It started on the ride over. The glances, the sitting just a little too close to one another, the occasional brush of one's hand or arm against the other's. Sure, the cab driver knew they weren't coming from the airport, but he didn't have to know that they weren't Jean-Paul and Sophie Ranier. Besides, it was best that they kept up appearances to everyone that they came into contact with.
After a few miles, Ziva leaned her head on Tony's shoulder and rested her hand on his leg, just a little too high up past his knee for it to be a mere friendly gesture. Not to be outdone, Tony put his arm around her, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the bare part of her back right below her shoulder blades. Ziva let out a soft sigh. Tony couldn't help but wonder what other beautiful sounds she could make.
At the front desk, Tony played with Ziva's fingers while they waited for the receptionist to activate their room key. Ziva used her free arm to wrap around Tony's waist, hooking her fingers into one of his belt loops, right above his hipbone.
During the elevator ride, Tony gently caressed her lower back. He wanted to do more, but the bellhop was giving them funny looks. Tony didn't like him very much.
When they arrived at the door of their suite, Ziva tenderly reached into Tony's front pocket to retrieve the room key, all the while looking up at him from underneath her dark lashes. Tony grinned at her before she disappeared into the room. The bellhop helped Tony place the suitcases just inside the doorway, and Tony slipped him a ten-dollar bill. He looked disappointed, and would not leave, so Tony sighed and gave him another, silently reaffirming his disdain for the hotel employee.
And then, just like that, Tony and Ziva were alone.
Tony turned around, and couldn't help but sport a mischievous grin as he walked in Ziva's direction. "So whatdya think?" he asked.
Ziva emerged from the patio and gave the room a cursory glance. "Not bad, I suppose," she stated. Tony began to chuckle and she flashed him a smile.
"Not bad, she says, as she walks in from the outdoor patio, past the fax machine. Mini bar…" he let his eyes briefly roam her body, while she had her back turned to him. His voice lowered out of its own accord. "Complimentary basket of fruit."
Ziva turned to him, seductively sucking a grape into her mouth. Tony felt a flash of arousal and nerves course through his body. And then it quickly dawned on him: he had no idea how he should proceed. As experienced as he was with women, this was an entirely different and more delicate situation. The flirting, the touching, that was all easy. Not quite innocent, but innocent enough. But now here they were, just the two of them, with nothing left to do but the very thing he had spent the last two days reimagining over, and over, and over. And over. Should he make the first move? Should he play it safe and wait for her? And dammit, he still didn't know what exactly he was even allowed to do once things got started. If they did at all. But worst of all, if Ziva was anything like he had imagined her to be, he was terrified that once he did get started, once he earned her permission, that he would not be able to stop himself. That he would get himself caught "with his pants down." That, for the first time in his entire career, he would be too distracted to effectively do his job. That fear had never felt more real until that very moment.
He was at a loss, so, in true Tony fashion, he just kept talking, and strolled across the room, putting some distance between him and the woman exploring his form with her fiercest bedroom eyes.
"This is a perfect way to spend a weekend," Tony continued, searching for something to focus on. It was then that he opened up the television cabinet. "Come on!" he exclaimed, having found a safe distraction. "Big screen TV…"
Ziva began slinking over to him. She knew exactly what he was trying to do, and she would have none of it.
Tony noticed her slow approach, but did his best to keep calm. He picked up the first thing he saw – the channel guide – and just began listing channels.
"Ooh, 200 channels. Look at this. HBO, ESPN, History Channel…"
Ziva closed the cabinet door and locked eyes with Tony. He noticed the fire burning in her gaze. He also noticed how she deliberately let her eyes roam appreciatively down his body and back up again. He clumsily set the channel guide back down on top of the television, now mesmerized by her stare. Oh fuck, was he in for it.
He made one last weak attempt for his sanity and pointed at the television. "Turner… Classic Movies?"
Ziva simply grabbed his hand and began gently leading them towards the foot of the bed. She didn't break eye contact. Not for one second. Tony felt that same flash of nerves and arousal again. Much stronger, this time.
His voice did that thing again, where it got deep and husky on its own without permission from his brain. "I take it you're not interested in the premium channels," he determined.
