Back again. Thanks for all your messages, lovelies. :)

i miss the pull of your heart
i taste the sparks on your tongue
i see angels and devils
and god when you come on
Matt Nathanson, "Come on Get Higher"

Olivia's flight had been listed as "arrived" for nearly twenty minutes. The gate was kind of far, but still. What was taking her so long? Had she changed her mind? Decided to stay in New York? She wouldn't do that. Not without telling him.

He stood in the arrivals area with his hands in the pockets on his kutte, and the crowd around him eyed him sidelong. He was big. He wore a kutte. He had a beard and lots of hair and a thick wallet chain. Overall he made people nervous.

What would he do when he saw her? A hug for sure. She'd want a hug. What about…she probably wouldn't want a kiss in public. Yeah, there'd been plenty of kisses that day on the street as they said goodbye, but that was different.

He clenched and relaxed his fingers as he tried to calm his nerves. Where was she?

Just as he was about to go from nervous to worried, he caught a flash of bright hair coming his way. He lifted a hand in a wave, and she waved back. Her smile lit up the room and he felt his breath catch and his heart skip a couple of beats.

"Hey," he said when she was close enough.

"Hey." Her carry-on was slung over her shoulder, and she gripped the strap so tight her knuckles were white. Their eyes met and a silence stretched between them. He reached up to brush a stray lock of hair off her cheek and that broke the spell.

She threw herself at him and he caught her with a surprised oomph. "I missed you," she whispered into his chest. His scent was so familiar, leather and cigarettes and citrus.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and squeezed her tight. "I missed you too," he said.

She pulled away and tugged his beard with a grin. "Come on. Baggage claim awaits." She linked her fingers with his almost without thinking, and neither of them could wipe the stupid happy smiles off their faces.

"How was your flight?" he said as they stepped onto the escalator.

"Good," she said. "Uneventful."

"That's the best kind."

"Mmhhmm," she said. She rubbed her tummy. "I'm starving, though."

"Still living your never eat airplane food philosophy?"

"Yep. I'm not givin' it up now. I just wish I'd remembered to pack the food I made."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to kiss her temple. "We'll get something. You're not gonna starve on my watch."

"My hero," she said. They paused a moment to check the arrivals board, then wandered toward the right claim area.

He made a low noise of agreement and tried to smother a smile. "Just so you know, Gemma cleaned your house and stocked your fridge yesterday."

She stared up at him. "You're kidding."

"Nope. I tried to talk her out of it, but she was dead set. But, I mean. I guess it's better than coming home to dust and an empty fridge?"

Olivia sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "Yeah, I guess. I just wish she'd asked first."

"I know. I told her. But you know how she gets."

"I do," she said. "Oh, that's mine." She stepped forward to grab it, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Let me," he said.

"I can handle my bags, Ope."

"I know," he said. He cupped her cheek in his palm and brushed his thumb against her skin. "Let me anyway."

He wasn't just talking about her luggage, of course, and it was on the tip of her tongue to just spill it: I love you; but here? In an airport baggage claim? She swallowed the words down and said only, "Yeah, Opie. Okay."

A soft kiss to her forehead and he was off, around the carousel to grab the suitcase just before it went back in for another loop. Her luggage was distinctive; lime green Diane von Fürstenberg (though he didn't know the last part); and he swooped up each piece as it went by. She'd been in New York nearly two months, and she had the bags to prove it. Finally he had a little pile of it around her feet and she nodded.

"That's everything."

"Wow," he said.

"Opie. It's three bags and a carry-on. Like, are you kidding? I could've packed twice this much." She paused and bit her lip. "I shipped a bunch of it. Most of the stuff I bought there."

"Uh huh," he said. "Come on. I'll pull the truck around."

"I see Gemma's been taking care of my yard, too," Olivia said as he pulled into her driveway. They'd spent the drive back catching up on all the things they didn't talk about on the phone: the Jax and Wendy situation; general MC life; the state of business at TM; and Olivia had to admit she was glad to finally be back in Charming.

"We all have, sorta. Like mowin' and stuff. She did all the flowers." At her look he shrugged. "Someone had to. Didn't wanna make it look like the bum who lived here took off to New York for two months and left the place abandoned."

He helped her get everything inside and back to her bedroom, and she dropped onto her bed with a long sigh. "It's good to be home." A pause. "And I guess it's nice to have clean-smelling sheets rather than stale-smelling ones."

