Swizzle Stick and Lime
Rating: NC-17
Category: MSR, Smut
Spoilers: Nothing specific. Set during Season 7
Summary: Tell me it's okay. Tell me it's okay to do this here.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to Adrienne and idella for beta services and hand-holding. Thanks and hugs to starry-eyed466 for the prompt, and the beta/read-over.
Disclaimer: Not mine, wish they were.
***
It was a swizzle stick that did it.
Mulder pondered that thought and revised his opinion. There were actually a combination of factors that contributed to the culmination of events, to the grand finale, but a swizzle stick had ended up being one of the proverbial straws that broke the camel’s back.
When Scully had suggested that they go out for drinks earlier that evening, his surprise was warranted. Their romantic relationship was barely weeks old, and had thus far consisted of a handful of couplings at both their apartments and one frenzied encounter in the storage room down the hall from the office. There had been none of the stereotypical date scenarios - no candlelit dinner at a fancy restaurant, no pizza and a movie. Not that he wasn’t interested in pursuing those activities with her. They were just moving at their own pace. Working out the kinks, so to speak.
He snickered to himself. Kinks, indeed. He had been surprised and delighted to find that Scully had a dirty streak as long and as wide as his own.
Naturally, he had agreed readily to the evening out.
***
The pub was a little hole-in-the-wall place a few blocks from her apartment. He didn’t ask how she knew about it and she didn’t share that information. Dim lighting, great music, a deep half-circle booth in the back corner. Perfect for an intimate tête-à-tête.
And other things, though that hadn’t occurred to either of them at first.
Scully ordered a margarita, while he decided on a beer. He teased her about her girlie drink, she sneered at his boring choice of ale.
Their conversation at first was work-centric. The case they had just completed, Skinner’s grudging acceptance of their field report despite the presence of holes deep enough for a fleet of Bureau cars. Their potential next case. The latest water cooler gossip, who was supposedly doing whom. An amused exchange about how the two of them were still the hottest topic in that department.
His stomach growled a hungry protest and after long moments attempting to flag down their waitress, he was eventually able to procure an order of burgers for them both.
Dinner was surprisingly good, despite the slow service. Said service was something they came to appreciate much later, he remembered with an inward smirk.
Finished with her burger and most of a second margarita, Scully requested a shot of Jose Cuervo. He smiled at her, amused, after the waitress left with the order and the dishes. Arching her eyebrow in reply, she told him that she normally preferred to do body shots with her tequila, but that this would do. For now. She licked her lips after imparting that little tidbit, and the action went straight to his groin.
Mulder fidgeted in his seat and received a knowing grin in response. Not wanting to be outdone, he stared intently at her as he informed her which body part he’d like her to suck on if and when they had a chance to do those body shots. Her cheeks colored, but the look on her face suggested she was filing that information away for later use.
Perhaps she misunderstood their order or perhaps she was psychic, but when the waitress returned she brought with her a new bottle of Jose, a bowl of lime wedges, a salt shaker and two shot glasses. She thumped the items down noisily and with a wink said she would check on them later.
What the hell, he decided.
Grasping the bottle, he neatly poured their shots, right to the brim. Scully’s movements were quick and competent as she licked and salted her hand, and he admired how easily she bolted the shot back. Her eyes, sultry and dark, met his as she sucked on a wedge of lime, and his cock twitched again. After a deep breath, he followed suit with his shot, noticing how her gaze flicked down to his lips when he licked the lime juice off, how she licked her own lips in response.
Scully set up their second shots, and Mulder watched as she downed hers as easily as she had her first, maintaining eye contact throughout. Foregoing his own shot, he continued to stare at her and she tilted her head to the side slightly in reaction. Her pose drew his attention to the curve of her jaw and the elegant line of her throat. Naturally, this led downward to the shadowy entrancement of her cleavage. He realized with a jolt there was a little more revealed than usual, one more button unfastened. It was just enough to make the view much more intriguing. How had he missed this?
Her hand came into view, touching the collar of her shirt, fingers then sliding downward to toy with the next button, and he gulped, sweat beading on his forehead. She chuckled softly and he tore his gaze away to meet her eyes once more. He watched as she used that same hand to raise his left hand clear of the table, bringing it closer to herself. Her head lowered, tilted again, leaving him with a clear view of her mouth. Her moist lips parted, and his next breath was released with an audible groan as her tongue slid out to slowly lick the skin between his index finger and thumb. He felt the contact all the way down to his toes but most acutely in his cock. Burgeoning arousal had him suddenly hyper-aware of her every action.
“Mmmmm,” she said in what could only be described as a purr. One that sent a pleasant little shiver along his spine. Licking her lips, shook salt over the wet path she had created. “Your turn.”
