Remember when I said at the beginning of RW2 that the show can kind of kill my muse, but in a good way? I've been enjoying season five, very much. So much in fact, that there's that little niggling voice in the back of my mind that is like "Stop. Just stop writing, you amateur; no one wants to read what you think about Booth and Brennan."
But…I will prevail over that and accept my amateur status!
It's also come to my attention that I should be putting a disclaimer on these stories. Um…okay…
**clicks on cocky belt buckle**
I don't own BONES; you just wish I did.
Haha, just kidding. Oh, and this story is rated M for… mmmm…mmmmm, oh…oh, Booth…mmmMMMMMM, Oh…OHHH, BOOTH…AAAAHHHHHH…MMMMMMMMMMMMM BOOOOOOOTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Booth settled onto his back and then pulled her between his legs, her back to his front as he leaned against the headboard.
"You know, Bones…I've been thinking…"
Brennan groaned but wrapped one arm around his neck, leaning into where his shoulder met his neck. "Are you ever going to stop saying that?"
"Saying what? That I've been thinking?" Booth teased, letting his hands roam over her stomach, "Okay, okay…I've been thinking that maybe I owe you, and maybe it's time that I returned the favor, you know…with fantasies and all of that."
"What?" she asked, turning to peer up into his face.
Despite their recent activities, this conversation was making him blush, and he tilted his head to the side. "You know, Bones, fantasies. I take a week and fulfill a fantasy of yours. One per day. I think you should take the week off from the Jeffersonian to concentrate on your book. We don't have any open cases, and you can give some of the squinterns some extra homework, and you and I…" he let his fingertips dance over her stomach to her ribs, "can play."
Brennan's lips curled even as scenarios began to move through her mind. "Because you owe me?" she clarified.
"Well, yes" Booth smiled, and then slid out from under her to lay down over her, parting her thighs again, "…now that you love me."
Brennan smiled in return, letting her hand smooth along his forehead before she cupped the back of his neck, "I do love you, Booth." She whispered before she pulled his lips onto hers.
"Booth…" Brennan whispered and placed her hand on his shoulder, "Booth…wake up…"
"Mmm???" he cracked open an eye and frowned, a groan rising up from his throat as he turned over onto his stomach. "What?"
"Wake, up, Booth…it's fantasy week."
Booth snuffled and groaned again into his pillow before rolling onto his back. "Yeah, so…?"
"So…" Brennan huffed and sat up to look down on him "I think we should get started. We should plan out the week, so we know what we're going to do. You don't want to waste any time, do you?"
Waste time? Booth's mind sluggishly began moving. Hadn't they just fallen asleep? He distinctly remembered her saying she really did love him and smiling and moving together until gasping replaced words and they'd settled into a deep sleep. But now she thought…wait, what again? "Time?" he croaked. "What time is it anyways, like 3 AM?"
"No…12:03" Brennan bristled and rushed on "But the time's not really important, what's really important is that we map out my fantasies for the week. I've been thinking about it, and have come up with several that will work. I want to make sure we're…"
"Whoa…" Booth shook his head and tried to sit up, resting his weight on his elbows. "No, no, no…Bones. You're not picking your own fantasies, no way."
"What?" She blinked, then tilted her head to the side with a chuckle. "Booth…stop, that's not funny."
"I'm not trying to be funny, Bones. I…you picked MY fantasies, remember?"
Brennan frowned. "You didn't complain, if I recall."
"Well, yeah, but…" he huffed. "Jeez, Bones." He looked into her eyes and realized she was serious.
Her eyes brightened a bit, the way they did when she would look up at him while examining a skeleton and she had just figured out the answer. If he wasn't so tired, he would have groaned. "What do you have in mind?"
"For starters, role playing, obviously." She shrugged a shoulder and then reached over to her nightstand, pulling out a small notebook and a long feather pen. "And…I was thinking…"
"Whoa, Bones," he wheezed, rubbing his hand over his face, eying the feather suspiciously. "First of all…role playing? Come on, no…no, we don't…we don't want to do that."
"Yes, we do" Brennan insisted "At least, I do. And this IS my fantasy week, so…"
"So I can't satisfy you, then? Me, plain old Seeley Booth…not enough for you anymore, is that it?"
"You're not plain, or old." Brennan clarified and paused, knowing that his tone indicated some sort of deeper emotional meaning. "This has nothing to do with you personally," she began tentatively, but paused when Booth snorted.
"It's personal, Bones." He motioned between their bodies. "It's always personal."
"You didn't mind when it was your fantasy week, and we pretended to be in high school. You liked it. I KNOW you liked that."
"Well…" Booth cleared his throat. "That was different, because I was still being myself, just…a younger me, that's all."
Brennan tilted her head to the side and rolled over to her stomach, resting her weight on her elbows. She didn't miss the way Booth's eyes lingered on her back as the sheet slid down her torso. "You can still be yourself, it's like…it's like being undercover, that's all. Like Boris…you could be Boris."
Booth snorted, "No way. You do not want Boris" he huffed and slashed his hand through the air. "All he had were his knives. Trust me."
Brennan hid a smile at his tone. "Well, what about Tony?"
Booth's eyes squinted a bit and his mouth curled up slightly on one side. "Tony was cool," he admitted with a click of his tongue.