From his spot leaning in the doorway he managed a brief grin. He had no idea of the protocol here. Did he—did he just walk into her room? Without being invited? While she was on the bed? Yeah they'd shared a bed in New York, but that was…and it was different, because this was her bed, in her bedroom, in her house.

As if sensing his confusion, she pushed herself to her feet and joined him in the hall. "How about some food?" she said. "Let's see what Gemma and her elves left in my fridge."

"We could just order somethin'," he said. "I mean, you gotta be tired. Flyin' is such a pain in the ass."

She cast him a curious look. "You really don't like to travel, do you?"

He ducked his head and tugged his beanie down a little. "Nah. Unless I'm on my bike. I like a road trip. But airports? Planes? You got any idea how tiny them seats are? And no fuckin' legroom. And I always get weird looks from security like I'm up to somethin' because I've got a beard."

"The kutte probably doesn't help," she said.

"Not really."

"Hey." She pulled at his beard until he looked up at her. "Thank you," she said. Her smile was sweet, her voice soft and sincere. "Not just for New York, but Chicago too. You didn't have to do that for me. Either time."

He eyed her. "Of course I did, Oll. And, I mean—I wanted to. To make sure Tara's asshole ex didn't hurt you guys, and then to see you in New York. See your show." He hitched a shoulder. "All of it."

She combed her fingers through the hair along his jaw and lifted up on tiptoes to kiss him long and slow. "I love you, Opie," she whispered against his lips, almost without meaning to.

He jerked away and she stumbled backwards into the wall, a hand pressed to her mouth as she tried to process what she'd just said. Her eyes were huge, her cheeks bright pink, but he was still sure he'd misheard her. Or misunderstood.

His mouth worked but no sound came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What?" True brilliance.

"Um. I just…Pizza. Pizza would be…awesome. Don't you think?"

"Yeah. I like pizza. But what'd you just say?"

"Get your ears checked, Winston. I said pizza would be awesome," she repeated, raising her voice and enunciating each syllable.

He rolled his eyes. "Olivia Jameson."

For a moment he thought she'd try to dodge again, but then she let out a long breath and clenched her hands together. "I love you," she said in a rush. "I'm in love with you. I love—"

He cut her off with a kiss, swooping her against him with an arm around her waist, and as her feet left the floor she let out a surprised eep that he swallowed down. He rested his palm along her jaw and held her tight, and her arms came up to wrap around his neck.

"Say it again," he said, pressing his forehead to hers.

"I love you," she breathed.

He closed his eyes. "You mean it?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't. I love you, Harry."

His grin was so big it hurt his face, and he couldn't stop kissing her. She giggled as he traced a line down the side of her neck and then came back to her mouth again. He kissed the tears off her cheeks and around the curve of her ear, and then went still.

"I love you too, Olivia," he murmured.

"You didn't change your mind while I was gone?"

He tilted far enough away to see her face, to get a good long look, and he recognized the fear and doubt in her eyes. "No," he said, simply.

Her forehead landed on his shoulder and her voice was thick. "Good," she said. "I wanted to wait until we saw each other to tell you. It didn't feel right over the phone, but I worried the whole time. That you'd get tired of waiting or, hell, you'd meet someone else—"

"You weren't gone that long!"

"I know, but—"

"Olivia, look at me." He loosened his hold so that she slid down his body until she was on her feet again. He hesitated, then laced his fingers through her hair to pull her head back. Her eyes fluttered closed and she made a noise that—

"Whoa," he said, his breath catching on the word. "What was that?"

She lifted a brow, and her smile was a lazy curve. "You pulled my hair, Opie. How'd you think I'd react?"

"Oh." He swallowed. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know," she said. She disentangled herself and patted his ass as she brushed by him. "I guess you just have that effect on me."

He stared after her, wide-eyed. She apparently had that effect on him, too. "Wait," he said. "Were we—was the conversation over?"

"Nope. I just thought we should order that pizza."

She stood in the kitchen, her back to him, and he watched a moment as she dialed the pizza place. As soon as she said hello he captured her body between his and the counter and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

A quick glare over her shoulder as she tried to wiggle away, but he planted his hands on either side of her, and she was trapped.

"No, sorry, got distracted," she said to the guy on the phone. "I'd like two larges"—Opie could eat one practically on his own—"with, um…uh…"

He grinned and ran a hand under her shirt to tickle her tummy as he kissed her ear.

"Um. One of them with broccoli and pepperoni. Er—"

She swatted at him, but he just laughed, muffling it in the curve of her shoulder, and sucked her soft skin into his mouth.

