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Offer and Acceptance
If you want, I can help you out with it. We can take care of it anywhere … everywhere, really.
Oh my god, she was going to lose her mind if she didn't stop thinking about it. Unfortunately, the words echoed inside her like a relentless beat for the rest of the day.
Was there any possible way that she had misunderstood? She had tortured herself with that particular question all day, as well. It didn't seem possible, particularly in light of their earlier conversation in her office.
Brennan grimaced at the reminder. Conversation was not really the right word for what had happened. More like she had completely obliterated the admittedly thin filter between her mouth and her brain and informed her partner just how desperate for sex she was. And he had offered her a solution.
Part of her realized accepting his offer would be incredibly reckless. This was her partner. Booth. She couldn't simply use him for sex. But the other part of her, the one that was excruciatingly horny—the word seemed crass, but it was unquestionably accurate—was loudly reminding her that he offered. And the simple reality was that she wasn't just horny, she was horny for him. Bastard. Why did he have to distill sex appeal the way other men distilled cologne?
But the better question was, why was she so hopelessly susceptible to him? He was good-looking, yes, but she had met quite a few attractive men over the years. She was smart enough to know that it was more than the way he looked, it was him. It was the thought of him running those hands over her, the way his eyes would darken when he undressed her, the way he would feel inside her, the way his voice would sound when he moaned her name. And a million other things she was desperate to experience.
With a frustrated sound, she rose from her desk, looking blindly at the empty hallway outside her office. A glance at the clock told Brennan she was likely the only person in the entire Jeffersonian. Not only because it was nearly nine, but because it was nearly nine on a Friday night.
Her gaze landed on her cell phone and she picked it up, scrolling through her contacts. She hesitated before hitting the little green button.
Was this really a good idea? She was pretty sure it wasn't, but she made the call anyway.
"Hello?"
"Hey, I'm just leaving the lab." There was a sound of outrage on the other side of the line that made Brennan smile. "Do you want to grab a drink?"
-x-
"Bren, is everything all right?"
"Sure." Brennan stirred the dregs of her vodka sour with a little red straw, giving Angela an innocent look. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, you called me, kind of out of the blue, and asked to go for drinks," Angela explained patiently. "I gotta figure something's up."
"Nothing is up." Brennan's nose wrinkled on the word. "We're friends. I believe meeting a friend for drinks is an acceptable social ritual."
"Oh sweetie, that stopped working on me years ago." Angela patted her arm affectionately. "Now, tell me what's going on."
"Nothing, Ange. Really." Brennan could see that Angela was far from convinced and in truth, she wanted her friend's advice on the whole thing, but she had learned a long time ago that what went on between her and her partner was just theirs. "I'm just … I just … I never cared about going home to an empty apartment before, but now … sometimes, I feel like maybe I do … care, you know."
"You don't want to be alone." Angela's eyes softened. "That's normal, sweetie. There's nothing wrong with that."
"But I am alone," Brennan pointed out in all her blessed pragmatism. "Shouldn't I just accept that? I should be rational and—"
"Oh, Bren, you don't have to accept anything," she quickly interjected. "And you don't always have to be rational either. Sometimes, you have to stop rationalizing and just act, right?" Angela could sense that there was something important in this conversation and her brain whirled trying to get her point across. She didn't know why, but it felt imperative that Brennan understand what she was trying to say. "I mean, think about the invention of something really amazing."
"Oh, like the X-ray."
"Really? The X-ray is … okay, never mind," Angela shook her head. "The point is, what if the person that invented it had never just done it, you know. What if they were too busy thinking about it and had never acted, then something amazing would have never happened."
"Well, the invention of the X-ray was mostly accidental, but I think I understand your point." Brennan smiled the way she always did when she was about to impart what she felt was a particularly important point. "You know, when talking about his work, Roentgen actually said, 'I didn't think, I investigated'."
"And who's that, sweetie?"
"He discovered the X-ray." Brennan frowned in puzzlement. "We were just taking about this, Angela."
"Right, of course. Roentgen." Angela chuckled, but then she said seriously, "At some point, you have to stop thinking and just …"
"Investigate?"
"Yes!" Angela laughed, partly in relief that Brennan seemed to have understood her point. And at the end of the night, when she was hugging her friend goodnight, Angela wondered what exactly Brennan planned on investigating.
-x-
On Saturday night, Brennan actually stood in front of her small television engaging in what Booth called channel surfing. With an annoyed groan, she turned off the screen and threw the remote on the nearest flat surface.
It was too early to actually go to bed, but she knew that heading to the lab and attempting to do some work would be nothing but a waste of time. For just a second, she considered calling Angela again, but almost immediately Brennan discarded the idea. There was no way she would be able to get away with it two nights in a row. Already, she was worrying about how much she had revealed the night before. Brennan kept replaying their discussion in her head, trying to figure out whether anything she'd said could lead Angela to the conclusion that screwing her partner's brains out was at the forefront of her mind. It seemed impossible to Brennan, but with the way Angela's mind worked, it was difficult to be sure.
