Part Three

The shower was running before she made it to "her" side of the bed. She snuggled into the blanket and tried to keep herself warm. Her coat was still wet, but she wasn't sure if it would still be warmer than dry, cold blankets. What she needed, she realized, was Elliot, barely decent, to come back into the room, which would allow her entirely inappropriate thoughts to keep her plenty warm.

In no time at all, he was back. He checked the heater first, turning to her with a smile. "Warm air. Finally."

Still trying to force her thoughts from the idea of Elliot in the shower five feet on the other side of a thin wall, she croaked out her agreement. "Great." And it was great, because if it got warm enough to dry their clothes, she wouldn't have to sleep in the bed with him with nothing on except the panties that had become rather wet too what with her thinking about him in the shower and all.

Just hearing the confirmation that the heater was working made her feel better, and she watched him stride back across the room. Between him and the heater, she wasn't sure she'd need the blanket for much longer.

Of course, she knew, if she laid there without the blanket, Elliot would likely notice her and the fact that his shirt had ridden up and maybe replace the blanket and do a damn good job of keeping her warm. With the way he filled out his shorts, she was really tempted to try it.

"I'm going to put these on the heater to dry." He grabbed her clothes off the hooks and took them back to the heater, stretching out her pants and hat and scarf. She watched as he paused, staring at the bra she'd put under her pants on the hook. She wanted to giggle as his face reddened. Finally, he returned to the hooks, put her bra back on one and grabbed her socks and gloves instead.

There was something sweetly intimate about seeing her bra hanging there next to his shirt and tie. It was like snow. And bunnies. It made her smile.

As did the fact that he'd just had her bra in his hands.

She rolled onto her side and told herself to sleep. Letting her mind wonder was only going to get her into trouble. Since he was single, though, she wasn't sure how much trouble it would be. She was fairly certain they could go at it like rabbits and still work together with no one the wiser.

"What are you grinning about?"

"Bunnies." With a giggle, she stretched and then curled back up.

He walked around the room one more time, switching off the lights as he went. That was depressing. If something were to happen, she wanted to be able to see. If Elliot were to climb on top of her and suggest they keep each other warm and occupied, she wanted to see the look in his eyes. If he decided to fuck her, she wanted to make sure he was looking at her and not pretending she was his ex-wife.

Despite his attempt to darken the room, the obnoxiously bright street lights shone through the shabby curtains, keeping the room light enough that she was content there'd be no pretending she was a blonde.

Her thought process had done little to lull her to sleep. Thoughts of Elliot and sex were worse than caffeine, leaving her wide awake and wishing she had the nerve to suggest doing something that might exhaust them both. But she remained still and quiet, trying to be considerate of her partner, feeling bad that while she was having amusing, pleasant thoughts about him he was probably remembering sharing a bed with his wife and missing his family.

It wasn't too much later when he broke the silence. "Are you cold?"

She was, though nowhere near as cold as she'd been earlier. "Yeah."

His hand patted her shoulder. "Lift up."

Out of instinctive trust, she pushed herself up on her elbow before she bothered to ask. "What?"

And then his right arm slipped under her head, his body spooning behind her, his left arm curling around her waist. "No use both of us being cold, right?"

She smiled as she settled back down, letting her head rest on his bicep. "No, not really." She shifted around, her body deliciously warm and comfortable, but her head missed the thin pillow. "Your arm is as hard as a rock, El."

He snickered, as though he was glad she'd commented on his muscles. "Sorry."

"That's ok. It's still pretty to look at." She wasn't about to let him have the last word. And just to dissuade him from trying, as she suspected he would when he stopped chuckling, she shifted her ass the slightest bit, feeling his instantaneous reaction and the way he tried to subtly shift back. He stopped chuckling immediately.

It took all of her concentration to keep the giggle to herself.

They were adults, she reminded herself. They could share the warmth of snuggling in a shitty motel after they'd tried to freeze themselves to death in the snow. There was no reason they had to resort to ripping off what clothing was left between them just because the opportunity presented itself.

Damn it, another reason bunnies rocked.

If they wanted to fuck, they fucked. End of story. They didn't lie there next to each other trying to think up reasons they shouldn't. They were honest about their feelings, up front, unencumbered by morals and rules and rights and wrongs.

No wonder bunnies made her smile.

Sex with hot guys made her smile too. Unfortunately, it didn't appear that would be happening, what with Elliot on his best behavior and all.

And despite her passive-aggressive attempts to move things along, Elliot was sound asleep in less than a minute. He could fall asleep at the drop of a hat. She'd asked him about it once when she'd gone to get him from the crib ten minutes after he'd headed up for a nap, amazed that he was actually asleep. It was a trick he'd learned in the Marines, he said, they never knew when they'd get their next chance at sleep, they learned to fall asleep quickly.

She envied him for being unconscious and thus out of his misery. She was still in hers, trying not be turned on by the way his belly pressed against her back with each slow, even breath he took. Without thinking about what she was doing, and while deciding that if he asked she'd blame it on sleep, she rested her arm over his, entwining their fingers. And then she seriously went about trying to sleep.

She wasn't sure, but she thought he squeezed her hand just as she was drifting off.

Surprisingly, she slept quite soundly and promptly refused to think about the psychological ramifications of the fact that the first good night sleep she'd had in several years had been while she was snuggling with her partner. Because if she thought much about it, she would quickly arrive at the conclusion that she'd been a moron to have ever thought otherwise.

