ANKLE DEEP image created by Jordan McKenzie


by Jordan McKenzie


It was ridiculous. Three o’clock in the freaking a.m. and he was relegated to sitting in the floor, fuming over an argument he should have won, and didn’t, and wondering why his opponent in said argument was sound asleep and he wasn’t. What the hell was that about? He had said he was sorry, so why was he the one left walking the floors in the middle of the night, worrying over how things would seem in the morning? It wasn’t as if she, the infuriating creature with the long hair currently spilling over onto his pillow, hadn’t been forthcoming in her opinions on the matter. She had been as frank and free speaking as ever and yet she wasn’t the one sitting on the cold floor until her backside felt like a block of ice; a block of ice, he might add, growing more and more painful by the second.


She murmured something in her sleep and the soft, peaceful tones exasperated him even more.


“Unbelievable,” he muttered quietly and jerked his head back, annoyed. “Ouch,” he growled a little louder when his head connected with the mahogany sideboard of the heavy king size bed. Rolling to his knees, he raised a hand to the small pump knot forming on the back of his skull and let loose a string of unsavory curses. The white flashes momentarily dancing in front of his eyes faded, allowing him to see the fingers of his probing hand were indeed not covered in blood. Alright, so he hadn’t hit it hard enough to have even broken the skin, but it would have served her right if she had been wakened in the middle of the night to find her lover unconscious on the floor, blood-soaked and pitifully forsaken.


Forsaken? Damn, he must have hit his head harder than he thought. Who the hell uses a word like forsaken nowadays?


He pulled on the sideboard and hoisted himself to his feet. “Damn,” he mumbled grumpily through a heavy sigh and stood staring at the woman in his bed. She was beautiful. All five foot seven inches of her was absolutely exquisite. And she was naked, in his bed, covered by nothing more than a thin white sheet. Well, almost covered. Her left foot had escaped the confines of the delicate fabric and lay wonderfully exposed to the mercy of the night.


Despite being aggravated by the sheer audacity of the woman, he quickly realized why he was so perturbed. He cared -- about how she felt, about what she thought. He wasn’t entirely sure when it had happened, but she had become important to him. She was bright, beautiful, funny and very good at what she did. As a profiler for the department, she actually spent more time with Josiah than himself, but he had found her so intriguing he had made it his business to get to know her. She had a God-given talent for reading people, and it was that gift which simultaneously attracted him and often times made him wonder why she would waste her time on him. Who in their right mind would want to be around someone so ‘messed up’? Not that he was socially inept or awkward. No, he was actually very good at what he did as well, but his emotions, though hidden well, were in a constant state of chaos. The fact he had been able to maintain any kind of relationship with her these past few weeks surprised him to no end. She had already begun to ‘learn’ him and still she hadn’t run screaming into the night. He huffed a laugh. Truthfully, she probably knew him better than anyone now. She knew when he knew she was right, and she knew when he knew he was wrong. Damn, how could he win with that kind of insight? How he could he win when he could never in a million years put that sentence together again?


He rubbed his temples. His head hurt and the more he tried to recall their dispute after dinner, the more he realized he couldn’t. Of course he understood the subject of their disagreement hadn’t really been the issue. The real argument had begun when he told her, rather loudly and in no uncertain terms, to shut up, with every tell tale sign of fury at his disposal short of hand gestures. Oh yeah, not a good move there, Ace. Telling a woman to shut up… Who was he kidding? Telling anyone to shut up while disputing the ownership of right or wrong was simply asinine. He hated it, why wouldn’t she?


Raising green eyes to the ceiling, he let out a low, self-deprecating growl and admitted he had less sense than a Billy goat – hell, when he thought about it, he could see the comparison was actually an insult to the goat. When he glanced back at the bed, it occurred to him she probably already knew that and still she remained. She would be mad, and want to back over him three or four times with his own vehicle, but she apparently, beyond his ability to fathom why, wasn’t going to make a hasty departure tonight. And that made him happy.


He gazed at her, caught up in the curves of her body beneath the delicate sheet until his eyes wandered to the lone foot that had escaped it. The window ushered moonlight across her smooth skin as its sheers exhaled a sigh of cool night air. Both ghosted the curve of her arch and the swell of her heel, and he realized it was the most beautiful foot he had ever seen. But as striking as it was with its soft pale skin and perfectly shaped toes, it was her ankle that drew his attention the most. The delicate shadows of night revealed its soft angles, and its seductive allure drew him nearer. His eyes tracked the light gleaming on that ankle for as far as it could reach. Then happily, thoughtfully, they followed the darkness that burrowed its way beneath the sheet towards the curvature of her leg, the roundness of her hip and the softness of her… his mind nearly overloaded when he thought of the moist warmth where that gorgeous leg met its mate.


