Damn Amanda Rollins
Chapter 5 - Ed
Why hadn't she told Elliot about her scars? She had to know at some point that this was going to happen. She was going to be with a lover who wanted to ask questions or would be repulsed by what lay under her clothes. In fact, it had been on her mind in those years immediately after, but as time went on, they just became part of who she was, and she didn't give them much thought. But they were still there, and perhaps they wold always be a problem. She jut never thought with Elliot, of all people. Damn.
The last time she had taken a new lover, it had been just…magic.
7 years ago….
"I told him to rape me." The way she had said that line, so matter-of-fact, the cop in her was there and completely present and professional, but he had seen the flash in her eyes that she wouldn't have been able to hide, even if she had been aware of it.
He was supposed to ask the follow up question - had she, in fact, been raped by William Lewis, but he faltered. The words just wouldn't come. So, his partner had asked, and to any outside observer, it would have seemed completely normal. No one would have guessed that Ed Tucker - the man with no emotions whatsoever - had slipped.
He couldn't get her out of his mind after that. Yes, he had gone after her for murder, and he had attempted to take her shield on more than one occasion. She was a hothead, just like her former partner had been. But…how much of that had been Stabler, and not Benson? Was *she* the problem, or had it been him all along? He took a swig of the whiskey in front of him, letting the liquid burn as it slid down his throat.
It must have been Stabler. His brushes with her since hadn't shown any evidence of the rogue cop he thought she once was. She had even cooperated to bring down the 1-2, although she had been pissed as hell that Cassidy had been thrown into the line of fire. Collateral damages. They were both cops; they both knew the risks associated with the job. Besides, Cassidy had gotten his shield and a transfer to IAB until he decided he'd rather be hitting golf balls in Florida.
Which had meant…she was free. Neither one was ready to admit there was more than a friendship between them (although there was), and they had enjoyed many quiet dinners in out of the way locations for months now. She wouldn't come with him back to his place, nor would she let him come back to hers, but surprisingly enough, she had let him pin her up agains more than one building to say good-night.
Her lips were unbelievably soft and gentle, and she always tasted of strawberry, somehow. Her hair smelled of vanilla, and felt like silk in his hands. He couldn't get enough of her. It had been a long, long time since he had even considered asking a woman out, let alone being intimate with one, but it had been 4 months since Lewis' death, and even back then, he wanted to protect her. He wanted to close that investigation into Lewis' death with a clear cut case of justifiable homicide. He had kidnapped a little girl and the Sergeant. Both of their prints were on the .38. It was a good shooting….except she insisted that Lewis shot himself. He had done everything possible to get her to back off that story, and go with what the evidence said, but she just wouldn't. Her insistence on clinging to that story, oddly enough, made him believe her account of what happened. But the evidence didn't match up, or at least…the appearance was that this was a pretty bad cover-up by the NYPD to protect Benson.
But she had prevailed. And he had asked her to dinner. Nothing fancy, just a burger and fries, but he had been treated to her smile for an hour and a half as she nibbled at her food. He never wanted that night to end, but alas it had…with the promise of a second date. The second date led to a third and then a fourth…and at one point, a steak dinner in a dimly lit restaurant where she had worn the most incredible red dress. He could not take his eyes off her that entire night, and he knew then and there, he wanted her to be his.
He took another swig of whiskey and ordered a glass of red wine for her, checking his watch. His phone rang, and he smiled as "Sgt Olivia Benson" flashed across the screen.
"Hey, Beautiful," he answered.
"Oh, you should be careful about how you answer your phone. What if I had been one of my Detectives, curious about why there are 18 calls from you on my phone in the last week?" He could hear her smiling through the phone, even as she scolded him.
"They wouldn't dare. I could take all of their shields, and they know it. When can you break away from your office?"
"Well, that's the problem…I can't leave just yet. Rollins caught a case, and we're having trouble getting a statement. I'm going to try to see if I can get anywhere with her." His face fell.
"Oh…can someone else…?"
"She's terrified of me. Fin got within 6 feet of this girl, and she practically climbed the walls to get away from him. I can't leave until-"
"Until you know she's ok, and you can get a case built. I get it." And he did. He really did.
But….damn Amanda Rollins.
"Hey listen…I wanted tonight to be…special…for us. I have a sitter for the night, so maybe…it's a lot to ask, I know…" she was stammering, and she felt a little like a teenager, considering she had planned this for a week now, and was actually looking forward to it.
