At first, it seemed that though he'd finished, Amber was already up for round two. The rolling clench of Amber's muscles excited him, even though he'd already come, making it feel like his orgasm would last even longer. Exhaustion and elation warred for control, and Foreman rocked his hips to meet hers a few more times, loving the way she clung to him with all her strength. If she'd kept it up, he would have pulled out, touched her again, brought her off a second time, but before he could offer, Amber's movements slowly stilled, until they were lying tangled in each other's arms, still breathing heavily and damp with sweat and sex. Foreman didn't want to move. Didn't want to think. Didn't want to worry about work, the world, what might come next. If he could spend the day in bed with Amber, moving no farther than to slip out and draw her into his arms, he would.
Amber beamed at him, brilliant, and Foreman smiled back tenderly, from where his face was half-crushed into the pillow beside her. He answered her kiss instinctively, feeling it as an affirmation of how good they'd made each other feel.
His eyes widened when she spoke, his heart skipping a beat, and then tightening in his chest, releasing a flood of adrenaline. I love you. No sooner than he'd become utterly content than she'd caught him again, flatfooted, dropped an ambush on him without warning. Without even pausing for a breath, Foreman kissed her again, strong and deep. He had no idea what to say, but the kiss came easily, naturally, all his feelings channelled into the physical contact. It wasn't quite panic he was feeling--although, God knew, he might just be too worn out to panic, lost in a haze of endorphins.
"Amber..." He raised his hand to her cheek, cupping her face, not able to get enough of looking at her. Studying her in this moment. The last time he'd said I love you, to Wendy, he hadn't felt it; it'd been instinct, saving himself from another fight, another accusation that he was too distant. A week ago, he'd convinced himself that he didn't love Amber. Not yet. Not without more guarantees for the number of risks he was taking.
But then, Amber had taken the same risk. First. Even after their fight. Even though, as she'd told him, she'd never been with someone long-term before...maybe never even loved someone before. Foreman's heart started pounding even harder, because he hadn't even thought this was on the horizon; he hadn't even met her family yet, although that invitation still hung between them too. She was giving him so much.
All he wanted was to kiss her. Not to run. As close as they were, wrapped together in a tangle of limbs, he only wanted to be closer. Not one part of him felt like Amber was trying to coerce something from him he wasn't ready to say, and that, more than anything, sent a rush of happiness through him.
He'd told her things he hadn't told anyone since Claire. She knew about his mom, his family, how he felt about his career, about House; and when they fought, she fought to be with him as much as because there were real issues between them. I know what I feel, he'd told himself. I know what it's like to be in love.
Only three weeks. Turbulent, emotionally all over the damn map, but so good. A risk... Amber was late to work for him, because of him. She'd trusted him this morning like never before. Foreman pushed closer to her, as if they could meld together if he tried hard enough. The way his face hurt--Jesus, he hadn't stopped smiling for a moment. He bent close, wanting his words to be for her alone. "I love you too."
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Amber beamed at him, brilliant, and Foreman smiled back tenderly, from where his face was half-crushed into the pillow beside her. He answered her kiss instinctively, feeling it as an affirmation of how good they'd made each other feel.
His eyes widened when she spoke, his heart skipping a beat, and then tightening in his chest, releasing a flood of adrenaline. I love you. No sooner than he'd become utterly content than she'd caught him again, flatfooted, dropped an ambush on him without warning. Without even pausing for a breath, Foreman kissed her again, strong and deep. He had no idea what to say, but the kiss came easily, naturally, all his feelings channelled into the physical contact. It wasn't quite panic he was feeling--although, God knew, he might just be too worn out to panic, lost in a haze of endorphins.
"Amber..." He raised his hand to her cheek, cupping her face, not able to get enough of looking at her. Studying her in this moment. The last time he'd said I love you, to Wendy, he hadn't felt it; it'd been instinct, saving himself from another fight, another accusation that he was too distant. A week ago, he'd convinced himself that he didn't love Amber. Not yet. Not without more guarantees for the number of risks he was taking.
But then, Amber had taken the same risk. First. Even after their fight. Even though, as she'd told him, she'd never been with someone long-term before...maybe never even loved someone before. Foreman's heart started pounding even harder, because he hadn't even thought this was on the horizon; he hadn't even met her family yet, although that invitation still hung between them too. She was giving him so much.
All he wanted was to kiss her. Not to run. As close as they were, wrapped together in a tangle of limbs, he only wanted to be closer. Not one part of him felt like Amber was trying to coerce something from him he wasn't ready to say, and that, more than anything, sent a rush of happiness through him.
He'd told her things he hadn't told anyone since Claire. She knew about his mom, his family, how he felt about his career, about House; and when they fought, she fought to be with him as much as because there were real issues between them. I know what I feel, he'd told himself. I know what it's like to be in love.
Only three weeks. Turbulent, emotionally all over the damn map, but so good. A risk... Amber was late to work for him, because of him. She'd trusted him this morning like never before. Foreman pushed closer to her, as if they could meld together if he tried hard enough. The way his face hurt--Jesus, he hadn't stopped smiling for a moment. He bent close, wanting his words to be for her alone. "I love you too."