Part Four
"Truth or dare?" She really hadn't intended to speak in a low, sultry tone, but when his eyes riveted to hers, almost comically wide, she wondered if maybe she had.
He swallowed hard again. "Truth." There was something in his voice that said he was petrified of any dares she might issue.
She couldn't wait until he was drunk enough to challenge her. Of course, she couldn't wait until she was drunk enough to challenge him either. As he reached for a pretzel, her eyes fell on the tattoo again. If he kept choosing truth, she'd eventually get the whole story out of him.
"You said you knew right away." Nodding at the tattoo, she rolled her beer bottle between her hands. "How soon after you met her did you decide she was worthy of a tattoo?"
His cheeks colored red, though it could easily have been the beer. His head was ducked down when he muttered his response. "I knew the day I met her, I told you that. But I waited a week for this." He lifted his wrist, as though there might be anything else they could possibly be talking about.
She blamed it on the alcohol when she laughed. "A whole week, huh?"
He shook his head as the blush continued to keep down his neck. Definitely not the alcohol causing that. "It was instantaneous. I knew I'd never forget her."
"Then why'd you need a tattoo if you were never going to forget her?"
"Because I wanted to keep her close to me."
That time, she was laughing too hard to even be jealous. "You're fucking kidding me, right?" She could barely spit the words out. The Elliot she knew was just not that romantic or sentimental or silly.
But her laughter had chased away his good mood. "Fuck you, Olivia." He sat back, folded his arms across his chest, and glared at her.
His anger did stop her from laughing, but the glare did nothing to drive his point home. It just made her want him more. He had no idea how hot she found him when he was pissed off. "Sorry." She averted her eyes and sipped her beer. "You just never struck me as a guy who would do that corny shit."
He shrugged. "Now you understand why I didn't tell Kathy."
She met his eyes again. "Because you don't have any tattoos for her." At least that made her feel a bit better, knowing she wasn't the only woman in his life that wasn't indelibly inked onto his skin.
He nodded. "And don't think I didn't notice you sliding in a second question there. Truth or dare?" She opted for truth, fearing another beer chugging would result in her puking on the table. He was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. "Do you have any tattoos?"
"Yes. I have one." She watched as his eyes widened the slightest bit. She knew he'd never imagined that she did and now that he knew, his thoughts were running away with it.
He gulped. "Can I see it?"
She laughed. "No. Truth or dare?"
"Hey, I get two questions!" The idea of her having a secret tattoo had apparently erased his foul mood over her laughing at him.
"You got them. Yes, I have a tattoo and no, you can't see it."
He narrowed his eyes like he wanted to argue, but he didn't. "Fine." Then he smiled. "Dare."
She had not been expecting that. Which was, more than likely, precisely why he'd chosen it. Taking in the crowd around them, which had been growing steadily since they arrived and had since reached claustrophobic levels if one was so inclined, she knew there were a lot of desperate people among them. For the briefest moment, she wondered if one of the women might have too much to drink or leave too late or be there with someone she didn't really know and wind up in their case files. She forced the thought from her mind and turned back to her partner.
"I dare you to kiss one of the women in this bar in the next ten minutes." She didn't bother to look at her watch. She was certain if Elliot tried to kiss anyone, they'd all be willing. Hell, they'd line up around the block for him. Or maybe that was just her desperation talking.
His eyes widened, but only slightly and only for a second. "Not a chance. I don't know any of these women and I have no desire to catch something from one of them."
"I thought you weren't the type to back down from a dare, El. Or are you really just a chicken shit?" She grinned at his discomfort, secretly quite pleased that he wouldn't go kiss some random stranger in front of her.
"Ok, fine. I'll do it." His eyes found hers while he remained completely cool. "But it's going to have to be someone I know."
She was fairly certain her heart was beating so loudly he could hear it across the table. "How many women do you know here?"
"Just the one." He grinned, the lighthearted smile seeming out of place with the dark heat of his stare. In a flash he'd moved around the table, sitting on the seat next to her. "Come here."
She jerked back, just as his hand was moving toward her cheek. Maybe he was serious. Maybe he was calling her bluff. She figured it was better that she back away before he could. It took all of her strength to feign indifference as she pushed at him playfully while she prayed with all of her might that he'd insist. "I didn't mean me."
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "You said one of the women in the bar. I think you fit that description." Regardless of her rebuff, he didn't move, as though he fully intended to go through with his dare no matter what she said.
The idea caused her to shiver quite noticeably.
Which he completely misinterpreted.
He was back on his side of the booth in less than a second, his grip so tight around his beer Olivia was afraid it might shatter in his hand. "So, Olivia, truth or dare?" She couldn't believe he still wanted to play when he was pissed off.
And she really wanted to know if he actually thought she'd let him kiss her, their first kiss, on a dare as a joke in a crowded bar. "Truth."
He was quiet, his fist still closed around the bottle, the veins still jumping out of his neck. Even so, he faked a smile at her. "I need a minute to think."