"So…" Brennan sensed an opportunity."You want to have sex with Roxie, then?"
Booth rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Roxie reminds me of Angela's girlfriend."
"You want to have sex with Angela's girlfriend?" Brennan's brow furrowed.
"What?" Booth sputtered. "No…" he sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, "I just want to have sex with you, Bones…just you…"
Their eyes met and held for long moments, as they sized each other up.
"I thought you were going to want like breakfast in bed or something" Booth confessed, "Not…" he swallowed and eyed her feather pen again, "You know…"
Brennan paused, "While breakfast in bed does sound nice, it's not necessarily a fantasy I've had of you."
His eyes shot up then and met hers. "Okay, so, just to be clear…everything you have in mind is something you've fantasized about…with me? Not just crazy kinky stuff, but…me and you." He reiterated.
"Yes, Booth," Brennan answered honestly. "You've had fantasies about me; there's nothing wrong with that. I've had fantasies about you too, for a long time. We shouldn't be ashamed of that."
Booth ran his tongue along his teeth and pulled in a deep breath. "I just don't want to pretend to be something that I'm not, Bones."
Brennan's hair slid along her back and shoulders as she inched closer to Booth, letting her lips slide up the straight line of his jaw. "What if I promise that you'll never have to? If you can always be yourself, just…a different version of yourself, will you trust me?"
Booth groaned and then nodded against her neck. "Okay…we can try it. But not every night. I want to pick some, too. You did pick most of mine, for the record."
Brennan smiled against his lips and kissed him. "Acceptable compromise…."
The words had never sounded sexier to Booth and he accepted them from her lips with his own as he let the tip of his tongue slick over hers. They kissed and smiled against each other for a few more moments until Brennan settled herself against his chest, lightly running her fingers over his skin "So, for the first one, I was thinking that…"
Wakey, wakey, Bones…Booth thought with a smile as he used his hips to push open the bedroom door. It was a little disappointing to see that she was already awake, sitting up against the headboard, her computer in her lap. Her fingers were typing quickly, a slight frown between her eyes.
"Uh, hey, Bones." Booth stood in the doorway.
Brennan looked up and smiled at the sight. Booth was standing in her doorway in a pair of dark boxers. His hair was still slightly damp, and he was carrying a tray of food. Smiling, she saved her work and closed her computer. "Hello, Booth."
Her smile was the encouragement he needed. He nodded with a cocky grin and walked over to the bed, setting the tray in front of her. "Yeah, how about that, Bones? Breakfast in bed!"
Brennan chuckled and picked up the napkin, "Very impressive, Booth." She looked up to see a pleased smile on his face. "Aren't you going to join me?"
"And eat your breakfast?" he scoffed. "No way, Bones!" He sat on the edge of her bed and smiled, "Besides, I made myself a manly breakfast and already ate it."
"Manly?" Brennan's eyebrow rose. "Meaning high in fat and liable to make you sick?"
"If you mean high in taste and liable to make me awesome, then…yes," he murmured as he leaned down, pressing a good morning kiss against her lips.
Brennan smiled and let her fingers slide over the nape of his neck in the way she knew he liked. Sure enough, he growled slightly in the back of his throat and deepened the kiss, reaching with his own hand to cup her face. With an incredibly satisfied look on his face, he pulled back and let his nose bump against hers, "Eat up, Bones…"
His voice was deep and sensual, and Brennan pulled in a shuddering breath, wondering if he was using entendre.
But he just pulled back and stood up, turning to leave the room.
"Thank you for the breakfast" Brennan spoke up, and he turned, leaning his cotton covered hip against her doorframe.
His arms crossed in front of his chest and he smirked, looking so sexy and clean and good. "You're welcome."
Brennan smiled in spite of herself, "But this isn't getting you out of the fantasy."
Booth's lips pursed. "Damn it," He turned and walked out of the bedroom, and Brennan just laughed as she looked down at her tray.
Booth keyed into his apartment and tossed his keys into the bowl by his fridge before walking into his living room, "Hey…"
Jared sat up and nodded. "Hey…what's up?"
Booth tossed the pizza he'd brought onto the coffee table and walked back into the kitchen for a couple of beers. Noticing the number of bottles on the shelf was the same as the last time he'd looked, he smiled to himself. "Nice…"
"What's that?" Jared called from the kitchen.
Booth swallowed, but didn't answer and instead just grabbed two plates from the cupboard along with a roll of paper towels. "Nothing. Who's winning?"
Jared tilted his head to the TV. "Tied. Steelers have the ball, though."
"Sweet." Booth sat down and cracked open a beer.
Jared eyed him for a moment, but didn't comment and instead just clinking his beer against Booth's.
Both brothers sat silently for the next few hours, every once in awhile cursing the TV or a ref.
"Bullshit." Jared shook his head at one point, and Booth grunted in agreement, but that was about the extent of the conversation.
By about 4:30, Jared leaned back against the couch and looked at his brother during a commercial, "So what, did you and Tempe have a fight or something?"
Booth froze and then looked up, his lips set into a hard line. "No…why would you ask that?"
"Um…because you're here?" Jared smirked.
"So what if I am?" Booth shrugged, "it's my apartment. I can't watch football in my own apartment with my brother?"
