AN: Ok so huge apology for the delay – I am usually quick to update as I know how annoying it can be to wait so long you forget what you're even reading but I guess I kind of dropped the ball on Sin there. Thanks again for all the kind words - you're all amazing. Thank you also to my beta LeMiSo who has generously offered up her time to help with my tendency to misspell and become grammatically challenged at times!
Day two of paperwork.
Today however was bearable because as difficult as last night had been, things with Elliot felt marginally on their way to rebuilding.
Bennett was in before she arrived and she tried not to take it as the new boy sucking up. He had given her a wide smile, her morning coffee, and a forty minute recap on the Broadway production he'd seen the previous night. Having lived in Brooklyn most of his life it was apparently quite the novelty having Times Square just a stone's throw away.
She couldn't remember the last time she had been to the theatre.
Elliot had come in on the tail end of the production recap and tried to hide his amusement, he cocked an eyebrow at her and she bit hard into her lip so she wouldn't crack a smile in front of Bennett.
Elliot knew she hated small talk - in time Bennett would learn this.
By lunchtime, Bennett had stepped out and she felt Elliot's not so subtle gaze on her. She tried not to let it distract her and continued on with her paperwork. When she didn't give into his obvious attempt at capturing her attention, he stood up and walked over to her desk and stopped just short of her.
"Thursday night," he said softly before she even looked up. "Dinner?" He gave her the loaded question. Her eyes moved up to his then and she bit back the obvious reply.
You asking me on a date Stabler?
Instead she kept it casual trying desperately to swallow the lump in her throat.
"Sure," she replied nonchalantly as if he'd just offered her a piece of gum.
A wave of relief washed over his face and she wondered if he had really expected her to refuse. He stood there for just a moment longer before he nodded, the makings of a smile tugging at his lips.
"Then it's a date."
She changed at the office.
A fitted navy blue corporate style dress with a slightly generous neckline.
The kind of dress that would be tasteful on most but her ample cleavage and curvaceous backside ramped it up few notches. She'd worn it once before, months ago when she had been getting ready at the precinct and noticed Elliot's severe discomfort at having to hold his gaze from falling south.
She couldn't resist wearing it tonight.
When she walked back to her desk intent on collecting her things, Elliot managed to keep his eyes on her face but Bennett's attempt was dismal.
"Wow." Bennett's jaw practically dropped and she exhaled at his lack of decorum.
Fin looked over at Bennett's appraisal and smiled. "Hot date Liv?" he asked with a chuckle.
Her eyes inadvertently flicked to Elliot's before she answered.
"He's not bad," she responded, mulling over her response. "I guess he'd be about a six."
She watched the muscles in Elliot's jaw tighten as he managed to bite back a response.
"Well you're a definite ten in that dress," Bennett assured her.
It hit her then that Bennett reminded her of a combination of Brian Cassidy and Dale Stuckey. Not the most pleasant amalgamation.
She grabbed her purse and her phone from her desk and her eyes quickly darted to Elliot before she looked away.
"See you tomorrow," she said collectively to all and headed for the door.
They had arranged to travel separately to the restaurant in the city and she had nearly made it out of ear shot when the door to Cragen's office burst open.
"Liv wait," he called out. "We got another body, an emergency press conference is about to go live and the tip line is opening any minute on the Moore case. I need all hands on deck; the phones will be ringing off the hook."
She moved back to her desk without question and dropped her purse, turning her computer back on and reaching for a pen and paper.
Elliot's phone rang suddenly followed by Bennett's. They both answered the calls and Olivia felt Fin's eyes on her.
"Aren't you going to call your date?" he asked her from across the way and she picked up on the skepticism in his voice. She looked over at him, her mouth opening slightly at her attempt at a response and she saw the look in Fin's eyes.
He knew.
She grabbed her phone regardless and promptly excused herself making her way towards the locker room. She quickly typed the message.
Rain check
She ran a hand through her hair and tried not to mull on the fact that this was the first time she'd actually cared that her job got in the way of her attempt at a social life.
The phone calls started to taper down around 10pm, it was now two-three per hour as opposed to two-three per minute and they were waiting for Cragen to call it. The Chinese had finally arrived and Fin was dishing out their orders.
Olivia ordered the chicken, Elliot the beef and halfway through their meals he walked over and placed his takeaway container on her desk picking up hers.
"Enjoying dinner?" he looked down at her with a purposeful smile, his sarcasm evident.
She sat back in her chair and rubbed the back of her neck, kneading the ache. Bennett was taking a much needed bathroom break and Fin was on a call.
"It's phenomenal," she matched his sarcasm and picked up his container of beef and scooped some up with her chopsticks.
"When Cragen throws in the towel," he began between mouthfuls, covering his mouth when he spoke. "I'll drive you home."
She twirled the noodles around her chopsticks and nodded somewhat pensively. She could see he was reading it in her eyes, this wasn't exactly how they'd imagined tonight would go. He gave her a sympathetic smile before he took her chicken back to his desk.
When Fin hung up his phone call Elliot looked over at him. "Anything?"
He shook his head and tossed him one of the fortune cookies sitting on his desk. Olivia dropped her chopsticks just in time to catch hers as he flung it towards her. She never could wait until the end of the meal, just unwrapped it and snapped it in half. She munched on half the cookie as she slid the small piece of paper out of the other.
