Title: Havana

Summary: Eliot meets up with an old friend while the team takes a short vacation.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own Leverage or any of the characters associated with the show. I only claim ownership to the character that I created. Also, no profits are being made off of this story. It's only for your entertainment.

Chapter 3

"Eliot?" She whimpered into the darkness.

The man turned, "Natalia," his face spread into a warm smile as she dropped her knife and crashed into his waiting arms. He tightened his grip around her and she buried her face into his neck. It was the embrace of two old friends. Two people who needed each other's touch right at that moment.

"What are you doing here?" She loosened her grip around his neck enough to be face to face with him. The words formed a question but her mind wasn't about to protest his presence.

"A little bird told me that you'd be here," his hands moved from her lower back to trace a path down the silky material over her arms.

"Hardison."

"Mmhmm," she could feel his chest rumble as he growled in confirmation.

"But that would mean that you were looking for me. Even Hardison can't find the name I used to book this room," she asserted slowly, watching his features for any reaction.

"Wa…was I not supposed to?" His eyes took on the look of a little boy who may have just done something wrong.

She smiled, "no, it's just a surprise, is all." She secretly delighted in the fact that she was being pursued by a man. She didn't subscribe to many feminine wiles, but this one was a bit too base to shake. She ran her hands over his chest. "I've missed you."

"God, I've missed you too," he tightened his grip around her once again. Eliot rested his forehead against Natalia's, their noses touching, simply enjoying the feel of being this close to another person. It helped that said person also happened to be a beautiful woman. His job was high stress, high energy, and required him to constantly watch the backs of his four teammates as well as his own. But with Natalia, he knew he could let that all go. That, for once, she would have his back. That's why he loved being with her so much. He could be himself without pretense or expectation. That's why he put the effort into finding her during the month that the team took for vacation. Or at least, made Hardison put in the effort. Which required just as much gall as doing it himself. Eliot wasn't one to ask for favors. Least of all from Alec Hardison.

He moved his hand to cup her cheek and tip her face up to meet his. Her arms wrapped around his neck and with one hand pulled off his knit cap and tossed it onto the floor somewhere. She could finally run her fingers through that long, silky, brown hair. He growled seductively at the sensation which caused her to laugh softly. Eliot's eyes traced the strong contours of her face, highlighted in silver light. She still looked as beautiful as he remembered. Big loose waves framed her cheekbones, glowing with a natural shine from the heat. Her green eyes were locked on his blue ones, never faltering. And then there were those lips. He had always joked that she was as close as he would ever get to kissing Angelina Jolie. She used to advise him to take full advantage of it; she loved the way he kissed. His gaze must have lingered a bit too long, because she had ceased her ministrations on his hair, and was now staring at his mouth.

Their moment was shattered by something bumping into his boot, and tugging on the leg of his jeans. Natalia looked down and laughed as she knelt to pick up the little pup, who had finally gotten up the courage to confront the intruder.

"Eliot Spencer, meet my little Hannibal," she cradled the dog in her arms and Eliot grinned and ran his fingers through his scraggly fur. He had always been good with animals. Hannibal began licking Eliot's hand, his tail wagging furiously, causing him to wiggle in Natalia's arms. "I think he likes you," she laughed. "See?" This directed at the dog. "He's not so bad," she nuzzled the puppy's nose.

"Ain't he a feisty little guy. Where'd you pick this one up?"

"The street. He was hungry and his fur was all matted, and he had these big puppy dog eyes," her voice took on a baby-ish tone.

"You would pick up a stray off the streets of Cuba," Eliot smirked. She was a strange contradiction; a female assassin with a soft spot for animals. Fish, cats, dogs, big critters, small critters. If it needed her help, she did the best she could, which was better than anyone else he'd ever seen. To Natalia, a life was a life, big or small, and no one was worth more than another. It was a philosophy that didn't necessarily carry over to people, but that was a different situation entirely. One that he could relate to.

"I'm going to go make sure he gets back to sleep," she smiled. "Turn a light on, make yourself comfortable. There's water in the fridge, and the remote's on the table," her voice faded slightly as she padded down the hallway and into the bathroom. "Do you want to take a shower?" She called over her shoulder.

