Summary: Elliot and Olivia finally go out on a date.

AN: Sorry it took longer to update than before. I ran into some serious writer's block and changed direction with this chapter at least three times. I hope you enjoy this version.

I initially planned only four chapters and to keep the story rated "T." But then I thought, what's the fun in that?

If you don't like M/E rated stories, then consider this one complete. As for the rest of you lemon-lovers, the next chapter will be a continuation of their after date activities. Pancakes anyone?

Their upcoming date loomed so heavy over their evening calls that by Tuesday Olivia suggested that they not talk on the phone the rest of the week so they "save their stories for Friday." Elliot agreed, even though he knew the real reason she made the request was because they were both being so awkward. They'd never been like this, not even in their first calls. They were fumbling over their words and struggling to find a conversation topic or flow. They were so unsure of themselves now that Elliot finally asked her out on an official date.

They'd slowly come to terms with their friendship over the summer. For the most part they were returning to a safe place, back to a friendship they'd had before. And they'd been able to navigate their new, PG- rated physical boundaries fairly easily. They both knew that their connection was there and that they had a desire to pursue more. But now, it was out in the open and they had a plan to act on those feelings. It was uncomfortable sitting in this new place, waiting for their date.

It only took until Thursday night for Elliot to call her. He said it was "just to confirm their plans for tomorrow." But he really just wanted to hear her voice and assure himself that she'd really agreed to go out with him, that he hadn't dreamed this whole thing up.

"You have a sitter, right?" He asks for the third time.

"Yes El," she answers exasperatedly, "I told you Monday, and again on Tuesday, that Amanda agreed to watch Noah on Friday."

"Ugh," he groans, "Rollins hates me."

"She doesn't hate you. She's not your number one fan," Olivia admits, "but she's on board with this."

"Yea?" Elliot asks in disbelief. All of his interactions with Rollins at SVU have been curt and tense. He didn't blame her. He knew that Olivia really struggled after he left, and that Rollins was one of the people to bear the brunt of Olivia's anguish. He also knew that over the last decade there was a mutual respect between the women and they'd really grown to be friends. He needed Rollins to at least tolerate him.

"Did I not tell you about her advice?" Olivia teases, knowing that she'd not told Elliot about this particular conversation, not feeling that it was appropriate before. Now, however, that they were no longer dancing around the elephant that was their mutual attraction and desire for more, she thinks it's a great time to let him know that Rollins fully supports her Captain's efforts to get some.

"No, you didn't. What was it?"

"Well, it was actually her mother's advice. But she told me that you and I need to get a hotel room," Olivia says, letting her voice drop on the last few words.

"A hotel room? Are we traveling?" He asks dumbly, clearly not expecting Rollins and Olivia to be discussing Olivia's sex life.

"No, El, like the saying: get a room ," she clarifies.

He chuckles on the other end when he understands the meaning, "Now that's some advice."

"Changing our reservations for tomorrow?" Olivia jokes.

"Umm, let me think…" he taps his finger on his chin, even though she can't see him through the phone. For some reason, they'd implicitly agreed to keep their calls to voice only throughout the summer and had not yet braved FaceTime calls. "Nah, I'm good with dinner."

"Good man," she scoffs a laugh, surprised with the ease that she felt discussing these things with him. "What time is the reservation? I can meet you there."

"No, absolutely not."

"Wha–"

"We are not meeting there. This is a date, Liv," he tells her, as if the word holds all the answers. And for him, it does.

"I know it's a date, El. But it doesn't make sense for you to drive to my place–"

"Stop, just stop," he interrupts again, "I will come to your place, knock on your door, walk you down to my car, open the door, and so on. It's a date and you are getting 'date' treatment my friend."

"Okay, okay," she surrenders, with a yawn. She guesses he is right. This is an actual dinner date, not meeting for coffee. And Elliot would want to do things more traditionally.

