Disclaimer: All characters (unless otherwise specified) belong to Aaron Spelling, E. Duke Vincent, Gary Tomlin, NBC, et al and are used here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes.
Rating: PG18 (for adult content)
Spoilers: Episode 94
Summary: My hand trembled as I turned around, a ridiculous beyond ridiculous thought entering my mind.
A/N: I just think this scene could've taken a more interesting turn.
"Gregory, that look that you saw? I think it's called love."
"I know what love looks like, Olivia. That's not what it was."
His hand brushed against mine, our eyes meeting for the briefest of moments. What I find there is too honest to stand.
So I do.
With a shaky sigh, I stood, my heart racing. The memory of Cole's lips against mine makes me cringe. I raise my hand to my lips, as if that could erase the way his mouth pressed against mine. Lies and deception had become second nature to me in recent years. And, Cole...he was the biggest lie that Gregory could never know about. I felt my cheeks burn and I looked down as a wave of disgust went through me. My family would be ruined. And, if by some chance, Gregory didn't kill me, our daughter would hate me. Gregory, Caitlin and Sean...they would all hate me.
But, Cole would keep quiet if he wasn't backed into a corner. If he wasn't forced to reveal the ugly truth about our affair, it could stay in the shadows, where it belonged. And, right now, Gregory was forcing Cole's hand and putting us all on a collision course for disaster. I glanced over my shoulder, watching my husband. He was still on the sofa, the ice pressed against his mouth as he stared off into space. My hand trembled as I turned around, a ridiculous beyond ridiculous thought entering my mind.
But it might work. It just might work.
I forced myself to walk, one foot in front of the other. My heart pounded, my fingers dancing against my pants before I balled them into tight fists. I stood before him, our feet touching as I waited. Several moments went by before he noticed me, sighing as he looked up expectantly. With a quick inhale of courage, I gave him a small smile as I slipped out of my sandals. I came down several inches, standing in my bare feet before I sank into his lap. He slowly lowered the ice compress as his eyes flashed and I couldn't help but feel a sigh of relief.
Some things would never change.
I straddled him, my legs tucked up tight on either side of him. His eyes burned into me, but I couldn't bear to look at him. Not yet. Instead, I slipped my lavender jacket off, one arm at a time. It fell to the floor with a whisper and I couldn't help but shiver, fine bumps rising on my now bare arms as I looked down.
"Of course, it's love," I murmured, covering his hands with my own, our fingers locking together. "He's her first love." He sighed, shaking his head angrily. "Darling, you don't understand. You were never a twenty year old girl."
He looked up slowly and I know he's about to roll his eyes. I reached out, brushing his tie aside. Leaning down gently, I finally let him meet my eyes. My eyebrow arched as I pressed against him, our lips brushing together. "Olivia," he sighed, annoyed, even as he sat up to meet my mouth.
"She and I were both destined to love Deschanel men," I continued and I felt him stiffen. There was nothing he hated more than to be reminded of my past with AJ. Knowing now that Cole is his son, it really isn't hard to understand why my husband resents him so much. It's the past come back to life.
I kissed him quickly, my lips parting to let him in before I pull back, loosening his tie. "She'll learn, like I did, that you can't love a Deschanel man forever. They don't let you." The ice falls to the floor, the cubes shattering as he reached around to cup my rear. I let him pull me in, forcing myself to gasp as our chests pressed together. Our quiet breathing filled the silence as I pulled the tie free and draped it around my own neck. I saw him lean up slightly so I met him, taking care to be gentle with his bruised mouth. He, however, kissed me ravenously and I know my lips will bruise. His fingers dig into me, pulling me in until the line between our bodies blurred and disappeared.
His hands slipped beneath my shirt, sliding up my back to unhook my bra. I unwound my arms from around his neck, sitting up long enough to pull the sleeveless blouse up and off. He reached out, my bra straps slipping from my shoulders as I leaned back against him.
"Forget Cole," I murmured, my lips dancing against his ear. "Call off the police...please, Darling." He groaned, shaking his head as he heard that name on my lips. I let him turn my face, pressing his mouth to my aching lips to erase Cole's name from them.
With a sigh, I pulled back, sliding away from him. He leaned back against the sofa, watching as I re-hooked my bra. "Not even for me?" I asked in a whisper, swinging the tie tauntingly. I reached out, running my finger down the line of buttons on his shirt. My hands fell lower, my fingers dancing near the buckle of his belt. His eyes were dark, burning with a desirous fire that I knew all too well. I leaned in, my hips grinding against his as I slowly undid his buttons.
"Liv," he murmured as I finished the last button and pushed the shirt open. My fingertips traced lazy patterns on his chest, my nails raking through his chest hair.
I felt his stomach muscles tighten as I skip over them, the breath catching in his throat as I finally open his pants. I slipped closer, my heart racing as a sigh of longing escaped my lips. "Please," I repeated, the zipper of his pants humming as I leaned in, letting his hands grip my arms.
My plea died in my throat as he pulled me hard against him, forcing me off his lap and onto my back. The leather cushions gave beneath me, my legs involuntarily bending before I vaguely realized he's taken the upper hand. I'm pinned beneath him, my arms wrapping around his waist as we shared air.
