What can I say...hope this chapter doesn't disappoint and I love you all for reading and letting me know your thoughts.

Chapter 3

For a few heart-stopping seconds, neither of them moved. Eyes open, lips pressed together, bodies still maddeningly apart; it felt like time had frozen. As though the earth had truly stopped spinning because of the sheer impossibility of what they'd just done.

Felicity could feel the solid thud and bump of her heart as it pounded inside her chest – thought that maybe, given the blanket of silence she could swear had fallen over them, she could hear Oliver's too. She wasn't given too much time to think about it, however, because only moments later Oliver tilted his head slightly to one side, slanting his mouth over hers, pressing his lip insistently against her. She gasped, her lips parted, and that was all the invitation Oliver needed to deepen the kiss.

Felicity's eyes shuddered closed as his tongue darted out to tease along the edges of her lips, tasting her, moving so frustratingly yet deliciously slowly that Felicity didn't know whether she wanted to pull him closer or take pleasure in the unfamiliar sensation of his lips pressing against hers. When his tongue finally delved into her mouth, she had to bite back a moan.

He knew. Somehow he knew that she'd swallowed the little noise as he'd wrapped his tongue around hers because he was nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth and her eyes were flying open to meet his heated gaze.

They were breathing heavily, unevenly, when Oliver pulled away just far enough for her to be able to focus on his face. Their breaths mingled, lips brushing together with each heavy pant of air as they desperately sucked in oxygen that didn't seem enough to fill their lungs in a room that suddenly felt too hot.

His lids were heavy as he looked down at her. She supposed that was lust she saw staring back at her because it made her already stilted breaths catch in her throat and her stomach clench. It made her skin feel hot and too tight for her body. It made her squeeze her legs together as her body throbbed with want in time with her thudding heart. She wondered if he'd even closed his eyes or whether he'd been watching her practically fall part under his mouth.

A thrill raced up Felicity's spine when she realised that she wanted to see him lose his iron-tight grip on control. She wanted to watch his eyes slide shut with pleasure. She wanted to hear him moan. She wanted to feel his fingers clench desperately into her skin and his muscles tremble under her own.

Without sparing it another thought, she clenched her fingers in his shirt at his waist – used it to pull him to her as she lifted herself up on her toes, pushed herself away from the wall, and brought her body flush against his. Her mouth captured his in a bruising kiss.

Suddenly it was as though time was racing to catch up with them. His hands left the wall and tangled themselves in her hair. This time, Felicity's eyes remained open long enough to watch as his lids dropped and his eyes finally closed.

Oliver framed her face with his hands and tilted her head back to deepen the kiss. Felicity's eyes slid shut on a low moan as he pulled her tongue into his mouth and she shivered. Her hands tightened their grip on his waist, pulling him even closer until there was no space between them from thigh to chest.

Her hands moved up, digging into the hard planes of his back as his lips moved from her mouth over her cheek and down to her neck. His stubble rasped over her heated skin and Felicity gasped as he nipped lightly at her neck then laved the sensitive spot with his tongue, his lips working to soothe the marks left behind by his stubble.

She wanted to tell him he didn't need to worry about that. That she loved the alternating sensations of hard and soft and the heat of his mouth against her, but she couldn't form the words with swollen lips. She used her hands instead, bringing them around, sliding them up his chest and around his neck. He didn't have enough hair to grab, but she lifted his head up off her neck, and registered his surprise before capturing his lips with her own again.

This time, she took charge. She held him to her with one hand at the nape of his neck and the other wrapped around his shoulder as her lips found his, her tongue alternating between playing against his full bottom lip and dragging against the wet heat of his own.

His hand slid heavily down her spine to press insistently against her lower back, as though he could bring her even closer. The other stayed tangled in the hair at the back of her head, holding her firmly in place against him.

There was blind desperation in the tight grip of fingers against skin, in the press of their lips together, in the shuddering breaths they swallowed with every kiss. It was a relentless onslaught of touch and taste driven by a deep and driving need to be close, to be closer, and to feel something more than the terror of memory, the fear of the unknown future, and the guilt over everything.

