DISCLAIMER: This is a love story about two consenting female adults. Can't handle it, don't like it, don't read it. We're just borrowing Dick Wolf's characters for fun; we aren't making any money from it.
AUTHOR' NOTE: When two writing heads get together in a round robin...
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
It's Gotta Be Love
By Katherine Quinn & Adrienne Lee
"Hey! No fair! You tricked me!" You complain, staring down your nose. You have no idea how funny you look crossed eyed.
"Life's not fair!" I throw back at you.
"How mature is that?" You snort.
"You started it," I counter.
"Oh, but you look so cute with jelly on your nose."
"Did you finally run out of three-dollar words?"
"I'm not talking to you, Olivia Benson." I pout, and turn around.
"Come on, Alex, I was just teasing."
"Well, stop it, okay?" I sniffle.
"C'mere. You're not really crying, are you?" You ask, and pull me close.
"Gotcha!" I grin, wiping another dollop of peanut butter on your nose.
"Alex Get it off my nose. Now!" You order, then roll your eyes. "What's gotten into you? You're acting like a little kid."
"It's good to let your hair down once in a while, Liv. Don't you know that?"
"You're so uptight!"
"All right." I smile, and lean in.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting the peanut butter off your nose, like you asked," I remind you, then lean forward.
You start to back away, just a little. The couch behind you blocks your retreat. "Alex?"
"Just hush," I tell you, and lick the peanut butter off your nose. And while you're not looking, I smear my fingers down the center of your chest.
"Hey," you start. Your protest dies on your lips when my mouth drifts down, following the trail.
I let my tongue twirl slowly along your skin, licking up every bit of the peanut butter. "There. You're clean."
502 Six Months
My eyes open slowly, blinking against the warm light of the soft morning. I take a deep breath and stretch. My back cracks the same way it always does and I feel you snuggle into me, our familiar morning routine. I can feel the heat of your body next to mine, something that's been familiar, comforting,, and routine.
Living with you, being with you, has made my life complete. Your smile is all I need sometimes to make a bad day become better. It's a cheesy cliché, it's horrible to rely on you for happiness, but I can't help but realize that you bring it to me in such abundance. We've worked out a happy medium, a conglomeration that let both of us be happy.
I turn over to face you as you settle back into a comfortable sleep. You crinkle your nose as I kiss it gently.
"What time is it?" You moan as I lean over you and look at the blinking clock.
"6:34." I say back.
"Go back to bed." You moan, turning over and pulling my arm over you.
"But it's a beautiful day," I say kissing the back of your neck.
"Liv, it's Saturday," you mumble as you pull covers up over your head.
"But it's a special Saturday." I say gently.
"What's so great about it?" You ask grumpily.
"It's beautiful outside, look," I say, gesturing to the outside.
"No," you moan.
"But today's special?" I say, poking your back.
"Liv, we both have the same day off, I get it, let me sleep for the love of God."
"But Alex," I whine.
"Sleep Liv." You demand.
I turn over onto my back. "Fine. If you don't want to celebrate "
"No " I say slowly, "I've been sober six months today."
"It's been six months since I've been sober," you tell me with a soft whine.
"That's great, Sweetie!" I roll over, raise up and kiss you on the nose. Then I get back onto my side. "Now can we go back to sleep?" I pretend a yawn, and pull your arm around me.
"Fine. You can go back to sleep. You don't care."
"Yeah, I do. I'm just sleepy. You should be, too," I remind you. "We didn't get to bed until after 2:00 this morning."
"Come on, I do care." I sigh. "It's just, you know, it seems like yesterday when you moved your stuff."
"One month two weeks and six days," you provide quickly.
Good girl, I praise you silently, and smile to myself. "You kept track?"
"Of course! If I don't, obviously no one will."
"Aww... come on, Liv. I have court dates, conferences, seminars, and all the other times and dates I have to keep track. Meanwhile, you just catch the perv. And when you do, it becomes another series of dates on my schedule."
"Fine, whatever," you pout.
Maybe I've yanked your chain enough. You're so much fun to play with. I turn over, and kiss you, on the lips this time.
You try to fight me, try to keep your lips from parting on their own accord.
