PiecesChapter 6 Insecurities

Olivia's P.O.V

That was some nap. I peered over the comforter at the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table. 12:05 p.m.? That means I've been sleeping for a full twenty-four hours. At least I had some rest; it will do me some good.

Sighing, I stretched my legs, trying to get the blood flow to return to normal. Rubbing the sleep from my limbs, I tentatively swung my legs over the side of our bed, coming in contact with the freezing cold floor. I glance in the corner of the room and I'm not surprised to see your "knock me down and fuck me" shoes carelessly thrown on the ground. I supress a giggle as I think of the times I've done just that.

I could hear the water in the bathroom start to run. With a sly grin, I eased my stiff body off of our bed and into the tiled bathroom. I closed the door, inevitably making my presence known to you, the gorgeous blonde sitting on the narrow edge of the bathtub.

As soon as I saw you, the past two days came mercilessly flooding back. What hurt me the most was that you, my babygirl, was violated in the worst way imaginable; sexually assualted because of me. Because of my job. Tears pooled in my chocolate coloured eyes as I lovingly gazed into your crystal blue ones. It's like I'm staring into the deep depths of your forgiving soul.

Without a word, I strolled over to you. I carefully sat down on the narrow strip of porcelain. Gathering your lovely face in my naturally tan, gentle hands, I kissed your forehead. "I love you, honey."

Your smile was demure and polite. You act shy whenever I tell you that you're beautiful or that I love you. Why is that so? You have the most amazing lithe body that I've ever seen; the most deep cerulean blue eyes I've ever gazed into. Out of all my past lovers, you are the smartest, also. No, don't compare you to my past lovers. It's not right. They obviously can't compare to you, you're perfect.

As I leant forward, towards your lips, you pouted them a bit, out of habit. I was anxious with anticipation; I could tell this wasn't going to be just a kiss, this was going to be a kiss full of love and caring.

Alex's P.O.V.

I could not think properly after I felt your lips on mine. With each kiss you planted, you would lift your head, just out of my reach. I would lift my head only to barely miss your crimson lips. Once I lowered my head, you would kiss me. Your kisses so sensual, so loving.

Kissing you is about as intimate as I can get without actually making love to you. You, my brown-haired detective, are the most wonderfully thorough kisser I've ever had in my whole life, ever. When you kiss me, you take your time. You don't rush trying to get in to my pants, or skirt, as fast as you can. You hold me lovingly, caress my body with your gentle hands, kiss me passionately.

I could kiss you forever. With each kiss, it's like our very first one. When your smooth, gentle hands touch my body, it takes my breath away. I felt one of your hands leave my face, traveling upwards to grab a handful of my blonde hair, slowly pulling me towards you more. I brought my hands up from the side of the bathtub; one of them resting on your feminine curvy hip and the other caressing your thigh tracing agatizingly slow, small circles. You moaned in my mouth deeply, contentedly even.

I know what makes you squirm in excruciating ecstasy, and I use it to my advantage, which in fact, is your delirious torture. You know you love it when I take advantage of you in the bedroom. Hell, I love it when you take charge and control. This is something people don't think I'll allow, that I always have to be in control. But the fact of it is, I'm not like that at all. You, of all people, should know better.

I put up this... facade, if you will, so, in turn, I don't seem as weak as I really am. I can't be weak in the courtroom, the defense will pick up on it and rip me to shreds in everything I try to do. I have to be cocky, arrogant even, but in acctuallity, I'm quite the opposite at home. When I'm with you, my dear Olivia, I can be myself and be okay with that.

Olivia's P.O.V.

I hear your moan, felt it vibrate deep in my throat. My first rational thought is to turn the water off, pick you up in my strong arms, carry you to our bed and ravage you senseless. Without breaking our kisses, I struggle to reach over to the faucet, hoping to stay balanced, to not fall on my ass in the six inches of water in the bathtub.

I twist the handle off, inadvertently letting go of your blonde hair in my hand. I made sure I didn't pull your hair, I just used it to lower your lips to mine. We heard the shrill rings of the phone, but decided silently it was inconsiderable, trivial even, at this very moment to answer it. If it's important, they'll make sure to call again. You seem to get my soundless message because you pull my body closer to yours, like you can't get enough of my warmth against your supple body.

Your kisses are becoming more and more hungrier, like you're starving for me, for my body even. Errant strands of your long blonde hair tickle my hand as I brush them away from our faces. I shiver excitedly as I feel your nimble fingers weave through my short, spikey brown hair, massaging my scalp as you go. You know what that does to me, Alex. You know how good that feels. I sigh happily as I continue my ravenous appetite sought out on your luscious lips. The taste of your lips are intoxicating, driving me madly into a wonderfully delirious drunkeness.

I reach up with both of my hands as I cup your face, brushing the pads of my thumbs across your cheeks, slowly tracing your high cheekbones. I feel you tremble beneath my touch. I lift my lips from yours – I elucidate how much I love you, want you, desire you. Your eyes are dark and cloudy with arousal as you listen to my endearments. I hear your breath hitch temporarally as I speak. I long for your touch, for your caresses. You seem to be on the same track of mind because you return the endearments in the most sincerity and ferally crush your lips to mine in a painfully tormenting kiss, leaving me breathless. I'm surprised you were able to articulate your feelings back because you haven't spoken at all during these kisses, this make out session, if you will.

Alex's P.O.V.

I hear you voice your love to me. All I can think of, in this cloudy, foggy state that has become my mind as soon as our lips touched the first time, is how much I love you. I tell you such in an unfeigned honesty. I look into your eyes as they're turning dark and cloudy with arousal – just as mine probably are – and I see love and compassion. And I know... I know that's for me, and no one else.

It makes me wonder. Was Abbie Carmichael better in bed than I am? Do you compare me to her in everything I do? She got to you first, she has to be special, right? I let my insecurities get to me still, even though you tell me, and me only, I think, that you love me. Everyday, every minute, I would question your love for me in Witness Protection, I still do at times, it seems. Would Abbie find out about me and come back to you from Washington DC? Sweep you off your feet and into her waiting arms? As I'm thinking of all this, you tell me that I'm the only one you've ever be in love with and that'll never change. I stifle a sigh, I trust you, I have to trust you. I believe you, I believe in you.

Olivia's P.O.V.

After you tell me your endearments, I sense a change in your attitude. Always remember, I'm a Detective, I can sense something not everyone can, for instance, your moods. You seemed to be deep in thought despite our intimate kisses. I know what you're thinking, and I know you let your insecurities get the best of you. I break our kiss, to honestly tell you, "You're the only one I've ever been in love with and nothing'll ever change that." I delve into your misting eyes, silently searching for your expression, searching for the information that you keep secret, your uneasiness about the thoughts that are forming in your head.

Is this an Abbie thing? You know that she was nothing to me, nothing but a past fuck-buddy. As soon as I met you, I broke off our fuck-buddy relationship, actually friendship. That's the real reason she moved to Washington DC, she knew she couldn't compare to you, that you'd win my heart when she knew she couldn't.

You – you're everything to me. Why else did I wait for you to come back to me when you were sent away in Witness Protection. If I had wanted to, I could've been with Abbie. But I didn't, you know. I only want you. Abbie, she was okay in bed, but you? You're incredible, teasing me mercilessly, but all in all, for a good cause. You have to know that, you have to trust me, trust our relationship. I can tell you're contemplating about all of this in your head, but why? Why would I be here with you if I didn't love you?