I feel terrible, but I absolutely cannot remember the author of the fic I reference in this chapter. I read it on tumblr and it was a Barba/reader fic, and if anyone can point me in the right direction I'd appreciate it.

Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Pizza with Sonny

Olivia picked up her wine glass and took a sip, shaking her head and trying not to laugh. "No, Sara, I told you: I'm not interested!"

"Okay, then mind if I have a go? Because I've been doing some more Googling…"

"Oh God," Olivia said. "You fuckin' snoop."

"Shit yeah. And it's not snoopy. You're being stalked, babe. It's my job as your best friend to check out everyone new in your life."

"Including a Manhattan ADA?"

"Especially a Manhattan ADA. Lawyers, man." In her own apartment, Sara took a long drink of wine and grinned at Olivia. "Okay, wanna know what I found?"

She sighed, glaring at her friend through the FaceTime connection, and at last nodded. "Lay it on me, worry wart."

"It's good shit. Look, apparently he's got some, like…following on the internet. Manhattan's Sexiest ADA and shit.

The messaging program on Olivia's computer binged several times as Sara's links poured in. She clicked the first one and burst out laughing. "Oh my God! This is…Sara, this is porn!"

"Not just porn, o friend of mine: porn specifically focusing on his hands. There's also sites dedicated entirely to his clothes. There's one where the blogger is super interested in being choked by either his ties, his belt, or his suspenders. It is a dirty, dirty online world, and apparently Rafael Barba is a dirty, dirty boy—at least in fantasy."

Olivia clicked on an entry and stared in fascination. She couldn't imagine fussy, uptight Rafael Barba…doing this stuff. Or…Jesus, saying this stuff! Some of it in Spanish, which was admittedly very sexy. Thanks to her work at the gallery, Olivia spoke four languages, three of them fluently, and she'd never been sure if that had helped or hindered her life-long language kink.

"Holy shit," she whispered as she read one about imagining "Barba spanking you for the first time." There was spanking, of course, and a belt strangling scene….

"Wow."

Sara giggled and jabbed a finger toward her webcam. "Look at you! You're blushing! You're blushing over ADA porn!"

She quickly clicked out of the tab and gulped down the rest of her wine. "I am not. I've just had too much to drink."

"You've had like two glasses." Sara sighed and ran a hand through her dark hair. "How long's it been since you got laid?"

"Ugh. I don't wanna even think about it. Way too long."

"You should. It'll help with your stress levels."

Olivia shifted and poured the last of the bottle into her glass. "I'd rather not get anyone involved in my life right now. Detective Carisi suggested—"

"Detective Carisi," Sara said with a grin. "Now there's a cutie! Long and skinny. With dimples. You know he came by to question me the other day? Wish he'd stayed longer. Questioned a little harder."

"Don't. Start. God you're incorrigible."

Sara laughed again, completely unrepentant, and changed the subject back. "Barba was really that bad huh?"

"I think he's one of those guys who thinks he's hot shit because he went to Harvard. I mean, Jesus, I went to Harvard too." In fact, Olivia had a BFA and MFA in Art History from NYU and an MBA from Harvard. One does not brave the cut throat art scene of New York City without having one's bonafides securely intact.

"Like it's hard?" Sara said.

"Honestly," Olivia said with a brief smile. "Fuck, I should go. It's almost eight and Baloo and I are starving."

"Feed the beast, baby girl. Then go get laid," Sara said with a wink.

"Go live your vicarious lawyer fantasies through someone else. I'm busy." She didn't bother to say goodbye; they never did; and instead disconnected to the sound of Sara's laughter.

Olivia sat for a moment, indecisive. Baloo, having heard his name, rubbed against her legs. She gave him an absent-minded pat on the head as she furtively clicked one of the links Sara had sent. She wanted to read more about spanking and belts….

She remembered the case he referenced, vaguely. Headlines about the new Manhattan ADA and his splashy court theatrics. She hadn't connected those stories to the man she went out with the other night, but now, reading this, it clicked into place.

What didn't click—couldn't possibly click—was the idea of Barba acting anything like the man the writer depicted. No way, no how. He probably liked sex missionary, with the lights off, both of you partially clothed.

"Uptight son of a bitch," she muttered, sipping wine as she clicked to another story by the same writer.

