Title: Liquid Oxygen
Author: Lucy (somethingsdont)
Pairing: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: NC-17
Timeline: None
Summary: Eric, Calleigh and a pool. Total PWP.
Notes: Unfortunately for everyone, I am relatively easily persuaded into writing smut. I'm also kind of being persuaded into making this a three-parter. Kind of. We'll see.
The very first time Eric Delko visited Calleigh Duquesne's house, he'd noticed the pool in her backyard, and after he'd fawned over how she could go swimming without ever leaving the privacy of her home, she'd begun inviting him over for quick swimming lessons. It wasn't that she was a bad swimmer; she could definitely hold her own. But he'd been professionally trained in the art of the butterfly, and they'd both used that as an excuse to spend more time with each other, so the lessons had continued, and their relationship had grown around the small underwater pool in her backyard.
It wasn't after they'd begun dating that he started dropping by for no reason other than to drag her into her pool for an afternoon swim with him. She never minded, always found the time to fill the neighborhood with their laughter, and in that way, he'd taught her much more than a pretty swim stroke.
Recently, he'd been spending more and more nights over, and the only downside to this arrangement was that sometimes, other activities began taking bites into their swim time. Other activities encapsulated more than just sex, which he would've eagerly traded away an hour of swimming for; there were mundane household chores, her soaps and the occasional grocery store run, all things she used to work around his lessons, but now that he was present nearly all of the time, it appeared to him that the ratio of swim to non-swim was beginning to grow lopsided.
"Let's go swimming," he suggested one night out of the blue as they were putting away dishes they'd used during dinner.
She stopped what she was doing and stared at him like he'd asked her to chew off her own finger. "It's nearly midnight."
He raised an eyebrow, picking up a plate and sliding it into her cabinet. "Never gone night swimming?"
"I have an outdoor pool, Eric," she pointed out, pulling open a drawer and sticking forks and knives inside. "It's usually too cold to."
He shrugged. "It's supposed to be eighty overnight," he rattled off nonchalantly, "and the humidity skyrocketed over the weekend."
"You checked," she noted suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. "You look guilty."
"Yeah, I watch the weather network," he replied sarcastically. "You caught me." He chuckled. "Come on, Cal. It won't be this warm or humid at night for a while."
She slipped the last spoon into its place and closed the drawer. "Okay," she relented. "Just a little while. I need my sleep."
He closed the cabinet door and turned to her. "Could've fooled me last night," he murmured, ghosting his fingertips down her arm.
She bit her lip, skin heating up as she recalled just what he was referring to. "You were… persistent," she replied defensively.
He grinned and deposited a quick kiss on her lips. "Go get changed. I'll meet you outside in five."
It took her a little over ten, but if he had been planning to annoy her about it, he forgot it all the moment she slipped out the screen door to join him on the patio, clad in a little black bikini with towels draped over her arm. She looked… incredible, not that he was surprised. But something about the night air seemed to accentuate her curves, and when she moved to flick on the lights, he had to stop her. There was something mysterious and thrilling about the darkness. He took the towels from her and tossed them onto the nearest lounge chair, his eyes appreciatively running down her body.
"You're beautiful, you know that?" he couldn't help but ask, hands roaming shamelessly across her skin.
She smiled, fingers finding his wrists to stop him. "And what about you, Mister?" she teased, leaning in and lowering her voice to punctuate her point. "Not too shabby yourself," she murmured, fingernails raking across his bare chest.
He licked his lips but exercised restraint, turning his body toward her pool. "I can't believe you have your own pool," he said in awe before running toward it and tossing himself in, causing a rather exaggerated splash.
She waited until he resurfaced before approaching the pool herself. "That's the reason you're always around, isn't it?" she asked playfully as she took a seat at the edge of the pool. "Taking advantage of my possessions."
He chuckled, eyes drawn to her pale skin contrasting against her black bikini. "That's right," he replied boldly. He was pleasantly surprised by the temperature of the water. As much as he'd gone on about how perfect the weather was, he had imagined the water to be colder than it was. He pushed himself into a breaststroke and swam a few laps around her pool before approaching her. She hadn't moved from her place on the edge, legs swinging absentmindedly in the water. She was still suspiciously dry, and he wanted nothing more than to change that.
"I asked if you wanted to swim, not sit there and look pretty," he teased, stilling her leg with his hand and planting a soft kiss on her knee.
She rested the soles of her feet on his shoulders and ran them down across his chest a few times, drawing inconsequential shapes with her toes. It was a really, really distracting maneuver, and he felt his blood rushing south. He pushed her legs aside, slightly spreading them in the process, and in response, she pinned his head gently between her knees, ankles coming to rest against his back, hands moving to play with his wet hair.
