Copyright 2007 Penn O'Hara
Usual disclaimers apply.
Timeline: After "Maltese Cross", Season Six.
This idea germinated from a review of "Logan With a Twist" by g-gal. I love it when readers give me the 'little idea', so I thank g-gal for this one. All the drink names used below can actually be found in the book listed in the Bibliography below.
In my LOCI universe, after "Wheelin' Car". Logan and Barek's affair was 'outed' in 'Extracurricular Pursuits', after which Barek transferred to the Chief of D's (Bradshaw) office and the two detectives shacked up together in Carolyn's apartment.
Bibliography: Beaumont, Alex: 101 Cocktails, Techniques, Recipes and Variations, Polly Book Publishing, Balmain, NSW, 1988.
"Whatcha doin', babe?"
Carolyn gave a start, not hearing Mike come into the kitchen while her head had been buried inside the bottom cupboard. Rocking back onto her heels, she blew the hair out of her eyes and pulled out the bottle for which she had been reaching.
"Cleaning out my liquor cabinet. Want to help?"
The grin she gave him died on her face as she eyed off Mike standing barefoot, in blue jeans hung low on his hips and a cream shirt still unbuttoned. His hair was dark and wet from his morning shower, but he hadn't shaved. He didn't bother on his days off and Carolyn liked it that way. Mike Logan, clean-shaven in dark suit and tie was scrumptious, but newly-washed and casually scruffy, he was deliciously dangerous.
Her eyes came back to his face, seeing the cocky grin she loved.
"Did you just undress me with your eyes?" he asked.
Carolyn dabbed at the sweat on her upper lip with the back of her hand. "I guess I did. Going to arrest me for it?"
"Later," he promised. Cocking his head to the side, his brows knitted. "This is our first day off together for…how long? And you wanna clean? You didn't even sleep in with me."
She waved her hands in the air. "Don't blame me for the clash in rosters. For all his gruff exterior, Bradshaw is flexible. It's you and your cases that keep you away from me." She stuck out her bottom lip in a mock pout. "As for sleeping in? I can't. Not on days off. Too much a waste of precious waking time."
Bending down, Mike took the bottle from her hand, placed it on the table beside them and pulled her to her feet. "So's cleaning."
Lifting her to her toes, he bent down to press his face into her neck and Carolyn shivered at the exquisite rasp of his beard against her skin. She turned her mouth to the inevitable kiss and collapsed against his body with a moan. Even after living with Mike for over a month, the newness of making love with him hadn't yet worn off. Already heated from the exertion of bending in and out of the liquor cupboard, Carolyn's body temperature rose another notch.
Lowering her heels to the ground, she mistily looked up at him and blew out a shaky breath. "Now that reminds me of something I found in my cocktail recipe book."
"I don't follow," he said, his mouth disappointed that she'd pulled away and Carolyn was too tempted to go back for more. Pulling out of his arms, she turned round and grabbed a small book from the table.
"I figured now that I don't have to drink alone, I could make up some cocktails instead of our wine and beer all the time. I was reading through it while you were snoring all morning."
"Hey, I don't–"
She put a finger on his lips. "And I found a lovely concoction called Love in the Afternoon. It has white rum, orange juice, coconut, strawberries and cream. Sounds delicious. I thought if I had the ingredients, I might make one."
Leaning back against the kitchen table, Mike crossed his ankles, his arms stretching as his hands gripped the table's edge. Carolyn's gaze was snared by his shirt falling open.
"It's not strictly afternoon, babe," he said. "Yet. I haven't slept that long."
Her heart galloping at the sight of such chest expanse, Carolyn shimmied up against him, pressing her face to his skin. "Maybe by the time I get to making it, it will be afternoon."
She kissed an exposed nipple and he growled in response. "Is that an invitation?"
"You know it is."
She reached up for another satisfying kiss and he didn't disappoint. His lips rocked onto hers and she felt herself lifted and swung, knowing she was headed for the top of the table. As he laid her upon its surface, her hip butted against something and a scrape and clunk reminded her about the liqueur bottle he placed there. Flinging out a hand, she managed to save it from rolling onto the floor.
Laughing, she sat up, regretfully pushing him from her. "Maybe this time, I should stick to the job at hand."
"Your loss, babe."
"I'm sure." She gave him a sly grin.
He jerked his head toward the recipe book still in her other hand. "Is there anything in there of interest?"
Nodding enthusiastically, Carolyn waved it at him. "Lots! And you wouldn't believe the names they dream up for combinations of alcohol." She flipped through the pages to the index. "But given your present mood, I'll just let you in on the ones that will…interest you." Her lips twitched as she held his eyes with her own, then looked back at the book. "Between the Sheets, Bosom Caresser–"
"What?! What was that one?"
Carolyn bit back a laugh. "I kid you not. Bosom Caresser."
"What the hell's in it?"
"Brandy, orange Curacao, Grenadine and egg yolk."
"Ugh." He grimaced. "I think I'll stick to mimicking it rather than drinking it." He slid his hands up her ribcage and firmly cupped her breasts, massaging them with just the pressure she liked.
Tightly shutting her eyes, Carolyn fought the urge to give in. "Are you interested in hearing this or not?"
He stepped back and leaned against the table again. "Yeah. Against my baser instincts. Although I liked my first idea best."
She lifted a brow at him. "Give the table a rest, okay?" Flicking back to the index, she ran her eyes down the list. "Right. How about a Comfortable Screw?"
"Is that another offer?"
