Title: Need

Author: KalenCaelli

Rating: Hard M

Disclaimer: L&O:SVU is owned by people richer than me. If I did own it, I'd have Mariska and Kelli on retainer, a private island in the Caribbean, and a house full of puppies and kittens. Like literally full of them – from floor to ceiling. And there'd be YouTube videos of them doing cute things like sleeping and eating and chasing things and … okay my youngest shih tzu is giving me the stink eye.

Author's Note: I was absolutely overwhelmed and thrilled with the support I received for Relapse. While I'm hard at work writing the sequel, the first chapter of which will be posted Sunday, I wanted to show my appreciation by also posting the first chapter in a companion story (side-arc) that will consist mostly of NSFW PWP pieces. So really it's an excuse for Olivia and Amanda to have sex as often as possible. If that's not your cup of tea then I'm not sure what's wrong with you. Might I suggest therapy? Chocolate? Puppies and kitties? Not all of the shorts will be in chronological order – I'll try to give an approximate time or episode when each one occurs so you can see where it would fall in the timeframe of Relapse, to give some perspective on the character's mindset at a moment in time.


OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Chapter 1: Payback's a...

(post: Spiraling Down)

December 2011

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She isn't supposed to be here.

She isn't supposed to be at her door.

She isn't supposed to be doing this.

But since it happened a little under one month ago she's thought of little else.

They've worked together, and she's been professional, even cordial, but since that night, it's nearly been impossible to forget.

She is about to make the second biggest mistake of her life.

Lifting her hand, she hesitates only for a moment, finally bringing her knuckles against the door. Three times. Hard.

There is a pause, and the music that's playing inside is turned down. A pair of footsteps pad their way to the door. There is a pause, then the door opens.

"Olivia?"

Amanda Rollins stands in the middle of her doorway, clad in a red Atlanta Falcons t-shirt and a mismatching green pair of boxer shorts. Her long blonde hair is twisted up into a messy bun, strands of hair poking out in all directions. Her right hand is wrapped around a spoon and her feet are bare.

God, even dressed like this she's still breathtaking.

"Can I come in?" Olivia's stomach churns. Why she wants this, needs this, she is not sure. It just is.

And she fucking hates it.

Amanda steps back, tugging the door open, bewildered. Olivia steps inside, moving towards the second-hand couch in the center of the living room. The kitchen is small, and the TV in the corner is turned to the local sports channel.

Brown eyes dart around the room, taking in the cozy decor, the warm lamp light that bathes the apartment in a heated glow. There are a few pictures scattered around the room, mostly of what Olivia assumes is a younger Amanda with people she assumes are family based on similar characteristics — one older female, one younger. A couple appear to be academy photos.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Amanda closes the door, locking it and stepping around Olivia. "I've got cokes, tea, coffee," she pauses, "I've got some harder stuff too if you want it."

"What kind of harder stuff?" Olivia is walking towards the couch, standing in the living room, a little at a loss for how she wants this to play out. She stares at the couch to center herself, because it's easier than looking at Amanda this exact moment.

"Um, I've got some beers, some tequila, some whiskey," Amanda is in the kitchen opening and closing cabinets, pulling out a couple of glasses. Looking over her shoulder, cobalt eyes focus on their uninvited guest, studying Olivia with a little confusion and more than a little curiosity.

"Whatever you're having," Olivia mumbles, chewing on the inside of her cheek and casting a surreptitious glance over her shoulder. Amanda is pouring some of the tequila into a set of glasses, and when she finishes she tucks the bottle underneath her arm, and brings the glasses to the living room. The blonde passes one of the glasses to Olivia, puts the bottle on the end table, and raises her own glass with her right hand.

"Cheers," it is as much a question as a declaration. Olivia touches her glass to Amanda's, downing the liquor in one smooth motion, relishing in the way it burns going down her throat.

The drunker she is the easier it is to stomach — this need.

"So, um, I wasn't expecting to see you today," Amanda tilts her head towards the couch, following Olivia and taking a seat on the cushion next to her.

