Felicity Smoak was driven to the Ritz Carlton in Laguna Niguel on a Thursday night after a long day of meetings at Queen, Inc. and a flight from Star City on WestJet. The ride in the town car from Orange County Airport had been long enough to allow her to text Oliver to let him know she had arrived safely. Leaving him that morning had been harder than usual, since she wasn't just going to work, but would be heading out of town straight after a long day for a day-long conference on Corporate Leadership in Applied Technology.
F: I miss you already.
O: Me too. It's just until Saturday.
F: I wish you didn't have to catch bad guys.
O: Me neither. Our jobs suck right?
F: Right.
O: I 3 you, rust muffin.
Felicity giggled. She could almost hear him cursing his mistake. It also amused her that he made the heart. Completely primitive was her boyfriend, but she knew doing that made him feel technologically competent.
O: Fuck autocorrect. Lust. I meant.
F: Of course. I love you too, Oliver. Good night xo.
O: xoxoxo
Moments later, Felicity was heading into the hotel. The brisk evening air slapped her awake enough to check in. The Front Desk Clerk, an attractive redhead, greeted her warmly. She was joined by a young man who looked like he belonged on the cover of a college catalog. He rattled off a spiel about Felicity's suite, listing all of the amenities. All she wanted was to find a soft bed and face plant into it. In no time at all, a very attractive bellman was wheeling her bags to the elevator, escorted her to her door and she was doing just that.
-O-
Friday morning.
Felicity awoke to the sound of a rapping at the door. She pried her eyes open and found herself staring at a white pillow. Her glasses were in her outstretched hand, resting on the expensive sheets of her bed. She swiveled her head around and realized that she was in a very posh hotel suite. The lights remained on from the previous night and she was still wearing her work clothes from the day before.
There was another knock. Felicity rolled off the bed, her blonde hair twisted into a tumbleweed around her head and her dress a mess of wrinkles. She slipped her spectacles on as she moved toward the noise. Pulling the door open violently, she found a uniformed waiter on the other side.
"B…but I didn't order anything." Felicity managed to speak, but she sounded groggy. She stepped back as the young man smiled nervously and pushed a cart inside.
"I believe there is a card, Miss."
The waiter nodded and disappeared out the door, closing it behind him.
Felicity was left alone with the shiny cart and a cream-colored envelope leaning against a bud vase with a single red rose. She tore into the paper to reveal a message.
Wake up, Beautiful. Sorry I couldn't make you breakfast. Miss you. Love, O.
Obviously Oliver had dictated the message over the phone and that was as mushy as he was capable of being to a hotel worker. It still made her blush. Then, turning her sights to the cart, she noticed the personal coffee pot and beautiful china. They filled her with unspeakable joy. A basket of croissants tantalized her. There was also a covered dish, which she raised to reveal an omelet and crisp bacon. Felicity replaced the cover and wheeled the cart to the French doors leading out to the balcony, a spring in her step.
Felicity headed back to the bedside table to grab her cell. A business card beside it caught her eye. It read: Your Personal Valet can be reached by dialing 003. This was one of those fancy amenities she knew rich people expected. She made a mental note to mention it to her mother the next time she was cornered on the phone about something awkward, like marriage or grandchildren. Hearing about fancy adventures always enthralled Donna Smoak and this would provide an excellent distraction.
She didn't even change clothes before sitting down on her balcony and digging into her hot breakfast. The hotel was situated on a high bluff. Looking out across a lush lawn toward the sparkling water, the sight was breathtaking. She thought she spotted Catalina Island in the distance. Below, early morning surfers dotted the incoming waves with movement and color.
Turning her attention to her food, Felicity found her croissant to be a perfect mix of air, pastry and butter. The eggs were crisp and fluffy. A sip of the coffee made her eyes roll back in her head. As she moaned, her phone buzzed.
O: My Love. Sleep okay?
Felicity smiled broadly and unlocked the phone so she could respond.
F: Yes! Thank you for breakfast. It is amazing. Why texting, not calling?
O: In line at Steam for latte. Thought I might want to say something dirty. Walls have ears.
Felicity grinned. Her short painted finger nails (silver) danced across the touchscreen keyboard.
F: Dave and Jimmy would enjoy.
O: Tell me about it. Jimmy's totally checking out my ass.
F: He can look, but no touch. Mine.
O: Yes ma'am.
F: I wish you were here. This place is so gorgeous.
O: Nice?
F: Yup. I even have a personal valet.
O: What's he like?
F: I haven't seen him yet. But everybody here could be a model, so he probably looks like a Hemsworth.
