Undercover Days Chapter 10
Warning, still sexually explicit and I don't think that's going to change.
Disclaimer: They are not mine but I love them anyway.
A/N: Thanks to everyone for sticking with this story, I really appreciate your reading my work and as always comments are welcomed and greatly appreciated!
Olivia feels the hot water rush over her sensitized skin. Everything feels raw; some spots stinging where his mouth and body have left their mark. She's still throbbing from her orgasm and tiny shudders pulse randomly within her. She sighs deeply and stretches against the satisfying ache that echoes in all her muscles. In her head she's screaming from the panic that tries to consume her. She has never had this much sex in such a short time. She would like to think it's because she never stayed around anyone long enough but she knows the truth. She has never wanted anyone like this. The water feels good pounding into her muscles. She's hoping it pounds some sense into her. When she was in Oregon everything became so clear. She had spent hours thinking about the things that really mattered to her and what she really wanted out of her life. She forgot to work out what to do if she got them.
As if on cue Elliot steps into the bathroom. The rush of cool air from his entrance swirls around her legs before the steam settles back against her. The tension is seeping out of her and she imagines it swirling down the drain at her feet. In its place a heavy exhaustion fills her limbs. She leans back against him and slips her hands along the hard muscles of his thighs. He shifts his weight and they flex and push against her hands. She leans her head back against his shoulder and he feels her let go and relax into him. He rocks slightly back and forth in a motion of comfort that years of parenting have worn into him.
She wonders what it is some people have in them that makes it possible for them to love someone forever. She worries that she won't be able to continue loving him, that love is like some chemical your body produces and she's genetically short. Obviously neither of her parents had been capable of a real relationship so her chances of inheriting it were nonexistent. When she tries to picture her life with him five years from now nothing comes to her. Of course when she tries to picture her life without him five years from now nothing comes to her either. Maybe along with her shortcomings in the emotional department she's also missing the ability to visualize any kind of future. Her eyes have slipped closed and his arms tighten around her.
"Liv, if we're going to nap we probably shouldn't try to do it standing up in the shower." She feels the rumble of his chuckle vibrate through her and she smiles. Maybe she won't need to have enough love, maybe he'll just fill her up with it everyday and it'll be enough. Her head feels too full, too heavy now for all of this.
"Mmmm, you're right. Maybe we should take a nap before desert. It's not like we're on anyone's schedule but our own." She turns in his arms and kisses his chest before stepping back from him and finishing her hair.
He wants to ask her how long they'll be on their own schedule but the words stay tucked within him. If the thoughts scare him, he knows releasing them will terrify her. He watches her long fingers work through her hair, takes in the sight of her slender neck and the smooth slope of caramel flesh leading to her pointed breasts. At moments like this he can't believe he's here with her, naked and talking as though this has always been the rhythm of their lives. He washes himself but his eyes never really leave her. He commits to memory the curve of her breast, the line of her waist where it drops to her hips and the exact tone of her warm inviting skin. He trades places with her, letting the water rinse over him and jumping just slightly when he feels her hand on his waist.
"Turn around and I'll do your back." He smiles at her phrasing and turns obediently, stepping back slightly so he's out of the spray of water.
She can't derail her thoughts from how solid he is every time she touches him. Smoothing her soapy hands over the expanse of his shoulders she's in awe. His skin is soft and pliant under her fingers but even in his relaxed state she can feel the hard bundled power of him just beneath the surface. She lets her fingertips bounce over the line of his spine, stopping as she comes to his rather magnificent ass. She smiles as his dimples deepen while he clenches and tightens his muscles under her touch. She moves her hands over him in expanding circles making sure she covers every inch of him. She massages her fingertips into the muscles just above his shoulder blades and works his tension spots with the heel of her palm. He's beautiful in a way she knows he doesn't understand and she enjoys just allowing herself to touch him like this. Dragging her nails lightly up and down the length of him she hears his soft moan and chuckles warmly.
He turns around as her hands pull away. It's too much for her, this life that's suddenly hers and she really has no idea how to handle it. She tries to push the thoughts from her head and live within the moment. It was the life mantra of the group she was with in Oregon, live within the moment but take action to protect the future. She draws a deep breath of hot moist air and seeing that Elliot has finished she turns off the water. Her thighs ache as she steps over the side of the tub and she smiles.
"Let's get into some comfortable clothes and snuggle down on the couch. I'm sure there's something mind numbing on television." She turns around laughing at him.
"Did you seriously just use the word snuggle with me?" His deep laugh fills the small space clinging to the humidity and hovering in the air. She'd like to wrap it around herself.