"Come on, Liv, don't be mad," I whisper, teasing you with the tip of my tongue. Until you let me in, and slide your tongue against mine...
Until you shift and press down on me, your hands skimming across my skin, your mouth moving down my chin, my throat.
Sucking in a shallow breath, I pull your head up. "Hold that thought," I say, pushing you away slightly.
"Now what, Alex?" You respond crossly.
I kiss you, then reach into the night-stand drawer. Pulling out the small box I tucked into the corner yesterday, when you weren't looking, I grin. "Happy Anniversary!"
"What's that?" I ask you as you pull a box out of the bedside stand.
"It's your present." You say smiling at me sleepily.
"For what?" I ask in disbelief.
"For making it to six months."
"You.." I try to piece it together in my mind, how you could have known. I can barely believe you remembered, but I should have known better. You're so sweet, so thoughtful, so mine. "You got me something?" I manage to ask you slowly.
"Yeah " You say, snuggling back up against my body, your face aglow with a smile.
"Is it a puppy?" I ask, shaking the tiny box, delighting in your frustration.
"Yeah, Liv, it's a puppy." You say sarcastically.
"I've always wanted a puppy," I say shaking the box, knowing how much you hate the idea of living with a dog, not to mention that we live in an apartment that'd never allow dogs, at least not one that I'd want. "It's not barking." I say. "What if it's dead? You wouldn't give me a dead puppy would you?"
"It's not a puppy."
"But you "
"Just open it," you warn.
I tip open the small box and look inside. "It's a bracelet," I say slowly.
"It's a charm bracelet." You correct me.
"But there aren't any charms."
"You have to earn those."
I look at you quizzically.
"For every year you're sober, you get a charm. Eventually, you'll fill it up."
I can feel tears in my eyes, tears of happiness. "That's .really sweet." I manage.
"Don't cry," you say, kissing me gently.
"I can't help it," I say, wiping the tears away. "It's just it's really sweet," I say slowly, leaning into you
I smile at you and pull you towards me. "Come on, Liv. Don't cry," I soothe, tasting your tears on my lips. "I thought we're celebrating."
"I am, we are." You choke, laughing. "Tears of joy, can't help myself."
I know. I run my fingers across your smile, and smile with you. It makes me so happy to see you happy...
"It's just, it's so sweet. No one has ever done, no one's ever been... I can't tell you, can't tell you how much this means, to me," you stammer, brimming with excitement. Bending your head, you kiss me. "This is just so cool!"
I laugh, and take the bracelet from your hand. "Guess it was a good choice?" I say, self-consciously, while putting it on for you.
"Yeah, it's even better than a puppy!"
"I'm glad." Reaching up, I kiss you again, softly. "Now, if you don't mind, can we go back to sleep?"
"But I'm not sleepy." You complain, your hands sliding up from my waist.
I stop your roaming, and yawn. "Then you can watch me sleep. Just 'til 8:00? Then we can do whatever you want?"
"Yeah. Goodnight." I say, and close my eyes. Then I open them again. "What's with you and puppies lately?"
"Why, what do you mean?"
"You keep mentioning it. You know we can't have a dog, right?"
"I know, we live in an apartment. And you hate dogs."
"I don't hate them. I just, I just don't think we'll have time to take good care of one," I justify. "Besides, like you said, we live in an apartment. Anyway, good night."
"'Night, Sweetie," you whisper, and kiss me on the back of my neck. "Thanks again for the bracelet."
"My pleasure," I mumble, and let your warmth and the soft sounds of your breathing lull me to sleep. Just as I'm drifting off, I feel movements against my stomach. "Liv? What are you doing?"
"Do you know there are twenty-two links? To the bracelet?"
"No..." I respond slowly, not entirely sure what you're getting at. "I didn't sit there and count it."
506 Acting Up
I pull at the bracelet on my wrist and notice the small holders where I assume I will clip the forthcoming charms. I pull at them slowly as I realize that there can only be a finite number. Don't you expect to be with me forever? Okay, maybe that's not fair, but it's an excuse to wake you back up and ask you about it.
"Alex?" I say quietly, in a near whisper.
"What?" You snap back. Maybe I should just let this go nah.
"There are only twenty two charm holders." I say slowly.
