Disclaimer: Characters belong to Aaron Spelling, E. Duke Vincent, Gary Tomlin, NBC, et al and are used here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes.
Summary: Looking for shells?
Gregory stepped out of his walk-in closet, tucking the blue polo shirt into his pants. He propped his foot on the edge of the bed and began rolling up his pants, one leg at a time. "What are you doing here?" a voice from behind him said.
He glanced over his shoulder and did a double-take, his mouth suddenly dry. Olivia stood in the bathroom doorway, one hand delicately balanced on her hip. His eyes inched over her, the white bikini perfectly accentuating every curve. A thick belt hung low on her hips and he watched as her hand toyed with the tip of the holstered knife. "Looking for shells?" she asked, a rosy blush coloring her cheeks as she grinned.
He cleared his throat as he stood and turned to her. "No, I'm just looking," he said honestly as he gazed at her from head to foot.
She sighed, padding across the room in her bare feet. "Stay where you are," she murmured, brushing the blonde hair back. She stepped into his embrace, his arms warm against her suntanned flesh.
"I promise I won't steal your shells," he recited from memory as she rubbed her body against his. She shivered as their lips met, his mouth hungry against hers. His hands cupped her rear, drawing her against him.
"I promise you: you won't either," she said as a moan rose in her throat. She pressed her palms to his chest as his tongue explored her mouth. The sound of his breathing consumed her, his hands holding her hips as her arms went around his neck.
He pulled back, nuzzling her throat and inhaling the scent of her perfume. Her fingers danced along the nape of his neck as he finally sighed, "Let's be late."
She groaned and shook her head as his lips found the hollow of her throat. "Oh, no…Darling, we're in our costumes."
He looked up slowly as he reached around her. "Liv, they're hardly costumes if we can wear them any day of the year," he pointed out as his fingers found the clasp of her bikini top.
She frowned and pushed his hands away. "We're going…on time," she insisted as she adjusted her top. The blond wig cascaded over her shoulder and she watched him run a frustrated hand through his hair. "You know how much I love Del's Halloween parties," she pointed out, her voice low and sultry. Her fingers skimmed against the fly of his pants as she whispered, "I'll only dance with you," she promised as he caught her hand.
His fingers threaded with hers as he pulled her against him, her blue eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. "With you looking like that, I would hope so, Mrs. Richards," he teased, kissing her.
"Say it again," she sighed, their chests pressed together. She watched his eyes wrinkle in confusion and she cocked her head, waiting until he realized.
With a gentle smile, he repeated, "Mrs. Richards."
A/N: Gregory as James Bond and Olivia as Honey Ryder for a Halloween party was too good to pass up. The recited dialogue (from "What are you doing here?" to "I promise you: you won't either") is borrowed from the movie, "Dr. No".