Growing decidedly uncomfortable, he shifted his weight from one leg to the other before tearing his eyes from her and looking down at himself. His appreciation of her exposed limb was growing, literally, between his own legs, resulting in a rigid desire becoming more and more difficult to ignore. His need for her didn’t surprise him, but the fact the sight of a single ankle could arouse him so quickly completely unnerved him.


Rattled, he sat on the edge of the bed, turned his back to her, and tried to think of something else. It would do him little good to start something now, especially since they had been fighting. She would simply wake, remind him he was an ass then roll over and go back to sleep, leaving him angry, disappointed and as hard as stone. No, I’ve made my bed, he groaned pitifully with a sad shake of the head. Too bad I can’t lie in it.


She blew a long, sleep-tempered sigh and pushed her knee free of the sheet. When her toes bumped his leg, he startled, stood and hovered with the hope she was awake. She wasn’t. Crap, now there was more of her anatomy from which he couldn’t take his eyes. He felt his discomfort swell even further and leaned forward to grab the sideboard with both hands. Who are you kidding? He snarled with a glance between his elbows, taking in the sight of his rising shaft. You argued, big deal. You’re a man; get over it! Just kiss and make up. Thoughts of what he wanted to do to her flittered vividly through his mind and he knew kissing was only the tiniest bit of what he had planned.


Releasing his death grip on the mahogany support, he leaned over his lover’s foot, wrapped warm fingers around her ankle and slowly planted kisses there. It wasn’t until he had followed the moonlight up the length of her shin to the inside of her knee that his tongue demanded the right of participation, and when it did, it did so greedily and with great enthusiasm. It plowed into the tender skin inside her thigh, leaving a damp trail, and when it flattened itself just inches from its intended target, it elicited a moan from her that undeniably encouraged its climb. Unable to refuse her, he crawled onto the bed and stretched out between her legs, never letting go the kiss against the sensitive flesh. She moaned again and parted her knees further as his mouth moved higher and higher. Just as he slid his hands beneath her hips, she raised her head and pondered him with sleepy, pleasured eyes. So sexy was her gaze he nearly found his release on the spot.


“Just thought I’d apologize,” he explained in a husky voice, holding her eyes with his own. Oh God, he prayed, please don’t pull away. His worry dissolved when her lips pressed into a kiss, and her ankles pressed into his sides.


She reached a hand to him and he reached his mouth to her.





She had been lying awake for hours listening to him pace the floors. Their disagreement after dinner had set the tone for the rest of the evening and neither of them had been willing to change it. Then, when he decided he had had enough and tried to shut her out with a defensive ‘shut the hell up’, she made the choice to scream her own displeasure and turn away to go take a shower. Why did he do that? Why did he feel it so necessary to keep her at arm’s length just because they disagreed? It was a quarrel not a declaration of war. She wanted to keep talking until they found common ground, but he was determined to throw up a barrier she was obviously not meant to penetrate. Furious, she grabbed her robe from the back of her chair, stomped off and slammed the bathroom door behind her. The man was infuriating. Granted, he had peeked his head around the door and offered a half-hearted apology, but his lack of sincerity grated on her nerves so badly she’d thrown the soap at him. She groused under the hot water another ten minutes but when it did nothing to alleviate her anger, she rinsed, dried and stormed off to bed.


Feigning sleep immediately and knowing it would drive him crazy, she laid in the dark and thought about what she had done. At first, she could do little more than gnash her teeth, but once she had had time to cool off, she wished she could take it all back. What had she been thinking? She knew he had issues, had suffered such loss in his life that he was afraid to discuss too much too soon for fear he might destroy whatever chance he had at a happy relationship, and here she was pushing and digging as if she had a right to know his most intimate thoughts and fears. What was wrong with her, profiling him, treating him like an offender in one of her cases? He was not her job. He was her lover, her friend and if she dared to hope, perhaps one day much, much more. She had no plans of leaving him, not over something as trivial as a disagreement, but she understood it might take some doing to convince him of that.


He paced the floors like a caged animal and she listened until the sound of his irate huffs softened into heavy sighs and she knew he was no longer enraged. But the energy he had built with his fury simmered so close to the surface it left him visibly frustrated. Frustrated to the point his sexual tension was palpable and quite frankly, his lithe movements across the floor with no clothes on were leaving her much the same way.


