A/N: Warning. Warning. Warning. Nothing but smut ahead. I don't know where this came from, because I really do not like writing smut. It always feels like I am writing step by step assembly instructions. Anyway, this is definitely a strong MA rating, so if you are not over 18. . . PLEASE do not read.
And yes, I know, I should really be finishing up Past and Present Collide before cranking out all these random one shots. . . but I can't help myself. They are fun. I have two chapters of P&P finished, but I want to write a couple more to make sure they flow. I hate it when I post something, and then wish I could go back and change something. So, for those who have asked, I will finish that one soon, promise.
Enjoy!
*************************************
Temperance Brennan came out of her bedroom after a quick change of clothes. Seeley Booth was still standing at the door, swaying slightly, holding on to the clothing she had discarded in the cab ride home. They had spent the evening celebrating the end of a case with drinks, and dinner, then a few more drinks. Possibly a little karaoke? He definitely remembered a raunchy drinking game or two. After several hours, they decided mutually that a cab ride home would be best. She declared, on the way home, that the cab was too hot, and removed her sensible jacket, leaving her sitting next to him in a tight pair of jeans, and a wispy piece of silk that resembled a very tiny shirt with very tiny straps holding it up. When she reached behind her back, unhooked her bra, and made it miraculously appear through the armhole of her little shirt and discard it, he didn't question it, just agreed that it must be very uncomfortable.
She was now standing in front of him in her little scrap of silk shirt. Apparently, the jeans were as uncomfortable as the bra, because they had been replaced by a comfortable pair of pajama pants. He shoved the jacket, bra, and a pair of stylish high heeled boots into her arms, and told him he needed to sit down for a minute. He kept having flashes of very unprofessional behavior that took place in the cab. This, along with the dizzying amount of alcohol he consumed, was making him feel very unsteady on his feet.
Brennan followed him to the sofa, and nonchalantly placed herself on his lap, straddling his legs. She leaned forward and buried her face in his neck, inhaling his aftershave. He felt her breasts rub against his shirt as she trailed her tongue up his neck, starting at his shoulder, and ending under his ear. Her breath trailed along the wet skin and ended with a puff in his ear. His hands went to her behind, and pushed her snugly over his erection, now throbbing between her legs. He tilted his head back, resting it on the back of the sofa, and had an internal fight with the devil on his shoulder. He chuckled at the image, and then shook his head, lifting her from his lap, and setting her back on the sofa next to him.
"As hard as it is to leave, that is exactly what I am going to do. We have had a lot to drink."
She leaned forward, her eyes locked with his. She reached out and and cupped her hand around the erection raging in his suddenly unbearably tight jeans. He sucked his breath in, closing his eyes for a moment while the shock vibrated through his body. She took his hand and pressed it between her legs before he could register what she was doing. He could feel the heat radiating from her center, and the wetness through her panties and pajama pants. Her mouth was gravitating closer and closer to his, her voice low and husky. "It is obvious we both want the same thing."
He could feel her breath against his lips, and they were still joined by their hands on their throbbing centers. He all the self control he could muster, and pushed her hand away with his free hand. "We are not going to do this tonight. I have waited four years for this. There are so many things I want to do with you, but I also want to remember them the next morning."
She sat back a bit, letting his hand slip out of hers, back to a more respectable resting place on his thigh. She was reeling briefly from his rejection, somewhat shocked, but not really surprised. If anybody could be depended on to do the right thing, all the time, it was Seeley Booth. "OK. You are probably right." She leaned forward again. "If I promise that we stay completely clothed, and keep our hands to ourselves, will you stay for a while?"
He looked at her suspiciously. She was breathtaking, the picture of innocense, but it was her stubborn streak, and her complete lack of self consciousness in certain situations that had him skeptical. "OK." He flashed her a grin, then closed the distance between them for a brief seering kiss. His hands came to rest around her face and he whispered, "I may have taken a temporary leave of my senses by not taking you right here and now. Don't think for a minute that is not exactly what I want to do, but when this happens, it's going to be something both of us will want to remember." He kissed her again, his lips crushing against hers, his tongue sweeping across her lower lip, and plunging inside to taste her, the salty taste of tequila mingling with the lingering flavor of whiskey in his mouth.