"And?" You say back.
"So does that mean you don't plan to have to buy them after 22 years?"
"No, it just means that after 22 years you can pick and choose. You'll have an assortment."
"But what if I want to wear them all?"
"I'll buy you another bracelet, now go back to sleep." You say, trying to end the conversation.
"What if you get me an ugly charm and I hate it?"
"Olivia Benson," You say turning over. "You're worse than a kid on Christmas morning."
I try to give you an innocent look, but it doesn't work when I see the irritation on your face.
"Go to sleep. Or go watch TV, or read a book, or do something until eight o'clock when you can talk to me next."
You turn back over and close your eyes.
I sit quietly for a minute, and then I poke you in the back.
"What?" You say exasperated.
"You meant that starting now, right?" I ask you.
"Yes, I mean right now." I tell you, then soften my voice, "Please Liv?" Without waiting for your response, I pull the covers over my head.
Ahhh. Nice quietude.
Waitaminute. My eyes snap open.
We went from one day at a time to living together. Suddenly, we're talking about what happens to your bracelet after 22 years?
After 22 years.
Maybe I'm reading too much into this. Yeah, that must be it.
Wait. This puppy thing.
Do you really want a dog? Or is this a manifestation of your desire for a bigger commitment? People go to court and battle for custody and visitation rights over dogs. Not fish.
Are you going to want to buy a house together next? So you can have your dog? Then what? Register our relationship with the City?
The lawyer part of me wants to run. No legal entanglements! I hear her scream.
The woman part of me though
I take deep breaths. Once. Twice. Thrice. Tenth. Thirteenth. I'm still wide awake. Meanwhile, you're remarkably quiet. I wonder what you're doing.
Cabot, you know you tend to overanalyze. I try to convince myself. She's probably just acting up, or being playful, or both. You know she does that.
But I also know your actions tend to foretell your recognition of your wants. It may take you a while, but eventually you'll put two and two together
Should I bring it up now? Push the issue? Summer's approaching. It'll be the best time to look for a house Am I really ready, my lawyer self? Will I be ready by then? So soon?
No, I'm sure I'm just jumping to conclusions. We just moved in together one month two weeks and six days ago. You can't possibly be wanting more
Your sigh interrupts my musing. You sigh again, longer, louder this time.
I roll over, and pull the cover down. "What?"
"I'm bored," you sulk. "And I don't wanna read, or watch TV, or any of that stuff."
"All right, you win." I curl up against you, and wrap my arm around your waist. "So what do you want to do?"
You lean into me, wrapping your hands around me and sighing, "Okay, so what do you want to do?"
I let my mind wander. I don't really know what I want to do; I hadn't quite thought that far ahead. I just don't want to lie here and stare at the wall, but beyond that, my plans for the day are pretty blank. I watch the clock flashing, and I almost feel bad for you, my body wakes me up this early. Sleeping isn't my forte. I suppose that doesn't mean I should keep you awake demand your attention, even if it is a special day.
"You're sleepy though," I say, knowing I've won this round.
"I am, but someone can't control themselves." You say, squeezing me.
"You?" I ask.
"Yeah, Liv, me," you say, pulling yourself closer to me, your head resting against my shoulder, your arm carelessly thrown over my stomach, your legs entangled in mine.
"I thought so," I say, "You're definitely trouble."
You sigh and mumble, "I don't know how you do it."
"Do what?" "Get up so early with a smile on your face." You say, closing your eyes.
"I wake up with you." I say softly, giving you a quick squeeze..
"That's sweet," You say gently kissing my neck.
"I try," I say, " but it's true."
"Do you have plans for today?" You ask me.
"Not really," I respond, stretching again.
"So you woke me up to do nothing?" "Something like that."
"Are you going to make me breakfast?"
"If you want me to." I offer, smiling. I pull myself out of your embrace and stand next to the bed "Love you," I say, before I walk towards the kitchen smiling as you shout you love me too
As soon as you left the bed, I miss your warmth. I miss you. It's a good thing we both have to get up early during the week, even though sometimes for different reasons. I'd hate to go through this every day
Still, I should take advantage of the next however long it's going to be before you have breakfast ready. Grabbing your pillow, I let your scent lull me back to half sleep.
