A/N: Due to inbox angst, and my decision to pull a Beyonce, you guys get 2 chapters this week! I know last week kind of left you hanging, so here you are. Love, love your comments! Chapter 3 on Thursday!
The sound of 4 inch heels was all that could be heard as Olivia Pope made her way to her office. Try as she might to shake what had happened the previous night, nothing could rouse her from her fog. Not even Abby as she made her way into Olivia's office, late in hand.
"Hey, when did you get here? I didn't even hear you say good morning," Abby said, eyeing her friend suspiciously.
"About 5 minutes ago," Olivia responded. "Oh, and good morning. Sorry."
Abby stared at Olivia for a long time. "So... I'm going to sit here. Late in hand. When you feel like discussing whatever marathon is running through your head, you can have it."
"Why did we go to that ball?" Olivia blurted out.
"Um..."
"I mean, seriously! I could have had a nice night with Robert, or painted my nails. Went for a run. Anything but an Inaugural Ball."
"Okay, you and I both know that Robert is too soft and puppy-like for you, so please stop using him. You wanted to go to that ball, Liv. You haven't gone out like that in forever."
"I know, it's just..." Olivia paused, getting up to pace the length of her office. She stopped and approached Abby, reaching out for the latte. Abby gladly obliged, smiling.
"Dish." Abby commanded, leaning back in the leather chair.
"He is... Ridiculously hot."
"I noticed."
"Yes, but while you were chatting with baby intern, I was trying to talk to my dad's clients. The problem was his eyes were on me the whole night!"
"Like you minded."
Olivia shuddered remembering the evening.
She watched on as Abby danced happily, twirling circles around everyone on the floor. Smiling absently, she made her way toward the restroom.
"Olivia! There you are," Steven Gattling motioned her over. One of her father's clients, he was not someone she could easily brush off. When she noticed the company he was keeping, she contemplated running for the bathroom. "Have you met the President Grant?"
Fitz regarded her formally, though his lip lick did not escape her. "We have met, and she's quite lovely. Hello again, Olivia."
She wasn't sure who he thought he was fooling, but his eyes gave him away. Whatever emotion he was fighting, he wasn't doing a very good job. "Hello, President Grant. This truly is a lovely shindig." She smiled politely, hoping to mask her arousal.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
"I am."
"You should come to some of our other events," he trailed off, his eyes bright and never leaving hers.
"Uh, I should take this," Steven said, holding out his phone. "It's been a real honor, Mr. President."
"Indeed it has," Fitz said, shaking the man's hand.
"Olivia, tell your father he has a pitbull for a daughter." Steve winked at her, and then he was gone.
Olivia and Fitz stood beside each other, clapping as another song ended. As a new one began, Olivia eyed the bathroom, wondering how to escape this gracefully.
"Ms. Pope, would you care to dance?" Fitz asked her, extending a hand. She eyed him warily, vaguely aware of the cameras going off around her. Finally, she nodded.
Guiding her to a clear spot on the floor, Fitz smoothly pulled her against him, his hand at the small of her back. The tiny sparks that his touch ignited almost sent her crashing into him. Instinctively, she gasped and grabbed at his arm.
"Is this okay?" He murmured in her ear as they slow danced. The baritone of his voice caused her eyes to flutter shut.
"Yes, it's great."
"Great, huh? Well, that's a first."
She blushed in spite of herself. "Oh, Mr. President, what I meant was..."
"That you're surprised at your own reaction?" He said, never speaking above a murmur. She paused, searching for something to say.
Is he reading me in the middle of a camera flooded dance floor?
As if through telepathy, Fitz began lazily circling a finger along her back, causing a tremor neither of them expected. He pulled back for a moment to look at her, his desire evident.
"People are watching," Olivia said in a choked voice. "You should look away."
"And you," Fitz began, his hand slowly, achingly circling her waist, pulling her closer, whispering. "Should learn to let go. Feel what you feel, Olivia. Live." With that, he dipped her unexpectedly, causing her eyes to widen.
