Have A Little Faith

The show ER and all characters and situations borrowed from it are property of Constant-C, NBC, Warner Bros., etc. This fanfiction is for entertainment only and no profit is derived from it.  Note: This story contains language and consensual, heterosexual sex scenes which are inappropriate for those under 18.


Have A Little Faith

by Elizabeth
Eliz1296@aol.com


Thanks as always to my editors, Claire and Jordan, for their time, their skill and their faith in me. :-) Feedback welcomed.

This story takes place after "Obstruction of Justice."
____________________________________________

When the road gets dark
And you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark
And have a little faith in me.

John Hiatt, "Have A Little Faith in Me"
_____________________________________________

4:37 a.m. Friday

Carol turned over, awakened seemingly for no reason.

She got up and groped her way to the bathroom, not wanting to turn on the light, then returned quietly, trying not to make any noise or awaken Doug as she got back into bed.

Doug was lying on his stomach, his arms folded underneath his pillow, his head facing her. He slept so quietly it was almost eerie. His face was calm, serene, his breathing deep and slow. He was the only man she'd ever slept with who didn't snore.

Carol lay softly on her stomach next to him, placing her head on the pillow so she could watch him sleeping in the dim light.

She smiled to herself, remembering for the second time that night something John Taglieri had once said to her. About how he could hardly breathe sometimes, when his hand brushed against hers. About how he would wake up at night just to watch her sleep.

Those words were unbelievably sweet, she thought at the time, but she couldn't relate. She was fond of Tag, she thought she loved him enough to marry him, but she didn't love him like that. Though it had been painful at the time, she was glad now that he'd been brave enough, and unselfish enough, to make her realize it.

But now Carol finally understood. She knew exactly how Tag felt: How it was to look at someone and feel your heart skip a beat when he smiled at you. How it felt to have your breath stolen away when he kissed you.

She loved to watch Doug sleep, though usually she wasn't disciplined enough to do it for long without moving toward him, kissing him softly and rubbing his back persistently until he woke up long enough to make love to her sleepily in the early morning darkness.

*Oh god. What am I doing? I'm so in love with him.*

Feelings surged through Carol as she watched him: Joy, contentment, pleasure at the sight of him so close, the feel of his warmth here next to her.  Right where he belonged.

Her mind traveled over their evening together. Their tentative reunion, anticipated so fully, realized so wonderfully. Yet also filled with missteps, doubts and struggles, most of her own making.

Carol knew she was wrong to let so many of the old memories of Doug haunt her. Stupid things bothered her, things he couldn't even help. Like the way he took his pants off.

Her insecurities had almost ruined Doug's homecoming tonight. She sighed.

She was determined not to let it happen again, and she was ready, she thought, to let go of the past hurts and betrayals Doug had inflicted on her. To finally forgive him.

Over the last several months they had talked so long and so seriously about so many things: Their childhoods, their work, his therapy sessions and hers, how much they had changed.

But the hard part was, there were some things they had never dared to talk about. Things Carol never wanted to talk about.

Why? Why had he betrayed her - blatantly and repeatedly? Why had she tried to kill herself? Carol couldn't bear to bring up the hateful things he'd done to her and the self-destructive way she'd reacted. It was all just too painful.

And she and Doug were too busy being happy. For a change.

But something was stuck there, in-between them, Carol thought. Something they could ignore at first. Something they could tiptoe around for a while. Until they started getting more serious. And then the thing started to grow.

And it grew and grew, until by now it was so big that Carol didn't know if she could get around it anymore. And she was so afraid of what would happen if she tripped.

She glanced over at Doug again - at his long, dark lashes resting against his cheek. His dimpled chin was relaxed, his lips slightly parted. She reached over and kissed his mouth softly, not wanting to wake him this time, knowing how tired he was.

"G'night, sweetheart," he muttered, mostly asleep, and turned over onto his side.

She looked at his back, surprised, then waited a minute until she was sure he was asleep again.

"Good night," she whispered, turning toward him and snuggling in, gathering the covers around them.

Yes, she was ready, she thought. Ready to trust him. To believe in him. Ready to tell everyone at work about them, like he wanted her to.

It was important to him and she loved him enough - more than enough - to give him that. She could do it, overcome her fears and regrets. If only he would let her take her time.

If only he wouldn't push.