Soon, smells of breakfast invaded my dreams. I can feel my stomach rumble, drawing me into consciousness. Then I hear your soft steps. Next, I sense your weight on the bed, hovering over me. Now, your fingers brushing my hair away from my neck. Your lips on my skin.
"Breakfast is ready, Sleepyhead," you whisper.
"Mmm " I stretch against you in your embrace, feeling a lot less tired than before. Glancing over at the clock, I've been asleep deeper and longer than I had thought. "You let me sleep for an extra half hour."
You smile sweetly. "You needed it."
"So what did you make?"
"You'll see," you say, and start to climb off.
I pull you back. "Thank you."
"You don't know if you're gonna like it yet. I hope you will though."
"I'm sure I will." I stretch again, luxuriating in the feel of your toned body. "And thanks for being you."
"You're welcome, Sweetie," you say, and kiss me on my forehead. "But if you don't stop doing that, and get out of bed, breakfast's gonna get cold."
"Don't stop doing what?" I bat my lashes at you, and grin innocently.
"You know what, Alex."
"You mean this?" I arch along your body, sliding my hands under your pants to cup your ass. "Or do you mean this?" I ask, then kiss you full on the mouth.
"I thought you wanted breakfast, Alex."
"I do." My stomach chooses this exact moment to gurgle. Ignoring my hunger, and with your cooperation, I turn us over. "You can be starter."
"God, after last night, you still " you protest weakly, closing your eyes. "You're insatiable."
After almost two months of living together, I'm not sure I care. I peel off your shirt, dropping it to the floor, and press our naked breasts together. "Sue me."
510 Breakfast In Bed
I hover above you while your run your hands up my body, teasing me, pulling at my shirt. Your fingers slide up my sides, and pull the shirt roughly over my head as your tongue claims my mouth in a sultry kiss.
"But breakfast," I say, breaking the contact, moaning as you lean up and take my breast into your mouth.. I can't help the feeling that rushes through me, the arousal. The warmth of your tongue, the heat of your body, the racing of my heart all come together into a beautiful symphony. I wonder how we ever get anything done, not that we do this constantly well, not that much more than everyone else I know well
Elliot laughs at me, says it's the honeymoon period and that I should learn to enjoy it because in ten years, all I'll have is the memory of now. I wonder if he's rightif he's just jealous when he sighs when I walk into the bull pen with a huge smile on my face. Then he'll make a joke and everything will go back to being about my embarrassment and his comfort.
Will you still find me attractive when I'm older? Is he right? Will you still want me like this? In ten years will you still want to touch me this way, when things are sagging where they shouldn't be? Will you love me with the same fire that you have right now?
I hope you will. Of course, you'll be older too but I know that I will always love you. It's harder to believe those things about yourself.
You smile at me slyly, "You can be the first course."
I think about the creative French toast that's getting cold, and then I think about your fingers on my body and suddenly the breakfast doesn't seem so important.
You kiss me, your fingers pull at the waistband of my pants. I feel you moving under me, trying to flip me onto my back, and gently I let you.
You grin above me, a devious grin as you kiss me deeply, rub your body against mine, while I feel you moaning into my mouth. I try to reach for you, to touch you, to caress you. To mimic your movements on my body on yours, but you whisper "no".
You take my hands and hold them above my head while you kiss me. "Let me love you," you say gently into my ear, and when you let my hands go I leave them laced behind my head exactly where you left them.
You slide down my body trailing kisses, leaving a warm line down the middle of my chest. I take a deep breath, and close my eyes, focusing on the sensations forcing waves of arousal through my body.
As I slide my body along yours, teasing you with my flesh, I realize for the first time how much you're like a paradox
You gripe about the fish, yet, you're the first one who noticed that they seemed to be eating their plants, and ran out for more. When people look at us, there's no doubt in their minds who wears the lace lingerie to bed, and you would agree with them. Yet, when it comes to breakfast, lunch and dinner, you have no problem putting on your apron, and quite happily, I might add.
And as I moan into your mouth, I feel your hands on me, touching me, caressing me. While I'm making love to you, smoothing my fingers, my palms over your soft skin, you're trying to press your hard thigh between my legs.