"It can wait until mornin'," Eliot flipped on a light, perched on the edge of the bed and began to unlace his shoes. He stopped to pick her knife up off the floor, sliding it back under her pillow. There were certain things he could count on with her, and that was one of them.

He went back to unlacing his shoes and noticed that now the heat had started getting to him. He pulled off his boots and socks, neatly placing them against this side of the bathroom wall. His shirt came next, which he meticulously folded and placed on the dresser, followed by his belt and jeans. He adjusted the waistband of his dark blue boxer briefs and looked up when he felt the weight of Natalia's gaze. "Jeans aren't the best choice for Cuba in July, huh?"

"No, I can't say that they are," she smiled and leaned her right shoulder against the wall, stealing a glance at his muscled fighter's body. There were one or two more scars than she remembered, but the sight of him still caused her to ache. She cleared her throat, "no bags?"

"It was kinda last minute. There are only so many private flights from Boston to Havana," he shrugged. "I hope it's ok," he cracked a smile and sheepishly ran his fingers through his hair.

"I think it'll be just fine. Especially considering what I've taken to wearing to bed in this heat," she swept past him to her side of the bed as he flipped off the light. When he snuck a glance at her, he just caught the image of her black silk robe slipping off of her shoulders and being tossed onto the back of a chair. It was at that point that he lost polite control of his arousal.

"Well now, that just ain't fair," he narrowed his eyes a bit as she smirked at him over her shoulder, a lock of hair falling just so in front of her face. Damn, girl. He felt himself harden even more at the sight.

"Go ahead, nothing's stopping you," she read his thoughts as she sat down on the bed, back facing him, and proceeded to briefly check her phone for any new messages. Eliot stared brazenly as he pulled off his boxer briefs and tossed them onto the comforter that she had piled on the floor earlier. He sat down and stalked his way across the bed until he was within a foot of her, leaning back on his haunches. "Hey," he rumbled. Natalia laid the phone down before locking eyes with him.

Eliot's hand flew to her jaw and pulled her into a hard kiss. He sucked and bit her bottom lip causing her to moan and bury her hands in his hair, his stubble scratching her chin. He shifted his position until he was sitting back against the headboard of the bed, pulling the agent onto his lap, never breaking their kiss. Soon her tongue was in his mouth, playing against his own, tasting as much of him as she could. God, how she missed the way he tasted. He ran his hands across her back and down to grip her hips, pressing her closer to him as he slowly, torturously, ground himself against her.

"You're so wet," he growled between kisses, fighting the urge to pound into her right there. But he knew how she operated; foreplay was what she really delighted in. That was the main course. Sex was just dessert. Really fucking good dessert.

"I have been since you walked through that door," she whispered huskily as she moved to kiss his neck. She trailed her tongue over his carotid artery and bit down just behind it, prompting him to grunt and tighten his grip on her hips. She laved the spot soothingly before slowly working her way up to his ear. Natalia traced its outline with the tip of her nose before sucking on his earlobe, her tongue playing with the captive ball on his hoop earring.

God, it felt so good. His ears were a well kept secret. She had discovered, long ago, that they were surprisingly sensitive, and she wasn't going to let that go. His hips involuntarily bucked up to hers, causing his cock to rub hard against her clit.

"Mmmfff," she let out as she buried her face in his sweaty shoulder. He laughed softly and moved a hand up to clutch her hair, gently pulling back to expose her throat and chest. He supported her with his left arm and gripped her hair with his right as he nipped and sucked his way down her neck and across her clavicle to capture her nipple between his teeth. "Oh God,Eliot," her voice a husky whimper. Her fingers were buried in his damp hair, pulling and tugging, wanting more than just this.

She managed to pull one hand away, trailing it down the hitter's humid skin, feeling his muscles strain against its confines. Bicep, chest, stomach, oh that stomach. Rock hard muscle padded by the only bit of fat he carried. He was all man, and that man appreciated good food. She found it sexy that he took care of himself, and didn't care about getting rid of those extra five pounds around his midsection. Her fingers found that trail of hair starting at his belly button and ending exactly where she wanted to go.

Natalia wrapped her hand around his aching dick, expertly touching, twisting, and gently tugging, working his cock almost better than he could. Although, the fact that it wasn't his hand down there actually did make it even better. Eliot released her breast and tipped his head back until it hit the headboard, running a hand through his sweat dampened hair.