____________________________________________

And when the tears you cry
are all you can believe,
Just give these loving arms a try, baby,
and have a little faith in me.
_____________________________________________

10:47 p.m. Thursday

The house was dark.

Doug pulled up to the curb in front of Carol's house, looking eagerly toward the porch. But when he saw the dark windows and the drawn curtains, he felt a keen sense of disappointment.

The porch light was not even on.

Carol had asked him to come over after his shift, said she'd wait up for him. But it was later than he'd anticipated. He'd gotten held up with a patient as usual, and now it looked like she must have given up on him.

Damn. She'd seemed so eager to see him earlier that day, when she'd arranged for them to have some time alone in an empty exam room. He thought about it for a minute, their furtive kissing and groping before a noise outside the door caused Carol to pull away hurriedly and rearrange her clothing.

Reminiscent of the old days, he thought, when they would meet secretly in the basement for unbelievably passionate sex, every stolen moment precious to them before his beeper went off or her short breaks were over.

Doug was a little worried about Carol. Mark hadn't been completely joking - she had definitely lost weight in his absence. He could tell his arms fit around her more snugly than before, and he could feel her shoulder blades sharply in her back.

Doug sat in his car, hesitating still, not sure whether to let himself in or go back to his apartment. He could catch up with Carol tomorrow. Maybe that was better than disturbing her tonight. Did she really even want him to come over? Doug thought she did, but he wasn't entirely confident, anymore, that he really knew how she felt. She said she loved him, but she still didn't trust him enough to reveal their relationship to anyone.

He sat a while longer, but eventually he couldn't bear the thought of going back to his place alone, so he walked up the steps and pulled out his key. Opened the door quietly and stepped inside.

It was dark and still. Should he go back to the bedroom and try to rouse her?

A noise. Something wasn't right.

"Carol?" He spoke softly, hesitatingly, putting his keys down on the entry table and hanging up his coat. There was no reply. He walked into the house slowly, reaching for the small lamp in the hall. He heard the noise again.

"Carol?" Doug was still fumbling for the light in the dark.

"Doug." A whisper, coming from the other end of the room.

He stopped and turned, startled, and saw her finally, leaning against the kitchen doorway in the dark, illuminated by the green glow of the microwave's digital display.

Suddenly, Doug's throat was dry and his heart was beating fast. He looked toward Carol, unable to see her expression for the darkness and because her hair was loose and falling forward over her face.

Why was she just standing there, silently, in the dark? Was the look on her face sadness or desire? Or was it both?

"Doug." She said it again, her voice husky, her eyes meeting his as he stood, still surprised, and watched her quietly.

She reached up slowly then and began to unfasten the buttons of her shirt.  Doug looked closer and realized it was his shirt she was wearing. One of his light blue, long-sleeved cotton dress shirts. It reached just to her mid-thighs.

Carol was still staring at him, waiting for something, he thought, but he wasn't sure what. She continued to loosen the front of the shirt, maddeningly slowly, so that the white skin of her chest was just visible.

A sharp pang of desire gripped Doug as he watched her, rooted to the spot, enthralled.

Carol looked at him from under her mane of hair and as the lights of a passing El train slashed in briefly through the front window, Doug could see a tantalizing half-smile on her face. She extended her hand. "Doug," she said, for the third time.

He moved toward her slowly, a slightly embarrased chuckle at the back of his throat, and stopped in front of her, taking her outstretched hand in his. She was looking up at him, expectantly.

"Uh..." he laughed again, feeling awkward, off-balance a little. He recovered enough to tease her: "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me, Nurse Hathaway," he said, meeting her gaze.

She smiled widely then, and threw her head back, flipping the hair out of her eyes and stepping close enough so that he could feel the heat of her body.  Close, but not quite touching him. With one hand, she was still fumbling excruciatingly with the last buttons on the shirt. When it was fully open, she stepped back nimbly, exposing herself to Doug's gaze.

A strangled moan escaped him and he swallowed hard at the sight of her round breasts and narrow waist and the dark place between her sleek thighs.

She smiled and raised her eyebrows teasingly, gratified by his response. Then she reached out her hand again and laced his fingers in hers, starting to walk backwards toward the bedroom, pulling him slowly along with her. "Let's see what's back here, Doug," she suggested.

Doug felt shy again, like an eager boy following her.

"Doug?"

"Hmmm?"

"Welcome home."