Looking back, back to our first time, I realize how different things were between us then. You were so hesitant, almost demure when I kissed you, and kissed a trail down your body. And now
Now I shiver to your hands squeezing my breasts, my ass, to your teeth grazing my throat.
And I wonder just how much we've changed, both of us. Just how much we've grown, in these few short months.
I take your wrists and hold them above your head, and kiss you deeply. When I pull back, you look at me with questions in your eyes.
"Let me, let me make love to you," I whisper, brushing my lips along the chiseled line of your jaw. When I let go, you move your hands behind your head, and smile at me.
Your smile, it's relaxed, trusting. Your body speaks control, the way you're holding yourself, stretching deeper into the bed. It's almost like you're boldly leaving it up to me, letting me play. Yet, I see the hint of uncertainty in your gaze.
Do you still have trouble with me admiring your body, thinking you're beautiful and loving your body like you do mine?
Or have you moved on to other worries and concerns?
I kiss you again, deeply, passionately, conveying all my love for you in this kiss. And I kiss a slow line down your throat, across your shoulders, through the valley of your cleavage.
I can feel your arousal growing. I can feel your strong muscles twitch against my body. Your deep sighs, your ragged breaths. The way you try not to buck up against me. Leaning back. Surrendering.
Smiling, I press my lips to the top of your breast. I tease your skin with the tip of my tongue, drawing firm, lingering circles. Indulging myself in the sight of you, the way your flesh trembles to the rise and fall of your chest. The sounds of your stifled whimpers.
"I love you," I promise, and take your nipple into my mouth
Your tongue presses against my breast as you assure me that you love me, assure me that you'll always love me.
Can you know that's how I'm taking it now? That it's a promise that you won't leave me when I'm old and gray and you can still get someone younger, more attractive.
If you did know would it scare you?
I fear it would. I'm not sure you'd be happy to know about the way I've learned to depend on you when I refused to let myself believe in anyone. Even the people who raised me, my mother and her booze, I knew early I could never rely on them, but when I come home now, you're here, and you care about what happens to me.
How did I ever get so lucky?
Your clear blue eyes stare into mine when you say you love me, that way that makes me feel like I'm the only person you've ever loved. I feel as though I can see into your heart, see the love that lives there, as you touch my body gently, carefully. You make me respond to you, make me feel the warmth of your tongue, make me feel the care from your hands.
I don't know what makes me believe that we'll stay together, but as you kiss lower down my body, a warm trail down my stomach of gentle warm kisses. God knows we certainly don't have a good track record with staying together, but I love you, and that's supposed to be enough. I've seen too many bad movies where the perfect people find themselves together.
I feel my body arching involuntarily as you gently kiss the insides of my thighs, teasing me.
I remember sex before you, before this kind of love. It was something I did to pass time, to blow off tension, stress. It's different now, I enjoy it more, enjoy more than the visceral animal lusting that it was.
You dip your head between my legs, your tongue pressing into where I want to feel it the most.
A gentle rhythm, easy and slow enough to tease me, enough to push my body past gentle arousal.
Gentle enough to cause my body to throb, my muscles to tense and a waves of pleasure to rush through my body.
Your name rushes from my lips, and melts into the air
I love the way you scream my name when you come. Love the way you pull me up to you, and kiss me, deep and tender, to taste yourself on my breath. The way you still blush when I pull away from your lips, and smile down at you.
You have no idea how beautiful you are.
Strong, yes. Physically attractive, sure. Those attributes you'd readily admit. Somehow you don't see the kind of beauty I see, one from within, that shines so brightly through your eyes when you look at me. When you smile at me.
The smile that's reserved for me, and only me. My smile. You have no idea how endearing that it.
"I love you," I tell you, and kiss you again on the lips. "Thank you."
You blink. "For what?"
"You're welcome, I guess." You smile, and begin to slide your hands up my body. The look in your eyes changing rapidly, turning feral. "About breakfast," you say, your brow lifting suggestively.
"And thanks for making food." I kiss you on the nose, and grin, and ease away from you before you can roll us over.
"What about me?"
Just to be difficult, I tease, "You made yourself breakfast, too, right?"
"You know what I mean, Alex."
"Maybe, maybe not," I say, and scramble off the bed, picking up your shirt from the floor.