"I take it that feels good," it was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah," he groaned, his voice even rougher than normal. She always joked how he naturally spoke like Christian Bale's version of Batman, gruff and gravelly, and so absolutely sexy. And in the midst of primal expression of energy, be it a fight, or a good fuck, Eliot's voice never failed to get deeper, coarser, and 500 times sexier, if that was possible. "Unnghh," again, he slammed his head against the headboard. He was getting frustrated. Foreplay was good, especially with her, but they hadn't seen each other in a year, he hadn't had sex in three months, and when the most exotic woman you've ever met was writhing in your lap, completely naked and soaking wet, it was hard to stick to semi-dry humping and hand jobs. He made a move to toss her onto her back and pin her to the bed, but her ever present fighter's instinct anticipated him and she shoved Eliot back into the headboard, propping herself up on her knees. He dug the fingers of one hand into the back of her thigh and growled, while the other moved to take her former place pampering his dick. Her nails gripped his shoulders and she moved to whisper in his ear.

"Fuck me Eliot Spencer."

Those were the words he was waiting for.

He rubbed the tip of his cock against her, teasing her. She yanked his hair and he complied, sinking inside her inch by torturous inch, finally able to feel her wet heat clench around him. For a moment no one moved, their heavy breathing cutting through the darkness. Eliot was well endowed and uncut, and Natalia buried her face into his shoulder as her body adjusted to his girth. She felt so tight, so hot against his sensitive skin, so fucking good. Eliot pulled out and thrust into her again, turning his face towards hers, waiting for a response. She angled her eyes at his, and for a second he thought something was wrong. Perhaps he had hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted. But when she cracked that devilish smile, he matched it, and let loose.

Eliot pounded into her, his thrusts short, hard, and so fucking perfect. He gripped her ass hard enough to bruise, and something primal deep down inside hoped that she would. Of course, throwing that seductive strut off tomorrow would be a nice bonus too. He wanted to mark his territory, and the thought of it alone made him pump his hips faster, forcing her body to accept more and more of him. Conversely, it also made him feel like a bit of an asshole. He didn't want to hurt her. But the hitter remembered that she was an assassin after all. And she had always gotten off on hair pulling, biting, and clawing. A little bit of soreness wasn't so bad.

She soon found his rhythm, bucking against him, meeting his every move, reveling in the feeling of being penetrated. Finally being fucked. Eliot was an expert at satisfying her, hammering away at just the right angle, punctuating his furious pace with slower, harder thrusts that ground his pubic bone against her clit, offering the perfect stimulation. His mouth found hers and she bit his bottom lip before her tongue collided with his. She wasn't going to last much longer, and judging from how shallow his breathing had become, neither would he.

"Eliot?" she hissed.

"Yeah?" he ground out as best he could as he thrust up to meet her as she rode him.

"Giddy up."

The whisper barely left her lips when he threw her backwards onto the bed, knelt in front of her and slammed back into the assassin with all the force his muscles would allow. She lifted her legs between them, crossed at the ankles, and planted her feet against his chest as he pulled her ass up onto his lap. She pushed against him, countering his force as he leaned into her, making him work even harder with each thrust, which he found ridiculously sexy.

His view wasn't half bad either. Her dark bronze skin was slicked with sweat, all of its contours highlighted by the moon. Her full breasts bounced with every thrust and her face was a perfect picture of ecstasy. The assassin's dark hair spilled across the white sheets, back arched, pressing her head against the mattress. Her eyes were shut tightly, and her bee-stung lips were moist and parted, chest heaving with every breath. It was then that he noticed he may have some bruises of his own come morning. Her fingers dug into his strong thighs pulling him closer to her. She wanted him, deeper, harder, and faster. The thought made him close his eyes, and his breathing became sharper. He couldn't last much longer. She felt too fucking good.

Natalia stole a glance at the hitter and moaned at what she saw. Eliot's shoulder length hair was dripping wet, the moisture causing it to revert back to its naturally curly state. Stray strands were plastered to his neck and forehead, and his skin was covered in trails of sweat. He was biting his bottom lip, nostrils flaring from the exertion. In the dim light she could make out his tense chest pressing against her black polished toes, and the muscles in his arms, which were more pronounced from pulling her hips into his. Eliot opened his eyes and met her gaze, cracking a smirk through unruly tresses. Natalia arched an eyebrow seductively in response.