It was a wonder the glass made it to his lips, for he could not take his eyes off of her. He finally had to look away in order to drink, a quick flick of his wrist. The burn was immediate, shooting down his throat and esophagus, briefly setting off a fire in his stomach. He quenched it with a lime, sucking hard to pull the bittersweet flavor into his mouth.
“Good?” she asked, a hint of laughter in her voice. He nodded and watched as she poured the next shots, her hand just slightly unsteady.
Grabbing her other hand, he brought it to his lips. He drew her fingers, wet with lime juice, into his mouth, and licked them clean. He felt her shiver in response, heard her hiss of breath, and quirked the corner of his mouth at her. He followed up by licking her hand with the same slow tease she had employed and then adding the salt. Before she could do anything he licked the salt off her hand and drank his shot. Her eyes narrowed and he smiled around his lime wedge. She pouted.
“You snooze, you lose,” he told her after he had discarded the lime. “But here, let me help you.”
Instead of her hand, he licked his index finger and tapped salt on it. “Lick your lips,” he instructed. She did, swiping her tongue extra slowly. He touched his finger to her bottom lip, intending to deposit the salt, but she tore a page out of his own script and sucked his finger into her mouth, to the middle knuckle. She drew on the finger hard for a moment, her lips pursed with the effort, and then released it with a pop so that she could throw back her tequila.
Despite his shock, he had the presence of mind to scoop up a lime and suck the pulp into his mouth. As she lowered the shot glass, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, his mouth opening and forcing hers open as well. Her hand came up to rest on the back of his head as she sucked his tongue into her mouth, stealing the last traces of lime. He half-rose from the seat, the table edge pushing into his hip, and his hand tunneled through her hair to cup her neck as their tongues dueled. He thrust; she parried.
She began to tremble and then finally pulled away. Sinking back into the padded leather booth, she exhaled a gusty breath of air. One hand fanned her face as the other plucked at her shirt.
He knew how she felt - he was burning up.
“Jesus, Mulder.” She tossed her head back, eyes closed. A flush had spread down to her chest, visible through the parted collar of her shirt, and he could see her nipples poking against the material.
He salivated at the thought of sucking one of those hard little pebbles into his mouth, of trailing his lips down further…Slamming his eyes shut, he dropped his head back to rest on the high edge of the seat. He was still breathing heavily.
The slide of glass against wood had his eyes opening again and he saw that she had brought her nearly empty margarita glass closer to herself. Removing the swizzle stick with one hand, she lifted the glass to her lips with the other and drank the remnants of margarita down, lips pursing briefly in a sexy little frown as she returned the glass to the table.
“Not cold enough,” she sighed, and slid to the edge of the curved booth to peek around. She must have caught the eye of the waitress, for he heard her say, “Pitcher of ice water, please?”
Sliding back, her thigh pressing firmly against his, she met his gaze. “It’s hot,” she said unnecessarily. The swizzle stick was still in her hand and she brought it to her mouth, touching it to her lips before nibbling at it absently.
Mulder nodded agreement, staring unabashedly at her slick lips, at the way she was now sliding the swizzle stick in and out, imagining something else sliding between their pouty softness. That something else throbbed in response behind his pants zipper. He spread his legs in a futile effort to ease some pressure.
“Hydration is important,” she said around the swizzle stick. Her cheeks flushed anew as she realized she had his rapt attention.
“I like you wet, Scully,” he told her, voice low and intimate.
“Oh…God,” was her almost-whimper, the swizzle stick falling from her mouth. Her pupils were dilated from a combination of arousal and alcohol - a heady, dangerous mix. One he himself was experiencing with equal potency.
He couldn’t decide if Scully was relieved or disappointed by the interruption when the waitress appeared with the requested pitcher of water, ice cubes clattering a gentle rhythm. Her head ducked down, cheeks pink. Triple thumps followed as pitcher and glasses were deposited. The waitress poured their water, eyed the table and then each of them in turn, and when they said nothing, left with another wink.
The water in Scully’s glass sloshed from her forceful grab and dripped from her hand as she tipped her head back and drank. Mulder was so fixated on her he had forgotten his own thirst. Returning her empty glass to the table, she leaned into him and gave him a nudge with her elbow. “Drink up,” she told him, clearly both amused and pleased by his attention.
It was apparent she had regained her equilibrium, and he determined to tilt it once more. He drained his water in seconds and reached for the bottle of Jose. “Shot?” he queried, putting a little dare in his voice. He couldn’t explain the impulse; they really should leave and take their little party somewhere private.
She considered for a moment, gaze flicking from his fingers, now stroking the bottle suggestively, to his face, and then nodded, a glint in her eye. Dare accepted.