Stop thinking and investigate.
Except she couldn't stop thinking. Thinking was what she did best. The only problem was, there was only one thing she could think about lately; her partner sliding between her legs and slamming inside her, over and over again.
God. She was on fire, just thinking about it. Choosing the logical course of action, Brennan jumped in the shower, cooling herself down, but when she was done, her body was damp and soft and she still felt ridiculously excited.
With a shrug, the robe she donned getting out of the bathroom pooled at her feet, the soft material gliding down her body like a caress as it fell. Naked, she slid beneath her sheets, her body breaking out in goosebumps as the material touched her bare skin. Without conscious thought, her hand moved between her legs and a low moan broke the silence.
Brennan panted softly, fingers sliding slippery inside her folds. Her breathing quickened in tandem with her strokes and she hovered frustratingly on the edge. Her mind immediately tried to supply her with a visual that made her curse.
"No," she murmured defiantly, unwilling to give in to her rebellious mind. She was going to do this on her own, without letting him interfere. In frustration, she kicked off her sheets and flipped on her stomach.
The weight of her body made the press of her fingers more substantial, making her groan. Her skin was slightly sweaty and the cool air conditioning hit her bare back like a caress. And the moment that happened … Strong, male fingers grabbing her hips … Stop.
Her hips jerked, sinking down into her own fingers. She was very wet, her clit pounding, but she couldn't push herself over. So close, but she needed more. She needed … his body, warm and hard, pressing against her, his fingers digging into her skin as he plunged inside her from behind …
"Damn it." The curse was moaned as she gave in. Sweet relief spread through Brennan, fueled simply by the delicious thought of her partner wrapping his arms around her waist and pounding her, over and over again.
-x-
On Sunday night, Brennan stood in front of a lab table, eyes staring at the remains in front of her unseeing.
Tired of pacing her apartment, she had decided to be productive and go into work, but she had spent the last two hours staring blindly at the bones in front of her. She couldn't remember the last time that work had failed to soothe her. For her, bones always provided an escape. Always. And it irritated her to no end that tonight even work wasn't enough to block out her partner and his … offer.
It was absolutely crazy, wasn't it? What the hell was he thinking? How could she agree to this? How could she not? It was the one line they had never crossed and after all this time, it seemed so dangerous. Oh, but so irresistible.
Her eyes flickered to her wristwatch. It was almost eleven. Instinctively, Brennan knew that once the weekend ended, that would be the end of this insanity. Somehow, she was almost certain that if she just headed home now and went to bed, come Monday, it would be like it never happened. They would never acknowledge the fact that he had offered her sex. Or that she had turned it down. It would be just one more unspoken thing between them. They were good at that. Because for every heart-wrenching honest feeling they had revealed to each other—and they both done that—there was even more that went unspoken.
Go home. Go to bed. Spend another sleepless night, tossing and turning.
"That is completely irrational." With an irritated growl, Brennan snapped off her latex gloves. "I've been offered a solution and I should take advantage of it." Her heart beat erratically as she disposed of the gloves, but she refused to acknowledge the lack of composure.
Determination washed over her as she grabbed her car keys and walked out of the office.
Sex. She needed it and he was willing to give it to her. And the truth was that she just didn't have enough willpower to turn it down.
Sex. They would both go into it with eyes wide open. No need to bring up their past or their past feelings. Just Sex.
She would be sure to remember that.
-x-
Twenty minutes till midnight.
Booth's eyes trailed to the clock hanging on his wall for the hundredth time that night.
Had he been too subtle? Was there any possible way she hadn't understood him?
He snorted in disbelief. No freaking way. She wasn't that clueless. She totally knew what he meant. And clearly of the two of them, she was the only one with any common sense left since it appeared she wasn't showing up.
Oh, well. He wasn't going to take it personally.
Yeah, right. When had ever not taken any of her rejections personally? That's because they are personal, you dumbass. Okay. Enough.
With a shake of his head, Booth rose from his couch. He had spent all weekend agonizing over his not so subtle invitation and it was clearly time to stop. It was probably for the best. After everything that had happened between them, what the hell made him think that he could sex up his partner and just leave it at that?
Really, he should be grateful that her no-show meant they weren't going to open those particular floodgates. Except, he wasn't. Not really. Because the twisted, inescapable truth was that he was freakin' dying to sex up his partner—and had been, pretty much from day one.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Booth was so inside his head, it took him a second to realize someone was knocking on his front door. For a moment, he thought his heart might have actually stopped. But then it was racing all too fast and he had to take a calming breath before going to open the door.
"This is just sex, right?" Brennan pretty much spat the words out and Booth could only blink. For the life of him, he couldn't tell whether she wanted a yes or a no to that question. But at that moment, he might have just told her the sky was green if that was what she wanted to hear.