"Reservation is for 7:45. Will that give you enough time after work?"

"Yea, it should be enough time."

"Good, good. Well, I should let you go. I already broke our 'no calls' rules."

"Good night, El."

"Sweet dreams."

Elliot stands in his room in his sock and briefs, looking in the mirror above his dresser. He takes stock of his features. His eyes are as blue as ever, but they are surrounded by countless more laugh lines. His face is clean shaven, how he usually keeps it. He enjoyed having a beard for a while. He liked the tougher, rougher look and the attention it brought him. But when he saw himself with a beard now, he saw Eddie Ashes, not Elliot Stabler. And he needs to let Eddie go. Plus, Olivia didn't seem to appreciate his beard when she saw it.

His head was shaved too. When he'd first arrived back in the States, he'd let it grow out short all over. But when he tried growing it again after coming out from undercover, he noticed how much lighter the hair was and he wasn't quite ready to accept a head of wispy gray. He'd much rather just shave it off.

He knows, despite his receding hairline and ever bushy eyebrows, that he's always been a conventionally attractive man. Women have been drawn to his smile, his bright blue eyes, and more recently, his muscular stature. But he's never given much consideration as to whether Olivia thought he was attractive.

When they were partners, there was always chemistry between them. They were drawn to one another immediately and developed a solid partnership and friendship. But they had to deny, repress any physical connection or desire. She'd never really indicated that she thought he was good looking. Of course, he was only human, though. He'd always thought Olivia was beautiful. And seeing her again after a decade hadn't changed that. She was gorgeous, even when she had been yelling at him, commanding him, or trying to help him find his way through one of the toughest years of his life.

He makes a note to ask Olivia what she likes, or at least to pay more attention so maybe he can figure it out on his own.

Turning from his mirror he nervously flips through the clothes in his closet. He tries on at least five versions of this same shirt, different colors and fabrics, rolling and unrolling his sleeves, with a tie, without a tie, tucked and untucked. The restaurant is too casual for a tie, he thinks. Eventually he settles for dark wash jeans with a light blue shirt, untucked, and the top buttons undone, then he walks out of his room.

Kathleen and Bernie are in the kitchen working on dinner. Elliot didn't tell Kathleen about his date or ask her to come over, but he exhales a little breath, relaxing with the knowledge that she was here. Neither Eli or Bernie needed a babysitter, but after everything that had happened in the last few months, Elliot still felt more comfortable having Kathleen hanging out with them for the evening while he was gone.

"Geeze dad are you losing feeling in your hands?" Kathleen asked from her perch at the kitchen island helping Bernie chop ingredients for a salad.

Holding his hands up, flexing and looking curiously at his fingers, Elliot asks, "No, my hands are fine. Why do you ask?"

"I just couldn't think of any other reason why you'd stop buttoning your shirt half way up," Kathleen answers with an ornery smirk. He looks down, realizing that resting his glasses on the top button accentuates the deep V of his shirt and the crucifix draws attention to his chest. He doesn't really care, he likes his shirt buttoned there.

"Don't tease your father dear," Bernie turns and looks Elliot up and down, "he's going on a date with Olivia."

"What?" Kathleen exclaims, "A date? Like a real one?" She sets her knife down and practically skips across the room to her dad.

Blush tinges Elliot's cheeks and ears when she hugs him tightly. "Yes…a date…with Olivia."

"This is so great!" she says, squeezing him tighter before letting him loose. "And your shirt makes sense now. She loves your chest," she adds, rubbing her hand over his shirt, like she was brushing dust from shoulders.

"She does not," he grumbles, putting his glasses on the counter and reaching for the next button on his shirt.

"Ooooooh yes she does," Kathleen croons, covering her dad's hands, stopping them. "I've seen her look at you, and her eyes alwaaaays pauses over your chest. Especially when you wear a Henley shirt," she tells him dramatically and puts his glasses back over the button. "You better leave it as it is."