Hand tightening against his shoulder, Felicity's fingers slid against the damp fabric of Oliver's shirt and suddenly there were too many layers between them. She moved her mouth over the harsh stubble along the hard line of his jaw, lips tingling deliciously from the sensation, down his neck to bite down lightly on his collarbone. She used his light hiss of surprise to grasp his shirt by the hem and pull up. She caught the small smile at the corner of his lips as he released his hold on her just long enough for her to drag it up and over his head. She tossed it into some random corner of the room.

She'd seen him shirtless and working out far too often to be in awe of him any longer, but she'd never been in a position where she could simply reach out touch him in any way she wanted. Now that she could, she was hesitant. Mere moments ago, she'd wanted nothing more than to get his shirt off, but now she thought maybe she wanted to put it back on him.

His chest rose and fell with hard, shuddering breaths. Her fingers clutched at air as she tried to decide where to put them amidst a dizzying haze of lust. His hands settled onto her hips, his fingertips digging into her skin. She felt his mouth hot on her temple as he pressed a kiss into her hair.

Felicity closed her eyes. She was thinking far too much.

She started at his waist. His stomach muscles clenched as she lightly traced her fingertips along their lines. Hers clenched in response, sending a hot curl straight to her core and for a moment she wondered how that was possible before she dashed the thought aside and continued moving her fingers over him – then followed with her hands. She smoothed her palms down his sides and over his back. Feeling the scars there as they tugged at the smooth skin of her palms, she didn't focus on them.

She focused on him, on Oliver, his skin hot to the touch beneath her fingers and slick with sweat. She worked her hands over the solid planes of his chest, felt his breath hitch and hiss into her hair as she stroked the pads of her thumbs over his hardened nipples. Sweeping her hands over his shoulders, she curled her fingers over the nape of his neck and pulled his head down to hers.

This kiss was slow like the first, but less teasing. It was almost lazy as their mouths moved together in a more familiar rhythm. There was no mad rush forward this time, only a slow languid pace of lips over lips and tongue against tongue that stoked the fire between them until Oliver's fingers were clutching desperately at her hips and Felicity was pressing herself insistently against him.

Her neck was beginning to protest his height and her position. Mouth never leaving his, she used one hand to push against his chest, walking him backwards towards the bed. Three small steps and his legs were hitting the edge. With a hand on his shoulder she pushed him down.

They pulled apart as he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the mattress, his hands still on her hips as he pulled her gently to stand between the splay of his legs. She knew what he wanted – would have been able to tell just by the heated look on his face if he hadn't already been tugging gently at the hem of her t-shirt. Her hands fell over his, their fingers tangling together for a second before she grabbed at her shirt and yanked it over her head before she could change her mind.

Air hit her heated body, cooling her skin and drying the sweat beaded along her spine. For a flash of a moment, she wanted to pull her arms over her chest and hide, but Oliver was bringing his mouth to her stomach, his eyes on hers. All she could do was watch in fascination as his lips met the smooth plane of her stomach and shiver as his lips met her bare skin. He kissed her once then twice and the third time finished by dragging his tongue and teeth from her stomach to nip at the spot between her breasts before soothing it with an open mouthed kiss that had her dropping her head back and gasping. He continued along the same path, back and forth over her skin, alternating between licks and bites as his hands smoothed around her waist.

His hot mouth chased his callused fingers as they explored her torso in a way that had heat curling in her belly and her fingers clutching desperately at his shoulders. He paused with his hands at the sides of her breasts, didn't move until she brought her head back to meet his gaze with a look of frustrated confusion.

That small smile was back at the corner of his lips and Felicity couldn't quite resist the urge to bend down and taste it. She saw his eyes widen at that before he turned his head just enough to capture her lips. He reached up to brush the hair that had fallen like a curtain around them back over her ears before lowering his hands back down to her waist and tugging her closer.

She stepped to either side of his legs as he closed them and settled herself carefully on his lap, knees to either side of his body and pressing into the mattress beneath them. Oliver groaned into her mouth as she slowly settled her weight on top of him, the hard length of him pressing against her sensitive core. She pressed a hard kiss against his mouth as his hands pulled her hips down to hold her firmly against him.