Patience is a virtue.
Her face broke into a hearty smile as she tossed it quickly into the trash hoping no one caught the amusement evident on her face.
Her eyes wandered across to Elliot to find him staring at her as he cracked his cookie between his teeth. She jumped as her phone lit up next to her and there was a text message from Elliot.
Difficult situations inspire ingenious solutions.
She snorted before she could help herself and Fin looked over at her curiously before she brushed him off and went back to her dinner.
Forty minutes later Cragen called it a night.
They hit the third red light when Elliot broke the silence.
"So are you going to tell me what it said?" he asked curiously.
It took her a small moment to realize what he was referring too and she shook her head biting back her smile. "I don't remember."
He chuckled. "Liar."
He hadn't bought it but he was letting her off the hook for the time being.
When they came to a stop in front of the fourth red light he exhaled sharply into the car and let his hand fall down to the hand break between them, just resting there.
"So you think I'm a six huh?" he said with a hint of offence.
She smiled at the thought that he had been mulling on thatall night.
"Just trying to throw them off the scent," she said as the light flicked green.
He chuckled. "Well you might have to flirt with Fin a little tomorrow because it would seem that he is onto us," Elliot confirmed.
She shifted a little in her seat.
"I wasn't flirting with you," she tried not to sound defensive and after a few moments of uncomfortable silence she broke the tension. "You'll know when I'm flirting with you."
Elliot cleared his throat.
"That a promise?"
He pulled up in front of her stoop and turned off the engine and she looked across at him unable to hide the surprise from what that had insinuated.
"Don't get any ideas Benson, I'm just walking you to your door," he said unclipping his seatbelt and opening the car door.
She swallowed the disappointment and unclipped her own belt exiting the car. She still had her dress and heels on and had it not been for the incessant phone calls she would have changed at the precinct.
As he followed her up the stairs she felt his eyes on her the entire way. She'd almost wished he'd gone up first so she'd be the one with the complimentary view. As they reached her front door she paused, not hunting for her keys right away and he just watched her, waiting for her to break the silence.
"Well thanks for a great night," she said sarcastically raking a hand through her hair somewhat nervously.
He smiled. "Yeah we'll have to do it again sometime," he played along.
A few moments of tension filled silence weaved between them and he looked as if he were about to walk away.
"I have beer," she said a little too quickly. "I mean if you want... you can come in for one?"
He laughed then a little too loudly and took a step towards her. "Is this you flirting Liv because you suck at it?" he whispered.
She didn't have time for a comeback or any attempt at a response because his hand had come up seizing her cheek bringing her mouth up to his. He kissed her gently, pressing his lips against hers for a few beats before he parted them with his, bringing her lower lip between his and gently sucking. Her eyes drifted to a close as he raked his other hand through her hair and opened her mouth with his, sliding his tongue into her depths and dragging it lightly across hers. When she slid an arm around his neck intending on deepening the kiss he pulled his lips away and looked into her questioning eyes.
"Come in El," she said softly before he had the chance to refuse.
He broke the eye contact and swiped his thumb softly against her cheek sending chills throughout her body. He looked as if he were contemplating her offer and mulling over his response when finally she saw his lips turn upward into a small smile.
"Patience is a virtue," he told her softly.
The son of a bitch must have checked her trash.
The next three days were bedlam.
Any thoughts of their smiling filled fortune cookie evening was now just a distant memory.
A third child had been taken by Hank Moore and this time they managed to make it to her before she ended up in a body bag. Olivia was silently coaxing her with her actions from the side of the abandoned cabin while Bennett attempted to talk the gunman down. It had been a risk but they knew how dangerous Moore was and how little hesitation he had at ending a child's life. There was no soul, no remorse, he was a pure psychopath.
She had a decent chance, Moore had his back turned to the child and all she had to do was take the five or so steps towards Olivia and they'd be home free.
The floorboard creaked on the fourth step and the bullet ripped through the little girl faster than Olivia could train her weapon.
A millisecond later Bennett's bullet had punctured Moore's neck killing him instantly but where was the justice in that? Emily had been tortured for three days and he gets to rot in Hell instead of prison.
Olivia took it out on Bennett. Hard.
You should have taken the shot sooner!
Elliot would have.
When she got back to her apartment she knew she owed Bennett an apology, she was taking out her own careless judgment on him in hindsight, she should have double-teamed Moore with Bennett, two weapons against one would have had more chance of success. This would have been something Elliot and she would have communicated without words but instead she panicked and tried to remove the girl from the situation instead of join it.
The gunshot had propelled Emily that final step closer until she fell into Olivia's open arms, the warm blood soaked into Olivia's shirt as she felt her life evaporate.
She didn't go back to the precinct, she went straight to her apartment, stripped off her blood soaked clothes and let the water from the shower pound down on her as she sunk into the bath. She gripped onto her legs, rested her head against her knees and stayed like that until the water ran cold.
All she saw now was that last moment of hope in Emily's eyes at the thought that her nightmare was finally over. Now Bennett would have to inform her parents that she was never coming home.
Emily had been Calvin's age.
She hadn't heard her phone buzz from the living room and she hadn't heard him knock on her front door.
The water was so loud she didn't even hear him call out through the bathroom door but he was here and suddenly the ice-cold water above her was being shut off. She kept her face down and hugged her knees tightly as the remnants of frozen water cascaded down her body.