"When are you growing your hair back?" she asked, fingers raking across his short, prickly haircut.
He smiled up at her, hands on her outer thighs. "You don't like it?"
"I can't… hold on to it," she replied thoughtfully, legs loosening to make room for her hands as she cupped his cheeks, fingertips trailing the stubble on the sides of his head.
He turned his head to kiss her inner thigh, then dived underwater, sliding away easily from her legs. Moments later, he resurfaced near the center of the pool.
"I'll grow out my hair if you can catch me," he challenged.
She grinned, biting like he knew she would, and pushed herself off the edge and into the water. She adopted a stroke he'd helped her perfect and chased after him, body gliding gracefully through the water. She caught up to him easily, but as she reached out to take hold of him, he submerged and used the depth of the pool to his advantage, swimming underneath her and away from her arms. She turned around and went after him again, but it was dark and he was very fast and deathly silent, and she soon lost track of him. She paddled to the edge of the deep end of the pool to give herself a short break, carefully surveying the surface for when he would inevitably reemerge.
She brushed her damp hair aside, but before she got to take two breaths, she felt his body brush up against hers, and his head popped out barely a foot away from her.
"Give up?" he asked cheekily, hands gripping the ledge on either side of her head.
She latched herself onto him before he could react. "Caught you," she murmured, stealing a small kiss as her victory prize. "Now you have to grow out your hair."
He shook his head and pulled himself closer to the wall of the pool, bringing her with him. He pinned her there and leaned in to properly kiss her, lips moving against lips. He dipped his tongue into her mouth to thoroughly taste her, and the urgency there both surprised and thrilled her. She pushed him away slightly, but he barely let two seconds pass before his lips were on hers again, seemingly insatiable.
"Eric, what are you doing?" she murmured against his lips.
He didn't reply, only held her in place with one hand as he ground his hips against hers, allowing her to know just how much he needed this, how many times he'd fantasized about taking her in the water, about making love to her against every inch of wall that surrounded her pool.
Her eyes widened, and though she immediately conjured up incredibly vivid images of the act, she pushed against his chest, skin slippery from moisture. "My neighbors…"
"Are asleep," he finished for her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
She shook her head. "They can see us," she argued, peering self-consciously at the wooden fence that separated her backyard from her neighbor's.
"Lights are off," he mumbled, continuing his assault down to her neck and back up to her ear.
"Night vision goggles," she continued irrationally, her brain looking for any reason to stop her body from reacting the way it was.
He chuckled. "Well, then let 'em look," he whispered, splaying kisses across her cheek and around her lips.
It wasn't a very good argument, but she suddenly couldn't tell the difference between good and bad arguments, a condition he used to his advantage. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her slowly, carefully balancing their combined weights with one hand, receiving a lot of help from buoyancy. With his free hand, he reached around and found the knot that kept her bikini top slick against her skin, and quickly found that he couldn't untie it with one hand, especially when she dipped her tongue into his mouth and slipped her hands into the back of his swimming trunks and began agonizingly massaging his hips, his buttocks. He tasted her and a hint of chlorine, and when her hands moved around to his pelvis, he pulled away from her lips and grunted in frustration.
"Take off your top," he told her, bending his head slightly to take the neck strap into his mouth. He tugged at it with his teeth.
She kept her hands on his pelvis and ran her fingertips over his hipbones a few times before lightly brushing his erection. He cursed under his breath and leaned in to kiss her, hips moving in an attempt to catch her wandering hand again, but no such luck. She removed her hands from his trunks, and they travelled to the back of his head, pulling him closer still. She felt his tongue trace her lips over and over.
He pulled away first, lungs screaming for oxygen, and in the darkness, he saw her smile.
"My bikini top giving you trouble?" she asked innocently, leaning in to plant a light kiss on the tip of his nose.
He responded by pressing his body against hers, pinning her against the side of the pool, though the water made it difficult for him to use his weight to his advantage. Her breathing quickened anyway, and her hands tightened around his biceps.
"Take it off," he grunted again. He kept one hand on the ledge while the other moved to her thigh, and with a little help from his knee and sheer strength, he managed to ease her higher against the side of the pool. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his torso to stay afloat, which freed his hand. Once again holding on to the edge with both hands, he brought his lips to the valley between her breasts and lapped gently at the water that remained on her skin. Her hands immediately moved to the back of his head to guide him.
He outlined the fabric of her bathing suit with his lips, causing her to squirm. Finally, she reached behind herself and undid the knot that held the piece together, then moved to the back of her neck to untie the second string. The top slid off, revealing her breasts to the humid Miami air. And to Eric's tongue, which dashed across to the nearest nipple and began teasing her with slow licks and nibbles. She moaned at the sudden sensation and bucked her hips against his body. He grinned.