Jared didn't say anything, and Booth huffed, leaning back against the couch, "We didn't have a fight. She's just working on her book, and I wanted to give her peace and quiet, that's all."
And he had to get something from his closet, too, but he wasn't about to tell Jared that.
"I see…" Jared nodded, "Sounds good."
"Yep…" Booth pressed his tongue to the inside of his mouth, "It's all…good."
Once the second game was over, Booth sighed and walked back to his bedroom. He opened his closet door and stared at his clothes for awhile. Part of him hoped that he was wrong, that he didn't have what he was looking for. But he had a feeling he still did.
Shoving aside a few hangers, he bent over, finally finding an old duffel bag. He opened it and saw what he was looking for. With a sigh, he carried the bag to his washing machine. He started it up and began dumping the bag's contents into the soapy water starting to churn. He pulled out the one non-washable item and stared at it, shaking his head. "Bones…Bones, Bones…" he murmured to himself. She really was something else. He never would have ever, EVER guessed this was one of her fantasies about him. And to think it had been almost two years since she'd even seen him like this…
That was a long time to hold onto a fantasy. But then again…he knew how that was.
"Thanks for bringing this by, Dr. Brennan." The night receptionist at the publishing company smiled and accepted the thick file Brennan handed over. "Karen was expecting it, so I'll let her know it's here."
Brennan nodded. "Thank you. Did Karen leave a note for me?"
The receptionist frowned and then sorted through her stack of memos and envelopes. "Ah, yes…here you go."
Brennan held the paper up to the light to read it better.
"Dr. Brennan…we'll take what you have completed and begin dispersing it to the focus groups. Please continue to bring us anything you have, and we'll begin putting it together for a final read through on Friday morning. That's when we'll hear from the focus groups, too. Ciao!"
Brennan smirked and lowered the note, handing it back to the receptionist. "Please tell Karen this arrangement is fine."
"Karen is in her office. You can tell her now, if you want. Unless you're in a hurry…somewhere else to be, maybe."
Brennan paused, and the tiny flicker of anticipation in her belly flared to a steady pulsing beat, "I do have somewhere else to be…" She just smiled and turned.
And someone else…
Booth sighed to himself as he sat at the desk, his fingers flipping through the files there. He squinted at a couple of them, and then chuckled to himself, willing his body to relax. Just breathe. It's just Bones.
If any of his old Army buddies could see him now, they'd be laughing so hard. Booth leaned back in the chair, considering it all. That part of him…crew cut, starched uniform, straight arrow Booth…that part of him wasn't quite sure about any of this. But he had to admit he'd felt a tiny thrill when he'd pulled into the parking lot and scanned his way into the empty Sunday evening lab, keying into the office and sitting at the desk. He just hoped it would start soon enough, because…
"Excuse me?" A voice spoke up from behind him and Booth tensed, then turned.
Brennan knocked for the second time, smoothing her hands over her suit jacket and skirt. "Excuse me…" she knocked again and entered, "Professor Booth?"
The man at the desk looked up from his files and squinted at her from behind his black framed glasses, his blue-labcoat encased shoulders hunched over. "Yes?" He used his index finger to push the glasses further up his nose. "It's Dr. Booth actually, but…how can I help you?"
Brennan made her way further into the office, and paused when Dr. Booth stood.
"Ah…" he pulled in a breath, "Ms. Brennan." His lips formed into a hard line, and one of his eyebrows rose, "I should have known. How many times have I told you? Dr. Booth."
She just smirked and let one side of her jacket fall back as she rested her hand on her hip, her gun holster in place next to her badge, "Probably the same amount of times I've told you to call me Agent Brennan. Special Agent, actually."
She sat down and made herself comfortable on the couch across from the desk, kicking her feet up onto the nearby table, "How's it going, Squints?"
"Don't call me…" Dr. Booth pulled in a breath, "Don't call me Squints."
Brennan just shrugged and flicked at her fingernails, "You are wearing glasses after all."
There was silence for a moment, and then another sigh, "It's irrational to think that all people who need glasses are near sighted, Agent Brennan. In fact, some people need glasses for seeing things both near and far away."
"I see…" was all she said, letting her eyes roam over his shoulders. "Working kind of late, aren't you? What's the matter, no girl squint at home to keep you warm?"
His cheeks flushed and he looked at her propped feet with disdain, "I don't know what that means."
He kept his position behind the desk, not wanting this infuriating…agent to see how she was affecting him. How she always affected him. She worked for the FBI and through the new liaison program, qualified members of the Jeffersonian were sometimes required to provide forensic expertise. And so far, he'd been paired with Agent Brennan three times. The most recent case had involved them working…very closely together over a set of remains. Thankfully, she finally seemed to be getting it into her mind that he hated having his remains compromised. Just thinking of compromising made him remember the way she'd smirked at him on the way back to the Jeffersonian after their first case together. She'd insisted on driving her own FBI standard issued vehicle, and as a representative of a federally funded institution, he had no choice but to accept her conditions. But she'd turned to him from the driver's seat as she'd pulled up to the Jeffersonian, ran her eyes from his head to his gum boots, winked and said "See you, Squints", and he'd had to bite his lip to keep from reacting physically to her. He would never, ever hurt a woman, but he'd wanted to strangle her. Or…or maybe even kiss her. That wasn't all, either. He'd been actually…thinking about her. His thoughts were his worst enemy after a long day of scientific theory. It's not that he was ashamed of it; he was a man of science, after all. It was rational that his body would react to physical and visual stimuli. Couldn't be helped. But he wasn't going to tell her that.