"Jesus." She heard his voice echo against the walls of her bathroom but she didn't look up. She felt the towel drape around her shoulders and hadn't realized how cold she was until now.
"You must be freezing." Elliot's hands rubbed up and down her back and she hated that he was here, witnessing her at her worst - again. He tried to get her to move out of the tub but she was immobilized.
I can't fucking do this anymore,she wanted to scream.
The tears had started again, or maybe they never stopped and the water had only disguised them. She was now sobbing, almost struggling to breathe against her knees.
"Liv," he tried, kneeling down in front of the bath.
She didn't want him here, she couldn't handle his pity and maybe if she just ignored him he would go away. She tried to imagine what he was witnessing, a crying, shaking, naked mess. She hugged her legs tighter silently thankful that her body was for the most part covered.
"Please go Elliot," she said unsteadily, her words echoing through the cocoon she had made with her body. She didn't want him to see her like this, with all of her strength completely shattered.
"Liv, that water was ice-cold," he told her grasping her upper arms and doing his best to heave her into a standing position but she resisted, still clinging onto her stance. "Please, you're going to get sick," he tried.
A few moments ticked by, her teeth were now chattering and she knew she would have to move soon. Slowly she started to stand up, modesty be damned, but when she got to her feet he had turned his face giving her a chance to cover up with the towel.
When he could see the towel was wrapped around her chest he turned back to her with an outstretched hand. She took it and wobbled uneasily as she stepped out of the bath and he steadied her until she was out.
She saw the blood stained clothing piled on the floor beneath their feet and Elliot followed her eye line. She bit into her quivering lip trying to block out the image of Emily's misguided hope and Elliot reached out smoothing a hand over her shoulder.
"It'll be ok Liv," he whispered and she narrowed her eyes at him, yanking herself away from his touch.
How the hell would you know?
She left him in the bathroom, made her way into the bedroom and just stared at her bed trying to figure out what she was supposed to do next. She was still shaking on her feet, all she wanted was to curl up in the warmth but she couldn't seem to get her body to move.
She could hear Elliot behind her, opening her dresser drawers one after another. Moments later she felt an article of clothing move over her head and suddenly she was sporting an oversized tee-shirt she hadn't worn in years. He tugged the towel down, careful to ensure the material of the shirt was covering her, midway down her thighs
"Elliot, I want you to leave," she said vacantly still staring at her bed. She knew she wouldn't be sleeping tonight but she wanted to be alone, in privacy with her thoughts and her tears.
She wanted to finish off the rest of that scotch.
He wasn't leaving and she was trying unsuccessfully to rein in her anger at who exactly he thought he was coming into her home like this. He wasn't her partner anymore, he hadn't been there tonight, he had no right.
"Go," she said through gritted teeth finally turning to face him and he just stared ahead at her tear stained face that she was sure was red and blotchy at this point.
He did what he did best – ignored her.
He moved toward her bed and pulled down the comforter and sheets and instead of reacting to his blatant refusal she just left him in the bedroom and made a beeline for the kitchen.
When he came out she had just poured herself a nip of scotch and was lifting it to her lips. He didn't stop her, just watched her from the threshold of her kitchen as she tilted the glass and let the dark liquid slide down her throat in one motion.
She put the empty glass down on the counter and exhaled sharply. A few moments passed before she lifted the bottle to pour a second. He moved in then and stealthily seized the bottle from her grasp and held it definitively in his possession just looking at the side of her face.
"When did this start?" he asked her and his voice was gravelly, pained almost.
When you fucked me in an alley.
But she wasn't that much of a bitch so she remained silent. The scotch had relaxed her already and she hated herself for it, this wasn't her, this wasn't how she dealt with pain.
She wasn't her mother.
When she didn't answer him or even look in his direction, he moved over to the sink and drained the remainder of the bottle before putting it in her trash. When he came back to her, he encircled her forearm gently.
"Come on," he said as soothingly as he could muster and somehow, her feet managed to spring into action and she let him lead her back to the bedroom.
When they made it to her bed he turned to face her and watched as she raked a shaky hand through her wet hair, reminding her just how freezing she was. He didn't have to urge her because she was climbing under the covers already and pulling the blankets up to her chin. She tried to settle into the warmth but the fresh blankets would need to adjust to her body before the cold dissipated.
"It's cold," she exhaled and she rubbed her hands together under the blankets. He moved her damp hair out of her face and the warmth of his fingers gave her chills.
When she opened her eyes again, he was back at her dresser fishing for more items. He came over to her with a pullover, some pajama pants and underwear and began tugging down her blanket. She reached out her hand and smoothed it around his wrist.
"No…you," she said quietly and he stilled his motions unsure at first of what she meant, once it clicked he exhaled.
"Liv-" he began uneasily, realizing just what she was implying.
"Please," she whispered not caring how needy and pathetic this would make her look in his eyes. She watched him swallow and drop his arm from her grasp and she did her best to hold it together, trying not to fathom what it would do to her if he walked away now.
"Put on the clothes first," he said softly and she watched as he removed his leather jacket, the relief of that one action making her immediately soften.
She reached over to the pile of clothes he'd just delivered and slid the panties on underneath the sheets. She watched as he moved to the other side of her bed, toed off his shoes and hesitantly unzipped his pants.
