A/N: After "Sin," Rach and I were talking about how totally sexy Elliot looked in those scrubs. I decided to do a smutty little oneshot. You've been warned. Here's what should have happened, from Olivia's POV. R&R! XO, Kinsey
Disclaimer: Only my over active imagination is mine. E&O belong to Dick, and the title of this and the supply closet belong to Rach.
Playing doctor. With Elliot. Kind of conjures up some pretty nice mental images, doesn't it? Yeah. Try being me. I'm standing here, my hair up in a ponytail, purple scrubs, trying to look as "Grey's Anatomy" as I can.
And Elliot?
Better than McDreamy, McSteamy, and Dr. Spawn all rolled into one.
I sigh heavily, blowing my bangs out of my eyes.
"What if this doesn't work?" I ask Elliot.
He turns to me, scrubbing his hands through his hair. "It'll work," he says.
Sure it will. No one's filed a missing person's report. It's been long enough. Who, exactly, is not looking for their child? The image of the kid's pecked out eyes will haunt me the rest of my days. I've seen some bad shit on this job, but wow. That was just creepy. Now here we are, in an exam room turned supply closet, looking through a window into a room where we rigged up a mannequin to look like a patient. Cragen had put out a report that we had a kid in a coma, hoping to lure in the parents or someone who'd be able to tell us exactly why we found the kid in a church yard. After the crows had relieved him of his eyeballs.
"Okay," I say back, still not believing him.
Jesus Christ I'm roasting. It's so fucking hot in here.
"You okay?" he asks me.
Nope. Wanna rip your scrubs off and do you dirty on the floor of this supply closet. "Fine, why?" I lie.
"You look a little flushed."
Yeah. You make me hot. And wet. What can I say?
"I'm fine," I lie again. "Just warm," I say.
"Oh. Okay." He doesn't believe me. He smirks like he wants to say something. Irresistible fucker.
"Something on your mind, Detective?" I ask.
After what seems like hours, but has barely been seconds, he answers me.
"Want to play a game?"
"What kind of game?" I ask.
He clears his throat and smirks again. Doctor?"
Well read my fucking mind why dontcha. Since I couldn't get that lucky, I figure he's teasing, and I force myself to laugh.
He blushes. Shit. "You're kidding," I half ask, half assure myself.
"Of course!" he stammers.
Great. Did someone turn up the damn thermostat again? I glance at him in time to see his blue eyes spark butane. Fuck. He wasn't kidding. Fucking liar.
"Elliot," I begin.
"Don't say it, Liv," he says.
"I'm sorry."
"I said not to say it."
"Sorry," I mutter again.
"No big deal," he says.
"Elliot," I sigh, not sure what to say, instead of saying anything I turn back to the dummy patient. God. We do this all the time. Constantly get thisclose to what we want and then one of us fucks it up. Apparently this time it was my turn. In an instant, I make up my mind to fix it. For a couple reasons. Number one, I haven't had sex of the non-battery-operated kind in a long time. Number two, one of us needs to put an end to this vicious cycle. Number three, I just very selfishly want him to fuck me. That's pretty much it. Pure and simple. Well. Maybe not so pure.
A myriad of thoughts of how this will affect our lives run through my head.
The people who may or may not be missing their kid might show. Cragen might call. Kathy, his ex-wife. She's his ex, but that's still baggage. His kids. Our partnership. Our friendship.
One thought is blowing all of the others apart like a tornado through a trailer park.
I don't care.
I'm willing to say screw it all if I can see what's under those scrub pants.
I walk up behind him. He's leaning on the window, looking through it at the dummy patient. I reach my hands around and scrub my nails down his washboard abs. His breath blows out in a whoosh. I hadn't even known he was holding it. I bet he didn't either.
"Liv," he says.
I stand on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
"Are you sure?"
I reach beneath the elastic band of his scrub pants to take him in my hand. This time he sucks in a breath instead of blowing it out. "I'm sure," I say. I can feel him harden quickly in my hand. While I'm stroking him softly, he's muttering to God and Christ and whoever else he thinks might be listening. He's pulsing in my hand. I can tell he's close. Good thing these pants are loose. He grabs my wrist and pulls my hand out of his scrubs. He turns me so my back is against the window and pulls me into a drugging kiss. That's damn near enough to send me over the edge. One little kiss. His tongue slides into my mouth as his lips slant over mine. He glances quickly over my shoulder to make sure we're still alone.
"Should we go somewhere with fewer windows?" I manage to ask around his tongue. It's late at night, but still. A nurse or someone could come in at any moment.
"Part of the thrill," he mutters before running his hands over the skin on my back. "is the chance of getting caught."
