EDIT: I'm so sorry that this issue with it sounding like Unlawful Carnal Knowledge came up. There's a really long explanation about how that happened (which I would be happy to explain to anyone who is pissed off/curious) but the important thing is that it was COMPLETELY UNINTENTIONAL. Sidalee, you have my permission to be very very very angry with me. BUT this is a new edited version that hopefully doesn't sound as much like her (although honestly, I didn't edit it that much from the original version that was written back months before I even started this story, so if it still sounds like her, I'm sorry but I tried). Again, I'm SO SORRY.

So… this is the chapter y'all have been waiting for (I think).

All I'm gonna say is…

If you don't like extremely explicit smut, stop reading when it changes to present tense. Start again a bit before the break.

And don't hate me. Please? Twists and turns remember?

Quote:

"But seduction isn't making someone do what they don't want to do. Seduction is enticing someone into doing what they secretly want to do already." – Waiter Rant blog

H5-0 * H5-0 * H5-0

It was too much.

She hated just admitting that.

But seriously. The cold showers at night weren't helping anymore. She would wake up in the middle of the night and the only way to get back to sleep was to slide her fingers down into her underwear. She found herself screaming Steve's name as she came and wondered if the neighbors could hear.

Cause that wouldn't be embarrassing or anything.

Actually, what would be really embarrassing would be if someone walked into the locker room at the office. Cause sometimes, on days he was being particularly attractive (which was pretty much all the time), she would find herself in there, trying to keep her moans quiet. Sometimes she would end up in there multiple times.

So as she thought about going to bed after preparing herself for the op the next evening by reading the case file for the billionth time, all she could think of was how she needed him.

This would not do.

H5-0 * H5-0 * H5-0

"Whatcha doing, isn't like midnight in LA?" Steve asked Mary, on the phone with his sister for the first time since she had left a few weeks ago. He was sitting on his couch in his living room, looking over case files and preparing to have Kono go undercover. He didn't like that it was so soon after her injury, but so be it.

Plus, he couldn't figure out the weird sexual tension thing they had going on. It was like he had this need to push her against a wall and have his way with her, all the time. It was really getting to be a problem, one that could only be fixed by getting off and cold showers. Multiple times a day.

"Well, I was going to go see this guy but he stood me up. So I thought I would call and see if you were around," Mary said.

"I'm touched," Steve said sweetly.

"Don't let it go to your head," she joked.

Steve laughed before turning serious again. "Seriously Mer, what's up? You haven't called since you left."

She sighed. "Just missing the islands I guess. You know I haven't thought of them as home in a long time but ever since I visited, I guess I feel more of connection again." She laughed dejectedly. "Wow, that sounds cheesy."

"No it doesn't. I know what you mean. I never really thought of it as home until I came back."

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Not letting me feel like a sentimental idiot."

He chuckled. "No problem, Mer."

"So how are things going?"

"Good. What about you? Who's this guy who stood you up?"

"Well apparently he's no one and I'm fine. Speaking of seeing someone…" she hinted slyly.

He laughed again. He actually really loved talking with his sister. She could be so funny. "No Mer, I'm not seeing anyone." Not that there isn't someone I'd like to see, he thought.

"Come on Steve! Even you have to settle down sometime! I really don't understand this whole thing with Kono, why don't you just ask her out already?"

"It's complicated…" He paused, as he looked toward the front door, confused. Someone had just knocked. At 10 pm. Who the hell shows up uninvited at 10 pm?

He stood and walked over to the door as he talked to Mary. "I'm not particularly interested at the moment." Even as he said it he knew it was a lie.

"Not interested! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Uhh…" he murmured distractedly as he processed the sight in front of him.

Kono stood, one forearm resting against the doorframe, a wine bottle held in her hand.

He looked down and away. "Yeah… can I call you back tomorrow?"

Mary seemed slightly surprised but said, "Sure."

He hung up abruptly, not caring how rude it was. But he had good reason, he thought, as he quickly looked back up.

