Title: Baring It All
Author: Tom's gg
Chapter: 7/?
Chapter Title: Say (What You Need to Say)
Characters: Brennan/ Booth
Rating: M - Strong Sexual Content
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.
I do not own the characters- that distinction belongs to FOX… but God I wish I did!
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What is it we agreed too?! "Fight… Sex. Bicker…. Sex. More fighting… More HOT Sex!" Oh yeah… I knew there was something missing in that last chapter!
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They had bickered all day. Booth had stayed close to Brennan for the last three days and it had strained both their nerves. When he'd showed up at her apartment to pick her up that morning she'd made a comment about his 'nuisance visits'… he was pretty sure that was the international geek code for 'stalker'.
"And I'm telling you you're wrong," Booth asserted.
"Booth, these are the facts. Are you saying the evidence is wrong?" she mocked.
"Yes, Bones. I'm telling you, that if you're saying there is no way this guy could have done it, then the evidence is wrong," he scowled.
"It's the evidence you provided me Booth. I just interpret it."
"Well then, you've made a miscalculation in your interpretation Bones, because this guy is guilty as sin. I'd bet my life on it."
Booth stood just inches from her. He had inadvertently backed her into a corner. The vein in her neck throbbed and her breasts heaved.
'Back off,' his internal voice screamed. 'You should back the Hell off!' His lips claimed his prize before his body responded to the logic of the voice.
He expected a slap, a knee to the groin, anything but the response that followed. Bones grabbed his lapel and pulled herself closer. He felt her warmth, and she felt the full affect of what her proximity did to him. She had to know the consequences of her actions.
They were in the observation area of the FBI interrogation room. The suspect Booth had just finished grilling sat at the table and gazed at the mirror. It was as if he watched their exchange; a smirk crept across his face.
Brennan hadn't realized she was being cornered until she could feel his breath on her face. The smell of coffee still lingered on him. It occurred to her that she wasn't angry, or afraid; she was desperate. She was desperate to be in his arms again.
Temperance Brennan had never allowed emotion or passion to guide her life, or her actions. Yet suddenly she moved purely on instinct. Her hands pulled at the fabric of his shirt. They slid across the sculpted plains of his abdomen and torso as her mouth devoured his. For the first time her brain was quiet. It knew that should this hunger not be satisfied there was a danger to the whole organism.
The spark of her fingers on his bare skin shocked Booth back to reality. When his eyes opened he could see the suspect leer at them. He forced himself to pull away from her warmth.
"This isn't… we can't do this here," he panted.
Brennan was dizzied by the adrenaline that pumped through her body. She moved to follow him but his hands stilled her. His words finally filtered into her consciousness and she remembered where they were. She pulled back and adjusted her clothes in the same manner he was.
"Booth, I'm-"
"No Bones," he interrupted. "It was me. I'm sorry! That was totally unprofessional of me. I promise I'll control those impulses in the future." Booth looked around for some way to save them both from this awkwardness.
"I need to process this guy," he stated.
"You're holding him?" she demanded.
"Yes Bones," he declared. "I'm convinced he did it. We'll find the link we need. But, in the mean time, I don't want this asshole out there where he can hurt anyone else. I can hold him for three days, and I intend to do just that."
Brennan stiffened. "I see."
"I'll have Charlie take you back to the lab," he sighed. "The paperwork will take a while."
"That will be fine," she claimed, despite the fact that her body language registered a whole different response.
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Booth was exhausted. He'd just removed his shoes, socks and shirt when he heard the knock. He was more than a little surprised to see Bones at his doorstep this late.
"Hey," he mumbled as she moved past him into his living room. "Did something come up Bones? I mean did you find something new with the case?" He ran his hand through his already rumpled hair; five o'clock shadow obscured his jaw.
Brennan contemplated him for several seconds. She'd gone home soon after Charlie had dropped her at the lab. She'd done everything in her power to stop herself, but she had to see him again. She needed the heat of their bodies pressed together. Her mouth opened to respond to him and then snapped shut again. She casually looked around the room and then moved through his house to find the bedroom.
She'd only been in Booth's house a couple of times, and never in this space. She slipped off her shoes and top. By the time he followed her into the room she stood before him in only her jeans. She heard his sudden intake of breath.
Booth knew he must have fallen asleep. This had to be a dream; she couldn't be here. He closed the space between them. His hand reached out and caressed her left breast. Her head dropped back and a low moan escaped her lips. One hand slipped down and wrapped around her waist as the other buried itself in her hair.
