;)

Elliot knocked on the door of Olivia's apartment. She had left for work around three thirty. It was almost six now. He had been staring at his phone the entire time in between, waiting to see her name on the screen. They'd been having such a great time. He had pictured them going out to dinner or back to his place to spend the rest of the evening. Hopefully things would have progressed further until they finally reached that step that eluded them. Three weeks apart had put a lot of things into perspective for him.

He'd been in a loveless relationship too long with Andrea. He should have ended it long before he did but he'd been too lazy. Too lazy to search for someone better. But the day he met Olivia he knew that he had waited long enough. Of course he didn't know if he'd ever see Olivia again at that time but he knew he'd go out of his way to seek her out.

The minute he walked away from their first date he knew she was the one for him. She was it. There was no more searching to be done. His life had been complete the minute he stopped the football from slamming into her six months ago. People would probably call him crazy but he could feel it in his bones.

He wanted to tell her he loved her so badly but he didn't want to freak her out if she wasn't there yet. But if his instincts were right, she loved him, too. He had seen it in her eyes earlier. He had a feeling it was just going to be who beat the other to it first.

He could hear the sound of locks turning and the chain being removed. Seconds later, he was face to face with his girlfriend. She smiled upon seeing him but he could see that it didn't light up her face like it normally did.

"Hey," he greeted with a kiss. "I thought you were gonna call."

She pulled him inside and shut the door behind them. "I'm sorry. I didn't think I'd be the best company right now. How'd you know I was here?"

"I called work," he explained. "Your partner picked up and told me you had gone home a little after five."

She smiled involuntarily. "You could be a detective."

"I think I'll stick to my day job," he grinned. He took her hand into his, tugging to get her to look at him. She did but somewhat hesitantly he noticed. Her eyes didn't look like they normally did. In fact…she looked like she was about to cry.

"Have you been crying?" Elliot asked softly, his voice conveying his concern. He'd never seen her cry before. Well, except for the few tears on their first date when she told him about her mother.

"No, I'm fine," she tried to brush off. She tried to discreetly wipe at her eyes with her other hand but he grabbed it before she could.

"Liv, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Elliot." She ripped her hands out of his and stomped off toward the couch. He stared after her, frozen in confusion. He didn't know whether to push the issue or let her have the space she obviously wanted.

'Eh, screw it.'

As if he was afraid of startling her for fear that would dart off like an antelope, he slowly lowered himself next to her on the couch. He resisted the urge to touch her just yet. He wanted to fully gauge her mood first.

"Olivia, tell me what's wrong," he murmured.

His words seemed to break her like a dam after a typhoon. Her face crumpled up, her eyes trying desperately not to release her tears. Her hands covered her face as her body rocked slowly back and forth. He palm skimmed up the length of her back, trying to help her draw strength from him. Demons were plaguing her and he wanted nothing more than to help but the words eluded him. He knew her struggles had to be with her job but it was killing him he couldn't help her with her pain.

Slowly, he moved her body toward his, settling her into his side. His arms wrapped around her as her sobs started. He rocked them back and forth, trying to ease her pain with his comfort. It killed him to see her like this. As a rule, he didn't like seeing females cry. It was uncomfortable and awkward and he never knew exactly what to do. But to see Olivia like this…. For someone as strong as her, it took a lot to reduce her to this.

"Tell me what's wrong, baby," he whispered close to her ear.

Her sobs remained prevalent and for a while he thought he was never going to draw the issue out of her. But finally, in a soft hitched voice, she began to confess.

"I don't know if I can do this."

He pulled back slightly in confusion. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I don't know if I can do this job." She shook her head but she had yet to look at him. "I didn't know it was going to be this hard. I didn't know it would…it would break my heart this much."

He held her tighter, his heart breaking for her all over again. He couldn't even begin to imagine what she felt. To finally have the job she had dreamed about for years only to start realizing that maybe she wasn't cut out for it after all. That it was too heart wrenching to get through the day without feeling the urge to breakdown.

But he didn't want her to give up on her dream. Back when he first started to play football, he sucked so bad he never saw himself making the team but look where he was now. He knew with time she could be the best there ever was.

