A/N: Like it? Love it? Hate it? Leave a comment and let me know what you think of the story so far!
"Liv, what's wrong."
It's more of a statement than anything. It's been two days since he ambushed her in the shower, and she's turned down every one of his advances since.
She's sitting up in bed, her brow furrowed as she closely examines the trashy magazine in her left hand. She's chewing on the earpiece of his thick-rimmed reading glasses—the ones she makes fun of him for, but secretly borrows from time-to-time.
He knows she wears them, but he's never caught her until now.
"Liv…"
"Huh?" She's startled out of her reverie.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh! I'm—um—I'm just trying to find the five differences. Y'see how they put the same photo side by—"
He interrupts. "Yeah—I mean—no. …No, that's not what I meant."
She drops the magazine in her lap and looks down at him.
He's perched himself up on his pillow, facing her.
She gives him a soft smile.
It's usually all the invitation he needs, but he can see there's something weighing on her.
"Liv, if there's something you need to talk to me about, now's as good a time as any."
She stares at him apologetically for a few moments.
"Y'know, you've been acting strange since I brought up this whole baby thing and you won't let me touch you. …Hon, if you're not ready for this, I don't want to put any pressure on you, but you gotta talk to me."
The words barely register in her mind.
In an instant, she's on top of him, pressing kisses to the hollow of his throat. "Mmm…no, baby. It's not that." She smiles, kissing her way down his body, avoiding eye contact, and trying her best to sound unfazed by the accusation.
She's never been one to face her problems head on. She knows she'll have to address this at some point, but for now, she's buying time.
He can tell she's not being entirely forthcoming about her hesitation, but the fact that she's on top of him, sitting low on his hips for the first time in days is such a distraction.
She's halfway down his torso when he moans softly and reaches down to divest her of her panties. She stops abruptly.
She takes her birth control with a swig of tea just before she kisses him goodnight, every evening. Continuing to take it after their decision to start trying would have resulted in the conversation she's trying her damndest to avoid. It's been three days since her last pill.
She looks up at him sheepishly as her fingertips find the waistband of his boxers.
"…I'm on my period," she shrugs. "So I guess it's just you tonight."
"Olivia, I…" He grinds his teeth and tries to get his bearings, but she's made quick work of freeing him from his shorts, humming softly as she works her mouth down around him. God, this woman could try the patience of a saint. The way her tongue swirls over him just at the tip is excruciatingly pleasurable.
"Liv!"
She looks up at him, splaying a hand flat on his abdomen as she uses the other to ease a strap down her shoulder, never taking her mouth from him.
"Christ… Fuck," he grits. He closes his eyes and tries to focus his energy on something other than the way her sudden laughter sends shockwaves straight to his balls. There's no way in hell he's going to be able to stop her once she's naked.
All too well, she knows his weaknesses.
She eases her mouth up and sucks a little harder at the tip, flicking it gently with her tongue. She wraps her hand around him and eases up his body, not breaking eye contact. "This side of two days ago, we were right… about… here," she whispers, as she slowly begins to stroke him.
"I asked you to tell me a fantasy. But if my memory serves me correctly, we never quite got that far, did we… detective?"
Her voice now dripping with sex, she's committed to the distraction.
His face twists into a scowl. "Olivia, stop it!" He just barely manages.
She sits up abruptly, looking every bit as surprised as he is.
"…I can't believe I just did that," he mumbles.
"Me either," she whispers. "Fucker."
She climbs off of him, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, readjusting her nightgown as she slides under the covers. She reaches for the lamp on her bedside table, when his hand covers hers and stops her dead in her tracks.
"No."
She's unbearably still for far too long, before he speaks.
"I call bullshit."
Before the words leave his mouth, she's buried her head in her hands, sobbing quietly.
"Hey, hey… what's this about," he asks softly as he reaches for her. Despite all the years they've known each other, the number of times she's cried in front of him can be counted on one hand.
He wraps her in his arms and presses his lips to the top of her head, nestling his nose in her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of shampoo, as he kisses her gently.
"Tell me," He says gently.
After a long moment, she finally manages to find the words for what she's been tiptoeing around, "I think I made a mistake."
"Baby, what are you talking about? What kind of mistake?"
She chokes back a sob and takes a deep breath, and after a brief pause, she begins.
"It was a long time ago…