She was in way too deep when the buzzer startled her so hard she almost spilled wine all over her laptop. She'd read several stories by that author and had moved on to others she recommended and now Olivia found herself…well, horny, to be frank, and appalled that it was inspired by goddamn Rafael Barba of all the insufferable assholes on the island of Manhattan.

Sara was right: she needed to get laid.

The buzzer went again and Olivia glared at it. Who the fuck was at her door this time of night? It was almost nine. She just wanted food, her vibrator, and sleep. Possibly not in that order.

Grumbling the whole way, Olivia stomped to the intercom and pressed the button. "Yes?"

"Pizza!"

She frowned, her heartbeat kicking up a notch or two. "Um, I didn't order any pizza. You've got the wrong address."

There was a pause, then a sheepish voice she recognized. "It's, uh, Detective Carisi. I thought—I got off work and was thinking about pizza, and I thought…sorry, I know it's late, and I didn't mean to scare you…"

Terrible idea. Don't do it, Gable. Say no. Send cute, long, skinny Detective Carisi home like a good boy.

"Come on up, Detective," she said. "I was just about to forage in my kitchen anyway."

She opened another bottle of wine (also a bad idea) and poured out two glasses. At the last minute she remembered to click out of the tabs she'd been browsing and, for good measure, scrub her internet history. She never wanted anyone to know what she'd been doing for the last hour.

Her doorbell rang a few minutes later, and she answered it with a smile. Carisi presented the pizza like an offering. "Goat cheese, olives, fresh mozz, and salami, per your request."

She took it from him, set it on the table, and tugged him inside by the tie.

His bright eyes widened in surprise, and she couldn't help but giggle at the expression. "Be honest, Detective: you didn't really come here for pizza, did you?"

"I like pizza," he said without much conviction.

"So do I. But honestly it's been a really long week, and I could stand to blow off some steam. You aren't married are you? Or in an otherwise committed and monogamous relationship?"

"Huh?" He blinked. "Oh. No, I'm single."

"Gay?" she said, though if he were then she would need to get her head examined, because he was definitely flirting with her in her office this afternoon.

"Nooo…I like women…"

"Okay then," she said. She still had his tie wrapped around her hand, and now she used it to drag him closer. She went up on her toes and kissed him, warm and firm.

He was so surprised he wasn't sure how to react. Kiss her back? Push her away? He was the one who'd shown up at her apartment like this. After their encounter at the gallery, surely this was exactly what he'd been looking for.

She pulled away, suddenly uncertain. "Detective? Did I—am I completely off base here? Because I really thought…" She trailed off, biting her lip. "It just seemed like, this afternoon…and now you're here…"

"Yeah, no…" He shook his head. A wayward curl fell across his forehead and she had to fight the urge to push it back. He gently untangled his tie from her grip. "I definitely—shit, Olivia. Yeah, I'm interested. Very interested. Just, you know. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be kissin' you."

"But you are here," she said, her eyes steady on his. She took a step closer, tilting her chin up further so she wouldn't drop his gaze. "You're here," she murmured. "There's gotta be a reason."

Carisi blew out a long breath and reached for her. His hands hovered, not quite touching, and he cursed. "If my lieutenant found out…"

Lifting a brow, she rested her arms on his shoulders. "I won't tell her if you won't. It'll be our little secret." She drifted closer still, until he could feel her warm, wine-scented breath along his cheek. "Our dirty little secret," she whispered.

That pushed nearly every button he had, and with a groan he gripped her hips and dragged her against him so that their bodies pressed flush together. Her arms tightened around his neck and he kissed her, rough and careless.

She grabbed his tie again and used it to drag him with her to the couch. Once they were there she loosened it and he pulled it over his head. His vest was next, though she regretted seeing it go; those tailored little vests of his were sexy as hell. She ran her hands up his chest, exploring his slender body through the material of his shirt. He felt…solid. Warm and good. She wanted that right now. Needed it.

He cupped her face in his hand and smiled enough to show his dimples. She kissed one, grinning, and his smile deepened. "You sure about this?" he said.

"Absolutely sure, Detective," she said. She grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head. Underneath she was braless, and she enjoyed watching his eyes go wide and starry.

"Holy shit," he breathed. "Holy goddamn shit."

"Nice mouth on you, altar boy," she said with a giggle.

He grunted, running his hand between her breasts and bending to kiss each peachy nipple. "Been a long time since I was an altar boy."