"Hey, listen to me," he encouraged. He pulled back to look at her, wanting to see her eyes as he spoke to her. She tried to avoid eye contact, probably to keep him from seeing her crying, but he wouldn't be deterred. He held her chin gently between his thumb and index finger, his other hand rubbing the soft skin of her neck. "Nothing's easy when someone first tries it. This job is like a new job entirely. You're not dealing with the same drug dealers and domestic disturbance calls every day. You don't see the same idiot kids pulling the same stupid stunts every week. You meet a new special victim every day and they each have a devastating story that never should have happened in the first place. I'm not saying this job is gonna be easy; it shouldn't be easy. No one should have to see what you see every day. But it'll get easier. It may take a while but it will. You just need to build up experience first. You are so much braver than me, Liv. I don't know that I could ever do your job. But they need you to do this job. The victims need you on their side. I have no doubt that you can relate to them on some level. I bet you make them feel safe, like they have a friend when everyone else has turned their back on 'em."

She stared back at him like she doubted his words but she surprised him by wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly to her. He grinned in her hair, knowing his words had made the impact he was looking for.

"You always know just what to say to me," she murmured next to his ear, her lips barely touching the lobe.

"That's my job," he shrugged.

She pulled herself back from him. He was hesitant to let her go, though, so he kept his arms around her waist. She wiped her eyes with her hands, sniffling and looking adorable as she composed herself. He knew without a doubt just how much she hated looking vulnerable to people. She hadn't come right out and said that but it was obvious from the way she carried herself and everything else he knew about her. He was just glad that he could see this side of her, as much as she hated to show it.

He brushed some hair back from her forehead. "Just give the job six months, a year," he asked of her. "If you still think you can't handle it then go back to your old unit or transfer to another. I don't want you to give up now. I don't want you to regret it for the rest of your life."

She nodded, her eyes level with his. "I will. I'll give it… six months from right now."

He smiled, his pleasure clearly written on his face. She smiled at him. Her eyes were red and slightly puffy from crying but to him she looked gorgeous. She chuckled at him before colliding back into his arms, her face pressed against his shirt.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you but I'm really glad I have you," she said, her voice somewhat in awe. "Here I was feeling so sorry for myself and ready to just quit but you made everything better with just a few words."

"It's just one of my many talents that have yet to be displayed."

She glanced up at him with a glint in her eye. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, that's so." Her personality was returning, much to his relief. "Now, I don't know about you but I'm hungry. You wanna go get something to eat?"

"No, I've had enough takeout in the last few weeks to last me the rest of my life."

"How 'bout we make dinner?"

"I don't have any food," she grinned sheepishly.

"So we'll go get some and then make dinner together," he suggested.

E

O

"I don't think I've ever enjoyed grocery shopping before," Olivia mused over her glass of wine. She watched as Elliot flipped the steaks, content to sit back and let him take over this part. He had cooked for her on several occasions and her for him on a few but they had never made a meal together. It was nice and very domestic of them.

He leaned over to where she was leaning against the counter and kissed her lips. He smiled infectiously at her, making a grin appear on her face at the sight of his. "That's because you've never been shopping with me before."

"Clearly I've been missing out on one of the great wonders of the world," she teased with that grin of hers.

He winked at her and turned back to watching the food. "So what's been going on in the last couple of weeks I've been out of town?"

"Elliot," she sighed, sensing an alternative reason behind his question. "I told you I don't want to talk about the case."

"Hey, hey," he stopped her quickly, one hand held up in defense. "I was just asking about your life. I just want you to talk to me."

She just stared at him.

"You know what I've been doing for the last few weeks and I can only talk about that for so long so that only leaves you talking about your life."

She stared at him some more. She knew she was still sensitive from earlier, her tears and frustration still fresh in her mind, but she wasn't used to someone calling her on her bullshit.

"My partner keeps teasing me about you," she spoke softly, taking a sip of wine. "Somehow he always seems to catch me when I'm on the phone with you. He almost started in on twenty questions the other day."

He grinned. "Does he know who I am or is he just bustin' your chops?"

"All he knows is your name is Elliot. He's just giving me a hard time like partners do. Frank used to do it to me all the time but he was more of an annoying older brother. Murphy I don't know about yet."

