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‘I wish I could hate you.’
The words slipped out, half taking him by surprise. She did that to him, making him say things, do things, without considering them at all. Let alone the consequences. Mary made a vague humming noise against his skin and settled against him like he was some sort of pillow. He wanted to mind that, the way she just seemed to mould him around her, but he didn’t. It hadn’t been a question, but he answered anyway.
‘You use me.’
That made her stir, if only to press her hand on his chest and then follow lines of muscles with her fingertip. The sensation never stopped making him shiver.
‘I do,’ she answered, like there was nothing wrong with it, like it was simply the truth and nothing more. It probably was. He was letting her after all.
‘After this-’ She made a noise that was almost a snort, the exhaled air rushing over his skin like cold water. ‘You’ll just go back to him and to your job-’
He wasn’t sure where that statement was going and it was far too bitter, so he breathed in and changed tack. ‘-I don’t even know what you do.’
She laughed and the sound eased something, took away a little of the bitterness and replaced it with gratefulness. Even if this was only a temporary thing, he’d be lying if he tried to suggest he didn’t enjoy it. If he said he wasn’t coming back for more just as much as she was. She reached for her phone, a clumsy fumble without even trying to see what she was doing. He was relatively certain she was checking her texts and how much time had passed since they’d fallen into bed but he didn’t need to be sure, not with her still draped half over him.
‘I’m a psychologist,’ she answered after a while, her amusement warming and colouring the words until they seemed like honey to him. ‘I opened a practice with my husband a few years back. What do you do, Matt?’
Her tone turned teasing, like she didn’t know already, like she wasn’t the one who’d harassed him into going back to work even if she couldn’t make him extend an olive branch to Foggy just yet. He had no doubt that in time she would. He was the rock and she the water and he was being worn down ever so slowly.
‘I’m a lawyer, madam,’ he murmured and stole a kiss from her lips.
‘You should meet him, really,’ she said when he pulled away and Matt wondered what he’d done to deserve this now.
‘What, so he can psychoanalyse me and judge me for fucking his wife?’
She slapped him, flinging one hand lazily against his shoulder and dragging herself up on the bed.
‘My husband tends to judge people on their merits, not who they go to bed with.’
She leaned away from him, and he listened to her fingers running over the floorboards. Probably looking for her bra; he’d help her, if he could be bothered to remember what he’d done with the thing after he’d taken it off. He was getting good at removing her clothes, perhaps because he was getting so much practice. Not even the corset could faze him any more and there was something nice about the accidental touches and the feeling of the laces running through his fingers. Even this was nice, with how her voice never went prickly and how his own accusations somehow never had any heart. He would like to meet Tom, when he thought about it.
Tom did seem interesting, even though he spent his time in meetings from dawn till dusk and often later. Matt was getting texts almost every day, asking whether he was home, or in some cases, a coy invitation to dinner because she wasn’t about to waste her reservation. Occasionally it was just a sad emoji and nothing much more. And she hadn’t exactly said what Tom was doing that was keeping him so late, which only made the whole thing more fun and cloaked in mystery. Matt had entertained the notion that he might meet the man on the rooftops, but that was a little too ridiculous even for his tastes.
‘What do you specialise in?’ he asked, unable to stop himself from trying to lift at least a corner of the veil.
Mary turned abruptly serious and made a face at him he couldn’t quite catch. It sounded as if she was scrunching her nose and frowning but there was no way to be sure. She stopped in the middle of getting her bra on, letting her hands flop down on the covers, absently stroking the silk. She hadn’t said anything about the luxury, but he could tell she enjoyed it. The feeling of it against her skin and the wealth of it.
He sat up himself, feeling his muscles stretch with the movement, but for once there was no bone-deep ache, it was nice to feel like that. No injuries, no pain, just easy looseness from all the exertion. She didn’t seem willing to speak just yet, so he grasped for her bra between the folds of the sheet and put it on for her, carefully guiding her arms through the straps. It made the strange expression melt away into something softer, half a smile on her face.
‘We primarily do child abuse cases,’ she said and the smile was eclipsed by something else, making shivers ripple over Matt’s skin as the Devil hissed.