"Did you want something, Agent Brennan?"
She pulled her feet off the table and eyed him, a slight smile curving one side of her mouth. Her hair was pulled back like it usually was when she worked, the dark strands neatly controlled in a small knot or twist or something like that. He watched as she stood up, her feet spread shoulder width apart.
Clicking her tongue against her teeth, she looked around the office, "I've got you figured out, Squints. You see…" she chuckled sarcastically and took a step closer to the desk, "Here I thought you were all about the science, but…" she clicked her tongue against her teeth again and shook her head with some disgust, "It's kind of sad, actually."
"What?" he sputtered, "I…what are you talking about? I'm a forensic anthropologist, the best in my field actually. You should know that. I helped you solve three cases, and…"
"Oh, I know all about that." She interrupted him, taking another step toward him. He swallowed as he watched her lean over to press her hands on the desk between them.
He sat down in the chair, pushing his glasses up his nose once more and then reaching for the file he'd been looking at when she'd interrupted him. "It's impossible to know everything about something, but…however, if you insist you know all about them, I can't think of anything else there is to discuss. Unless there is another case."
In a brief moment of challenge, he met her eyes. "Is there another case?"
But she didn't back down from the challenging tone of his voice. In fact, it seemed to just make her more determined for whatever she had in mind here. "No, Dr. Booth…"
Her use of his preferred title gave him pause, and his fingertips paused against his file folder.
"No, Dr. Booth…" she repeated, her voice dropping to a murmur, "There is no case. But I do have some questions for you."
"I'm…" he flushed, leaning back when she leaned forward a bit more, "I'm quite busy, as you can see. I have a lot of important work to do, so if there isn't another case, I think perhaps it's best if you left."
"Busy?" She stood up, and he breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes finally being able to relax from their attempts to not stare down the front of her shirt.
"Quite," he repeated and tried to turn toward his computer.
But she just laughed, low in her throat, the sound like whiskey and…well, sex, if he was honest with himself.
"It's a Sunday night," she mocked. "No one else is here, and it's gorgeous outside, and you're too busy to enjoy any of it?"
He frowned, a crease forming on his brow, "My work is important. I have to concentrate on it at all times. It's something you wouldn't understand."
Their eyes met then, and for a moment, a brief moment of understanding did arc between them, but he ignored it and motioned with his hand toward the office door, "So, thank you for stopping by, Ms. Brennan, but…"
Her lips curled into a smile that could only be described as victorious…but darned if he had any idea of what she'd just won.
"You concentrate on your work at all times?" she asked, "All times?"
Her fingers flicked against the buttons of her suit jacket, and his eyes were powerless not to look as her fingernails clicked against the buttons. She didn't unfasten them, but in his mind, he couldn't imagine anything else.
"Tell me, Dr. Booth…have you ever had sex?" her voice was low now, and she was walking around the desk. He froze and gasped when she placed her hands on the arms of the chair and spun it so he was facing her. "Cause I've seen the way you squints look at skeletons, and it makes me wonder. Maybe you don't even know what it's like to be touched by a woman…hmmm?"
His chest was expanding, along with other things, and… "This is highly inappropriate, and…"
"Just answer the question." She shrugged, not moving an inch. She was bent over slightly, her hands on the arms of the chair, a slight gap between her dress shirt and her skin. Again, he forced himself to keep his gaze locked with hers. But it was distracting him just as much and so he turned his face to look at his desk. If he could just concentrate on work, he would be okay.
"Because…" she continued, "here's the thing…"
Her voice was a near whisper, and she leaned further down to whisper in his ear, "I saw you, the other day. You were looking at me, and you wanted me. You think I didn't notice, don't you? Oh, I noticed. I was bent over, reaching for something from the trunk of my car, and when I turned around, you were there. You weren't just waiting for an evidence bag…"
He had nowhere to go. His neck was already turned as far as it would go, and if he turned toward her, his face would surely come into contact with hers. "You must be confusing me with someone else" he lied, desperate for her to believe him.
She laughed then, she actually laughed, and it made him stand even more on end. "I don't think so, Squints. I think for once in your life, a part of your body that's not your brain actually spoke up. But what I want to know is…" she released the chair and stood up straight.
He pulled in a thankful breath, but it was short lived when he turned to look at her and saw that she'd removed her suit jacket and was letting her hands run over the tight material of her wool skirt.
"What I want to know" she repeated, "is what you wanted to do about it."
She watched as his neck tightened as he swallowed hard. She almost felt sorry for him, she really did. Except…from the first moment she'd seen him, he'd been haunting her thoughts. A squint, no less. He wore those damn lab coats all the time and those glasses and his pants were too short half the time, but damn if she couldn't stop wondering if his shoulders were as broad as she imagined. If his waist was as tapered as she suspected under all that bulk of science. She'd lain awake wondering what it would feel like if he ever lost control. Would his brown eyes get darker or lighter in pleasure? Would his hands, the hands that so methodically examined evidence be strong on her skin or hesitant, like the soft tone of his voice?