Kono let her arm fall from the doorframe, stalking towards him. She reached back and shut the door, kicking her flip-flops off as she started to talk.

"I have to go undercover and bring down Henry Sterling without violating his civil liberties." She was walking towards him, a predatory look on her face, forcing him to walk backwards through his living room.

"I can't have any distractions," she said as he stumbled on the coffee table and she placed the wine bottle on it.

"Uhhh okay…" he said, wary but also excited by the things she seemed to be suggesting. He suddenly realized that the backs of his knees were about to hit the leg rest of his couch.

And that predatory look suddenly became one of the sexiest things he had ever seen. She looked calm and collected, with a touch of amusement in her eyes as she watched him fumble. Her voice became quieter and lowered seductively as she purred, "So let's just do this and get it over with."

He sat down on the couch, never breaking eye contact with her. "So we won't be distracted?" he said softly, rather breathlessly, as she straddled his lap with a grin, one forearm coming to rest on his shoulder and the other hand sitting lightly on his waist.

"Outstanding," he breathed, not trusting his voice. She grinned down at him.

Her nose touched his cheek softly, hesitating for a microsecond before she pushed her lips down against his with more determination and resolve than he had expected. Her hand slid to his well-muscled shoulder, pushing him back into the couch. Her kiss turned rough and passionate, she wanted him and she wanted him now. It was more intimate, more intense, even than he had ever imagined, but maybe that was because – holy fuck – this was actually happening.

He didn't know how to react.

He was leaning on his elbows, hands twitching up toward her at his sides. For the first time ever, he thought, he was afraid to touch her, not sure how far he could take this. He quickly opened his mouth to her, fighting back the questions that came with her sudden change in attitude and the moan of pleasure that might push things past her limits.

She slid one hand up his shoulder, dropping it to the couch behind him and separated their bodies, using her arm to support herself as she hovered above him. Her head dipped down to continue to kiss him passionately, her lips smirking against his as he reached up to meet her as well, obviously unwilling to break the kiss. The things her tongue could do…

Suddenly, he was very sure of exactly how far he could take this.

He hadn't been sure what she was intending for them to do tonight. He hadn't been sure how intimate this was going to get. He hadn't been sure if she would let him touch her, let him love her the way he wanted to.

But when she started undoing the buttons of his dress shirt less than a minute after she started kissing him, he suddenly knew what she was here to do.

This was really just a one-night stand, a need to get the sexual tension they had been feeling for weeks off her shoulders, so it didn't get in the way of her work. He was not at all sure that that was a good idea. In fact, he was quite positive it was not. But honestly, he had wanted this for so long and made that perfectly clear to her so many times that he didn't care what happened after this. Yes, he wanted a relationship with her. But even if she didn't want that long-term thing, at least they would know how it felt to be together.

She had gotten his shirt unbuttoned already and he sat up, pulling their bodies flush together as she pushed it down and off his arms. She smiled as he gained confidence. He wanted her. Well, it wasn't like she didn't already know that, but that wasn't the point.

He wanted her. (He desired her in that way that was so much more than sex.)

He wanted her. (Somehow, out of all the women he had met, he had chosen her.)

He wanted her. (She never thought that someone as amazing as him would choose someone as messed up as her.)

How the hell did she manage that?

When James had left, she had dismissed the idea of ever meeting someone. Not because no one would ever want her. Not because she would never want someone. Not because wanting was somehow out of the picture. But because she didn't think that she would ever want a relationship again. They were messy and complicated and never real.

But now… he wanted her.

Okay.

So maybe this wasn't the best idea she had ever had.

His hands were exploring her body, fingers splayed across her back, tangled in her hair. He held her tightly, possessively, as if afraid she would run at any moment but the way her knuckles were turning white in a death grip on his shoulders told a different story, one where he was making her want to stay with him until the end of time. The calluses on his fingers were rough against her scalp and heightened the intense pleasure that was all around her, radiating from the points of contact she had with his muscular body. She let her own hands explore, not wanting to let him get control so quickly, when this was her idea. His hands found the bottom of her shirt and began to pull it up, breaking their kiss to pull it over her head.