"She's right Elliot," Bernie says, "I've caught Olivia appreciating your looks recently."

"Okay, okay," Elliot brushes past his daughter to snag his wallet and keys that were on the kitchen counter, "that's enough. We are just having dinner. I will be back later."

"Sure, you will dear," Bernie replies in the same tone a parent would use with a child when they say something absurd, before turning to Kathleen and whispering conspiratorially, "We will make our own plans for breakfast."

Olivia never thought that she and Amanda Rollins would get this close. But right now, she is ever thankful for the woman's friendship. Monday night Olivia asked Amanda if she could host Noah for a sleep over this Friday. Amanda agreed on the spot, but she couldn't stop herself from getting nosey.

"What do you have going on Friday?" Amanda asked, plopping down on the couch in Olivia's office.

"I'm going to dinner," Olivia answers directly, trying to keep her features unreadable and her eyes on the papers on her desk. She's not sure why, but she didn't want to outright admit that she had a date with Elliot.

" Dinner? " Amanda teased.

"Yes, dinner."

"Dinner with a man?"

"Yes, dinner with a man," Olivia responded flatly.

"Dinner with a tall, beefy bald man with an attitude and penchant for sticking his foot in his mouth?"

Olivia couldn't keep a straight face at that description. She looks up at Amanda with a cocked head, "Beefy?"

"I might be in a relationship, but I'm not blind. That man looks like he never leaves the gym. He is fit, burly, hunky, beefy—pick your adjective."

Olivia chuckles, knowing that she's caught, and that Amanda is right. Elliot is beefy . "That might be the man."

"I thought you and Elliot were ' just ' friends," Amanda teases with air quotes.

"Well now we are the kind of friends that go out to dinner."

"So, he's your boy- friend ," Amanda counters.

"I'd think you more than anyone," Olivia eyes Amanda with a pause, "would understand complicated relationships."

"Yea, yea," Amanda brushes off the comment, and keeps on, "You two get that hotel room yet?"

"Amanda!"

She just grins and shrugs, "What?"

"No, no hotel rooms…yet."

"Ha!" Amanda clapped her hands and stood from the couch. "Well good for you, it's been too long since you've been out for fun," she continued as left the office.

Olivia's still in her room getting ready when the buzzer to her apartment buzzes at 7:10 on Friday evening. Amanda had arrived a few minutes prior to get Noah. She and Noah were going to meet Sonny and the girls out for a quick dinner before heading home.

"Amanda, can you get that please," Olivia hollers down the hall from her room, assuming it's Elliot.

Amanda presses the button and speaks into the small speaker, "Olivia Benson's apartment."

"I have an Elliot Stabler here," the front desk security officer replies.

Amanda's lips tighten trying to hold back her grin. "You can send him up."

Knowing that the elevator takes only a couple of minutes, Amanda dashes to Olivia's room and talks through the door. "It's Elliot. I told them to send him up,"

Olivia opens the door to respond, rather than yelling through, "He's early. Of all the times for that man to be early for something."

Taking a step back, Amanda gives Olivia a good look. "You look great."

Olivia was in a dress similar to the green dress he'd seen her in that May (one he clearly appreciated), a flowy fit, hitting her at the knees, with a mild V-neck. But this one was dark blue and sleeveless. She'd also popped on strappy heels in an attempt to hang on to the last of summer.

Before Olivia gets a chance to tell her thank you, they hear the knock on the front door.

Amanda grins, "Now get out there and go get your man."

By the time Olivia gets to the living room, she sees that Noah's already let Elliot in the front door and they are both standing in the small foyer, the older man looking uncomfortable and with a small bouquet of flowers in his hand hanging at his side.

"Noah, you should have waited for me to open the door."

"It's just Elliot, mom. Elliot's a friend," Noah counters as he turns to face his mom.

Elliot grins down at Noah at his succinct description of his role in their lives, but the grin quickly disappears from his face when he sees Olivia heading his way.