"Close," it was both a statement and a question that fell from her moist lips. He untangled her legs from between them, leaning to support his weight with his arms, and invaded her mouth with his tongue.

"Natalia," he growled against her, "you still a screamer?" His thrusting momentarily slowed to a grind.

"Shut the fuck up and find out," she buried her hands in his damp hair as Eliot slammed into her. The assassin's hips bucked up to meet his, but he held her down with a strong, calloused hand to her stomach. She had to suppress the reflex to ram her elbow into his jaw. He had unknowingly mashed his hand down precisely where she had been kicked. She grunted instead and pulled his hand off of her, bringing it to her mouth, sucking on his fingers to hide the fact that he was hurting her. If he so much as suspected it, everything would stop. And right now, that was the last thing she needed.

It was at that point that sex became a desperate fight for pleasure. The hitter hammered into her, balls slapping against her skin, cock buried to the hilt. Natalia let his hand go and arched her back, breasts inches from his mouth. He nipped her taught skin and she cried out, throwing her head back, exposing her neck for him to bite. It was just the distraction she needed. She shoved Eliot off of her, sending him crashing back against the headboard and within a fraction of a second she was in his face, he was back inside her, their mouths mashed together and hips furiously pumping out of pure greed. The move alone was about to send Eliot over the edge. He loved that this woman could fight back. That she wasn't afraid. That she wanted to dominate him as much as he wanted to rule her. He tightened his arms around her waist and let out a deep growl from the back of his throat. She fisted his hair and clawed at his back introducing her own brand of pleasure through pain. Eliot would literally only last a few more seconds. He immediately snaked a hand between them, his ring and middle fingers finding her clit. She moaned and raked her fingernails across his chest, as he bit and sucked on her neck. The hitter pounded into the assassin, one, two, more times before his hand pressed down hard against her.

"Ohhh...FUCK…ELIOT…" she screamed, throwing her head back and arching her spine, breath hitched in her throat. She rocked into his hand, using his fingers to milk every last shudder from her orgasm. The sight of her, the feel of her body go rigid in his arms, her walls clenching down rhythmically around him all made him drive his cock into her one last time, plunging in to the hilt.

"NATALIA…" Eliot coarsely ground out, pressing his head back against the headboard, mouth falling open, letting out a harsh, deep, rumbling growl as his hips spasmed, forcing her to accept every burning ounce of him.

For a good thirty seconds they sat, chests heaving, until Natalia tenderly trailed the fingers of her right hand across his collarbone and up behind his sweat soaked neck, tipping his face to within inches of hers. His hot breath ruffled stray strands of her damp hair, and she ran her fingers through his sodden locks, taking in the sight of his now tranquil face. He leaned in to capture her bottom lip, languidly sucking on her mouth in wet, lip-y kisses. He released her and let out soft laugh, prompting a lazy smile to spread across her face. Eliot wrapped his arms around her waist, and hers clung to his neck, each enjoying their hormone-induced haze a bit too much.

"Mmmm, alright, I'm going to have to get off of you now, because it's way too hot," Natalia undraped her arms, voice still low and husky.

"It's way too hot, or I'm way too hot?" Eliot quirked an eyebrow.

"Don't push it," she beamed, gently climbing off of his lap, rolling to his right, and sinking down into the soft mattress. He scooted down until he was level with her, propped up on his right elbow, facing her. She looked up into his big blue-grey eyes, seeing a peace that hadn't been there before. She smiled and rolled over to her right, snuggling back into him. He leaned down to kiss her cheek, but she turned just slightly, their lips meeting instead.

"Goodnight, darlin'," Eliot whispered against her mouth.

"Night, babe," she answered, lacing one of her long legs through both of his.

Eliot couldn't sleep right away, be it from the adrenaline, the heat, or just because he was him. He instead opted to lightly trace the contours of her body, fingers running over her arm, hip, thigh, butt, and up across her back and shoulders. His touch was soothing, and Natalia quickly drifted off, finally feeling tranquil, calm. Finally feeling safe. Eliot fell asleep soon after, with the same emotions washing over him, soothing his entire being.