Author's Note: I got a few requests to continue, so I turned my one-shot This Isn't A Lie into a two-shot. This section is a little racier, so I posted it separately with a M rating (better to be safe). Reading part one first might be a good idea, but isn't essential. Please review and let me know what you think, smut isn't neccesarily my forte so feedback would help encourage me to write again.
Laurel's fingers were intertwined with his as she pulled him gently in the direction of the bed. Despite the voice of reason inside of his head urging him not to get carried away, Oliver couldn't help but follow her for a few paces. He remembered the night of Tommy's party vividly. He remembered every moment with Laurel vividly. On the island, on days when the pain would come near to too much, he would replay their greatest hits in his mind. He would remember the sound of her laughter, the touch of her hand, and he would keep fighting. Yes, Oliver remembered only too well how good Laurel had looked in the fishnet stockings that completed her outfit that year, he hadn't been lying when he'd said it. What he'd failed to mention however, was how sensational she had looked out of them.
Oliver closed his eyes tightly, drawing a deep breath and trying to slow his thundering heart, quell the liquid fire her kiss had sent racing through his veins. It was as if pieces of himself he'd long forgotten even existed were awakening against his will, the heat spreading now all the way to the deepest parts of his soul. Oliver stopped moving forward. Trying to regain his tenuous control, his fingers releasing Laurel's as he refused to follow her any further.
Laurel felt Ollie begin to resist as she led him toward the bed, his fingers no longer held tightly to her own, attempting to break their contact, but she wouldn't allow it. She squeezed her own fingers tightly to his, stepping backward in his direction so they were only a few inches apart still. She could see the tension in the way he held his body, the determination in his face, but she had decided that she wouldn't let him chase her off this time. She could tell that he was struggling with himself, attempting to maintain the facade of indifference she'd grown accustomed to seeing since his return. Now that she was certain it was a cover, now that she'd caught a glimpse of the man beneath the mask, Laurel found it impossible to walk away.
Laurel didn't let go of his hand, instead squeezing him tighter as her eyes searched his, and Oliver could feel his heart skip a beat at her act of defiance. But he had a duty to his father, to right his wrongs and help save Starling City from the corrupt and powerful. Laurel had saved his life a dozen times on that island, whether she knew it or not and Oliver owed it to her not to drag her down the same path he was heading. He owed it to her to protect her from the dangers of his life. She had been right - - everything he'd said and done since returning home had been a lie, all part of his elaborate scheme to exact justice. This he wanted for himself, Laurel he wanted for himself and he knew he didn't deserve to have her, that she would ask questions he couldn't answer, make him feel things again that he wasn't ready to feel.
"Laurel, I can't" he whispered, his voice gravely as it left his throat suddenly.
Laurel leaned forward, pressing her lips softly against his "Shhhh" she breathed against his lips.
Laurel could now see so clearly the disparity between what Oliver thought was right and what he truly wanted, between what his heart and his mind were telling him to do, that she wondered how she could have missed it before. Well, she would be damned if she'd let Oliver Queen make decisions for her like she was a child. It was her choice to make, her heart to risk, and she wanted to risk it with him.
Mind made up, Laurel placed a second chaste kiss against his lips, trailing her lips across his mouth slowly, sensually, to place another on his chin, and then his cheek, moving her way upward until her chin rested on his shoulder. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close and hugging him gently.
"You don't have to tell me" she murmured, the softness of her cheek brushing against the roughness of his stubble as she tilted her head to whisper in his ear "What happened on the island . . ." she explained, her fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck "What's happening now . . ." she continued, stroking him softly "I don't need for you to tell me" she clarified.
Laurel's words pierced straight through his heart. Even after all the time and distance between them, she somehow knew exactly what he was thinking, she knew what he needed to hear. Oliver could feel himself relaxing into her embrace, that inner voice telling him this was a mistake somehow getting quieter and farther away.
"You can't do this all alone" Laurel continued certainly "You need to let someone be there for you."
Oliver wondered for a moment if Laurel already knew his secret, if she'd see right through him just as she always had. He didn't have time to give it serious thought though, because Laurel wasn't finished.
Laurel moved her hands from the back of his neck, to the sides of his face, holding his head in place with her hands at the same time she fixed his gaze with hers. "Let me be here for you" she implored, her eyes looking deep into his own.
At her words, Ollie could practically feel the walls he'd constructed so carefully crashing to bits around him as those of a sand-castle bested by the tide. She was looking at him, seeing him in a way no one else ever had, and he found that he didn't have the energy to fight her anymore, he wasn't even sure he wanted to.
"Okay" he answered nodding his head, his eyes still locked on hers.
For long moments he remained that way, transfixed by her beauty - the way the light seemed to sparkle from her eyes, the small upward crook of her lip as she stifled a smile of victory, the way she was looking at him in a way that made him think for the first time since returning home that everything might actually be alright again someday.
Slowly, Laurel let her hands drop from his face to his chest, her fingers gathering themselves in the fabric of his shirt, holding him close as he leaned down to brush his lips against hers tentatively at first, and then eventually with more purpose. Finally, Oliver threaded his fingers through Laurel's hair, guiding her mouth to his, holding her steady as he kissed her without hurry for many minutes. He had spent five long years dreaming of this moment, he damn sure meant to savor it.