There was a pause. Felicity looked down and saw that Oliver was writing what looked like a long response. Invoking a Hemsworth usually managed to get a rise out of him. She was surprised when the final message simply read:
O: Great.
F: What was it?
O: ?
F: The dirty thing u didn't want to say out loud? :-P
O: I missed seeing u this morning.
F: TY. That's not dirty tho.
O: Naked. I missed seeing u naked.
F: Oh. Okay. Is that it?
O: I probably shouldn't say anything else.
F: U were off to a good start.
O: Bad to get hard while waiting for coffee.
F: You're no fun. I might have to call valet guy now.
O: How about after patrol 2nite I call you?
F: Naughty talk in Arrow voice?
O: Yes.
F: My hero.
O: U are a great CEO. Enjoy yourself today.
F: I will try!
O: There is no try.
F: Star Wars quote! OMG!
O: I 3 you, list muffin. Xo
O: Fuck.
F: I love you too! :* Xoxo
After breakfast, Felicity made her way to the en suite bathroom, which was basically a marble palace. A glorious walk-in shower and huge soaking tub gleamed under a chic mini-chandelier, which Felicity admired for some time before stepping under the cleansing spray. The combination of beautiful aesthetic and hot water worked together to bolster her energy for the day ahead. Before heading out for a marathon of small group meetings and panel discussions, Felicity donned a red and white sheath dress that made her feel powerful. It worked to compensate for her nerves about meeting so many new people and fitting in with the rest of the attendees.
-O-
By 4PM, the program of talks concluded and there was nothing else formal scheduled until that evening. It had been a long day filled with occasional stressful moments. A number of the other CEOs had appeared slow to respect Felicity, and challenged her openly, but she endeavored to contribute on a few important technical points. The background she had working with Team Arrow and helping Ray develop the ATOM suit had given her substantial practical experience in applied science, likely more than any of the polo shirt-clad, bean-counters staring her down. She spoke directly and with authority on the topic, marginally winning over a few of her new peers.
One happened to be Leonard Haskins. At 70, Haskins was not only the oldest attendee, but he was also the one Felicity held in the highest esteem. His smart glass company was well-respected, but they were also innovators, introducing a new division that incorporated digital printing into their glass-making processes. Felicity knew that came directly from Haskins, who had been a trailblazer his whole life. Consequently, when the silver-haired man with the rumbling voice supported several of Felicity's excited outbursts, her confidence soared. His acknowledgment of her ability also seemed to soften some of the others' opinion of her.
Throughout the meetings, Felicity had observed that many of the attendees were well-acquainted with each other. There was a sort of CEO club and she was not yet considered a member. Since they were mostly men twenty or thirty years her senior, she was not surprised they did not readily welcome her into their established cliques. She would have a long way to go before being accepted, but Felicity, enjoying a challenge, made an inward promise that she would not give up. She also hoped to find a time to introduce herself to Haskins. When small groups peeled off for offsite social outings, he was suddenly gone, so she headed upstairs to change clothes.
After listening to voicemails and checking in with her assistant, Felicity emerged from her room dressed for the sun, tote bag in hand. She refused to cower in her room feeling unpopular. Arriving at the resplendent pool area, she was relieved she had thought to pack her yellow bikini and sarong, which seemed appropriate and fashionable compared with other women she noticed.
It was an idyllic Southern California day. As the blue water rippled in the pool and nearby palm fronds waved in the breeze, Felicity decided this had been a good decision and the activity, or non-activity as it were, would no doubt help her adjust her anxious mood.
Perhaps she thought this too soon.
The last lounge chair available poolside happened to be situated next to a group of well-kept women who took immediate notice of her arrival and offered obligatory smiles. Settling in, Felicity pulled out her sunscreen and was forced to listen to their conversation as she attended to her sensitive skin.
"Larry's playing golf. You know how he is. I guess I'll see him at the cocktail thing tonight," one perfectly-coiffed lady huffed.
"Mine's off drinking. Somewhere," another volunteered as she fanned herself and flashed a set of perfect veneers.
"Mine is upstairs working," a brunette with sharp cheekbones added, emphasizing the last word with air quotes. "He's really sleeping, but he'd never admit he does that. He thinks it makes him look weak. CEO's don't take naps, he says."
At this, Felicity snorted and drew the ladies' attention. Sensing their eyes on her, she ducked her head and reclined on her lounge chair.
"Your husband doesn't nap, dear?" the brunette asked with an icy tone.
"Oh, I don't have a husband. But I'm a CEO and I nap all the time. Practically narcoleptic."