"Hey! Come back here, and give it back!"
"Nope." I confirm my response by pulling your tee-shirt over my head.
"Give it back," you warn dangerously, while hopping out of bed, and moving quickly towards me. The agility and power in your movements, contrasting your feminine grace.
You have no idea how the sight of you makes my breath catch, and my heart race.
"Gotta catch me first," I taunt, and beeline for the door, closing it behind me.
"What am I supposed to wear?" You yell, jiggling the door knob.
Clothes in the closet? But of course I'm not going to remind you. Funny how sometimes you have a one-tracked mind. "Nothing?" I yell back, before rushing into the kitchen. "You can eat breakfast naked! I'd love the view!"
514 Take Two
I frown into the door. "I'm not eating breakfast naked." I mutter. Standing in the door way, I look around and down at myself. Chasing you naked? Yeah, that's mature.
This is stupid. I can I don't have to be there are clothes everywhere. I just need to
I stick my head into the closet and I grab the first t-shirt that my hand touches. I pull it out slowly and start putting it on before I even really look at it. It's pink. My fucking luck, I mumble as I pull the shirt over my head.
I race back over to the door, and pull on it, wondering if you finally have let it go. It's opens easily, and I watch you sitting like a Cheshire cat on the couch.
"Why'd you take my shirt?" I whine.
"Why'd you put clothes on?" You ask gently.
"I'm not going to eat naked." I supply.
"You're no fun."
"That's just not hygienic."
"You and your hygiene." You wag your eyebrow at me, kidding me, daring me to come closer to your spot on the couch.
"I thought you were hungry," I say, letting the question linger there.
"I am." "So, breakfast is in the kitchen."
You look at me, staring. "I'm not quite ready for that."
"You want to tease me more first?"
"Something like that."
"Why do you delight in that?" I ask, plopping myself next to you on the couch. You immediately respond to my proximity, leaning into me, leaning into my body.
You take a deep breath and blow it on my neck, I kiss you on your neck and you respond with a deep moan.
So you want me after all, I smile to myself.
"I knew you couldn't just walk away," I whisper to you, taking your lips against mine, running my hands up and down your body while you let your body rest against mine
I sprint into the kitchen, fully expecting you to follow behind. When I reach the counter, you're still nowhere to be seen. What's taking you?
Are you actually getting clothes from the closet? Or are you back in bed, sulking? I hope it's not the latter. Maybe I should check on you. The smell of breakfast though, is entirely distracting. And it's looks good too, whatever it is.
French toast? Hm I nibble on a corner. It's pretty good. Yeah, I'm definitely keeping you. If nothing else, for your creative cooking skills alone.
Oh, but there's so much more about you worth keeping.
The way you make me feel, for instance. I should be focused on stuffing my belly right now. Instead, I eye the doorway, hoping for you, for the naked feral you to appear.
To do what, Cabot? Carry you back to bed and ravish you? All right, maybe that's a little absurd. Besides, that's so not the Olivia Benson I know.
So. What to do?
With my French toast in hand, I go back into the living room, and sink into the sofa. I can't believe I'm eating food on a paper towel and not a plate, and with my fingers, too. God. So glad mom's not here to witness this.
Hey, how come I'm the only one loosening up in this relationship, while you're still as uptight as ever? Some sort of trust issue on your part that we still need to resolve, maybe? I swallow the last bite and wipe my mouth. Maybe I should go see what you're up to.
No sooner than I made the decision, the bedroom door opens, and you wander out wearing one of my tops, looking cross. "Why'd you take my shirt?" You whine.
Because I like wearing your shirts? Because it's the second best thing to being held and surrounded by you. I'm not sure how you'd react to that response. You might think I'm too clingy and too attached to you. So I just continue with my teasing.
Finally, I manage to get you next to me. Readily, I lean into you, into your warmth, into your kiss, my excitement utterly tangible at this point
When I break our connection to catch my breath, you lower your lips to my throat. "You stole breakfast," you mutter, your teeth grazing my skin.
"I took what was mine." I correct you, in a hoarse whisper.
"What was yours, huh?" You chuckle, your fingers teasing the edge of my shirt, your shirt. "Was your name on the plate or something?"