Glancing around to confirm that they were quite secluded in their corner, he poured them each another shot. “Skip the salt,” he told her, pushing her hand back down to the table. “I have a better idea.”
Twisting a little toward her, he lifted his hand and ran the backs of his fingers across her cheek to slide her hair behind her ear. He danced his fingertips along her jaw and then down her neck. Her pulse jumped against his fingertips and she emitted a soft sigh. Shifting her shirt collar down her shoulder a little, he further bared her neck and collarbone. Leaning in, he exhaled softly on her exposed skin, delighting in her shiver and how she tilted her head to give him better access. His nose brushed her jaw, caressing it briefly before letting his tongue tease at the tendon in her neck. He trailed it down lower and then sucked lightly at her skin for a moment, tasting salt and Scully.
“Mmmm.” He murmured into her neck before he pulled away. Scully swayed to follow him, as if drawn. He turned his head enough to bring the shot glass to his lips and slammed the tequila down. He was already turning back to her as he blindly returned the glass to the table - he swooped his mouth down onto hers, the tequila still wet on his lips and in his mouth. His tongue thrust forcefully and with a little moan, she reciprocated by sucking it with equal force, drinking the tequila from him.
One of her hands dropped to his thigh as she leaned into the kiss, and his thigh muscles flexed automatically. Her fingers tightened and relaxed, and then she began to knead and stroke, fingertips straying ever closer to the crease where thigh met groin, knuckles brushing the bulge of his erection.
The fleeting, intermittent contact sent little bolts of electricity through him. He moaned into her mouth and she pulled back enough to gasp in air before sliding wetly into their kiss again. His left hand dropped to cover hers and he dragged it into position over his cock before trailing his fingers along that same arm and up to her shoulder.
Palming his balls, she squeezed once and then she began to stroke firmly along his shaft. He couldn’t help the tightening of his fingers into the soft flesh of her shoulder, nor the little motions of his hips.
Her lips finally pulled away from his with a sucking sound and he dragged open heavy-lidded eyes to watch as she scanned the immediate area before placing her mouth on his neck, where she nibbled and sucked. He felt her thigh flex and then she was hitching herself up and draping her leg atop his, twisting herself to press her crotch into his leg just below where leg met hip and ass. All the while she kept up the motions on his cock, alternately squeezing and stroking.
“God, Mulder,” she breathed into his ear, sending rockets of shivery pleasure through him. “Someone…someone could see us. We must be…crazy.”
“Certifiable,” he agreed, wishing he could figure out how to get his hand between her legs without dislodging her or disrupting her hand. With no solution for his dilemma, he lowered his free arm and palmed her ass, fingers spread wide. He found himself rhythmically squeezing her pliant flesh.
She was panting now, rubbing herself against his leg, a whimper of frustration escaping at the apparent ineffectiveness of her motions. “God, Mulder,” she repeated, moaning the words. “I don’t think I can wait.” Her teeth nipped his earlobe as her hand ground down harder. “Tell me it’s okay. Tell me it’s okay to do this here.”
Oh, Jesus. His hips bucked up into the exquisite pressure. How could he refuse that request? Neurons were misfiring everywhere. Mulder had a fleeting thought about the picture they must be presenting, and the dangers inherent in their actions, but he rationalized it all away - they had their near-dark, empty corner, the deep seats and high table.
Much later, he’d think about the tacit permission she’d granted him with the words ‘tell me’, and all the implications they could explore. For now, they would willingly tumble down the rabbit hole.
“It’s okay, Scully,” he managed to get out, looking around again. “No one can see, there’s no one around.” She was right; they were crazy. But crazy had never before felt this amazingly fantastic.
Desperate to touch her anywhere, he hiked her skirt up. At the same time, he felt her hand busy with his zipper. As he encountered the silk of her panties and bare skin, he heard the rasp of metal on metal and felt the constriction against his erection abate slightly. His fingers toyed with the hem of her panties; hers nimbly slid inside his pants and sought him out through the gap in his boxers. At that first touch of her hand, he almost bucked them both through the table. “Scully,” he rasped. “That feels so fucking good.”
She eased his cock free of his boxers and pants, and he reacted to the sudden shock of cold air on his over-heated flesh with a shiver. Just as sudden and as shocking, her head ducked down and her mouth engulfed him. He thought he’d felt hot before -now her mouth scalded him with her fire.
“Uhhhhh,” he grunted, unable to contain the sound. His head fell back against the seat but he forced himself to keep his eyes open to watch for any unwanted company.
Her tongue did naughty things. Things that had him gritting his teeth to hold back his moans. Things that made him want to be selfish and let her blow his mind to fragments.
