with her still right there in his arms, kissing him back in such a naughty way that he feared he would never think straight again.

He wondered what her name was and where her thoughts drifted to and what her favorite song might be or what made her laugh. He wanted to know so that he could play something or do something or be whatever it was that she needed- just to make her giggle again: smile again. The sound and sight of her joy made something overwhelming and supernatural blossom inside him and come to life again, and he had forgotten that it was ever there to begin with. He had been so numb for so very long. What was happening to him...?

Baby, this is what you came for
Lightning strikes every time she moves
And everybody's watching her
But she's looking at you, ooh, ooh

The song came to an end and Rick never knew anything could be as difficult as pulling away from a kiss. His mouth had never felt more blessed. With their lips no longer fastened, he could concentrate just enough to gingerly grab her hand, dying to sweep her off her feet and take her away to some private place. Her hand was small in his, and stamped with the same small red apple from the bouncer at the door. He loved the way she fit against him.

Rick led her off the dance floor before the music had even fully finished, glancing back at her and repeatedly catching her gaze. With a speedy look at his watch, his eyes widened. In less than four minutes, this mysterious beauty had utterly captivated him and he was dumbfounded, ready to take her back to his house and please her until the sun bathed his room in morning light.

Is this really gonna happen? he wondered, feeling his face heat. It had been eons since he was intimate with anyone. She interlaced their fingers, her hand warm and comforting in his as they made their way to the bar. Rick stopped to turn and look at her as they approached. She climbed up gracefully and sat down on a stool, her long, perfect legs pressed against his as he joined her standing adjacent. Rick blinked, drinking in her breathtaking features again and she smiled brightly and beautifully, dazzling him momentarily.

" You want a drink? " he murmured when he recovered, leaning over to speak gently into her ear. He was practically shaking in his boots with nervousness. He inhaled her intoxicating scent again, her silky dreads tickling his cheek as he pulled back to stare at her. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear in return, letting go of his hand and grasping his shirt once more.

" No, " she purred dauntlessly, " I want you." He nearly moaned aloud. She was gutsy, and bold, and she knew exactly what she wanted. He almost asked her why; why on earth would a woman like her want a guy like him, but he banished the thought of doubt from his mind and shyly smiled down at her. " Don't be nervous, " she said, reading him with ease somehow. " I won't bite unless you want me to. " He blushed even harder, and she touched an elegant, kind hand to his arm. Rick felt another surge of confidence and a positive thrill for the first time in months. She was delectable company and a vision after such a hard day. Rick thought she made a beautiful mirage. If he was dreaming, he deciding that he wanted to stay fast asleep forever. Her proximity and feminine warmth felt too incredible to behold in his state of inebriation. But he was a lucky man, and the thought alone prompted a smile back down at her.

A woman approached them, interrupting their moment, and she wore a black bodycon dress and shoes that looked like they belonged to a stripper, her short blonde hair swaying in careless waves. It was the friend who had discouraged the stunning woman from dancing. Rick's hat dangled from her left hand.

" Mich! " the woman yelled with a stomp of the foot, appearing agitated.

Mich, Rick mused, Michelle? She didn't look like a Michelle. She didn't look like anyone he had ever seen. Rick was terrible at guessing names but he was dying to know hers. She regarded her friend with a look of discontent, standing and tugging at her skirt. She pulled her friend aside and Rick turned his back to them, though he couldn't help but to eavesdrop.

" What are you doing? , " the friend asked.

" Going home with him , " the beauty replied confidently. Hearing her clarify it made him all the more excited. He was embarrassingly giddy, and he forced himself to contain his emotions.

" You've never done that before! Why are you starting now? And with some cop? You know how those guys are. You don't even really know him! "

"Do not admonish me like I'm some child, Andrea Harrison, and don't doubt my intuition. I know what I'm doing... " She flipped her dreadlocks over her shoulder, beads twinkling.

" Oh, really? " said the so-called Andrea.

" I can tell what kind of man he is... He's awful sweet... and cute as hell too, isn't he? " He heard that giggle again and he blushed, his stomach fluttering. He felt nostalgic, like he was a schoolboy again. " I want to get to know him, " the gorgeous woman continued. " And God, he's sexy. I'm gonna go home with him and let him fuck my brains out. " His heart seized again, much more harshly this time, and her friend laughed loudly, shaking her head, her hair still swaying.

" Okay, girl. Fine... Just call me if you need anything. You had just the one glass of white wine, right? " she asked, prompting the goddess to nod and swat at her.

" I'll be fine... More than fine. " Her friend smirked and met Rick's eyes, giggling and still shaking her head as she handed over Rick's hat and turned to leave. The goddess approached him once again, grinning contagiously. She had such a knockout smile and his heart did a jig as he caught the breath she had stolen away. " Wanna get outta here? " she asked, one brow arching. Rick nodded, trying to conceal his enthusiasm, but his heart was on the verge of bursting at the seams. There was something about her; he couldn't help but notice it, and couldn't put his finger on it. And it wasn't the bourbon talking -he was sure of that. He could feel it in that primal sweet spot: in a place that didn't feel much of anything anymore- until now.

Something about her was special. And he wanted to find out what it was that had him so entranced and utterly consumed.

" My friend found your hat, " the beauty said, smiling and placing it atop her head. It looked even better on her. He smiled back at her, triumphantly taking her hand again, and they left the bar, stepping out onto the sidewalk together simultaneously. They felt a charge of electricity between them the instant they were alone. Rick knew that she could feel it too. And it was stronger than what they had felt inside, now amplified by their privacy and the quietude that came with it. Their eyes met for a moment before their lips touched again, moans escaping them as Rick eased her back against the brick wall of the bar, his hand under her shirt, caressing her back. Her skin was impossibly smooth and he couldn't stop stroking her under the appreciative touch of his thumb. His mouth parted slowly and her tongue greeted his with no restraint. It didn't take long for him to need air. She was a magician when it came to taking his breath away.

" Tell me your name, " he whispered against her mouth, fixed on how moist and soft her lips were, and he kissed her again softly before she could answer.

" Michonne, " she murmured, her fingers running up along the back of his neck and tangling into his hair. She liked that spot, and as long as she did, he would let her touch him there whenever she wanted. Michonne slipped her tongue back into his mouth. He groaned, grabbing her hips and digging his fingers into her softness. He pulled her closer, bringing their bodies together greedily. They grew breathless, kissing and petting on the sidewalk for every passerby to see. They had forgotten altogether that they were in public, oblivious to everything else but each other." I've never-. " She took in a breath as well. " I've never done anything like this before, " she finished, smiling against him and sucking his bottom lip until it turned rosy pink. He moaned and pulled away, almost afraid of the effect she was having on him, terrified that he was feeling things so abruptly.

" Me either, " he replied with a lighthearted chuckle. He pulled back further, slowly and purposefully, and he looked down at her, watching her dark eyes flutter open. " But you want to, right? , " he asked hopefully, his teeth fastened around his bottom lip and his heart fluttering the wildest beat.

" Yes, " Michonne whispered back, leaning into his chest. " Yes, I do...Rick Grimes. "

Michonne's POV

With a satisfied grin, Michonne watched Rick's handsome face shift in expression as he took a moment to process her utterance. He was obviously taken aback, regarding her with a furrowed greying brow and a slight pout on his pinkish lips, his head tilted, his blue eyes twinkling.

" How do you know my name?... You some kinda stalker? " he quipped charmingly. Surprisingly, Michonne found herself laughing. Rick's hat fell from its perch atop her head as she giggled and leaned forward, doubled over in a fit of hysterics with her face against his chest. She hadn't laughed so hard or so much in a long time. She didn't know what had come over her. She had an odd sensation in her stomach that she could not rid. Maybe it was the wine. " What? " Rick asked, prompting her further, and his hand brushed her arm tenderly, awakening goosebumps despite the humid night. " What's so funny? "

" Nothing, " Michonne snickered, leering and peering up at eyes that sparkled down at her.