He dragged his mouth from hers, back down over her neck, all hard stubble and soft lips, until he reached that spot between her breasts again. This time he didn't pause as he palmed her breasts in his big hands, his calluses rubbing against the sensitive flesh of her nipples. Felicity gasped and grabbed at the back of his head.

She wanted to protest when one hand left her breast, but the words died in her throat and she moaned as he replaced the roughness of his palm with the hot, wet heat of his mouth. He sucked her nipple to the roof his mouth and his fingers pinched lightly at the nipple of her other breast. Felicity was slowly being driven mad by the dueling sensations.

The heat slowly unfurling deep in her belly was leaving her throbbing between her legs and as Oliver switched his mouth over to lavish attention on her other breast, she ground down against him, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through her and Oliver muttering expletives into her skin.

Felicity couldn't help but smile up at the ceiling at his reaction. As pleasurable as his mouth on her breast had been, she wanted to hear him again. She rolled her hips against him and felt his stubble scrape against her chest as he panted heavily, his hands tightening on her hips in an attempt to stop her movements.

She pulled his head away from her chest and slanted her mouth over his in a hard, wet kiss. She'd call it sloppy if she'd thought he minded, but he returned it with equal ardour, their tongues sliding together. She resumed her rolling motions against his hips, felt him harden further beneath her and it spurred her on.

Bringing her chest flush against him, she revelled in the hard feel of his body against her softer one as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, the tips of her fingers digging into his bare back. He shot his hips upwards as she rolled down and Felicity couldn't stop the loud moan that escaped her mouth or the way her fingers scrabbled against his back.

It was suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. She wanted more, but more of what exactly she didn't know. The pressure between her legs was becoming unbearable and the coiled heat in her stomach was threatening to burn her from the inside out.

Oliver's fingers moved from exploring the exposed skin of her torso to playing at the waistband of her shorts and it was as though a thousand bells began ringing in her ears and all she could think was that she needed him to move his hands lower.

She moaned out a strangled, "Yes," into his mouth and Oliver's hand went from the edge of her shorts into her shorts. Suddenly his hand was right where she needed it to be, pressing against the most intimate part of her in exactly the way she needed him to. His fingers slicked over her wetness, slipping through her folds, and sliding once against that small, hard bud in a way that had her shuddering against him. Her mouth slid away from his to rest against his cheek as he worked his hand against her.

He found that most tender spot again, rolling it between his fingers. Felicity clenched her jaw almost painfully to keep from releasing the noises gathering at the back of her throat as the calluses on his fingers rubbed against her in a way that had her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Oliver latched onto her neck with his mouth, suckling at the spot behind her ear. He palmed a breast with his free hand and Felicity was left clutching tightly at his shoulders for purchase.

Between his hands and his mouth, Felicity felt like she was about to explode from the sensations warring for her attention. But when Oliver began to ease a finger into her it was like everything was being narrowed down to that single point of focus - to his heel pressing against the top of her mound as he slowly slid one long finger inside of her, curling it against her and forcing a hoarse gasp and moan and strangled "oh" from her throat.

She ground down against his hand, needing more at this point than the tease of his finger. She could feel her release like a tangible thing just beyond her reach and it was fraying at the edges of her control. She felt Oliver's small, uncontrolled thrusts underneath her hips, his gasps against her breasts as he thrust another finger into her, and there was something empowering in the knowledge that he was just as out of control as she was – that somehow her pleasure was giving him pleasure. That knowledge was enough to have Felicity pressing down hard against his hand, head thrown back, a loud moan escaping her throat as she ground down again as he thrust against her.

She could no longer tell where his mouth and hands were on her body or what part of him she was desperately holding on to. All she knew was a white hot need that was being made greater, not less, by the sharp jolts of pleasure that began between her legs. They were racing throughout every part of her body, triggering a cascade of heat that began low in her belly and ebbed and flowed with each downward grind of her hips and upward thrust of his hand, until it all suddenly coalesced into a fixed point that had her arching her back and crying out sharply, her mind a blaze of white, before collapsing against Oliver. Her forehead fell against his as she struggled to catch her breath.