"Do you ever tell people about work about me?" he wondered, somewhat curious as to why he'd never met anyone she worked with.

She shrugged. "It hasn't really come up yet. And I'm never really sure if you want me to tell them about who you are. It's just… I'm new there and New York football fans are crazy. I'm okay with Murphy knowing because I feel like he won't take it overboard but I don't know about everyone else."

"So you're not ashamed of me?" he half teased. She laughed and bumped her hip into his.

"No, not at all. I," love you her mind finished. Her voice quickly changed direction. "You're too wonderful to be ashamed of. You have nothing to worry about."

"Good." He was satisfied with her answer. He could understand where she was coming from. She wasn't deliberately telling people but she wasn't necessarily hiding it. It was kind of a relief to be dating someone who wasn't absorbed in his fame, telling everyone who would give her the time of day. "So what else happened? How's Christina doing?"

He transferred the steaks to two separate plates. Olivia moved in and completed the plates with the rest of their meals.

"Better, her ankle is pretty much fully healed. She's already itching to hit up the bars and clubs again. Mmm, and she said she wants to go with me to whichever home game I can make it to."

"We have a game in two days," he reminded. "How 'bout that one?"

She nodded. "I'll call her and tell her. And I really don't want any fancy treatment."

"You mean I can't put you up in the team's box where the cameras zoom in on you for the whole world to see?" he acted.

"No," she answered emphatically but with a smile. She stole a kiss as she scooted past him. "Just normal seats wherever."

"Don't worry; I have the perfect seats for you." Each player was allotted two tickets per game for their family. Elliot had already expressed, on numerous occasions, how badly he wanted her at some of the home games. She had promised she would attend whenever she could but that he needed to be aware that her job was always unpredictable. And she couldn't exactly kiss up to the captain and request nearly every Sunday off when she just started the job a couple of months ago.

They settled in at her kitchen table. Olivia had found candles earlier to light to give them a more romantic ambiance. He sipped from his wine glass while he watched her dig into her meal. Breakfast had been a muffin from Starbucks on the way to the studio earlier. While he'd had a sandwich since then, he doubted she had eaten at all. He was coming to find that not eating was becoming a trend when she was focused. He had called her once during one of her first cases. Her words had been sluggish and, after a bit of cajoling, she had finally admitted that she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten.

"I missed this," he murmured, smiling across at her. She grinned as she cut a piece out of her steak. "I missed home cook meals…"

"You say that as if I cook for you all the time," she interrupted with a sarcastic smirk. He returned it as he dug into his own steak.

"I missed listening to you interrupt me all the time." She stuck her tongue out at him. "I missed you smiling at me and just hearing you talk."

"El, we talked almost every day you were away," she reminded him with a laugh.

"I know but it's not the same as talking to you in person. In person, I can gage your mood more and look into your eyes."

She stared at him, her eyes amused by what he was telling her. On the outside, Elliot looked like any other male – like he wanted to be treated as a tough, macho male. But away from prying eyes, he was the sweetest, gentlest man she had ever met. They had only barely raised their voices at each once but Olivia was far from naïve thinking full blown yelling would never happen. He was being patient with her. Most men would have turned the other way by now. He was always surprising her and she only hoped that she was doing the same for him.

"You sound like such a girl right now," she teased. She was relieved when he rolled his eyes at her. She had had a boyfriend in college who thought he was the ultimate alpha male. He had more hair products than she had ever owned in her life. One day when she chose to comment on it, he had gotten angry and that had been the end to their relationship. Though it wasn't exactly a relationship she thought was going to last more than three months, it had always stayed in the back of her mind. It was just her sense of humor. She needed someone who could handle that and match it barb for barb.

"Maybe I do but it's true," he admitted. "I'm a sucker for pretty eyes."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You know you're already dating me. There's no need to woo me anymore."

He reached across and grabbed her hand. "Hey, if I don't continue to woo you, then you might lose interest in me. Some other guy might come along and snatch you up."

She squeezed his hand. He always scared the crap out of her when he said things like that.

"There's no need to worry about that just yet," she whispered, trying to keep things light but feeling like her world was soaring and it wasn't coming down any time soon.