They were both panting and trying to catch their breath when he ended the exploration of her mouth, and pulled away substantially, creating a distance between them. She followed him, leaning over him, running her finger over his mouth, tracing the line of his lips. "We will wait for the things you have planned, but you promised to stay."
"Are you crazy?" He laughed, and she felt the rush of warm air over her fingers. "I am not a saint. I can only take so much."
She took a shaky breath, and let it out slowly, dipping two fingers between his lips, and inside his hot, moist mouth. "The question is, how much can you take?"
His heart was pounding, and without thinking, he took her fingers deeper into his mouth, sucking and running his tongue through and around them. Finally, he grasped her wrists in his, and slowly pulled her fingers out of the slippery suction of this mouth. He turned her wrists loose, and reminded her, somewhat dejectedly, of her promise of not touching.
She slid back on the sofa, away from him a bit. "You're right. I think the promise is that I wouldn't touch you, and you wouldn't touch me." She kept her eyes on his, as she slid her hand underneath the hem of the silk tank top. She touched her wet fingers to her already protruding nipple, rubbing slow circles around it, and catching it between her fingers and pinching. "I never said anything about not touching myself." She made a noise deep in her throat as she cupped her breast in her hand and squeezed, making her erect nipple even more prominent through the silk tank top.
"Bones." It was more of groan than a verbalization of her name. "We are really going to have to go out drinking more often." His voice cracked, and he grinned at her somewhat crookedly. He watched in deep fascination as she teased and plucked and rolled her peaks until he didn't think he could take the painful throbbing in his pants any longer. "Temperance. . ." His voice died out, and his mouth became dry. He took a deep breath, trying to pace himself for a long interesting show.
"Do you want to me to keep going? I'll stop if you want me to." She had both of her hands under her shirt around her naked breasts, and was flicking her nipples with her thumbs.
He watched her body jerk in response. She closed her eyes and told him she was pretending that he was touching her, that it was his hands holding her and making her respond to his touch. He heard her moan softly, and her eyes fluttered open to look at him. He wanted to reach out and touch her so badly, but he was determined to save that for another night. "No, please don't stop. Show me what you would like me to do to you." He couldn't believe this was happening.
One of her hands left her breast, and slid down her belly and under the waistband of her pants. He could see her running her fingers along the length of her center. "I am so wet, and swollen. I am ready for you to be inside me. My panties are soaked through. Do you want me to put my hand inside my panties, and feel the wetness on my fingers. If you were here, closer, I would take your cock in my hands and rub it along my slit until it is covered with my juices."
He swallowed hard, his heart pounding like it would leave his chest. He was fighting the urge to do exactly what she was describing with all of his being. "Bones, you are driving me crazy here." He could see that she was moving her panties aside, that she must be touching bare flesh. The thought sent a chill through him, along with a painful ache, as his jeans were becoming unbearable tight.
She circled her clitoris with her forefinger, letting her knees fall apart. She was breathing heavy and moaning in time with her fingers movements. "I would drive you crazy before I guided you inside me." She repositioned her hand and dipped one finger inside of her velvety smooth walls. She threw her head back as she moved first one finger, then two, in and out in a steady rhythm, catching her clitoris with her thumb and rubbing it firmly.
He was unable to move. This was without a doubt, the single most incredible thing he has ever been a part of, without really participating in it at all, if that's even possible. He was more turned on than he had been in, well, in forever probably. He found himself unbuttoning his pants, relieving some of the pressure from the incredible swelling going on in his lower region.
That movement did not escape Brennan's attention, and she picked up her pace to a frenzied speed. "Oh God, Seeley, this is your last chance to change your mind." She threw her head back again, riding a particularly strong constriction. She was moaning his name over and over and writhing in front of him.
"Don't stop for me. Let it go." Her hips bucked and her body dissolved into tremors, as he leaned over her and watched her face as she went over the edge, placing soft kisses on her face and lips.
She slowly opened her eyes, and found him looking at her like he had never looked at her before. She stood up, smiling at him, and told him she was going to go freshen up. She winked at him, and his eyes followed her out of the room. He sank down into the cushions on the couch, willing his heart to slow down to a normal pace, and mumbled to himself, "Maybe I am a saint."