"Ok, how about this. My plans for the night are cancelled, so I'm going to go home and pour over some case files for a while. Text me when you're done - if you still want to get together - and if I'm still awake, we can do whatever you want to do. If you end up stuck there all night, or you're just too tired, it's ok. We can do this another night." He couldn't see it, but a smile crept across her face, and she bit her lower lip.
"I'd like that. A lot," she said. He signaled for the check, paid, and went to his own apartment, alone, but waiting for her call. He did, indeed, pour over case files, but he started with one he had read over and over, ever since he had been dragged into this wretched case. He went through all of the statements, the evidence, the crime scene photos - her apartment, the beach house, the granary. And the ones he always he ended with were the photos of her. He knew the extent of her injuries, and he knew some of them would never fully heal. He had never pressed her about it, of course, but he was prepared for whatever might happen.
It was nothing he hadn't seen before. In fact, he was required to review the case as IAB became more and more involved in the case and investigating any potential wrongdoing by Sergeant Benson. He wanted to get these images out of his head, but he couldn't. What he wanted to know was what had been done to her in order to know what her potential triggers might be, just in case…he took a deep breath. He didn't know if she would ever let him take her to bed, but he certainly didn't want to traumatize her anymore than what she had already been through. He put the file aside, and pulled out a case from the 6-8 to review his notes. He was due to interview them tomorrow.
And then…there was a light knock at the door. It was faint, and he almost missed it, but he got up and answered it anyway.
And there she was, leaning against the doorframe, her coat hanging open revealing the black slacks and red knit top she had worn to the office. She must have come straight from there because her badge and gun were still clipped to her hip.
"Am I too late for a nightcap?" She asked coyly.
"Never," he stood aside and let her in. While she took in his apartment, he found a bottle and poured her a glass of wine, which she accepted.
"What happened to your rule about going to each other's apartments?" He asked. She shrugged.
"That was before you asked me to be your girlfriend. Since you did, that rule goes away." Ah, yes. He *had* asked to make it official, and she had said yes. She wasn't ready to disclose, and they could wait a little longer, but eventually they would have to. But that was ok. He just wanted her here, with him, now.
She took the glass from him and settled on the couch. He gathered up the files on the coffee table, thankful he had already put her file back into his bag, where she wouldn't see it. She didn't need to know about it…at least…not yet.
He sat next to her, and was pleasantly surprised when she slipped her shoes off, leaned up against him, and pulled her feet up onto the couch.
"How's the girl?" He asked, slipping an arm around her shoulders.
"Sleeping, for now. Fair warning, my phone could ring again. I told the doctors to call if she remembered anything," she explained.
"But she opened up to you." Olivia nodded.
"She kept crying for her mom over and over…but she talked to me. I have Fin and Amaro running down possible leads." She swallowed. "But I don't want to talk about that, not tonight, not now. I just want to be here with you." His hand had gone to her hair, and he found himself stroking her locks and marveling once again at the softness of her hair. He always had a weakness for long hair, and even through she had cut it after her first encounter with William Lewis, it was starting to grow back, and it seemed like she was content to let it grow back to the way it had originally been. Even still, it was long enough for him, and it added an extra flair of femininity to her.
She tilted her head up, and he took the opportunity to brush her lips with his. Feather light and gentle, but she was comfortable and relaxed in his arms. In fact, there was no place she wanted to be more right at this second than right here. She moved her hand to his cheek and deepened the kiss. Oh, this woman was going to be the death of him.
Her hand moved from his cheek up to his short cropped hair, seeking more from his lips. She could taste the faint whiskey and something else that was uniquely *him*. She wasn't even aware of the slight moan that slipped through her lips as his hand moved down her arm and settled on her hip.
He needed more access. This position was awful. Her neck was at an angle where she'd be in pain if the didn't move, and he wanted to touch more of her. He shifted them so that she was on her back, never breaking the kiss and settling her on the sofa.
"You ok?" He whispered to her, realizing the change in position could be perceived as a power move by her. She looked back at him with lust filled eyes, and nodded.
"I am very ok," she whispered back. He grinned and went back to her lips, want to explore every nook and cranny. God, he loved her kisses. He let his hands wander over her shirt, seeking out every inch of her, just this…her lips on his, and feeling her body underneath the thin knit material was enough to start to turn him on. He could feel the blood rushing to that part of his body. She was pulling the buttons on his shirt open one by one, and caressing each new bit of the T-shirt he always wore underneath his work shirts.