Welcome home. He hadn't heard those words in years. The warmth of it - her seductive welcome and the way she was including him in her life - threatened to undo him. He'd been saving himself for this moment for several days, resisting with difficulty the temptation to release his sexual tension alone in his motel room. Now, pent-up desire at the sight of her was fueling him like he'd seldom felt before. His patience was wearing thin.

Halfway to the bedroom, Doug realized he couldn't stand the tease any longer. His whole body was aching to feel Carol and to possess her, this beautiful gift that belonged to him.

He stopped in his tracks and looked at her. "C'mere," he said, tugging on her hand. In a heartbeat she was in his arms, her hands on his back, holding him close. Doug slipped his own hands under the shirt she was wearing, feeling the warm, smooth skin of her naked back. Her body was pressed up against his in all its soft roundness. Her skin smelled so nice. Her mouth was yielding under his kisses so sweetly he could hardly believe it.

"Oh god, I missed you, Carol," he murmured, his hands tangling in her hair and sliding the shirt gently off her arms. She pulled up his shirt and ran her hands under it, stroking his back and pulling him toward her again tightly.

His hands were searching her all over, remembering all the familiar curves and angles like a blind man remembers a face. Then he pulled her close, one arm wrapped around her back, the other insinuated between their bodies, stroking gently over her breast. So soft.

"Ummm," she sighed, her hands in his hair, her tongue probing inside his mouth.

He sank down in her arms and reached under her, picking her up against him and carrying her the remaining few steps to the bedroom. His eyes were half-closed, but he could see the glow of candles illiminating the walls there and he glimpsed a bottle of champagne and two glasses on Carol's nightstand. The soft flickers of light cast huge, eerie shadows of the two of them, bodies tangled together, against the walls.

He put Carol down on the bed and she lay back, her hair fanned out like a dark halo against the white bedspread. Her breasts flattened out into perfect circles, nipples standing up tautly, her legs gently parted to accommodate his probing fingers.

"Doug," she said in a muffled voice, entrancing him with her passion and the suggestive way her head was already lolling back, eyes closed and lips parted.

He smiled and introduced a finger gently inside her, rubbing his thumb over her, making her shiver and stretch out every muscle in her body luxuriously.

Doug leaned over her and kissed her hard, two hands moving up to knead each breast softly. Then he stood up again quickly and jerked on his belt, yanking at it and slipping the end swiftly out through the buckle with a practiced jerk of his wrist.

Carol opened her eyes, wanting his mouth back on hers, wanting his hands on her again, and she reached her arms up to him. But his eyes were closed, his head tipped back slightly, as he worked at the buttons on his pants.

Carol felt herself shudder, suddenly, watching Doug. He had a way of removing his clothes when he was hot for sex that had always bothered her. There was something impersonal, something professional-looking about it ... mercenary almost, that secretly gave Carol the creeps. The way he was undressing now, swiftly pulling the shirt over his head, stepping neatly out of his shoes, conjured up mental images for her of Doug coldly preparing to screw a one-night stand - or a whore. Though she doubted that Doug Ross had ever been so hard up that he had to pay for sex.

The gestures, his body language: It reminded Carol of the way Doug used to gulp down a shot of whiskey like a pro, in the old days. The swift flip of his wrist, the way he tossed his head back, the unconscious grimace, the way he would slam the shot glass down on the bar, tossing out a terse, "Hit me again."

Carol shivered again.

Doug hooked his thumbs in his waisband and dropped his pants and his boxer shorts together with one swift motion, revealing a rampant erection that made Carol inhale sharply, bringing pangs to her stomach and anticipatory convulsions between her legs. A flush of heat and tingling washed over her as Doug took hold of her hips and slid her swiftly toward him, until her pelvis was on the edge of the bed.

Carol brought her knees up and rested her feet on the mattress. She could feel his raw need, the urgency with which he pulled her body toward him. He must really have been "abstaining" while he was away, she thought, he was awfully tense. She couldn't remember him ever being so wound-up before.

Doug pulled her thighs open widely and advanced between them, rubbing his warm, strong hands over her knees and her inner thighs and stroking her again. She heard a low, rumbling moan come from deep in his throat as he touched her, his eyes glittering with desire.

He stepped out of his pants, a mischievous smile on his face, and Carol watched him. She thought he was bracing his feet on the floor.

