Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

A/n: For those that don't know this is a fun collab with the awesome Dispatch22705 to keep us all going through this hiatus! Each one will be a BB first time, likely smutty. So enjoy and don't forget to let us know if you likey like!

Room for Dessert

Brennan opened the fridge and the label on the bottle caught her eye.

"Booth, you got the wrong wine," she groaned.

"What?" He crowded behind her to peer over her shoulder. "What do you mean I got the wrong wine?"

"Precisely what I said." Annoyance bubbling close to the surface, she reached for the slightly chilled bottle. "Neither Angela nor Cam drink this wine. I provided very clear instructions, Booth."

"Okay, I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I can go back and get the right—" His voice trailed off when she slammed the bottle down with more force than necessary. "Bones?"

"It's too late. Everyone will be here soon." With a slightly frantic look, she turned back to the oven and yanked on the handle to check on the chicken. "This will never be done in time." Her tone was dark and her eyes a blue gray that reminded Booth of storm clouds. "There will be no food or drink and—"

"Bones …"

"And I burned the potatoes!" she confessed on a near wail. "This meal hasn't even started and it's already a disaster!"

It dawned on him just how nervous she was over this and he took a cautious step forward. "We don't have to do this today, Bones."

Automatically, her hand went to her still flat stomach. "Yes, we do. It can't be a secret forever."

"I know, but …" With a sigh, he closed the distance and placed his hands on her waist. "This is our news, we can share it whenever we want."

"My dad is coming from North Carolina for this," Brennan mumbled. "Angela and Hodgins had to find a babysitter. Cam rescheduled a date with Paul. We can't just not have dinner." Her forehead dropped to his shoulder. "I should just tell my dad over the phone and send an email to everyone at work. It would be very efficient, don't you think?"

"Um …" He stroked her hair and tried to think of the correct thing to say. "I don't think telling your dad you're pregnant over the phone is the best idea, Bones."

"What about the email?" she inquired hopefully.

"Let's call that plan B, okay?" he suggested, pressing a kiss to her hair. "We can call everyone and push back the dinner time or take everyone out. But either way, we don't have to say anything today." Curving his hands over her shoulders, Booth began to massage gently, trying to dissipate the knots of stress. "Whatever you want to do, baby."

Her head lolled back and his hands felt so good that Brennan let him get away with the endearment. "Mmm …" she hummed softly. "I don't know. I need to think."

"Okay."

"But don't stop doing that," she requested, eyes closing. He smiled and leaned forward, pressing soft little kisses up and down her throat. Brennan sighed in sheer pleasure. "Or that."

Without stopping the soft brush of his lips, he covered the back of her neck with a hand and applied gentle pressure. With the other one, Booth carefully rolled down the little elastic band holding up her ponytail. He pocketed the band and buried his fingers in the waves of hair falling around her shoulders.

"Is this helping you think?" Booth murmured, catching her bottom lip between his teeth in a tiny bite. He stroked from her nape down to her back and then wrapped an arm around her waist.

Eyes closed, she nodded. "Mm-mm."

He walked her back until they hit the wide counter of her kitchen. They'd decided to have the dinner at her apartment because it was bigger and the kitchen roomier, which Brennan decided was essential when cooking a meal for seven people. She coordinated schedules and bought ingredients and thought everything would go smoothly, but one thing after another had gone wrong until she'd felt the irrational urge to scream.

For the last few hours, stress had wound through every inch of her, but Booth's hands and lips were working miracles. "This is very productive," Brennan decided, leisurely running her hands down his stomach. Her fingers slipped under the hem of his T-shirt and her nails scraped gently over the hard, bare flesh underneath. "Very …conducive … to …reasoned … thoughts."

He made a sound that was half-gasp, half-laugh and covered her mouth with his in a wet kiss with plenty of tongue. She pressed herself against him and Booth found himself boosting her up to the counter. At the action, her skirt and the apron she was wearing bunched up. His palms dragged up her thighs and his body hardened with every inch of silky skin exposed to his hands.

When his fingertips brushed the front of her panties, Brennan's eyes opened for the first time. "Booth …"

"What?" He used a finger to nudge her panties aside and groaned at the warm, soft feel of her satiny center.

"We don't …ahh," she breathed heavily, squirming as his finger found her clit and stroked in tight little circles. "Don't have time."

His eyes slitted at her flushed cheeks and his mouth trailed kisses along her jaw until he could capture her sensitive earlobe with his teeth. "We don't?" he whispered innocently.

Brennan's hands went to the snap of his jeans entirely without her permission. She should be responsible, she should be reasonable, she should take her hands off his body and decide what to do about their dinner party. Instead, she fisted him tightly and spread her legs wider.

He moaned his approval, sinking a finger into her and pumping a few times until her wetness practically dripped down his hand. She groaned in displeasure when he removed that slickly stroking finger, but Booth slammed one hand on the counter and surged between her thighs, using the other one to keep her panties out of the way.

Brennan's legs wrapped around his waist, she gripped his biceps and they both discovered that her kitchen counter was the perfect height for hot and heavy sex. Her hands moved to his shoulders and then wound into his hair. His own clutched at her hips as his body moved, thrusting again and again. Pleasure made everything go tight inside him and he buried his face against her neck. She was panting heavily, straining against him, driving him wild and he sucked at her skin, trying to hold on.

"Baby, c'mon," he groaned heavily.

Head thrown back, Brennan shuddered and clenched around him. Feeling her pulse was his permission and with a low moan, he shot inside her.

"That was an excellent way to think," Brennan said after a few minutes, voice still a little breathless.

Booth laughed weakly and nuzzled her throat. "Goddamn," he exhaled dazedly. He raised glassy eyes to hers, lips curved in a sexy grin. "We have got to do that again."

Brennan hummed giddily, the stress of her day melted away. "I believe we should order in dinner and tell everyone today."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Ordering in food seems like the most efficient course of action considering the potatoes are burnt and the chicken is still mostly pink."

"No, I meant about telling everyone—"

"I know." Leaning forward, she brushed his lips lightly. "I'm sure about that too."

"Okay." He framed her face in his hands and kissed her red lips. "If we order food, does that mean we have time for dessert now?"

Her eyes glittered. "Is that a euphemism for—?"

His mouth crashed against hers again. "Oh, yeah."

-x-

If you haven't yet, check out Dispatch's thread for some hot, sweet, delicious first times-it's under my favorites!