"Of course you are, dear," Perfectly-coiffed lady smirked dismissively.
"Everybody has a tech start up, don't they? Would we have heard of your little company?" Larry's wife asked with more than a hint of sarcasm.
Felicity knew the easiest thing in the world would be to brag that her company was Queen, Inc. or that she had been featured in the Wall Street Journal two months earlier, but she chose not to play.
"Probably not," she murmured.
"Katherine, how was Cannes this year?"
Felicity grimaced uncomfortably and turned to rest on her stomach. She would be keeping her mouth shut moving forward.
Unexpectedly, a perfect margarita was placed on the table beside her.
"Pardon me for interrupting."
Felicity recognized Oliver's voice right away, but it was tinged with formality. She looked up to search for him, but the sun was in her eyes and all she could see was his broad frame outlined in light.
The women fell silent, taking in the sight of him. Oliver dressed impeccably in a bespoke charcoal 3-piece suit rendered most admirers mute. Being a Queen, he never bought off the rack, but in truth, his physique was too muscular to wear a regular jacket and slacks without tailoring. A blue tie contrasted his crisp white shirt and complemented his eyes while finishing the look. Yes, Oliver Queen was a sight to behold.
"Jonas Dearden. Ms. Smoak's butler and private secretary." Oliver gave the ladies a polite nod and then directed his attention to the blonde currently staring at him with parted pink lips and confusion in her eyes, which were shaded by her hand.
"Ms. Smoak, your call to Moscow has been postponed." Oliver's face appeared perfectly detached. Felicity was reminded of all the years he spent pretending to be other people. Now he had apparently dusted off that particular talent in order to rescue her from this pit of well-manicured vipers.
He continued, "Любой человек, который не говорит с вами дурак." God, his Russian accent did things to her. It was a probably better that she didn't understand that he'd said, "Any man who doesn't speak to you is a fool," because she might have vaulted herself toward him and spoiled the show. Instead, Felicity shifted her legs and blinked a little more than usual.
"Ah, my call. To Moscow." She tried to sound cool as she nodded. "Which is in Russia."
"You now have time before the cocktail reception. Shall I draw your bath?" Oliver's face briefly betrayed his stoic demeanor as his eyes swept down to admire her bikini-clad curves and soft skin.
His words hung in the air for a moment like a wondrous balloon. Felicity bit her lip and tried to strengthen her wits. She recalled he had teased her about playing the role of her butler in the past, but nothing had come of it. Until now, perhaps?
"That sounds fine…Jonas. Before you go," Felicity turned to lay her stomach, then waved her bottle of sunscreen at him and motioned to her back. She might as well have fun with it. Felicity unhooked her bikini top and let the sides fall flat on the chaise beneath her.
"Yes, Ms. Smoak." Oliver quirked an eyebrow, as if to say "is this professional?" but he didn't hesitate accepting the bottle. He quickly sat down on the edge of the chaise and proceeded to empty some lotion into his sizeable palm. Slowly, he massaged the lotion onto her back in circles, pressing fingers into her flesh in ways he knew affected her. The nearly imperceptible sigh she emitted signaled he was doing a good job. When he had completed the effort, he closed the lotion bottle and placed it in her open tote bag.
"I suspect you haven't eaten, Ms. Smoak. May I arrange a bit of champagne and a cheese plate for you?"
"Yes, fine." Felicity smiled. "I'll be up in twenty minutes."
"Of course." Oliver took a step away and pulled out his phone. "Ladies." He offered the hint of a smile toward the women, making a point to achieve eye contact with each one before turning to exit pool area, raising the phone to his ear as he walked away. The view was still impressive from behind.
As soon as Oliver was out of earshot, there was a collective groan amongst the group, not missed by Felicity.
"That man is really a butler?" This came from the brunette.
"Gorgeous," remarked another in a breathy tone. "I think we need a butler."
"Helen, Larry would never let you hire a butler that looked like that. Remember that au pair he wanted that looked like Angelina Jolie?"
Felicity stifled a grin until her face hurt.
-O-
At the appointed time, the CEO of Queen, Inc. returned her room. There was another silver cart in the space now, displaying a champagne bottle chilling in an ice bucket as well as a few covered dishes.
Felicity didn't see Oliver until she dropped her tote and moved toward the sound of running water in the bathroom. There, beside the large tub, he crouched over the tub testing the warmth of the bubble-filled water with his fingers. Spotting her in the doorway, he stopped what he was doing and dried his hand with a ready hand towel. He straightened up and tugged at his vest to smooth any creases.