"Yeah, I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by." It's not even a believable lie, and Olivia wants to kick herself for even uttering it.

Amanda startles, because she was not expecting this, and because she knows Olivia is lying. They may have been cordial, but they have definitely not gone out of their way to spend time with each other. The blonde sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, unscrewing the bottle of tequila and pouring herself another glass. She holds the bottle out to Olivia, who takes it, jolting at the touch of their fingers. For a moment Olivia wonders if it'd be terribly wrong to drink straight out of the bottle, but then decides she's being overly dramatic as she pours.

This is about sex. Not relationships or feelings. So there's no reason to get worked up.

All Olivia has to do is ignore the fact they work together and it's no different than any other one-night stand.

Two-night stand.

"So..." Amanda's eyebrows raise and she looks expectantly at Olivia, her expression cautiously neutral, a fact for which Olivia is extremely grateful. She'd hate to have to find a way to dispose of Amanda's body.

"Look, I was thinking about..." Olivia hesitates, heart racing. Why did she ever think this was a good idea? Olivia downs the tequila, immediately pouring another. She's wondering, for a moment, if there's a way to get out of this with some pride and some dignity intact, when Amanda's voice cuts through the growing fog with a clarity that's as startling as those crystal blue eyes.

"You know ... Liv ... I was thinking about those rules." Amanda is guarded, not that Olivia can blame her. Everything about their first encounter had been carefully controlled by the brunette. Amanda's choices had been relatively limited to going along with it or being thrown out. To her credit, she could do the same to Olivia. Or worse, she could humiliate Olivia.

She could. But she doesn't.

"The rules," Olivia laughs weakly, running a hand through her auburn tresses, looking away as if they weren't her rules. Her own goddamn rules. "I was thinking that, um, maybe we were a little hasty, with um, keeping it to just one encounter." As a general rule Olivia isn't all together convinced about the presence of God, but if there is one, and he's merciful, then she'll be swallowed by a sinkhole right now.

Amanda looks surprised for about two seconds before she neutralizes her expression, looking down at the empty glass in her hands.

"I... see," Amanda bites her lower lip, stealing a hopeful glance over at Olivia.

"Look this still doesn't mean anything." Olivia feels the need to clarify this, even though it should be painfully obvious from her demeanor, her eyes sliding over to where Amanda is now shifting uncomfortably on the sofa. "I'm not ... it's just sex."

"Right..." Amanda repeats, setting the empty glass on the ground. "Just sex. Just like before."

There is a long, pregnant pause, both women seemingly locked in their own silent contemplation of prolonging this bizarre relationship they share. Olivia knows that the ball is in Amanda's court, and for that reason alone she sits there silently, bracing herself for a decision either way.

Amanda slowly takes the empty glass from Olivia's hands, setting it on the floor next to her own, their eyes locking.

The blonde's eyes are startling clear — like a block of ice floating in a sea of blue.

Amanda leans forward, combing the fingers of her left hand though Olivia's thick, dark locks. The blonde pauses for a split second when her lips are hovering over Olivia's, breathing in the older woman's scent. The kiss that follows is gentle, tender, with enough passion to cause the hair on Olivia's forearms to stand on end.

Olivia moans into the kiss because this, this, is what she has been missing — lips as silky as milk, the smell of strawberries and vanilla, and the taste, oh God the taste. Amanda's mouth is gently working against Olivia's, finding that easy synchronized rhythm they fell into before, only this time Amanda is the aggressor, shifting her weight onto her left leg and hand, nudging a knee between Olivia's thighs. Olivia allows herself to be guided onto her back because Amanda is so goddamn good at this, groaning as the younger woman's thigh pushes the seam of her jeans into her crotch.

Amanda's tongue is fervently exploring her mouth, tracing along her upper teeth, swirling around her own tongue. The blonde's hips are rocking against her thigh, and each time her hips grind against Olivia, the seam of Olivia's jeans press against her clit. Amanda's right hand skirts along the hem of Olivia's olive green t-shirt, brushing the back of her fingertips teasingly across the tanned stomach, feeling those tense muscles quiver involuntarily.