"Yeah, I said snuggle, somehow I thought asking you to sit next to me so I could feel you up wouldn't sound as appealing." She arches her brow and cocks her head.
"Well you missed that call because I would have jumped at that offer." She rises on her toes and kisses him softly. "Either way we end up on the sofa together, right?" She winks at him and is already walking out of the room when he recovers.
"Damn." He smiles and trails after her, thoroughly enjoying the view.
He goes to the laundry basket now sitting in the corner of her room and pulls out some sweats. Even as she watches him part of her brain is trying to negotiate around his presence in her bedroom. His very naked presence in her bedroom. Fear crawls over her as she once again thinks of all the ways this could go wrong. His body arches as he pulls up his pants and she stills as the muscles in his back ripple with the movement. All these years he has been beside her in the world and here he is in all his naked glory. Now that she's here she can't imagine how she went so long without touching him. She drops her towel and pulls on a pair of shorts and a tank top. The dryer running has left the apartment warmer than usual.
She runs her hand through her hair and considers cutting it short. She hasn't had to maintain long hair for almost a decade and she had forgotten how annoying it could be. She walks into the bathroom and starts brushing it out when Elliot appears behind her. He smiles and takes the brush from her hand.
"Hey, what're you doing?" She's more surprised than anything. He takes her hand and leads her to the sofa where he sits and then tugs her hand to have her sit between his legs. She closes her eyes and tips her chin up just a bit. She hears him chuckle behind her.
"What's funny?" She fights the thought that he's laughing at her.
"I just half expected you to tell me you aren't twelve years old or to snag the brush and hit me with it." She should be angry but she knows his perception of her is right. She changed while she was away. Her instinct is to shut down, to keep her experiences to herself but she can't be that way with him. At least she can't if they're going to stand any kind of a chance with each other. He brushes her hair as they sit in silence for a moment. He can tell she's thinking about something so he waits.
"In Oregon there was a girl that I got to know. She seemed like a run away and I had the feeling she joined the group for the safe place to sleep and steady meals more than any real conviction. She told me her name was Sarah but I knew that wasn't right. She said she was 19 but I would put her a few years younger. She had the look El, that hollow wounded look that our victims always have." She pauses and he slides his fingers through the strands and starts to massage her scalp. She tips her head forward causing her hair to curtain her face and sighs softly. "When we would sit in a circle at night for meetings or just to talk, she was always uncomfortable. She was always braiding someone's hair to keep busy. When mine got long enough she started to ask me, so I let her. It was oddly soothing. I hadn't had anyone braid or brush my hair since I was very little." She falls quiet again and he knows her mind is skipping through her past. "I took notes on everything I knew about her so I could look her up when I got back to work. If anyone is out there looking for her she doesn't want them to find her. I'm sure where ever she really came from the environment was highly abusive. I'd like to find a way to help her though. She was the reason I let my hair grow, so she could braid it while I talked to her." He slides his hands down and begins to work the muscles of her neck with his strong hands and she moans softly from the easy pleasure of it.
"Tell me what you remember about her." He likes hearing her talk about Oregon and the things she did while she was there. The more he knows the less their time apart seems to matter.
"She's bright; she has a quiet intelligence that you'd like. She has a great smile although you don't get to see it very often. She's just a genuinely good person with a good heart and if she stays out there the world is just going to eat her up. She doesn't trust easily. She's from Kansas, she couldn't hide the accent anyway but she's vague about the town. What ever happened when she grew up gives her nightmares bad enough to propel her from bed to take midnight strolls. She's hyper reactive to any quick movements and just as aware whenever you approach her. When she did sit to talk it was always with her arms crossed and legs drawn up in full defensive posture. So far she's looked after herself out there but it's a matter of time before that group disbands and she'll have no where to go." She moans as his hands manipulate the muscles next to her spine, working their way back up to her neck. Her hair is still damp at her neck where his fingertips circle her hairline. He stops rubbing and brushes her hair out one more time before pulling her back against his chest and wrapping his arms around her.
"We should check the missing persons and run away files from Kansas. We don't want to send her back to a bad situation but maybe there's someone there that wants to help her. Maybe there's a grandmother or someone she cared about that's worried about her. If not we could at least try to get her to come here so we can help her get a job or take some classes. We have a lot of contacts here that could help us with finding her a place to live and getting her on her feet." His voice is filled with that parental concern he uses when talking about his children.
"You'd want to help me with this?" It amazes her that he cares about this girl because she does. For him life is that simple.
"Of course I would. I like your hair long so I at least owe her a thank you." To prove his point he grabs a fist full of her hair and turns her head so he can kiss her. His tongue dances and teases her before he tilts her head for a deeper taste of her. When he stops for air his eyes are dark and serious. "If you think there's a kid out there that can be saved, or course I'm in."