But she was a professional, and she sure as hell wasn't going to get turned on by some squint who'd probably never seen inside a woman's covers ever. So she'd just tried to forget about him.
She'd seen the way he'd looked at her at the crime scene. It had nothing to do with science and everything to do with chemistry. The male and female kind, and if she hadn't been so shocked, she would have called him on it at that moment. But once she'd recovered, she'd looked at his face to see it as composed as ever, and she'd convinced herself that she'd imagined it.
But her dreams had betrayed her, replaying the scene over and over with varying results, and once and for all, she just needed to know if she'd imagined it.
"What did you want to do about it?" she taunted. If her tone was rougher than kind, she couldn't help that. Her dreams had left her raw and she was getting desperate. "What does a squint like you usually do? Just ignore it? I've seen you with the rest of your scientists around here. It's like you don't even know women exist."
"That's irrational…" he gasped out, and then groaned when she undid one of the buttons of her dress shirt, "Everyone knows that both males and females are necessary for procreation and the continuation of the species…"
"Ah…" another button came loose and she watched as his eyes nearly crossed to avoid looking at the sliver of a fire engine red lace bra she'd just revealed, "So that's all you think of women, then? A means to procreation?"
She could feel her lips curve up seductively as another button was undone, "You haven't answered my first question, though…have you ever…procreated?" she mocked.
"Yes" he huffed, his hands clenching on the arms of the chair, his eyes now firmly locked in place on her waist, her most clothed part.
"With actual women?" she murmured, inching her skirt up in small increments, "Or with some creation your scientist buddies made in some dark lab. Tell me…" she taunted, "tell me, Dr. Booth…"
"She was real" he gasped, and then groaned as she stepped closer. His skin felt like it was going to explode all over, and it was concentrated most acutely behind the zipper of his practical khaki pants.
"She?" his tormentor whispered. "So, just one, then?"
He groaned again and looked down and away. "This is highly inappropriate, and I wish you'd…"
"You wish I'd what, Dr. Booth?"
His jaw tightened, "I wish you'd put your clothes…" he swallowed and looked at her, motioning up and down, "back together, and…on."
Her head tilted to the side, and she frowned. "Do you really want that?"
For a moment, it seemed as if she wasn't sure. And he knew that he'd looked at her with lust at the crime scene, just like she'd said. And he'd also let her imagine that she'd created it in her own mind. And now, he had an opportunity to get out of…this, whatever it was. Because, even though they had only worked together a few times, he sensed deep down that she was a good person. He'd been impressed with her compassion for the families of the victims, and while she mocked it verbally, he sensed she really did have respect for his work. But now, he wasn't sure what to do. His brain was betraying him and his baser nature was taking over. He could lie, and she would leave. Probably embarrassed, but she would leave.
Or he could tell her the truth.
She watched as some internal struggle crossed over his face. Standing this close to him, she could see the outline of a firm jaw. His shoulders were broad, and his hands…oh, his hands were so big, and so close to her. Had she really been wrong? She didn't think so.
"Tell me the truth," she whispered. "I know you love the truth."
His jaw locked then, and his eyes met hers, angry.
"Fine…Agent Brennan," he spat out. "I find you sexually attractive, okay? More than any woman I've ever seen. But I happen to actually have self control, unlike you. I am not a slave to biological urges, and I can actually control myself in professional settings."
That stung a bit, but she was too far gone now. The anger in his voice aroused her more than anything, and she finished unbuttoning her dress shirt, letting it fall to the ground at her feet.
His breath released in a soft whoosh, and she bent over, all pretense of a joke gone.
"Why?" she asked softly, "Why so much self control? You're a healthy man, and I'm sure you've had women who are interested."
"Not really" he scoffed, and her heart paused for a moment.
"Not even…" she trailed off, taking one of his hands into hers. "Not even the woman you were with…?"
His jaw tensed and he nervously pressed his glasses up his nose as she brought his hand up to press against her lace covered breast. They both groaned then, and her eyes widened when they met his.
"That was clinical," he confessed. "We were in college, and curious about the inner workings of sexuality, and while we were both satisfied physically, there seemed to be no need to continue. We'd already learned everything there was to know."
Or so he'd thought.
But the softness of her skin in contrast to the rough scrape of the lace of her red bra, combined with the way her nipple was pebbling into the skin of his palm made him wonder if he'd been missing out on something.
"Let me teach you…" she confirmed his musing. "Let me show you. You're so damn smart, the smartest man I've ever known…' she brought his other hand to the edge of her skirt, shivering when his fingertips rubbed against her skin there. "Let me teach you…"
His fingers were brushing up against what he thought might be lace garters, and his mind went blank for the first time in his life. "What do I do?"
She smiled then, and let his hands fall from hers. Standing up straighter, she reached with one hand and undid the knot of her hair, letting it fall like waves along her bare shoulders, "Just let me do everything."
She turned then and began walking around the desk. As she made it about halfway around, she turned around, her upper half highlighted by the dim lights from the display case. He could see her reflection in the mirrored wall behind it, and behind her, he could see his own reflection. Even from the distance, he could see the flush of his cheeks, the clasp of his hands on the chair.