Olivia is already rising quickly towards a peak, bucking her hips against Amanda's thigh, hands grabbing Amanda's ass through her boxer shorts, squeezing the muscled flesh through the thin cotton, wishing to hell these irritating barriers are gone but unwilling to stop the frantic rhythm. A strangled noise escapes the younger woman's throat, Amanda slowing the motion of her hips, resisting Olivia's efforts to speed the pace back up.

Amanda pulls her lips away reluctantly, planting a kiss along Olivia's chin, her jawline, her earlobe. "Let's take this to the bedroom."

"Oh god," Olivia groans, bucking her hips against the younger woman's, brown eyes sliding open to lock gazes with the blonde. "You only good for one round, Rollins?" Grinding suggestively against that muscular thigh. "I wouldn't have pegged you for a one and done."

Cobalt eyes flash in challenge, the corner of Amanda's mouth quirking upwards. "Oh, I can go all night. I was just trying to let you save face, old-timer." Her mouth slams against Olivia's once more, driving her thigh hard against Olivia's core. Her right hand reaches underneath Olivia's shirt and cups her breast through the lacy fabric of her bra, thumb flicking against the hardened nipple.

Olivia whimpers because the combined sensations are almost too much. With one last powerful thrust, the brunette tumbles over the edge, waves of pleasure flooding her body, her arms locking around her lover's back to center herself.

Amanda continues to pepper Olivia with kisses, brushing lips across a sweat-soaked forehead, peppering her closed eyelids, kissing her neck and then brushing the corner of her mouth.

Olivia feels satisfied, sated — knows that she could go home having scratched this particular itch, but even she's not a big enough bitch to let Amanda get her off without returning the favor.

That she'll thoroughly enjoy returning the favor is beside the point. And also something she's not prepared to acknowledge, even to herself.

"You want to go to the room now?" Olivia asks, glancing down at the blonde head currently buried into her neck. The bun is half undone, little flyaway strands peeking out in all directions. Amanda nods, exhaling and pushing herself up with a grunt. Olivia rolls to a seated position, taking Amanda's proffered hand when she stands.

"It's this way." Amanda jerks her head in the direction of the only other door, which is where Olivia would have guessed the bedroom was. Amanda opens the door, nodding to a half-made bed with a crimson duvet and cream-colored sheets. There's not much room in here for anything besides the bed and a small dresser made of light oak. The small closet is filled to near overflowing and past the bed is another door leading to a darkened room that can only be the bathroom.

They stop by the side of the bed, each woman looking at the other before undressing silently. Olivia peels off the t-shirt and her jeans, tennis shoes and socks, reaching behind her back to unhook her black lace bra and down to push off her matching panties. Amanda slips her Falcons shirt off, not having bothered with a bra since she was at home and it was her day off, pushing the boxers over generous hips.

With a weighty exhale, Amanda slowly turns and blue eyes slide up Olivia's body, taking in the sight of the naked brunette with obvious appreciation and more than a little arousal. Olivia stands there observing the blonde, studying the hardening coral points of Amanda's nipples as she backs towards the bed, her breath shaking when the blonde grabs her by the fingertips and pulls her closer.

That first press of skin on skin is every bit as intoxicating as Olivia remembers, both women releasing throaty moans as naked flesh joins. Olivia's weight is popped up on her forearms, the brunette taking some time to study the woman beneath her. There was not enough time for it the last time they did this, and for some inexplicable reason Olivia wants to commit the body below to memory. It's a parade of senses, the sight of the creamy skin beneath her, every line, every scar. The sound of Amanda's shaky inhale and exhale as her body thrums with desire. The feel of the silky skin, smooth contours broken only by hardened pebbles above and a willing warmth below. The honey-sweet smell of the younger woman's arousal, a potent aphrodisiac. The taste...

The taste...

Suddenly she wants more, much much more.

Dipping her head, Olivia captures Amanda's lips in a tender kiss. Angling her head, Olivia traces a tongue across the blonde's lower lip, slipping it inside of Amanda's mouth, tracing it along her teeth, twining around the younger woman's tongue.