Felicity eyed him curiously. Even if Oliver chose to end the farce at this moment, she had enjoyed it while it lasted. Now he stood in front her, his white shirt sleeves rolled up, leaving his impossibly masculine forearms exposed. Her eyes fixated on them briefly. Moments later, Oliver cleared his throat and nodded, breaking her stare.
"Your bath is ready, Ms. Smoak."
Felicity chewed on her bottom lip before moving closer to the tub. Simultaneously, Oliver made his way back to the door. She never took her eyes away from his as she kicked off her sandals and began to loosen her sarong. There was an unspoken challenge in the room with them.
Oliver closed his eyes and turned to face away, like a respectful manservant. He looked down when the colorful dress landed on the floor beside him. Soon after, a yellow bikini top whizzed past his head. Oliver pressed his lips together tightly, suppressing his smile and his need. Then, her matching bottoms landed on his shoulder. Gathering all of his self-control, he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Felicity was not aware that Oliver paced the length of the bedroom while banging his forehead into his palm.
Back in the bathroom, the former IT girl giggled and climbed into the tub and let the sudsy water envelop her. She let out a stuttered sigh and relaxed as the warmth affected her muscles while the aroma of the bath soap filled her nose. The sensation of water moving across her thighs and massaging the sensitive skin between her legs felt good. Hot good. I need my man to come in here and make me scream now good. She used her hands to spread the soap all over. Best bath ever.
Then there was a soft tap at the door.
"Yes, Ol…Jonas?" Felicity moaned. The door opened and the butler entered holding a full champagne flute. His eyes lingered on her as he stood in the doorway. Felicity looked so beautiful surrounded by bubbles, her hair gathered above her head in a messy knot, golden tendrils framing her face. A delicious knee peeked above the waterline, teasing him. The expression on her face also communicated…arousal. Steadying himself, Oliver moved across the room to hand the glass to her. But her arm flailed coming out of the bath water and accidentally splashed his shirt and vest.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Her eyes went wide and reflected genuine remorse. This was his Felicity. Adorable, sexy klutz.
"It's fine." He remained placid and offered the glass to her once more. She accepted it with a wide smile.
One sip elicited a spontaneous moan. Felicity realized what she had done and looked to him for a reaction, but Oliver held on.
"This is wonderful." Felicity smiled dreamily. "You know, I've never had a butler before, but I could really get used to it."
Felicity placed her glass on the ledge of the tub and stretched, threatening to raise her nipples above the waterline. She noted a tiny twitch in Oliver's facial expression and his eyes were darker as they roamed over her. But once again he reigned in his passion and it appeared that he might be ready to leave the room. Felicity had to think fast.
"But I do think this could be a little hotter." She tipped her head and smirked. "The water. It's cooling off. Kills the bubbles."
Oliver's head dipped as he approached the tub again. He pressed his lips together and concentrated intently. The faucet was situated at opposite end from where Felicity was sexily situated. This gave her the opportunity to watch him as he tested the temperature and added hot water to the bath. She suspected he was avoiding eye contact, so she grabbed a handful of suds and placed them on her knee, which she assumed could be seen in his peripheral vision.
"Better now, Ms. Smoak?" he managed to say with a heavy breath.
"Mmm hmm," her voice lilted, enjoying the warmth that made its way around her body.
Oliver stood to move away and made the mistake of looking at Felicity. She held a handful of soap bubbles and blew them in his direction with a giggle. She hoped this would be the moment her boyfriend peeled off his clothes so he could slide into the tub and slide into her. She had been rendered more than ready by the sensuous feel of the water and her fantasies cried out to be indulged.
Unfortunately, Oliver retreated to the doorway again. With his back to her, he announced, "Your cocktail dress has been pressed. Everything you need for tonight's event is on the bed." He closed the doors behind him leaving Felicity to wonder when the charade was going to end.
-O-
Felicity emerged from the bathroom in a fluffy white robe, feeling as close to boneless as a human could get. Oliver's last words about everything she needed being on the bed kick-started her imagination and she hoped she'd find him there, naked and ready. But he wasn't even in the room. This left her feeling disappointed and sexually frustrated, but mostly confused.
She looked at the bed. He'd laid out her dress, matching underwear, her jewelry and little clutch bag she brought to hold essentials. Her phone was there too. She picked it up and discovered a message waiting from him.
O: Hi. I hope you are having a great day. I miss you, lushmuffin. xo
Felicity looked at his words quizzically. She tapped out a response.