"Just yet?" he repeated with raised brows. His eyes sparkled, though, telling her he knew she was just teasing. "There something I gotta worry about?"

"No," she assured. "Just keeping you on your toes."

He nodded his acknowledgement, a sound coming from the back of his throat as he smirked at her.

They made small talk through the rest of dinner. It was a relief that it came so easy. They switched from topic to topic. One minute they were talking about her job then his, and then they were talking about the latest movies out. Somehow they stumbled on the subject of the school system before somehow segueing to the anchors on the nightly news. No topic was ever untouched. They didn't dive too deep most times but just the thought that anything was on the table was comforting.

She'd had boyfriend once where their relationship was nothing but physical. It wasn't the worst but it wasn't something she was seeking out now. She was thirty years old. She wanted to find her true love and be calm and content for the rest of her days.

Elliot's thoughts ran along the same lines. It was a relief to be dating someone so articulate and able to form an original thought. He had had a lot of temptation thrown in his face, a few one night stands he regretted now. At the time, it had been amazing and exhilarating. Now he looked back on his younger years with a bit of shame but he was only human. It wasn't as though he was the only man to go through a wild period. And being a pro football player hadn't helped. But he was older now and he could see the error of his ways. He was tired of finding the company of women that only wanted to be with someone to be famous. At thirty three he was finally looking to settle down but he knew all about the downfalls of NFL relationships.

Most of the relationships failed for a variety of reasons. There was cheating on the road; numerous women made themselves available and some men always fell victim to it. There were men in relationships for the wrong reason. Some women just wanted the fame and if she was attractive enough, most of the guys didn't mind giving her the luxury for a while. Collapsing marriages happened all the time when the player retired. A lifestyle can't be lived anymore or the woman gets so wrapped up in her husband's job she doesn't know how to be anything other than Mrs. NFL.

Elliot didn't want that to happen to him.

He knew Olivia had her head on her shoulders. He was fairly positive she could care less about how much money he made. After all, she was a cop. If she was after money he was pretty sure she would have chosen another profession. She was already in the public eye being a detective for the New York City police department so she was somewhat used to the media being in her face. But he knew she detested it, tried hard not to be in the background when the news decided to pay attention to the latest special victim.

Those qualities were both major pluses.

She could handle his job, so far at least, and he was fairly confident he could handle hers. Yes sir, it was looking like a match made in heaven.

"You wanna watch a movie?" she asked after they finished the dishes. He nodded and she left to make a selection.

He settled on the couch next to her, stretching his arm along the back of the couch. He smirked as 'Be my Baby' started to play. One of the first things he had learned about her was how much she loved the movie Dirty Dancing. She cuddled into him, curling her feet up on the couch and settling in to relax for a few hours.

E

O

"I'm gonna get some water," he said about an hour into the movie. "You want anything?"

"Some water sounds good."

She watched as he made his way to the kitchen. She loved watching his smiling face walk towards her but she loved to watch him walk away too. She chuckled to herself. The man just got more and more beautiful every day.

Every day it got harder and harder to keep her feelings to herself. Often she found herself wanting to call him and blurt out 'I love you' but that was really the sort of thing done in person for the first time. She had never felt this way before.

There wasn't a doubt in her mind that she loved him, was in love with him.

But now she just had to scrounge up enough courage to tell him how she felt.

There was always the fear that he wouldn't feel the same way or he wouldn't say it back. But the man was still hanging around after four months and they hadn't even had sex yet. He had to feel the same way.

He handed her a glass of water. She thanked him before taking a sip. He resumed his seat beside her, sipping at his own glass of water. His eyes were on the movie playing in front of them but her eyes remained on his face.

"I love you."

It felt like they were in a movie and someone watching the scene before them pressed paused. Elliot's glass of water remained poised at his lips, ready to take a drink but no water was going down. Her breathing had slowed down, ready to hear whatever he had to say. If he had anything to say.

He cleared his throat. "Is that what they're saying instead of 'thank you' these days?" he tried to joke. She could see his Adam's apple bob while he slowly placed his water on the coffee table. He looked startled, like the last thing he was expecting was to hear her say 'I love you.' Hell, it was the last thing she expected to say.