He let her push his shirt off his shoulders and toss it on the floor.
"So….I was thinking…." She began, with that smirk on her face he couldn't refuse.
"Oh?" He had been just about to slide his hands under her shirt to feel the skin there, and oh…he desperately wanted to feel her skin.
"Maybe tonight…we could take this to the bedroom?" Oh, fuck yes. He wanted to scoop her up and the throw her on his bed and ravage her, but no…this was their first time. He needed it to be good. He needed her to want to come back and do this again. And as long as he treated her the way she deserved to be treated, she would.
He stood up and offered her his hand, giving her the opportunity to refuse. But she didn't. She grinned and took his hand, letting him lead her to his bedroom. He was silently grateful he had done laundry the day before and had fresh sheets on the bed.
He pinned her up against the wall and kissed her again. This time he was rewarded by that same moan she had made all those times he had her pinned against buildings in alleyways before now, but this…this was better. She pulled his tank undershirt off and flung it across the room, letting her hands explore every inch of his skin while her lips stayed busy with his. He slipped his hands underneath her shirt, and he started to push it higher, intending to pull it off her.
But, her hands covered his, and pushed them down. "No," she said. Her eyes found his. "You can touch whatever you want, but that stays on, got it?"
Oh. Of course. He knew what her torso had looked like after the assault, and he knew it would have left scars. But she didn't know he knew, and he *really* wanted this to continue. So he left it alone. He continued to explore her skin, using touch only, under her shirt. He could feel the imperfections in her skin that she wouldn't let him see, and he came across the clasp of her bra. He fiddled with it, wondering what would happen if he….and then it fell open. He stopped, placing his hands flat against her back.
"Is this ok?" He asked.
"It's fine," she said…and then she did some sort of magic where she pulled her bra off without lifting her shirt at all. "That should make things easier for you."
He took her to the bed and laid her down, covering her body with his. He could not keep his mouth away from hers, but he needed more. He wanted to know every inch of her body, every place that made moan or cry out, every nook and cranny. His lips left hers to trace along her jaw while his hands slipped under her shirt again. He relished the feel of the plane of her stomach, and the feel of the warmth of her skin. His lips found a particular spot behind her left ear that caused her to cry out as soon as he found it. At first, he wasn't sure if she was hurt or turned on, but when she ground her hips against his thigh, he knew. His hands found her breasts, and she cried out with need again.
"Ed…" she begged, pulling at his pants. "Please…"
"Shhh…" he whispered. "I'll take care of you." He let her push his pants off, and then he gently pinned her wrists next to her head. "Not so fast. I want you to enjoy this."
He slid his hands down her body and pulled her pants off.
"Ed…" she moaned again. He pulled her legs over his shoulders, but instead of thrusting into her, had lowered his head to kiss her thighs.
"Ed…wait," she said panicked, but it was too late. Damn it. She bit her lips, bracing herself for what was sure to come, but it was too late. He had seen what she didn't want him to - the remains of the torture Lewis had inflicted. It was more than just her torso; it was her thighs and even between her legs.
"You're absolutely beautiful," he said. Wait, what? He was kissing along her thigh, where she knew some of the worst scars were. He traced them with his fingers, and then followed with his lips.
"Ed…you don't have to…ohhhhh…" He found her pussy and licked her full length. "You don't…ugh…" Whatever he was doing, he was doing it right. She'd never enjoyed this much, but Ed's tongue was finding places she didn't even knew existed.
"Just relax and enjoy it," he said, before going back to his work. This was the part he loved - making a move, and seeing what she did. Did she pull away? Push forward? Moan in pleasure? Grab the back of his head and pull him closer? And she did all of those things as he learned her body and her responses. And then he found the spot where she panted and punctuated her breathing with short screams, and he knew…if he teased her just the right way….a flood of moisture would spill from her. What he hadn't expected was the reverberating scream off his walls that must have woken at least one neighbor as she rode out her wave of ecstasy. When she finished, he stopped and looked at her in awe.
"You're a screamer…" he said, still shocked. "I didn't think you could be any more perfect," he said, kissing her again, letting her taste herself on his lips. "That was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"I hope you'll let me return the favor," she said, rolling them over and tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Maybe next time," he said, pulling her to straddle him. She still had that damn shirt on, but he didn't dare try to pull it off again. Right now, I want to see you do that again. That was amazing."