" Tell me, c'mon, " Rick said playfully, his fingers lightly tracing one jutted pelvic bone beneath her umber skin. " How do you know my name? "

" You're the head sheriff's deputy of King County, right? I know I'm right. I see you on the news every time something goes on in that little town... " His eyes brightened even more now. " You think you can just walk around in this hat, and those sexy ass cowboy boots and that obvious as hell gunbelt of yours and no one will recognize a famous small town deputy like yourself? ... I mean, I know most people probably don't, but I actually pay attention. " She smiled up at him, another giggle forming uncontrollably, and Rick's eyes danced as he listened to her laugh. He was clearly enjoying the sound of it.

" Yeah, I guess you're right about that, " he chuckled. " I forget that kinda thang sometimes. Just my regular clothes if ya ask me. So... let me guess, you've been crushin' on me for some reason and admirin' me from afar and when you saw me in there, you decided to try to seduce me, huh?... Michonne. " She stopped laughing abruptly, meeting his ocean gaze. She loved the way her name sounded in and from his mouth, drawn out with his heavy southern accent and dripping from his enticing tongue, his soft lips pursed on the final syllable. Michonne wanted him to say it again, in her ear, perhaps while he was buried deep inside of her. She throbbed at the thought, surprised by it thoroughly. She squeezed her thighs together, seeking relief from the pressure rapidly building there.

He was so sexy- more sexy than he looked on television- and he had already been sexy enough in that format anyway. She had been admiring him, for quite some time. She had seen him on the news at least a dozen times now, the first time nearly a year ago, and he had had a wedding ring on his finger then, in every shot. But when she saw him at the bar when he first arrived, her heart had leapt at her recognition of his handsome face, and she peered down at his hand, his ring finger bare, the gold band absent, and she had smiled victoriously before she had even introduced herself.

She had had a very good feeling about what was to come.

And despite Andrea's annoying and unwanted advice against her desire to approach him, Michonne had decided it was the perfect opportunity to seduce the man she had been secretly, and a bit unknowingly, crushing on for months like a schoolgirl. She liked him. And she wanted him.

And Michonne always got what she wanted; that much was true. She had heard that factoid declared several times, by her family and the people in her life alike.

" Did it work? " she purred in inquiry. " Did I successfully seduce you? " She watched his kissable lips turn up into a crooked little smile.

" Yes, " he replied. " Can't you tell?... How could it not work? " Her heart doubled its pace and a fire ignited inside of her, somewhere dark and warm and deep. She had such a big crush on him that she felt silly again, as if she was years younger. Throughout the recent months of working and struggling, she never thought she would meet him... but here he was, by chance perhaps, as handsome as ever in real time and standing before her, those rough hands she had felt on her body just minutes prior now planted on his own hips.

Michonne wanted them on her ass again- wanted to be wrapped around him, stuck to him like the stickiest of candies. He inched closer, staring into her eyes, and his gaze subdued her for a moment. He cupped her chin and gauged her reaction before pressing his lips to hers again. Her eyes fluttered closed. And she discovered then that his presence was a little overwhelming. She almost felt as though she wasn't ready for what was to come, feeling apprehension for the first time since she came out for the night. "I want you, " Rick declared, his tongue on her bottom lip, whiskey leaving his mouth sweet and hot. The scruff of his beard against her provided a panty-wetting sensation she was powerless to stop, but she wanted it to happen anyway.

" I want you, too, " she whispered, her glass of wine giving her much-needed liquid courage and speaking for her in lieu of her unfounded anxiety. She knew she wanted him- she had for a while now- and once she knew for certain, once his arms closed around her in an almost possessive fashion all doubt quickly vanished from her mind. " And I always get what I want, " she finished. Rick pulled back and smiled down at her roguishly.

" Then I'll call us a cab. "

•••

The ride to King County from Atlanta in hectic Friday night traffic would take at least half an hour or more on a good night, but it didn't seem like it was to be one of those good nights. The road was packed with cars full of aggravated drivers, on their way home to relax for the summer weekend. Michonne watched Rick lock his shiny squad car and saunter over to the parked cab. Her index finger lifted to her lips as she admired his physique and movements, bow-legged, swaggering walk and all. His thrilling and threatening firearm bobbed about in its holster on his shockingly wide hips. The police car made a shrill little beep and Michonne smiled with faintly sore lips.

She hoped to ride in that cruiser one day with him. She made the simple, silly wish on the spot as Rick slid into the taxi next to her and slammed the door, smiling down at her sweetly. Immediately, she reached over and rested her hand on his thigh, feeling him tense and then instantaneously relax under her touch. Their eyes linked and simultaneous smiles widened.

The taxi driver called back over his shoulder and asked where they were headed and Rick tore his gaze away to give his address before turning his attention back to Michonne. He scooted closer to her and threw his arm over the back of the seat, tickling her shoulder with his fingertips. Their bodies were already attuned to each other after all that sensuous dancing. She felt like a little magnet. And Rick appeared truly relaxed for the first time that night as the taxi began its slow journey to King County.

" Knowin' Atlanta traffic, I figure I've got a little time with you before we get to my place," he said, glancing down at his watch. "So... Michonne... That's pretty. Ain't a name I hear often, though. Not at all, actually. "

" It's French," she told him, nuzzling her body closer and still feeling a bit shy...but incredibly turned on. No man had ever caused such a swift reaction in her before. She clearly liked him, and her body did too. He smelled of aftershave and earthy, musky cologne, his five o'clock shadow making a faint, lovely appearance across his jawline and tanned cheeks. His dark curls wrapped around his ears and decorated the back of his neck. She already knew how incredibly soft they were to the touch but she wanted to feel them again. Their eyes met, and Michonne saw the beautiful flashes of blue in his as they passed the city lights, something else hidden there in them and flickering wildly.

" Hmm...I like it, " Rick murmured. " Do you speak any French? "

" Oui, couramment, " Michonne whispered in reply. Rick flashed a sexy smile, running his hand down her spine and settling back comfortably, his legs spread, one knee against her.

" What do you do for a livin'? " he asked, ever-curious. His hand drifted further until it rested on the curve of her ass, the both of them trying their hardest to ignore their very obvious and very potent sexual tension, and to focus on getting to know each other in other ways.

" I'm a criminal defense attorney, " she replied and Rick's dark brows raised a few fractions. He was obviously impressed. " Murder and manslaughter cases mostly. Things like that. "

" Ah, so we're both part of the legal system, huh? " he said. " I arrest 'em and send 'em your way. " He chuckled. " You enjoy it? " Michonne sighed as he dragged his fingers over the sliver of exposed skin above her miniskirt.

Certain days were definitely much harder than others. The past day in particular had been especially trying. Michonne had just lost a case defending a mother who had killed her abusive husband brutally in what had appeared, to some, an act of self-defense. The woman was going to prison for twenty-five years and Michonne felt downright awful about it- down to her bones. She had gone out for the night with her closest of friends, Andrea, for the first time in ages, to take her mind off of the guilt and shame she felt over her unforeseen case loss. Knowing that her client sat in a jail cell at that very moment, while Michonne went out and looked for fun to be had as a comfortable means of healthy distraction, made her feel like the guilty party instead of the other way around.

" Some days are quite...difficult. And stressful... And heartbreaking, " Michonne murmured in fading reply, her eye contact with Rick intense; unwavering. " Today was one of those days. " Rick swallowed hard, and she could read a bit of torment swimming in the basking blue of his breathtaking eyes. She was shocked to know that she yearned to know why; the reason behind the sorrow that almost mirrored hers.