She went cold inside, suddenly. *Oh no. Oh god, Doug, no. Not tonight.*

He was so hot he was going to fuck her just like this, standing up, holding onto her legs while he jutted his hips forward powerfully, pushing himself into her while she lay back on the bed.

They had done it this way only a few times - years earlier - and Carol remembered that it had always put her off, even though Doug had never rushed her or failed to bring her to orgasm.

She'd always been physically satisfied with Doug - that part was easy. But the sheer remoteness of this position - no kissing or touching, his body so far removed while her arms ached to hold him close to her heart - had always left her feeling lonely and used, afterwards. As if she was personally insignificant - just a place for him to put it and get off, then leave her to her bed, alone.

She'd never had the confidence to tell him, back then, that she didn't like it this way. She'd always been so reluctant to disappoint him, to limit his pleasure. She'd always been so desperate for him to want her and need her. And love her.

Tonight, her first impulse was just to let it happen. Enjoy herself and not let her disappointment show.

But suddenly a voice floated through her head - one she hadn't thought of in years: "Should I treat you like garbage, like Doug Ross does? Is that what you want?"

Garbage: Something you used up until it wasn't useful anymore and then you threw it away. Is that what she wanted?

Carol realized then that if she didn't say anything it would make every fear she had about her renewed relationship with Doug come true. All her fretting - about reversing the progress she'd made, about Doug starting to use her like he had before, about reverting to the scared, uncertain person she'd been in the past - would be validated if she just lay back and let him screw her like this.

Swiftly, without thinking, feeling only rebellion inside, Carol pushed herself backwards, using her feet for leverage, and moved across the bed, out of Doug's range. She rolled onto her side, her back to Doug, and covered her face with her arms.

Doug stopped short, baffled and shocked at her sudden movement, her silent rejection of him. What the *hell* was this? He stood stock still for a few moments.

"Carol?" When he found his voice it was an incredulous whisper. She had been so aroused, so welcoming just a moment before. God, he thought he was going to come right there in the hallway as she tugged him toward the bedroom.

He couldn't imagine what had happened.

"Carol?" he said again, louder this time, trying hard to keep the mounting frustration he felt from creeping into his voice. He climbed onto the bed and went over to her, lying next to her but not touching her. "What happened? Why are you turning your back on me? I don't like it."

Carol was silent a moment, gathering her courage, knowing she had hurt him. She stayed facing away from him, afraid to look at him, speaking softly but keeping her voice level.

"I ... I missed you Doug. I just, I ... didn't want to do it like that... y'know, with you so far away. I want ... I want you to hold me tonight."

"What?" Doug's adrenaline was pumping, his mind still hazy with arousal. He didn't have a clue what she was getting at.

He thought a moment longer. *I didn't want to do it like that.* Suddenly he realized with a jolt what she had anticipated was going to happen between them.

Dismay filled him. Was that all she thought of him? Would she *never* trust him with her heart - never even give him the slightest benefit of the doubt? He realized fully that she really didn't know him - didn't believe how much he truly loved her.

"God, Carol - I wasn't ... that's not what I was gonna do. Not at all," he said, his voice hurt and surprised. "I missed you too. I want to be close to you tonight ... I want to hold you and ... make love to you."

Carol closed her eyes, hearing his sincerity, immediately believing him. Maybe she'd misread his body language, jumped to conclusions again like she'd been prone to do lately. She reached up and sought his hand, grateful when his fingers slipped inside hers, squeezing a little. "I'm sorry, Doug ... I just, I was always afraid to tell you, before, that I didn't like that. I thought, the way you were standing there... that you.... I always felt like you were taking advantage of me when we did it like that."

Doug flinched. No, she didn't understand him. Not even close. He had been prepared to go down on her - to put her satisfaction before his  own, despite his neediness, his raw urgency, at that moment. More than anything, he wanted to make her happy. And now she didn't even think of that possibility. She just assumed he was being selfish.

Doug decided he didn't like being misunderstood - especially by the woman who said she loved him.

"God*damn* it, Carol. Will you ever give me just a little bit of credit? I know you a lot better than you think I do. I ... I knew years ago that you didn't like that... I just, y'know, sometimes it was easier for me that way. I had a hard time being ... getting close to you... You know I wanted to, but I... I was scared. I just couldn't, sometimes..." Doug's voice trailed off.

This evening was not going as he had hoped it would.

