Disclaimer: I don't own anything connected to Law & Order: Criminal Intent but if Dick Wolf is feeling generous I'm always willing to take delivery. No financial gain involved in writing this story, so please don't sue.
Summary: Definitely B/A - but if you've read any of my other stuff you could have guessed that ;o) I've been rewatching my Season 1 DVDs and this is what happened in my head after some of the episodes. Hope you enjoy.
A/N: What do you think – will they make it to the bedroom? Hope you enjoy finding out ;o)
Alex's POV
Just when I'm beginning to think things can't get much better, they do. As he explores my mouth with his tongue Bobby finally steps closer. My body is going into overdrive and my brain is going into meltdown. I feel as if ever nerve in my body is on fire.
Any minute now I'm either gonna have a stroke or a heart attack because my body can't take the sort of pressure that's building in it at the sensation of being pressed up against Bobby's powerfully built chest. The only problem is that in order to pull my body flush against his he moved his hands around to my back. Mind you, that's not exactly a bad thing because now those amazing fingers of his seem to be drawing patterns on the naked skin of my back, I can feel his fingertips skimming lines of fire up and down my spine, then back and forth across my back, zigzagging from the lower edge of my tank top down to the upper edge of my shorts, in long lazy horizontal strokes that make me arch into him.
At the same time his tongue is exploring every millimetre of my mouth and my own tongue is attempting to return the favour. I need to breath. I pull away from his mouth, immediately regretting the loss but, hmh, what's he doing now. I let my head drop back against the door of the cabinet behind me as Bobby trails kisses down my neck and across my collarbone. Through the haze of sensation I slowly realise that he's saying something.
"Hmm, what?" Good grief is that me speaking? My voice could have come straight out of some porn star's mouth, it's all wispy and breathless.
"Which door is the bedroom, Alex?" Oh my God, I can't even think of the answer.
I find myself staring into his eyes, which right now are so dark they're damn near black, trying to remember which door leads to my bedroom, shortly to be known as paradise on earth, I'm hoping. I see a sudden spark of humour glinting in Bobby's eyes as he speaks again.
"If I'd known kissing you would be such an effective method of keeping you quiet I would have tried it on day one, Eames." He's grinning, the cheeky son of a bitch, and, hey, what happened to 'Alex'?
Oh, was I about to complain about something? What was I complaining about? His lips have reclaimed mine and he's sliding his tongue back into my mouth and I'm really not complaining about anything, honest I'm not, because this feel far too good to be real. His lips are moving across my skin again, this time along my jaw to my ear. I can feel his breath against my ear when he speaks again.
"Which door is your bedroom, Alex?" Is his voice usually that hoarse, I'm pretty sure it isn't.
This time my mind actually manages to get my mouth to kick out an answer. "Across the hall, second door."
That's all the information and encouragement my partner apparently needs because the next sensation that goes through me is of being lifted.
"Goren, what the … put me down." Ah, that sounds more like my usual voice, although it's still rather breathless and husky.
Bobby Goren has me cradled across his chest, one arm under my shoulders, the other under my knees and is currently stepping out of my kitchen and into my hall. I have no choice right now but to wrap my arms around his neck and attempt to protest. Which is quite funny really because, although suitably exasperated words are issuing from my mouth, I'm making no attempt to struggle against his grip and my voice isn't in the least convincing.
"I don't think so, Alex." He drops a quick kiss against my lips, then straightens and continues down the hall to my bedroom door, which it appears I left open when I decided to make myself a drink.
I'm half expecting my partner to go into a caveman act, you know the whole throwing me down in the middle of the bed routine, instead he places me down gently where the covers are flung back. I can still feel the warmth of my own body on the sheet beneath me. More importantly I can feel the warmth of his body against me as he lays his body over mine. He's leaning on his right arm, keeping the majority of his weight off me, and his left hand is gently cradling my cheek.
He's looking down at me with such intensity in his eyes that I can't look back at him, so I close my eyes and take in the sensation of his fingertips, almost cautiously, skimming over the planes of my face, as if he's trying to memorise me as I am in this moment. Then his lips repeat the action of his fingertips. While his lips gently caress every inch of my face his hand is moving lower, fingertips skimming faster now as he moves down to start exploring my body.
I don't dare open my eyes, I'm almost certain if I do I'll wake up and find out this is just another of those dreams I've been having lately. You know the ones I mean, the kind of dreams where you wake up with an ache deep inside. The ones that, when you get to work and see the person you were dreaming about last night, leave you with a vague sense of embarrassment.
I'm unfastening the buttons of his shirt, I can feel his naked skin against the tips of my fingers as I work my way from one button to the next. I know, on some level, that I should be calling a halt to this, that this is not something we should be doing but I can't seem to stop myself as I push his shirt open and my hands shift upwards to push it off his shoulders. Thankfully his sleeves are rolled up already, so there's no fiddling with cuffs as he shrugs the shirt off. My eyes are still closed as I feel him move slightly to get rid of it.
