A/N: Folx. It's heading for 6am where I am, and I couldn't stop writing until I got this out. You're welcome.
Rating: MA
Spoilers: None
Trigger warnings: voyeurism
Parallels
Not since the Lewis escapade – which was already two-and-a-half years behind her – had Olivia been so tired and conflicted. She and Amanda had been discharged, as expected, by the evening following their rescue, with a handful of meds and the advice to take things slowly until their follow-up in New York.
Liv had driven Amanda to the nearest local restaurant and let her order anything she wanted. They had eaten hot food until their bellies sang with succor, and eventually protest. Neither of them broached the topic of the promise again – not now that things were finally light again.
Afterward, they checked into the hotel that they had originally booked before leaving Manhattan. Their rooms were side by side, with an adjoining door. Without consciously deciding, both women locked their hallway doors and left the adjoining door unlocked. At last, Liv could indulge in the comfort and restoration of a hot shower.
She let the water run overly hot for a minute or so, in an attempt to scald off her guilt and her nerves. Goosebumps rose and then smoothed as she turned under the spray in a tight circle, her arms crossed over her breasts, each hand on its opposite's shoulder.
As her breathing slowed, the quiet, the safety of locked doors and her Glock 19 within safe reach got her mind to stop spinning. As it cleared, her mind turned to the night before Rhoda had entered their unfortunate side-trip. Amanda's smile, lighting up her eyes as she giggled and played the Dukes of Hazzard game with her. The soft crackle of the fire, and their lowered voices, all so far away from the job that had brought them to Michigan.
How long had it been, since she had even been anywhere west of New Jersey? Years? Too long. It was getting hard to even remember a time before she was something other than the job.
Olivia's thoughts slid on to the subject she had been aggressively avoiding since it happened. Her mind and senses summoned up the scent of Amanda's skin, all around her, and the weight of her body, pressing into her cold edges, warming even the rapid thud of her scared heart.
She let out a soft sigh.
The goosebumps returned, encouraged by the sluice of the water over her neck and breasts. Without letting herself rationalize it, she let her hand drift to the juncture of her thighs. She was well on the way to wet, and there was an orgasm coiled inside of her that had been laying in wait for days.
She let out a shocked gasp as the hot water ran out, dousing her in only ice cold. Panting, she grabbed for the taps and twisted them off. She stood there for a beat, letting the warm air in the bathroom envelop her to neutralize the chill. Then she stepped out, dripping, onto the bathmat. She had draped the hotel's complimentary robe over the edge of the counter, and now she shrugged it on, continuing on to the bed.
Stretching out on the bed, her hair wetting the pillowcase, she took a deep breath and refocused on herself. She wished that her fingers on her nipples were Amanda's, that the remembrance of her kisses were actual ones, licking the water from her clavicles. She drove her fingertips into the skin of her inner thighs, drawing her legs up and letting them fall open. The air felt illicit and agonizing against her hard clit and engorged labia, enough to make her grind her ass into the mattress and groan.
No. Wait.
Her eyes snapped open, she sucked in a deep breath as she realized that the groan hadn't been hers. All the blood that had been racing to her lower half reversed direction, causing her stomach to bottom out. Her earlobes burned like she was a child caught stealing from her mother's wallet. Her head came up off the pillow, her eyes sweeping the room in dazed embarrassment. There was no one in the room, of course, except her, but still she remained frozen. So still and so silent that her straining to listen was a rush in her ears.
Then, it came again: a groan, guttural and protracted. The blood in her veins did another 180 as Liv comprehended that it was coming from the other side of the wall. It was coming from Amanda.
"Oh myy Goddd . . . " Olivia exhaled it as a heavy whisper, not willing yet to return the knowledge to the blonde in the next room that she was similarly engaged. As wet as she had already been, her pussy grew even wetter and more swollen at this knowledge she wasn't supposed to have.
More muffled noises crossed the barrier between them, and chills shuddered through Liv at each one. She closed her eyes again, thinking of the moment that Amanda's cool fingertip had slid over her aching clit. In response, she plunged a finger into her pussy, choking back the desperate groan that rose in her throat from the relief.
Drawing the finger back out, she dragged it over her pulsing clit, flicking roughly, her hips writhing. A whimper from Amanda reached her ears and she exhaled in a pant, not realizing she'd been holding her breath again. Liv traded the too-short memories of their touching for an image of Amanda, under the covers in the bed in the next room. She imagined her with one hand shoved into her panties, panting at the thought of Liv doing the same, finger-fucking herself.
"Jesus," she panted softly.
Both hands, now: two fingers filling herself, the other still taking care of her clit. She tried to think of something she wouldn't give, to have Amanda inside of her at that moment.
From the next room, as if reading her mind, Rollins cried out, "God! Liv!"
She orgasmed as if Amanda had beckoned it from her, panting, shaking inside the warmth of the robe as her pelvis bucked at her hands.
Both her arms dropped against the mattress afterward, spread eagled as she worked to catch her breath. She blew an errant, damp wave of hair from her forehead, and pulled the robe closed, drawing a blanket over herself from the foot of the bed.
Before she knew it, Olivia was snoring softly, her face serene.
TBC