"No! That's the name for…" Flipping the pages, Carolyn found the recipe. "It's a variation of the Screwdriver and comes in two versions. The Comfortable Screw has Southern Comfort with the original vodka and orange juice and there's a Slow Comfortable Screw which has Sloe Gin in it." She pretended to fan herself. "I'm getting hot. Are you getting hot, hon?"
"'Round you? Always." He linked his hands around the back of her waist and drew her hips against his, making her aware of how hot.
Pulling back slightly, Carolyn resisted, enjoying the game of teasing him with the cocktail names, and their subsequent flirting, too much to be diverted.
"Now, what's next?" she said. "Ooo, Death in the Afternoon. I'll leave that one alone. That's for when you're on the job, not off it. Depth Charge, Fourth of July…Makes me think of rockets. That's what goes off when you push my buttons. Freddy-Fud-Pucker? I don't think I want to know."
"I don't either," he murmured, nuzzling her neck.
Squirming from the shivers running down her body, she briefly closed her eyes. "You losing interest? That's some attention span." Searching the index, she found a cocktail that was familiar to her. "Now, that's better. Golden Dream. That's when I dream of you."
"You dream of me often?" He breathed into her ear and her knees buckled, refusing to hold her weight.
"Not really," she gasped. "But when I do, they're not so much golden as…fiery." She grabbed his arms as the tip of his tongue circled her ear. "Unnnh. And hot and…whew, Miiiike…steamy."
"I expect nothing less."
He swooped on her mouth and she finally allowed the exquisite diversion, circling his neck with her arms. Pressing herself against his length, she felt all the planes and angles of him. Raw need ground her hips into his.
Panting, she came up for air one more time. Keeping her body deliciously molded to his, she held the book open behind his shoulder and peered at the print, licking her lips.
She groaned. "Oh, I don't think you want to hear this one."
"C'mon, tell me," he rumbled, sliding his hands between them to unbutton her blouse.
"Kick in the Balls."
"What?!" His hand froze on her last button, his face dazed with disbelief.
"No lie." Turning the pages, she searched for this ignominiously named drink. "White rum, melon liquor, coconut cream, orange juice and fresh cream. Oh my god! I'd love to taste that one."
"You would. Our past history has already convinced me you have no respect for my family jewels."
Carolyn's jaw dropped and she felt her eyes strain wide. "Ohmygod!"
"I don't believe this. Someone actually named a drink–"
She ignored him, flipping rapidly through the pages, convinced this drink name was a joke. Mike tried to take the book from her hands, but she clung onto it, dodging him to get back to the page she sought.
"Behave, Mike! I found it. Listen. Vodka, Southern Comfort, Sloe Gin, Galliano, and orange juice–"
"That sounds familiar."
"Yep, it's another variation of the Screwdriver. This one though is called…wait for it…"
"Carolyn," he growled.
"Long Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against the Wall."
He snatched the recipe book from her hands and threw it on the table. "That's it. You're in the bedroom. Now."
"Not up against the wall?"
"If you insist."
Feeling herself lifted from the floor, she hung onto his shoulders tightly as he carried her into the living room. Her feet touched the carpeted floor and Mike's hands finished with the buttons on her shirt before slipping it from her shoulders.
Carolyn slid Mike's shirt down his back and threw back her head to give his lips access to her neck.
"We've still got 'M' to 'Z' to go," she breathed.
"What could…" His lips were following a path down her neck to the swell of her breast. "…possibly come after?" Tongue moistening her nipple, his mouth closed over it and sucked.
Carolyn's nails dug into his shoulders as she collapsed against the wall. "Ah, shit!"
Mike's hands were pulling down her sweat pants, hooking the thong she wore as he went. His face butted her other breast before seizing it.
"Unnnh, honey…" She frantically ran her fingers through his hair, shamelessly encouraging him for more pressure. He denied her, going for tongue and teeth skill instead. "Ohhh, shiiiiit!"
Shaking her head clear, she gasped through the thrumming of her blood. "I just remembered," she panted, "I did see…what…might come after this."
Mike lifted his head and, bereft at the cessation of the pleasure he was giving her, Carolyn was sorry she opened her mouth.
"And that is?" he asked.
She blinked innocently at him. "Why, Mulitple Orgasm of course."
"It's a drink?"
She lovingly ran her hands down his face, her thumbs probing his lips. He nipped the pad of one and she mewed at him. "Yeahhhh, I think it had Bailey's Irish Cream in it. And Cointreau. But if I remember correctly, when you add Galliano, you get a Screaming Multiple Orgasm. Can we try that one?"
Mike bent at the knees and pressed his mouth to her stomach, then slowly slid his lips further down. Swinging his head side to side, he tongued her hip bones and then zeroed in on her belly button. Carolyn's pelvic muscles grabbed and she groaned out loud.
"Do you have Galliano?" he asked, breathing into her.
Carolyn squealed, her hips wriggling against the wall. "Not…handy…noooo."
"Then can I try it without the Galliano?" He nipped her gently.
Carolyn took a huge gulp and bit her lip to prevent her yelp being louder than it had to. "Be…myyy…guest."
Straightening, Mike undid the clasp of his jeans and slid them from his hips along with his boxers.
Her eyes avidly watching him, Carolyn wet her lips. "And then…" she whispered.
Kicking away his jeans, Mike cocked a brow. "Go on."
"I think I'll finish with…a Galliano, Bailey's Irish Cream and Kahlua."
Splaying his hands over her ass, Mike lifted her easily and pulled her to him. "And that one is called?"
She pressed her mouth to his, desperately eating him up as his body took hers. Guttural sounds resonated from her throat producing a primal rawness that reverberated through her body. Giving one last attempt at sanity, she pulled back and kissed him tenderly.
"It's called, P.S. I Love You."