Her heart constricted a little bit but she didn't let it deter her.

"I don't care if you don't say it back right now but I just had to let you know," she admitted. Although she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't want to hear him repeat it at some point soon. Her water joined his on the table. She angled her body towards his, her hand seeking his out. She breathed deeply, trying to figure out how to voice what was in her heart. "I would have quit tomorrow if not for you. You know exactly what I need to hear. I love how much fun we have together. I love who I am with you. I wish we would've met sooner so we could have had this all along."

He smiled at her and cupped her chin in his free hand. "But we have this now and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world," he admitted in a soft voice.

"Not even another super bowl win?" she teased with a coy grin.

"Well…maybe," he pretended to think about it. His thumb caressed her face, his eyes like pools of tranquility. He slowly leaned forward until his lips pressed against hers. "But the trophy isn't as warm to sleep next to."

She laughed, her chin dropping to her chest. His hand escaped from her grasp only to find its way to her face.

"And, in case you're wondering," he whispered, "I love you, too."

A smile blossomed onto her face. Her cheekbones hurt from how wide it was.

"That's good to know," she forced in a whisper.

She could feel her eyes tearing up but she forced them away. His lips touched hers again, this time nipping at her lower lip. He kept it light, not putting much pressure with it. Her arms stretched across his shoulders. She pressed her forehead against his, reveling in the feel of him in her arms.

She felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She'd never told someone she loved them. Well, never told someone and actually really meant it.

He started to pull back, slowly and hesitantly, but she followed him.

"You don't want to finish watching the movie?" he wondered, pointing back at the TV. She just shook her head. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, pondering. She stared at him for a long moment, trying to get all her thoughts in a row.

Like in slow motion, Olivia stood and pulled Elliot up with her. He looked confused when she turned the TV off. His face retained that look when she started walking, his hands in hers. Recognition ignited when she led him the short way to her bedroom.

He thought about asking her if she was serious, but he didn't want to ruin the moment. Ever since they'd been interrupted last month by her phone ringing, he'd been dying for this moment. He'd thought of ways to recreate that moment. They'd had at least half a dozen since it first happened but for various reasons they had never gone all the way. Now that it looked like it might actually happen, he didn't want to say anything that might ruin the moment.

It didn't seem like this was actually happening. Maybe she just wanted to go to bed. He glanced down at his watch. Nine fifty-four. She probably hadn't had much sleep in the last few days but he doubted she was ready for bed just yet. She was a bit of an insomniac as he'd come to discover. Sometimes, when they didn't sleep over together, he would get texts from her in the middle of the night, usually around one or one thirty. It would usually be about something random, something that just popped into her head and she just had to share for no real reason. Usually by the time she sent him the text there was no real hope of her getting sleep that night.

He had noticed that when she slept over, or vice versa, she was usually knocked out in less than a half hour from the time they crawled into bed. He felt manly pride at that, at the fact that his presence soothed her into sleep.

She turned on the bedside lamp but it didn't fully light the room. It gave out just enough light to see by. She turned around to face him, a smile on her face. Her hands found their way to his chest, flattening her palms against his abdomen. She could feel his stomach moving in short bursts.

"I think," she spoke slowly, "that this is finally the right moment for us. I'm tired of interruptions, of work, of everything stopping what I'm feeling."

His hands moved until they found hers. Their fingers laced together. Their bodies pressed close together, their stomachs touching.

"So am I," he whispered. He leaned his head down until he found her lips. He applied ample pressure to this kiss, his emotions spilling out before he could stop them. He didn't want to stop them.

He wanted her to know how much he loved her.

His fingers untangled from hers slowly and made their way along her sides. They danced along her shirt, gradually adding more pressure as they traveled lower until reaching her waistline. His fingers tangled in the fabric. His nails skimmed her soft skin, drawing chills from her body. Her arms stretched along his shoulders again, squeezing, more than content to let him explore. This part wasn't new to them but it didn't make the process any less nerve wracking.

She walked backwards until she felt her bed against the back of her knees. She toppled backward, taking him with him. She heard his laughter in her ear and couldn't help but chuckle along with her.