She loves him so completely at moments like this and yet it still surprises her when it wells up within her. She wonders how many of these moments she would have to string together to buy them a lifetime.
"Thank you." She wishes she could give him more than these words but she doesn't know what it would be. Other women out there would know. They would know what to give to a man that is so openly offering something to them. The only thing she ever saw her mother give anyone was her body. She pulls away from him and climbs next to him instead. He lifts his arm and she tucks herself against him, pulling the blanket over them both as she settles herself. He clicks on the television and starts flipping channels. She wonders how long it will be before he needs those things she doesn't know how to give. She pushes down the panic within her once again. Every fiber of her body is screaming for her to get up and away from him. To get some air. To take a walk. To run.
He feels her body tense beside him and knows that some demon is racing through her head wreaking havoc. He resists the urge to tighten his arm around her and instead just keeps flipping through the channels looking for something that will entertain them both.
"Tell about one of the cases you worked while I was gone." It hits him then that they're filling in the pieces and she would like to help him like she would have if she had been here. A small part of him flashes anger because she wasn't here and that was her choice. She leans her weight back against him and the scent of her hair fills him. As quickly as the anger materialized, it dissipates. This is all that matters now, he can't drag their past around with him all the time.
"Okay, let me think for a minute about where I should start." He's stalling because it occurs to him that all the cases are going to involve Dani and he really doesn't want to talk about her. He starts out slowly and decides not to mention her by name. "We had a case that hit close to home. We picked up a homeless guy in the rape and murder of a ten year old girl and her mother. It turned out the guy was Munch's uncle Andrew. He's mentally ill and had been off his medication but he wasn't our guy. The mistake we made was letting Uncle Andrew hang out in the precinct with us and since he had been involved he had questions about the case. He ended up doing our perp because he thought it was the right thing to do. He thought it was what we wanted when we thought the guy was going to get away with it. He ended up going into a facility but he made the decision to stop taking his meds which would send him back into that endless state of oblivion. Munch tried to act like he was all right with it but we all knew it was tearing him up. He stills goes up to see him every couple of weeks so you'll see him leave early."
Her thoughts bounce all over the place while he's talking. It all starts out badly because every time he says we, she knows he's referring to Dani. She was his partner at the time. When he mentions Munch's uncle her chest tightens with how much she has missed all the guys at the squad. They are everything she knows of safety and family dysfunction outside of her mother. Then he says that they made a mistake by letting Munch's uncle hang out and ask questions. She knows none of the guys would ever have casually given information to anyone. It has to have been Dani. She isn't sure if he's protecting Dani by not blaming her or if he's trying to protect her by not mentioning Dani. Either way she doesn't like it. In the end the situation cost Munch as well as his uncle so much it makes her angry on behalf of her friends.
"Elliot, who was it that spoke to Munch's uncle? Who gave him too much information?" She already knows the answer but she wants to hear him say it. She wants to hear how he says it. She feels him drop his head and she almost feels badly for backing him into a corner. Almost.
"It was Dani, she just became too involved with the victims. She would sympathize until she was functioning like the victim instead of being someone that helped them. In the end she just couldn't do the job. I don't want it to be uncomfortable when her name comes up, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."
"Why would I be? You were attracted to her, weren't you?" She knows she's pushing it but she'd like to understand. She doesn't want to hold things against him that are just in her head.
"No, not like you think. She was hard to talk to; she always gave either one word answers or short cryptic ones that you didn't understand. It was clear she was still mourning her husband and that she had become lost in the pain of that loss. It didn't take me long to realize she was never going to be able to make catching the perp her priority. For her it would always be a sense of failure over not being able to help the victims." Knowing he hadn't really answered her question he took a calming breath and continued. "One night I walked her to her car and I just kissed her. It was an impulse move, not something I thought about or longed to do or any of that stuff. It was just one moment and I immediately knew it was all wrong. I was never going to be her dead husband and she was never going to be you. It never happened again." He waits, holding his breath to see how she's going to react.
"You don't have to be afraid to mention her name. I know she was your partner while I was gone and it's going to come up in conversation. I can handle that but I wouldn't handle it very well if I thought it was nothing and then found out differently." He pulls away from her suddenly and turns so he's looking her in the eyes.
"I wouldn't lie to you Olivia, you know that."
"Not even if you thought you were protecting me?" They look at each other for a long time before he responds.