Under the cover of darkness, she peered at him from her pillow. The way the moonlight hugged his back, butt and legs was enough to make any woman lose herself, but when he turned around to reveal himself semi-erect and more than ready to begin a long night of passion she almost shouted a crude “screw it” and made good on the threat. Then he paused to stare at her in the darkness and she nearly came unglued. Her skin actually tingled beneath his gaze, but as starved as she was for his touch she was at this moment unquestionably more stubborn. She couldn’t let him know she had been watching so she waited and waited. Finally he stopped staring, sat on the bed and unknowingly gave her the opportunity she needed to spur him into action.


Lazily, she stretched. Not much, just enough to ‘accidentally’ bump him with her foot. She thought for a moment he would resist her when he stood, grabbed hold of the sideboard and lowered his head to stare intently at something below. It wasn’t until she realized what he was staring at, bent over the way he was, that she knew he was ready to cave. Having glimpsed the swollen member expanding between his legs, she was ready to cave herself, but she held on, invisibly curling her hands in the darkness. He would make his move soon -- she knew it, and when he did, she would convince him in her own way, and deliciously in her own time, she was here to stay.


As she contemplated her feelings, his lips found her ankle and his soothing licks and bites nearly made her jump. She wanted him, wanted to reach for his length, take him in her hands and guide him to her, but her thoughts were interrupted when his tongue flattened on the tender spot inside her knee and unhurriedly trailed her thigh. An uncontrollable moan climbed her chest and she knew the jig was up. Good, enough was enough. It was time to show him how she felt.

She moaned and instinctively parted her knees when his tongue moved again. Then she raised her head, opened her eyes and stared at the man who cupped her rear end and literally held her in the palm of his hand. He mumbled something about an apology and stared at her with a look that would make her forgive him anything. She responded with a smile, tilted her head back and reached for him as his lips returned to their work between her legs. His mouth opened against her and his tongue began its search for that one spot he knew would overwhelm her. He licked and sucked and parted her with his fingers then pulled away to blow a warm breath across her flesh. Encouraged by her shiver and low feline growls, he raised her hips higher and boldly drove his tongue deep inside. She slipped her hands around his neck and silently begged him for more. Sensing her need, he happily obliged, first sliding one wet finger inside and then another, wiggling them slowly until he set her adrift on a wave of pleasure. Then, out of nowhere, added a third and pressed harder and faster until he got her attention. Her eyes flew open as she grabbed for him. Hearing her moan with excitement, he held his fingers rigidly in place for her to rub against, then climbed further up the bed until his mouth could reach her breasts. He hungrily continued his licking and sucking until her nipples grew stiff and tender and she whimpered even louder.


Thrilled by her response, he turned his fist and curved his fingers upward, rubbing hard and deep until her muscles tightened around them. She was getting close and he knew her body well enough to know this time she would come to him hard and fast. He loved that fire in her, and on occasion took great pleasure in watching her orgasms consume her, but this time he wanted more than anything to be inside her when it happened. He needed to share with her that powerful feeling of coming together, of ‘being’ together, in every way. And he found he wanted that feeling to last, longer than just this moment in this night, but into tomorrow and the next day and then the next.


Her hands swept over his back to skim across his hips before they reached for and took hold of his erection. He was hard, thick, and as hot as she had ever known him and as much as she wanted to take him in her mouth and leisurely taste him she knew there was no time. They were too close. She was too close.


“Please,” she pleaded, that one word speaking volumes as she spread her legs and pulled him to her. He responded quickly, pulling her hands from his aching member and positioning himself carefully atop her. He listened to her choke on a cry when he pulled his fingers away, and the sound of her disappointment delighted him all the more. There was only one thing she wanted more than his tongue and fingers, so he gave it to her, parting her, placing the tip of his throbbing member against her warm, wet folds and gently guiding himself inside. He took his time despite her urgent grab with her legs around his back as she tried to force him further, faster. Those lovely ankles of hers, which had been his undoing in the first place, pressed down as hard as they could, but still he moved slowly rather than ram her. His plan was to make her feel every inch of him as he pushed his heavy shaft inside, to enjoy the friction their bodies made as he pumped into her again…


…and again…

… and again.


Every time he pulled back, away from her heat, she was sure he would leave her empty and alone; but he didn’t, not once. He came back into her, deeper than the time before, filling her completely, reminding her how beautifully they fit. 


Ever so slowly he moved, back and forth.




…and out.