Ziva brought them to a halt. "There's only one thing I'm interested in right now," she replied, her voice low and seductive. Her eyes broke contact with his for a brief moment to gaze longingly at his lips, before returning to his eyes once more. Searching. Silently urging him onward. Simultaneously seeking permission and giving it.
Tony tilted his head ever so slightly, wordlessly asking if this was really happening. Looking for some kind of hesitation on Ziva's end. But he saw no such thing. She did not flinch. She did not falter. She just kept her gaze on him, her lips parting alluringly. Guiding his hand that she had captured to rest on her waist. Tony was certain he felt his heart rate triple. At least.
He took a moment to take in the sight of her, all ready and wanting like that. He glanced at her parted lips, wondering what they would taste like. Her skin looked so radiant, so warm. He wanted to know if she felt just as soft as she looked. He noticed how stimulating her scent was as it suddenly spiked in his nostrils. How had he never noticed that before? His eyes began to darken and sparkle with lust as he slowly slipped away from sanity, his grip on her waist tightening, conveying his desire. Ziva's body was suddenly closer than it had ever been, and he didn't know who started it or who finished it but before he could fully comprehend what was happening he felt his lips crash against her own. And oh God, this was it, this was what it was like to kiss her.
He pulled her closer, and she wrapped her arms around his neck only to drag her fingers across the nape and around to the hair above his ears, to his jawline, to the front of his chest. His own hands flew up to fist in her hair and cradle the back of her head as he probed deeper with his tongue. Ziva responded by opening her mouth to him even more. He was getting the most delicious little moaning sounds out of her. He concluded that he could never get enough of that.
Ziva's hands floated further downward to fumble with the tie on the front of her dress. Tony's fingers slid down the sides of her neck to pull at the straps that rested on her shoulders, and in matter of seconds the dress that fit Ziva's frame so elegantly was nothing more than a pile of fabric on the floor, pooled haphazardly at her feet. Tony snaked his hands down her shoulders and over the expanse of her bare back, lightly running his fingernails over her skin. He could feel her shiver at that, and press a little closer to him. Could hear her moan a little louder that time, too. He made a mental note to do it again sometime.
Their tongues continued to battle for dominance for a moment longer, until Ziva deliberately broke away and fell seated onto the edge of the bed behind her. Tony's eyes shot open at the sudden loss of contact, searching for her, only to find Ziva carefully undoing the ankle strap of her right shoe, and then slipping the heel gracefully off of her foot. The fire though, that was still in her eyes, and she made sure to show Tony just how much when she left his gaze to scan his body, hungrily, teasing her bottom lip between her teeth.
Through erratic breaths he took in the picture in front of him. He was seeing for the first time just how the black lace of her bra cradled her perfect breasts, how the matching fabric of her panties rested alluringly across her hipbones. He couldn't help but growl low in his throat at the sight of that. He was able to notice for the first time, too, just how wildly hot she looked with disheveled hair and kiss-swollen lips. He looked at the curve of her neck, and thought about how he would like to suck on it, tease it with his teeth and tongue. That would be nice, he decided. He decided he would do just that.
But first, Ziva was taking just a little too long with her left heel, so he leaned over her, his left arm planted firmly beside her on the bed, forcing her to lean back on her hands. He placed his right hand high on her leg, running it down past her knee and around to the back of it, compelling her to draw her leg up toward her body so he could continue onward to her calf, and then to that damn little strap on her ankle that she had been fidgeting with. It was then that his lips attached themselves to her, just below her jawline, slowly kissing and licking their way down her neck, tasting her. Teasing her. With deft fingers he unbuckled the strap of her shoe and slid the heel off of her foot, discarding it on floor to the side of the bed, while Ziva moaned beneath him. He continued his assault on her neckline, and she helped him slide his suit jacket off of his shoulders, quipping, "Someone is still wearing too many clothes." Tony grinned against her neck before standing upright again, pulling her with him to rest flush against his body.
"Well then," he husked, resting his hands on her bare sides, gently grazing her flat stomach with his thumbs. "What are you going to do about it?"
Ziva didn't hesitate to grab at his clothes.