" It was for me too, " Rick said, lifting his hand to clutch the back of her neck, his thumb stroking her there. His touch was amazingly warm, and his hot palm was a stimulating comfort. Michonne had never liked being touched so frequently, but Rick had a rare caress, memorable and uplifting. He chuckled a little, but the smile did not reach his beautiful eyes. " Honestly, there's so much goddamn struggle in the field... but I could name my least favorite thing about my work in a heartbeat. The one thing that really grinds my gears by the end of the day... " Michonne raised a brow this time.

" So can I... , " she replied. " Did we both end up hating the same thing when it comes to our careers? No way. "

" Say yours on three... , " Rick challenged, thumb moving back and forth on her skin. " One, two... three- . "

" Paperwork! " the two canoodling adults blurted simultaneously. A burst of laughter followed and they grinned at each other, grateful that the other understood completely. Michonne shook her head and tucked a dreadlock away.

" I came out tonight to get my mind off of thangs... , " Rick murmured. " What about you? " Michonne blinked slowly at him. She wondered what had happened to him; why he sought refuge in the same club she had wandered into with Andrea for the exact reason. Were coincidences and good intentions the combination for matchmaking?

" Y-yeah, " Michonne retorted in a near whisper, stammering a bit. She was never one to stutter. Rick was having an impact on her already and it was overwhelming. " I did too. " They stared at each other for a few more moments, and it was the first time that silence with another person wasn't awkward for either of them. They felt comfortable in each other's companydespite having just met, and it was astounding to realize that they were in for a rare treat: one that people aspired to like children with their fairy tales. Rick lifted a hand to her face, running his thumb over her apple cheek and guiding her mouth to his sheepishly.

They kissed again, deeply and intensely this time, forgetting about their burdensome day and focusing on each other instead. All that mattered right then was the two of them, no matter how selfish it felt to think so. Michonne could lose herself easily in his kiss. And she had a feeling she wouldn't tire of those plump pink lips being pressed against hers anytime soon.

" Tell me somethin' dirty to say to you in French so I can say it back to ya, " Rick drawled suddenly, pulling away only to whisper in her ear. His voice was low and growling, a rumble in his chest. Since she had mentioned it, it seemed he couldn't stop imagining her cooing in the love language, perhaps whilst he daydreamed about nestling himself deep inside her and caressing her worries away. He got a faraway look in his eyes when he absorbed and enjoyed a glimpse of her, and when his musings were through, he directed his gaze to hers again, and just like that, the air in the cab shifted. She had read his demeanor flawlessly. She knew what he wanted before he had asked. Michonne wanted to fulfill his wildest imaginations and dreams. She knew that she could, and she knew what could come of it. Rick's curiosity about her was flattering and suggestive.

She was also grateful for the change of subject, the focus no longer on the topic of their stressful work or negative moments. Michonne giggled, covering her mouth with her hand and leaning in towards Rick.

Oh, this is going to be fun, she thought. " Ok, " she told him. " Say...'Je veux toucher votre chatte'." Rick blushed, watching her lips purse and her tongue flick. He stumbled over the words and she recited them to him again. He finally repeated them to her, failing the dialect completely and still saying the statement in his heavy accent, and she smiled slowly, hearing him declare it. She bit her lip.

" What'd you make me say?, " he asked, smiling when he noticed her expression. Michonne laughed, shaking her head.

" Nothin', " she giggled. Her face fell against his shoulder and she hid her laughter there. Rick pinched her gently on the hip and made her giggle harder.

" C'mon. Tell me," he pleaded. She glanced up and gave in to his puppy pout and leaned over to whisper in his ear again.

" I made you say you wanted to touch my pussy. " She pulled back and started giggling again, and she didn't know why; perhaps out of nervousness, but when she looked up again, his face had grown stern. She blinked at him. " What's wrong? " she asked adorably, concern in her warm, fiery eyes.

" Sounds like you're projectin' your fantasies onto me, Michonne, " he whispered with a devilish smirk on his lips. " Tell me if that's what you want...and I'll do it. " Michonne felt her muscles tighten and clench, and she squeezed her thighs together. Rick tilted his head, leaning closer to her and she felt flustered.

" Touch me, " she chirped, her voice embarrassingly higher than usual. Rick shook his head, curls tumbling.

" Say it the way you made me say it, " he said gruffly, eyes narrowed.

" Toucher ma chatte, " she murmured and Rick dipped his head lower, planting a sweeping kiss on her neck and brushing his lips along her jawline. He lifted his mouth slowly and kissed her ear and she bit her lip to keep from moaning. Caressing her thighs lazily, he snuck his hand under her skirt, and her knees went weak as she waited in shivering anticipation for his fingers to touch her there. He finally did, and her head fell back, her mouth falling open in a silent plea as he teased her with his feathery touches over her panties. It was the most courageous thing she had done in weeks; letting the only stranger she had ever been attracted to touch her in such an intimate way.

" Keep a straight face, " Rick said, his voice gravelly in her ear. " Don't forget we're in the back of a cab. I want him to think we're cuddlin'. " Michonne blinked, nearly laughing. She had forgotten. Oh, but it was so hard to keep her eyes from rolling shut, to keep her head from lulling, and even harder not to moan as he massaged her sensitive little nub with two deft fingers over the fabric of her silk panties.

She was already so wet. She chewed on her lip so hard that it stung, another moan trying to escape, and she nearly died when Rick sucked her earlobe and pulled it with his teeth. She tightened her grip on his thigh, desperately seeking relief from his torturous affections. Her hips bucked as he slowly pulled her panties to the side and eased a finger inside of her. Her nails sank into his leg and a whimper nearly left her lips.

" You make a sound and I'll add another finger, " he grumbled in her ear, his finger slipping in and out of her, teasingly and agonizingly slow. God, he was hungry. She could feel his desire in the air around them.

She clenched her fist. This man was even sexier than she had imagined, and even sexier than he had been only ten minutes ago. What was she to do when he finally got her to his place? She shivered just thinking about it. She wanted to come already and she was surprised and almost angered by it. Michonne lifted her hand and rested it on his growing erection, teasing him back over his jeans. Feeling the size of him in her grasp nearly made her wet herself in violent orgasm right then, but she held on for dear life. " That's not fair, " Rick hissed in her ear, licking her earlobe once more. She shivered yet again before she could even reply.

" Yes, it is, " she whispered back. Rick smiled against her and slowly slipped another finger inside her dripping center and she tensed for a millisecond, relaxing again as he slowed his pace even more. She gritted her teeth.

" I told you if you made a sound, I'd add another finger. " His lips were still against her neck, kissing her gently, tenderly. " Shhh, " he cooed.

Easy for him to say. Fuck. She closed her eyes, relishing in the thrusts of his thick, teasing fingers, growing wetter by the second.

" Kiss me, " Rick demanded almost weakly, his voice breaking with feeling, and Michonne didn't hesitate to lock her lips with his and slide her tongue into his mouth. She could feel his need for her in the heat of his kiss and she swooned all over again. Taking full advantage of the vulnerable moment, she smoothly unzipped his pants and reached inside the opening of his jeans and boxers to grasp him firmly in her hand. His mouth fell open, his lips still against hers, and she squeezed him with greedy purpose, gliding her hand up and down his impressive length and taming her sudden, and overwhelming, animalistic urges.

She rubbed her thumb over the swollen tip of him, his precum slick against her fingertip. And still, his movements were unrelenting, his rhythm steady on her flesh and inside of her for what felt like hours. Michonne was overcome; by the constant teasing of his lips and tongue on her neck, by his very presence, and by his size- knowing full well that once they got to his house, he would be buried deep inside of her soon and she could finally know what it was like to be with him the way she had envisioned; so absurdly and so long ago.