She put her arms into the pullover and slunk it over her head. As she felt the mattress dip, her stomach dropped at the realization that he was in her bed. The pajama pants fell onto the floor but she didn't care, soon she would have the warmth she needed.
She lay on her side as he scooted closer to her somewhat cautiously and stopped just short of her body. She could sense his hesitation of actually touching her so she backed up a little until his chest met her back. She closed her eyes at the contact and exhaled when his hand came up and ran up and down her arm attempting to warm her up. His breath was heating the back of her neck and her tears had long since dried. It was then that she realized she hadn't thought about Emily for a whole five minutes.
"Why Liv?" he whispered into the back of her hair and she knew what he meant.
Why this case out of all of them did she break?
Because my partner wasn't there.
Her eyes were still closed and she didn't answer him, she wasn't going to admit that she was only half the detective now without him. Her head was pounding from the tears and the exhaustion and she didn't want to even entertain the possibility that if Elliot were still her partner, Emily could still be alive. The truth remained however that they had selfishly chosen each other over the job - again.
She wanted her partner back so badly it killed her.
The tears began to spill again and suddenly she didn't want him touching her anymore because he would be able to feel the sobs wracking through her body as she tried unsuccessfully to stifle them.
She began to shimmy out of his grasp but his arm moved around her waist and he pulled her back against him, spooning her flush against his body. She covered her face with her hands and muffled her cries as best she could. His nose nestled into the back of her wet locks and he held her close.
"I know Liv," he whispered.
He thought she was crying for Emily, but she was crying for them.
She woke up with a start, blinking against the darkness and for a moment she didn't know where she was.
She had dreamt of Emily, of those eyes, of Hank Moore, and yelling at Bennett.
She was coating the side of his hard body as he lay on his back, her bare leg lodged between his, her arm draped across his chest. Her pullover and tee-shirt had ridden up to her waist and she could feel the cotton of his boxer shorts against her panties, her heart accelerated at the thought. An arm was around her, his palm flattened on her lower back and she took a few moments to register just how strange it felt to wake up tangled against Elliot Stabler.
They've already had sex, something she still couldn't fathom as a reality because it had all happened so fast. There was no bed, no spooning, no sweet nothings – just a good hard fuck up against a brick wall before she walked away. They hadn't even seen each other naked.
This was different. This was intense, intimate and downright petrifying. She would smell him in her sheets when he left in the morning and her bed would never be the same again.
She was trying to rein in her breaths because her chest was expanding against his so rapidly now she was scared she would wake him. She shifted ever so slightly intending on extracting herself from his form when his hand slid down her lower back, his fingers grazing the lace of her panties at her backside.
She bit into her lip, remaining perfectly still as his hand rested against her practically cupping her ass cheek. He was still asleep, she could tell by the steady rise and fall of his chest and she knew she should move but her body was suddenly immobilized. She was now all too aware of his thigh between her legs and the heat building within her.
Her hand that was splayed on his chest moved slowly across the plains of his muscles over his tee-shirt and softly back again. She reveled in the way he felt underneath her palm, so firm, so muscular, so masculine.
Her hand drifted lower, seeking the hem and without thinking she let her palm slip under the material and retrace her steps. She had been denied this in the alley, among other things, so she was going to take this opportunity to explore his naked chest.
Her hand roamed up and over his pecs, across his collarbone and down his breastbone until she reached the small patch of hair on his chest. She traced lazy figure eights across the crux of his chest just wishing he had taken his shirt off before he got into her bed. She exhaled into his neck and continued her path until her palm was running over his abdomen and stopping as it reached the trail of hair below his belly button. She then retraced her path, repeating the action at a devastatingly slow pace sending shivers throughout her body. She tried to ignore the ache between her legs and the muscle of his thigh pressing directly against her core. When her hand found its way back to the dip of his pelvis, she wanted nothing more than to move lower. Over the front of his boxers, between his legs, down his thick muscular thighs and back up again, until her hand was sliding up the hem of his boxers and seizing him between his legs.
Fuck.
Instead she let her fingers lazily trail the waistband of his boxers, trying to moisten her dry mouth and calm her heart rate down. He was asleep goddamn it and she was feeling him up.
As her hands gripped daringly on the waistband of his boxers she felt his fingers twitch against her ass and she froze, thinking maybe he had woken. When she realized he had stilled again she let out the breath she was holding.
She started up her feather light touches once more, this time running her hand up the side of his torso, taking his shirt upward in the motion. Her slender fingers found their way to his bicep and she closed her eyes at the strength she felt beneath her grasp. She loved his arms, there was nothing more intense than when he would grasp her upper arm out of sheer frustration and she could feel the strength radiating from his fingertips.
Her hands were moving to his thighs now and she didn't care about boundaries at this point as she slid beneath the blanket that cocooned them. She rubbed up and down the bulky muscle of his thigh, feeling the soft hairs tickle her hand and she held her breath as she let her hand move higher up his inner thigh. Her hand slipped beneath the hem of his boxer leg and she stopped just short, careful not to touch anything other than his thigh. Her thumb swiped lazily back and forth and she closed her eyes wanting to commit this to memory.
She felt his thigh twitch suddenly under her grasp and she stilled her hand just waiting to see if she was about to be caught red handed. His other thigh, the one between her legs moved upward suddenly rocking a flood of pleasure through her groin. She groaned before she could stop herself and she felt his fingers tense against her ass.