"No, not even to protect you, especially not now that we've come this far. I wouldn't do anything to mess this up. It was hard being someone else's partner. You and I moved together without discussing it and we approached things in the same way, with the same thinking. I wasn't used to having to constantly communicate what I thought we should do next or who would enter a building first. It was strange. It was a constant reminder that you weren't here with me." She can hear the pain in his voice this time and she realizes that this wound is still too new to be poking around in it.
"I'm sorry El, I wasn't thinking about that part of it when I left." She feels better and she knows it's because the one thing she's sure of in her life is how to be his partner. She'd be lying if she said she was upset that it didn't work out for them.
"All that matters is that your back and we've managed to move past our partnership and our friendship to this." He leans forward and kisses her gently. Even the light touch from him stirs a fluttering in her belly. She wonders how long it will be before his kiss no longer feels so new. His hand caresses lightly down her arm and goose bumps rise in the wake of his touch. He eases her down onto the cushions with a grin spreading on his face. He jerks the pillows from behind him so he can stay stretched out on his side next to her. The remote long forgotten the channel ends up staying on some old gangster movie. Olivia is only vaguely aware of the distant rat-a-tat-tat that was supposed to be a machine gun in its day. His mouth closes over hers, more hungry than gentle now. His tongue sweeps through her mouth and then recedes enough for him to suck her lower lip between his own. His hand moves slowly over her tank top, his fingertips dragging across the swell of her breast. Her body arches toward him and her head tilts back as his lips leave a hot wet trail down her neck. He pauses at the curve of her shoulder where the skin is already dark from his earlier attention and smoothes his tongue over the tender spot. He nips along her collar bone and bites a little harder on the soft flesh of her shoulder before moving back to her neck. Her hands are sliding over his arms through the ridges, her fingers pressing into the firm planes of him. She cradles the back of his head in her palm when his mouth jumps to her ear and his tongue and warm breath tease her until chills tighten her nipples to hard points. His hand dances over her breasts in even strokes that lead to but never touch her nipples. She's humming a low moan from the back of her throat and her hips twist up off the sofa to try and press into him.
She tugs at his shirt and tries to get her hand inside his sweats but he grabs her wrist and moves her hand above her head. Just as she's about to protest his lips close tightly over her nipple and suckle hard against the thin cotton of her top, she cries out instead.
He moves to the edge of her top and runs his tongue along the exposed strip of skin. Her hips wreath up toward him and he pokes his tongue in and out of her belly button in response. "I thought you were tired."
"So, I'll nap in a little while." Her voice is broken and breathy and his fingers skim up and down the inside of her thighs. He pushes the top of her shorts down and nips at her hip bone. Her body is growing hotter and wetter every time his mouth touches her. Her fingertips press into his scalp as she tries to guide him but he turns his head quickly and catches her palm against his mouth. He sucks her palm and then takes her first two fingers into his mouth. His tongue strokes along her fingers, slipping down them and flicking rapidly over the tender piece of flesh between them. She lifts her head to watch him, amazed at the flood of moisture that she feels surge between her legs from the sight and feel of him. He releases her hand and looks at her while he pushes her shorts down and she kicks them off her legs. She sits up enough to peel her top over her head and then watches the grin spread across his face.
"Wait, Liv don't move." Before she can answer he pushes up and stretches over her and off the couch. She's mumbling what the fuck as he returns shaking a can of whipped cream and smiling from ear to ear.
"It's time for my desert." She chuckles softly and relaxes back against the cushions. Elliot pops the lid and sprays onto her breast. She yelps as the first puff of cool foam lands against her skin.
"It's cold." He just keeps smiling, looking like he can barely contain himself. He sprays some more down the front of her body, ending between her legs. She lifts her head and looks down; it takes her a second to realize that he has written the word mine down the front of her. She rolls her eyes and starts laughing in that deep throaty way that he has so recently learned and that makes him crazy. She's sure he would have put Elliot's if he could have made it fit.
"There, just like a sundae with a cherry on top." As the last word leaves his mouth she bursts into laughter, building until she's almost hysterical.
Although he finds the trembling of her body and the shaking of her breasts incredibly sexy, Elliot is almost offended. His letters are starting to melt and threatening to run off her sides. Her hand covers her face as she tries to compose herself but she can't seem to pull it together.
"Uh Liv, I'm not that funny." He strokes her side before the cream drips and licks his finger. She tries to catch her breath still gasping as she speaks.