As she came down, her surroundings slowly came back into focus. Oliver's fingers trailed lightly up and down her spine, the light breeze from the open window cool against her fevered skin. She hadn't noticed when he'd removed his hand from her shorts, but it now rested lightly against her side and she could feel the wetness on his fingers damp against her skin.

She should be embarrassed, she thought to herself, but she couldn't seem to muster up the energy to do it.

And she could feel him.

He was still hard beneath her. The lazy way he moved his hands on her body as she recovered belied the tension she could still feel in his shoulders and she wondered exactly what it was costing him to remain so completely immobile between her legs.

Squeezing her thighs around him lightly, she rolled her hips against him. His fingers stuttered against her back, both of his hands moving back to grip tightly at her waist. He was shaking his head against hers, his mouth opening to speak, but Felicity silenced him with a soft, slow kiss.

She wanted this. She wanted to make him feel as good as he'd made her feel and she wanted it down to her very bones. It wasn't a matter of pride. It wasn't even a matter of reciprocity. But for the first time in months, she felt light as air and if she could give that to him then she would.

Felicity pushed against his shoulders and motioned for him to move back on the bed.

His brow furrowed in confusion, but he did as she asked when she raised herself up onto her knees to give him enough space to move. He clenched his jaw hard at the loss of contact as he slid back on the small bed to rest with his back against the wall.

Felicity shimmied forward onto his lap, leaving just enough space between them for her hands to reach for the zipper of his pants. She paused, sucking in a slow breath to calm the nerves that had suddenly taken root in her stomach, before deciding she was doing that thing again where she let her mind get in the way and deftly undid the button of his pants before she could think twice.

Dragging the zipper down, she shifted her gaze away from her hands to his face. His eyes were half closed, his lips slightly parted as he struggled to take slow and measured breaths. When she freed him from his boxer-briefs, one hand delicately wrapping around the hot, hard length of him, his eyes slid shut, head falling back against the wall with a soft thud.

Oliver hissed when she grasped him more firmly and groaned when she moved her hand down the length of him and back up in one smooth stroke. She caught the fluid beading along the slit with her thumb and rubbed it around the head of him in slow circles she hoped were as maddening as his hands had been on her. He practically growled in response, his hands gripping her thighs tightly, fingers digging in before he caught himself and relaxed his grip.

She stroked him again, her eyes fixed on his face. His lips were pressed in a tight line, eyes firmly shut, and his nose flared with each heavy breath he took as she continued moving her hand in long, slow strokes, her thumb massaging the head before each downward stroke.

He was breathing hard when she bent forward to trail her tongue up his neck, tasting the salty tang of sweat on his skin. She scraped her teeth along his jaw as she smoothed her free hand up his chest and curled her fingers around his neck and into his hair.

She began to stroke him faster, harder, and his breathing came nearly to a standstill. Every muscle in his body went rock hard beneath her as his hands gripped her thighs like a lifeline. The tension made the muscles in his neck stand out as she kissed her way along them towards his ear.

"Breathe, Oliver," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "Breathe."

Felicity dragged her mouth back to his as his lips parted with a heavy gasp, swallowing the uncontrolled pants and groans as they fell from his lips. She swept her tongue against his, her hand stroking him still faster until he was tearing his mouth away from hers, his body going rigid as his head fell to her shoulder and he muffled a strangled cry against her skin as he bucked into her hand and came apart beneath her.

She stroked his back as he softened in her hand. His breathing evened out slowly and she felt him press his lips tenderly to her shoulder where his teeth had scraped against her skin. She held her breath as his hands eased their grip on her thighs and he massaged the flesh with gentle circles of his palms.

They'd cleared the fog between them and with clarity came a newfound sense of the reality in which they found themselves. Felicity closed her eyes and struggled not to think – tried to focus on his hands and his mouth, on his body relaxed and loose beneath her and on her own.

Between the feel of his lips pressed lightly against her shoulder and his hands kneading the tender flesh of her bare thighs, Felicity could feel arousal building low and slow in her once more. Only this time, instead of it making her bold, her stomach was twisting itself into knots and her heart was pounding hard in her chest.

Lifting herself up off his lap slowly, she avoided his eyes as she straightened and stood on shaky legs. Embarrassed that he had to reach out and steady her with a hand on her hip, she pulled away from him, turning quickly to pad softly over to the small bathroom.