As the song ended, he pulled her back up against him smoothly. His eyes smoldering, he slowly slid his hands from around her and down her arms, holding her hands for a brief moment. All she could do was gape at him.
"Honestly, you should come to some of our other events. It would be, dare I say, great to see you again." He gave her a heart-stopping half smile, padded her elbow, and then was gone into a sea of staffers.
Olivia didn't realize where she was until Abby called out.
"Earth to Olivia! What happened?"
Olivia simply smiled. "Can we go on a White House tour?"
The two spent the day making phone calls, faxing documents, and speaking with Congressman Warren's office. There was a list, but with her dad's connections, Olivia and Abby were able to secure a tour for the following Saturday at 10:00 in the morning.
After a relaxing lunch with Abby, Olivia returned to her office to find total chaos. Everyone in the small human resources department that she worked in was hovering around a tv.
"Guys, what's got you so enthralled that no one is..." Olivia trailed off at Abby's shriek and glanced at the tv. On CNN was Olivia, looking like a blushing idiot, dancing with a very interested President Grant. The headline read "Grant's First Dance?" Olivia listened incredulously to the female newscaster.
"I mean, wow! There's obvious chemistry there, Suzanne. Do we have any confirmation as to who this woman is?"
"Well, Gwen, we know that she's not part of the Grant administration in any capacity, and seems to just be a guest at the festivities. Whoever she is, I must say, the president looks smitten. She is one lucky lady."
Olivia began walking lithlessly toward her office. Once inside, she shut the door, her back against it for support. As she inhaled deeply, she calmed instantly, the scent of lillies and gardenias soothing her frayed nerves.
Lillies and gardenias.
Olivia snapped her eyes open, finally seeing the huge floral arrangement on her desk. She groaned, walking over to inspect them. Her eyes immediately landed on the sealed cardstock note. With shaky hands, she grabbed it from its prongs and opened it:
"I dreamt of you. I can't get the scent of your hair, the feel of your skin, out of my mind. I have to see you again. Please plan to attend the next White House tour, this Saturday at 10:00 am. I will be waiting to see you again. Please plan to stay for lunch, on me.
Fitz Grant"
She read the note at least 40 times, trying to understand why her heart was in her throat and her panties soaked. He dreamt of me? Like I dreamt of him? She recalled her dream once more, goosebumps erupting on her now warmed skin. So, he's just going to sign it like he's not the leader of the free world? Okay.
By the time she made her way onto I-95, Olivia had decided that she didn't care, she wanted this man. Damn the consequence, she thought. Jill Scott's voice blared through her Lexus, giving her all the courage she needed.
She was sitting on her couch with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of her favorite Port, trying to get president Fitzgerald Grant's voice out of her mind. The cardstock note, which she had sense to take home, sat on the sofa next to her like a placeholder. The sudden vibration of her cell phone made her jump. The number was unavailable. 'Who would call at this hour anyway?' She thought, answering on the second ring.
"Olivia Pope,"
Silence. But someone was there. She listened, trying to decipher if she should be scared, assume Abby was playing a joke, or...
"Hello, Olivia."
Her eyes closed and her stomach dropped at the same time, her panties drenched almost as if by command, soaking through to the robe she wore.
"Um... Mr..."
"This line is very secure, Olivia."
"Okay. How did you get my number?"
"Good evening to you, as well!" Fitz joked. They both laughed.
"I'm sorry, it's just not everyday that I get a personal call from the president."
"Well, my apologies." Fitz gave pause for an audible low chuckle. "Trust me, had he known that you sounded like this over the phone, he would have called you a long time ago..."
Olivia laughed in spite of the way her head was spinning. She bit at her bottom lip, unsure of how to proceed. The tension was just as bad as it was in person. "Mr. President..."
