AN: Twice in one night! Let's hope Elliot gets that lucky.
THE DEAL - PART 2
She was a third of the way through her Jack and Coke when he slips the glass from her grasp.
Her eyes flit up to his in question and when he doesn't explain she starts to move towards it.
"I'm thirsty," she whispers, her voice low, her breasts pressing intimately into his bicep in her pursuit.
"Order a water," he hisses, completely ignoring her bodily infraction as he continues to physically block her from the glass.
She doesn't back away, she doesn't take her body off his and he gives her a look as if to say she should know better than to drink on the job.
She glances away, her eyes moving to the mirrored bar and he keeps his stare on her profile, their whole interaction occurring in hushed tones and subtle movements, as they do their best to avoid the microphones taped to their bodies.
"Olivia," he warns, but it's no longer the drink he's worried about, it's her bodies proximity and the fact that he is hard beneath the lip of the bar. She finally pulls back, her breasts lifting off his arm, her eyes settling on his and it's the first time she's really looked at him since he had his mouth and hands on her.
He sees a whole wealth of conflict there, but for the most part it's completely overridden by desire.
He has a lot to say to her in that moment but he's bound by microphones, Fin's prying eyes and their perp's imminent return.
Fin's voice returns suddenly but she doesn't drop her gaze from his when he speaks.
"Morris is at the elevators - take the stairs, there's a back alley on Clifton Street. Bring your A game."
He pushes off the bar, seizing her hand in his and leading them towards the elevators, then it's seconds before her heels are clanking down the staircase behind him.
He presses against the metal bar on the lower level and they spill out onto the street, the cool night air filling his lungs as he intertwines their fingers once more and tugs her towards the alley in question.
A small crowd of smokers line the front of the bar as the music seeps out onto the street and he gets them a few steps into the back alley, but not too far that they're hindered from view.
He moves her up against the wall, his chest pounding, his body still aching as her soft eyes look up at his.
He takes her in, there is heat in her cheeks, her exhales expelling rapidly against the cool air, her cleavage rising and falling beneath his peripherals.
Her lips are still rosy and she is giving him a look like - 'go - now, what are you waiting for?'
He is waiting for Fin's command but soon realises Fin no longer has eyes on them.
They're entirely alone.
No squad.
He has her all to himself.
And he has permission.
Bring your A game.
He cups her cheek and seizes her lips without another thought and he feels her respond immediately, her mouth opening to his. He takes a half step forward until her back is flattening against brick. He moves his hand off her cheek until it's cupping her hip, holding her steadily against the wall as he ransacks her mouth. It's different from the bar, there is no hesitation with her now, no bravado from him, it's just lips sucking, breaths intermingling - a silent agreement that they're both just going to take.
His fingers dig into her body and her mouth opens further to him and damn it, he wants another taste of her so badly.
There are no moans yet, no tongues - this could all still be purely for show but when she moves a hand through the back of his cropped hair and draws his body closer, he takes the opportunity to press himself firmly between her legs because he needs her to know this is more than just a cover.
Her eyes pinch closed as a throaty moan escapes and his heart hammers in response because fuck - he's not going to be able to hold back with her.
Not when she's already this receptive.
His hand moves back to cup her cheek, his forearm purposefully pressing up against her breast and when he steps even closer his erection settles flush up against her thigh. She whimpers and welcomes it - parting her mouth before he clamps down on her lower lip and sucks. Her nails sink into the back of his neck and he gives in in that moment, sliding his tongue firmly in to meet with hers. A throaty hum emanates and she's already flitting her tongue across the tip of his in response.
He groans, his forearm is still pressed up against her breast, but his palm is aching for direct contact.
He slips his hand down her cheek, the rough pads of his fingers trailing down the expanse of her throat until he stops just below her collarbone. He loiters absently just waiting and she's breathless against his mouth when she says it.
"You can touch."
His lower half pangs at the permission, waiting only a few beats before his entire palm closes over her breast.
He groans against her forehead.
Fuck.
He fills her hand and then some.
He squeezes her gently and she arches into his palm.
This wasn't for show.
This entire thing was for him.
For them.
He can feel lace through the thin slinky material and she is dragging his mouth back to hers as her thumb swipes across the back of his neck.
He hesitates mere millimetres from her lips before he says it.
"What is this Liv?" he whispers quietly, low enough that it won't be picked up on the microphone because he wants her to say it.
He wants her to tell him what this really is.
"Bringing our A game," she mouthes before pressing her thigh firmly against his erection.
He groans.
Bullshit.
His palm moves up to brick and he groans against her forehead as she continues to rub her thigh against the tip of his cock. He grasps her cheek, holding her in place as he nips and sucks at her neck, disbelief emanating that she is trying to get him off right here in the middle of a goddamned alley.
What the hell is happening?
Where the fuck is Fin?
Where is the perp?
He is borderline rock hard now and he moves his hand between her legs without thinking, grasping her inner thigh and holding her against the wall, intent on stopping her in motion.
She makes a sound, part shock - part desire but he doesn't remove his hand.
She is breathing heavily now and he is staring at her, chocolate pools, mirroring a whole wealth of confessions he's waited years to hear.
He doesn't know where the hell their squad is, but this is all they've been told to do.
To put on a show.
To bring their A game.
He feels her legs part just slightly beneath her short dress, his hand involuntarily slipping a little higher.
His forehead knocks hers, because he is so close to touching her now - he can practically feel the heat emanating from her panties.
His chest is rising and falling in union with hers and as he scrapes his lips across her damp mouth she says the words that send him officially over the edge.
"You can touch," she whispers hotly.
TBC