Chapter Two

Olivia woke with the startling realization that she wasn't alone.

She could feel the warm mass of someone's body pressed into her own. Someone's breath drifted softly across her cheek in deep slumber. One hand curled around her chest keeping her body firmly in contact with his. The full length of his torso was pressed to hers, one of his legs entangled between her feet. Olivia felt her body tense for a breath before she felt her companion mumble something in his sleep.

Peter.

Olivia's fuzzy brain remembered getting into the shower much, much earlier that evening after a little too much alcohol on an empty stomach. She'd gotten dizzy and sat down and then just never bothered to get up.

She didn't remember Peter pulling her from the shower but she did remember him toweling her dry and covering her with a blanket. She also remembered requesting he remove his shirt empowered by the alcohol running through her veins. She'd wanted to lay her head on his chest; it was a secret fantasy that would have been ruined by the wet shirt being in her way. He'd obliged though he looked near panicked about it and she'd curled up against him.

She must have fallen asleep like that and at some point in the night have rolled over; Peter having followed her movement even in his sleep was now curled against her back…her naked back.

Olivia realized that at some point in their shifting she'd lost the towel from across her chest, her bare warm back was pressed skin to skin against Peter's chest. What's more the arm curled around her in an almost possessive act was against her bare skin as well, Peters hand almost cupping her breast.

Olivia's breath caught in her throat, and she couldn't stop her flesh from pebbling to attention under Peter's sleeping hand.

God, what had she gotten herself into? This was going to be so much more embarrassing then the time she'd woken him in Walter's office when he was dreaming about her.

Peter's breath remained steady and even, so at least she hadn't woken him yet. Olivia debated the odds of getting out of bed and possibly moving to another country without waking him.

Probably no chance of that, she was just going to have to face the music; this was her own fault after all. She'd been stupid enough to lure him into staying; knowing deep down that he wouldn't refuse her request.

She was such an idiot; she was going to have a hard time looking him in the eye after this.

Then again maybe not.

Olivia was well aware that Peter was attracted to her.

He had made it pretty obvious that he found her attractive from the beginning of their partnership. They'd shared enough heated looks and seemingly innocent touches that had made her face flush and heat pool in places that were not supposed to be affected by your partner.

Olivia may not be bold enough to make a move on Peter in front of the FBI director but here in the quiet silence of her bedroom, with the heat of Peter's body behind her and his soft breath on her neck it was tempting, achingly so to see what would happen if she just let it happen instead of running away.

Peter always pushed her; it was in his nature to push and test until he met a wall. And even when met with an insurmountable object, Peter treated it like a unique puzzle, utilizing that genius mind, he began orchestrating a way over or under that wall.

He'd been slowly tunneling his way under her skin for months now; she wasn't even sure when it had happened, but suddenly Olivia found herself trusting Peter's instincts as much as her own; seeking out his company, wanting to hear his voice at random moments; feeling her breath catch in her throat when he looked at her from across the room like all he wanted to do was devour her.

The same look he'd given her in Walter's office that afternoon.

He'd pushed her than, with the small act of caressing her skin; this was no simple touch; no accidental caress, it was slow and deliberate his eyes burning into hers, heating the blood in her veins with barely a whisper of his skin across hers. She'd felt naked and completely exposed under the searing heat in that look.

He'd advised her to run; but his eyes had sent her a different message; his eyes were hungry; and challenging. They offered heat, and pleasure, they promised a sinful seduction and an addiction that would surely consume her if she wasn't careful.

He was daring her to stay; and she'd chickened out and bolted, still unable to accept that this was more than just a game to him.

He'd worked hard over the next few weeks to keep things light between them; and slowly she'd relaxed again. Fallen back into their comfortable rhythm.

She almost thought he'd given up until she'd catch him from across the room with that look. He'd give her that crooked smile that should be illegal and bore his eyes into hers for just a moment too long, making her flush and her breathing come faster.

Peter had dared her to stay; it was an open invitation and now he was waiting for her to accept it.

Heat pooled low in her belly at just the memory of that look, sending delicious tingles racing along her limbs and skittering across her skin with each breath Peter took. God she wanted him, she knew that she was more than just attracted to him, she was intrigued and fascinated with her partner.

She'd felt an almost gravitational pull towards him since the first time they met. It had started with her eyes, she'd felt them drifting to him at random moments even before she knew if he would stay; she'd felt pulled to him; centered around him.

Like her own personal gravitational well, his unique influence had quickly started acting on all portions of her life; both work and personal. He was firmly entrenching himself deeper and deeper into the very fabric of who she was, little by little effecting how she acted and reacted in turn.