Amanda, who'd hung back by the kitchen, has to slap her hand over her own mouth to prevent audible hysterics. If Elliot had been a cartoon, his jaw would be on the floor and his eyes would have bounded out of his head, all accompanied by an " ah-oo-ga " or " yowzah! " sound track.

Olivia blushes at Elliot's gaze, but refuses to let the moment stay awkward for too long. "El?"

He swallows as his eyes trail up her body to her face, "Uh, yea?"

Olivia points at the bouquet in his hand with a small nod.

"Oh! Yea, here," he holds them out to her, "These are for you." Once she takes the flower from him, he swipes his face over his hand and finally leans in to kiss her cheek. "Sorry, you uh…You look beautiful, Liv."

"Not looking so shabby yourself," she says with a wink. He watches her eyes and takes note when they hesitate at his chest for a split second, just long enough for a hint of pink to creep into her cheeks. "I'm going to put these in a vase and then we can go."

Watching his mom leave the foyer to get a vase, Amanda following her, and completely oblivious to the tension between Elliot and her, Noah pokes at Elliot's side. "Elliot?"

"Yea bud?" Elliot answers, slow to pull his eyes from Olivia's back.

Waiting until he had Elliot's full attention, he asks, "Are you and mom going on a date?"

"Uh…well…" Elliot fumbles, caught off guard by the boy's question, his attention still on Olivia in that gorgeous dress.

"Mom said that you guys are going to dinner."

"We are going to dinner," Elliot confirms, figuring that if Olivia told Noah that they were going to dinner, he could admit it too.

"Are you going to spend the night?"

"Huh?"

"If you are dating, that means that you are going to sleep over, right?"

"Well…um…dating can mean a lot of things," Elliot tries to answer, rubbing the back of his neck. "Tonight, it means that we are going to dinner. And I'm, uh, not sure about…"

Rolling right past Elliot's obvious discomfort and attempts to avoid the questions, in a rush to get to his point before his mom returns, he asks, "If you ever spend the night, can you help me cook pancakes for mom? I want to make her breakfast, but I'm not allowed to use the stove without her."

Snorting at the odd turn in the conversation and thankful to dodge any tough questions, Elliot agrees and pats the boy on his shoulder. "Sure, bud. If I ever stay over, I'll help you cook pancakes for your mom. I don't know if or when that will happen."

"That's okay. Just when you do…"

"When you do what?" Olivia interrupts. Elliot hadn't noticed her walking toward him, his eyes set on Noah's face as the boy inquired about making pancakes.

"Nothing," he deflects, "Ready to go?"

"Ready."

"Let's go then."

She turns back to Noah, kisses his forehead and ruffles his hair, "Be good. Listen to Amanda. Don't stay up too late."

"Yes, mom ," Noah whines at the affection.

"I love you."

"Love you too."

Elliot reaches for her hand, lacing their fingers as they leave her apartment building. He's gotten used to this part of their friendship, holding hands, and he loves it, seeking out her hand whenever they are near each other.

"I know that I've already said it, but you look amazing, beautiful."

Olivia doesn't respond, she just blushes and squeezes his hand tighter.

She finally asks as they make their way towards his car, "So where are we headed?"

"A newer place, Americana, I think. Maureen suggested it," he told her. "I hope it's good. I ran out of all my special restaurant favors after Fin," he adds jokingly.

"I don't know why I have to suffer because of your bribe."

He chuckles as he opens the door for her. "You better take it up with your Sergeant, he's the one that has high prices."

"I'll bring it up in his next review."

It didn't take long for them to be taken to their seats once they arrived at the restaurant. It was low lit, each table being adorned with small, individual lamps.

"Here," Elliot directs Olivia to her seat as he pulls out her chair, kissing her cheek after she sits.

She looks at him questioningly.

"I said the full date treatment, didn't I?" he answers her silent question.