"Good. Right now I'm looking for a sinner, not a saint."

Smirking, he lifted her off her feet and kissed her, his tongue hot and demanding, his lips soft and sweet. "You're gonna get what you want, doll," he rasped between hungry kisses. "I promise."

She moaned softly, her fingers raking through his hair and trailing down the back of his neck. He could feel her nipples, hard against his chest, and he needed his clothes off, now. He set her on the couch, and she looked up at him with big, eager eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"You gonna strip for me, sweet boy?" she purred.

"I won't ruin this by tryin' to dance. You'd kick me out in a heartbeat."

She reached for his belt, her lower lip caught between her teeth, and slowly undid the buckle. "I'm not kicking you out any time soon, sugar. You made me a promise."

He shrugged out of his shirt and she pushed his pants down to find him hard and straining against his boxer briefs. Licking her lips, she let her eyes trail down the silhouetted length of him, then glanced up with a wicked grin.

"Bad boy," she said. "Hard for me already? I've barely touched you."

He blushed, his chin dropping to his chest. "It's, uh. It's been a while. And you're—fuck, baby, you're pushin' my buttons!"

"Mmmm. Good to know." She lapped at him through the cotton of his shorts, and he let out a surprised little yelp.

"Fuck!" he breathed. "Shit, babe, that's—don't do that!"

"No?" she said. "You seem to like it. Take these shorts off and I'll do so much more."

"Not yet," he said. He dropped to his knees and dragged her closer, one hand fisting in her hair and the other pressed to curve of her ass. Her knees bracketed his ribs and for a long time they kissed, the heat and hunger growing as hands stroked skin and the rest of their clothes fell away.

She scooted back on the couch, beckoning him to follow her, but he hesitated. "Hang on, I think I got a condom…"

"I have some in the bedroom if you don't," she said. She petted the curve of his back as he bent to dig through his pants pockets.

"I change it out every month. I mean—I don't use it every month—just I change it out, because latex can break down in warm conditions, and in a pocket—it's a good condom. That's what I'm sayin'."

Her mouth twitched with amusement and she let him ramble. God he was so fucking cute she could hardly stand it. "I have an IUD," she finally said. "I trust you and your Boy Scout condom ways."

"Eagle Scout, actually," he said, puffing out his chest a little. "I organized the restoration of a big homeless shelter on Staten Island as my Eagle project."

She tickled his tummy and ran her nails lightly up his chest. "Of course you did. Sweet boy."

He blushed again, delighting her, and knelt between her knees. "I wanna—I wanna make you feel good, Olivia," he said, dipping to kiss her. "Wanna make you come so hard, pretty little bird."

She moaned against his mouth. His lips left hers to skate down the column of her throat; along the curve of her shoulder. His tongue skimmed her collarbones before his kisses turned rougher and more possessive. He found the dark freckle near her left nipple and he sucked it, hard, leaving a hot red mark when he moved on.

"Not where anyone can see," she breathed.

"I got you, doll. Don't worry."

He worked her tits with his lips and tongue and the bare scrape of his teeth. Soon her nipples felt swollen and tingly, her breasts achy, and she needed more. "Please, Sonny!" she said, her voice low and breathless. "Please!"

With a soft grin he moved back up to kiss her some more, and his hand slowly drifted down her belly. When his fingers brushed her lips they both gasped. "So fuckin' wet, baby," he rasped. "Is that all for me?"

Blocking out any memory of ADA porn and her earlier need for release, she nodded. "Every drop, sweet boy. Need you so bad."

His fingers slipped between her swollen lips to brush her clit. Slid down to her entrance and back again, over and over, until her hips rocked with every stroke and she moaned his name. "Fuck, don't tease me, don't tease!" she cried.

He pulled his hand away and sucked a finger into his mouth. Groaned at the taste, then offered her the other one. She licked it with a soft tongue, her eyes on his as she did. She loved watching his pupils get big as she swirled her tongue around his finger and slowly sucked it between her lips.

"Holy shit," he said in a strangled gasp. He took his hand back and fumbled for the condom, ripping the package and rolling it up the length of his cock.

She bit her lip in anticipation and reached for him, pulling him on top of her and wrapping her legs around him. He tugged them higher, so that her knees were almost to his shoulders, and pressed himself against her.

