Stripped

(This chapter contains mature content)

A/N: It has been brought to my attention that I may have ended the last chapter on a bit of a cliffhanger (cough, cough, bkrbunny, cough). Oops. Sorry to make you wait a couple of days for what you've been wanting, but I was really determined to write a sex scene that was worthy of the emotional relationship these two have been building. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Do I still need to disclaim? I don't own shit, and you all know it. Enjoy!

By the time her words registered in his mind, Olivia had already moved inside the room. When he stepped inside and slid the glass door behind him, she was toweling her hair and standing near the bed. "Are you sure?" he asked, as she threw a towel at him.

Olivia watched him carefully as he peeled his tee shirt off and ran the towel over his soaked skin. With a raised eyebrow, she considered the fact that she was sure. With one hundred percent clarity, she knew what she wanted. Him.

Nodding slowly, she licked her lips and crossed her arms over her body, lifting the hem of her dress up her hips. But John moved quickly, tossing his towel to the side and grabbing her arms. Olivia's hurt expression nearly broke his heart. "Come here," he whispered, pulling her toward the bed.

She followed him to the bed and then crawled up when he motioned to the mattress. On her knees, she leaned forward and held his face in her trembling hands. The words "I love you" flitted through her mind, but she pressed her lips to his in an attempt to stop them from flowing out. His tongue plunged deep into her mouth, roving over the top of hers as she turned her head to give him better access.

Retracting his fingers from her hair, John slowly ran his hands over her arms, feeling her shiver beneath his tender touch. Though it had only been a couple of months, he felt like he had been waiting for this moment forever. And he didn't want to ruin it by forcing anything or moving too quickly. Finally, the tips of his fingers reached the hem of her dress, and he slowly lifted it over her thighs.

It would seem silly, almost girlie, to admit that he didn't want her taking her clothes off for him at that moment. He had promised, time and again, that he didn't mind her occupation. He knew that she stripped for strange men who didn't give a damn about her feelings or her heart. But he wanted all of her - every physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional piece - and he wanted to uncover it himself.

Her breath caught in her throat as he worked at a painstaking pace, trailing quick, gentle kisses along her rain-moistened skin. His tongue made contact with her belly button, as his hands held the gathered fabric of her dress just under her breasts. With an accidental giggle, Olivia felt her abs tighten as she ran her fingers over his hair. The feeling of his lips turning up in a small smile against her stomach erased her laughter though, causing a deep moan that she hadn't expected.

The temptation to pull back and watch her as he uncovered her breasts was more than he could fight, so John ceased his kisses and stood to his full height. When Olivia lifted her arms above her head, he pulled the dress over her arms and dropped it to the floor, never taking his eyes off of hers. The glimmer of anticipation in her emerald orbs was more arousing than any part of her naked form. Well, almost.

Glad that she had chosen a matching bra and panty set, she brushed her lace-covered chest against his bare one and licked her lips again. Unable to keep a genuine smile of happiness at bay any longer, she beamed and rested her forehead against his. Running the tips of her fingernails down his chest, she attached her lips to his throat, sucking as she fumbled with the buckle of his belt. For a moment, she wondered if it had been too long since she had tried to take someone's pants off.

John seemed to sense her apprehension, and gently covered her hand with his own, guiding his belt through the buckle. Laying her tiny hand flat against his belly, he opened the button and slid the zipper of his jeans down, letting the pants fall to the floor. Her touch was igniting a fire in his gut that he knew he wouldn't be able to hold off for long.

Kissing her firmly again, he crawled on to the bed before her and gently laid her body back against the bedspread. Hovering over her, he rested his weight on his elbows and smiled, grasping for anything to break the tension their silence was causing. "Don't close your eyes," he whispered in her ear, before wrapping his lips around the lobe and letting his tongue circle the tender flesh.

As if his words held some hypnotic power, Olivia fixed her gaze on the ceiling and tried not to blink. His linked his right hand with her left and raised it above their heads, slowly running his free fingers down her side, resting them on her hips. His kisses moved from her ear, down her jaw, and to the hollow of her throat, before he started a trek along her collarbone with his tongue.

With a chaste kiss on her shoulder, John pulled back and smiled again when he found her eyes open, watching him intently. "Please," she whispered.

Untangling his fingers from hers, hooked his index fingers inside her panties and slid them down her thighs, his breath brushing her neck as he lowered his head to watch her unclasp her strapless bra. Both tossed her underwear to the floor, and John started to slide his own down his narrow hips. Until Olivia covered his hand with her own.