She stopped suddenly, releasing him with a pop that he felt in every square inch of his body and slithered up to take possession of his lips in a deep, hungry kiss. Easing back slightly, she whispered into his open, panting mouth, “I need you to fuck me, Mulder.”
All higher brain function ceased.
His heart started a wild hammering in his chest. He remembered to breathe, and took in an audible gasp of air. While he tried to formulate thought, she straddled his lap, her already hiked-up skirt no hindrance. Instinct had him lifting his hands to grasp her hips - still reeling from her declaration, it was all he could manage.
With sensual practicality, she slipped her panties to the side with one hand while the other took hold of his erection as she positioned herself above him. Amid the scent of limes, he could smell her arousal, still new and yet already familiar to him, and the resulting surge of lust astounded him with its elemental ferocity.
“God, Mulder,” she sighed as she slowly sank down on his length, “what you do to me.”
Human nature made allowances for pride and vanity, thus her breathy admittance was almost as overwhelming as the sensation of her slick heat enveloping his cock inch by inch.
“Scully…” he gasped. He blinked sweat from his eyes and resisted the urge to lift her onto the table and rut like an animal. “You have no idea.” Her inner walls gripped him like a velvet fist and he groaned. His control was hanging by a thread. “You’re killing me here, Scully.”
Her shaky laugh teased his ear as her body teased him with its slow, seductive glide. “Ohhh, Mulder…but what a way to go.”
It was one of those rare moments when he didn’t have a comeback. Instead, he let his body do the talking. Slipping his hands down to cup her ass beneath the skirt, he used this new hold and the flexing of his hips and pelvis to increase both the pace and the force of their strokes.
Her hands lifted to cradle his face, one of her thumbs sliding into his half-opened mouth as she stared into his eyes. “Mulder,” she whispered. “I…” Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip, ducking her head down slightly. At his hum of encouragement, she lifted her head again and said in a rush, “I know it’s dangerous and crazy, but it really turns me on to know… to know that someone could see us at any time.”
“Jesus, Scully.” He exhaled loudly, jerking beneath her. He was thankful he was sitting, for he was fairly certain that if he’d been standing, he’d have fallen to the ground. After a second or two to regroup, he teased, “My little exhibitionist.” She emitted a tiny gasp and her muscles clamped tight on his cock. Oh, she definitely liked that. He considered her revelation further. “Scully…that’s so fucking hot.”
Her eyes glittered. “I know.”
Their pace had unintentionally slowed, and he renewed it with a vengeance. Before long, she began to pant again, her fingers gripping his shoulders. Her movements were losing their grace and he could feel the tension strumming through her entire body. She tossed her head and bit her lower lip as she moaned.
Her fingernails dug into his flesh, an erotic sting. “Now,” she whispered.
He thrust up hard, and she ground herself against him, squeezing her inner muscles and rocking frantically, her lips parting to form an ‘O’ and her eyes fluttering closed. Pleasure coiled in his belly, deep and primal, and he gritted his teeth as he strained to sustain the pressure she needed, the sensations spiraling him ever closer to the edge. She spasmed and stiffened as she came, gasping his name.
With one last jerking thrust, he lost himself completely, his eyes slipping shut and mouth agape.
She collapsed against him and buried her face in his neck. Residual tremors shook her body, which were echoed by the aftershocks still zipping through his body as they descended from their orgasmic high.
He breathed deeply to calm his still-racing heart, and inhaled the mingled scents of sex and limes and Scully. “I think I’m going to get hard every time I smell a lime or see a swizzle stick, Scully.”
Her breathy giggle shook her body, sending vibrations through him, and he groaned at the over-stimulation, shuddering in reaction.
She pressed a kiss to his jaw and then straightened, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were bright with laughter and satisfaction and love, and he knew his eyes mirrored her emotions. After a quick glance over her shoulder she whispered, “I’ll be certifiable with you anywhere, Mulder.”
They began the awkward process of disengaging their bodies. Hastily re-tucked and re-zipped, Mulder passed Scully a handful of cocktail napkins. After a careful rearrangement of her clothing, she headed to the ladies room.
As loose and lazily replete as he felt, he still had enough energy to shift in the booth to watch her walk away. The back view was as amazing as the front. Her alcohol and orgasm-induced wobble was endearingly sexy and he couldn’t help smiling.
“Will there be anything else?”
The amused voice of their waitress startled him from his reverie. He whipped his head around to see her leaning one hip against the edge of their table, regarding him with a smirk. “Ah…no,” he replied. “Just the bill, please.”
She grinned, showing lots of teeth. “Coming right up.”