"Are you coming?" she purred, and his eyes met hers then. Exhaling quickly through his nose, he stood up suddenly. So sudden that his chair spun backward and crashed into his computer cart. He flinched at the noise, and turned back to it.
"It will be okay" she promised, and smiled at him, both in kindness and seduction.
He couldn't believe this was the same woman who'd taunted his vocabulary and lab coat and pristine working conditions. He must be dreaming, he figured, even though no dream he'd ever had was this linear, no matter how rational he was.
He swallowed and walked around his desk, following her over to the couch. She pressed her palms to his shoulders and tightened her hands over him, letting them run down to his elbows and back up. A small sigh escaped her lips, and a surge of…something…rose up in him.
Something elemental and not altogether unpleasant.
But then she was smoothing her hands down the front of his chest and he could hardly diagnose his own reactions.
"Let's take of this jacket, shall we?" Her fingers were nimble and she undid the buttons before smoothing her hands back up his chest to his shoulders, sliding the blue lab coat off his body and to the floor. "Ah, much better," she smiled at him.
They were so close that her breasts were pressed against his chest, and he groaned, wanting to press closer and also pull back so he could look at her again.
She took the dilemma out of his hands by pushing him back. Startled, he fell back, reaching back with his hands to find the couch cushions breaking his fall. He watched, his tongue thick, as she lifted her skirt up another inch, giving herself enough room to stand with her legs on either side of his.
"Take off your shirt, too" she requested, pleased when he didn't bother with the buttons but instead just pulled it up and over his head.
She gasped, and he froze, trying to compartmentalize her reaction.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Her low whisper caught him off guard, and he studied her, watching as her eyes caressed his skin, her hands clenched at her sides. All of a sudden she blinked and then tilted her head to the side.
"Impressive," was all she said before bending down and taking both of his hands back to hers. She slid them under her skirt to the edge of the lace thigh highs only inches below her sex. "Can you feel this? Do you feel how rough the lace is against my skin? It's a contrast" she instructed, feeling empowered by the hitch in his breath, "Sex is all about contrast. It's about hard in soft, your hard cock in my soft…" she leaned over and let her teeth run over the edge of his earlobe, "pussy" she whispered, just to torment him. And sure enough, she felt his hands tighten against her legs.
Feeling very pleased, she pulled back a bit. "Keep your hands right there."
When she removed hers and he didn't move, she smiled and rewarded him by letting the straps of her bra fall down her shoulders, "Would you like to see my breasts right now?"
His eyes moved frantically from his hands up to her face before finally settling on her chest, "Y-yes…" he swallowed, squirming slightly in his seat, "Yes, please."
His polite request made her feel warm, and she reached behind her, unclasping the bra. But instead of letting it fall from her chest, she caught it at the last minute and held it over her breasts. "Now, Dr. Booth…" she couldn't help but tease, "you have to really want this. This isn't for scientific inquiry, or whatever, right?"
"No, no…" he shook his head, "I want to see you"
"Okay…" she let the bra fall from her front between them and it landed on his knees.
He gasped and stared at it, and then her chest, and then the bra again.
She smiled and looked down. "Oh, I'm sorry…" she bent over and picked up the bra, giving him the most amazing view he'd ever seen. Her long dark hair fell against his pants and he couldn't help but squirm again. Her skirt tightened over his hands almost painfully and he just needed something to happen, but didn't know what.
When she let the bra fall to the floor beside her, she turned back and winked, "I think it's time you took something off too, don't you think?"
Bringing her hands to his wrists, she pulled them out from beneath her skirt before reaching down to unbutton his pants. His face was almost smothered between her breasts and hair and neck and skin and he shook as her deft fingers unzipped his pants. "Lift up" she encouraged and as he did, she let her hands slide to his ass, pulling his pants down his legs.
His hands came to rest on her back and then settled on her behind. He couldn't help it…
She paused but then stood up straight. "Stand up" she commanded "and step out of your pants."
He did as she instructed and kicked his shoes and pants off. She took a step back and looked him over from his head to his toes, her head tilting to the side when she saw bright red socks with skeletons on them. For a moment, her eyes met his, but he didn't react in any way.
"Your body is fantastic" she commented, letting her hands run over his bare shoulders, just as she'd imagined in her dreams. And they did not disappoint. In fact, they were more than she'd imagined, strong and wide and muscled. His chest was no different, and she was surprised at how tan it was considering he worked in the lab all the time. She chalked it up to his natural coloring and let her fingers move down his chest to his perfect washboard stomach. "This doesn't just happen…you have to work out."
Her eyes met his almost in challenge, and he nodded shyly, smoothing his hands down his sides, "I swim, and I do have a weight bench at my apartment. Sometimes…"
A humorless chuckle escaped his lips and he looked away.
"Sometimes, what?" she whispered, amazed that she was feeling such an emotional connection to him.
"Sometimes…" he pulled in a deep breath and met her eyes, "Sometimes I do feel things, after work. Things that the rest of the people I work with would think is irrational. I feel sad about death, sometimes, even though it's a natural part of the life cycle. And sometimes, I feel anger toward people who commit murders."