Oh my. Indeed it is. I pull at the hem of his scrub top, scraping my nails along his abs as I drag the cotton top off over his head. I pull back from his kiss for a moment to stare at him. He's breathing heavily and my heart is pounding like I just completed a triathlon. I trace my fingers over the crucifix tattoo on his left arm and shudder. So. Fucking. Sexy. He makes my blood boil and my mouth water. He stands there, perfectly content to let me look and touch my fill. I lean forward and kiss his bare chest. He strokes his fingers through my hair. I step even closer to him and rest my head against his chest and my hands on his lower back. His fingers continue to sift through my hair and I can feel him still hard against my stomach. My fingers creep down to his waistband again, this time sneaking down to brush against his ass. He groans in my ear. "Liv…"
I smile, dragging his pants and briefs down his legs. He toes out of his shoes and socks, standing totally naked in front of me. I'm speechless. I can't believe this man is a forty-one-year-old father of four. Holy good God.
"How come I'm the only one naked here?" he asks.
"Because you're so. Damn. Good at it," I say.
He laughs and tugs my scrub top and long sleeved tee-shirt over my head, revealing my plain pink racer back bra. He reaches between my breasts and flicks the clasp open. He grins quickly and reaches to touch them. "Amazing," he breathes, testing their weight in his hands. My eyes drift shut and I sigh. He bends down and places a kiss on my left nipple. Oh. He's so wonderful. He sucks it into his mouth and rolls it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. I sigh. Holy shit.
He laughs and I realize I said it out loud. Oh well. I sag against him, nearly collapsing into a puddle of bliss. His fingers go on a little exploration under the waistband of my purple scrubs. He teases me a minute, no matter how I try to shift my hips to get his fingers anywhere near where I want them. He chuckles.
Yeah, you would think this shameless display is funny, I think.
"You're such a pain in the ass," I say.
"Nice ass, though," he says.
"Thanks," I roll my eyes. I think we're a little past pickup lines at this point. When I think he's just going to fuck with me, instead of fuck me all night (big difference), two fingers sink into my core. His thumb brushes my clit and I'm gone. Blowing apart like an asteroid hurtling through space. He slams his mouth down on mine to catch my screams so we don't attract any extra attention.
"Olivia… shhhh…." he whispers in my ear when I'm leaned against him, boneless and barely able to stand after my orgasm. I love it when he calls me Liv. But when he calls me Olivia, my full name, it reminds me how serious this is. How grown up. I'm doing the most immature, reckless thing I've ever done, he calls me Olivia, and it makes me feel grown up. Stupid, I know.
"Olivia," he whispers again. "You're so wet," he says.
I groan in his ear and bite his neck. Yeah. I know. Thanks for the update. Now let's get serious.
I push my scrubs and underwear down, kick my shoes off with them and hop up on the exam table. His eyes darken as he gazes at me, spread out in front of him.
"Is it serious, doctor?" I ask playfully.
"I think you'll be fine, Miss Benson, but just to be sure, I better get another look." And then, he's on top of me, sliding into me, and I'm so full with him that I can barely breathe. The thought of a condom crosses my mind, but I've been on the pill for years and I trust him with my life. I know he's safe. He pulls almost all the way out, only to drive right back in. I hook my ankle around his calf, at an attempt to hold him in place. He grins and kisses me. The kiss dopes me up again, and I realize that I will have to forget about all of the things that this was going to affect. I can't care. Because I am never going to get enough of this. Enough of him. I groan as he brushes his thumb against my clit. Enough of that. Never.
He places a gentle kiss between my breasts and looks up at me. His eyes lock on mine as he thrusts in again. "Harder," I groan. He takes great pleasure in this. He slams into me so hard I know there will be bruising in the morning, but I will wear those marks with pride. Like war wounds. I smile at the thought.
"What?" he asks.
"I think you're going to brand me," I say.
He smiles and kisses my collarbone, sucking gently. I concentrate on how he feels, how heady this is. I wonder if anyone besides us will be able to smell this room. At some point, it lost the disinfectant hospital smell. Now it smells like sex. I suck in a breath and just then he hits just the right spot. I can feel another orgasm building, and I want it to wash over me so badly.
"Faster," I whisper, my eyes closing.
He thrusts into me quickly, once, twice, then I'm falling. Like that dream you have where you're falling and right before you hit bottom and you wake up, your heart is racing right out of your chest? Like that. But better. My head drops back for just a second before I feel his lips on mine. This time he's trying to drown out his own screams.
"Liv. Oh fucking hell Olivia."
When he comes back down, we kiss softly for a few minutes.
"Let's wait awhile longer to see if anyone shows. We'll call the captain and see what he wants us to do. Then, if you want, we can go to my house," I suggest.
He smiles. "Not done having your way with me, Detective?" he asks.
"Not by a long shot, Doctor."
A/N: Whaddya think? I told you it was going to be hot!! R&R! No flames, I think there's enough heat in this story. : ) XO, Kinsey