Jesus. Who's the merciless tease here? "Please, Liv "
You tug lightly at the hair between my legs, then you move your hand chastely to rest on my stomach. "Please what, Alex?"
"Please, touch me?"
"I am touching you."
I let out a frustrated grunt, and push your hand downwards, to where I need you.
You chuckle, and trace the edges of my anatomy with the tip of your fingers, so lightly, so carefully. "Like this?"
I grasp for you, and arch into you, and I half purr half growl into your mouth, "Just take me."
516 Taking You
"Just take me," you growl, forcing my hands into you, near you, to be part of you. You let your body fall onto mine, trapping my hand between us, forcing it to rest against you. I make you slide to the side, freeing my hand and letting it pull back, further from where you want it.
"Take you where?" I ask you, taking happiness in your mounting frustration, the way you try to rub your body harder against my hand. I move closer to you, flicking you gently and then moving my hand back, not letting you have the contact you crave.
"You know where." You mutter, closing your eyes and biting your lip. Your hand grabs mine again and slides it back into your wetness. Your arousal, all of it, just for me.
"Tell me you're sorry," I chide you gently.
"For what?" You moan, your eyes opening slightly as you pull my hand down your body again.
"Stealing my shirt." I say, like it's obvious to both of us.
"No way," you gasp as I flick across your swelling center.
"Are you sure?" I say moving my hand slowly further away from where you want it.
"No, no I'm sorry," You say, taking my hand into yours and pressing it against your clit.
"You sure?" I taunt you.
"About what," You gulp for air.
"Being sorry about my shirt," I laugh as you lace your fingers into mine.
"Please Liv?" You beg me with a moan, moving my fingers and yours in a quickening tempo.
I let my fingers slide into you, giving into your desire. I feel them, sliding against you, rocking you into my body.
You let my fingers slide over you, into you, let me make you feel good. I kiss your neck, and watch you silently as I create a solid rocking rhythm.
"I love you," I whisper gently into your ear as I feel your body contract around my fingers.
Your back arches, and relaxes. You gasp for breath, and let yourself slide against me " I love you too," you whisper back as you regain your senses. I smile. I feel so happy, so content, so in love .
Tonight marks the second month of our living together, our cohabitation, like our fish. You're out somewhere, I wonder where, and what you're doing. I'm sure you remember what special occasion today is. You seem to be obsessed with them. The sixth chocolate souffle I made you, the twelfth load of laundry you did for me, they were all causes of celebration for you.
Milestones to mark our togetherness?
Sometimes I catch you staring at me, like you don't quite believe I am actually sitting across from you, under the same roof with you. What's up with that?
Are you afraid I'm going to kick you out? That I'm going to stop loving you?
I wonder what you're doing, how you're planning for our second month anniversary. At least that's what I'm assuming you're doing. Why else would you ask me to be home by six? Why else would you insist on us going separate ways this afternoon with that sly grin on your face?
So, what should I do for you? What can I do?
Buy you books? Clothes? Another leather jacket? You can never have too many of those.
Buy me more clothes, well, underwear for you?
Another piece of jewelry? Think you've max-ed out your cop safety limit, unless except
So, what should I do?
Well. Hm. Well. I wonder how you're going to react, if you're going to freak. But at least this time you can't pretend it doesn't exist. Maybe we can loosen you up a little. The bedroom would be a good place to start. Yes, that's it. That's what I should do.
My decision made, and confirmed, I hail a cab, and head for the apartment
"Liv? Are you home?" I call, just to make sure you're not here. "Hello?" Guess you're not back yet. Excellent.
I slide open the closet door, and reach into the back, pulling out the box from Trevor. I look inside for the second time, and riffle through the contents. God. Still can't believe he bought all this.
I dump out everything onto the bed, and begin sorting through them. Some of the items are just plain obscene. There are no other words for it. The others though, they have potential. Very interesting potential
Soon, the box is filled again with the things I want to keep, that you might enjoy if you let yourself. At least I know I would. I wrap it up with a sheet, and tie a ribbon around the knot, to make it festive.
By the time I'm through, it's already five thirty. You'll be home soon. Quickly, I freshen up, and change into something more comfortable, and sexy, and wait for your return
I stare at the ring, and then stick my hand in my pocket feeling for the wallet.