He was awake.
She could feel his breathing change beneath her and her hand was still half way up his boxer leg. She closed her eyes, maybe she could pretend she was still asleep but he was already moving his hand down encircling her wrist. She let him move her hand out from under the blanket and his head lolled downward towards her.
"Liv," he whispered and her heart rate bolted into a frenzy at the thought that he was going to call her on it. "Liv, you gotta move," he told her and she remained still, wishing this didn't have to end just yet.
When she didn't comply she felt his hand come down and grasp her hip intending to gently tip her off his leg but he stilled when he touched the lace material of her panties and not her pajama pants. Her tee-shirt and pullover were still bunched around her waist and all she could concentrate on was the fact that he hadn't retracted her hand from her hip yet.
She could feel his chest rising steadily beneath her at the contact and she let her hand skim up and underneath his tee-shirt once more. He did his best to relax against her touch as she lazily traced the plains of his chest. She felt him try and steady his breathing below her and then it was as if time stood still when she let her hand slowly move down the centre of his chest, across his stomach and over his hardened cock. Her breath caught in surprise and he groaned as she moved across the material of his boxers. He pulled her wrist quickly away and used his body to roll her to the side. She slumped off him falling onto her back and he sunk back down into the mattress, rubbing a hand over his face.
"Olivia." Her name was muffled against the palm of his hand and he sounded all kinds of pissed at her.
The silence was overbearing as she lay there listening to the ragged breaths he was omitting, trying to figure out if she could fix this. She shouldn't have pushed her luck so soon.
"You need..." he started slowly and she held her breath. "You need to get some sleep."
She closed her eyes. That was the last thing she needed. The ache between her legs wasn't going away and she had a feeling the throbbing between his wouldn't either.
She knew this wasn't why he came here and wasn't how he pictured tonight would go but she needed him - tonight of all nights. She didn't care about the dates, the flowers, the candy, shouting over the top professions of love in the pouring rain. That was the unrealistic crap you'd only see in the movies or at least not in their world. She just cared about him and being with him in whatever shape or form that came in and tonight she needed him to take the pain away. The restraint within her finally lifted.
"That's not what I need," she whispered into the darkness. Her voice had been thick and her seriousness had been evident.
He didn't respond. He had created enough space between them so they were no longer touching but she could still feel the heat radiating only inches away. She knew the internal struggle his mind and body would be having right now but she wanted him to decide this for himself so she didn't push him.
She could easily move her hand across and touch the first thing she could secure but decided she wouldn't use her hands or her body to convince him - just her words.
"El," she whispered and she could feel the tension radiating from beside her as she said it. "I need you to touch me."
She knew it was wrong, she knew her words would trump any feeble excuse he had to deny her. He would do anything to make her feel better, to take the pain away and it just so happened that she required his hands on her tonight. He still hadn't answered and she was sticking to her guns by not reaching out herself because she needed him to take that step.
"Liv." She heard the pain in her name and felt incredibly guilty for causing him this much anguish. He'd felt like shit after he lost control and took her up against the alley wall and here she was, a broken mess, begging him to cross another line and take advantage of her fragility. But this was different she wanted to tell him, this was her losing the control, not him and because she could never overpower him with her physical strength, she did so with her words.
"Please El," she whispered and she knew with that one plea she had sealed their fate. She wasn't one to beg, or plead or wallow and he knew how hard that would have been for her.
She counted the heartbeats slamming in her chest and had made it to about seventeen when she felt him finally shift beside her. She closed her eyes and lay as still as possible as he shifted his weight onto his side. He inched ever so closer until she felt his chest brush her arm that remained flat by her side. She tried to swallow, steady her breathing, to calm the fuck down but couldn't seem to manage any one of them.
She heard his hand rustle against the blanket and felt him tugging it downward until it reached her hips. The cold night air hit the exposed skin of her abdomen and she shivered, her nipples hardening under layers of clothing. When she felt his palm descend tenderly on her stomach she jumped slightly underneath his touch. He left his hand there waiting for her to settle against him but she couldn't seem to manage to stop her body from trembling. If her intention was not to scare him off she wasn't doing a very good job because she could practically taste his uncertainty. His hand slipped off her abdomen and the disappointment hit her hard as she waited, unable to find her voice or her nerve.
She felt the pillow bow softly next to her as his face sunk down beside hers, he was close and she could feel the light breaths against the side of her cheek. Her eyes were still closed when he moved his hand back to her stomach and she didn't flinch this time. He trailed his fingers back and forth across her skin, slowly inching up further until they were running over her ribs and then back down again. She had a steady grasp on her breathing for the moment as he teased her skin with his coarse fingers. When they slid down the side of her torso her body erupted in goosebumps and she jolted at the mixture of pleasure and tickle. He stilled his hand just below her breasts and started to trace lazy figure of eights. Her stomach dropped suddenly at the realization that he must have been awake when she did that to him.
She felt her cheeks ignite from embarrassment but the feeling was soon lost when he started to thumb the soft underside of her breast. He moved his fingers back and forth against the base of the mound careful not to go any higher, her nipples tightening painfully under the layers.
He had barely touched her that night in the alley and right now all she wanted was for him to go higher and encircle her breast, tease her nipple, grasp her but he was retracting his hand and moving it back towards her stomach.