"Why do I feel like you're telling me to hurry up?" he teased. She crawled backward on the bed until her head was resting against her pillows. She smiled down at him as he followed the path of her body.

"Well, it has been four months of foreplay," she reminded. He placed kisses along her abdomen where her shirt had risen up but the feel of her hands pulling his face up changed his direction. He settled into the crevice her legs made, her warmth seeping through as one leg winded together with one of his. His mouth found hers, willingly handing over any control he may have had. Their tongues mingled together, dueling for control but never gaining it for long enough.

Her hands danced down until they were at the hem of his T-shirt. One of her favorite parts was undressing him. She loved removing the fabric and running her fingers along the muscles of his body, memorizing the ridges and dips as she went along. She pulled the thin fabric up and off before flinging it to the floor. Her fingers danced along his chest, refreshing her memory before moving on to his stomach.

She loved the feel of him beneath her fingertips. It was amazing she had been able to wait this long before taking this step. With the exception of losing her virginity, it was by far the longest she had waited for any man. There was something different about Elliot. Something that made her take her time, be patient because she knew he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. This was the most sure she'd ever felt, when she was with him.

She was disappointed when Elliot's lips left hers but he quickly attached them to the side of her neck. He worked his way around her jaw, making sure no patch of skin went untouched. Her fingernails scraped and clawed lightly down his sides, something she had come to find he loved. She paused a moment before dragging her hands around to the buckle on his belt. She deftly undid the buckle and button before making short work of the zipper. She was pushing his shorts down when he finally seemed aware of what was happening.

He looked down at her with a silly grin. "How come I always seem to lose my clothes first?"

"Maybe you're no good at multitasking," she teased.

"Oh, I can multitask," he assured. "I just like taking my time. Sometimes."

She kissed him, trying to thoroughly distract him while she finished removing his shorts. He was easily distracted she had come to find, which would probably be very useful in the future.

"Maybe we can save taking our time for next time," she suggested seductively.

He shook his head. "I've been waiting too long for this to not make this perfect."

He kicked his shorts to the floor before focusing on making her equally as bare. He made quick work of her shirt, not taking the time to be overly romantic about it. She had shown her cards and he didn't want to disappoint. He didn't want to rush through this, ending months of desire, but he didn't want to move too slow like a virgin on prom night.

She shed her bra, not wanting to waste any time. His lips scaled down her neck before pausing a moment on her clavicle. She moaned when his tongue found a spot she liked. Her legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him pressed close to her lest he get too far away. He moved further down her body. He pressed light kisses to her skin around her chest, ignoring her breasts until finally she guided him towards them. He withheld a chuckle before settling his mouth over an erect nipple. She groaned from the sensation, pleasure flooding throughout her entire body. One hand closed over her other breast, making sure it didn't go without attention, while the other ventured down to seek out her heat. Her hips arched up into him, silently begging him to keep doing that.

Her hands moved to the button on her jeans, quickly undoing them and the zipper before hastily pushing them off her hips. He would have laughed at her eagerness if he could catch his breath long enough to do so. He switched his mouth to her other nipple, making sure to pay the same attention there. Her fingernails scratched against his scalp, encouraging him even more. He rolled his tongue back and forth across her nipple. Her thighs squeezed tight against him while her fingers pulled gently at his hair. Her hips arched up into him, grinding against his crotch. He suppressed a groan as he felt his erection grow even harder.

Reluctantly he released her breasts, placing final kisses to the sensitive underside before lovingly making his way further down her body. He traced patterns on her stomach with his tongue. His fingers tickled against her sides, his light touch making her giggle.

"I hate when you do that," she half giggled half groaned. He smiled up at her, only stopping his exploration for a second.

"No, you don't."

She raised a brow. "What makes you say that?"

"Because every time I do it you laugh and squirm, but you pull at my hair or dig your fingers into my arm. Those are things you only do when I'm on the right track to something you like," he informed her smartly. She twisted his hair playfully but couldn't find anything to say. She hated when he was right.

"Yeah well," she searched for something to say. She gave his head a playful push downward, "why don't you focus your attention elsewhere now?"

"I'm gettin' there, woman," he grinned. "Have a little faith."