She was watching him to gauge his reaction, but there was little to actually react to. It certainly seemed like a Mary thing to do, to pour her time and energy into making children’s lives better, for all that he thought her selfish for being unfaithful. It was a good thing too, positively Christian from someone so utterly not. He wasn’t keeping his smile in either and that seemed to soothe her insecurity a little. He reached for her face and she was already leaning in, already used to his need to find his way to her lips and perfectly willing to wait for him to come to her. That was nice. That was really nice. The way she just let him do things, instead of jumping in and doing them for him. That made a lot more sense now, though.
The world had gone soft around the edges when they parted and for a moment he could pretend he could see her eyes sparkle.
‘Why does saying that make you uncomfortable?’
She laughed and made her way to the edge of the bed, looking around for the rest of her clothes.
‘You’d be surprised how fast a conversation falls flat when people bring it up, darling. What others are willing to do to children is not the sort of thing people want to talk about.’
He scrambled after her and caught her waist to keep her from leaving, laying his cheek against her bare shoulder and breathing in.
‘It’s good that you do it, it suits you.’
She stiffened and he thought he might have mis-stepped somehow but she twisted around to kiss him, so hard he could almost feel the gratitude. Her hand was cold against his cheek, a sharp contrast with the soft warmth of her lips.
‘Not a lot of people say that.’ The thought seemed to drag her down and the palpable sadness made something twist in his stomach, forcing him to move even closer. He could feel her breathe deeply and if he wanted to kid himself he’d say he could tell she was pushing the depressing thoughts away. ‘ I really have to go and you have a meeting about that case in three hours.’
He refused to let go, wanted to touch her skin for ages more. But she laughed and pushed him away, like everything about him had given the sentiment away. It barely surprised him any more, with how easy it was to just be himself around her, Daredevil included.
‘You need to prepare, you silly sod, and perhaps get dressed.’
Her hands skimmed his shoulder, working their way down his chest and pressing slightly at his abs, stopping right at the moment he started holding his breath. She was definitely smirking at him, he didn’t need to see to know that.
‘Though I suppose any client of yours would be happy to see this.’
‘People who tease are not allowed in my bed! And your dress is on the couch.’
She hummed something non-committal back and found her clothes with relative ease. Her bag was lying under the table because he’d relieved her of most of her clothes there and the couch had become a temporary holding space for most of his clothes. He couldn’t see the mess, but he could hear her chuckle over it as she went through the space, slowly gaining layers and starting to look presentable again, or so he assumed. He almost wanted to ask Foggy how she looked, just to see if his cobbled-together fantasy was accurate. She mostly wore dresses, but every single thing she owned seemed to radiate luxury and her hair was always tied up in some sort of bun because she kept insisting it was horrible when it wasn’t. But he didn’t know, not really.
‘Can you explain to me again why you don’t have any mirrors? And if you’re so desperate for some more time, perhaps come to dinner with us tonight?’
The realisation that she was about to walk out the door caught up with him, cutting through his sluggish thoughts and the heavenly relaxation still buzzing in his limbs. So he scrambled off the bed and did his best not to feel self-conscious about his nakedness. It was almost working.
‘You just won’t drop it, will you?’
‘Never. Tom would love you, I just know it. And he needs a break from all the misery, quite frankly.’
The statement suffused him with warmth, for reasons he didn’t want to examine at all.
‘You’re saying your husband would love me because I’m fucking you?’
She froze in the middle of whatever she was doing, and something clinked on the counter top as she heaved a sigh.
‘Oh for- god’s sake, Matt, will you stop rubbing my nose in it. You are a very interesting young man, despite the fact that you don’t seem to think so yourself and I’m absolutely sure Tom would honestly love to pick your brain for an evening. The fact that we’re shagging would only be an endorsement in his mind.’
Her voice had changed through the rush of words, going from warm to a little rough with emotion so he closed the distance and grasped her hand to press a kiss to it.
‘Sorry, feel free to use me to make him feel better.’
He felt her face shift, felt the corner of her mouth tilting into a smile.
‘You’re forgiven and I’d only be using the both of you to make me feel better.’