"Alex, please, open your eyes." Since when does Bobby Goren plead, I wonder distractedly as I hear his voice.
I feel his words as much as I hear them, his lips are so close to mine I swear I can feel their movement as he speaks, not just the warmth of his breath against my skin. My hands are exploring the newly exposed skin of his torso and I'm taking in the feel of his muscles beneath his skin. I don't want to open my eyes, I'm almost scared of what I might find if I do.
"Alex, baby, please." He sounds almost desperate now and that, in itself, is enough to flip my eyelids open.
I was right to be scared. The intensity I closed my eyes to escape is still there in the eyes now staring into mine. I should not be seeing what I think I'm seeing in my partner's eyes. I should be seeing the desire, that's more than acceptable right now; the lust, I can definitely work with; it's the thing he's trying to damn hard to hide that I shouldn't be seeing, and I hope I'm doing a better job than he is of hiding it, because I should not, repeat not, be seeing love in my partner's eyes and I hope to god he can't see it reflected in mine.
"Hi." He says and kisses me so softly it's almost the whisper of a kiss.
"Hi." I say back and return his kiss, just as softly.
My hands have worked their way back down to his waist and my fingers are busy unfastening the jeans he's wearing. The hand that has been busily exploring my body is inexplicably gripping those fingers.
"You're sure?" He's a little late with that question, but I appreciate the opportunity all the same. Trust Bobby to always give a girl the option.
"I'm sure. You?" Hell no, I'm not sure. In fact I'm pretty sure this could kill me, given how turned on I am right at this moment. I mean, get serious a minute here. I'm still in my pyjamas, he's still half dressed, we haven't touched each other intimately yet and I'm absolutely certain I've never been this turned on before in my life. I'm probably going to dissolve completely before we're done.
"Yes. Do we need…" I cut off his question with another, barely there, kiss.
"Pill." I feel a shudder run through him at that single word.
I don't usually let a man know I'm on the pill, it tends to lead to discussion about whether or not a condom is required and, so far as I'm concerned, a condom is always required. It was a strict policy of mine prior to my marriage and neither of my lovers since Joe died had known that doing it without barrier protection was an option.
"We can still use …" I cut him off again, this time because I've gotten his jeans unzipped and I've slipped my hand inside his fly and am rubbing the backs of my fingers up and down his erection through the fabric of his boxers.
"I trust you. I do usually use a condom but, unless you want to …"
I let my comment hang as I remove my hand from inside his jeans and start to push them down off his hips, boxers included. Discussion time seems to be over as, between us, we shed the remaining barriers of his jeans and my pyjamas. I can't keep track anymore of who's doing what to whom as we explore each other with our mouths and hands. I am aware of, but barely recognise, noises I make as he sets himself the task of discovering which points on my body cause what reaction. I do know he makes me cry out, several times, when he takes first one of my breasts then the other into his mouth. His tongue should be classified as one of the wonders of the modern world. I know I hear moans, hisses and groans escape from him as my hands, lips and tongue locate sensative points on his body.
It seems that this whirling blur of sensations goes on forever before I feel his fingers ease between my folds, testing and teasing. I'm so close to the edge that I almost scream when the tips of his fingers brush against my throbbing clit.
He's somehow ended up on his back and I'm laying more or less on top of him. I stiffen at the contact of his fingertips against my sensitised nub and he, bless him, notices. He was torturing a particularly sensitive spot on my neck, I think, but now he's looking up at me. His eyes are still dark with passion, he's still trying his best to hide that deeper emotion we're not supposed to be feeling, but now there's a definite light of self-satisfaction, and is that wonder, to be seen.
"Are you always like this?" He sounds a little stunned, as if he expected to have to work harder for the response he's getting from my body.
"Like what?" 'I can't think right now, Bobby, I'm kinda busy melting.' I wish I could actually get the words out because it might just encourage him to continue what he was doing. Oh, nevermind, no further encouragement required. Two of those amazingly long fingers of his slide into my centre and his thumb strokes across my clit.
"So damn hot, Alex."
He's investigating the inside of me as thoroughly as he has done the outside. He doesn't just thrust his fingers into me, no the considerate bastard is actually caressing my inner walls, searching out pleasure points and looking for that one particular spot that has eluded every lover in my past. I can't help but press myself more firmly against his hand in response.
Oh … My … God … this can't be …Oh Bobby please don't stop … I hear myself scream his name, as the entire universe crashes to a halt around me. I think hear myself cry out his name again, only this time it's not a scream so much as a moan, then a strange sobbing sound reaches my ears and I become aware of being cradled gently against a wonderfully broad, muscular chest, as I slowly come back to earth.
This can't be right. I don't come from being fingered, at least not since I was a hormone crazed teenager. So why do I feel so wonderfully spent and why the hell is Bobby kissing tears from my cheeks.
A/N: Ooops, so much for keeping the chapters short – I'm sure you don't mind too much though. Okay, let's go see what Bobby made of all this. Then on to the 'main event'.