And then she realized he wasn't mad. He was hurt. And he was trying to pretend that he wasn't because he was embarrassed that he was hurt over her refusing to let him kiss her. She almost squealed with happiness. Except, she realized, that the beer she was steadily draining might have something to do with her optimistic interpretation of Elliot's mood.
"Where do you like to be kissed?"
Clearly he wasn't getting over her slight. She rolled her eyes. "Anywhere besides a crowded bar."
He chuckled, his hands finally loosening from his beer. "I meant on your body. Where on your body do you like to be kissed?"
"Oh." Oh, indeed. Jesus. She was tempted to tell him to try and figure it out. She bit her lip, feeling stupid for feeling embarrassed about anything in front of her partner of so many years. Still, it seemed terribly intimate. And quite possibly a cruel way for him to twist his discomfort back on her.
But it was a game about truth, after all.
Slowly, she raised her hand, drawing her fingers along her neck, behind the curve of her jaw, just under her ear lobe. "Here."
She could have sworn his eyes darkened two shades right before her eyes. He cleared his throat when he looked away.
"You want another drink, Liv?"
"Sure. Decide on your way – truth or dare." And then she took a long swig of her beer.
The crowded bar caused a longer delay, leaving her sitting quietly to finish off her drink. He returned with his hands loaded, two shots in each, and a couple of beer bottles pinned between his arms and his stomach. She reached for the bottles, leaving him to set the shots down. "I'll be right back."
When he returned that time, he had a salt shaker, a bowl of lemon wedges, and a wicked grin.
"You really are trying to get me drunk, aren't you?" Not that she really minded.
He pushed one of the shots in front of her while he picked up one for himself. "If I say yes, will that count as my truth?"
"Not a chance in hell cause I already know the answer." She giggled. Although the universe was humming pleasantly around her, she still felt silly licking her wrist and dousing it with salt. It wasn't silly at all when Elliot did the same, though, and she squirmed in an effort to silence the moan that wanted to escape. She met his eyes, hoping her actions had the same effect on him when she licked the salt. Then she smiled, tapping her little plastic cup against his and downing the shot.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He was starting to feel the alcohol too. "Truth."
Though she was definitely tipsy, his wrist was lying on the table, reminding her she wanted to know about it. "So you said you've had that since Dickie was little, which could have been a lie since your explanation to him was complete bs." She shook her head, trying to remain focused on what she was saying. "Anyway, are you still in touch with her?"
Elliot kept his eyes on the table for a long time, something that Olivia suspected was to keep him from revealing that he was buzzed too. "That part wasn't bs."
Boldly, or rather boldly intoxicated, she reached across the table, her fingers grazing across the design on his wrist. "Look at me." When he finally did, she smiled. "I can't tell if you're lying when you don't look at me."
"That part wasn't bs." He held her eyes, almost daring her to look away when his other hand moved over, trapping her hand against his wrist. "Yeah, I'm still in touch with her." He glanced at their hands, as though checking to make sure they were really sitting there like that, then back up at her. "So, truth or dare?"
His eyes were absolutely mesmerizing on a good day. And on a day where she'd been drinking and he was touching her, doubly so. She swallowed hard and tried to think straight. "Um, uh –" He smiled at her inability to form words, teasing her more by rubbing his fingertips ever so gently against the back of her hand.
It couldn't be real. None of it. Not the flirting, not the touching. She was pretty sure she was dreaming the entire night up. Maybe she'd fallen asleep at her desk. Since it was all imaginary, she figured she might as well enjoy it.
She grinned back. "Truth."
He sat up, slowly pulling his hands away. "Where's the craziest place you've ever had sex."
She'd had sex in quite a few ridiculous places, but the craziest, well, he'd asked and tequila never helped people make good decisions. "The back of a car."
"A car?" He looked like he was about to proclaim he'd been ripped off.
She cut in before he could start. "A squad car."
His protest was silenced completely.
She smirked. "While I was working."
He started to laugh.
But he had yet to hear the zinger. She cocked an eyebrow at him and hoped she wasn't about to give him a heart attack. "With my partner."
She'd never once seen Elliot's face so pale, not even when he'd been shot. She started to regret having been honest. "You ok over there?"
It took a long time before he even blinked, then finally shook his head. "No. I'm definitely not ok."
She shrugged, the buzz keeping the embarrassment from setting in. "You asked."
"I'm not sure I really wanted to know." He ducked his head, repeating the process with the salt before pouring the second shot straight back. He waited for a moment with the lemon wedge in his mouth and then nodded at her remaining shot. "You planning on drinking that?"
She copied his actions up to pouring salt over her wrist. Then she paused, an inkling of good sense popping her drunken bubble. "I'm not sure I should have another. At least not yet." She pushed the cup across the table. "You have it."
He stared at the shot for a long time, so long Olivia wasn't sure he remembered what he meant to do. But then he was reaching out, grabbing her hand, pulling her arm across the table, lifting her wrist to his mouth.
A second later, his tongue was on her, licking the salt from her skin.
He dropped her hand and downed the last shot before she'd quite figured out what the fuck was going on.