Suddenly the taxi came to a stop, and the driver cleared his throat loudly. Michonne froze, her eyes flying open, and she stifled a giggle, freeing her hand from Rick's pants as his fingers slipped from her. She choked on her laughter and opened her clutch, pulling out a few crisp bills to pay the driver.

" Hey, hey now, let me. Put that away, " Rick said, feigning offense as he zipped his pants and pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He paid the driver and they fled the cab, dashing out into the warm summer night air, and the pair burst into a fit of violent laughter as the cab drove away, back towards the bustling city.

Michonne glanced up, admiring Rick's cozy little home and still giggling as he joined her on the sidewalk. She had never been one to be so giggly, her disposition usually stoic and even tempered, but she liked that she couldn't stop chuckling. He was having a positive effect on her. And nothing had much of an effect on her anymore. Rick wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to his doorstep, boots heavy and loud on the concrete.

" Do you live alone? " Michonne asked, wiping her eyes from her joyous laughter, saddened by the notion of Rick coming home to an empty, bleak house after a hard day's work.

" My eleven year old comes to stay with me every other weekend," he replied. " He lives with his mother. " Michonne placed her hand on her chest admiringly.

" Aw, you have a son?" she said, wondering how cute he was; how much he resembled his handsome father in likeness. Rick smiled and nodded, inserting his key into the lock and opening the door so that they could step inside his home. His living space was traditional, all earth tones and unfussy palettes and crisp, cut wood. Still life paintings accented the off-white walls and a brick fireplace stole all the attention in the room. A picture on the mantel caught her eye and she walked over to it, her heels clip-clopping on the bamboo flooring. She picked up the frame as Rick closed and locked the door behind them.

A smiling little boy with bright blue eyes and wavy dark brown hair peered back at her from the glass frame, his freckles followed by her eyes like connect-the-dots. He did resemble his father. " He's adorable, Rick. What's his name? " she asked.

" Carl, " he told her. She saw him through an opening from the living room into his kitchen. He pulled two bottles of beer from his refrigerator and joined her in front of the fireplace, casting his hat aside on the table and opening both bottles with his hands. He gave one to her and shoved the bottle caps into his pocket. " He's a real good kid, " he said, sighing and staring down at the picture with her. He gently touched the image of his son's face and took it from her, placing it back on the mantle with care.

" Of course he is, " she said. " His father is a good man. " Rick met her eyes as she turned to face him.

" Now, how do you know that? " he asked with a raised brow. " You don't know a thang about me, Michonne... Other than the awful way I dance and the kinda impressive size of my dick, " he joked, nearly her exact sentiment. She laughed, shaking her head at him.

" Yes, I do, Mr. Grimes... I know a lot about you. I know you're divorced. And I know you're happy about it, even though it makes you feel guilty that it brought you those feelings." Rick raised both of his eyebrows now, and she continued. " I know you love your son with everything you have, more than anyone in the world, and you'd do anything for him. Anything..." She studied his face and watched him. " I know you hate coming home to this empty house, but you think it's better than being unhappy in it with someone you no longer want to be with... I think you're a fighter and I know you're strong... I can just tell... And I have a good feeling you're an upright man, with morals and standards and a big heart. You have to be in order to be a good cop, and I can tell that you are one... "

Michonne paced ever so slightly, but she refused to take her eyes off of him. " I know that even though your job is hard and it takes it toll on you, you wouldn't trade it for any other career in the world. Not for status, or valor, or recognition. But because you love people and you want to help them. " Their eye contact had grown so intense that Rick was forced to look away. He peered down at his boots but not before she noticed the profound flushing of his cheeks.

" How'd you do that? " he murmured. " I don't think anyone has ever- goddamn. Did you decipher all of that while you stalked me? " he jested. " Or just from tonight? In this short amount of time we've known each other? " Michonne smiled at him and nodded proudly, wishing to touch him, to kiss him again, to console away that frown.

" It's a gift of mine, " she said. " Useful when it comes to my job. " She shifted, growing uncomfortable in her platform heels. She bent to take them off, beer still untouched in her grasp.

" May I try it with you? " Rick asked politely, watching her as he backed up to sit down on his plush sofa. She smiled harder, her pretty teeth flashing in the dimness.

" Be my guest, " she said, walking over to join him. " Scoot over. " Rick gave her a little more room and she sat down next to him, settling against the pillows. He then cleared his throat and began.

" Hm, let's see... You're single, I'm guessin', though I can't begin to understand or imagine how that's even possible. " She grinned again. " You're fun to be around. I can tell. I bet everyone likes you, but I bet you don't keep the company of a whole lot of friends. You seem wary of everyone else around you. And alert. Guarded. But you can relax when you meet someone you can trust... And I'm your man when it comes to that, so you don't have to worry about me... You're classy, and smart, and I'm almost positive you've got a naughty side, inside and outside the bedroom. I can see that too... I see it in those purdy brown eyes o' yours. " Michonne giggled. He was definitely right about that, and surprisingly correct about everything else as well. " And you're strong. As hell. What you do for a livin' requires a lotta strength, but you deal with it well and you don't let it get to you... Probably have an outlet to get all your frustrations out in some way... And if you aren't already a mother, you seem like you want to be one. "

It was her turn to be in stunned silence. This man was smart; that she knew, but damn, she wasn't the only one with a keen sense of intuition. Michonne found, yet again, something else to be attracted to. She felt his eyes on her and she met his piercing gaze. " How'd I do? " he asked.

" Perfect, " she said quietly, " I guess we both have that gift. " Rick's phone suddenly rang in his pocket and he pulled his eyes away to answer it quickly.

" Hello?...Yes, this is he... Yeah, I asked to be notified on his progress... Alright... Mmhmm... He's stable? Shit-I mean, that's amazin' ... Okay... Okay, thank you... Yes... Thank you... Goodnight." He pressed the 'end' button on the little screen and sighed a heavy exhale of relief.

" Everything okay? " Michonne inquired. He looked willing to speak but hesitant for a fraction of a second, looking up at her bashfully. He was seeking her gaze for comfort and she knew that he was about to confide in her. The look in his eyes was a little scary.

" I shot someone while I was on duty today, " he blurted, as if he had been dying to tell someone for hours. She didn't know what to say.

" Wow... you were right; you really did have a rough day... I'm sorry," she murmured after a while, reaching down and interlocking her fingers with his in an attempt to comfort him if her words did not suffice. And it worked. His heavy heart took off on a wild, fluttering ride into his palm. She felt every pulse. Michonne swallowed hard. He stroked her hand with his thumb.

" He's stable now, they said. Maybe... maybe he's gonna be alright, " he breathed. Michonne nodded and Rick lifted his beer in his free hand, sighing aloud again. " Here's to our rewarding careers," he said sarcastically, clinking his bottle with hers. She popped the cap off and took a long swig of the cold hops, rolling the liquid around in her mouth and Rick drank quietly beside her. " You wanna tell me about how shitty your day was? " he asked. Michonne shook her head fervently.

" No. I don't even want to think about it, " she replied. " I don't want to think about anything negative at all. " Her honesty was fitting. Rick squeezed her hand and their eyes met again, the tension returning and the air ignited between them...

Rick's POV

Before Rick knew what was happening, he was all over her, Michonne's lithe body pressed against his, her breasts against his chest, their faces mashed together in frenzied passion. They had both set their beers aside as quickly as possible, reaching for each other greedily, the both of them disregarding their need to breathe in order to get a taste of each other again. She moaned, and Rick ran his tongue over her plump, perfect bottom lip. He could hear his stubble scratching her repeatedly but she didn't seem to care at all. She moaned quietly from the pain, and it lit a fire in him.

His lips closed over hers hungrily and he groaned, weaving his fingers into her soft dreadlocks for the very first time, his other hand around her waist. Every part of her was more stunning than the last. He stroked her skin as he pulled back to look at her, gasping for air. She caught her breath and opened her eyes slowly. They were seductive eyes, sexy and captivating, lids heavy with arousal. She was absolutely beautiful. His heart caught in his throat.