Their lips met. The kiss was passionate and desperate; their lips remembered each other like old friends. Her hands worked at his belt; she unbuttoned his slacks and slid the fabric down his hips. One hand traced the contours of his erection while the other pulled him as close as she could.
Booth lifted her and moved them toward the bed. The fabric from his slacks slid down his hips to wrap around his ankles, then they toppled onto the bed. Booth landed heavily on top of Brennan and knocked the wind out of her.
They were both shocked and confused. Once he insured that she was okay he rolled on his back and chuckled. She couldn't help but laugh as well. The passion and desperation slipped from the room, and all that was left was two old friends.
Brennan suddenly felt very naked. She reached for a t-shirt that lie nearby, black with a huge set of lips, the Rolling Stones.
"You want a beer?" he drawled. His dimples appeared from behind the cloud of desire; a smile lit his face and brightened his eyes.
She nodded her head; her face lit up in response.
He replaced his slacks with a pair of faded jeans and they moved back into the living room. He brought them both a Corona and turned on the stereo. The Killers blared from the speakers until he hit the button; James Blunt began to croon and he turned the volume down to a level that they could easily talk over.
They spent hours seated on his couch; they talked as they hadn't in what seemed like a lifetime. The conversation eventually turned to the case and the sparks again flew. It would always be this way he mused, but it was their differences that made them so strong in the end.
This thought caused the desire to race through him again. His hand moved to caress her cheek; she froze. He slid across the coach and pulled her close. His lips covered hers; his tongue slid along her lips until they parted.
One hand traced the contour of her ear, then trailed down the vein of her neck. He could feel the blood race just under the skin. His hand moved down to caress her now hardened nipple through the fabric of his shirt.
The sexually confident woman who'd arrived a few hours before was gone. Brennan knew how to handle the sex, the desire. It was when it became tangled with all these damn emotions that she was lost. His kiss was so gentle. Edmond Rostand once said, "A kiss, when all is said, what is it? A rosy dot placed on the 'I' in loving; 'tis a secret told to the mouth instead of to the ear." Brennan feared the secrets on Booth's lips.
Brennan's lips responded to his with secret's of their own; secret's from her heart. Secret's she only whispered to herself in the deepest recesses of her dreams.
"Should we…" he whispered into her ear; his hands massaged her back.
She nodded, incapable of speech. He stood and offered her his hand. They moved into the bedroom and stood next to the bed. He carefully removed the t-shirt she'd donned, pulled her close, and nuzzled her ear.
"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," his breath caressed her neck. "I missed you."
A tear rolled down her cheek as he kissed her neck and stroked her back. Her breathing became raspy.
Booth could feel her heart race as he kissed the pulse point on her neck. He slid his jeans down his hips and extricated his feet, then turned his attention back to her. When they were both fully disrobed he dropped to the bed and pulled her with him.
His mouth explored her body. It retraced each erogenous spot by memory until she writhed beneath him. He spread her legs and exposed her glistening folds. His tongue caressed them with feathered strokes. He dipped his tongue into her before he located her clit. Her taste filled him.
He sucked and licked until he was ready to explode; her body shuddered under him in a surge of orgasms. He moved up to position himself above her and entered slowly. She cried out as his hardness invaded her still quivering walls. Her hips came up to force him deeper. They moved in unison. They pounded into each other in an attempt to fill the emptiness they'd both experienced in the others absence.
Booth felt himself about to explode; he plunged into her. They came together as their hearts and blood raced to the same rhythm. When they were spent, he pulled her close and buried his face in her hair; the smell surrounded him and lulled him into a deep sleep.
When Booth woke she was gone. All that remained was the smell of her on his sheets and t-shirt. He stretched and inhaled deeply. Somehow he sensed that the war was not over.
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"What the Hell do you mean you're going to Mexico?" Booth was livid.
"I need to consult with the museum authorities there," she responded calmly. "This is part of my job Booth. It's what the Institute pays me for."
"We're in the middle of a case Bones," he growled.
"No. We are at the end of a case Booth," she insisted. "I've processed the evidence for you. You don't need me for the rest. Besides, you'll have the whole team at your disposal. I'll only be gone a few weeks, a month at the most."
She was much too calm and he was too upset. The squints kept their distance; they sensed that this was a private battle. Finally Booth turned and stormed out of the lab. Hodgins and Angela exchanged a knowing look. This was going to be a long couple of weeks.
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OK… so it's fight… sex, with a bit of fluff and angst thrown in for good measure.
I wrote this quickly… I had a really bad week, so I needed a bit of therapy. I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think of the turn in the sex… did it work in character?
Jen