He was speaking to her very core, and she paused, her fingers still lingering against his skin. Trying to keep it light, she pushed gently, forcing him back onto the couch. "What else do you feel?" she asked, seeking out his eyes.
He looked up at her and shrugged, a blush covering his cheeks.
She reached behind her and unzipped her skirt, letting the dark gray wool slide down her hips to reveal a bright red lace pair of panties with ties at the sides. She stepped to the side and kicked her skirt away before moving to stand on either side of his legs again. "Would you like to feel me?"
His throat was working strongly now and he barely managed a nod as his eyes took in the long length of her legs and the smooth skin of her hips, interrupted only by the bright red of her underwear.
She smiled and then straddled him, letting one knee fall to either side of his hips.
"What would you like to feel?" she whispered taking his hands into hers, "Right here?"
She pressed his palms to her bare breasts and they both moaned at the sensation. She let go of his hands to grasp onto the couch behind him, pleased beyond pleased when he continued to caress her, his touch amazed and sure at the same time. He was one hell of a quick study, and she could not be more thankful.
"Do you feel the contrast?" she continued her education. "How rough your palms are against my flesh?"
"Yes," he grunted and shifted again, but this time, since she was above him, his shifting caused him to press against her, and they both shivered at the contact. "Please, Agent Brennan…"
She released the couch from behind her and ran her hands up and down his shoulders and arms, his smooth skin warming beneath her touch. "Touch me between my legs" she encouraged. "Be very gentle and light…"
He nodded once and then again as he let his fingertips slide down her stomach before resting lightly on the edge of her panties. She was slightly squirming now, but trying to control it and when he let his fingers move downward, she gasped and pressed into them. "Yessssssssssss"
He was a scientist after all, he knew what it meant when a woman was lubricated like this. It was a physical reaction toward optimal penetration conditions. But he'd never once felt anything like it, and just thinking about the fact that he was going to be engaging in penetrative conditions had his fingers tightening in response. At the last minute, he remembered she'd told him to be gentle and he pulled his hand back, sorry he'd overreacted.
But she just moaned and pressed his hand with hers, sliding it under her panties to her bare skin, by this time totally dripping over his fingers. "Ah, ah, ah!" he panted. "I can't…I don't know…"
She stopped and her nails bit into his shoulders, causing a pleasure pain to course over him, centering between his legs. Pulling in a deep breath, she moved back to stand in front of him. "Take off your boxers and then sit back down."
He did as she instructed, and her eyes widened at the long thick length of his arousal. She swallowed, wondering if she was getting more than she'd bargained for. But maybe it was just from this angle. Surely he couldn't be that big.
"Agent Brennan?" he was asking, and she looked back at him to see him sitting there, waiting. He reached up with one hand to pull off his glasses, but she shook her head.
"Leave them on."
His hand paused in mid air, but then he let it fall back to his side, his eyes pinned to her heaving chest.
"Untie my panties."
He reached up with both hands and released the ties on her hips, staring intently at her as the red material fell between her legs and fluttered to the floor.
Silently, she lowered herself back onto him and reached between them to wrap her hand around his erection. They both groaned, and he bucked up. She was amazed that her fingers couldn't quite wrap around him. How could this be possible? A gorgeous genius braniac scientist with the warmest eyes and biggest cock she'd ever seen? And he was all hers…
She'd only meant to tease and entice him when she'd come into his office. She'd never imagined that she'd be feeling such a connection to him as she spread her legs wider and allowed the tip of him to enter her before moving her whole body lower to embrace all of him.
She tilted her head to the side, letting her hair caress her shoulders as she began to move. He moved beneath her too, and she encouraged it with whispers in his ear and soft touches along his skin.
"How do you feel?" she had the presence of mind to ask, and he swallowed and pulled back.
For a long moment, he didn't answer. In fact, he never answered her verbally. Instead, he just leaned closer, keeping his eyes locked with hers, waiting for her to deny him permission. But she didn't, and a whisper of a second later, his lips were tentative against hers. It wasn't a deep or experienced kiss. It was just the press of lips against lips, the smoothness of skin and against skin.
He tensed, hard, and his head fell back, the veins in his neck strong as his hips lifted once, then again so forcefully that she almost fell back off of him. But she clasped onto his shoulders and fell forward, into him, their mutual orgasms powerful.
For a few moments, neither one spoke until she smiled a bit and then pulled back. She moved to stand up and looked down at him. A flush crept up his neck and he didn't quite meet her eyes.
"You were great," she whispered in encouragement.
His jaw tightened and he nodded his head back, but didn't say anything.
Feeling more naked than nude, Brennan bent over and picked up her clothes, walking to her desk to get her suit jacket before turning and facing him again. She thought he might be smiling and that he would leave with her, but he was just leaning back with his eyes closed.
Trying to think of something witty to say to complete the fantasy, but failing, Brennan dressed quickly and then left her office, waiting for Booth in the parking lot.
Booth sighed and then looked around before leaning over and pulling on his clothes. He felt a tightening in his chest as he left the office. He pulled off the glasses and stuck them in the pocket of the lab coat, draping that over his arm as he walked outside. He knew she'd be waiting for him, and he tilted his head to the side. A smile crossed his lips at her expectant expression. He couldn't help but lean down and press a kiss against her lips, "You go on home. I'm going to run to my apartment and drop this stuff off. I'll see you later, okay?"