She flicked on the light, blinking her eyes furiously at the sudden brightness, and grabbed blindly for the sink. Turning the faucet on to full blast, she let the cold water run over her hands before she leaned down and splashed it over her face.

Bracing her hands on the edge of the sink, she allowed the tap to run and looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed and she pressed her hands to her face in effort to cool them. Her eyes were heavy, bright blue peeking out from beneath her eyelids. They were rimmed in red and she itched to take out the contacts she'd been wearing for far too long, but she'd left her glasses in the bedroom and the prospect of going back for them made her squirm.

Her hair, already frizzy from the humidity, was wild and untamed around her head. Felicity moved a hand from her cheek to her mouth, pressing her fingers over her swollen lips as they formed a silent, "oh" and her eyes widened as she took in her appearance.

Whatever mental haze had fallen over that had propelled her to kiss Oliver was beginning to clear and with that renewed mental clarity came the sharp bite of panic. She had just, for all intents and purposes, slept with Oliver Queen and that thought was enough to have her heart practically clamouring to escape the confines of her chest.

Well, they hadn't exactly slept together, chimed a voice inside her head. Felicity clung to that important technicality and squeezed her eyes shut against the images that had begun to play themselves in her mind to remind her of what had just happened between them.

No, they'd just gotten each other off, declared another voice and the panic in her stomach rose another degree. A particularly vivid image played itself in her mind that had her body warring between arousal and mortification.

"Earlier," Oliver appeared behind her, shoulder resting against the door frame, "you'd asked me why I'd come to see you."

Felicity's eyes snapped open to look at his reflection in the mirror. He looked much more comfortable half naked, with his pants still undone and slung low on his hips than she felt shirtless with her hair a mess around her face. He caught her staring at him and she felt heat flood her face, knew she was turning bright red and ducked her head back down to splash more cold water on her face.

"Yeah," she responded as she turned to face him. Self-conscious and unable to meet his eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the sink. "I did."

"To talk," he said gently. "I came to talk to you."

"Oh." Felicity gnawed her lower lip nervously between her teeth.

"You make it impossible." Oliver shook his head, eyes flickering towards the ceiling helplessly before coming back to find hers.

She reluctantly met his gaze. "Sorry?"

"I don't want you to apologise for anything," he echoed her words from last night back to her and she couldn't help but smile at him despite her discomfort.

Her chest felt less tight than it had a moment ago and when he returned her smile, she was finally able to take a deep breath. He seemed to relax as well.

Oliver glanced down at himself a moment later, two spots of colour rising high on his cheeks and it was so unexpected a sight from him that it was enough to ease the rising tide of panic.

Gesturing towards the sink, he stepped into the bathroom and Felicity stepped to the side and around him, awkwardly reaching for a towel while still trying to use her arms as a shield.

"I'll just," she held the small towel out to him, "give you some privacy to take care of," she waved a hand between them, "everything. Just toss it in the shower stall when you're done. You know…" She closed her eyes and mentally slapped herself.

When she opened them, Oliver had the towel to his stomach and his head cocked at her in the mirror.

"Not you know as in you know because you've done this before. Although," she added quickly as she stepped backwards through the doorframe and back into her bedroom, one hand on the door knob, "if you had, and I'm not assuming in either direction, that's fine because why wouldn't it be fine? I just meant you know as in-" she closed the door on herself before she could finish and let her head fall forward with a thud.

Wincing because he'd probably heard that, she pushed herself away from the door and, with a deep breath, turned to begin the hunt for her discarded t-shirt. A minute into the fruitless search, she gave up, blindly grabbed the closest one she could find, and pulled it over her head.

As she slipped it on, Felicity realised her mistake. She could smell Oliver in the fabric – the salty tang of his sweat, the pepper she'd tasted on his skin, and something softer that reminded her of warm rain and grass.

The voice of reason inside of her was telling her, in no uncertain terms, to take it off, but she was sliding her arms into the shirt and watching it fall over her thighs before she could stop herself.

The sound of running water stopped and the light from the bathroom spilled over the floor and into the room. Felicity spun around as Oliver stepped out, leaving the light on and the door open behind him.

