Best Cheese steaks in the World


I own nothing

'Just lean over and kiss him.' The little voice said, 'Go on, who's to know?'

There were a lot of voices in Olivia Dunham's head: voices from her time in the military, voices from her law enforcement career, even voices from the head of her former lover and partner. But this voice was a fairly recent one, a new development that she truly hated.

Voices from her hopeless crush on Peter Bishop.

"Turn up here, then make right at the end of the street." Peter's arm extended towards her window, reaching across her body and grazing her breasts as the Federal Issue SUV stopped short at the light. As his rough skin made contact with the soft silk of her blouse, Olivia had to suppress a shudder of desire.

'Dear god! Find another stop light!' The voice whispered and in her mind's eye, Olivia imagined Peter's hands rubbing across her breasts again but this time cupping and squeezing while she tore away the blouse and took off her bra.

"Whoops! Sorry about that, Olivia." Peter said with an embarrassed grin. The hand retracted as the car began it's forward motion into traffic. Then he straightened himself up, totally unaware that she was burning to death for him in the next seat.

This was the hardest part about the whole affair: Peter was completely oblivious. With John there had been signals, signs of mutual attraction. They danced around it for months then fell together in a passionate relationship. Her feelings for Peter were so much slower. He didn't know, she couldn't tell him, it was driving her absolutely insane.

'Remember how his stubble looked yesterday? Don't pretend you weren't ready to jump him right there.' The voice was so sweet and sugary, like it was dipped in honey. The words flowed easily into her brain and she knew they were right.

'Say something…communicate dummy.'

"This is a pretty long way to drive for cheese steaks." She watched him shrug with a happy smile.

"Yeah but these are the best cheese steaks in the world."

"That's raising the bar kind of high." Olivia suddenly imagined him delicately eating one of his delicious sandwiches, maybe tearing off a piece and hand feeding it to her. It was such a potent image that she almost had to cross her legs, "What if they aren't as good as you say they are?"

"I'll make you a deal, if you eat it and hate it then I'll do something for you."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, clean your apartment…"

'Shirtless vacuuming!'

"...give your car a tune up…"

'Shirtless, sweaty, covered in grease!'

"….Oh, I know! I used to work as a masseuse in Germany; I'm a back rub expert."

Peter was still talking as they pulled up to the restaurant but Olivia wasn't listening any more. Instead she was picturing his hands rubbing up and down her naked body, touching every line, every curve, every forbidden piece of skin.

"I should probably warn you right now, Peter, I'm not really a cheese steak person."

The End