If she was surprised, she didn't show it much beyond a slight pause in her response. "Okay…"
He turned and walked away, and just as he reached his SUV, he turned back toward her, "Jared was at my place when I left, so I might talk to him for a bit. If you're too tired, don't wait up. I'll won't be too late, though, okay?"
Brennan nodded and waved slightly, "Sure…no problem."
Booth entered the apartment, trying to be quiet in case she was sleeping. The living room was dark except for a small light near the couch. He switched it off as he made his way back to the bedroom.
Once he was there, he could see that she was asleep. She was wearing one of his dress shirts again, and with the way she was positioned, he could tell she wasn't wearing anything underneath at all. His fists clenched and he stared at her for a moment as a fire began to stir in his being. He quickly removed his clothing and then walked into her bathroom, searching through her drawers until he found what he was looking for. Clutching in his hand, he turned and made his way back to the bed. Very carefully he unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing. He didn't take it off of her body, just parted it down the middle so her entire body was open to him.
"Bones" he whispered, "Bones, wake up…"
She frowned a bit, but didn't open her eyes.
Booth took the bottle of lubricant and coated his index finger. He pressed the moistened tip against her clit once and then let it rest against her opening. "Bones…wake up…"
Her eyes opened then in confusion, and he let his slick finger enter her, finding her G spot with perfect accuracy.
"Booth," she gasped, squirming a bit.
He just pressed with his finger, no other part of his body touching hers. "You made me act like I didn't know what I was doing, Bones."
Brennan watched as his eyes glittered and he leaned forward, letting just his finger touch her. It was wet, but she was getting wetter too, just like he knew she would.
But I DO know what I'm doing, don't I? And I'm going to prove it right now. I'm going to make you come so fast, Bones" his voice was a low growl, and her nipples tightened in response. "Just so there's no doubt at all, you got me?"
He took his other hand and with his thumb and index finger, he flicked at her nipples, the ping of his fingernail a pleasant pain to her skin.
"Are you ready for it?" he taunted, his finger pressing for just an instant longer before he withdrew it, pleased that it came out twice as wet as it had gone in. Booth brought his face close to hers and their noses almost touched. He inserted his finger into his mouth and pulled it out with a hard pop. "No doubt, Bones. I'm the best. You can count to 100, or name all the bones in the body or sing your ABCs, Bones. Your choice. But it won't matter. Because before you're done, you'll be calling my name; you'll be coming so hard you can't think, you got it?"
She whimpered in confusion as he backed away before settling his mouth right over her sensitive clit. She bucked up, but he didn't relent.
In fact, his lips just tightened further. Her legs slid up until her feet were planted on either side of him and she began to leverage her weight there to lift her hips into him.
And Booth just followed right along with her. His hands were on either side of her feet and when she lifted, he lifted, his upper body in push up formation. The pressure of his lips against her never increased, never decreased.
She watched as his arms and shoulders and back tightened in perfectly trained movements. Years of pushups, years of training, and she couldn't take her eyes off of him.
Up and down, they both moved, his lips never leaving her.
In less time that it took him to finish 15 push ups, her body was tensing and pitching. And her eyes fluttered shut as she realized he was right. She was about to… "AH! Booth…oh, damn it. Damn it, Booth. Why?" Her voice was harsh in the otherwise silent room. Her question was out there, but they both knew the answer. "Oh, yes..."
He still didn't let go and as she twisted and writhed, he was right there, as if he could anticipate her every move.
With a strong lick right to her most sensitive nerves, he inhaled sharply, his eyes still predatory as he reared forward.
Brennan sank into the mattress, her eyes locked with his.
"No doubt, is there, Bones?' he taunted in a low growl as she came down from her orgasm. "Say it…"
"No doubt…" she whispered, her eyes closing, her neck arching as another streak of pleasure coursed through her body.
"Because I'm the best?" he insisted, leaning down to suck just as strongly at the skin of her throat.
"Best…" Brennan whimpered, "no doubt…"
Booth murmured his approval against her skin as he licked and sucked his way over her neck and chest. He was concentrating so hard that he didn't notice her hand move until it was firmly wrapped around his tight cock.
"Get inside me, Booth" she commanded, spreading her legs and trying to press him into her.
"Why should I?" he taunted, still pressing open mouthed kisses against her body.
She rubbed herself all over him, and when he groaned, she took the advantage and slipped him inside of her, "Because I'm the best, too…"
Booth paused and then chuckled against her neck as he sank all the way into her welcoming heat. "No doubt, Bones."
Special thanks to pal Smurfs for the squint/cop fantasy idea and to sleeplessinatlanta for the "no doubt" Booth stuff and excellent editing!!
Also, a note on reviews. I love them, like any writer. I tend not to reply to them until a story is completely over; it's what I have to do to stay focused. But I do love getting them for each chapter. A lot of people have put these 'week' stories on their favorites list without reviewing. That's okay, I guess. But please feel free to tell me how you feel about them, or send me a private message. I don't bite (but Booth might, if you ask him nicely, haha). And to those of you who HAVE faithfully reviewed many times over the past three 'weeks', well, I am so indebted to you. I don't take those for granted.