Carol stared at the wall, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, and sighed. She had such high hopes for this evening, for their joyful reunion, complete with champagne and candlelight. She hated it when they had to dredge up the past - especially in bed.

She sighed again and Doug winced. How had this evening turned around so quickly? He wanted her, needed to make love with her, reconnect after they'd been apart. But Carol seemed like she was a million miles away even though she was lying right next to him.

"Carol," he started out, trying again to salvage the moment before it was too late.

But she cut him off, quickly: "Doug, please. I'm so sick of talking about all this. Can we not discuss it? I can't do this right now."

Doug grimaced and shook his head in disbelief. How typical. She brought up past hurts and old pain, and then said she didn't want to talk about it. She wouldn't let him apologize or explain. She just avoided the discussion.

He felt like he couldn't win with her, sometimes. Doug let go of her fingers and moved away from her swiftly, getting off the bed angrily and picking his boxer shorts up off the floor. He put them on and headed for the door.

"Doug!" Carol rolled over, watching him go, fearful of his reaction.

But Doug was too angry to look back at her. He just slammed his hand against the door jamb and kept on walking.

____________________________________________

And when your back's against the wall
just turn around and you will see
I'll be there to catch your fall
so have a little faith in me.
_____________________________________________

Doug didn't bother picking up his clothes. Angry as he was, he knew he couldn't leave Carol's house.

He'd spent too many lonely nights on the road, wishing he was back with her. Now, he was disturbed and hurt and confused. But his need to be near her was stronger than all that.

He was so crazy in love with Carol, his heart belonged to her so utterly, that he was starting to wonder if there was anything he *wouldn't* do to have her. Even sleeping on the couch was better than spending another night any farther from her than the next room.

Doug sat down on the couch and flipped on the TV. Damn, it was cold. Ever-frugal, Carol had probably already turned the heat down for the night. He would have to talk to her again about chipping in on the mortgage payment, or maybe moving in with her. It was stupid, with him staying here most of the time anyway, to keep his own apartment when he was still paying off his med school loans.

He reached up to the back of the couch for the afghan that Helen Hathaway had crocheted for Carol's birthday. He pulled it over himself, thinking briefly of what Helen would say if she knew who was using her present right now.

Doug tuned in a hockey game, then quickly pressed the "mute" button when he thought he heard a sound behind him, in the hallway. He glanced back hopefully, thinking he would see Carol walking out to him.

But she was not there. So stubborn. He sighed and turned back to the now- silent game, trying to keep his mind on it and turn off the turmoil swimming in his head as he thought about Carol.

He'd hoped that when he got home from California she would start to trust him, be willing to go public with their relationship.

But obviously, even though she said she loved him, she still wasn't comfortable with him. She still worried that he was going to hurt her. She didn't trust him.

Doug thought he'd been patient with Carol. But he was starting to resent the secrecy and the sneaking around. The way she banished him to his apartment when her mother was coming over. The way they had to cover up their affections at work, like earlier today, hiding out in the exam room. Doug hated the whole stupid charade.

Maybe she just didn't take him seriously. And if he didn't offer to make a commitment to her, he thought, maybe she never would.
_____________________________________________

And when your secret heart
cannot speak so easily, c'mere darling,
From a whisper start
to have a little faith in me.
_____________________________________________

In the bedroom, Carol lay on top of the covers, motionless, straining to hear, listening for the sound of Doug's keys or of the door closing. She rolled over and saw his clothes, still lying in a heap on the floor by the bed. Then she heard the television go on and realized that Doug was out in the living room.

Good. She didn't think she could stand it if he left again so soon. She'd been so lonely, waited so long for him to come back. Both of them had been so keyed up, so emotional tonight. It was no wonder they'd had a misunderstanding.

They were alike in that way, she thought. Hot-tempered, passionate and emotional, both more comfortable expressing their feelings physically than in words.

She should go out to him and apologize. She hated knowing that Doug was hurt.

But she lay on the bed, reluctant somehow. That was another similarity, she thought: They were both proud and way too stubborn for their own good.

Carol knew him so well. His flaws as well as his virtues. She loved Doug with all her heart, but sometimes she thought - just a little - about how much easier brand-new relationships were. It would be so uncomplicated to love someone who loved her back from the start. Someone she didn't have such a long and painful history with.