"You did," she admits, "are you going to order for me too?"

"Nah," he tells her, reaching for his menu, "I know your Thai and pizza order, but not this one."

"No, I guess you wouldn't," Olivia answers quietly, almost accusingly.

Elliot picks up on her tone but doesn't get a chance to respond because the server arrives to take their drink order. Once they place their order, Elliot reaches out to Olivia and she puts a hand on the table for him to take.

"Olivia, I'm so glad that we are doing this, finally doing this."

"Me too," she nods.

"I…uh, I never thought this would happen. That'd I ever get lucky enough to take you out. I've thought about this, about us, for a long time, longer than I should have."

"Me too. I've wanted this for a long time," she strokes his palm with her thumb.

He continues, "I know that we have a lot to work through. But I want to make sure that you know that there wasn't a day when I was gone that I didn't think about you, that I –"

Knowing where he's going and not wanting to talk about this right now, on their first official date, Olivia interrupts. "El, can we…can we not do this?"

He gulps, reeling that he might be starting off too strong. "Do what?"

"I just…I really…" she sighs, trying to find the words, "We still have a lot of things to discuss. But I don't want to do that right now. I just want us to have a good night tonight, enjoy dinner, without all of that weighing on us."

Nodding, he knows she's probably right. He just wanted to put his cards on the table, so they could be past it already. "I sorry, I–"

"Don't apologize. I just want tonight to be good, relaxed. You know?"

"No, you're right," he affirms, rubbing her hand between two of his. "You are absolutely right."

She takes a drink of water, before changing the subject. "So, tell me, what were you and Noah talking about while I was out of the room?"

Grinning, he lies, "Nothing."

"Liar."

"It's between us men."

She laughs and changes the subject again. "Fine, fine. Are you excited for the baby shower?"

"I guess," he shrugs, reaching for his own water, "But I don't understand why I have to go to the baby shower"

"That's how they do it nowadays, it's not just for the women. The couple throws them and wants everyone to come," Olivia explains.

He grunts his disapproval, pulls his glasses from his shirt and starts to read the menu.

"Come on, it will be fun. You get to eat cake, decorate a onesie, and play some games."

"Games?" His eyebrow pops, peering at her over the menu.

"Oh yea, guess the due date, guess the baby food from the smell or taste, pin the safety pin on the diaper, baby-themed scavenger hunt, karaoke, and so many more."

He grimaces, "Oh god, those sound so stupid."

"They are," she agrees with a laugh as the server comes back to take their meal order.

Dinner goes smoothly and before they know it, they are pulling back into the lot near Olivia's apartment and Elliot is opening her car door to walk her inside. He places a hand at the low of her back, one of his new favorite places to touch her. And a mild tension settles between them as he guides her inside and to the elevators. They both felt that the date was a success but were unsure what happened next.

Elliot knows what he'd like to have happen—walk Olivia up to her apartment, kiss her, and make sweet, passionate love to her all night long. As smart as he is, however, he knows that the night was not likely going to end that way. He is hopeful, though, for a good night kiss. One on the lips, maybe with a little tongue. A small smile curls over his lips as he squeezes the hand he held in his and turns the corner to her apartment after the elevator doors dinged open.

Olivia, on the other hand, is a ball of anxiety. The date was so much easier than she anticipated—it was effortless. They talked like friends but were able to weave in small flirtations and hints about attraction and desires without feeling awkward or guilty. She knows her apartment was empty, and she knows Elliot knows that her apartment is empty. She knows what she wants to happen in that empty apartment. She is ready to take their relationship to the next physical level. Though she's not sure if they should go there so soon, but she's tired of waiting and second guessing. She wants him. Her thighs clenched at thoughts of kissing Elliot and images of the man hovering over her, grunting as the thrust into her that flashed quickly through her mind. Her body shivers noticeably.

"You okay," he asks when he feels her tremble.

