A/N: Ahh, PG-rated smut. Only I could turn out something as ridiculous as that...
"Now?" he echoed blankly, head spinning from the combination of arousal and anxiety the events of the past few minutes had sent surging through him.
"Yeah, now. Unless you have an objection . . .?"
He blinked.
"But," she added before he could speak, "not here. Move back."
"Why?"
"Oh, not again." She took his face in her hands and pulled him closer. "Complete sentences, remember? And you need to move back so I don't jam a knee into any of your vital organs while I try to get down from here."
"I can help you down, Alex. It was me who put you up there."
"He speaks!" She looked down at the counter she was sitting on. "How did you get me up here without squishing my ribs, anyway?"
"Hips," he told her as he demonstrated in reverse. Using his body as a brake, he slowly set her down on her feet, keeping her pressed against him as he lowered her.
Alex looked down and watched her feet make contact with the floor, then moved her attention a little higher and eyed his hands, which he hadn't moved from her hips and which continued to keep her body tight against his. "Oh. Like that," she managed weakly as she watched one of his thumbs begin to work its way under the hem of her shirt.
"Mmhmm." He, too, was watching the movements his hands were making as another finger followed the first under the shirt, tracing the waistband of her pants. "Forgot you wore these today."
She pulled her eyes away from his hands and looked down at her pants - as in, pants that belonged to her, she realized. Today had been the first time that she'd been able to wear pants with a button-fly instead of an elastic waist, and they'd had a minor scuffle in the morning when he tried to overrule her clothing choice. She'd won, of course, and so she'd gotten to wear a pair of loosely-cut slacks instead of a pair of ten-sizes-too-big sweatpants.
"Hmm," she murmured, eyeing him speculatively. "They remind you that I won the fight?"
He shook his head, still concentrating on his hands. "They remind me that they're harder to take off than sweatpants."
"What?" She let out a startled laugh as she pulled back slightly from him so she could see his face better. "You'd be better off keeping your mind on the here-and-now, Goren."
He swallowed nervously, belatedly realizing what he'd just blurted out. "Sorry."
"You never cease to amaze me," she sighed with a dazed shake of her head. "Come on. Couch." Amused by his obvious discomfort, she pulled his hand out from under her shirt and used it to lead him toward the living room.
He followed without protest, trying to organize his thoughts in the few seconds he had between kitchen and couch.
Unfortunately, he didn't feel any more coherent by the time he sat down on the couch and pulled her down onto his lap. All he was sure of was that he liked this and she seemed to, too. "Alex?" he asked quietly as she settled herself across his legs, leaning one shoulder against him.
"What?" She settled her head against his shoulder, a small sigh of contentment on her lips.
"Uh, about what I just said in there . . ."
"It's fine." She put a hand over his mouth to stop his apology and grinned. "It just surprised me to hear it come out of your mouth right then." Sliding her hand from his mouth to his cheek, she leaned in and kissed him gently. "I like this. Why didn't we do this sooner?"
"Because I, uh . . ."
"Oh, right," she said, snapping her fingers as though the thought had just occurred to her. "It was because you were afraid of it. So?" she went on, looking at him curiously. "How about now?"
He pushed her hand away from his face and slid his right hand into her hair. "Alex."
"What?"
"Be quiet." The hand in her hair pulled her forward before she even realized she was moving, and by the time it occurred to her to make a noise, his mouth was covering hers, his hands on either side of her face holding her still.
Not that she had any objection to that, she decided after a second. With a quiet sigh, she relaxed against him, one hand on his chest to support herself. Her other hand started at his neck and made a slow trip down, over his collar, to the top button of his shirt. At least he took off the tie when we got home tonight, she thought as she fought against the stiff buttonhole. Why do they starch these damn things, anyway?
His fingers moved against her skin, thumbs sweeping over her cheekbones as he pushed his hands into her hair with a groan. "Alex . . ."
The top button conquered, she moved on to the next one as she whispered against his mouth, "I know." It was impossible to work the buttons at this angle, she decided, shifting so that she was facing him head-on, straddling his legs. Ah, much better.
One of his hands moved from her hair and began to mirror the path her hand was taking on him, although he left her buttons as they were for the moment, content to skim his hand down her body. "Ribs?" he mumbled into her mouth as his hand reached the bottom hem and delved under it.
She broke away for a breath. "Play nice and don't get overenthusiastic and they should be ok, at least for this." Looking down at where his hand had come to rest on her hip rather than climb higher up her body, she gave him a teasing smile. "It's not like your hand wasn't there half an hour ago already."