The candles were flickering, the flames growing longer and longer as wax started to drip on her dresser and nightstand. Carol got up and blew out the flames, before they burned out by themselves. She stopped in the midst of extinguishing them, running her fingertip through the condensation on the outside of the champagne bottle she had set out on her nightstand.

How did this evening go so wrong?

She thought again about what had just happened, about what she assumed Doug was going to do. She remembered his hurt words: *That's not what I was gonna do at all, Carol.*

Suddenly, it came to her. Why Doug had pulled her so urgently to the edge of the bed and positioned himself there. He was going to go down on her, make her come first, delay his own pleasure for her sake - to thrill her and make her happy.

And she'd rejected him. Oh god.

She stood over the candles a moment longer, then reached for his shirt - the one she'd been sleeping in lately - and walked out to the living room, quietly.

Carol's heart did a flip when she saw Doug's form on the couch in the darkness, her mother's afghan draped over him, the TV still on in the corner. She thought he was asleep and walked quietly in front of him to pick up the remote and shut off the set.

She almost jumped out of her skin when she saw that his eyes were open and he was looking at her silently.

"Doug... Doug.... I'm so sorry." She stood across the room, hands on her hips, back arched. She felt hesitant to approach him, trying to gauge how angry he was. "I'm really, really sorry. I know I'm not being fair to you."

Doug just lay there, still staring at her silently.

"Doug, come on." Carol walked a little closer and stopped opposite him. "Please talk to me."

Doug saw the anguish on her face and his heart melted instantly. Hurt as he was, the sight of her there, pleading with him, reminded him of how much he was in love with her.

He looked at her, searched her eyes in the dim light. They needed to talk, needed to get all this out in the open. Why she wouldn't trust him, whether she would ever be able to forgive him. Whether they had a future together.

"Carol ... c'mere. I'm sorry too. I'm sorry about everything. I wish I could change things, how bad it was between us, before. I just... I can't go back and do that. I don't know what to do."

Carol walked to him quickly and knelt down in front of the couch, putting a hand over his mouth. "Doug, no, it's fine. You're right - we can't do anything about that. Let's not talk about it ... let's not talk at all. Please."

Doug was still hurt over her assumptions about him and her inability to believe in him. If only they could cut through all the baggage they carried around from the past and come to some sort of understanding. Focus more on the future.

"Carol, I want you to know how I feel...." he started, but she cut him off.

"I do, Doug. It was ... it was my fault, before. Let me make it up to you, please," she whispered, her body so soft and so close to him.

Doug hated to admit it, but the renewed realization that she had nothing on underneath his loosely buttoned shirt and that they were alone together was irresistible. Right at that moment he wanted her so badly he didn't think he could talk coherently for very long, even if she would let him.

He put his hands on her arms and drew her toward him, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers.

"Let me hold you, then. I want to feel you next to me." He whispered the words softly, his voice reverberating through her body, thrilling her just like it always did.

Carol moved toward him, pushing between his legs until her body was against his, her breasts flattened against his stomach and her head resting on his chest. He put his arms around her and she relaxed gratefully into his embrace. He held her tightly for a moment, stroking her sides, loving the softness of her body pressed motionless against his own.

"I love you, Carol. God, I missed you," he murmured, his face in her hair, his fingers reaching up to rub the back of her neck. "I want us to make love."

Carol felt herself go weak, surrendering herself to him, so aroused by the feel of him, his voice, his nearness. She took his hand, bringing it up to her mouth and kissing his knuckles softly, then turned it over and kissed his palm. She opened her lips and took his index finger inside her mouth, sucking on it sensuously and rolling her tongue over it.

He moaned and let his head fall back slightly. He knew what she was offering and he wanted it, badly. But she had assumed he was being selfish before and he didn't want to prove it, now.

"Carol, I ... you don't have to..." he murmured as she looked up at him suggestively, still sucking lustily on his finger.

"I want to," she said softly, reaching for him.

"Oh," he moaned as her hand found him and began stroking him, so incredibly ready for her.

"I was... I wanted to do you first, before," he said, leaning his head down to kiss her hotly. She arched her head back and returned his kiss,  then broke off and started pulling his boxers down, pushing his hips up so she could ease them off him while he sat facing her.

"I know, I .... I figured that out. I'm sorry I was so stupid, Doug," she said.

He wanted to tell her it was all right, that he forgave her, that he loved her and she didn't ever have to apologize to him, but he was overwhelmed suddenly and unable to speak.