He decided to leave a generous tip.
***
fini
Category: MSR, Smut
Spoilers: Nothing specific. Set during Season 7
Summary: Tell me it's okay. Tell me it's okay to do this here.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to Adrienne and idella for beta services and hand-holding. Thanks and hugs to starry-eyed466 for the prompt, and the beta/read-over.
Disclaimer: Not mine, wish they were.
***
It was a swizzle stick that did it.
Mulder pondered that thought and revised his opinion. There were actually a combination of factors that contributed to the culmination of events, to the grand finale, but a swizzle stick had ended up being one of the proverbial straws that broke the camel’s back.
When Scully had suggested that they go out for drinks earlier that evening, his surprise was warranted. Their romantic relationship was barely weeks old, and had thus far consisted of a handful of couplings at both their apartments and one frenzied encounter in the storage room down the hall from the office. There had been none of the stereotypical date scenarios - no candlelit dinner at a fancy restaurant, no pizza and a movie. Not that he wasn’t interested in pursuing those activities with her. They were just moving at their own pace. Working out the kinks, so to speak.
He snickered to himself. Kinks, indeed. He had been surprised and delighted to find that Scully had a dirty streak as long and as wide as his own.
Naturally, he had agreed readily to the evening out.
***
The pub was a little hole-in-the-wall place a few blocks from her apartment. He didn’t ask how she knew about it and she didn’t share that information. Dim lighting, great music, a deep half-circle booth in the back corner. Perfect for an intimate tête-à-tête.
And other things, though that hadn’t occurred to either of them at first.
Scully ordered a margarita, while he decided on a beer. He teased her about her girlie drink, she sneered at his boring choice of ale.
Their conversation at first was work-centric. The case they had just completed, Skinner’s grudging acceptance of their field report despite the presence of holes deep enough for a fleet of Bureau cars. Their potential next case. The latest water cooler gossip, who was supposedly doing whom. An amused exchange about how the two of them were still the hottest topic in that department.
His stomach growled a hungry protest and after long moments attempting to flag down their waitress, he was eventually able to procure an order of burgers for them both.
Dinner was surprisingly good, despite the slow service. Said service was something they came to appreciate much later, he remembered with an inward smirk.
Finished with her burger and most of a second margarita, Scully requested a shot of Jose Cuervo. He smiled at her, amused, after the waitress left with the order and the dishes. Arching her eyebrow in reply, she told him that she normally preferred to do body shots with her tequila, but that this would do. For now. She licked her lips after imparting that little tidbit, and the action went straight to his groin.
Mulder fidgeted in his seat and received a knowing grin in response. Not wanting to be outdone, he stared intently at her as he informed her which body part he’d like her to suck on if and when they had a chance to do those body shots. Her cheeks colored, but the look on her face suggested she was filing that information away for later use.
Perhaps she misunderstood their order or perhaps she was psychic, but when the waitress returned she brought with her a new bottle of Jose, a bowl of lime wedges, a salt shaker and two shot glasses. She thumped the items down noisily and with a wink said she would check on them later.
What the hell, he decided.
Grasping the bottle, he neatly poured their shots, right to the brim. Scully’s movements were quick and competent as she licked and salted her hand, and he admired how easily she bolted the shot back. Her eyes, sultry and dark, met his as she sucked on a wedge of lime, and his cock twitched again. After a deep breath, he followed suit with his shot, noticing how her gaze flicked down to his lips when he licked the lime juice off, how she licked her own lips in response.
Scully set up their second shots, and Mulder watched as she downed hers as easily as she had her first, maintaining eye contact throughout. Foregoing his own shot, he continued to stare at her and she tilted her head to the side slightly in reaction. Her pose drew his attention to the curve of her jaw and the elegant line of her throat. Naturally, this led downward to the shadowy entrancement of her cleavage. He realized with a jolt there was a little more revealed than usual, one more button unfastened. It was just enough to make the view much more intriguing. How had he missed this?
Her hand came into view, touching the collar of her shirt, fingers then sliding downward to toy with the next button, and he gulped, sweat beading on his forehead. She chuckled softly and he tore his gaze away to meet her eyes once more. He watched as she used that same hand to raise his left hand clear of the table, bringing it closer to herself. Her head lowered, tilted again, leaving him with a clear view of her mouth. Her moist lips parted, and his next breath was released with an audible groan as her tongue slid out to slowly lick the skin between his index finger and thumb. He felt the contact all the way down to his toes but most acutely in his cock. Burgeoning arousal had him suddenly hyper-aware of her every action.
“Mmmmm,” she said in what could only be described as a purr. One that sent a pleasant little shiver along his spine. Licking her lips, shook salt over the wet path she had created. “Your turn.”