His fingers dipped to her center again, applying pressure on the outside of her lacy red underwear. Her hips shot up as a loud moan escaped her mouth. Her eyes slipped shut as he began dragging the bikini underwear off her hips and down her legs. Goosebumps covered her body at the anticipation.

"Is this what you want?" he whispered devilishly. She nodded rapidly, unable to form words. Her eyes were hooded with her desire. She watched in anticipation while he settled his body between her legs. She could feel her breathing stop and speed up at the same time, not sure which direction to take.

His fingers traced patterns against her stomach, her thighs. She groaned when he put his lips to her hip.

"Elliot," she drew out. Her fingers tangled with the sheets and her legs squirmed against his body.

"Patience," he reminded. His hands skimmed across her legs firmly, his lips pressing kisses everywhere but where she wanted them.

"Four months, El," she reminded. "Four months of wondering, waiting, hoping for…"

"This?" he wondered. His tongue ventured south, lapping at her clitoris a few times before he glanced up at her. Her body was tense on the bed, her eyes shut and her chest rising and falling rapidly. Grinning, he knew he wouldn't get an answer out of her. He continued his ministrations, sucking and licking in all the right places. If men across the country were surveyed about what they liked least about sex, this would probably be at the top of the list. But not for Elliot. It was one of his favorite parts. There was nothing like a woman ready and wanting, nothing like her arousal to make him even more turned on. Nothing like having her at his mercy, writhing in pleasure beneath him as he gave her what she wanted.

He brought his fingers into play, running one along her folds. He could hear her moaning softly, her breathy pants encouraging him to do more to bring her closer to the edge. He inserted one finger then two, slowly pumping as his tongue continued to work against her. Her fingers knotted in his hair, pulling to the point that it almost hurt. It only turned him on more.

He could tell she was getting close. Her moans were growing practically silent but her breathing was coming faster. He worked faster, increasing the friction. Her inner walls were clenching around his fingers. She had to be close; he was sure he'd be missing patches of hair when he looked in a mirror later.

Her hips shot up off the bed and her legs clenched around his shoulders but he pulled her back down. Her moan was long and drawn out. Her legs felt like jelly beneath his hands. He helped her ride it out, keeping up his rhythm until he felt the spasms cease. Her body went slack against the mattress, her arms spread out across the pillows, eyes shut. He crawled up her body, kissing his way up to her lips.

"You," he dropped a kiss to her belly button, "are a very," a kiss to her breast, "very," a kiss to her other breast, "gorgeous woman, Olivia Benson."

His mouth found hers, taking claim over it. His lips were slick with her secretions but it didn't deter either one of them. She opened her mouth deep to him. She pressed his body tightly to hers, her arms wrapping securely around his shoulders. Her legs were still a little weak but she wrapped them firmly high around his waist.

"I want these off," she murmured into his mouth, toeing his briefs. She glanced downward. By now, they looked very uncomfortable. She could see his erection bulging in the front. One of her hands skated down his front until she palmed him, running her hand around the length of him through the fabric.

He obliged to her wishes, pulling away long enough to wiggle out of them with her help. Her hand found him again, running her palm along the bare flesh for the first time. He grunted and jerked his hips into her hand. She pulled, hard a few times before gently stroking him. He thrust into her hand a few times, any control he had unable to stop him.

His eyes fluttered shut from the feel. "Liv, keep that up long and this is never gonna happen," he threatened somewhat seriously. He was already on edge from watching her but now she was threatening to end their fun early.

Wordlessly but with a sparkle in her eye she guided him to her entrance. Their eyes stared at one another while he entered her for the first time. Their eyes never faltered for the first few thrusts. Her soft moans filled his head as he hit just the right spot.

It was surreal, like he was watching from above at his fantasy come alive. The sight of her beneath him was beautiful. Her hair was fanned out on her light blue pillow case. His lips found that sensitive spot on her neck again, eliciting a long, low moan from her.

Elliot reached down to hook one of her legs around his waist, wanting his thrust to go even deeper. He could feel her warmth surrounding him with every move, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Her other leg hooked around his waist again, clenching her muscles around him.