She took him, harder than she'd ever felt him, she thought, into her mouth swiftly and began sucking him off, licking and tonguing him expertly, massaging his balls and thighs, biting teasingly, her hair brushing over his legs and stomach.

Doug was absolutely overcome, watching her through half-closed eyes, with the tantalizing look of what she was doing and how it felt. He wanted to prolong it, to keep this moment frozen in his mind, but he knew that he was going to come very quickly.

Carol kept up the pressure, not backing off or teasing him because she knew what he needed and she wanted to please him tonight.

"Oh, oh," Doug was moaning and groaning and he pulled away from her quickly after only a few minutes, grabbing his shorts from where they were lying on the couch next to him and using them to catch the fluid spurting from him.

Carol sat back on her heels, her hands resting on his thighs, and watched him with pleasure, glad she could give him this moment. She wondered, with amusement, why guys always seemed to be able to grab something at the last second like that. Must be an art acquired from years of practice by themselves, she thought, smiling.

Doug looked up, opening his eyes slowly, and saw the amused look on her face. "Hey," he said, weakly. "What are you thinking about?"

"Just thinking how glad I am that you're back," she said.

He balled the shorts up and dropped them to the floor. Then he reached for her silently.

Carol climbed up to sit next to him, his arms gathering her close. "Did you like that?" she asked shyly, snuggling up to him and kissing him.

"Oh, yeah," he said, laughing with his eyes closed, rubbing noses with her. "Now it's your turn."

*Sweetheart.*

Doug kept the last word in his head, not saying it aloud. Carol never used pet names with him. Even in their happiest and most intimate moments, he was always just "Doug."

And he had tossed "honey," "baby" and "sweetheart" at so many women, he was afraid Carol would think he was patronizing her if he called her by those names, though sometimes he wanted to. If only to express his affection for her, even though words couldn't come close to expressing the depth of his feelings for Carol.

She held him quietly, feeling his exhaustion. He'd been driving for days, probably not sleeping well, then he'd worked a long shift and it was late.

He moved slightly under her on the couch, starting to get up.

"Doug, come to bed and get some sleep. You're tired."

He looked at her, silently, then got up and took her hand. She wasn't sure whether he was taking her suggestion about sleeping or not, but she was fine with it, she thought, either way.

______________________________________________

'Cause I've been loving you
for such a long time, baby,
expecting nothing in return
just for you to have a little faith in me
_____________________________________________

Carol stooped to the living room floor and picked up the shirt that had been discarded somehow in the previous few minutes.

"That looks familiar," Doug said with a grin.

"That's because it's yours," she admitted.

He looked at her questioningly as they walked to the back of the house, towards the bedroom.

"I ... I've been sleeping in it. It reminded me of you while you were gone," she explained, a little embarrassed.

Doug put his arm around her. He liked that explanation.

They walked into the bedroom and Carol went over to the bed, pulling off the bedspread and turning down the covers, shivering suddenly with the cold. Doug went into the bathroom and then joined her in bed, crawling in beside her and encircling her with his arms.

She expected him to fall asleep within a few minutes, but instead he began to kiss her neck and caress her gently.

Doug nudged her over onto her stomach and started rubbing her back, stopping to annoint his hands with the massage oil he kept in the drawer next to his side of the bed.

"Doug, you're tired. You don't have to do this right now," she said.

"I want to," he said, echoing her words.

She smiled, grateful, as he kneaded all her back and neck muscles and warmed her skin with his soothing touch, not too hard and not too soft. She had missed it so much.

Then Doug pulled her onto her side, back facing him, and spooned his body up close behind her. One arm slid under her neck, where his hand could command her breasts, and the other encircled her waist and crept downwards to gently caress her.

He kissed her neck and nuzzled her ear. Carol turned her upper body toward him until she could reach his mouth and kissed him enthusiastically. He knew this was one of her favorite ways to make love.

He began stroking and kissing her, teasing her nipples with his fingertips and pinching them lightly.

With his other hand, he concentrated on her lower body, rubbing her stomach and legs and then - when she started moaning and arching herself back into him - he lifted her top leg gently and reached down to find her core, warm and moist, waiting for him.

"Oh god." The words escaped her as his fingertips brushed over her and she turned back to him again, seeking his lips, licking them teasingly until he kissed her sensuously.