F: I miss you too, OLIVER. Just had a lovely bath. Alone. Touched myself. A lot. Xoxo
Felicity waited a few moments, but when there was no message back she has no choice but to dress. The mixer would begin downstairs soon and she knew the importance of making a positive impression on her new peers. She concentrated on putting on her makeup and arranging her hair rather than wondering what her butler was doing.
-O-
She loved her dress. It was made of black satin that shimmered in the moonlight. It was sleeveless, with a hem a couple of inches above the knee, and the offset V created by its shawl collar showed off just enough skin. Her hair was down, creating a softer look against the strong neckline. For accessories, silver pumps complemented her clutch. She left her glasses upstairs and opted for contacts.
The evening was slightly warm, but she welcomed the feel of the heat emanating from the fire pits as she strolled across the patio. She admired the last fading light on the water as she descended the stairs to join the other conference attendees.
It was night. Torches and candlelit high-top tables dressed for an elegant cocktail event dotted the lawn. Flowers, pale yellow and salmon-colored roses, decorated the gauze-covered table tops around which huddled groups of ladies and gentlemen in cocktail dress. The sound of waves below the bluff competed with chatter and quiet pop instrumentals emanating from hidden speakers.
Felicity entered the scene feeling good. She looked nice. The bath and champagne had relaxed her more than she expected. And even though Oliver had disappeared, she appreciated his romantic overtures and she felt loved. Whatever happened next with these strangers didn't matter. Still, she set three goals set in her mind. First, she would introduce herself to at least 10 other people. That would be a challenge because the thought of mingling with strangers made her nervous. Her second goal was related – one of those people would be Leonard Haskins. Her third goal was to figure out where Oliver had gone, but she was currently focused on accomplishing her first two missions.
Heading to the open bar proved to be a good first step. Several of her colleagues were queued up and this gave Felicity an opportunity to greet them. She shook their hands and asked if they had enjoyed their afternoon activities. Giving them a chance to talk about themselves was apparently the right move because the inquiry, along with the liquor, broke the ice. There was even a conversation about another conference coming up and the men asked if she was attending. The young executive had not heard of the gathering before, but assured them she was attempting to adjust her calendar. She made a mental note to have her assistant find out more about it on Monday.
At one point, Felicity thought she spied Oliver lurking just beyond where the torchlight was faded. But before she could focus on the figure, he was gone. Then the group she was milling with gravitated to another klatch of mingling people and she moved with them, finding her place beside the powerful people, her new peers. She high-fived herself internally when she hit her tenth introduction.
When the group started discussing vacations in the South of France, Felicity found her attention flagging and she swiveled her head in search of something more interesting. Once again, she thought she spied her boyfriend standing in the shadows beyond the patio, but then she caught sight of her next goal and excused herself from the group with a warm smile.
As Felicity made her way to a table where Leonard Haskins was leaning and speaking animatedly with a colleague, she saw the older man notice her approach. He nodded to his companion and stated, "Dave, I'll be in touch about that next week. You better join your wife before she takes up with that idiot from Wavetrek with the swoopy haircut." The other man, realizing he had been gently dismissed, shook Haskins' hand and walked away with his cocktail in hand in search of his significant other.
Haskins didn't miss much. It was one of the things that made him a top CEO in tech for the past twenty years. So, Felicity shouldn't have been surprised to see the older man stand up and offer her a welcoming handshake, his grey eyes sparkling and a sly grin on his face.
"Good evening, young lady. Leonard Haskins."
"Oh, I know who you…I'm Fe…" she began, sliding her hand into his.
"Felicity Smoak. CEO of Queen Incorporated. MIT graduate, class of two thousand and nine.
Felicity's mouth dropped open involuntarily. Haskins still had her hand, which he placed on the table and covered with his own.
Since I'm always the oldest guy, I make it a point to know who the youngest person is at these things. For a while it was Ray Palmer."
Felicity's smile diminished slightly at his name.
"You knew Ray?"
"Yes, I did. He was worth a dozen of these boys, character-wise. Lots of them are just caretakers for corporate boards or glorified accountants. They don't know the tech. They don't love it and breathe it like Palmer did."
"You did know Ray, then," Felicity beamed at him.
"Yeah. And now that I saw you in action today I get why he put you on top at the company."
Felicity cocked her head, waiting to hear what he was going to say next.
"Well, first, you understand the tech. You're curious and you get excited when you talk about it. That passion is really important in our business. And I also suspect you have vision. I could see your wheels turning during a couple of the talks today. You're already five steps ahead of anybody. And…"
"And what?" Felicity leaned into the table to steady herself. Everything he had said had catapulted her ego and she was a little dizzy from it.