Amanda releases a huff of air, capturing Olivia's tongue between her teeth and sucking on it, her nails scratching lightly along the bare flesh of the brunette's back and across the swell of her ass.

"You make me so fucking insane," Olivia murmurs, as a flood of moisture heads south, Olivia growing even wetter near her core. Pulling back slightly, Olivia drags her mouth along the angle of the blonde's jaw, her tongue tasting the sweat-soaked skin and capturing an earlobe between her teeth. Amanda groans, her hands gripping Olivia's ass.

Olivia's lips trail down the curve of her neck, pausing briefly to nip, then kiss Amanda's pulse point, feeling the flutter of her racing heart. Her free hand is massaging Amanda's breast, rolling the pebbled flesh between two of her fingers, silently wondering at the contrast between the hard and soft flesh. Her mouth follows the same path her fingers take, down Amanda's sternum, around the hardened nub standing proudly at attention, latching on with a powerful suction and flicking it repeatedly with her tongue.

"Oh god Liv," the blonde's back arches into her touch, fingers tangling in her hair, twisting almost painfully. Amanda's legs are wrapped around Olivia's body, and the older woman can feel Amanda's arousal coating her stomach, which only heightens her own excitement. Humming contentedly, Olivia slides a hand between her body and Amanda's, tangling through the short curls and dipping into the willing warmth, teasing past the sensitive bundle of nerves, circling the younger woman's entrance.

Amanda's legs tighten even more.

Slowly, ever-so-slowly, Olivia slides two fingers inside of Amanda, both women groaning at the intimate contact. The brunette holds her fingers still for a moment, relishing in the wet, tight heat, before pulling them out almost fully and thrusting them back in. In and out. Over and over. Olivia loses herself in the sensation of Amanda enveloping her, constricting her.

It doesn't take too much longer before Amanda tumbles over the edge with a lengthy cry, clutching the back of Olivia's head like a lifeline. The blonde's body convulses around her for a seeming eternity, finally relaxing, her legs falling bonelessly to the bed. Olivia's forehead is pressed against her sternum, sweat-soaked tendrils of hair plastered to her forehead.

"Fuck," Amanda mutters, shuddering when Olivia pulls her fingers out, triggering little aftershocks that roll through her body like waves. Olivia really, really wants to taste her fingers. Wants it with every fiber of her being. And she hates herself for wanting it, for having come here in the first place because she's not ready for that, not yet.

But Olivia is here and while she's not sure if she can trust Amanda, Olivia is fairly certain she can deny anything the blonde could've insinuate. She hesitates, glancing towards the blonde, who is still lying there with her eyes closed. Olivia rolls to her back because that's where she's most comfortable, anywhere she doesn't have to see that look of silent wonder on Amanda's face and where she can ignore those gnawing feelings that this is one colossal mistake compounded.

"We need to set some parameters to these rendezvous, Rollins." She feels like a bitch for bringing this up right now but she can't afford to lose her head about this. Olivia Benson has spent countless years cultivating her reputation and is not about to lose it over a moon-eyed detective who's a great kisser with talented hands and a tongue...

Stop it, Benson.

Amanda's jaw tenses ever-so-slightly, but the young detective gives a curt nod, blue eyes blinking to focus on the popcorn ceiling.

"I think it would be a good idea if in the future we give each other a heads up if we're on the way over," Olivia says measuredly, "in case there's company."

"You mean like you did today?" Amanda drawls, arching one eyebrow dubiously.

Olivia blinks rapidly, surprised. She hadn't thought of Amanda having company given that she'd moved to New York a short time ago. But how long does it really take to start dating anyways?

"I should have checked with you ahead of time," Olivia concedes. She hadn't really thought of that, and feels a little bad for it. She bites her bottom lip. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Amanda intones, "I'm not."

Now it's her turn to clench her jaw.

"We still good for the rest of those rules?" Amanda drawls. "Or are you only good for for the one, Benson?"

That little...

Olivia rolls over, pinning Amanda underneath her, grabbing the blonde's wrists, and pinning them above her head.

"Oh I can go all night."