Laurel clung to his shirt as her knees suddenly seemed too weak to support her upright. In the years that had passed, she realized that she had forgotten what it felt like to be truly kissed by Oliver Queen. It was a rush of contradictions - the feeling of flying and falling all at once, as if time had sped up and slowed down simultaneously. He was moving so torturously slow right now that her body was practically trembling with anticipation. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Oliver deepened his kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth and massaging hers passionately.
Laurel let out a soft moan, the vibrations leaving Oliver's tongue tingling as they shot straight to his heart before heading farther south. He found that he had to remind himself to breathe as passion threatened to consume him. Finally he broke their kiss, gasping for much-needed air, his eyes slightly glazed as he pulled away only a hair's breadth to satisfy his need for oxygen.
Laurel took the opportunity to begin working on the buttons of his shirt, her fingers freeing them quickly. As she reached to slide the shirt from his shoulders, Oliver's hand stopped hers momentarily, his eyes searching hers with hesitation. She hadn't seen all there was to see earlier, and she'd been horrified by that.
Oliver looked more vulnerable now than she could ever remember as he held her hand in place, preventing her from removing the covering. Laurel didn't know what to say, so she just smiled, leaning up to kiss him passionately, one hand gripping the back of his neck while the other tore the fabric from his shoulders, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Laurel wrapped both arms around his neck as she kissed him, leaning the entire length of her body against his as she tried to get impossibly closer.
Oliver let his eyes slip closed, enjoying the numerous sensations her proximity was creating inside of him. Soon, Laurel's lips had left his and were traveling down the side of his neck, across his collarbone and down his bare chest. Her hands followed, fingertips skimming along his rapidly over-heating flesh leaving molten fire in their wake. Laurel seemed in no hurry, her lips covering every inch of skin, giving special attention to his scars as if she could kiss the pain away. And in truth, maybe she was, because he found that he couldn't think of anything right now but pleasure.
Laurel had reached an especially long and jagged scar, one on his left side between his ribs and his hips. She wanted to ask how he got it, she wondered how badly it had hurt, but she wanted to make Oliver feel safe more than she wanted anything else so she kept her promise, she wouldn't make him tell her.
Oliver could feel his legs begin to tremor as Laurel slowly made her way down the length of one scar. She was creating a delicious sensation as her lips pressed against the damaged skin, followed shortly by delicate fan of her eyelashes making contact with unpredictable frequency as she moved her head and the warmth of her breath dancing across his belly as she exhaled. When her hands found their way to his belt, Oliver thought he might actually pass out.
Leaning down he reached for Laurel with trembling hands, pulling her face to his once more for an electric kiss. His hands then slipped down her back and beneath her waistband, tugging gently at the silky fabric of her blouse, releasing it from it's confines. Doubting his ability to manage the buttons in his current state, he settled for pulling the garment over her head swiftly, discarding it on a nearby chair.
The blouse having been sorted out, Laurel wrapped her arms around Oliver's neck once again, kissing him thoroughly as she pressed her body length against his. The hard planes of his chest contrasted perfectly with the soft curves of hers, stoking the fire that was already beginning to burn low in her belly.
Oliver broke their kiss breathlessly, the room beginning to spin faster around him as she pressed her breasts to his chest. Turning Laurel around to so that her back faced him, he attached his lips to the base of her neck, sucking gently at the point where it met her shoulder.
Laurel allowed her head to fall backward bonelessly, resting on Oliver's shoulders as he bit softly on her neck in just the right place, causing shivers to shoot straight to her core. More desperately than she would have liked, Laurel rocked her body backwards pushing her behind into Oliver's groin, making deliberate and prolonged contact as she pulsated against him.
Oliver's hand found the zipper at the back of Laurel's pencil skirt, tugging it downward so that the material fell easily to the ground, pooling at her feet. Laurel stepped out of the material, kicking it off to the side as she turned to face Oliver, her hands on his belt again as she backed her way toward the bed pulling him along with her. This time, he made no attempt to stop her as she released the buckle, pushing the belt out of the way to make quick work of the button and fly, sliding her hands across his hips as she shoved his jeans to the floor.
The back of Laurel's knees hit the foot of the bed as they danced backward together. Oliver kicked out of his shoes as they went, leaving his pants in a heap as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her with him as he knelt on the bed. God, they still moved so well together she thought absent-mindedly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him slide them both to the head of the bed.
Oliver laid Laurel's head gently on the pillows as he hovered over her, balancing his weight on his elbows, careful not to crush her. Her eyes shone bright and clear as she looked up at him. Oliver's hand came up to brush a stray wisp of hair out of her face, tucking it gingerly behind her ear. A thousand confessions rose unbidden as he looked deep into her eyes, but the words caught in his throat rendering him speechless.
Laurel watched the tempest of emotions swirling behind Oliver's eyes in that moment and she wondered briefly how she ever could have fallen for his careless act. It was as if she could hear the words he was struggling to find.
"I missed you every day" Laurel whispered, breaking the silence.
And it was exactly what Oliver wanted to say and what he needed to hear at the same time and he found that he still could not say anything at all.
"It's okay" Laurel promised, nodding her head in unspoken understanding. Gently, she tugged him down off his elbows so that all of Oliver's weight now rested firmly atop of her "You don't have to tell me" she whispered.
The End