She felt his pinky skim the waistband of her panties and her breath hitched. He traced the perimeter and she tried not to react as his thumb rubbed over her hipbone before moving over the muscle of her upper thigh. She tensed beneath him as he squeezed it and her legs couldn't help but absently part. Her thigh knocked against his side and he took the opportunity to move across her inner thigh, thumbing the soft skin just below her panties. This was excruciating, the ache between her legs was throbbing and she wanted so desperately to move her lower half further down until he was touching her.
As his hand moved higher his finger hit the seam of her panties and he trailed the lace at the side careful not to brush against her directly. Her breathing deepened in anticipation and she was slowly losing her patience.
His hand started to retreat then and she felt it back on her stomach and sliding up north. She was moments from opening her mouth in complaint when she felt his hand run firmly across her bare breast and squeezed it beneath his palm. A noise at the back of her throat escaped her as he dragged his thumb across her nipple and it hit her hard between her legs, a rush of wetness pooling as he teased her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He squeezed, tweaked and flicked the hardened nub and her hips bucked at the sensation.
He moved his hand then, until they were sliding up her breast bone, over her chest and ended up around her neck. His fingers splayed across her collarbones until they found their way back to her other breast. He turned his hand over, rubbing his knuckles playfully over her breast, teasing her nipple, capturing it between his fingers and pinching, hard.
"Fuck." It had escaped her without a thought and she realized she had said it out loud. He flipped his hand over and squeezed her breast in response.
She was getting beyond impatient now and her legs were pushing into the side of his body urging him to move downward and touch her between her legs. His head moved in closer until his lips were in line with her ear and she held her breath at what he was about to say to her.
"We need to get something straight," he whispered, his breath ragged and her heart thumped incessantly at the seriousness in his voice. His hand was laying idol on her breast and she waded through the silence just waiting for him to continue because right now she couldn't form words.
"You asked me to touch you," he reminded her and she got chills at the words, unsure as to where he was going with this. "That's all I'm doing tonight," he whispered into her neck and she took a minute to register just what he was implying.
His hands. That's all she was getting tonight, not his mouth, his lips, his tongue or his throbbing cock.
She was about to react to his words because the anger was slowly seeping it's way into her system when his hand moved off her breast and grasped the muscle of her inner thigh yanking her body an inch or so down the bed so he had better access to her body. Her head had fallen off the pillow and he was looking down at her in the darkness. Her eyes had adjusted somewhat and she could see he was resting his head on his hand that was bent at the elbow.
She wanted to rebut, tell him she didn't agree with his ridiculous terms but his hand had already started it's ascent up her thigh and at that point she didn't really care if it meant him finally touching her between her legs.
As he made it millimetres away from his destination he grasped the muscle of her inner thigh and squeezed, causing a weak noise to escape her mouth at the sudden motion. She could feel his thumb and index finger bordering her panties he was that close.
She thought about the underwear she was wearing, they were lavender, lace and rode low on her hips and high up her ass cheeks. She wondered if he'd picked them out purposefully or if they had just been the first pair he could find. It didn't matter now she concluded because his fingers were twitching against her and she braced herself for his next move. Her mouth parted when they moved the small distance and brushed against the lace covering her core.
She felt the puffs of air against her neck increase as his fingers located the wetness against her panties and began to run slowly up and down her opening. Her chest was rising and falling by the second and when he pushed two fingers at her entrance through the damp material she bunched the sheets beneath her in fists letting out the ragged breath she was holding.
He released the pressure at her entrance and moved his hand off her completely, grasping her thigh and dragging it closer to his body, spreading her legs further in the process. He was back between her legs before she knew it and was cupping her through the material, gently rocking his hand against her and it took everything not to grind herself against him in response. His thumb located her clit and thumbed across it repetitively, the lace scraping against her sensitive nub and she called out, incidentally jerking her leg into his shin in the process.
That's it; she wanted him inside her in some way shape or form. His hands, his tongue, his cock, she didn't care. She didn't even care that her top half was restricted with layer upon layer, all she cared about was the overbearing ache between her legs and she wanted him inside her now.
She raised her hips, giving in and moving herself slowly against his hand, urging him to slip between the material and he matched her motion, rubbing his hand in time with her movements causing an unbearable friction. He still wasn't moving inside the material, despite the dampness he'd be encountering and she wanted to tell him he was killing her right now but he already knew.
He was waiting for her, she knew, for encouragement, to tell him to touch her, finger her, move his hand inside her panties and somehow miraculously she got her voice to work.
"El," she said in a breath and his hand stilled against her panties and she counted the breaths that passed between them. She felt the tension straining from him at the thought that she was going to stop this. Her heart was slamming against her chest at the possibility that if she said the wrong thing she could be left with this never ending ache. She let her head roll slightly until her nose was grazing his shirt. "Please," she whispered, her voice a mixture of immense agony and arousal.
His lips sought out the crown of her head and she heard him inhale her scent and after a few agonizing moments his hand started to move against her once more. He was still cupping her as a stray finger found itself slipping under the material from the side of her panties. When it swiped across the dampness she exhaled as he simultaneously groaned into her hair at what he had found. It was the hottest sound she'd ever heard.
