Gah, since I stupidly left my brainstorm for "Dreams" back at my dorm and I've been going insanely bored not writing anything, I thought I'd try something new—smut. Probably not my thing, but here it is anyway.
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"Would you like a ride home today?"
"No thanks, Eames. It's a nice day, I'll walk." Bobby waved his partner's offer off without looking up from the paperwork filling his desk.
"Whatever floats you boat." Alex said as she stood up and grabbed her coat. "Just head home before midnight or I'll have to come back to rescue you."
Bobby snickered at that. "Bye."
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Bobby walked through the commercialized zone that separated One PP from his apartment complex. The streets were filled with cute shops and restaurants, too most of which he never gave a second thought. At this time of the year, the corners of windows were covered in fake spray-on snow, garlands and lights were hung from every convenient place and there were more people running around from shop to shoppe trying to get that something special to show someone they knew how much they were loved.
What an odd holiday. And so it was. Only at birthdays were people so inclined to show love through such a materialistic tradition. Bobby chose not to participate in the commercialization of a religion he gave up on so many years ago. There were better ways of showing affection—if one felt so inclined to share them.
He continued walking, noting the several little children who tried to pull mothers away from boring window displays and the faces of young couples as they walked through the streets together. As he passed by a store that was relatively new to the area, a teenage boy, who was obviously in charge of decorating the window display, fell over taking the mannequin down with him. As the dark haired boy picked it up, Bobby noticed the black dress coving the oversized doll.
It was a halter dress with a plunging neckline and a knee length A-line skirt. He could only picture one person in it. It was perfect for her. Alex had a great body that she rarely showed off. She kept in shape because she had to for the job, but it did her good. The halter would show off her nicely shaped shoulders and arms, something he hadn't gotten much of a chance to see since the Jones case. And the flirty A-line, well, it looked good on any woman, but he was sure Alex could take that to new heights. Bobby shook his head, smiled to himself and continued home.
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That night Bobby sat on the couch, nursing a beer. He had called his mother, dinned alone and was now waiting for nothing. He finished his drink, set the bottle on the coffee table and leaned back to think about his day. He was quickly brought out of his day dreams by the sharp chirp of his cell phone.
"Goren."
"Hey Bobby! Wanna come downstairs and join an old friend for some drinks?"
"Lewis! What have you been up too?"
"You know, cars. What else? Get down here and I'll talk to you."
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After several hours, many more drinks, much talk about his partner and who knows how many tens of dollars later, Bobby returned home, exhausted and a bit more than slightly tipsy. He entered his apartment, threw down his keys and overcoat and fell on the sofa—again waiting for nothing. Sleep over came him and it seemed as only minutes passed before there was a knock on his door. Getting up, he grumbled to himself. Who could it be at this hour? Wasn't everyone spending time with friends and family?
But upon opening the door, all of his complaints about being woken from sleep were wisped away. There was Alex, in that little black dress he had seen earlier. Her eyes were slightly narrowed, and a coy smile touched her lips. The dress clung to her every curve in a way he had never before imagined. "Merry Christmas."
"You should say 'Happy Holidays' considering I don't celebrate Christmas."
She walked up to him and pulled his head down so she could whisper in his ear, her voice thick. "But we don't want anyone boycotting the group we work for now, do we?"
That was all Bobby needed in his alcoholic state. His arms wrapped around her waist and his head leant forward to catch her neck with his lips. She didn't complain—quite the opposite in fact. Her hands found his hair and soon the door was closed and he had her up against a nearby wall. Their kisses were rough and hot, fleeting as if neither could find enough passion with just one kiss alone. Kissing mixed with nipping blended with moans mingled with groping. Deep breaths, the rustling of clothing and cries to god filled the room with the warm scent of sweat.
Bobby's hands somehow coordinated themselves to the back of her neck to untie the halter. The cloth stayed over her breasts only because of the closeness of his body until he pulled it down. His hands wandered back up her torso to her chest. Each breast was soft yet firm. Everything was so perfect, so hot, so…implausible.
It wasn't real, couldn't be real. He had Alex, half naked, in his arms. He pulled back to look at her, just to make sure she was really there. It only took him a moment to justify her presence before his mouth claimed hers. He reached down under the skirt, sliding his hands up along the outsides of her legs. He noted the lack of underwear, grabbed her hips and lifted her up, resting her between the wall and his own hips. In the flurry, his pants had already been unzipped and pulled partially off. Before he could react, she thrust herself on his manhood. What little coherent thought was left in him was pushed out along with a loud groan. She was trying to lead, thrusting into him, but there was no room for her. "Bobby!" Her voice was urgent, pleading, and he knew exactly what she wanted.
He grabbed her again, and without detaching himself from her, walked over to the couch. He sat down, with her on top of him. She rode him hard. Her back arched, filling his vision with her chest. He tried to cover a breast with his mouth, but her head came back, her hands pulling his head up to hers. "Just sit. Oh!…Don't…ah do anything." Her mouth claimed his, her hair cascading down along his temples.
He tried to do as she instructed, but the pressure was building. He couldn't last much longer and the urge to touch her was nearly killing him. His fingers curled around the cushions as he waited for climax's sweet relief. But it never came.
Again, the sharp chirp of his cell phone cut through the night air. Bobby awoke suddenly, disappointed that Alex wasn't actually with him. He looked down, "Shit." Even though Alex hadn't spent anytime in his apartment, his body seemed to have a different thought. Ignoring the phone that cut short his pleasant dream, he wandered into the bathroom to take a shower where he fully intended to finish what fictitious Alex had already started.
The cold shower not only relieved him of his problem, but also sobered him up a little. He got out, dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist before stepping out into the dark apartment. "Hey Bobby!" A disembodied voice called from the living room. It started walking toward him at the sound of the opening bathroom door. "You didn't answer your phone so I let myself in. Thought I'd spend some time with my best—um…hi." Her voice had gone shaky the moment she saw him.
Bobby realized he was standing in front of his partner with nothing but a towel around him. "Um, I'll be back in a minute." Just as flabbergasted as she was, he walked into his bedroom to put on some clothes. He pulled some items out of his bureau and leaned his head against the top. "Shit, Bobby, get a hold on yourself." He finished dressing, took in a deep breath, and walked out to face what he hoped wouldn't be an embarrassing encounter.
Fin