"You're fearless. You, Ms. Smoak are what I like to call, and excuse my language, a badass."
At that, Felicity threw her head back with a hearty snort. The man had no idea. Or did he?
"You don't even know me, Mister…."
"I suspected it earlier today when you held your ground on a couple of discussion points. But I knew for sure when you made the walk over here to introduce yourself."
Felicity nodded and he continued, "When I first started out I was an engineer and I hated meeting suits. It took me a while to figure out that my company needed me to get over myself and talk to people so they would understand what we were doing, what we were building. Here you are, making the long walk from a comfortable situation to talk to me."
"Thank you," Felicity exhaled with relief. "When I was in college I built a monitor with Haskins Glass and ever since I've been a huge fan. So clear and light. It's also the best bullet-proof glass on the market even though you don't market it that way."
The last part of her statement caused Haskins to raise an eyebrow. Felicity responded with a sweet grin. "Badass, remember?"
Leonard Haskins roared with laughter. He'd like to have a granddaughter like Felicity Smoak.
"So, Felicity, you looked like you came over here with an agenda. Was there a burning question?"
"I really just wanted to introduce myself, but now I do have a question, Mister Haskins."
"Leonard."
"Leonard, do you think maybe I could call you sometime? Lunch maybe?"
"You're looking for a mentor. At least you better be looking for a mentor because I'm a happily married old man," he chuckled. "And I get the feeling you're already spoken for."
Felicity cocked her head.
There's a young man around here," Leonard twirled his finger slowly, "He's holding back at a safe distance, never interfering with what you're doing but he hardly takes his eyes you. I notice things."
"That's probably Oliver. My boyfriend. Oliver Queen." Felicity beamed. Oliver was supporting her and encouraging her in his own way tonight. God, she loved Oliver Queen.
"Ah, I knew his father. Bob Queen. Good business man. Decent poker player. Didn't know shit about tech though. No offense."
"No, of course."
"Lucy and I are coming to Starling next month. Set something up with my office. We'll talk some more and you can decide if an old fossil like me should be your mentor."
"I'd really like that, Leonard."
"The pleasure has been mine, Felicity. Now I'm gonna smile and kiss your hand, just to wind up that man of yours, okay? It's the only fun I have at these things."
"Okay," she grinned and watched the distinguished businessman take her hand, place a courtly peck on her knuckles and wink. Felicity walked away from the table feeling giddy and relieved.
xxXXXxx
Scanning the lawn, clusters of pretty people chatted pleasantly and a few couples danced on a temporary parquet floor, but there was no sign of Oliver. Or Jonas. Or the Green Arrow. Felicity strolled away from the group along a pathway around the hotel toward the spot where the bluff came out furthest. There was a white wooden gazebo there. As she approached, it appeared empty. So, when she passed it she was surprised when a strong hand grabbed her arm and pulled her inside.
Suddenly she was pressed up against Oliver's expansive chest. She gasped before her eyes found his in the shadows. The white dress shirt beneath his tuxedo jacket seemed to glow a little in the diminished light. All that could be heard was labored breathing, distant music and surf pounding the shoreline below. Oliver slid one hand into Felicity's and wrapped the other gently around her waist. He pulled her against him as he situated his leg to apply pressure where it would be most appreciated. And then he began to sway a little. With tiny steps he guided her in a small circle and lowered his head to press his lips against the soft ridge of her ear.
"I thought Oliver Queen didn't dance." Felicity looked up with surprise, her eyes adjusting to make out the faint definition of his jawline.
"He doesn't," Oliver whispered, his voice rumbling against her. "But Jonas Dearden dances a little."
Felicity buried her cheek against his black suit jacket, enjoying the way he smelled and the strength of the powerful arms that held her at that moment. Their strength made her feel safe and loved every night in their bed. She never enjoyed a dance more in her life than that one in the dark.
"So, where does Jonas Dearden stand on other things?"
"I am a full service butler."
"So, you can do it all then? Take care of my clothes. Keep my calendar. Things like that?" Felicity smiled naughtily and slid her palm along the collar of his tux.
"Anything you can think of, Ms. Smoak," his voice was deep and spoke to every nerve ending in her. Then he continued, "I'm very thorough."
"Anything?"
"Anything," he growled slowly, giving a kind of erotic power to the word. The air was charged around them now. Felicity raised her hand to his face and traced the edges of his lips with her index finger.
"What if I asked you to kiss me?"
Oliver swallowed hard and snapped his eyes down to meet hers. "I would be thorough," he countered. Then he quickly, forcefully cradled her face in his hands.