She smiles reassuringly, her heart beat increasing, "Yea, I'm good." Maybe she'll just see how it plays out once they were inside, she thinks.

They reach her door quickly and with fingers shaking with apprehension, Olivia puts the key in the lock and turns to Elliot. He's grinning as he looks at her. She can see his eyes flicker down to her lips before meeting her eyes. She can read his questions on his face, whether he can kiss her now or if she's going to invite him in.

She swallows, readying herself to ask him what she wants to ask. "Do you want to come in for a night cap?"

Biting his lip to stifle his grin, he nods, "Yea, I would."

The tension grows tenfold once they are inside. Olivia heads straight for the kitchen to open a bottle of wine, and Elliot follows her. He can tell that she is a ball of nervous energy. He could sense it when they were walking to her door, but it was stronger now.

Thinking that she regrets inviting him inside, Elliot calls her name softly, "Liv," as he reaches out to cover her hand, her fingers fumbling with the wine bottle opener. "I can go home. I can leave right now, get into my pajamas, crawl into bed, and call you at 10:30 like usual. I'll tell you all about the amazing date I had tonight and my plans for a second date," he offers. Their night has been perfect so far and he doesn't want to end it on a bad note, with her uncomfortable or unsure.

She looks at him, disappointment flashing through her brown eyes. "Oh, okay…yea, if you want."

"No, Liv. It's not what I want," he shakes his head as he reaches for her other hand, turning her to face him. "But, you uh…how do I say this kindly? You, uh… look like you don't want me to be here."

She sighs and admits, "It's not that, I just…I'm out of my depth here."

"I find that hard to believe, Olivia Benson out of her depth after a date," he says through a small chuckle.

She narrows her eyes at him. He really is an idiot , she thinks. He clearly doesn't realize the implication of what he just said. But she doesn't want to go there now. She wants to stop freaking out over the fact that Elliot is standing in her kitchen, looking delicious as hell in that shirt, after they had an excellent dinner, and that she's been trying to decide for the last hour how exactly she wants this date to end.

She chooses to deflect. "How are you not nervous?"

"You should have seen me before our date, Liv. I tried on my whole closet and my hands shook worse than yours when I knocked on your door. But then, I saw you, and I realized that I'm exactly where I want to be and there was nothing to worry about, because it was you and me."

Releasing her bottom lip from her teeth, she confesses, "Knowing that it's us makes me even more nervous."

"Why?"

"I don't know, it just feels…uh…" she trails off, searching for the right words.

"So real?" he supplies quietly, stepping closer, invading her space. "So big? So important? Like forever coming?"

"Yea, all of that."

"Would it make you feel better if you knew that I have no expectations for tonight? There is no pressure here, Liv," he tells her earnestly, "I just didn't want the night to end."

Reading his face, she knows he's being honest. She thinks to herself, asking what her own expectations for tonight were. Her cheeks warm when she realizes that maybe she hadn't expected sex tonight, but she's definitely not opposed to the idea. And she wants to know what he wanted, even if it wasn't expected.

"No expectations, huh?" she asks in a coy tone.

"Well, if I'm being completely honest," he pauses for her permission to go on, which she gives with a slight incline of her head and raising her brows, "I was hoping to kiss you good-night. Like really kiss you; leave you with a kiss that knocks you off your feet."

His admission knocks the wind from her chest, she knows that her cheeks have to be pink now. She wants that, she wants him to kiss her. "Are we the kind of friends that kiss like that?"

"Fuck friends, Liv," he says gruffly, surprising her and forcing a small gasp past her lips without her permission. "We are so far past that now. I want to be more than friends."

She nods, "I know. So do I."

"Okay then." He pulls her hands to his chest, holding them flat against his chest with one hand so she can feel his heart pounding. He cups her cheek as he takes a small step forward, closing the last bit of space between them. He whispers his next questions as he leans his head, their noses almost touching. "So, can I kiss you like that, Olivia?"

