Undercover fake dating.


Her skin was slick and warm underneath his hands, sweet and pulsing underneath his lips as they moved down her neck. She angled her head, offering up more vulnerable skin, and his heart fluttered, getting lost in the sensation of holding her so close as water gently rocked against their bodies.

Her lips and breath against his ear sent a tingle down his spine, then she whispered, "They are using some kind of sign language."

He froze for a second, realized she hadn't offered anything up and had simply wanted to get a better look at the suspected buyer. It wasn't the first time he had gotten caught up in his undercover role as a newlywed. If he couldn't find a way to keep his head in the game the whole operation could be a bust.

Placing a few more kisses on her neck, he glanced at Petty Officer Smith who appeared to be reading a book. He squinted from behind aviator glasses and ran his fingers through Ziva's wet curls absentmindedly, as he tracked Smith's every move.

Water droplets on her shoulder begged for his attention. As his mind battled between indulging his desires and concentrating on the job at hand, his mouth twitched upwards.

"This is one undercover op I don't mind dragging out," he murmured into her ear, before making eye contact. "Five-star hotel, swimming pool, balmy weather, a beautiful woman."

She raised an eyebrow, and he quickly glanced around, keeping half an eye on Smith while she observed the buyer at the opposite side of the pool. "I meant women, plural," he quickly covered.

Touching her lips to his, she murmured, "You have barely looked at any woman since our arrival."

Smith once again all but forgotten at the lightest touch of her lips, he grinned and said, "It's not professional to look at other women in the middle of a make-out session."

Her throaty laughter made his knees weak. He cupped her face, the glint of his gold wedding band reminding him none of this was real. None of it except how she made him feel.

She scoffed lightly. "I don't think I made out this much with Ray the whole time we were together."

The subject of Ray had always given him mixed feelings. He focused on the petty officer in the lounge chair, wondering how to react. "Ah, the downside of a long-distance relationship with a scheming CIA operative, not enough canoodling."

Her lack of reaction drew his attention; maybe she got lost in translation, again. The wistful look on her face told him differently. "Any complaints about the undercover canoodling?" He asked lightly, hoping to take her mind of the past.

Her gaze ping ponged between him and the buyer, and she began to fidget, drumming her fingers on his triceps. "No."

The way her brows pulled in it was obvious there was more to it. "But?"

She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. "It is…distracting."

"That good or bad?" He knew the professional answer, he was hoping for a personal one.

"Being distracted on the job is never good, Tony," she chided gently. The conviction in her voice didn't match the warmth in her eyes. "Perhaps we should talk about…this, some time."

She glanced at the suspect, then shifted her gaze back to him. His eyes wandered to her mouth as her arms snaked around his neck. "When the job is done," she murmured against his lips.

His hands slipped down to cup her behind and pull her against him, as his mouth claimed hers and he let go of the desire he had been struggling to keep in check. There was nothing fake about the way she kissed him back with abandon.

When his hips thrust against her, craving more contact, he came to his senses and broke the kiss. They couldn't afford to get this distracted again. He bit his bottom lip, finally leveling his breathing. "I can't wait for this job to be over," he said with a lewd smile.

She laughed that throaty laugh again and hugged him close, looking over his shoulder, as every nerve ending in his body tingled pleasantly. His mind drifted to all the things he wanted to do to her, while his gaze drifted to the petty officer who hadn't moved from his chair.

A disappointed sigh in his ear. "The buyer is leaving." A kiss on his cheek. "I will notify McGee."

"Yeah, let's go," he said as his hands slid up to her waist, and turned her around to walk out of the pool in front of him.

"It is just a phone call, Tony." She looked at him over her shoulder, then glanced down suggestively. "Perhaps you should swim a few laps to get rid of that extra energy."