I own nothing.
Olivia was sifting through folders on her desk, lost in thought. The same thought. The thought that was consuming her brain every day since it happened.
Words came out of her mouth, she sauntered up to Elliot and wrapped herself around his wide warm torso, inhaling his sweaty scent, feeling his heart pounding with a rapidity that matched hers. Adrenaline coursed through her body; she never imagined she'd be close enough to touch Elliot's bare chest, and there she was, gripping him for dear life. She had no time to think. This seemed to be appeasing the thugs in the room, but she couldn't focus on the act. It wasn't much of an act. He was on the bed wearing tight black shorts, and she felt like stripping everything off, forcing him to look at her as a woman and not just a partner. He could barely look at her. He was so wooden, almost repelling her when Tybor told her to leave. The erection she felt was likely from the danger and thrill of almost being caught and killed.
Elliot was in the crib. His marriage was over. The divorce papers were signed and he wasn't contesting anything. Kathy had cheated on him, but he knew that the job, Liv, lots of other things caused the break-up years ago. He couldn't blame Kathy for seeking human companionship, for wanting to feel loved. It was never verbalized but both of them knew he only had feelings of romantic love for Olivia. He thought he had kept himself guarded, unemotional, yet somehow Kathy saw it in his eyes. He didn't want to fight it anymore.
Hearing her sultry voice made him almost lose his mind. One glimpse of her as she emerged from the bathroom and he was at attention. Shit. Her arms were pulling him into her breasts. He felt her nipples poke at his chest. Certainly she felt his erection. She must hate him for getting her into this situation. If he'd not been a coward avoiding his wife, she wouldn't have been there at all, but a sick part of him was thankful for this brief, psychotic moment where she was hanging on him in that skimpy bra, so silky soft, it took incredible concentration to look away and focus on the guns drawn on them. He wanted to throw her down on the bed and…
"El, wake up! We have to get back to that charter school in Harlem. The principal found something that may help our case. Are you with me?"
Yes, I'm with you even when I'm not physically with you. You're always in my head, my dreams, every waking thought, yet you may as well be a million miles away.
"Sure, give me a minute I'll meet you at the car."