It was a wonder the glass made it to his lips, for he could not take his eyes off of her. He finally had to look away in order to drink, a quick flick of his wrist. The burn was immediate, shooting down his throat and esophagus, briefly setting off a fire in his stomach. He quenched it with a lime, sucking hard to pull the bittersweet flavor into his mouth.
“Good?” she asked, a hint of laughter in her voice. He nodded and watched as she poured the next shots, her hand just slightly unsteady.
Grabbing her other hand, he brought it to his lips. He drew her fingers, wet with lime juice, into his mouth, and licked them clean. He felt her shiver in response, heard her hiss of breath, and quirked the corner of his mouth at her. He followed up by licking her hand with the same slow tease she had employed and then adding the salt. Before she could do anything he licked the salt off her hand and drank his shot. Her eyes narrowed and he smiled around his lime wedge. She pouted.
“You snooze, you lose,” he told her after he had discarded the lime. “But here, let me help you.”
Instead of her hand, he licked his index finger and tapped salt on it. “Lick your lips,” he instructed. She did, swiping her tongue extra slowly. He touched his finger to her bottom lip, intending to deposit the salt, but she tore a page out of his own script and sucked his finger into her mouth, to the middle knuckle. She drew on the finger hard for a moment, her lips pursed with the effort, and then released it with a pop so that she could throw back her tequila.
Despite his shock, he had the presence of mind to scoop up a lime and suck the pulp into his mouth. As she lowered the shot glass, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, his mouth opening and forcing hers open as well. Her hand came up to rest on the back of his head as she sucked his tongue into her mouth, stealing the last traces of lime. He half-rose from the seat, the table edge pushing into his hip, and his hand tunneled through her hair to cup her neck as their tongues dueled. He thrust; she parried.
She began to tremble and then finally pulled away. Sinking back into the padded leather booth, she exhaled a gusty breath of air. One hand fanned her face as the other plucked at her shirt.
He knew how she felt - he was burning up.
“Jesus, Mulder.” She tossed her head back, eyes closed. A flush had spread down to her chest, visible through the parted collar of her shirt, and he could see her nipples poking against the material.
He salivated at the thought of sucking one of those hard little pebbles into his mouth, of trailing his lips down further…Slamming his eyes shut, he dropped his head back to rest on the high edge of the seat. He was still breathing heavily.
The slide of glass against wood had his eyes opening again and he saw that she had brought her nearly empty margarita glass closer to herself. Removing the swizzle stick with one hand, she lifted the glass to her lips with the other and drank the remnants of margarita down, lips pursing briefly in a sexy little frown as she returned the glass to the table.
“Not cold enough,” she sighed, and slid to the edge of the curved booth to peek around. She must have caught the eye of the waitress, for he heard her say, “Pitcher of ice water, please?”
Sliding back, her thigh pressing firmly against his, she met his gaze. “It’s hot,” she said unnecessarily. The swizzle stick was still in her hand and she brought it to her mouth, touching it to her lips before nibbling at it absently.
Mulder nodded agreement, staring unabashedly at her slick lips, at the way she was now sliding the swizzle stick in and out, imagining something else sliding between their pouty softness. That something else throbbed in response behind his pants zipper. He spread his legs in a futile effort to ease some pressure.
“Hydration is important,” she said around the swizzle stick. Her cheeks flushed anew as she realized she had his rapt attention.
“I like you wet, Scully,” he told her, voice low and intimate.
“Oh…God,” was her almost-whimper, the swizzle stick falling from her mouth. Her pupils were dilated from a combination of arousal and alcohol - a heady, dangerous mix. One he himself was experiencing with equal potency.
He couldn’t decide if Scully was relieved or disappointed by the interruption when the waitress appeared with the requested pitcher of water, ice cubes clattering a gentle rhythm. Her head ducked down, cheeks pink. Triple thumps followed as pitcher and glasses were deposited. The waitress poured their water, eyed the table and then each of them in turn, and when they said nothing, left with another wink.
The water in Scully’s glass sloshed from her forceful grab and dripped from her hand as she tipped her head back and drank. Mulder was so fixated on her he had forgotten his own thirst. Returning her empty glass to the table, she leaned into him and gave him a nudge with her elbow. “Drink up,” she told him, clearly both amused and pleased by his attention.
It was apparent she had regained her equilibrium, and he determined to tilt it once more. He drained his water in seconds and reached for the bottle of Jose. “Shot?” he queried, putting a little dare in his voice. He couldn’t explain the impulse; they really should leave and take their little party somewhere private.
She considered for a moment, gaze flicking from his fingers, now stroking the bottle suggestively, to his face, and then nodded, a glint in her eye. Dare accepted.