"When you put it like that . . ." He trailed his fingertips up her ribcage, applying almost no pressure as he explored. "No tape?"
"Didn't do much good anyway, and it was a pain in the ass to put on," she told him as she went to work on his shirt again. "Now, can we please stop talking about my ribs?"
"What would you rather talk about?" he breathed as their lips met again.
Her hand's sudden appearance on his stomach made him jump and she giggled. "How about your ribs?" she teased, rubbing a hand over the area in question.
A hum of pleasure escaped him at her touch and he let his eyes drift closed. "Whatever you want," he told her, voice trailing off as her other hand joined the first on his bare skin.
"Whatever I want, huh?" She walked her fingers up the center of his chest and settled one hand over his heart. "So I've finally found the secret to getting the great Bobby Goren to do whatever I say?"
"Ask me again sometime when you're not sitting on top of me," he managed, opening his eyes long enough to lean forward and kiss her. "It gives you an unfair advantage."
"Mmm," she agreed, shifting forward and allowing her own eyes to close as his hand moved higher up her side, barely brushing against one of her breasts. "That's kind of the point."
He stretched his hand against her skin. "You're not wearing . . ."
She paused in her exploration of his chest and looked at him in surprise. "You're just figuring that out now? I haven't been able to wear one since my ribs got busted. Probably still not for another two weeks." She sighed dramatically, then ruined the effect when it turned into a yawn. "Well, there go my fantasies about you having constantly lusted after my body for the past few weeks."
His eyes opened and he blinked. "What?"
"Well if you haven't noticed that I wasn't wearing a bra - which was really fairly obvious to anyone who looked, unfortunately - then you can't have been checking me out."
He looked at her, perplexed, for a second, and then shook his head. "Trust me, I have been. Can't explain now, though," he added, pulling her head down for a kiss. "Busy."
Instead of pulling back again, she let her forehead rest against his after the kiss ended. "Mmm, busy. Right," she murmured, leaning over his shoulder to push his shirt off him.
He shifted his hand to the center of her chest, restricting her movement, when her hips began to follow the rest of her body forward. "Alex . . ."
The shirt disposed of, she pulled back to her original position to kiss him, then looked up. "What?"
He opened his mouth, then shut it again, realizing that he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. Sorry, Eames, I don't go past second base on the first date with women who have broken bones and no doctor's note?The thought made him choke on a laugh, which he tried to cover with a cough. "Uh . . ."
She leaned forward to put her elbows on his shoulders as she looked him in the face and asked bluntly, "You want me to get up?"
"No, why?"
She shrugged tiredly. "I'm trying to figure out what your problem is with the way I'm sitting."
He sighed and moved his mouth the mere inch he needed to to kiss her. "Nothing. Forget it," he mumbled, moving his hand from the center of her chest to the more interesting areas on either side.
"You sure?" she asked, voice rising to a squeak as his hands began to move more boldly on her.
"Mmm-hmm." He'd worry about that when they came to it, he decided. There was simply no good way to present it to her beforehand without having her either laugh at him for being a prude or slug him for presuming to know what was best for her.
But damn it, now he was well and truly distracted. He slid one of his hands around to her back, tracing the line of her spine down from her shoulders and savoring the shiver that ran through her in response. "Alex?"
She sighed. "You talk a lot, anyone ever tell you that?"
He ignored that. "I told you this would be dangerous."
"Huh?" She looked down at his hands on her and hers on him, and blinked. "Sorry, but I don't feel endangered in the least."
"You probably should."
"What am I in danger of? Certainly not you - right now it seems a lot more likely that I'd ravish you than vice versa."
"That's not what I mean. This, now, is fine. It's what happens when we leave the apartment that's dangerous."
She stared at him in disbelief. "You're not bringing this up now. Tell me you're not bringing this up now."
"It would be a good idea to -"
"No," she cut him off, swinging one leg around so she was no longer straddling him and then moving off his lap entirely. "I'm not doing this tonight, Bobby. Leave it alone."
"But -"
"No." She stood up with a groan, then turned to look at him, attempting a weak smile. "If you're going to keep on this topic, I'm going to go to bed. Today was . . . tiring." Not waiting for his reply, she walked toward the bedroom, then paused in the doorway and turned back toward him. "Bobby?"
Still trying to figure out what was so bad about trying to work things out in advance, he didn't realize until a second later that she was talking to him. "Uh, what?"
"It would be nice if you wouldn't wear a long-sleeved shirt to bed tonight." With that, she turned and disappeared into the dark bedroom.