"Olives!" she said. "Sorry. Um. Pepperoni, broccoli, and olives."

"Sausage," he whispered, his breath warm and shivery. He pinched her side and she grabbed his hand. "And artichokes. And get cheesy bread."

She wiggled, arching her body into his, and said, "Sausage and artichokes on the other, with light sauce. And an order of cheese bread."

He tugged her shirt aside to plant easy, sucking kisses along her shoulder while his fingers stroked up and down her side. She confirmed her address and the total with the pizza guy, then hit the button on the phone and slammed it down on the counter.

"Harry Winston!"

"What?" he said, all innocence. He bit the back of her neck and soothed the spot with a gentle brush of his lips.

"That guy probably thought I was nuts."

"Uh huh, maybe. Flaky, at the least." He dragged his hand higher, to run his thumb along the underside of her breasts.

"Opie," she murmured. Her palms were braced against the counter and she rocked back into him with a quiet sigh.

"See?" he said. "You love it when I tease you."

She turned in his arms so they were face to face and ran her hands under his shirt to tickle the small of his back. "Maybe I'm tired of teasing," she said.

He stroked lower, to her thighs, then back again, this time under her skirt. "Maybe I am, too," he said, his voice a low rasp.

He hooked two fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down. She wiggled until they were around her ankles, and he lifted her onto the counter. She shoved the beanie off his head so she could comb through his hair, and he pressed into her with a low groan.

"I love you," he said just before their mouths met. He swirled his tongue against hers and kneaded her thighs. Sucked her lower lip and rucked her skirt up to her waist.

"I love you too," she said, her eyes steady on his. She leaned back far enough to pull her shirt over her head, and he tugged the cups of her bra down so he could lick and suck her nipples.

"God I love these," he mumbled. He worked the barbell with his tongue; rolled it between his lips; and her head fell back on a rough breath.

"My tits?"

"Yeah," he said, laughing a little. "But I more meant the nipple piercings. They're sexy as hell."

"Oh," she said. "Well boy do I have a surprise for you."

He cast her a questioning look, but she just smirked. "You'll see."

"Hhhmm," he said. He arched her backwards so that he could kiss lower, down her belly, before he ran his tongue over the scars on her thigh. He kissed each one, lavishing it with attention, and then kissed his way to the inside of her knee.

"I wanna taste you, Ollie," he said. "Before we do anything else I want that. Please?"

They'd been each other's firsts for a lot of things, but she'd never let him go down on her. At the time she'd really liked the idea of it, but it seemed so incredibly…intimate. His mouth on her…his tongue and his lips and him tasting her…

Just like he wanted to do now, only it was fifteen years later, and the thought of being that intimate with Opie thrilled her much more than it scared her. She loved him. She trusted him. And oral was just the start of what she wanted him to do to her.

She smiled and ran a fingertip along the line of his nose. "What about the pizza?" she said with a teasing grin.

"What about it?"

She tweaked his nose, which made him scrunch it in a way that made her want to kiss him and never stop. "I'd hate for you to spoil your appetite," she said when she could speak again.

"I think I'd rather have dessert first," he said. He dipped his head to lick a long trail up the inside of her thigh, and she shuddered.

"Yeah, Ope," she said on a shaky breath. "I think that's a grand idea."

He hauled her closer with a hungry growl and dropped to his knees. He nipped and sucked at her inner thigh, first one leg then the other, and left small red marks in his wake that he returned to soothe with his tongue. She leaned back, her palms flat against the counter, and moaned as he draped her legs over his shoulders.

"Gonna make you feel so good," he said between licks and nibbles. "Gonna take such good care of you, baby. Holy shit I've needed to get my mouth on you for so goddamn long."

"Please, Opie," she breathed. "Please, I need it too! So bad, sweetheart."

He made a noise low in his throat and dragged his tongue up her slit. Her hips jerked and he chuckled, wrapping his hands around her to hold her still.

His eyes darted up to meet hers and she grinned down at him. "I guess this's what you meant," he said, flicking the piercing with his tongue.

"Fuck!" she said, a quiet gasp. "Yep, that's it."

He spread her lips and the line formed between his brows. "That's…wow. Jesus, Oll."

"You like?"

For a long time he could only stare, his brain blank and buzzing like static on a TV screen, but finally he managed a jerky nod. "Yeah," he said. "Fuck yeah." He rubbed his tongue over the top ball so that the one nestled against her clit wiggled.

"Mmmm," she said. "Like that, babe."

"That's good?" he said and did it again.

"Uh huh. So good!"