" What? " she asked, smiling shyly, her breaths coming out in sighs. She touched his face. " What's wrong? "

" Are we... okay? Do you want to do this? " He wasn't asking out of hesitation, or doubt that he didn't want this himself. He hoped she realized that he was checking up on her, being polite, and that he was concerned for some untold reason, and waiting for her reassurance. And she gave it.

" You're sweet, " she purred. " Yes... Yes. " And his lips were on hers again instantly.

Rick pulled her closer and she caressed his stubbled face, her hands finding their way into his smooth locs of hair. When his tongue slipped past her lips again, she sucked on it thoroughly, and he nearly fell apart in her hands, a whimper fleeing him and hiding in her dulcet mouth. His hands stroked her every inch of skin, caressing her spine, trailing down to her ass, and when he reached it, he cupped it zealously, moaning with hunger and now practically on top of her as she nestled back against his throw pillows. Rick settled between her thighs, breaking away from their kiss to peer down at her and admire her once more. She lay breathless.

" Take me to your room, " she murmured and Rick wouldn't make her ask twice. He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her- one behind her back and the other behind her silky legs. He lifted her from the couch with ease and stood, carrying her away swiftly up the staircase and down the hallway to his master suite, listening to her delightful giggle all the way.

She's so beautiful, he thought, is she real? Am I still dreaming?

If he was, he wasn't ever going to wake up.

Rick made it to his room faster than he ever had, kicking his door open with his booted foot and laying Michonne down on his unmade bed. He thought of how lonely this very bed was a mere twenty-four hours ago, now occupied by this slender, sweet woman in the midst of undress. He watched as she slowly unzipped her leather skirt and Rick tugged it down her legs, admiring the golden silk panties she wore. The spot of moisture on them was evidence of her arousal and their heated headstart in the cab.

He swept her locs over her shoulder with care and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, kissing her neck as he unzipped her top from behind. Her breaths and groans came more quickly as she eased herself out of the orange top, arching her back and tossing her hair, her breasts now on full display, her nipples hardening under his hungry gaze. He leaned closer, inhaling her sweet scent, and his mouth watered as he nibbled her earlobe and cupped one perfect breast in his hand. Her unbelievably soft flesh filled his palm and warmed his soul. He felt as though he had been granted a marvelous privilege- to chance to see her body naked and vulnerable and aroused. She squirmed for him, sighing heavily, and Rick knew it was because she didn't want to wait any longer; that she needed him soon and just as badly as he needed her. Knowing so set him ablaze, inside and out, and a part of him long forgotten resurfaced again.

Rick stood and Michonne opened her big brown eyes, peering up at him as he pulled his white shirt over his head and discarded it onto the floor. With a slightly trembling hand, Rick jerked his backup revolver from the holster on his jeans and set it down on the nightstand, watching Michonne eye it with sexy curiosity. And then, her eyes were on him. They scanned him hungrily and she reached out to touch him, her long fingers enticing, but somehow, he managed patience, and he stepped back and away from her touch, thrilling confidence sweeping over him.

" Get on your knees, " he growled, smirking coyly. " C'mon. " Michonne heeded his request without resistance, her eyes clouding with lust. He could tell that she liked this side of him, dominant and demanding and devilishly daunting, and it was clear that it was an unexpected surprise. She rose to meet him, kneeling at the edge of his bed and staring up at him. " Unbuckle my belt, " he barked, his tone low, his arms at his side, and she did, her hands shaking as he stared, watching her reach down with fumbling hands to pull the tip from the belt loop and release the tongue to undo the buckle. " Now the jeans. "

Michonne undid the button of his jeans and slid his zipper down slowly, the grinding sound of the metal teeth filling the quiet bedroom. Rick toed off his cowboy boots eagerly, hooking his thumbs into his pants and boxers and pulling them down with a yank. He freed himself, his cock bobbing, rigid and rock hard and at attention for her. She licked her lips in anticipation, a faint moan leaving her mouth as she admired his size in full splendor, her lust obviously intensifying and dizzying her. He lifted his hand and ran a finger along her jaw, his thumb tracing over her plump, soft lips. Her eyes closed at the heated contact and she reached for him, to wrap her arms around his neck as he stepped out of his pants and kicked them aside.

Rick grabbed her slender waist, thumbs stroking her velvety hips, and he pulled her against his body roughly, moaning now that they were skin to skin. He forced his tongue into her mouth and dug his fingers into her, and she swooned at his aggression, her body going slack as desire and submission took over her.

She didn't seem like the type of woman who let a man take charge on the first night, but she had changed her mind entirely for Rick. He knew that if she had been eyeing him for months, then she had imagined their first time together countless times; how good they might be at pleasing each other, how his body might look when he was naked and thrusting into her, how his blue eyes and pink lips would look hovering over her as she let him devour her... And Rick knew he had to satisfy her every whim if he wanted to keep her near- and he did, more than anything.

After weeks of admiring from afar, living as strangers, here they were, in his bed, and he could tell that her cheeks were warm beneath his observant, lusty gaze. Her fantasy was coming to life before their very eyes.

Rick lifted her and she was once again in obvious surprise at the strength of his embrace. He turned them both around and sat down on the end of the bed and she knelt, straddling him and positioning herself over him until she seemed comfortable.

When they kissed again, it was feverish and desperate and full of tongue and he couldn't wait a second longer, dying to be inside of her, to fill her, to know what it would be like to please her fully.

" Do you have any condoms? " she asked suddenly, breathless against his mouth and licking his bottom lip. He groaned.

" Fuck...I don't. I don't keep them around. " She bit down on his lip and he groaned again, louder this time.

" Oh, well... Fuck it, " she sighed, slipping her tongue into his mouth.

" Are you sure? " he murmured, distracted by her greedy kisses.

" Yes, " she moaned. " Fuck me. " Those words lit untold, unknown fires deep inside of him, his loins tightening, aching. He hadn't noticed her panties were still on and he reached down, caressing her over the fabric with urgency.

" I'll buy you a new pair, " he said as he clutched them between and beneath his slight-edged fingernails and ripped them from her body at the elastic seam with fisted hands, throwing them aside and cupping her perfect ass. " You ready? " he asked, his voice suddenly shaky.

" Mmm...yes, " she purred. " More than you know. " And by the feel of her wetness against him, he doubted that...

Michonne's POV

They said nothing else, knowing what was about to happen. Their hearts raced in tandem, the anticipation nearly making them drool. Their craving for each other dizzyied them. They watched each others faces as she lowered herself onto his thick length with delicious slowness.

Their fate was sealed in that moment... but they were too absorbed in each other to notice.

Michonne threw her head back and sighed as their bodies joined. He was bigger than she had expected, growing even more inside her, and he was so thick, it hurt, but the pain felt so spectacularly good, she almost cried out. She bit her lip, and just when she thought she couldn't take another centimeter of him, her body accepted him completely, and she moaned loudly, taking every inch of him to the hilt. She gasped as he plunged deeply into her, marveling at how full she felt- how complete.

Their lips parted as words abandoned them entirely, only groans of delight escaping, and their mouths met hungrily, their tongues thrashing against each other. Michonne's hands found their way back into the thick ringlets at his nape again, her long, deft fingers seeking what now felt like their rightful place. Rick's eyes rolled shut and she caressed his scalp, sucking his full bottom lip and nipping it roughly with her teeth. She coaxed a low growl from him.

Timidly, she began to move, riding him slowly, and she could tell that Rick was already lost in her spell. She smiled and ran a thumb along the bruise of his faint black eye, bringing her lips to the slight injury and kissing it softly. He opened his eyes again, holding her gaze and wrapping his arms around her, his fingers splayed across her lower back.