At first she only felt a brush of soft lips against hers that seemed to go on forever. The anticipation of what might happen next bound them together and Felicity felt her legs getting weak in the moment. Then Oliver concentrated his affection on her lush pout, claiming it with his teeth and his own lips.
Felicity sighed and Oliver escalated the exchange into a tangle of tongues so heated that the usual complicated thoughts in her brain were reduced to simplistic words. Yes. Mouth. Yes. Love. Fuck. Oh.
When the need to breathe overtook them both and their lips reluctantly parted, Felicity looked up at him with glazed eyes. "Touch me," she managed to whisper from deep in her throat.
Oliver studied her – his desire to comply was so intense he wasn't sure where to start. Then he moved closer to drag his fingers down her neck and along the skin revealed by the deep V of her collar. Felicity reached out to grasp his bicep. It felt like something primal, even though it was sheathed under civilized evening attire.
Oliver lightly grazed her breasts with his fingertips until she arched her back and pressed her hips forward to seek more contact. But he kept roaming. His hands slipped down the satin to her waist, then to her hips and finally he stroked the material covering her thighs.
"Are you wearing the things I set out for you?"
She barely breathed as she nodded. She licked her lips for a moment, hesitating. The pulse of the surf below them crashed with force and added to the drama that was escalating quickly between them.
Oliver's eyes narrowed as he watched her turn away, reach for the hem of her dress, and hike the fabric up, over her hips. Her remarkable ass, snugly clad in black lace, was now on full display for him alone. She looked over her shoulder in search of his reaction before slowly hooking her fingers around her panties and loosening them until they were free to drop to the ground. Oliver glimpsed tantalizing flesh too briefly as her dress moved back into place. Then she stood up, stepped out of the fabric entwined at her feet, and turned to face him once again.
Oliver stalked toward Felicity and she retreated until her back made contact with one of the gazebo pillars. His broad chest pressed forward against her almost immediately. His arousal was restrained under his trousers as it brushed her against her belly.
"Can't wait to touch." He breathed against her ear just as his hand reached under her dress to grasp her thigh.
"Make you scream." His words were a promise that reverberated and caused her head to lean back against the structure. This gave him even more skin to worship.
She felt his cool hand press against her heated naked flesh and she shivered. Her thighs parted immediately, providing entry for his fingers. They trailed along her slit before exploring between her folds. They both gasped when he made contact with the wetness that had collected there.
"So wet." He buried his nose in the hollow of her neck while he slid a determined finger inside her. His other hand groped her satin-wrapped breast.
Felicity cried out from the electric impulses caused by the invasions on her body, but that didn't stop her from moving her hips against him instinctively. She clutched his jacket to remain upright. She gripped his ass because it was fucking perfect and the sensation of his finger pumping into her was exquisitely raw.
"Keep doing that," she managed to whimper. "Harder. Please. I've been so…ever since my bath." Oliver added a second finger and now his hand was speeding up. When it came to manual stimulation, nothing beat his bow hand. Years of practice nocking arrows not only made his fingers strong and callused; they made him mindful of his touch. Including his thumb to stroke her clit drew out little mewling noises from her that made him very happy.
"I wanted to go down on you in your tub. You know that? But only Oliver Queen gets to taste you that way."
His words were…effective. Felicity was losing control of her faculties quickly and she felt the wrenching of muscles and nerves low in her belly. She bit her lip and held back a curse.
"I loved my bath. I wanted you so much. So much."
Oliver took a break from marking her neck with his teeth to ask, "Are you going to come for me soon, Ms. Smoak?"
Felicity could only nod, her eyes watering as her body grew more and more tense.
"I told you I was thorough. Am I being thorough enough?" His breast hand was teasing an excited nipple now.
"Yes," she hissed.
"Yes…what?" He growled.
"Mmm…Jonas…oh, so good." Her voice squeaked out. Oliver recognized this signs that her orgasm was imminent.
"So fucking beautiful. That's it." He curled his fingers and increased the pace until they were practically vibrating inside her. Felicity responded by rocking against him desperately.
"Show me. Show me," he whispered through gravel.
"Jo—" she started to scream as she stiffened. Oliver just managed to cover her mouth with his palm before the sound pierced the air and alerted the party. For a moment she didn't breath. He didn't breath. Then he felt her pulse around his fingers. He pressed against her for support as she shuddered and then unraveled. He gently shifted his palm from her lips and she snagged his thumb between her lips.
Oliver pulled his hand away so that his mouth could descend on hers. He kissed her deeply, his tongue rubbing softly, lovingly against her palate. She kissed him back enthusiastically. When they finally disengaged, she looked up at him with a wanton disregard for propriety.