He let his finger trail the juices and she almost felt embarrassed at how damn wet she must be but she couldn't move, or breathe or think right now. Suddenly she wanted to be naked; she wanted her clothes off, her panties off and his hand exactly where it was but she knew what he was doing. He was keeping this as innocent as possible; he didn't want temptation from her skin, her breasts. No lights, no desire filled looks, just his hand between her legs taking the ache away in more ways than one.
As he moved higher up her panties, she was sure her body was shaking. She wanted something to hold onto, something to make this feel real and not just a dream. If she moved her right hand she would likely come in contact with his penis so instead she moved her left hand above her head until she located his arm holding up his head. She encircled his wrist and without much resistance he dropped his arm and let her tug it towards her, intertwining her fingers with his. His head dropped down so his lips were practically skimming her temple as he moved his hand inside the entrance to her panties and across her completely.
She gasped a little at the contact and melted as two fingers parted her, dipping into the moisture. He ran his fingers across her at an excruciatingly slow pace and she tried to refrain from bucking against him. When they ran over her clit she absentmindedly squeezed his hand as the shudder of pleasure coursed through her. He hadn't even penetrated and the pleasure was building by the second. She didn't want this to be over, she never wanted this to end so she tried in vain to block out the stimulation his fingers were causing.
She could feel the breaths against her temple matched by the rise and fall of her chest and her hips were slowly starting to rock against him as his fingers traced her entrance. A noise ripped through her larynx as he slid a finger inside her and his lips crashed into her temple.
"Olivia," he rasped sending shivers coursing through her body. She spread her legs just a little further and he slid in a second finger causing her to choke on a moan as his thick fingers began to fill her, stretching her walls. He slid them half way inside her before retracting partway and gently sliding back in. The second time he managed to fill her completely and she whimpered as the base of his palm came flush up against her clit.
Her hips reacted then and she knew this was all about to come to an earth-shattering end, but she didn't care. She needed this release, she needed to come against Elliot in the safety of his arms and not a random alley. She'd never considered herself to be a needy person, she'd done a bang up job navigating through life without any of that co-dependency bullshit but right now in this moment she understood what it was like to need someone so badly it could kill her.
His fingers curled inside her walls and her left hand reached out and grasped whatever she could find, seizing the hem of his tee-shirt and bunching it into her fist, tugging him ever so closer. She was rocking her lower half against him now and she could hear the panting in her ear as he increased the pressure, holding her lower half firmly into the mattress as she ground upward against his hand.
She wanted to tell him she was close, that at any moment he would have her spiraling over the edge but she didn't have to as his thumb had sought out her clit. He rubbed back and forth, once, twice, three times until she yelled out the start of his name overpowered by a moan. Her walls clenched around him and her body quivered relentlessly against him. He held her tight as she writhed against his touch and whimpered as the last throb of her orgasm contracted around his fingers.
Fuck.
His breath was heavy in her ear as he slowed down his motions, letting her come back down to earth. As her breaths started to taper down he slowly slid out of her and she winced at the mixture of sensitivity and coolness of the air that hit her between her legs. She couldn't move, her whole body lay motionless against the mattress and she felt unbelievably exhausted. She finally managed to slowly release his shirt that she'd captured between her fist but wasn't ready to let his hand between her fingers go just yet. She could feel the perspiration between their palms at how tightly she had clung to him.
His lips found her temple and he pressed them against her for a few passing moments until he released his lips. She felt him start to move his hand out of their clasp and her eyebrows drew together in confusion as she felt him start to pull away. She felt the mattress shifting beneath her, bobbing and rocking until it was clear he had moved out of the bed.
She wanted to ask him if he was ok, what he was doing but she'd been beyond needy tonight and needed to get a hold of herself. If he was going to walk out or walk away, she needed to be ready for it because the more comfortable she got with him, the harder it would be to watch him go.
He moved through the darkness towards her bathroom and when she heard the bathroom door click shut behind him she let out the breath she was holding. She tried not to read into it, she tried not to let the surge of panic marinate, that he was already regretting it and would leave her tonight. She wasn't going to get out of the bed, follow him to the door, tap on it lightly and ask him if he was okay.
She just closed her eyes and tried to relax.
For a good while she didn't hear anything at all and that only heightened her anxiety, then minutes later she heard the faucet some shuffling, the toilet flushed and then more silence. She shook her head. Did he not realize this was killing her? She was trying not to get angry but every minute that passed was making it increasingly harder.
She sighed into the night and decided she'd ignore it, if he was going to leave then she certainly wasn't going to lie there and watch him. She rolled onto her side so she was no longer facing the bathroom door and pulled up the covers, hugging them tightly around her. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, willing sleep to take over so she wouldn't have to be presented with Elliot's departure.
She wondered what time it was, it had to be around three or four am because it was still dark out. They barely had any sleep and it wouldn't be long before they both had to be at work, maybe Elliot leaving wasn't such a bad idea after all.
She finally heard the door to her bathroom open and the light splayed irritatingly into her eyes, so she squeezed them shut. She could feel him hesitate only briefly before she heard the light flick off and he was moving towards her bed. She felt the bed dip again as he started to climb under the covers and she wanted to lash out then, ask him just what he thought he was doing but somehow she managed to keep still and just waited him out.