Glancing around to confirm that they were quite secluded in their corner, he poured them each another shot. “Skip the salt,” he told her, pushing her hand back down to the table. “I have a better idea.”
Twisting a little toward her, he lifted his hand and ran the backs of his fingers across her cheek to slide her hair behind her ear. He danced his fingertips along her jaw and then down her neck. Her pulse jumped against his fingertips and she emitted a soft sigh. Shifting her shirt collar down her shoulder a little, he further bared her neck and collarbone. Leaning in, he exhaled softly on her exposed skin, delighting in her shiver and how she tilted her head to give him better access. His nose brushed her jaw, caressing it briefly before letting his tongue tease at the tendon in her neck. He trailed it down lower and then sucked lightly at her skin for a moment, tasting salt and Scully.
“Mmmm.” He murmured into her neck before he pulled away. Scully swayed to follow him, as if drawn. He turned his head enough to bring the shot glass to his lips and slammed the tequila down. He was already turning back to her as he blindly returned the glass to the table - he swooped his mouth down onto hers, the tequila still wet on his lips and in his mouth. His tongue thrust forcefully and with a little moan, she reciprocated by sucking it with equal force, drinking the tequila from him.
One of her hands dropped to his thigh as she leaned into the kiss, and his thigh muscles flexed automatically. Her fingers tightened and relaxed, and then she began to knead and stroke, fingertips straying ever closer to the crease where thigh met groin, knuckles brushing the bulge of his erection.
The fleeting, intermittent contact sent little bolts of electricity through him. He moaned into her mouth and she pulled back enough to gasp in air before sliding wetly into their kiss again. His left hand dropped to cover hers and he dragged it into position over his cock before trailing his fingers along that same arm and up to her shoulder.
Palming his balls, she squeezed once and then she began to stroke firmly along his shaft. He couldn’t help the tightening of his fingers into the soft flesh of her shoulder, nor the little motions of his hips.
Her lips finally pulled away from his with a sucking sound and he dragged open heavy-lidded eyes to watch as she scanned the immediate area before placing her mouth on his neck, where she nibbled and sucked. He felt her thigh flex and then she was hitching herself up and draping her leg atop his, twisting herself to press her crotch into his leg just below where leg met hip and ass. All the while she kept up the motions on his cock, alternately squeezing and stroking.
“God, Mulder,” she breathed into his ear, sending rockets of shivery pleasure through him. “Someone…someone could see us. We must be…crazy.”
“Certifiable,” he agreed, wishing he could figure out how to get his hand between her legs without dislodging her or disrupting her hand. With no solution for his dilemma, he lowered his free arm and palmed her ass, fingers spread wide. He found himself rhythmically squeezing her pliant flesh.
She was panting now, rubbing herself against his leg, a whimper of frustration escaping at the apparent ineffectiveness of her motions. “God, Mulder,” she repeated, moaning the words. “I don’t think I can wait.” Her teeth nipped his earlobe as her hand ground down harder. “Tell me it’s okay. Tell me it’s okay to do this here.”
Oh, Jesus. His hips bucked up into the exquisite pressure. How could he refuse that request? Neurons were misfiring everywhere. Mulder had a fleeting thought about the picture they must be presenting, and the dangers inherent in their actions, but he rationalized it all away - they had their near-dark, empty corner, the deep seats and high table.
Much later, he’d think about the tacit permission she’d granted him with the words ‘tell me’, and all the implications they could explore. For now, they would willingly tumble down the rabbit hole.
“It’s okay, Scully,” he managed to get out, looking around again. “No one can see, there’s no one around.” She was right; they were crazy. But crazy had never before felt this amazingly fantastic.
Desperate to touch her anywhere, he hiked her skirt up. At the same time, he felt her hand busy with his zipper. As he encountered the silk of her panties and bare skin, he heard the rasp of metal on metal and felt the constriction against his erection abate slightly. His fingers toyed with the hem of her panties; hers nimbly slid inside his pants and sought him out through the gap in his boxers. At that first touch of her hand, he almost bucked them both through the table. “Scully,” he rasped. “That feels so fucking good.”
She eased his cock free of his boxers and pants, and he reacted to the sudden shock of cold air on his over-heated flesh with a shiver. Just as sudden and as shocking, her head ducked down and her mouth engulfed him. He thought he’d felt hot before -now her mouth scalded him with her fire.
“Uhhhhh,” he grunted, unable to contain the sound. His head fell back against the seat but he forced himself to keep his eyes open to watch for any unwanted company.
Her tongue did naughty things. Things that had him gritting his teeth to hold back his moans. Things that made him want to be selfish and let her blow his mind to fragments.