Who wouldn't sleep well in those warm, strong, protective arms?

Part of her was loathe to wake him. She wanted to enjoy the contented warmth as long as she could.

The rest of her was rather afraid he'd wake up and find her awake and still cuddled up to him. He'd tease her mercilessly about it.

Although, considering that his duty weapon was still sitting on the TV next to hers, the way his gun was pressed against her ass, she'd have ample reason to tease him right back.

She sighed and pulled the blanket up further before she closed her eyes once again. Clearly he was far more likely to be embarrassed, so it was ok for her to be vulnerable.

It was abundantly obvious when he woke up. First, his arm tightened around her as his hips ground against hers. Then he groaned, his mouth pressing against her neck. And then, the icing on the cake. His groan turned into a word, and not the word she would have expected.

"Liv."

She would have thought the name on his lips in that sexy, sleepy, satisfied voice would be Kathy. She was so busy being surprised that he moaned her name into her hair that she didn't even think about moving. And even if she'd been able to think straight feeling his hot breath on her skin, she would have expected that, since he was awake, he would notice that he wasn't dreaming, that he was actually touching her, and then move away quite quickly. She never would have thought up what he did next.

His head moved, his lips brushing against her hair and neck until finally, his mouth found her ear. At the same time as his arm tightened sharply, his hand flattened against her belly and pulled her into him as he thrust forward, his teeth latched onto her earlobe and he suckled it.

Fuck, that man was really fucking coordinated first thing in the morning.

All that while Olivia still wasn't sure which of the tangled limbs under the blanket belonged to her.

Still too stunned to move and afraid he might read her stubborn stillness as rejection, she managed to force some sort of entirely incoherent string of vowels out of her mouth. As much lusting after the man as she'd done over the years, she'd thought she'd be ready and eager and happy to fight him for control.

But really, what did she care who was on top?

Didn't make a fucking bit of difference to her. Not with him. Not with a man she trusted with her life.

His tongue lapped against her ear, leaving a moist trail as it slid down the column of her throat. When he reached the collar of his shirt, he reversed directions and licked his way back up. Finally, she seemed to regain voluntary control of her body, digging her nails into his arm as she pushed her ass back against him.

And that was all it took for him to move away, leaving her cold and hurt and confused.

But only for the moment it took her brain to register that his hand was on her hip, pushing her body flat on the bed, giving her the briefest possible window to prepare herself for his weight dropping unapologetically onto her.

Good god the man was heavy. All that muscle weighed a freaking ton, sending the air rushing out of her lungs.

And he made it quite impossible to replace that lost air when he planted his mouth firmly over hers. Conveniently, the feel of his soft lips and hot breath and itchy five o'clock shadow and even that impressive weight made air completely unnecessary. Her arms moved up, her fingers tracing the shape of his arms, sliding over his skin, marking him, memorizing him. When her hands met behind his head, she pulled his face harder against hers, unconcerned that her teeth might break off with much more pressure.

He understood the message though, his lips parting finally, his tongue meeting hers halfway as they battled for position. She conceded because she didn't see having his tongue in her mouth as much of a loss. And although he kissed her quite thoroughly, he seemed to understand the wisdom of her decision and allowed her the same privilege soon after.

It was only seconds, or maybe it just felt that way, before he was moving to kneel, pulling her body from the bed with one arm, yanking the shirt off her before she even realized what he intended. After having Elliot warming her, the otherwise comfortable air in the room was freezing, raising goosebumps on her flesh, puckering her nipples tightly. His mouth was on her throat as he lowered her back down, the heat of his body warming her as he covered her once again.

But then he was moving, shifting, sliding, and she wanted to complain for she was far from done kissing him.

But she couldn't really complain about the way his mouth and tongue were sliding down, touching, tasting, licking every bit of her body. He traced her collarbone, her shoulders, the hollow of her throat. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he moved, uncertain when her entire body had become so sensitive. His hands were moving up while his mouth was exploring. He cupped her breasts, squeezing them, molding them to his hands, as his mouth worked over their tops one at a time. His fingers found one nipple, rubbing and massaging it while his mouth closed over the other.

Jesus, she thought she might have just come. While she felt the pleasure rolling through her, she was still wound up and throbbing for want of coming. The things the man did to her were just not right.

Not that what he was doing with his tongue was wrong at all.

She groaned, fisting her hands in the blanket, arching her back up as though she expected him to suck her whole breast, maybe her whole body into his mouth. He didn't seem to mind. A few Earth-shattering moments later, he was leaving a trail of wet kisses over to the other breast, repeating the same motions, with much the same effect.

And that was why she remembered wanting control. Because she'd known all along that the man could and would dominate her in such a pleasant way that she'd be happy to just lie there while he reduced her to a quivering puddle of goo. And while she was tempted to let him do just that, the competitive spirit in her, the part with no nerve endings, insisted that she have her chance to prove that he was as helpless under the same conditions.

She dropped the blanket and reached for his shoulders, nails digging in as she pushed him until he was kneeling again. He continued to bend, his mouth seeking her skin, but she wasn't having any of it. So he made her crazy and rendered her senseless. That was fine, as long as it went both ways.

Couldn't have him thinking he called all the shots.