He didn't reach out, he didn't touch her, or spoon her, or move closer to her, he just laid flat on his back at least a body length away and she listened to the rise and fall of his breathing. His mind was ticking over, she knew it, the regret, the embarrassment, the discomfort. Her eyes narrowed in the darkness - if he was staying on her account then she didn't need any goddamn favors.
"Just go Elliot," she let the bitter words escape before she could help herself and she could no longer hear the rise and fall of his chest. The unyielding seconds ticked by as she anxiously waited his response.
"Are you kidding me?" he sounded pissed as all hell and her heart rate inclined at the audacity hehad to be the angry one. She turned then, a prompt 180 and she was facing him in the dark, barely able to make out his features after the bathroom light threw her off.
"You don't have to feel like you owe me anything okay," she told him directly trying desperately to keep the hurt from her words and focus solely on the emotion of anger.
"What the hellare you talking about?" he stabbed back defensively.
"You completing your duty Elliot and then wanting an out," she responded in a rush. "Well here it is - I think you should leave."
He reached out then, between the sheets and seized the first thing he could locate - her wrist. He yanked her the body length across to him until she practically rammed into his chest, his face inches away. She tried to pull away from him, twist out of his grasp but he had her tight.
"What are you doing?" he whispered in her ear and she felt incredibly overwhelmed, the strength of his grasp poles apart from the weakness in his words.
She felt badly then, maybe she had misread him but he was the one who distanced himself from her in the first instance. She felt ridiculous, what was she supposed to say now? You just gave me the most intense orgasm of my life and I thought you were leaving?
"I'm sorry," she whispered quickly and his grip on her wrist eased up but he wasn't letting her off the hook completely.
She could feel him close, in the dark and she wished she could see at least the outline of his face because being unable to read his expression was beyond alarming. He wasn't answering her or accepting her apology and appeared to be waiting for an explanation.
"I thought-" she started and then promptly stopped herself before she sounded like a crazed nutcase. A few moments passed before she bowed her head in embarrassment. "Forget it."
"Tell me." His voice had been gentle but his words were a demand and at that point she was the one who wanted answers.
"What were you doing in the bathroom?" she asked him quietly and his grip on her wrist relaxed to the point where she could slip it out. She remained sitting up, staring across in the darkness, his features slowly coming to light in front of her.
"Would you just tell me what's going on?" Elliot exhaled, sounding physically and emotionally exhausted.
Her body caved into the awkwardness and she slunk back down onto the pillow, dragging a hand over her face. She wished he would just forget the whole thing and let her sleep but she knew she'd have no chance.
"What am I supposed to think when you lock yourself in the bathroom for ten minutes Elliot?" she said with irritation.
A few moments of silence passed and she could sense the confusion radiating from Elliot. Man he was dim.
"That you regretted it, that you were trying to figure out a way to leave without offending me, that it shouldn't have happened that way," she quoted him word for word.
She heard him sigh and drop his body down to hers. He remained silent, each painstaking minute that passed made her think she'd hit the nail on the head because he wasn't telling her any different. Moments from lashing out she heard a quiet chuckle escape from his mouth and her eyes went wide.
"What the hell is so funny?" she yelled and felt a hand come down seeking out hers, attempting to intertwine their fingers but she pulled away. He continued to chuckle and she lost it, her hand moving across and whacking him against the chest. "I'm not crazy," she continued her rant. "Then you lay miles away from me - what am I supposed to think?"
His chuckles increased and she was ready to really lose it when he killed the laughter suddenly and rolled over so he was coating the side of her as she lay on her back.
"Olivia," he began and she tried not to react to the tone of his voice and the use of her full name. "I dismissed myself to…" his words drifted off and suddenly it hit her before he even had to finish. "Calm my situation down south so we could both get some sleep."
Now she felt like the dim one.
She wasn't exactly sure how to take that. He didn't want her touching him tonight and didn't appear to need the same release that she did.
"I told you what tonight was about," he reiterated before she could read too much into it and she let her head loll to the side until it made contact with his, suddenly she felt incredibly ridiculous.
"I wanted to touch you," she said slowly, almost angry at him for taking away that privilege.
His lips found their way to her neck and he brushed them against her causing her to jolt at the ticklish sensation it developed.
"You have no idea how much..." he let his words trail off before he said too much and she could tell he was still struggling with restraining himself.
"El, this is stupid, just let me-" she rolled over then, her hand grazing his abdomen descending towards his boxers and he gripped her wrists before she made it far.
"Don't Liv," he said seriously. "I have just spent ten minutes calming myself down."
A smile broke over her face then as the thought occurred to her that maybe calming himself downwas a euphemism. She thought back to the running water, the flushing toilet, perhaps methods of potential concealment.
It was her turn to chuckle then.
"What?" he said with a smile in his voice as she pulled her hand away and rolled onto her side, her back to him. She tried to stifle the amusement but it just kept coming, the muffled laughs racking through her shoulders. He grasped her around the waist and pulled her against him, purposefully keeping his lower half away from her backside. "What's so funny?" he shook her gently as she continued her protest of silence.
"Nothing," she dismissed him, the smile still plastered on her face.
She had visions of Elliot standing in her bathroom touching himself and it was the hottest thing she'd ever pictured. It dawned on her that she didn't want confirmation on what exactly happened in the bathroom, she would just let the fantasy remain as is.
"Night El," she whispered with a chuckle and surprisingly he didn't push the matter any further and she had a feeling she knew why.
TBC