He pushed away from the wall for a moment to allow her to slide down the length of his body, and before he could say anything witty about how easy it was to undress her, he felt her hands frame his face as her lips crashed against his with a carnal hunger, a muted frustration that he knew didn't originate from her. He kissed her back eagerly, pacing her tongue with his own, tasting her, tasting the animalistic urges that flared within both of them, and he had to stop what he was doing when she wrapped her legs around his thigh and rubbed herself against him. Her hands left his face and trailed down his chest, across his abdomen, and they deftly slipped into his swimming trunks again.
"Calleigh," he hissed, fingers curling against the edge of the pool. "God, if I could use my hands right now…"
"You'd what?" she asked breathily, her hands coming to grip his erect cock.
He groaned, his hips instinctively pushing against her. "I'd be inside you already," he grunted, spraying kisses on any patch of skin he could reach, "making you beg for more."
She shivered in anticipation, her fingers moving slowly up and down his shaft. "You dream big, Eric Delko."
He couldn't take the torturous movements of her hands any longer, so he brought his knee to the wall of the pool, effectively creating a makeshift seat for her, since her legs were still tangled tightly around his thigh. Using his legs to keep her afloat, he brought one hand down and with dexterity he didn't know he still possessed, he swiftly untied her bikini bottoms and tugged them away. Before his arm muscles gave out, he flicked his thumb over her clit, eliciting a whimper from her.
She recovered quickly and began tugging at his trunks, but she struggled with removing them without submerging underwater, and at the rate she was panting, she wouldn't make it long down there. Instead, she turned around so that she was facing the wall of the pool. Holding on to the edge herself to save him the effort of keeping her afloat, she turned her head slightly and grinned.
"Swimming trunks," she said, feeling his chest press against her back.
"What about 'em?" he asked playfully, depositing a kiss on her shoulder.
She smiled and leaned back slightly. "They seem to be a couple sizes too small," she teased, moving her body up and down against him a few times to prove her point.
His breathing quickened against her neck, and she saw his hands leave the edge of the pool. She smiled when he heard him slipping out of his trunks, but before she could turn around and properly take advantage of the new situation, she felt his strong arms wrap around her from behind, his fingertips suddenly playing with her nipples, and she couldn't swallow the cry that shattered through the night air.
"Shh," he whispered, his lips near her ear. She shivered, the sound of her breath transforming into a moan when he took an earlobe into his mouth and sucked gently.
He trailed his fingers down along her ribs, across her abdomen, finally settling on her inner thighs. He purposely avoided spots he knew she'd like, and he smiled in satisfaction when she began squirming, legs kicking underwater as she attempted to guide his hands without drowning them both. Finally, after sufficiently irritating her, he gave her what she wanted, moving his hands to lavish attention to her center. He pressed against her clit, eliciting a sound that seemed to vibrate through her entire body.
"Hm," he murmured playfully, fingers teasing her entrance. He nipped at her neck. "The water's making it hard to tell if you're ready."
"Eric," she ground out in frustration, hips pushing against his elusive fingers.
The tip of his finger slid in first, and he heard her take in a deep breath and hold it. Slowly and very meticulously, he added a second finger and pushed both deep into her. She held back her gasp, knowing any noise could set off suspicion if anyone was in the vicinity. She felt his fingers move in and out of her, and it felt unbelievable, especially as his other hand began teasing her clit. His actions intensified, his fingers moving and twisting just the right way against her inner walls, and she felt herself approaching the edge. She closed her eyes and prepared herself, but he felt it, too, and if there was one thing he was ready to face death or dismemberment for, it was a sexually frustrated Calleigh, so he pulled away and flipped her around before she had the chance to complain.
Her arms wrapped around his body for support, but she was seething. "Eric Delko," she warned, still trying to catch her breath. "I think you're forgetting my proficiency with guns."
He chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her nose. "I also remember your penchant for kink," he said with a raised eyebrow.
"Finish what you started," she ordered.
He lifted his hips slightly and felt his erection brush against her thigh. He did it again, but without the use of his hands, there was little he could actually get done, and he wasn't particularly confident he could risk anything that kept him from drowning in his state of semi-haze.
Luckily, she seemed to be willing to take this one. He felt her legs hook around his thighs, felt her guiding him to her entrance, felt the most incredible warmth as she slid down partially onto him.
"God," he groaned, his fingers tightening against the edge of the pool. He pushed his hips forward and pinned her against the wall, using it as leverage to slide the rest of the way into her. She moaned, and he felt her hands move around to his back, then down to his butt cheeks. Curving her palms against them, she pulled him up toward her as she ground her hips down onto him, sighing in pleasure at her own actions.