She stopped suddenly, releasing him with a pop that he felt in every square inch of his body and slithered up to take possession of his lips in a deep, hungry kiss. Easing back slightly, she whispered into his open, panting mouth, “I need you to fuck me, Mulder.”
All higher brain function ceased.
His heart started a wild hammering in his chest. He remembered to breathe, and took in an audible gasp of air. While he tried to formulate thought, she straddled his lap, her already hiked-up skirt no hindrance. Instinct had him lifting his hands to grasp her hips - still reeling from her declaration, it was all he could manage.
With sensual practicality, she slipped her panties to the side with one hand while the other took hold of his erection as she positioned herself above him. Amid the scent of limes, he could smell her arousal, still new and yet already familiar to him, and the resulting surge of lust astounded him with its elemental ferocity.
“God, Mulder,” she sighed as she slowly sank down on his length, “what you do to me.”
Human nature made allowances for pride and vanity, thus her breathy admittance was almost as overwhelming as the sensation of her slick heat enveloping his cock inch by inch.
“Scully…” he gasped. He blinked sweat from his eyes and resisted the urge to lift her onto the table and rut like an animal. “You have no idea.” Her inner walls gripped him like a velvet fist and he groaned. His control was hanging by a thread. “You’re killing me here, Scully.”
Her shaky laugh teased his ear as her body teased him with its slow, seductive glide. “Ohhh, Mulder…but what a way to go.”
It was one of those rare moments when he didn’t have a comeback. Instead, he let his body do the talking. Slipping his hands down to cup her ass beneath the skirt, he used this new hold and the flexing of his hips and pelvis to increase both the pace and the force of their strokes.
Her hands lifted to cradle his face, one of her thumbs sliding into his half-opened mouth as she stared into his eyes. “Mulder,” she whispered. “I…” Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip, ducking her head down slightly. At his hum of encouragement, she lifted her head again and said in a rush, “I know it’s dangerous and crazy, but it really turns me on to know… to know that someone could see us at any time.”
“Jesus, Scully.” He exhaled loudly, jerking beneath her. He was thankful he was sitting, for he was fairly certain that if he’d been standing, he’d have fallen to the ground. After a second or two to regroup, he teased, “My little exhibitionist.” She emitted a tiny gasp and her muscles clamped tight on his cock. Oh, she definitely liked that. He considered her revelation further. “Scully…that’s so fucking hot.”
Her eyes glittered. “I know.”
Their pace had unintentionally slowed, and he renewed it with a vengeance. Before long, she began to pant again, her fingers gripping his shoulders. Her movements were losing their grace and he could feel the tension strumming through her entire body. She tossed her head and bit her lower lip as she moaned.
Her fingernails dug into his flesh, an erotic sting. “Now,” she whispered.
He thrust up hard, and she ground herself against him, squeezing her inner muscles and rocking frantically, her lips parting to form an ‘O’ and her eyes fluttering closed. Pleasure coiled in his belly, deep and primal, and he gritted his teeth as he strained to sustain the pressure she needed, the sensations spiraling him ever closer to the edge. She spasmed and stiffened as she came, gasping his name.
With one last jerking thrust, he lost himself completely, his eyes slipping shut and mouth agape.
She collapsed against him and buried her face in his neck. Residual tremors shook her body, which were echoed by the aftershocks still zipping through his body as they descended from their orgasmic high.
He breathed deeply to calm his still-racing heart, and inhaled the mingled scents of sex and limes and Scully. “I think I’m going to get hard every time I smell a lime or see a swizzle stick, Scully.”
Her breathy giggle shook her body, sending vibrations through him, and he groaned at the over-stimulation, shuddering in reaction.
She pressed a kiss to his jaw and then straightened, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were bright with laughter and satisfaction and love, and he knew his eyes mirrored her emotions. After a quick glance over her shoulder she whispered, “I’ll be certifiable with you anywhere, Mulder.”
They began the awkward process of disengaging their bodies. Hastily re-tucked and re-zipped, Mulder passed Scully a handful of cocktail napkins. After a careful rearrangement of her clothing, she headed to the ladies room.
As loose and lazily replete as he felt, he still had enough energy to shift in the booth to watch her walk away. The back view was as amazing as the front. Her alcohol and orgasm-induced wobble was endearingly sexy and he couldn’t help smiling.
“Will there be anything else?”
The amused voice of their waitress startled him from his reverie. He whipped his head around to see her leaning one hip against the edge of their table, regarding him with a smirk. “Ah…no,” he replied. “Just the bill, please.”
She grinned, showing lots of teeth. “Coming right up.”
He decided to leave a generous tip.
***
fini