Brace yourself, chapter 2 is here! And chapter 3 is already halfway done, so don't fret, more is on the way soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Dick Wolf and NBC does. And they should have let them bang.

"Welcome to The Swingset, I'm Suzette"

"Hi Suzette. This is my wife Olivia, I'm Elliot." Olivia leaned into Elliot, hoping to give the impression of loving wife. But was she did, her breast pressed into his right side. Elliot's face visibly hardened and his jaw clenched as he tried to focus on what Suzette was saying. He could feel her so close next to her. The dress was thin, he already knew what her bra looked like. Now with her dressed against him, he could almost feel the full weight of her breast on his bicep. Olivia mumbled something about "husband" and "Jerry" and he kept staring at Suzette like he was following the conversation. He gripped Olivia's left hand a little harder for emphasis. He wanted to be gripping that breast instead. Would it fill up his hand? Spill over? Would her nipples pebble under his palm? He was hardening just at the thought, struggling to maintain focus.

"First time experiencing the lifestyle?" Suzette questioned. The nervous giggle Olivia let out wasn't acting; this lifestyle, being in this club, what they might see, or have to do; it scared the shit out of her. Elliot glanced in her direction, giving her a tight smile of reassurance. "Is it that obvious?"

"You two are going to have a lot of fun, c'mon." Suzette laughed as she walked over to the bar. Olivia stole a quick glance at the club and Elliot stole a quick glance at her. How she suddenly looked so calm was beyond him. Because at Suzette's words his stomach dropped 3 floors. Fun? He was concerned at what that meant. To say the least.

"Elliot and I have been into each other for so long, we decided to, umm, spread our wings a little." Wow, now that's was a truth Olivia never admitted out loud. She had been into Elliot for some time. But in a way that he would never know. In a way that kept her up at night until her orgasm subsided and she scolded herself for coming to thoughts of him. Again.

A blue martini was placed in front of her by her new "friends." They weren't suppose to drink on the job, even undercover, but she was having a difficult time relaxing enough to ask the right questions. She chatted casually with her new friends about Cassandra, Jerry and Doug, trying to gather pertinent info for their case. She finally relaxed around them, sipping her martini, the time passing quickly. The feeling quickly dissipated she realized Elliot was still in the playroom with Cassandra.

"Is my husband safe with Cassandra?" Olivia questioned aloud. But secretly, she was getting worried. How far was Elliot willing to take this with Cassandra to try to keep his cover? Better yet, why did she care?

Finally she saw Elliot making his way out of the curtain from the playroom. He looked relaxed, but not too relaxed. A quick nod from him confirmed that nothing happened with Cassandra. That was all Olivia needed to crack a smile in his direction. Their silent language carried a full conversation behind it, unbeknownst to those around them. El made his way over to her, Cassandra hot on his heels, but he never lost eye contact with Olivia.

"Miss me?" He whispered toward Olivia as his hand came to rest on her lower back, right above her ass. The touch instantly burned. It seared into the flesh beneath his hand and it smoldered low into her belly. He leaned in close to her, his lips grazing the skin below her ear. The touch was so light, she almost missed it, but she could feel his warm breath on her neck. Goosebumps instantly erupted along her arms and back and she fought not to shiver against him. He's never touched her neck before. And never with his lips.

"You two are cute together." Cassandra smiled, taking her place next to Olivia and their friends at the cocktail table. "But why don't we take this over to the couches where we can all get to know each other a bit more?" She drew a finger slowly down Olivia's arm and winked.

Elliot silently strung his fingers through Olivia's as he led her over to the crushed velvet couches. Olivia could feel the perspiration gathering between then, the nervousness of the situation. They were deep in the belly of the beast now, they were gaining the trust of the club patrons. Trust that could possibly, maybe, lead to valuable information on the case.

Olivia sat to Elliot's right, their thighs barely touching. She continued to sip her martini, making sure to keep her hands occupied by holding the glass. The situation was fine at first, but giggles and jokes only last so long in a sex club. Several couples, and non-couples around them had begun to kiss, hands down dresses and up skirts. Every time things got heavier between a couple, Elliot shifted his gaze awkwardly downward, avoiding eye contact with anyone fooling around. This time as his head snapped down, his eyes landed on Olivia's long, tanned legs and he couldn't help drawing his vision upward. His eyes reached the hem of her dress, now resting higher on her thigh, and he drew his lip in, biting it and stifling a cough. Olivia absentmindedly sipped her drink, avoiding the club guests, and now Elliot, beside her. When the first "ohh right there" moaned from a couple on their left, Elliot visible stiffened. The second time, his fist clenches so tight, his knuckles turned white. The third, his jaw clenched and he stifled a frustrated moan with a cough.

At the lack of movement between the 'couple', the shift to general awkwardness, caused one of the club regulars to begin eyeing them suspiciously. "You know the first step to help you get comfortable with others here is to spice things up between you two," she quipped, a light-hearted tone in her voice.

It was true, for a married couple, Elliot and Olivia had barely had any contact, apart from a small peck on her neck. She had flinched at anyone who flirted with her and Elliot continued to scowl at every move made toward Olivia.

At those words, Elliot immediately brought his right hand up to Olivia's hair, brushing the loose strands to twist it around her ear. "We understand, don't we, honey?" His words dripped sweetness but Olivia caught the look in his eyes as quiet desperation to play along.