"I'm sorry Elliot, I am. It's just that when you said it was like a sundae with a cherry on top all I could think of was an old joke; I no longer have my cherry but I still have the box it came in. It just struck me as funny." Elliot's low rumble of laughter erupts from him and for a moment they just laugh until they're gasping for air. It seems like as much of a gift to him as the sex, all this rich deep laughter after all these years. The room fills with the sound of it bouncing and echoing around and still he can hardly believe it. She's lying naked on the sofa with the word mine melting off her while he kneels on the floor next to her fully clothed and…laughing. He can't remember the last time he felt this good. The whipped cream starts to drip again and he drops his head and catches it with his tongue. He hears her gasp and the laughter dies down so he continues moving his mouth up and across her belly. As his lips descend on her nipple her moan returns.
He's still smiling as he licks the sweet cream from her belly, his lips sucking along the line of her ribs. He slides the edge of his teeth along the underside of her breast and feels her breathing shift, slow. His tongue traces the curve of her and then circles her nipple slowly, scooping the whipped cream into his mouth. His lips close over her tight bud and he hears her gasp. No more laughing now. He follows the trail to her other breast, his mouth moving in hunger once again. His hand strokes the inside of her thigh and her legs automatically spread at his touch. He lifts her leg over his shoulder and tugs her gently to the edge of the cushion. She watches him shake the can and then reach up and point it over her lips.
"Open up." She opens her mouth and he squirts some on her tongue but it sprays onto her lips. She closes her mouth, moaning and slowly licking her lips. His dick is twitching it's so hard. He's sure if he just rubs himself a little against the side of the sofa he could come. His eyes travel from her parted mouth down the sticky path to where her leg lifts over his shoulder. She's exposed to him, pink and glistening with wet anticipation. Forget the sofa, he may come just looking at her. He sprays a line between her parted lips and her hips lift off the cushion. He tosses the can to the floor and drops his mouth on her. He licks and sucks the sweet mix of cream and her juices as though his life depends on him getting every drop. His hand moves up and captures her nipple and he begins to pinch in a rhythm opposing the thrusting of his tongue inside her. Her moan has dropped to a low pitched mewing sound, her heel is digging into his back as she tries to rock up against his searing mouth. His other hand moves between her legs, his thumb pushing inside her and rubbing circles on the most sensitive spot. His hand and mouth are wet with her and he can tell from the trembling in her thighs and the jumping of the muscles in her abdomen that she's close. He closes his lips over her clit, slips the tip of his finger into her anus. He begins pulsing his thumb and finger inside her, sucking hard on her clit and tugging the nipple in his other hand. It's too much; she can't follow all the sensations at once. Her body is wreathing and climbing, her toes curling in an effort to hang on. A burning current shoots from place to place within her until she thinks she's going to scream from the sheer driving pleasure of it all. Then it's on her in one blazing shattering moment. She slams up against his mouth, her foot shoving against his back as she arches up with the aching screaming force of it racing through her. He holds on to her as her body contracts around him, shuddering and gripping in the rolling peaks. He rides out every second of it with her. Her breasts are heaving with the effort of getting air so he watches and waits. The muscles of her stomach quiver and rest as the last of the tremors move within her. When her body calms her hand comes to rest on her abdomen.
"I'm sticky." Her voice is breathy as she gasps, still trying to slow her breathing. He chuckles warmly along her thigh where his head now rests. He sticks out his tongue and licks the edge of her slit and she jumps.
"Yes, you are, sticky sweet." She can feel him grinning and she laughs herself. Her body is aching from the intensity of the orgasm after all the day's activities. All the laughing and the sex have worn her out. She never would have predicted this day in her life, never would have even dreamt of it.
"I need to wipe myself off but I do have to stand first." He slides onto the floor so he's sitting and watches her grab her shirt and shorts on the way to the bathroom. Even after this day he can't take his eyes off her ass. There has to be something wrong with him. He pulls himself back onto the sofa and stretches out; retrieving the remote he's flipping channels when she reappears back in her clothes. Smiling and shaking her head she stops to return the can of whipped cream to the fridge. She comes over and he raises his arm so she lies down next to him high on the arm of the couch. He rests his head on the soft pillow between her shoulder and her breast more content than he knew he could be.
She scratches her fingers through his short hair as he lies against her. She wonders when they're going to stop this craziness and how they'll ever return to their lives. She closes her eyes and rests her head. His arm is possessively wrapped around her hips. She smiles thinking about the night, knowing she's drifting off to sleep and not caring.
"El, remember earlier when we said we were going to make decisions one at a time?" She can tell by his breathing he's falling asleep himself.
"Yeah." His voice is rough and groggy.
"Well, I've made a decision and I think I should share it."
Opening his eyes he's immediately wide awake. "What?" He lifts his head to look at her.
"I'm never getting rid of this couch." Her deadpan expression only holds for a few seconds.
"I second that." The laughter comes again, their bodies vibrating against each other and he thinks the sound of it feels like a miracle.