He was hard again, but not nearly as hot as before, and he knew he could hold out for a while. He entered her from the side, pushing himself up inside her easy and slow.

"Ummmmm," she whimpered, anticipating that his thrusting and the rhythm of his fingers caressing her would bring her to orgasm quickly.

And he did bring her close to the edge swiftly, but not quite past the point of no return. Just as she felt herself losing control, Doug backed off, ceasing his movement inside her and moving his hand down her leg.

After she had cooled off a bit, Doug started again, stimulating her with his fingers and bringing her tantalizingly close to orgasm, but again stopping just short. She turned to look at him, feeling more than a little frustrated. He knew what she needed - what was he doing?

She found Doug looking at her oddly, his eyes unblinking right above hers, watching her with a curious expression on his face.

"I love you Carol," he said. "I want you to trust me."

"Ummmm..." her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes, wanting him to stop distracting her when she was so close, so close...

"Carol, I want you to trust me."

She shifted her body in reply, bearing down on him, impatient for him to fuck her. She tuned his voice out and let her head fall back against his shoulder as she rocked her hips against his.

"Will you let me love you?" Doug whispered the words in her ear, not willing to let her come just yet.

"Please, please," she whimpered, needing release so badly and starting to fear she would not get it tonight. She recognized the anxious feeling engulfing her. She'd felt it before, with other men, but never with Doug: Embarrassment bordering on cruel disappointment. Her hand moved downward. If he wasn't going to do it, she would finish the job herself.

"Carol." His voice was vaguely disapproving, but when she looked into his eyes she could see a hint of amusement there. *What are you so worried about?* they asked.

"Carol, I *know* you. Trust me," he said.

She looked at him, at the warmth in his face. She heard the caring in his voice. Could she trust him - right here, right now?

Sometimes it seemed Doug knew her body better than she did. He knew what she needed before she realized it. Hell, he had shown her what making love was all about, taught her how to give herself totally over to her passion and leave behind the inhibitions and reservations she'd grown up with. With him she felt free to completely let herself go - knowing he would protect her without question.

Did she trust him? Implicitly. Without a doubt.

"Carol?" his voice was quiet but demanding.

Carol bit her lower lip and nodded. Still, he looked at her. He wanted her to say it.

"I trust you, Doug," she whispered.

"Then *really* trust me," he said. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to leave you, I promise. I love you. I love you, Carol."

Doug was kissing her, over and over, murmuring the words, and she responded, kissing him back: "I know. I know, Doug. I know."

He thrust into her again, all tentative feelings gone. She began to whimper and then to moan immediately, her body on the edge of an orgasm that she knew would be all the more powerful because of the delay.

Doug smiled down at her and redoubled his efforts, fingers caressing her and his mouth kissing her, tongue slipping over hers, pushing relentlessly inside her until she let herself go just as he clasped her tightly to him and came, shuddering and moaning.

Instantly, she felt her body convulse forcefully and she experienced one of the most intense orgasms of her life, wave after wave of pleasure washing over her until she thought they would never stop. She didn't realize until later that the ragged, hoarse sound she heard was herself, crying out unconsciously.

It seemed like a long time before the pleasurable sensations finally began to recede and Carol opened her eyes, breathing hard, and saw Doug smiling down at her. "Thank you," she murmured, kissing him slowly for a while. She wanted to keep him close, to feel his body intertwined with hers just a little bit longer.

"I missed you," Carol said, knowing she was being redundant as she nestled her head into the crook of his neck.

His arms fit around her snugly. She was so warm. "You feel great. I missed it, you know, being here with you. I missed you." He looked down at her, grinning, and saw that she was smiling again, understanding exactly what he meant.

"Yeah, I know," she said.

Doug took a deep breath and kissed the top of her head, loving the smell of her hair, so familiar and comforting, tickling his nose. "I love you."

"I love you too, Doug."

He smiled. It was still special, hearing that, even if she wouldn't offer up the words first. He couldn't blame her. She'd given him her heart and everything else she had, once, and he'd thrown it away, broken it. Broken her.

Doug closed his eyes and felt himself drifting off to sleep. He was so happy to be back here, with Carol.

To be home.
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You know time, time is our friend
Because for us there is no end.
All you gotta do is have a little faith in me.

I will hold you up, I will hold you up
Your love gives me strength enough
All you gotta do is just have a little faith in me.
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THE END