She'd fought it then; hard, telling herself it was just the absence of a male presence in her life; the loneliness, guilt and abandonment she felt after John's death.

But it was so much more then that; it was Peter. She'd tried lamely to see others for a very short and awkward time; but she'd always ended up comparing them to her partner; leaving her more frustrated and isolated.

She'd given up about eight months ago and decided to just take a break from dating; just for now she'd told herself. Since then more and more of her time was consumed with case work and by association; Peter.

It was no coincidence, she thought, that she was always ready at the drop of a hat to flit across the country or across town; she stayed that way at all times. Not just because it was 'the job' and she'd destroyed any social life she might have had; but because it meant she would get to make that call and hear his voice.

She'd give him some quip about an all expense paid trip; or a grand prize and he'd grip about being woken at the ass-end of dawn or in the dead of night and she'd laugh and give him some line about saving the world and paying the bills; or promise to get Walter a flurry at Dairy Queen. Just to hear that grin in his voice through the line.

It was so much easier at those moments; less terrifying to give a bit more of herself over when they weren't face to face; to open up just a bit even if it was about something so trivial as cracking a joke about not being able to solve anything without him.

Much easier to hide her fears and go with what felt right.

When she saw him in person half an hour later; he'd grin at her as he opened the door and she'd smile back her 'Agent' persona already firmly back in place. Safe behind the badge.

But lately she'd felt more than just the slide of her gaze to him. As if his gravitational pull had intensified; or perhaps her own had weakened; she'd felt more drawn to him. She'd felt the need to stand closer to him; to touch him; and the longing for him to touch her, any contact with his skin seemed to send electric currents across her entire surface; rippling out across her until no part of her was unaffected.

She'd found herself aching to be in his company; in the car; in the lab; at his home; she'd stop in just to check on them; make sure they didn't need anything; or do drop off some tiny bit of paperwork or information that could have just have easily been delivered via phone call; but she'd miss seeing that grin on his face when he opened the door for her; and the nonchalant; and at the same time almost nervous way he'd run his fingers through his unruly hair as he held the door open for her ushering her in with the sweep of his arm.

She wouldn't stay long; always some excuse to leave; least she stay and reveal her true intentions. And if Peter guessed them he was polite enough not to say. He'd simply smile at her and ask her if she was sure she couldn't stay; that glint in his eye as he'd lean in just a bit making her breath catch in her throat. She'd nod her head; offer her excuse and bolt for the door before he could charm her right out of her senses.

Olivia took a steadying breath. Here in the dark and peaceful quiet of her own bedroom; perhaps still a bit bolstered by the alcohol from earlier in the night; she didn't feel so afraid. She felt safe; and secure in Peter's embrace.

What if, Olivia pondered, she didn't run from Peter? What then?

She couldn't run forever; eventually one of them would crack. Olivia had always been a take charge kind of girl; except when it came to Peter. He'd made it obvious that he was interested; now she just needed to accept his challenge.

No time like the present. Olivia took a deep steadying breath and began to take more stock in her position. She'd completely lost her towel; she couldn't feel it's soft texture against her body at all; leaving Peter's soft faded jeans as the only barrier between them.

How bold could she really be? Olivia pulled her lower lip between her teeth worrying it back and forth as she decided the best way to proceed. She was more than certain Peter would not turn her down, not with the way things had been between them the last few months.

She was certain he wanted her.

That he had only been waiting for her to give the green light so to speak. Wanting to push her to this conclusion but not drive her there, she'd never been the type of girl to accept that kind of direction anyway; and Peter had known that, and used it to his advantage. Teasing and leading where she was more than willing to follow in her own time, and on her own terms.

So here she was in the driver's seat, Olivia's lips quirked into a smile as she felt Peter's hips against her own, wiggling her hips just a fraction she felt his bodies unconscious though still impressive response against her; even as his breathing stayed steady and even, deep in sleep. Definitely in the driver's seat. Question was, how fast and how far did she want to drive?

Peter's dream could not have been more perfect. His brain it seemed after months of trying had finally managed to capture the feel of her perfectly, her soft skin; her silky hair, even her smell.

Peter inhaled deeply taking in the sweet and alluring scent that was Olivia, and Only Olivia; Trying to pull in her very essence all the way to his toes like a blanket for the senses.

She smelled like the air after a heavy rain, and the sweetly scented brown sugar lotion she occasionally used. Her hair smelt like apples and faintly of some bar soap he couldn't quite classify; she smelled like safety, and intrigue, like danger and perfection all at once.