His deep ocean eyes watched her every movement with reverence and fascination. She accidentally lost herself in his gaze, his pupils so large in the low light that they looked like two entracing black holes, surrounded by pools of cerulean blue, sucking her in, dragging her away into a reality where only the two of them existed.

He bit down on his bottom lip, growling possessively, his hands moving to cup her ass greedily in strong, eager hands. She quivered as she rode him, dipping her head to place a gentle kiss on his lips again. It deepened quickly, growing sloppy and more desperate, full of need; unbridled tongue, clashing teeth and sweet, sticky saliva. Their noses bumped, sighs and gasps of contentment from their joined mouths echoing through his silent home, filling it with sounds of life again. She saw his eyes mist.

Michonne rested her head on Rick's shoulder. Her eyes rolled shut and her mouth fell open with a moan and whimper of near surrender. She grasped at everything, at anything, at all she could manage; his body, his powder blue comforter, his thick, curly hair- all to keep from succumbing to the overwhelming sensations rushing over her body in slow, delightful waves. It had been so long since she had taken a man like this. And it had never felt more right.

Her fingernails sank into his flesh and he groaned, touching her everywhere he could, feathery brushes of his rough fingers sending noticeable shivers down her back and goosebumps down her arms. His grasp settled on her hips, digging into her and aiding her quivering, rolling hips as rode him frantically.

Michonne's eyes fluttered open and she lifted her head, raising her shaking hands to thread her fingers through his curls again. She couldn't stop touching him there. She leaned down to kiss him, open mouthed and full of lazy, warm tongue. She couldn't get enough of him. It had been so long since anyone had made her feel such a way. Her heart nearly burst with pleasure. Rick kissed her back hungrily, only breaking their kiss to turn his attention to her breasts, ignored for only a while. They bounced gently in his face, begging for his affection. He admired them with ravenous eyes, leaning to flick his tongue over her nipples, one at a time, back and forth, a teasing game that made her desperate for more. A little shriek escaped her. Her knotted little peaks hardened further beneath his saliva-covered tongue and he gave them his undivided attention. She moaned some more, grinding over him roughly and pulling his curls as he slid in and out of her again and again in a slippery, rushed rhythm.

Rick lifted her suddenly and she felt like she was afloat, hovering in the air above his unkempt bed, above the sheets that had smelled of him and now smelled of her. Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped, feeling whimsied and as light as a feather. He wrapped his arms around her and turned over so that he was positioned on top of her, all the while still buried deep within her. He crawled further onto his bed, towards the headboard and many pillows, Michonne's slender body locked around his, legs fastened like a bow about the small of his back. She settled against the pillows, pillows that smelled of him too, scents more intense the deeper she nestled, and she gasped when he wasted no time finding his rhythm again.

" Fuck, " he groaned, digging his hips into her as he moved, as hard as he could in slow, forceful thrusts that rocked the bed against the wall, wood posts rapping again and again. " God, yes. I - " , he choked. " Oh, Mi-chon-. " He couldn't finished a single sentence. His calloused hands and honest eyes were bashful on her... but his hips were not as shy. Gentler hands had never been on her body before. Rick had such a tenderness to his touch, down to his overworked fingertips, and it was such a contrast to his rapacious hips and ravishing lips and hot, calloused skin. His sweet mouth stayed parted as he whimpered, tongue glinting in pale cerulean moonlight, every piece of him cherishing the way his shaft was hugged and kissed. The almost neglected fire burned cold and intense and desperate in his beautiful blue eyes, and it intimidated Michonne like nothing else, but she was enthralled by it. She pulled him closer, her body opening in ways it had not for anyone. Her core was trembling. And his flesh was so remarkably heated that it was comforting- a furnace to curl up next to and drift away. Rick sucked at every inch of her like she was fruit, and she lost the ability to breathe normally. She exhaled sigh after contented sigh. And Rick's restless and laudable efforts to quench her thirsts made her whole being swell with profound ache.

He was a reserved man, with a demanding, dominant side that he could not hide- one she knew ought not be reckoned with- but above all, he had a compassionate facet of sweetness mixed in warmly with everything else, and Michonne knew that she had developed this silly crush for a reason. She was wrapped around the sexy, lean body and the surprisingly thick cock of a brave and generous man, one who had not shown an ounce of malice or unfriendliness towards her or anyone else, though his life seemed to hand him plenty of excuses to be malcontent.

She was being bad- and very reckless- but this act, with him, had been precisely what she needed, and it didn't matter if what she was doing was taboo, or too imprudent, or too hedonistic; it- him- this felt right.

Rick was easy to talk to, and more than easy to look at, and he had been so charming, and so kind to her when no other man had truly done the same for years. Michonne knew that type of disrespect far too well. She had been objectified and mistreated by the opposite sex more often than not since she became a single woman. Rick was the only man she had given the time of day, or the opportunity to impress her... and impress is indeed what he did. So Michonne let him have something no man had known the pleasure of in years: the gift of her, and her marvelous body.

The reasons why Michonne had been crushing on Rick in the first place were showcased plainly before her eyes as they made love. Her intuition never failed her, not even with strangers through a television screen. Rick was different. She wasn't in the arms of a heartless, womanizing bachelor, or a citizen-killing, hatred-filled police officer; she could see it in the beautiful blue windows to his warm soul- she was in the arms of a remarkably tenderhearted human. A father. A fellow lonely heart.

A good man. One polite enough to ask her what she wanted before giving anything. One who was gentlemanly and respectful to her, a stranger, even during the intimate act of dancing. One who became turned on just by watching the pleasure he gave. Michonne knew by the way he was gazing down at her- staring so deeply into her eyes that she grew timid; she was not in the midst of a typical one night stand. This was something else. This was something different.

Rick seemed to read her, and he read her well. Her every reflex and reverberation, with never-ending enthusiasm, was carried out and carried on however she wanted, until he made her sing for him. And when Michonne got what she needed, her responses pleased him noticeably. It encouraged him further, and the more she enjoyed herself, the more impassioned he became, his pace increased, his cock harder. She asked for more and he gave it. His lustful rage made him growl aggressively and slam powerfully into her with urgent repetition and she was positive right then and there, that Rick had needed this just as much as she did, though he kept his focus on her fully and deemed himself unimportant, all for her immense gratification. And the more he concentrated on her, the more stiff his dick grew inside her sugary, appreciative walls.

And Michonne loved every bit of his red-blooded, untiring hunger. She had craved the pent up frustration of a man like him all her life and now that she was on the receiving end of it, he was almost too much for her. She could feel herself being delightfully stretched, her body acclamation addictive. He quickened his speed again, pounding into her vigorously and rocking his bed even harder, eyes trained on her bouncing breasts and enthused face. He stared and touched like no one else, almost excessively, and Michonne invited it all.

She silently urged his lips to suck at her nipple, and he received his hint in no time at all. He lowered his mouth and suckled softly. Pleasure turned numb and constant, driving her wild and fueling her fire. Rick shifted his weight to one hand and reached between their melding bodies with the other to find her clit swollen and wet and shuddering. He moved his lips to hers and found her pouting, and he seized her bottom lip with his teeth and sucked it into his mouth the way he had with her nipple, massaging her swollen little bundle of ultrasensitive cells with two nimble fingers and peppering her moaning mouth with kisses. She gasped repeatedly.

" Mmm, Rick, " Michonne groaned in his ear, her breath rustling his hair. " Rick. " He hastened his pace a bit more, licking her neck and she moaned his name again, the only word she could manage. She thought she could feel shame over this; doing something that most people thought seemed like a hookup, something Michonne had never done before. But this was something else entirely... something more.