We've lived together two months today, two months of little celebrations, each moment we've shared, in our lives together.
Together. You and me.
Who'd have thought ?
I stare at the band. It's simple and elegant, much like you are. The shine of your personality comes not from your flashy exterior but the fire inside. Though your exterior isn't half bad either
The guy behind the counter stares at me, and taps his fingers against the glass. I've come to see this ring every day for a week. He stares at me, and asks me questions. "Can't get your boyfriend to buy it for you?"
"Something like that," I mutter, wanting him to just stop talking.
We've been together almost a year, give or take some time when we weren't together
I want you to have this.
Not because we've made it two months in the same little apartment.
Not because we've learned to trust each other.
Not because we've both changed so much
I want to do this because you're the love of my life and I can't imagine being away from you, now that I've found you.
I pull my wallet out of my pocket, pull it out and then shove it back in.
"I'll, I'll, take it." I say slowly.
The guy cocks his eyebrow at me. "Not going to wait for Mr Right."
"I I want to give it to someone special."
He doesn't ask anymore questions, and instead slips the delicate band into a box, slides it across the counter at me, and I'm free. I slide it into my pocket, my hand clamps around it. It takes all I can not to run down the street and back into your arms
519 STANDING STILL
I look at the clock. It's only a minute later than I last checked, and ten minutes away from six. Are you on your way back? This is worse than watching and waiting for the water to boil.
Maybe I should have bought you books, or even a puppy. Maybe this box was a bad idea. There isn't anything wrong with you being a little uptight, right?
But something tells me, this isn't about being vanilla. It goes deeper than that. How though? I'm not sure Maybe you're afraid any variation from status quo might hurt it?
The same reason why you watch me the way you do? And celebrate every milestones?
I am certain it is something I should find out.
Or maybe it's just me being overly analytical.
Why am I so nervous?
I check the clock again. Did time somehow come to a standstill when I wasn't looking?
Finally, I hear your key slide into the lock.
"Hey, beautiful." You smile, when I meet you at the door. "You look lovely."
"Thank you." I blush, and lean forward to kiss you. "Happy two month anniversary!"
"Really?" You say, with barely contained excitement. "I knew I forgot something."
Yeah right. "Come on, Benson. You're such a bad liar."
"I think you know me a little too well." You chuckle, and reach into your pocket. "Happy two month anniversary," you say, handing me a small jewelry box.
A ring box, to be accurate. I can tell by the size and shape.
Suddenly, my heart is pounding in my ears. Is this like a token of your affection? Or are you going to ask me to spend the rest of my life with you? Which? I know what my answer would be, if you did ask, even though I'm not sure I'll be ready, if I'll ever be ready.
And if it's just a token of your affection, would my perceived relief overcome my certain disappointment? I'm almost afraid to open the box.
Meanwhile, you're staring at me expectantly.
Taking a deep breath, and smiling, I flip the lid back. "It's gorgeous." I gasp, marveling at the simple white gold band decorated with diamonds, so elegant in its simplicity. It must have cost you a small fortune; how long have you been planning this? "I, I don't know what to say "
520 Promises Promises
"I I don't know what to say," you mumble slowly.
"I haven't said anything yet," I say with a half smile.
"What do you mean?" You ask, panic running across your face.
"Alex," I say, looking into your eyes, holding your hands gently in mine. "I want to be with you."
"You are with me, silly," You say, trying to pull your hands away.
"I know, I know," I chide quickly.
"That's not what you meant."
"No, it's not." I take a deep breath.
I can feel my heart beating 100 miles an hour, in my throat, in my ears, my cheeks flushing because of the pounding blood.
"So," You say slowly, bringing me back into reality.
"So, I love you. And "
"I love you too," you interrupt nervously.
"Alex." I say quickly.
"What?" You ask me with your eyes.
"Listen." I say slowly.
You walk across the room and sit on the couch, patting the place next to you. You're fingering the box in your hand nervously.
"Alex, I want to spend my life, the rest of my life with you."
"So this is like ?"
"I thought you didn't make those." You respond quickly.
"I don't, I mean, I do, but Alex, love me."
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