"What do you guys suggest? Cassandra?" Olivia looked over at the brunette, while bringing her left hand to Elliot's thigh running along the material of his suit. This was uncharted territory, unfamiliar contact. His muscles rippled beneath her fingertips and she was starting to tremble as her hand rode higher toward his crotch. He flinched under her touch and the hand that he had thrown over her shoulder now gripped her hard.

"Well a kiss wouldn't hurt," Cassandra smirked at them, obviously excited to see the two in action. Olivia's hand immediately stilled on Elliot's leg.

"That's all?" Olivia laughed at Cassandra with fake confidence. Who was she kidding? They couldn't do this. 12 years. 12 years of a partnership, of the dream team. Were they going to throw it all away now? She thinks about the contact they've made previously…one hug. One hug was a far as 'Elliot and Olivia' had ever existed. Before Olivia could think anymore, Elliot had moved his hand to under her chin, tilting her face up at him. Before she could protest, he planted a small kiss on her lips.

The kiss was quick, so quick in fact, it could barely count as a kiss, it was a peck really. Something that existed between friends. But God, their lips made contact and there was electricity there, Olivia felt it, Elliot couldn't deny it. It was small, but his lips were perfectly rough against hers and she wanted more. She wanted his tongue to slip in between her lips, his hand to wind into her hand, his body to press against hers. And she wanted to see if that spark she thought she just felt was real.

"C'mon, help us out, you two. We love to watch the action," purred a woman's voice to Olivia's right. Olivia was still frozen, still staring at Elliot's lips. They were slightly parted, his breath coming in short pants. She was still close enough to feel the warm air on her face. Her heart began to race, her palms sweat and his hand was still on her chin. He drew his eyes up her face until they came to rest on hers, prodding, questioning their next move.

They'd drawn lines in the sand. Created boundaries. A partnership that strived on mutual respect and trust. But with that first kiss the glass was beginning to crack. The walls crumbled around them. Screw lines and rules and boundaries.

She stared into his blue pools in silent acknowledgement before his lips came crashing into hers, hard.

Jesus Fucking Christ.

Olivia Benson's lips. Olivia Benson's lips were on his mouth. And God they were soft as silk and everything he had imagined and more. He stroked his lips once along hers but she hesitated beneath him. He could tell she was still in shock, a statue against his mouth. He tried again, drawing his mouth softly across hers before sucking on her bottom lip. C'mon Liv, gimme something here. Elliot threaded his hand slowly up the back of her neck, twisting and tangling it in the hair at her nape. As his tongue shot out to lightly trace her lips, he finally, finally felt her relax beneath him. And then something happened; whatever wall she had built up, whatever hard exterior she was hiding beneath softened and her lips were moving against his.

She was pressing into him, breathing him in as she sucked on his bottom lip. Her tongue licked his lips, dipped into his mouth, ran along his teeth. He tasted like whiskey and something else, something uniquely Elliot. Olivia whimpered when he bit down on her bottom lip. Her hands roamed over every muscle, his shoulders, his chest, everything she had longed to touch for years. He was chiseled and his muscles were hard under her hands. It made her wonder if he was hard elsewhere. It made her want to find out.

When the kiss picked up intensity, they felt it, the room felt it. He was devouring her, sucking the very life out of her with his kiss and she welcomed the intrusion. His hands were in her hair, hers clenching the collar of his suit like there was no tomorrow.

He wanted her. Under her leopard dress he could picture her body, all lush and golden curves. He wanted to touch her, lick every inch of her, his fingers inside of her, taste her when she came. He wanted her writhing beneath him, screaming his name and he didn't want her leave his bed until she couldn't walk. Suddenly everything he tried to suppress for 12 years came to the surface and he was hard as fuck against his trousers.

His hand moved down her collarbone, creeping toward the swell of her breast. As his rough finger pads hit the top of her dress he swore he heard her moan into his mouth. So he did it again, dipping his hand into her dress to barely brush the nipple. This time there was no mistaking it. She moaned hard into his mouth as her tongue lapped at his. Suddenly she was moving beneath him. He refused to pull his mouth from hers, instead gripping her sides as she swung her legs over the straddle him.

She was straddling him. Olivia Benson was crotch to crotch with him, in a bar, with her tongue down his throat. His hands flew to her hips, grinding her down on him. He knew she could feel him. He was hard as a rock and her dress was beginning to pool at her hips. She knew, she fucking knew now how much he wanted her.

His right hand crept down her side, feeling her shutter and writhe under his touch, across her flat stomach, down to her thigh. He couldn't resist as his thumb drew small circles along the edge of her dress. The action was enough to drive her hands around his neck, pulling his closer, pushing him further into her mouth. She toyed with the short hair at the base of his head and rocked above him. When she collided with his erection and he could have exploded right there. Oh God, if she could move her hips like this now, in public, he couldn't even imagine what she was capable of when she was inhibited and in his bed…

It spurred him on, he couldn't resist her. His hands crept up, further along the smooth skin. His tongue dipped again into her mouth just as his fingers brushed the lacy material of her thong. He could almost, almost feel the heat of her. But as soon as he started to slip one finger under the lace, she stilled. She froze. Her hands, her lips stopped moving. Her tongue withdrew from his mouth.

Her eyes grew wide.

And Olivia Benson did what Olivia does best. She ran.

TBC