Treasure
He was being driven crazy absolutely crazy. How had he lasted this long without being able to tell her how he felt? Well, to be fair a lot had happened. The team had broken up twice. For safety purposes, and Sophie had "died".
In a fit of pent up sexual frustration over not fucking her he had banged a fellow female hitter. It'd been a nice night but nothing like he'd envisioned with Parker. Each of them had thanked each other for the pleasure and agreed to look each other up if needs were not being met.
He'd also been so close to blowing up at Hardison and how he saw him getting closer and closer to making a move towards his Parker. He'd about given up holding back when he saw her at the funeral. That black number she'd worn had him getting pretty close to knocking one out at a cemetery in his car.
Speaking of said car she was there now, at this very moment, in one of the skimpiest numbers she'd ever worn . A pink number that for the love of god was riding itself up as she placed her feet, free of the gold heels, on his dash. Most cases, even the hottest of women, had done this he'd be sure to push them off. But not her, not at this moment.
His protective side of her was also upset at Hardison for "noble" reasons. It made him infuriated and agitated that Hardison had been taking credit for all of Parker's conquests. Knowing exactly what she had stolen made him yearn for her more if it was possible even more than before. Stealing the shit she stole was extremely arousing. If she and him were together he'd never take credit from her.
Earlier that week he'd had to push her away from him on the couch. She'd been so close he was afraid she'd have him grabbing her closely burrowing his nose in her neck. El- not now, focus on the woman sitting right by you.
The angel she was sitting in gave him a perfect view. The best view he'd ever gotten of her. He'd been present when she'd changed in the elevator years ago, but this now paled in comparison.
She didn't wear underwear, his breath hitched as he tried to multi-task properly given the scenario. He'd rather not crash. But God he just wanted nothing more at that moment than to reach his free hand and get to work.
He would begin to gently tease her outer folds. Just long enough to get a guttural melody from the woman adorned in pink.
Her free hand would slither its way towards his pants. Those gifted fingers would have trouble pulling the zipper down as he started to push his finger deeper in her tunnel. Reaching the end of her sweet tight core he'd give small flicks.
Eventually though, she'd be able to pull the zipper down. Releasing his thick hardness out of its cell, she would take it into her fingers and grip. At first, the grip would be soft like a breeze, a wonderful gesture to let him just focus on her wonderful pussy clamping down on his finger.
He'd hope for as few fellow drivers near them because her face would be undeniably that of a woman in heat and feeling pleasure. He'd love to take quick glances at her pleasured face. There was also a hint of possessiveness to that too. Where he to make her like that he'd want nobody else to catch a glimpse.
Once she regained herself she would tighten her grip on him. The grip as well as the pace she would have been pumping him long and hard. Helping her with her quest to obtain the same reaction was the soft purr of his engine.
"Eliot," she'd whimper as he was still deep in her. The mouth then would lunge forward to help assist her lips would be as red as his shirt at that moment.
By this point that poor hand would have grown tired with all the energy and enthusiasm it had been giving him. He was so close, that when her lips finally engulfed him he'd put the pedal to metal and speed down the highway.
"Parker,, babe, plese, please," he'd now be her toy, her practice safe. He'd beg her to help him get there. So close, so close. It would have been truly careless but he'd want to reach over for a minute, put his lips to hers and chant her name into her own mouth as she finally got him to a wonderful sense of fulfillment.
DAMNIT HARDISON!
His sweet precious fantasy was ruined upon learning that the hacker had over sold it to fucking Russians of all people. Now, instead of maybe confessing in this one prime opportunity to Parker, that he'd been wanting nothing more than to bang the ever living shit out of her, he'd have to rescue the hacker. From Russians. Emphasis on the Russian part.
Nate stressed getting over to the condo as soon as possible. He needed help figuring out how to reach Hardison and how to access important files.
Hardisons' only saving grace in this moment was that Parker had to change. And he knew that she rarely wore undergarments. He probably would try his best in that moment to be a gentleman emphasis on the try.
AN Notes: Sorry this took so long it has taken me awhile to write more chapters. I have like up to the end of season three but I want to be a certain number of chapters ahead as to not hit a wall. Hoping to get to season 5 at least by the time the Leverage 2.0 comes out. Thanks for all the likes it means a lot to me.