In… and…


She pulled at him, squeezed him as hard as she could to keep him from leaving her. The emptiness she felt every time his length threatened to slip from her was overwhelming and in the corner of her mind she wondered if on some level that’s what he felt. Since the beginning, she had sensed in him a great loneliness and over the past couple of weeks had come to recognize the empty hole hovering so threateningly near his heart. Was this what he endured? The fear that if he cared for a woman and let her ‘move inside’ him that she would soon pull away and leave him alone and empty. The loss, the isolation was devastating. So much so, she knew she would do anything to keep him there… including wrap her legs around his back and physically force him back inside. “Don’t… leave… me,” she begged in rhythm with his movements.




… leave…


… me.”


The hoarse request floated past his ear at the same time she tightened around his cock, and the combination satisfied a longing he had never been able to fulfill. Those words were priceless to a man starved for companionship, even if consciously he was too stubborn to admit it. He shifted his weight against her, drew her tighter still and pushed himself so deep he was sure he would touch her soul. The sensation was so intense he thought for a moment he might lose control, but the look of delight on her face kept his greed in check and slowed him down. He wanted this moment to last. He wanted to find a rhythm that would ultimately take them to a place of ecstasy. To a place where they could thrill in one another in a way no one else could touch or take away. Together they would make it.








Then it happened. She clawed the muscles in his back as a mind-shattering release drew the tight ache low in her belly upward into her brain. The insatiable fire that had been between her legs had burned with such passion she thought she might actually cry, but it was the joy that flame sent up her spine that overwhelmed her with a fevered scream.  She was still circling the heavens when she felt him tighten and groan, then explode inside her as shudder after blissful shudder racked his body. He was still pushing against her as he collapsed, breathing like a freight train, shaking with exhaustion and clinging to her as if his life depended on it.


For a long time after, they laid in silence, his head between her breasts, her hand threading his hair. Serenity seemingly embraced them both, but his mind was awhirl with thoughts of how they had been with each other this time. It was different, something had changed, whether with her or with him he wasn’t sure, but things were definitely different. They had gone some place special, together, and they had lingered there out of choice. Not because he had wanted it so badly, but because she had wanted to be there with him.


And then there were those delicious words she had said to, no, begged of him: “Don’t leave me. Never leave me.” Granted she had been in the throes of some serious sex, but it was more than that. He knew it, down deep in his bones. She didn’t just want him, she needed him and he could feel it.


He could feel? The thought surprised him so much he lifted his head and stared at her.


“Are you alright?’ she asked.


All right? Yes, he thought. Probably more all right than I’ve been in a long time. “I just,” he said against her belly just before he kissed it. “I…”


She waited patiently.


He didn’t know how to say what he wanted so he changed the subject. “I’m sorry,” he said so softly she almost missed it.


“For what?”


“For arguing.”


“Couples are going to argue.”


Couples. Now there was a delightfully revealing word. “Probably, still I’m sorry.”


“Me too.”


“Funny thing is,” he added, “I can’t remember what it was we were fighting about.”


She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t really want me to remind you, do you?”


He grinned. “Well it did lead to, uh,” he motioned between them, “making nice.”


She frowned.


“I remember enough to know I shouldn’t have told you to shut up. That was definitely the wrong thing to say.”


“It was.”


“Yeah well…”


“And a complete waste of time.”


“I’m sorry.”


“There are much better ways to deal with a situation than to tell someone to shut up.”


“Alright, alright, I said I was sorry,” he reminded her.


“You’re clueless, aren’t you?”


He raised himself onto his elbows. “Now wait a minute. Are you trying to start another fight?”


She pulled him to her without a word.


“This is ridiculous,” he complained. “You want to argue about why we argued. If we do,  you know I’m just going to end up in deep… mghpff…”


Leaning forward, she kissed him; short and sweet to begin with, then hot and wet as she forced his mouth open and searched for his tongue with her own. After eliciting several grunts and groans from him, she pulled away and beamed. “Now then. Lesson learned?”


“Hunh?” he asked, a little confused, a lot aroused.


“I just shut you up without a word and, uh,” she motioned between them, “we don’t need an excuse to make nice.” She slid a foot enticingly between his legs, gently nudged them apart then placed herself between his ankles. He watched her eye them seductively, lick her lips and sigh. “Now then, if memory serves me correctly,” she said naughtily, “ankles can lead to the most wonderful places.”


“W-what?” he stammered in surprise when she kissed his ankle lightly and quickly traveled up his leg, bypassing his knee and thigh and heading straight for his groin.


Her eyes twinkled with an enticing mix of seduction and promise as she took him in her hand. “Hang on, my love, because I only plan to go to those places with you.” There was absolutely no doubt in her mind... she would make a believer out of him yet.







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Jordan McKenzie 2009