"You really are thorough," she panted with a saucy grin.
xxXXXxx
Felicity did a power walk through the lobby, trying not to appear like she had just been serviced by her butler in the gazebo. But when she entered the elevator alone she removed her shoes immediately during the ride and moaned at the pleasure of flatness against her feet for the first time in hours.
She rushed into her suite. It was dark except for the bathroom light that streamed through and cast a glow on the bed. She tossed her clutch aside and headed for the balcony doors. As soon as she opened them, Oliver was inside and moving toward her. She retreated.
"Wait. I need to get out of this dress."
"Yes, you do." Scaling two stories of balconies had brought out his Arrow voice. Felicity had giggled when he told her he couldn't walk through the public space downstairs with a raging hard on, but she wasn't laughing now. Oliver Queen with growly voice, a disheveled tuxedo and a frustrated erection was not to be taken lightly.
"Wait there. You'll rip it," she stated with a shaky voice as she reached back to open her dress.
"Yes, I will."
The sound of a zipper descending brought the illusion of relief to both of them.
Oliver moved to close the balcony doors and by the time he turned around she was naked and reaching to pick the satin garment up from the floor. Oliver rushed over and took it from her hands.
"Allow me." He bowed his head and then turned to hang her dress over the back of a chair. Satisfied that it was now safe and sound, they made eye contact.
Seconds later, she was on her back on the bed watching him quickly toe out of his shoes and socks. She didn't bother to close her legs because she had expectations.
"Whose name should I scream this time? Oliver comes to me sort of easily because I say it all the time, but Jonas makes me feel kind of dirty, which as you know is not a bad thing. At all."
"Surprise me, Ms. Smoak." Oliver grabbed his suspenders and she let out a disappointed moan. He shook his head with a smirk and let them drop so he could relieve himself of his shirt.
"Thank you for coming up here and surprising me today. I was not expecting it."
"Like I could let some random guy who looks like Thor fondle your panties. Besides…"
Oliver kneeled on the edge of the bed and unbuttoned his fly before crawling toward her, never losing eye contact. His suspenders jingled against the sheets and Felicity actually clapped. Naked Felicity Smoak, applauding and smiling was not to be taken lightly. He moved close and lowered himself until he was nestled in warmth and his nose was close enough to rub against hers.
"You are never more beautiful than when you are excited, talking about tech stuff. I couldn't miss that. Lust. Muffin." He spoke the words deliberately, as if to erase a score of errant texts.
Felicity blinked moisture away from her smiling eyes and nuzzled against his face. "Love you." She trailed her fingers up his sculpted arms and gripped his impossibly broad shoulders.
"Now fuck me, Oliver Jonas Dearden Queen. All of you."
And he proceeded to do that. For quite some time. Thoroughly.
xxXXXxx
The next morning, Felicity awoke to the sound of the surf again. Warm light streaming through open balcony doors. And Oliver Queen massaging her small foot. Just the sight of him swaddled in a sheet was heady, but then the sensation he was creating sent many feelings to many places in her body, which was just waking up.
" Ugghh, Oliver, what are you doing down there?" Her voice was still filled with sleep. How was it Oliver was a morning and a night person?
"Trying out a new scenario. The lady and the footman," he murmured while pressing into the soft arch of her left foot. He regarded the green nail polish on her toes with amusement and a little pride.
"I don't think that's right." She winced from the delightful pain caused by the pressure of his strong thumb.
"No? I'm doing it wrong? I thought you'd like it," he almost pouted as he swept his fingers over her instep, where her skin was soft and pale.
"I'm not saying…god, what you are doing there is really perfect and oh, right there." She groaned and twisted in the bed because everything he was doing below her ankles was directly influencing her hips now. "No, it's just that um, I don't think this is what a footman does. A footman helps a lady…"
"I thought I was helping." There was a chuckle in his voice. "Although some of the things you asked me to do earlier were not…ladylike." Oliver replaced his thumb with his open mouth, dragging firm lips along the pad of her foot.
"A carriage, Oliver. A footman is supposed to help a lady get in and out of a carriage. He's not supposed to…to…her feet." She was whimpering now. Definitely whimpering out loud.
He stopped and looked at her. "Don't you think, in the history of footmen, there weren't a couple that massaged their ladies' feet?" Felicity only nodded, too breathless to speak.
"That settles it," he smiled as he returned to his important footwork. "We're getting a carriage and putting it in the garage."
Felicity threw her head back and giggled. She might be a genius, but Oliver Queen was really a visionary in this area.
THE END