As he pulled it off and flung it to the ground, their eyes met for a half second. He stared at the flush of her cheeks, the red swollen look of her extremely kissable lips, the tan of her skin and the depth of her eyes. All she saw were his eyes, those bright, mesmerizing ocean blue eyes that always seemed to see straight through her, into the depths of her heart and her emotions. He always knew exactly what she needed.

And she needed him.

She knew that he had figured out that she didn't come here out of love, but lust and desire. And she realized that he really didn't care because he's been just as distracted as her.

Why did that bother her? Why did she suddenly want him to think more of what they are doing? After all it had been her idea. She didn't have any right to want him to be attached when she was purposefully trying to keep this compartmentalized and unmeaning. Yeah, this definitely was not a good idea at all.

But he's kissing her again and she forgets everything.

His lips and tongue dance around hers and his hands are everywhere, exploring her body. How many times has she imagined this while she lay in bed at night? Too many to count, she knows that. She feels the burning need somewhere in her lower abdomen and she knows exactly what she is doing when she pushes him back into the couch.

They're kissing wildly, passionately, their fingers tugging at each other's clothes. He thinks of Danny and the unlocked front door and the way this is so spontaneous with such a lack of foreplay, but she's taken off her bra – finally – and he sits up quickly, his mouth meeting her aroused skin.

A gasp turns into a moan from her lips and her head tips back, eyes closed. He looks up at her and marvels at how beautiful she is for a moment, before realizing that she is pushing off his boxers as he lays reverent, open mouthed kisses against her chest and neck. Her skin is flushed, a sheen of sweat making her body slick, and he doesn't think he's ever been so hot in his life.

He belatedly realizes that they're naked and she's pushing him back into the couch again. His hands fall on her hips and run up her sides, along her stomach and back and the way her skin and muscle ripples under his rough, work-hardened fingers is one of the most attractive things he's ever seen. She hopes he never stops touching her like that, because those calluses do the strangest things to her body, make her skin burn, make her want more, if that's possible.

She raises her hips and slides onto him and they both moan with the realization and relief that they are finally doing this. He swears as she starts to move because – oh god – he's finally inside the woman he's in love with and she's so hot and wet and ready for him and he tries not to come right there.

She rides him like it's the first and last time all wrapped up in one.

It probably is.

But they're not going to think about that right now.

She's making noises, noises she's never heard come out of her before and she throws her head back as her hands run against his muscular chest. He's panting and when she leans forward to kiss his mouth, his chest. She lays open kisses wherever she hits skin and the change of angle makes his gasp and moan and, god, it's a fucking miracle he hasn't come yet.

She sits up again and comes suddenly, the way the noises she's making shoot up an octave his first indicator. She digs her nails into his chest and he knows that she'll leave red half-moon marks on him, but he doesn't care, because she's so tight now and all he wants is to come with her.

He flips them over, hitching her leg higher up on his waist so he can drive into her moments after she comes down. He takes his turn to kiss her messily on her mouth, her face, her neck, her chest, nowhere is safe. One hand is roaming her back and she can already feel herself rising again.

She grabs the armrest above her head with one hand to steady herself, to let him drive into her, and her other hand scrambles to find a purchase somewhere, eventually setting on his shoulder. He thrusts into her hard, over and over, and she moans and pants and gasps and this is how he's always imagined it. He wants her under him, lost in a pleasure that is completely his doing. He wants to see this strong woman let go, because of him, for him.

"Fuck, Steve," she moans deeply and breathlessly as she comes again and it's too much, she's so tight again and she's so beautiful and he's so in love with her and so he comes right after her.

He tries, he really does, not to collapse on her, but he's pretty sure his body turned to jelly after he came. So he tries to fall only partly on top of her.

They lay there for a moment, trying to cool down, trying to catch their breath.

"Fuck."