The doorbell chimed through the foyer at the same moment Gregory's hand dives beneath the waist of my pants. I quickened, the weight of his hand showing no sign of easing as my silk panties ripple beneath his palm. Every sense tingles, his weight crushing me into the sofa. I can't help but gasp as he ripped my pants open, lowering his mouth to the hem of my panties.
I threw my head back, letting a moan rise from deep in my throat. His hands slipped from my hips to my thighs, pulling the pants down. I arched my back, my hips jumping as he blazed a trail across my aching flesh. Tongue, teeth and lips danced across my lower stomach as he grips my thighs, pushing them apart.
Pounding at the door disturbed the silence, someone bellowing my husband's name. I whimpered as he sat up and I forced my eyes open, not realizing I had even squeezed them shut. Gregory's disheveled, his hair falling across his forehead as his shirt hung open. "Goddamnit," he hissed, kneeling up as he glared across the room to the door. "It's Torres."
Torres. The name got my attention and I leaned up on my elbows, exhaling deeply. He's already zipped his pants and he's haphazardly doing up his shirt buttons when I wrap my legs around his waist, locking them. "Darling, tell him," I sighed, my lungs straining against my chest as his eyes fly up to mine. Frustration is written across his face and I tighten my legs, reaching out for him. "Tell him you made a mistake."
His fingers brushed against mine and I let him pull me up, wrapping his arms around my waist. My breasts flattened against his chest, our lips dancing together as our heavy breathing filled the silence. He leaned in, his arms loosening and I use the moment to scramble up from the sofa.
I turned quickly, my body aching and mourning the loss of his touch. His swear echoed behind me and I paused at the base of the stairs, glancing over my shoulder. He shoved his shirt back into his pants, brushing his hair back. He met my eyes as he passed me on the way to the door and he reached out, quickly unhooking my bra.
I grinned, slowly walking up the stairs. I heard him wrench the door open, tersely greeting the detective. "No, no," I heard him say a moment later, practically growling. "It was a mistake. My daughter left of her own free will."
I let my bra fall off, dropping the black silk down to the top step. He would appreciate the prize.
Less than a week later, we were in our bedroom, dressing for dinner. Caitlin wanted the four of us to play nice at Grenadine's, five courses of her reminding us that she wasn't a child anymore as she rubbed her relationship with Cole in our faces. Gregory had sulked all afternoon, snapping at all of us before he locked himself in his study. I could already feel the headache burning behind my eyes.
I slid the strappy black heels on, kicking out my feet to admire them. They were probably the only good thing about tonight, I thought, frowning glumly. Despite what I've said to Gregory, I'm not looking forward to sitting between my husband and my ex-lover, making polite small talk for my daughter's sake. Dante couldn't have imagined a more tortuous level of Hell.
"Those are nice," I heard Gregory say from behind me and I looked up, nodding my agreement. He pressed his chest to my back, meeting my eyes in the mirror's reflection. His arms went around my waist, holding me snug against him. "Where did you get them again?"
"Milan," I murmured, suddenly conscious of the way his lips brushed against my throat. His body shifted and his knee slipped between my legs, parting them from behind. "Darling," I gasped, flinching as his hand snaked up beneath the hem of my cocktail dress. "We don't-"
His fingers danced over the flesh of my right thigh, skimming the scalloped edge of my panty hose. "We have all the time," he insisted calmly, unclipping the garter and brushing it aside. A moment later, his fingers slipped between my legs, an electric current humming through my body.
I collapsed back against him as his fingers worked, toying with me. My back arched, unconsciously giving him better leverage as I turned my face into his neck. He lowered his head, pressing his lips to mine as he devoured them. I couldn't help groaning as my arms went up, cupping the back of his head to pull him closer.
Gregory's fingers conjured a wicked magic and I writhed against him, whimpering as I ripped my mouth away from his. My chignon collapsed, waves of chestnut falling around my shoulders and for a brief moment, I heard him chuckle. His fingers stilled and slowly, oh so slowly, he pulled them free. A moan grew low in my throat, rising to an unsatisfied cry as he removed his knee from between my legs.
He held me up gently, brushing my hair aside to kiss the back of my neck as my heavy breathing filled the silence. His fingers combed through my hair as I hung my head and leaned against the dresser. "Just letting you know I expect to be rewarded tonight for going through with this charade," he whispered.
My shoulders shook as I looked up slowly, his smug expression only fueling the hungry ache in the pit of my stomach. I turned slowly, facing him as I forced a smile. Carefully, I raised my right leg, propping the Italian shoe against his thigh as I slowly pushed my dress up. His eyes were riveted as my hands smoothed the panty hose, ankle to thigh, before I reclipped the garter.
I let him cup my calf for only a moment before I lowered my leg, straightening my dress. Ignoring the lusty flames burning in his eyes, I leaned against him, my hips rubbing against his crotch as I whispered, "You're not the only one."
And, just like that, dinner with our daughter and her boyfriend became much more worthwhile.