And the way she was rubbing herself along the length of his body was simply delicious. Almost like a cat's casual stretch her body flexed and arched against him; muscles sliding under silk smooth skin against his own; Peter flexed his arms around her pulling her closer to his chest; fitting her entire length against him; He loved these dreams of her; how perfect they felt; how infinitely right. Peter drew his nose across the hollow of her neck breathing her in and hearing and feeling her breath catch as his lips ghosted across her back.

He never wanted to wake up, he wondered if not for the first time it was possible to make some kind of cocktail in his father's lab that combined with the sensory deprivation chamber would allow him to follow this dream to its conclusion as so rarely happened. Peter wondered if his father would warn him of the potentially obsession he could fall into; of the madness he could become trapped in; Unable to separate reality from dreams. Similar to when Olivia had used the tank to try and access John Scott's memories. It wouldn't matter if Peter was addicted to his dream Olivia; he mused; he was already Addicted to the real one; at least in his dreams he could touch her, he was already going mad.

More often than not Peter would awaken far too soon from his dream realm, reaching for an Olivia that wasn't there. Then he'd lie awake for hours afterward in frustration, cursing himself for letting her slip away too soon.

Many times he gave up after just a few hours of chasing sleep and would go for a run, not just a steady even jog, but a full out run that was both mind numbing and exhilarating at the same time; he would run like the hounds of hell themselves were at his heels; run like he was trying to get to her; run like he could get away from her. Until he was gasping for air, dizzy and near collapse muscles shaking and sweat running in rivulets down his face; even when it was snowing. Then he'd turn and head back towards the home he shared with his Father, at a slower more even and measured pace.

He would always arrive home utterly exhausted and then, sometimes, after a hot shower and a glass of water, sleep would come to him; a dreamless empty tomb of sleep that left him feeling less rested then he had on the return from his run.

Other times he'd return to find Walter rearranging the furniture or his many accessories, or on truly unfortunate occasions attempting to bake something; and Peter would conclude that he had little choice but to accept the start of his day. Least he try to rest and Walter wander from the house or God forbid find the keys Peter kept hidden and attempt to retrieve some tasty treat or another with no money and no license or concept of basic traffic laws.

But this dream, Peter felt her body shift against his again; no this dream was going perfectly and Peter had the sinking suspicion that if he woke from this one too soon he could run to California and back and he would still never sleep again.

Breathing in her scent again Peter allowed his hands to drift across her skin.

Feeling the Goosebumps rise along her arms and her nipples pebble under his fingers, rolling them expertly between the pads of his fingers bringing the soft whisper of his name to her breath.

Peter raised his head to taste the soft skin behind her ear, enjoying the soft catches in her breath and the rock of her hips against his. Using his hands Peter turned her body so she was on her back and began exploring her with his mouth again, his favorite nocturnal pastime, devouring Olivia.

Her soft skin and taut pink nipples under his lips and tongue the catch in her breath and appreciative moan when he allowed his teeth to graze just barely across her flesh before soothing the sting with his tongue; counting every rib with his fingers; discovering every nook and swell she had to possessed; and was offering to his fervent exploration.

Hearing her moan his name and feeling her fingers on his shoulders, in his hair letting him know with her soft touch and gasps where to spend more time, when to slow down, and when to speed up.

Peter took his time exploring the soft globes of her flesh, the smooth planes of her stomach, nipping at her hip, teasing the soft flesh of her inner thigh with his breath, making her whimper and moan, hips rotating towards him in silent invitation before he obliged devouring every inch of her skin. His arms wrapped around her keeping her still for his ministrations hands possessive and yet gentle against her silk smooth skin.

She tasted like heaven, and the way her hips bucked and her breathy voice moaned his name was driving him slowly insane, she hadn't even touched him yet, and he was already worked to a fever pitch.

Just from the taste of her on his tongue, and the smell of her, the sound of her gasping his name, begging him, pleading. A man could spend his entire life questing to satisfy those pleas and not regret a single moment, not one would have been a waste, just to see her like this.

Peter added his fingers to the erotic dance of his tongue across her flesh, pressing them into her, and softly drawing delicate patterns against her slick folds, a few soft rhythms and a flick of his tongue and Olivia shattered under his hands, back arching in a delicious display of skin.

Peter raised his head to watch her bringing his fingers to pump inside her slick trembling folds, heightening and extending her orgasm with expert precision, curling his fingers to just the right spot stroking her once, twice, there, just like that.

God she was beautiful like this, Head thrown back, pale throat and breasts catching the soft moon light, the filtered light through the tree outside her bedroom window leaving dappled patchy patterns across the smooth expanse of her stomach and hips, hands clenched in the bed sheets, she looked possessed, and utterly abandoned of every pretense, this was just Olivia, raw, whole, unfiltered and uncensored.

His Olivia laid out before him for the taking.