...
The Library:
"Fuck me at The Library, up against the stacks..."
...
"This is a really – oh! – bad idea..." Olivia said huskily as clever fingers squeezed the crotch of her jeans, swirling around the single button, pushing it back and forth through the loop that kept it in place.
I should have known something was up when Alex said she wanted to go to the library... I've unleashed a monster, she thought as she stared into the wicked, unrelenting blue eyes of her girlfriend. I coaxed this part of her out, and things are never going to be normal again.
"Christ, woman, we're in the library. There are children here." Olivia tried, she really did, to move her own hand on top of Alex's and stop the soft, insistent stroking, the firm squeezes, but her arms just wouldn't cooperate. Instead, they clutched at the edge of the wooden table they were sitting at in a death grip.
Alex ignored her, turning back to the book – some sort of con law treatise – spread open on the table in front of her, continuing to massage Olivia's heat through the rough denim. "If you're so concerned about being seen," she said, keeping her eyes on the page, "cover my hand with your jacket, because it's not moving."
Knowing that arguing with Alex was useless, Olivia grabbed her jacket, which was draped over the back of her chair, and set it on top of her lap. "I hate you," Olivia muttered, squeezing her legs tight and trapping Alex's fingers to try and halt the attorney's progress.
Unwilling to be put aside so easily, Alex gave Olivia's inner thigh a firm pinch. The detective yelped, causing several nearby people to look at her. A bespectacled librarian – and they were not sexy spectacles like the ones Alex wore – glared at her, putting her finger to her lips in the universal sign for silence. She grinned sheepishly and bent down over her paperwork, which she had brought with her to keep her occupied while Alex browsed the stacks. Unfortunately, Alex had found something much more interesting to open than a new historical fiction novel or yet another of her beloved presidential biographies.
"I just thought we were here for the atmosphere," Olivia muttered sulkily, trying valiantly to ignore the hand that was slowly undoing her zipper. "I knew you liked libraries, but I didn't know you liked fucking in them."
Alex, whose eyes were still carefully trained on the book lying on the table in front of her, slid her hand into the open fly of Olivia's jeans, the smallest smile twitching at the corners of her lips as she felt her lover's very obvious reaction to her teasing. "You seem to be enjoying yourself, Liv."
"That's your fault, and I'm not enjoyi-iiing myself," Olivia lied, extending the vowel as Alex's fingertips crept beneath her bikini cut panties. "Alex, take me home if you want to continue this. Don't you remember what happened with Elliot?"
"He got over it."
"He's a red-blooded male. He probably still d-dreams about it. At least the poor guy warned us an- and he walked away to let us get dressssed... Alex, please..."
"Please what, honey?" Alex said, barely mouthing the words, finally glancing up at the brunette's face to enjoy her tortured expression. Her fingers were coated in Olivia, and so it was easy for her to slide one finger inside, despite the constriction of her jeans...
"Stop..."
Alex used her free hand to turn the page of her book, which had very small print and far too many long Latin words (not that she was really reading them anyway). "No one's looking, Olivia. The bald man over there is practically falling asleep in his newspaper, the redheaded mother and her child went to the check-out desk three minutes ago, and if that old lady with the coke bottle glasses on a chain catches us, it'll be the most exiting thing that ever happened in her life, I'll bet."
Realizing that Alex was going to finish what she started, Olivia resigned herself to her fate and picked up her pen, pretending to look busy. At this rate, it wouldn't be long before Alex got what she wanted from her, anyway. She was actually doing Munch a favor and going over the rap sheet of his niece's latest loser boyfriend – which was a relief, since there was no way she would let Alex touch her while doing paperwork on a sexual assault. Thinking about Munch effectively took the edge off of her arousal, allowing her to continue reading the sheet.
Prior records... prior records... grand theft auto, breaking and entering... entering – another subtle thrust inside of her – dammit Alex!
A lazy thumb began to draw circles over the hard little bundle of nerves, rubbing against the wet fabric of her underwear. Alex's fingers knew just where to stroke, exactly how much pressure to use, the perfect way to flick the tip of her...
One more pinch was all it took to send Olivia flying over the edge.
"Oh!" she gasped, unable to swallow the exclamation in time. The elderly librarian made another 'shhh' noise at her, brows lowering beneath the frames of her thick glasses. "Oh... so that's the address for..." she improvised, looking down frantically at the sheet, "Mr. Thrush... I didn't – know he... lived in... Manhattan...?"
The librarian looked at her strangely, and Olivia realized that she was making absolutely no sense. There was nothing to do but bang her head against the table. Damn, damn, damn. She supposed she should take some responsibility for her own humiliation – you were the one that encouraged her to be more adventurous, Olivia – but right now, she definitely felt like blaming her girlfriend.
Calmly, Alex withdrew her hand from Olivia's underwear, closing her jeans (the detective was sure every person in the entire library could hear the loud 'zzzzip'). Looking completely at ease, she slid two wet fingers between her lips, sucking on them briefly before using them to turn the page of her book.