There was something about the way Rick looked at her- into her- something about how good it felt to fuse and gratify with him. It was necessary. Her body longed for and liked him all. She writhed and waned and bloomed for him. It was a desire to share the most basic of urges with someone she felt something unimaginable for, in a world full of people she had felt disconnected from for decades.

Being with Rick in the moment, and feeling what she felt so swiftly, was chemical, and mature, and it blew her mind to pieces, scattered like buckshot in a dizzy disarray. She knew she would want more; more of him, more of this, in every way. This was something more. And she would have been a fool to think otherwise. His deep sea cerulean eyes clarified that for her every time he stared and kissed her deeply into a whimpering fit.

Rick did not divide his time between breathing and kissing when he made love, she soon delightfully discovered. He kissed her every second. She was his air. Her tongue was sustenance. His kisses were messy and sensual, and she tried to contain what he was making her feel. His muscles rippled in the wake of his plummeting frenzy, sweat pooling on his hot skin. He growled like an animal, his cock hardening inside her until it hurt, and something churned deep inside her tummy. Were those butterflies? He was giving her butterflies.

She cursed again loudly, and it only encouraged him. He thrusted into her harder, with an unabashed desperation, and it made her cry some more, as he added the wet notes of smooches down her chest and up her neck and softly in her ears. Michonne watched a layer of goosebumps spread over his tanned skin, and she felt his cock harden inside her in a way that only made her feel fuller. Her eyes fell closed and her lips pouted. She was creaming, covering him in her essence as he continued his torturous rhythm, willing her out of her mind and body in a state of rapture she hadn't felt in far too long.

She wanted this to last forever with him, and she tried to hold on with all her strength, but his feverish lips closed over a spot on her neck so sensitive that she started to shiver. He bit her there, sucking her flesh and leaving love bites on her skin. " Oh... yes," she choked, astonished at how much she liked what he was doing to her. Her whimpers grew shaky.

She loved how possessive he was, claiming her with his furious mouth and keen tongue and throbbing, plunging cock. She loved his zealous, unexpected aggression and the consequences that came with it. The thought of being sore from him the next day nearly tipped her over the edge. He fucked with a confidence she had not anticipated, and he was so sure of himself, the arduous grunts from his lips warm against her skin, his every fiber unhesitant and beyond anxious to please. His relentless strokes hit her every sweet spot again and again and she couldn't stop moaning if it would save her life; it was so deliciously good. Michonne didn't know if she could take it, feeling herself grow wetter around him, the sounds of their bodies meeting filling his room with the music of their lovemaking. She was so close, she could taste it ...

" Cum for me, Michonne, " he whispered in her ear, worshipping her body with his hands and his lips and his eyes in a way that no one else had, and it was just what she needed- just what she wanted to hear, since the first time he said her name outside the bar. It was music to her ears- and down to her soul. She had definitely needed him.

She guided his face to hers and kissed him rigorously, her tongue invading his hot mouth and a deep, throaty groan escaping her lips. His thrusts quickened, his weight sturdy on one hand, the other working tirelessly, and the moving of his fingers was wet and unrelenting on her clitoris. He sent her over the edge and violently released her tensions at last.

" Oh...G-God!... Rick. Yes! " she gasped as she shattered, the zenith of her pleasure rattling her in the most unfathomable way. His name scratched and warmed her throat on the way out, leaving her drunk with appreciation. Coming undone, she mewled against his lips, squeezing her eyes shut as her orgasm shuddered through her in exquisite, trickling waves, from deep in her center, down to her curling toes and back up again, shooting up her spine and unraveling her brain, rocking her into a blissful buzz full of whimpering and staggering euphoria.

Rick propped up on his elbow and reached down to touch her face, still moving inside her and he ran his thumb over her parted lips, watching as she tightened around him repeatedly and rode out her climax with circling hips. She opened her mouth and flicked her tongue across his fingertip, taking his thumb into her wanton mouth and sucking it as she rode the last wave of her orgasm with crooning moans.

She could feel him harden further inside her and she opened her eyes, seeing his close, and by the look on his face, she knew he had been holding on, waiting for her release before he enjoyed his own. Michonne moved her hands from his hair, reaching down his back to cup his ass in her hands. She pushed him deeper inside her, guiding him where he wanted to be, and she moaned into his ear, encouraging him as his thrusts quickened with urgent need. " Cum inside me, Rick, " she whispered, and she knew that it was naughty, and risky, and the craziest thing she had probably ever said or done, but something deep down inside her needed every possible part of that profound and elemental craving for sex that humans longed for and shared with one another. And the way his eyes lit up only sealed it for her.

She had never felt such a supreme and all-consuming yearning for one man's seed; to be filled with it, to drip with it. She had to listen to her heart; to her desires. If she had learned anything in this test called life, it was that. And, just to press her sensitive buttons a little more, as if he had been waiting for her permission to even want it, Michonne felt a strong and telltale shudder race down Rick's spine. He bit her neck as softly as he could manage and licked her with a trembling tongue and she knew he was going to let go; she could feel it. It stunningly drove her to climax again, spinning her on a ride of pain and sharp, long pleasure on the tail end of his stony shaft slamming in and gliding urgently, and how could she deny herself the things she had ached for when Rick gave them to her so openly and willingly- so masterfully? She slid her tongue into his sweet mouth, kissing him passionately, and she sealed his fate as well with that kiss.

His hips bucked and he stiffened, his mouth falling open against hers and the top of his head falling back. No sound left his lips as he came, hard and forcefully, his pulsing, throbbing length hungry for the deepest place within her to leave his hot offerings. His nails sank into her buttock where his hand had rested and he plowed into her with an unmatched greed, spurting warm and plentiful in her depths. A low, guttural groan bubbled from his throat at last and he buried his face in her neck, moaning her name softly and repeatedly- like he couldn't believe his luck, like he had been waiting an eternity to whisper it to her- as he filled her up with his release. He slowed the pace of his trembling thrusts and emptied himself to completion deep inside her, coming down gradually and murmuring unintelligible praise against her sweaty skin between heated pecks of kisses.

Rick's knees buckled and he fell, turning over all at once and carrying Michonne with him to lay on top of his sweaty body. They were both absolutely breathless, and Michonne curled up against him as they tried to recover together, winding down from their shared high, their bodies sticky with perspiration and pressed together. She lifted her head to kiss him, propping herself up on his chest and tickling the soft hair that grew sparsely there. He stroked her skin and raised his other arm above his head as he relaxed against his pillows, his curls clumped together and sticking to his forehead.

" Well...damn. Was it good for you too?, " he said, smiling crookedly and they burst into a fit of laughter at his cliché question.

" What? Are you suprised? " Michonne asked, watching his handsome face as he recovered from his laughter, his colorful eyes twinkling. Rick shook his head and eyed her bashfully.

" No... I just...I knew when I met you tonight you were special...Different. And like I said, I've never done somethin' like this with anyone before but... I'm really glad I did. I'm real glad we met, Michonne. " Her stomach fluttered madly.

Damn, he's sweet, she thought, meeting his intense stare and they were lost in each other's gaze for a long moment again. Gosh, sex made human act in such a peculiar, yet natural way. Her whole body was fluttering. Michonne touched his face and kissed him sweetly, wondering what it was that she was feeling in her heart, knowing full well that this wouldn't be the last time she saw him. He kissed her back, moaning into her mouth and caressing her smooth, soft bottom. She pulled back with a sigh and smiled down at him, watching his cheeks turn red. He was dazed by her lips. Knowing the effect she had on him already was beyond arousing. She would have to escape those intense looks for a bit .

" Where's your bathroom?, " she murmured, anxious to clean herself up.