Fitz moaned low, softly, the effect of her formality the same as it had been in his dreams. Olivia bit back her own desire. "I'm not sure what is happening here, but I..."
"Olivia." He interrupted. He said her name as though he were worshipping her, speaking in soft murmurs. "Olivia... Do you recall when I told you to just feel?"
"This is crazy, I don't..."
"Just feel. Just be here with me. One minute. I'm not the president, and you're not a beautiful, unattainable woman I finally met last night. One minute."
"One minute." She agreed. They settled into a comfortable silence, each thinking of the pull the other had over them. They thought of their torrid desires, their realization that they were together in this moment, and that nothing would ever be the same. They began a similar breathing pattern, a push and pull, each becoming aroused by the sounds of the other.
"Olivia," Fitz started, his voice thick and low with undefined emotion. "I can't tell you what this is. I honestly don't know. All I know is that I... you do something to me. I want this. I want to know you. I want this to go wherever you want it to, however fast or slow you want it to go."
"I'm not used to this."
"Neither am I."
"So, do we just start as friends?"
"Why not? Let's be friends."
"Hmm! I'm friends with the President... So, does that mean that I get special privileges?" She didn't realize the flirty remark until it was out of her mouth. Flushing a deep crimson, she covered her lips.
Fitz chuckled huskily. "What kind of privileges would you like, sweet baby?" He answered darkly. Olivia slid into the couch, unable to escape the throbbing between her thighs.
"Don't shy away now," Fitz continued, his resolve renewed. "No, I have wanted you since I first saw your sexy silhouette and your adorable smile. Do you remember?"
Olivia sat on the other end, incredulous. Again, he had taken her by surprise. The smooth baritone of his murmured voice washed over her in crashing waves, each word as intense as foreplay. When she didn't respond, he continued. "That's right, sweet baby. Feel what you feel. I remember. I remember you showing up at the White House a year ago, October 15th. You were wearing this mind blowingly sexy red dress. My God, I wanted to pin you against a wall in the residence and show you then how much I wanted you. "
Olivia moaned softly, her voice shaky.
"Yes, Livvie. Feel with me. And then you show up at the Inaugural Ball looking like a Grecian goddess... and we danced. I could feel the hardness of your nipples against my chest, but I had to restrain myself. Cameras, you know."
Livvie. She liked it. The more he talked and revealed, the more turned on she got.
"As if that wasn't enough, you tormented my dreams." He said hotly.
"You were in mine, too." She finally responded, her voice breathless.
"Was I? Was I good, sweet baby? Because if I was half as good in that dream as you felt in mine..."
"You were incredible. I've never been so turned on in my life," She murmured.
"Then or now?" He challenged. She felt too hot. Her robe was too tight. She realized that she had to do something to ease the delicious pain.
"Mr. President..."
"We're far past formalities. Fitz."
"Fitz..." she breathed.
"Damn, Olivia... what are you doing to me?" He crooned. "Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?"
She paused. She knew that once they took this step, there was no going back.
"Tell me," she murmured. "Tell me what you want."
Fitz laughed lightly, setting her core on fire. "My God, if I could show you..."
She moaned low, finding her hands grasping at the couch cushions.
"I want to come to your house. I want to spend an hour looking into your eyes and commiting them to memory. I want to kiss you, everywhere, until you beg me to undress you." His voice lowered to a near whisper. "And then..." Fitz hummed approvingly at his own daydream.
"Yes," Olivia spat out to her own surprise. "Yes, and then?"
"And then... I want to make you cry my name so loudly, so many times, that it's the last thing you say before you pass out from pleasure."
She couldn't take anymore. Her body and mind on fire, her panties and robe drenched, all she could do was whimper.
"Yes, sweet baby. What do you need?" He murmured.
"I need... I need you. Now." She choked out.
"Good girl. Open the door."
She paused. She whipped around frantically, facing the door. "What do you mean? No one is here. You're not at..."
She was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.