"Again? I don't think…" she stammered.
"Sure you can. Hang on…have you ever…more than once?" He asked. She shook her head. "Well, my dear Olivia Benson," he began, running his hand through her hair. "I'm a hedonist."
"Ok…care to explain?" She asked.
"I can't…finish…unless you do. And it usually takes a couple of times." She swallowed hard.
"…oh." She wondered what she had gotten into. Part of her was a little afraid, but most of her was excited, and definitely turned on.
"You can't fake it either. Trust me, I'll know," he said. And he had that damn stoic look on his face that she had seen many times in IAB.
"Let me show you," he said. He pulled his boxers off and positioned her over his length, pushing up against her entrance. She slowly started to lower herself onto him, feeling the twinge of pain.
"Jesus, Tucker…where have you been hiding that thing?" He grinned and thrust up slightly to encourage her to keep moving. She placed a hand on either side of him, and slowly slid down him, until he was buried inside her.
"Oh, fuck…" she groaned.
"It'll get easier," he said. He stroked her hair, as she adjusted to him. "Whenever you're ready." She took a moment, and then slowly lifted her body up and brought it back down again. AS she got more and more comfortable, she rode him harder and harder, in the way that always got her previous lovers off….but not Ed. It was difficult for her to reach climax in this position, and almost impossible after she had done it once. He sensed that, and pulled her off him and flipped her over on her stomach. He covered her with his own body and whispered in her ear "trust me."
Keeping her head in the pillow, he pulled her hips up and started thrusting int her from behind. Immediately, she cried out, making indescribable whimpers and moans. He found that spot inside her that was guaranteed to make her come apart at the seams. And in this position, he could finish too. He continued to pound into her, reducing her speech patterns to a series of moans and cries, punctuated with his name every so often.
"Ed….shit…" Her breathing was hard, and he could feel his own finish building. If he could just get her over the finish line, he could get there too.
"Come on, Liv. You're almost there," he urged her on. She groaned and let out a second scream as she clamped down on him. With a shout, he spilled inside her, and gave a few more thrusts, riding both of them through their respective orgasms. She collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily, but content. He laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms.
It didn't take her long to fall asleep after that, and she stayed in his arms all night. In the morning, she crept out of bed, traded her knit top that was covered in sweat for one of his button downs, and headed to the kitchen. When Olivia Benson woke up happy, she made breakfast, and she was *very* happy this morning.
"Hey…" Ed said 20 minutes later when he stumbled out of the bedroom in nothing but his boxers. "Something smells good."
"Coffee's ready, and I'm making pancakes," she said. He couldn't help but notice the huge smile on her face. Oh yeah…Ed Tucker had satisfied her. She put breakfast on the table, and they started to eat.
"There's something I wanted to talk to you about," he started.
"Is it about last night? Because…I…". It had been great for her, but maybe it wasn't for him?
"No, no…last night was good. Really good, and…I'm hoping we can do it again soon." She let out a sigh of relief.
"Ok…so…?"
"I'm assuming you didn't want me to take your shirt off because of…Lewis." She froze. No, no, no…this is what had driven a wedge between her and Brian. She hadn't been ready to talk about it with him, and she certainly wasn't going to discuss it with Tucker after just one night.
"Ed…I don't-"
"It's ok. What I'm trying to tell you is…after you were found at the granary and Lewis was dead, I had to learn the case. It was purely for the investigation to understand the events leading up to his death. What I'm trying to tell you is…I already know." She felt the air leave her lungs.
"…what?" It was barely more than a whisper.
"I already know. About the kidnapping, the assault, what he did. Everything that was in the file. And I don't care." He took her hand in both of his. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me. I know what he did, and I won't ask you to talk about it. If you want to, that's fine, but I won't ask. It's not my place. But I don't want you to be embarrassed or ashamed or worried that I'm going to be turned off by whatever is under there." Her heart melted. It was so much easier knowing that he already knew. She wasn't sure she was quite ready to let him see everything, but he had seen some of it last night, and he already knew about the rest.
"I don't deserve you, Ed Tucker," she said. And almost on cue, her phone rang, and it was back to the precinct and the real world. She showered, dressed, and kissed him good-bye, deciding on her way out that her squad deserved doughnuts as a treat this morning.