Instead, he opened the door wider and stepped aside. "You wanna come in, Bones?"
Brennan's eyes narrowed at his mild tone, but she swept inside. Her bravado took a bit of a hit when she realized that she was actually inside his apartment, about to go forward with this. "I guess … I should have made sure that I didn't misinterpret your words on—"
Booth closed the door, leaning back against it. "You didn't misinterpret anything."
"Oh." She swallowed, unsure what to make of his calm, composed attitude. "Right." Her eyes traveled the room, before settling back on his. "Then yes. I would like your … help."
"Just so there are no misunderstandings," he clarified, refusing to have any miscommunication on this matter. "You're here for sex, right? You want it and you want me to give it to you?"
"Yes." Brennan snapped the word out in irritation. Usually, she was a fanatical advocate of accuracy; disliking euphemisms, imprecise terminology, and vague metaphors. But he was way too calm and she was a mess and it irritated her to no end. Not to mention that his to-the-point-clarification reminded her she was weak. So damn weak. Less than two days and she had given in. "Let's just get it over with."
Booth's eyebrows shot up. "I think death row inmates head to their execution with more enthusiasm than that." Not that he doubted his ability to get her damn enthusiastic about the whole thing, but if there was one thing he didn't want tomorrow morning it was regrets. There were already enough regrets between them, fuck if he was going to add this to the list. "Look, Bones … we don't have to do this."
Her eyes widened. "Are you rescinding your offer?"
"What? No." His voice rose in volume and he made an effort to tone it back down. "Look, you just don't seem very sure and if you just want to go home, I understand." She was looking at him as if his words made no sense, so he gave her a reassuring smile. "Or, you know, we can go grab a bite and forget all about it. We don't have to do this."
"You don't want to do this." Her tone was distinctly accusatory. "You're reverse pedaling, aren't you?"
"It's backpedaling, Bones," he corrected in exasperation. "And I'm doing no such thing. I already told you I'm not rescinding anything."
"And I already told you that I want to engage in intercourse with—"
"Fine," he bit out before she could finish the sentence. Booth was certain her word choice was designed to annoy him. The woman could try the patience of a saint, he'd give her that. He eyed her darkly before taking a calming breath.
"Fine," Booth repeated softly, affecting the air of composure she had so effectively disturbed. "You want it, you got it." He was determined that if anyone was going to be off-balance here, it would be her. "Strip, Bones."
Something flashed in her eyes and he was almost certain it was excitement. For one moment, the death grip she had on her keys tightened, but then she dropped them. Without a word, she yanked her shirt off, letting it join her keys on the floor. Her pants went next and then she was just standing there in tiny underwear. It wasn't silky, revealing lingerie by any means, just peach-colored cotton panties with a matching bra. Except that it was Bones in her tiny, peach underwear and he didn't think anything could ever be sexier.
In two steps he was standing in front of her, hands at her waist. He could see the fall and rise of her chest was more pronounced and his own breathing quickened as he slid one hand over her hip, fingers grazing the edge of her panties.
"Booth …" Her hands curled into his T-shirt, her expression almost hesitant and he realized that hesitancy was for him. She was worried for him, concerned about his inability to compartmentalize.
His answer was to slide his hand inside her panties and cup her. "Do you want an orgasm?" The pads of his fingers rubbed her soft folds and he could feel her wetness even though his fingers weren't even inside her yet. "Yes or no?"
They both knew the answer to that question and her concerned expression was being quickly replaced by a healthy dose of irritation. "Answer me, Bones." His voice was husky, but his tone was mild. He could compartmentalize and he would damn well show her. It was impossible not to get good at something that you did on a near daily basis and when it came to compartmentalizing his feelings for her, he was a freaking master.
"Yes," she hissed, legs widening automatically.
His fingers plunged inside her without warning. The first sound out of her mouth was a gasp of surprise, the second a blissful moan. When her head dropped back, he tightened the arm around her waist and drove his fingers faster. Her hands held on to his shoulders, her nails biting into him.
She was so on the edge, it didn't take him very long. He fucked her deep, making sure to press against her clit with every stroke and she erupted. Her body shuddered and she actually cursed when she came, fascinating him. It was strange, but erotic to hear the dirty word escape her pretty lips in a hoarse moan.
Dazed, Brennan dropped her head on his shoulder, catching her breath. She breathed him in, certain that this was the closest one could get to high without the benefit of mind-altering drugs.
When he whispered softly in her ear, "What do you want now, Bones?" she knew there was only one answer.
"Fuck me, Booth." Brennan almost couldn't believe she was asking, but the words dropped raw and hoarse, against his shoulder. "Just fuck me."
"Oh, I will." His hands grabbed her waist, his gaze dark and nearly predatory. "Every fucking where."