He lapped at her, catching his tongue on the little blue ball so that the piercing rocked and bounced on her clit, and her heels pressed harder into his back. Curious, he sucked it into his mouth. Rolled it between his lips. Spun it with the tip of his tongue, like he did to the barbells.

"Fuck, Opie," she panted. "Fuck, baby, that's right, please!"

"You taste so good," he muttered. "So goddamn sweet. Wanna lick you all up, Ollie baby."

She just moaned, and he smirked as he licked lower, dipping his tongue inside her and swirling it. He made sure his nose bumped against the piercing when he bobbed his head, and the noises she made turned breathier and more high-pitched.

He sucked her labia into his mouth, each in turn, and lapped over her inner lips. Again when she fisted her fingers into his hair.

"Yes, fuck, oh God! Don't stop, don't stop, just like that!"

He groaned, low and rough, and swirled his tongue around and around her clit. Flicked back and forth across it until the muscles in her legs danced and jumped. He clamped both hands around her thighs and squeezed as he worked her with his mouth, and she chanted his name in a drunken, desperate litany.

She tasted so good, so fucking good, and he couldn't get enough. He wanted to feel her come on his tongue, taste it on his lips and in his beard, and then make her come again.

"Use your fingers," she gasped. "Please, Ope, your fingers!"

He cursed under his breath and slid one finger into her. "Like that?" he said. He hooked it until she shuddered, and he tapped against her G-spot again and again. "That what you want?"

"Uh huh," she said. "Like that, yes, fuck that's it!"

"How many you want, baby?" he said. He licked at the piercing and she let out a breathless keen. "Tell me how many fingers to use on you. Just one?"

"Two!" she gasped. "Two, I need more!"

He grinned. "I know you do, sweetheart. I know." He pulled the first one out and thrust back in again with two, and her hips nearly came up off the counter. "You gonna come for me, Olivia?"

"Yeah, Ope, fuck I'm so close! Please, baby, don't stop!"

"Wasn't gonna," he rasped. He sucked on her clit, flicking the piercing as he did, and her back arched. Long and slow, hard and quick, with his fingers curling against her G-spot every time she wiggled, and he felt her go tense.

"Oh God," she moaned. "Opie, please, yes fuck oh my God!"

She came in a rush, a sudden burst of pleasure that left her voiceless and breathless, and all she could do was buck against him, her heels drumming his back and her thighs tightening on his shoulders. She yanked at his hair, almost hard enough to hurt, but he didn't let up, just kept working her clit with his tongue to take her higher and higher.

"Fuck," she said, almost soundless. "God oh God oh God please please yes!"

He groaned into her slick skin and the vibration made her shudder all over again. He started to ease off a little, and she slumped back against the cabinet with a long breath.

He kissed the inside of her thigh and smiled up at her. "You okay?"

"Uh huh," she said with a stunned nod.

Licking his swollen lips, he rose to his feet and pulled her close for a kiss. She sucked her own wetness off his mouth and he gave a helpless moan. "You are so fuckin' sexy," he said. He tangled both hands in her hair and her legs went around his waist and his tongue plunged in and out of her mouth.

"Ready for more?" he murmured, nuzzling the pulse point in her throat.

"What?" she said on a laugh. "Already?"

"I'm gonna lick you all night, baby. Sorry. That's just the way it is."

She shivered, but before she could answer the doorbell rang. He pulled away with a reluctant sigh and dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. "Okay, first we eat pizza…then I eat you. Sound good?"

"Yeah," she finally managed. "Yeah, yes. Sounds like one hell of a way to spend an evening."

"Was hoping you'd say that." He kissed her again, lingering over it, and it was just starting to turn desperate when the bell went again.

He let out a groan of frustration. "Okay. Be right back." But he didn't move, just kept kissing her, and finally she pushed him away with a giggle.

"Go!" she said. "Pizza awaits!"

"Sorry, sorry. I guess I'm hungry for something else."

"Mmmm," she said. "I am too." She nipped at his lips. "But pizza."

"Right. Pizza." One more quick kiss and he pushed away from the counter. "Be right back."

"I'll be here."

From the doorway he cast her a long look, his eyes tracing a fiery path up the length of her legs, along her body, and finally to her face. "You better be," he said. "I'm definitely not done with you."

"Don't worry, baby," she said, her voice a silky promise. "I'm not done with you, either."

I took a few days off from this one to sort of...solidify my vision? if that makes sense. I know where I'm going, and I hope you guys'll stick around for the ride. ;)