This time she's ready for his question. She barely gets her "Yes" out before his lips touch hers. He presses his closed lips against hers, light and sweet, holding for a few seconds as they breathe in, their chests swelling in sync, before he pulls back.

Her eyes flutter open, a smile curls slowly across her lips. He looks down at her, his eyes staying on her lips noticing that her lipstick had started fading from their night. He has the sudden urge to kiss it completely off.

"I thought you said that you were going to really kiss me," she whispers in the small space between their mouths, her warm breath washing over his face challenging him to kiss her again.

"Just warming up, can't scare you away with my lips," he answers,

"I'm not scared, El," she tells him, so quiet that she's not sure he heard her before he presses his mouth to hers again, his lips molding to hers. He surrounds her bottom lip, sucking it gently between his before running his tongue across it, tasting it, tasting her. She hums and starts opening her lips, but much to her chagrin he pulls back again.

"'M still standing," she mummers. Her teasing words contradicted by the way her chest heaves and she's leaning towards him, chasing him, and licking her lips seeking the taste of him he'd just deprived her of.

He growls, frustrated by her taunting. He wanted to build up, let the heat simmer. He didn't want to move too quickly, afraid to push her too far. But she's begging him to lead them further and faster. Who is he to deprive her?

He dives one of his in her hair and the other grasps at her hip, pulling her to him roughly. Her chest crashes into his and his mouth, wide and forceful crashes into hers. His teeth clash against hers before nipping at her lips.

It's briefly awkward until they find their groove, how their mouths fit, how their tongues work together. It doesn't take long, though. He tilts his head further and opens his mouth wider, sweeping his tongue through the space of her mouth, guiding her into a deep and wet kiss. He's devouring her, consuming everything she's offering and she's giving him all of her.

She whimpers when he snakes his hand around her back, down to her ass, pulling her hips flush against his. He shuffles her back against the fridge, the small round magnets holding up Noah's kindergarten artwork dig into her back. But she pays no mind to the discomfort, too overwhelmed by Elliot.

His body is warm; his hands are large and have started exploring—groping at her ass and thigh, ups her side; his tongue still deep and tangling with her; and his arousal is present against her hip.

"Now?" he asks roughly when he begins to kiss her neck, with wet, nipping kisses as he waits for her to answer. And she likes that, the sound of arousal on his tongue.

"The lightest feather could knock me over," she answers breathlessly.

"Hmmm, still not good enough," he gruffs, trailing his lips back to hers, but not before catching a glimpse of her lips, plump and wet, her lipstick nearly completely faded.

This time his kiss isn't so desperate and needy, instead it's softer, deeper, more alluring. His tongue teases hers, velvet gliding over velvet; his lips suck at hers rather than biting. Her hands finally start moving. One finds its way to his jaw, her thumb brushing over the stubble on his cheek, and the other rubs over his back, going lower until she slides it into his back pocket.

He groans when he can feel her pressuring his hips to grind against hers. He gives in, slowly pushing his erection against her, pulling her thigh around his leg. He can feel the heat build between them. Beads of sweat begin to roll down his spine, soaking into his dress shirt.

Her back arches, pressing her chest even harder against his chest as he finds her neck again, having learned that his soft, wet kisses cause goosebumps to rise up and a shiver to rush through her. He kisses down and down, reaching her collarbone, then the tops of her breast peeking out from the neck of her dress.

"God, you are so sexy Liv," he mumbles against her skin,

"El…" she pants.

"Hmmm?"

She takes a deep breath, enough for her to speak. "How badly do you want that night cap?"

Lifting his head, grinning wolfishly he answers, "Not at all."

Her fingers trail down his neck to his collarbone, following the V created by his shirt, swirling through the soft dusting of hair peeking out between his pecs. "Me either."

"What do you want?" he braves, his hands resting on her hips, silently hoping that she wants to move to the bedroom.

"You."