Typically, she wasn't the sort of person who ever found herself at a loss for words. Granted, sometimes the words that came out of her would have been better off left unsaid, but the fact of the matter was that 'speechless' wasn't necessarily an apt descriptor Felicity would have ever chosen to use for herself. But neither had she ever found herself in a situation quite like this before.

Oliver Queen stood half-naked in her darkened room and this wasn't a scenario that was playing itself out within the safe confines of her fantasies. Under any other circumstances and with any other person, it would have been a cause for celebration, but while she'd long ago accepted the fact that she was powerless to stop her subconscious, she'd also developed a friendship with Oliver that she'd never realistically expected to turn into anything more.

This was more.

Oliver's eyes were following her movements as her hands twisted themselves into knots in his shirt. He'd never be the one to break the silence that had fallen between, but no words were coming to her. Not even the wrong words. As her hands continued to twist in time with her insides and Oliver stood stone-still across from her resolutely avoiding eye contact, Felicity would have settled for even the wrong words to come spilling out.

Mercifully, her phone chose that moment to ring, the sharp tone biting into the silence and all but making her sigh with relief. She made a dash for the bag she'd left slung over a wooden chair and reached around inside of it until her hand found the phone.

She glanced at the display and frowned as she swiped a finger across the screen to answer the call. "Diggle?"

"She answers her phone. It's a miracle." Diggle's dry tone sounded in her ear and Felicity couldn't help but smile at the sound of his voice.

"I've been busy."

Oliver leaned against the dresser, arms crossed over his bare chest as he listened to her half of the conversation. One eyebrow rose at her response and Felicity turned away from him as she felt her cheeks flood with heat.

"Have you found him?"

Felicity resisted the urge to fidget with her shirt. "Yes. I've found him."

Diggle released a loud puff of air into the phone, the noise crackling in her ear and she had to pull it away with a wince. Oliver made a noise of complaint behind her and she waved her hand above her head to silence him.

"Good. There's something you both need to see."

Frowning, Felicity pulled her phone away to glance at the time on the display. "It's almost midnight, Diggle."

"Bangkok's like New York – the city that never sleeps. You have a TV in your room?"

Felicity scoffed, "I barely have room in my room."

Chuckling, Diggle replied, "Well, get to a TV and find an international news station. PGT is making a move and I think Oliver's going to want to see this for himself."

"Don't bother elaborating or anything," Felicity tossed back, her words lightly laced with sarcasm. She turned back around, pointedly ignoring the way Oliver's eyes flickered up from her bare legs to her face as she walked towards him.

She could practically hear Diggle shrugging over the phone. "It's nothing we weren't expecting, but if Oliver hasn't been keeping up with the news coming out of Starling City then this'll be something of a surprise."

Diggle was trying hard to keep his tone neutral, but Felicity detected the note of anger in his voice. She couldn't exactly blame him, so she shrugged it off as they said their goodbyes and she dropped her phone onto the dresser at Oliver's side.

Looking between it and her, he waited patiently for her to offer up an explanation.

Felicity took a deep breath before raising her eyes to his and pushing all the other thoughts racing on a mad loop through her head aside. "Do you happen to have any immediate plans involving shooting arrows into unsuspecting criminals that you can't change?"

Oliver's lips quirked up at the corners. "Not exactly."

"Good." Felicity moved to find a pair of pants she could actually wear out in public.

Oliver stopped her with a hand to her elbow and gently pulled her back to face him. "Want to tell me what this is about?"

She cocked her head at him in thought. "I don't think I will," she answered. "You'll find out soon enough and the suspense will be good for you."

Pulling away from him easily, she rubbed absently at where the contact had made the skin on her arm prickle not uncomfortably.

"Felicity?" His voice chased after her as she made quick work of changing out of her shorts, ridiculously thankful, all things considered, that the shirt was long enough to obscure his view of her.

Not that he was looking, she noticed. He was keeping his eyes politely averted towards the window and there was something strangely comforting and calming about that.

Head turning to look at him over her shoulder, she raised her eyebrows at him in reply, humming softly in acknowledgement.

"It's not that I'm not enjoying the look, but I think I'm going to need my shirt back."

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