They were both panting, flushed, and his teasing had left her right on the brink. His eyes held hers and his forehead was crinkled with the intensity of his concentration when he slowly, slowly slid into her.

"Oh God!" she breathed, yanking him down for more kisses. He obliged, moaning, and ran his hands up and down her body. She loved the feel of them: big and gentle, with long, slender fingers and soft palms.

"Fuck me!" she whimpered in his ear. "Please, Sonny, fuck me! Don't go easy!"

He pulled back almost to the tip and thrust in again, harder this time. She nipped at his shoulder, an appeal for more, and with a grin he gave it to her: hard, deep thrusts, in a slow, driving rhythm that made her crazy.

"Sonny!" she whined. "Please! Faster, god, faster!"

"Not yet," he panted. "Not yet, baby doll." He tangled a hand in her hair to hold her head still as he kissed her, bit her full lower lip and moved on to lick and suck along her jaw. "Feel so fuckin' good," he said. "Taste so good. Pretty little red bird. Gonna fuck you so nice, sweetheart."

"Yeah!" she said. "Yeah, yes, please!"

Her voice was high and shaky, breathless and desperate, and he wanted to keep teasing her…but he couldn't. She felt too good, hot and wet and eager for him, and as his willpower dissolved he began to fuck her in earnest, exactly like she begged him to do.

"Sonny! Fuck, yes, fuck, like that!"

"Call me Detective," he growled, fucking her even harder, faster, so goddamn deep she shuddered with every thrust.

"Detective!" she moaned. "Detective Carisi, fuck, you feel so good, don't stop, don't stop! Love your cock, your hands, your mouth!" Her thighs were shaking and the low flame in her belly had become a full-on bonfire. She was so fucking close she could taste it.

"Yeah, yes, like that, fuck, goddamn, baby doll, fuck you're so sweet, so fuckin' hot!" He dropped rough, artless kisses wherever his mouth could reach. His hips snapped against her while hers rose to meet him every time.

"Yes!" she cried. "Oh fuck yes pleasepleaseYES!" She trembled beneath him, her cunt squeezing him tight as the orgasm rolled through her. She came hard, suddenly, and he didn't let up.

"Good, baby?" he grunted. "That feel good? Tell me, little bird. Tell me how good I make you feel."

"So fucking good, Detective! My hero, sweet boy, fuck, New York City's finest don't stop, don't stop!"

"Oh Christ," he mumbled. "Oh Jesus."

"Bad little altar boy," she breathed in his ear. "Dirty little Detective Carisi. You came all the way down here just to fuck me. Just to get a taste of my sweet pussy. Didn't you?"

He gave a long, wordless groan and buried his face in the curve of her shoulder. His thrusts turned sloppy, his pace stuttering. She dug her nails into his back and that tiny prick of pain took him over the edge. She whispered filthy encouragement in his ear the whole time, and when he finally fell still they were both boneless and breathless.

"Holy. Shit," he eventually managed between gasps.

Her laugh turned into a soft moan as he pulled out and tied off the condom. She already missed the weight of his lean body on top of hers, and the feel of him deep inside. There was a low, warm ache in her belly that made her wiggle with pleasure. She sat up and planted a kiss on his shoulder, then soothed the scratch marks on his back with a soft tongue.

He turned to her with a grin and wrapped his arm around her. "Was that…okay?" he said, his tone sweet and hesitant.

"More than okay, sugar," she said. "I had no idea you were such a bad little boy underneath that perfectly-tailored suit."

Another one of those adorable blushes. "I guess maybe I didn't either. I think you bring it out in me."

"Oops. Slutty temptress strikes again."

He kissed her nose. Her forehead. "I guess I was easily tempted. You're smart. Sexy."

"And you're my brave Detective Carisi," she murmured. "Slaying all my dragons, like the big, bad hero you are."

"Jesus, don't start that again. I need some down time."

She giggled. "Just seeing if it worked every time."

"Yeah, I guess so. Shit."

Smirking, she fell back onto the couch and stretched like a lazy, satisfied cat. "Go grab that pizza, Eagle Scout. You've helped me work up one hell of an appetite."

He leaned down to kiss first her mouth, then her nipple. "You eat the pizza, princess, and I'll eat you. How's that sound?"

"Such a good boy," she said, stroking his cheek. "I love the way you think."