" Right through that door, " he said, pointing to the far side of the room with his chin. She hadn't even noticed his bedroom at all and she giggled, thinking of how preoccupied she was with fucking him when he had carried her off to his bed. The bookcase near his walk-in closet was stuffed full of knowledge and mysterious tales, colorful books dog-eared and bookmarked, one atop the surface and open wide. She grew curious, but in the grand scheme of things the decor, as nice as it was, didn't matter... She had, without a doubt, just had the best sex she had experienced in years- scratch that- perhaps in her life. And with a stranger nonetheless.

But she didn't want it to stay that way for long.

Rick's POV

Rick watched Michonne leave, her perfect round ass easy to admire and hard to ignore in all its beauty as she crossed his room and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind her. He stood up from his bed, wondering if she wanted privacy. Her smile and moan and laugh and body was stuck in his head like a delightful earworm. Pulling a pair of boxers from his dresser drawer, he slipped them on and left to get a glass of water, his head already aching from the whiskey. His home seemed livelier, as if it knew that company, a miracle in his home, was present.

Even from across the house and on the lower level, Rick could hear his cellphone ringing cheerfully. He downed his cold glass of water quickly and ran back upstairs, rushing into his bedroom and retrieving his discarded jeans from their resting place on the floor. He pulled his phone from the pocket and answered it.

" Hello? "

" Mr. Grimes? " The doctor from the hospital.

" Yes? " he replied. Oh no. His warm feelings of content after his fun with Michonne diminished abruptly and crippling guilt replaced it.

" I know it's quite late but I wanted to call and let you know the patient you asked to be notified about has just expired." The lack of emotion in the doctor's voice was astonishing. Rick was speechless. He looked down at his feet, clenching his fist, and his eyes filled with tears. " Mr. Grimes? Are you still there? "

" I thought he was stable?, " Rick croaked. " You said he was in stable condition. "

" The condition of the patient can change rapidly, Mr. Grimes. He took a turn for the worse. There was too much trauma to the brain. He hemorrhaged and we couldn't stop the death of brain tissue. The patient had a severe stroke and we could not revive him. " Rick was boiling with rage; with defeat. He wanted to scream; to punch something, to weep himself immovable.

" Thanks for letting me know, " he managed to mumble. " Goodbye. " He hung up and threw the phone with all his might, shattering it against the wall opposite of him. His knees grew slack and he somehow found the edge of his bed through clouded eyes, crumbling under the weight of his guilt. He heard Michonne rush from the bathroom and scurry over to him.

" Rick? " she said softly, her sweet voice alone bringing him to weeping tears. " Is everything alright? " Her presence soothed him a bit, calming a few frazzled nerves and he turned to face her.

" He's dead, " he blurted in a hoarse murmur, his eyes wide when he looked up at her. " I killed him. " She rushed towards him, not needing an explanation, and she climbed onto his bed and wrapped her arms around him. He weakened at her warm contact, turning into her embrace and burying his face against her bosom, embarrased as more tears burned their way into his eyes. He listened to her heartbeat, containing his cries as best as he could and failing miserably.

As he broke down, Michonne ran her fingers through his hair, kissing his curls and temple and caressing his trembling body. She quieted him with little coos and pulled him into bed, covering his toned, tired frame with the sheets and lulling him to sleep with gentle voice. He sobbed into her skin, her comfort incomparable to anything else that had brought him a semblance of relief in the recent months. But her lovemaking had sustained his battered heart. He released every drop of sorrow he had accumulated in the past year and drifted into heavy slumber in her arms, her heartbeat his soothing lullaby...

•••

Rick awoke early the next morning, his throat dry, his head pounding, and the most perfect, supple body pressed against his. His eyes widened when he realized that she had only gotten prettier. He admired Michonne's nakedness with a lazy smile, her dark skin a striking constract against his white and pale blue sheets. Michonne stirred with a moan as she awakened and opened her eyes slowly, smiling up at him, and her face made him warm all over. She stretched and moaned again, sitting up and glancing around him at the clock on his nightstand. Her illuminated brown eyes broadened.

" Shit, shit, shit! " she exclaimed, throwing back the sheets and hurrying from his bed. He groaned, a frown appearing and deepening in severity. He could have laid there forever with her.

" What's wrong? " he asked, watching her rummage through his closet uninvited and he laughed, wondering what she might be doing. His heart leapt at the thought of her stealing a piece of his clothing and wearing it for the day; getting her scent trapped in the stitches.

" Andrea and I have to work on an appeal for a case I lost yesterday, " she explained, finding a white button down linen shirt of his and throwing it on over her arms and shoulders quickly. She retrieved her skirt from its discarded place on the floor and slipped in on with a shimmy of her hips, rushing to a mirror near his closet again to glance at her reflection. She smoothed her locs, throwing them over her shoulder and turning to leave. Rick rose from his bed quickly, following after her as she ran swiftly down the staircase and into the living room.

She bent to pick up her heels, pulling them on and opening her purse to take out her cellphone. " Five missed calls? Damn, Andrea, let a girl live, " she mumbled. She pressed down on the screen and lifted the phone to her ear. Rick leaned back against the wall next to fireplace and watched her. " Don't start with me, " Michonne said instantly. " I'm fine. Come pick me up. " She turned to Rick. " What's your address, hun? " she asked. His heart jumped.

She called me 'hun', he thought blushing, smiling at her as he relayed his address. She told her friend, laughing and looking up at Rick as he stood there, drinking in her features: her ravishing face, her heavenly lips, her devastating scowl as she listened into the phone. The past night was on replay in the same way the song they danced to was. " Wow, she lives three blocks from here, " Michonne told him, smiling and walking about the living area. " I've been to her place a hundred times; I didn't even notice... " She turned her attention back to the phone at her ear. " 'Kay, I'll be ready. " She hung up, stuffing her phone into her purse. " She's gonna come pick me up... Shit," she said. " I didn't get to brush my teeth." She walked over to Rick's dining room table, grabbing an apple from the wooden fruit bowl and taking a big bite. " I'm gonna walk down the road to meet her, okay? I'm late enough as it is," she told him as she approached, hypnotic hips swaying as she strutted closer.

Rick was instantly saddened by the thought of her leaving, thinking of the immense comfort she had brought him, how she calmed him, how perfect they were together last night when they made love for the first time. How easy it was to speak to her with no worry of being judged. He missed her and she hadn't even left yet.

" How will I-, " he began, and Michonne pulled his face down to kiss him, lingering, and he tasted the sweetness of her apple on her lips. She took something from her purse and slipped it into his hand.

" Call me," she said against his mouth, pulling back to stare into his eyes. " Whenever. For whatever reason. Business or pleasure. " She winked, grinning, and then she softened. " And if you need to talk to someone about your day... I'm a good shoulder to cry on, I promise. " Rick smiled down at her, craving her kiss again already.

A horn honked outside and his heart sank. Michonne planted another sweet kiss on his lips and put her apple in his hand, turning to leave. " See ya later, Rick," she said over her shoulder, a knowing smile on her pouty lips.

" See ya, Michonne, " he called, and with a slam of his front door, she was gone, and both Rick and his house missed her instantaneously as he stood in the quiet of his once again lonely home.

He glanced down at his hands, the apple in one, a business card in the other.

Michonne Walker

Attorney At Law

Criminal Defense Dept.

Atlanta, Georgia

404- 221- 2016

He smiled, lifting the bright red apple to his mouth and examining her perfect bite. He took one of his own, the juices running down his chin and reminding him of the taste on her lips before she left.

She was perfect. And he was going to see her again.

For the first time in a long time, he had a bit of hope; confident about what the future held for him, no matter what mystery lay ahead for the rest of his no doubt difficult summer to come.

He chewed his bite of the apple, his mouth watering, his thoughts on Michonne in all her flawless beauty, both inside and out.

This is good, he thought.

A/N: I cannot believe a Rihanna song prompted this story but I am so glad it did. This was going to be a one-shot but, as demanded, it shall be a full length fic. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Let me know your thoughts and thank you for reading!