"Let me," she stated, though it sounded more like a question for permission.

John gasped as she leaned forward and tugged on his underwear, her bare breasts brushing his chest. Without much thought, he plunged a hand into her hair and roughly pulled her lips to his own. That one moment of contact seemed to send him into an animalistic place, one where his desire was released and his self-control was chased into the night.

To Olivia, the temperature in the room seemed to have dropped substantially. The air-conditioner hummed somewhere in the background, and she felt goose bumps raising all along her legs and arms. Grasping John's shoulders, she pulled his body to hers desperately, using him as a blanket against the cold. Her legs wrapped around his thighs of their own volition, and she found her hands kneading and grasping at the soft skin of his ass as though taken over by a frantic craving.

As soon as her heated wetness touched his rock-hard shaft, John lost any and all thoughts of slowly showing her how much he appreciated her spirit and mind. Kissing her with a reckless abandon, he plunged deep into her, grunting when her muffled scream vibrated against his tongue. If there was such a thing as the perfect fit, John had found it.

Olivia's moans evolved into gutteral gasps and groans of pure ecstasy as he dipped his head to one of her breasts and sucked the taut nipple between his kiss-swollen lips. The plastic surgeon had warned her that one of the risks of implants was that she may not regain total feeling in her nipples. Had she been able to form a coherent thought, she would have made a mental note to assure him that was not the case.

After a few minutes of slowing his pace, speeding it up, and then slowing back down, John leaned back and looked straight into Olivia's eyes. She touched his face for a second and then thrust herself against him hard, taking him all in and holding him there as she began to contract. She mumbled something that he interpreted as "I'm gonna come," and he began to thrust harder. The sound of his name rolling off of her lips was sweetest sound he had ever heard, and it pushed him into a violent release.

For the first time in her life, Olivia knew what "earth-shattering orgasm" meant. If she thought hard, back to her first time, she could maybe remember climaxing. But she couldn't recall a single other time it had happened, and it had never been like that.

When she sighed contentedly, John pulled out and rolled to the side, staring at the ceiling. Everything inside of him wanted to hold her, but he wasn't sure it was the right thing to do. They weren't lovers, not by definition, not yet. They were friends, who made out sometimes, and now had slept together. But they weren't dating, and they weren't making any future plans together. And he had no idea how she felt about being touched after sex. So he kept his hands to himself.

"Would it be wrong to tell you that I really don't want you to leave me tomorrow?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Olivia smiled, resting one palm against her stomach as she ran the back of her other hand over his arm. "Not wrong," she sighed, her eyes drifting shut.

"Then I really wish you didn't have to leave me tomorrow," he smiled, rolling onto his side to study her face.

A laugh forced its way out of her belly and into the quiet room. "You could always come with me," she offered. "You're Brandon's favorite, ya know?"

The room, which had been thick with sexual tension for nearly an hour, seemed comfortable now, free of inhibitions and frustrated longing. "Right," John rolled his eyes. "Because that whole situation's not fucked up enough already."

She ran her index finger over his lip and then rolled onto her side to face him. His cheek felt smooth and warm under her palm, and she finally allowed herself to believe that it was real. Every surreal, dream-like moment had really happened. And she was really happy. "He'd love it." And so would I.

"So," John grunted as he forced himself to a seated position, leaning against the headboard and beaming a 1000-watt grin down on her, "you're using me to win back the boy wonder, huh?"

As a giggle escaped her throat, she looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes. She felt better than happy. She felt giddy. Flirty, even. Hell, she felt like a school girl with a first crush. John had done the impossible – he had made her feel naïve and innocent again. For that alone, she thought, she could love him forever.

"No, baby," she smiled, throwing her bare leg over his thigh and running her heel over his other knee. "I'm using you to do indescribable things to my body."

The expression on her face was one he hadn't seen from her yet, one that he was determined to keep firmly planted there, no matter what he had to do. The look in her eyes said that she was thinking of something other than her own insecurity and self-worthlessness for the moment. She was free. And she was absolutely breath-taking.

Without another hesitation, he pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. "Give me twenty minutes to power nap, and I promise you – I will not disappoint."

As Olivia drifted off to sleep, one thought kept running from the recesses of her mind, to the forefront, blinking in huge flashing letters. "DON'T RUN."