He pushed up against her, meeting her thrusts with his own as well as he could without the immediate use of his arms. Her hands were doing a fantastic job keeping them intimately joined, and it didn't take them long to find a desperate but steady rhythm together.
He kissed her, easing his tongue between her lips and finding hers to tease. This drove her insane, and she let her appreciation be known in the form of a throaty moan.
"Your neighbors are gonna hear you," he growled, pulling away to nip at her neck.
"You're the one who—oh," she cried out as he thrust into her. She tightened her legs around his waist, needing him impossibly closer, wanting him deeper and deeper. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensations he was delivering with his slow but attentive plunges. She reached behind her for the edge of the pool and held on for leverage, squeezing her leg muscles so hard she was pretty sure they were going to ache later, but she didn't care, because she was bobbing slightly in the water, meeting his thrusts with abandon, and he filled her so deeply and snugly that she had to wonder why they'd never done this in all the times he'd come over for a swim.
Then they found it. The perfect angle, the most exquisite friction either had ever experienced. She felt it, and she knew that he felt it too because he quickened the pace, working with what little leverage he had to drive into her. She raced to catch up to this new rhythm, legs clenched tightly around his thighs, but she found that she needed to do very little work to receive the most mind-blowing sex of her life.
She opened her eyes and saw him staring back at her, eyes glazed in ecstasy.
"Calleigh," he groaned, breathing erratic against her face. He closed his eyes and momentarily rested his forehead against hers, hips still moving to the best of his ability. "God, that feels so good."
She moved her legs from his thighs up to his back, crossing her ankles just above his waistline and discovering a different but equally pleasurable angle. Her hands left the ledge and came to rest on his back, and though her nails were softened by the water, she dug them into his skin as she neared the edge.
Her breathing hitched as she felt him moving faster inside her, helped by the new positioning of her legs. "Eric…"
"What?" he grunted, the very sensation of being so intimately joined with her nearly driving away what remained of his sanity.
"We're having sex in public," she whispered, her own words sending a thrilling tingle throughout her body. Her hips continued following his rapid rhythm, and she was so close she barely even knew what she was saying anymore.
He laughed breathily. "Your pool's on private property," he argued, rearranging what little coherence he still had. "But if you really want to have sex in public," he added, planting a quick kiss on her jaw, "that can be arranged."
She couldn't find the means to reply, because she was almost there. He sensed this too, and he did what he could to urge her on, thrusts increasing in fervor and momentum, the wall behind her being used for every ounce of leverage it provided. Her hands rolled up to the back of his neck, and she pulled him blindly toward her, lips crashing together as she came hard around him. Her ankles dug into his back, and he gave her everything he had to help her ride out the intensity of her climax. Her cries were muffled by his mouth on hers, and when he felt her tongue along his bottom lip, it was enough for him, too, as he pulled away from her lips to bury his face into her neck. He came quietly but powerfully, his entire body shaking as he thrust deeply into her a few times before slowing to a stop, hands still tightly gripping the ledge. She loosened her legs around him, bodies still intimately joined.
He lifted his head and smiled lazily at her. "That one's for the memory banks, huh?" he asked, kissing her softly.
She smiled back, looking extremely satisfied. "I think I'm going to have to get rid of this pool," she laughed, her tremors traveling downward, and he let out a small grunt.
"Why's that?" he asked, slowly pulling himself out of her and earning a whisper of a moan.
She reached behind her to support her own weight. "How do you expect me to actually swim in it anymore?" she asked coyly, pulling her legs up so her feet could rest against his pelvis.
He chuckled, trying not to let her feet's motions affect him. "You didn't get rid of your fridge," he pointed out with a mischievous grin. "Or your couch." He paused thoughtfully. "How many couches would we have gone through by now? Seven? Eight?"
She bit back her smile. "Make yourself useful and get me a towel," she told him.
"What if your neighbors see me?" he asked in a mocking tone, already making his way toward the nearby ladder. He pulled himself out of the water, arms aching, and as the water dripped off him, Calleigh had to appreciate that Eric had an extremely well-shaped body, right down to his… She couldn't help but smile. Yeah, she thought to herself, she was very intimately familiar with how well-shaped that part was.
As Eric dashed across her backyard to retrieve the towels they'd left on the patio, Calleigh gathered up the three pieces of clothing they'd dispersed. If her neighbors hadn't heard them, the bathing suits floating around in the morning certainly would tip them off, and she'd rather be able to say hello to eighty-year-old Mrs. Patterson without turning five shades of pink.
Lost clothes in tow, she pushed herself out of the water and into Eric's awaiting towel.
Without another word, the pair scurried inside, their little adventure in the pool not likely to ever be forgotten.