It was all she could say and he could not agree more.

But then she raised her arm and tried to run her hand through her hair and he wondered if maybe she meant that in a different way.

"Fuck," she said again, anger and disappointment lacing her voice. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Hmm?" he questions into her shoulder.

"I wasn't supposed to want more," she whispers.

He lifted himself back up on his arms and looked down at her, surprised and hopeful. "Are you saying that you're reconsidering?"

Her look back up at him revealed nothing. She didn't speak for a long moment, just looking at him, her face unreadable.

"What I'm saying is that all I want to do right now is go upstairs to your bedroom and do that all over again."

It wasn't exactly what he wanted. But it was a start.

And he really couldn't think of a better idea right now anyway.

He leaned down and kissed her, softer than before. She tried not to moan but it was too much and she still wanted him so badly. She deepened the kiss and they knew that nothing would ever be enough to satiate this carnal desire for each other. He pulled her quickly off the couch and wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her backward to the stairs, never breaking their passionate kiss.

Somehow they made it up the stairs and she wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him carry her into his bedroom. He threw her on the bed and gazed down at her long, lean body spread out before him. He was sure that he had never seen anything so beautiful before and as she gazed up at him, a small smile on her face, she couldn't think of anything more gorgeous than him either. Then he was on her, kissing her deeply, and time and coherence seemed to disappear.

H5-0 * H5-0 * H5-0

She woke up naked in an empty and unfamiliar bed. Except that it wasn't unfamiliar, the way the color of the walls wasn't unfamiliar and the smell was definitely more than slightly familiar.

Because it was Steve's smell, one she knew well, one she had dreamed about. And it was the color of the walls in Steve's house and the bed was definitely the one she had slept in so many times while he had been taking care of her.

And she let her head fall back against the pillows because she had honestly missed the way Steve's bed conformed to her body, the airy softness of his sheets, the sound of the waves coming in from the open balcony door, and most of all the smell. The smell of him. The way it wrapped around her, like a protective blanket and made her feel like this, this place where it smelled like him, was home.

She let herself doze slightly after she checked the clock. It was six am and there was no way she needed to be up yet. She was sore (she didn't want to think about how rough things had gotten last night and how likely it was that she had embarrassing bruises) and his bed felt amazing around her. She let her mind drift with the waves as she fluffed the blankets comfortably around her.

She heard the door downstairs open and close a while later and she thought that Steve must be home from what she assumed was his morning run and swim. She briefly considered that she should have left before he came back, to save themselves the awkward conversation. But the worse thing was that he probably would have cornered her at work to ask about it. Work! Really, the man has no sense of protecting my dignity, she thought ruefully.

She heard him come up the stairs and feigned sleep, but he only glanced at her once as he dropped what looked like their clothes from the night before on a chair. Then he went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He was in there for a few minutes (crazy Navy man, she thought) before she heard the water shut off.

And then the door opened and she barely cracked her eyes to see.

Oh, dear God.

He walked in, still dripping slightly, with the towel clutched around his waist. He glanced quickly at her, assumed she was still asleep and turned toward the closet, hanging the towel on a hook nearby.

She stared at his perfectly formed naked body as he dressed. She watched the way his body moved fluidly through the monotonous motions.

It might have been a one-night stand, but she wasn't embarrassed. In her opinion, life was too short for that. Particularly in their line of work, when life was, in all probability, going to be pretty short.

By the time he turned around, she had composed her face into an appreciative smirk.

They had a long staring match before he said, "Sorry. I thought you were asleep."

"Not any more…"

He grinned shyly. "Not like you haven't seen it before."

She chuckled softly. "That's for sure." She slid her body to the edge of the bed and flipped the covers off, walking over near where Steve was standing, watching her with appreciative fascination. She pulled on her underwear and bra, sort of wishing he would stop staring. Her shirt was missing so she pulled on her jean shorts and ran her fingers through her hair as she walked out the room, his eyes following her.