She opened her eyes, unaware she had even closed them, when she felt his lips at her breast. She put a hand on the back of his head to hold him there, thoroughly enjoying the attention he was paying her. His rhythm increased slightly, his thrusts coming faster and a little more erratic. He could feel his orgasm building and he knew this wasn't going to last as long as he wanted it to. He could only hope she wasn't far behind.

He brought his lips back to hers, kissing her deeply, tongue dueling with hers. He could feel her inner walls clenching around him. His pace faltered a little and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to come too early.

Her hips thrust up to meet his while she begged him to do that again. He obliged by her wishes, gratefully hitting whatever spot hit good for her.

"Liv, this probably won't last as long as we want it to," he warned when her walls clenched around him again.

"It's okay," she promised breathlessly. Normally this part did not come easy for her, no pun intended. It took time for her to hit the right rhythm, the right angle. Most men never even found it. It was usually up to her later to finish the job the man was nowhere near completing. That she'd even had one orgasm already and was rapidly approaching her second was something to put down in her record books.

His lips latched around a nipple while his hand made its way down her body until he reached the bundle of nerves. She arched upward, quietly begging him to keep doing what he was doing. His thrusts hit deeper and deeper, his breathing staggering before he saw stars before his eyes.

E

O

"What in the hell made you get this?" Olivia wondered, pointing at the tattoo on his left hip. She settled the sheet around her, curling her arm around her pillow.

He chuckled, glancing down at the butterfly tattoo that resided there.

"As you can probably guess, alcohol was involved," he laughed. She laughed softly alongside him. He pulled the sheet up around his waist. This right here was one of his top fantasies: being in bed with Olivia Benson. Naked.

"So you were in college since that's usually when bad decisions and alcohol are frequently mixed," she guessed. He nodded.

"Yeah, long story short a lot of pranks were played between me and my buddies on the football team. See, all the athletes were in one dorm. Something about making sure we stayed focus on keeping each other focused on school work. Anyway, I think it all started when my buddy Brad put shaving cream all over one of the guy's rooms. There was the obvious retaliation – packing peanuts in a couple guys' rooms and one of the bathrooms, stapling cups to the ceiling. You know, the usual."

She eyed him with a barely concealed smirk. "You have never been more attractive," she teased with a straight face.

"Hey, I wasn't even the one that started it but I was the only one that got a permanent reminder of those days," he defended. "I don't even remember all that happened that day but I remember I was definitely drunk. The next morning I woke up with a tattoo on my hip."

"Who would do something like that? Especially when you were drunk."

He shrugged. "Some guy down the hall had a kit because he wanted to be a tattoo artist. And he is now, actually. He has a shop in Noho now. He did the cross on my arm after we graduated."

She curled up into him, his arms wrapping around her frame and keeping her warm. She yawned, the past few days, maybe even weeks, finally catching up to her. She was satiated and warm and peaceful.

"You keep surprising me, Elliot Stabler. Not many men would walk around with a butterfly on their hip."

"At the time I was pissed," he admitted, his chin resting on the top of her head. "But when I see it now it just reminds me of all the good times I had back then."

Her leg slipped in between his, assuming the comfortable position she always sought when they slept together. She felt his lips on her forehead, a pleasant hum coming from the back of her throat at the feel. She felt like her world had slowed down, the world she had been used to – the waiting, missed opportunities, frustration – finally drifting away as the earth settled into its normal rotation. She could feel his chest rising and falling steadily as he settled in for the night. Her fingers smoothed across the sensitive skin on his side, tracing tiny patterns on his ribs.

"Still," she murmured after some time had passed. "Seems like you need some better tattoos to make up for that one."

"I'll get a new one when you get one," he challenged. She wisely chose not to respond.

His body shifted, a long arm reaching down to grab the comforter at their feet. He draped it around them, knowing she'd get cold soon enough. She murmured her thanks as she resumed her position. Her lips were pressed against his neck, warm puffs of breath sending chills down his spine.

He wanted to stay in this moment for the rest of his life. He knew without a doubt that if he died tomorrow he could call himself the happiest man alive.

"Hey Liv?" he whispered.

"Hmm?" She was on the verge of sleep so he spoke fast.

"I love you."

He felt her lips curl against his neck.

"I love you, too."