Downstairs, she found her shirt pretty much under the couch. She heard Steve follow her, grab a half-empty cup of coffee off the kitchen counter and then watch as she slid her shirt on. She went over to her shoes near the front door.

"You could stay for breakfast," he said hopefully, moving towards her as she slipped on the flip-flops.

"I've got to go get ready for work. Insertion prep before tonight, remember?"

He nodded, disappointed. "Yeah, I get it."

She looked at him, pausing at the front door. "You know that this was just a one time thing, right?"

She was completely denying the fact that they both knew that this once wouldn't be enough.

She watched as he fiddled with his coffee mug, looking down into it and swallowing hard. She had never seen him more… what? Hurt? Nervous? He almost never showed emotion, even with her, so she didn't really know.

Suddenly he looked up. "I'm not gonna lie to you, Kono," he said in a much stronger voice than she had been expecting. "I care about you. If you were willing to give us a chance, I would fight for us. But if not…" He swallowed again, glancing down quickly. "If not, then it was a really good night."

She was taken aback. She took a deep breath, trying to center herself before she spoke. "Steve, I'm your subordinate. It's completely inappropriate, it could jeopardize our credibility and ruin my career. I'm not going to risk all that." She frowned with confusion and let the irrational anger bubble up, creating a protective shield around her heart. "You should know all that Steve. The fact that you are even considering a relationship with me is just… wrong, on so many levels."

He smiled a small, hurt smile. "I can't help it, Kono. The heart wants what the heart wants. I can't do anything about it, but if you can… good for you."

And she couldn't.

Deep down, she knew that she was in love with him, had been for a while and always would be. But her reasons, her logic that she had spent hours, days considering was too good and too accurate to ignore.

They couldn't be together. It was as simple as that.

So she simply said, "I'm sorry." And then she slipped out the front door, got in her car and went home to get ready for the insertion that evening.

H5-0 * H5-0 * H5-0

He sighed as the door clicked shut and he heard her car pull out. He knew that she was technically right. It would look bad if they were together.

But he hadn't lied. Not to himself and not to her.

She was the one who was lying.

He knew that she felt it too. The deep connection. The feeling that wherever the other was, was home. It was right.

He wasn't a mind reader and he couldn't see inside Kono's car as she drove away.

He didn't see when she sighed and felt the tears start to well in her eyes.

He didn't see when she had to pull over only a few blocks from his house because the tears were coming too fast.

"Damn it!" she said quietly to herself, hitting the steering wheel with both hands and then resting her forehead against it, hands on either side of her head.

She let herself cry. It was the only thing she could do. She had to get it out, let it go.

If only he had noticed how hard it was for her to leave, to gather her courage to walk out of that house that was so him, and therefore so comforting and home-like. Why couldn't he see that she hated leaving that wonderful space, where they were together (which felt so right, it should be illegal) to go back to her empty, lonely little apartment? It felt so obvious to her and she felt like she was doing a horrible job of hiding it, but he couldn't see it.

Why hadn't he stopped her? Told her, forced her to admit that she had feelings for him.

But that one was obvious. He was too much of a gentleman. He wanted to give her all the time and space she needed. He wanted her to never regret their relationship.

Which told her just how much he loved her.

She hit her forehead gently against the steering wheel. She could just turn around, go back, tell him everything. She could see it now: a confession, his surprise, then more mind blowing, but tender and passionate sex. They would walk into work, holding hands and laughing together…

And there it was. Smack in front of her face. The title read: Why One Cannot Date A Coworker. Because then they lose all professionalism and credibility and their feelings get in the way.

"Motherfucking, stupid ass reasons!" she yelled to herself, sitting up and hitting the steering wheel hard. "I just want to be with him! I lo–"

She snapped her traitor mouth shut, sitting up straight and instantly calming herself. She would not say that word. Saying it out loud, even just to herself, would require actually admitting it to herself.

She wasn't prepared for that.

She took several deep, shaky breaths and wiped her face before pulling away from the curb.

She might go to the gym and duke it out with the punching bag before work.