Recovery

Recovery
By AnitaB
Chapter two: The reassurance of touch

This whole thing was a terrible idea. But the need on Peter’s face had made it impossible to say no. Olivia had been left fighting to control every rebellious nerve in her body at the hot, tender stroke of his fingers over her skin. He hated himself for each little mark on her skin. Peter would certainly interpret shivering right now as a sign of fear. And Olivia wasn’t afraid of him, she was never afraid of Peter.

But it was so hard to stand still and unaffected under the heat of his hands, the grip of his arms, the press of his face to her hungry skin. //Oh, god, Peter, what are you doing to me?\ It was his words, not his touch that made it impossible to stand still anymore. With his face buried in the line of her back and his hands clinging to hers, Peter sounded like he was about to cry.

The way he jumped to let her go scared her. Not because she was afraid of him, but because he reacted like she should be, like he believed he was dangerous to her. //Peter, please, trust us.\ “Peter,” She had to touch him, hold him, hug that pained look off his face. Her body moved on his own to drag him into her arms and hold him tight. The soft murmur of her name on his lips only tightened her grip. “I’m here, Peter. I want you to listen to me, okay?” She helplessly found herself holding him closer, her fingers sliding into his hair. His breath pulsed hot and ragged against her throat, scaring her a little more even when he nodded a yes against her skin. “Good. You would never hurt me, I know that. I know it. You weren’t yourself and you have nothing to feel sorry for.” Olivia wanted, needed him to believe her. She was desperate for his smile and the return of his easy self-confidence. //Please, Peter, I need you.\

He went still in her arms. That was his ‘deep in thought’ posture, just a little more huddled than usual. “But you were.” His breathing was far steadier as his hands moved to her hair and his eyes locked to her face. Her breathing got easier at the sight of his face wearing even a little less fear and guilt. //That’s it, Peter, come back to me.\ He had to come back, she needed him. “You were yourself, Livia. Why didn’t you shoot me? Why didn’t you even put your finger on the trigger? You knew better than that. You should have shot me.”

Her heart stopped in her ribs as every nerve in her body screamed a protest. Never, Olivia could never deliberately hurt Peter, not ever, not for any reason. Her teeth sank into her lip and she could hear the denial and need in her voice. “I went back into that building to save you, Peter. Not kill you. I… I couldn’t…”

Something shifted in his eyes, some new heat growing in his face. Olivia knew something was coming when he actually pronounced all the letters in her name clearly, and in a low soft sound no less. Somehow she was still surprised when those strong hands gently cupped her face and pulled her into a sweet and simple kiss. Peter, Peter Bishop was kissing her like she was about to disappear, like he needed her as much as she needed him.

Olivia melted, every nerve in her body joyously warming itself in the soft heat of his kiss. It was almost what she needed. But it wasn’t enough. She found her hands in his hair, angling and deepening this touch of lips to get his taste on her tongue. His low groan set those nerves trembling before his hands moved. Strong arms gathered against his heaving chest, lifted her into his lap. Her body knew exactly what to do next, help his get her closer to the source of all that sweet warmth. Before her brain caught up, together they’d gotten her knees on either side of his hips, her chest flush against his, and her tongue avidly exploring the inside of his mouth.

His hands slid warm and strong just under the edge of her shirt to drag heat up her back. But this time she was free to let herself react with the trembling heat he caused. He was beyond smart enough to feel that she wasn’t at all afraid of him like this. On its own, her body arched into the warmth of those palms, her hands clenching on the strength of his shoulders. “Pe—Peter, please.”

“Tell me, Livia. Anything you want. Say it and it’s yours.” The heat in his eyes sent a matching warmth rushing through her blood. Peter was in her arms, he was holding her close and he wanted this as much as she did. Olivia believed in every pleading cell of her body that he would give her anything she wanted, even if that meant stopping. //No, no stopping. Not yet.\ She wanted more of this, of him, more heat, more touch. Skin. Olivia needed to touch him, to feel his skin hot and smooth under her hands. To explore him as she’d already let him explore her.

“I want…” She licked her lips and sent her hands into the trapped warmth under his leather jacket. Even with his shirt still in the way, she loved the heat and movement of his chest under her hands. “I want you, Peter. I want to touch you, please. Lose the jacket.”

She groaned low in her throat at the sudden chill when his hands left her skin. But her hands knew the plan, helping his shove the leather coat off his body and over the back of the couch. The second he could, Peter got his hands back to her skin, cupping her face in gentle fingers. “Please, Livi, touch me.”

“Peter,” Those lips called to hers, pulling her close enough to taste the last of his words on the tip of her tongue. Then there was no more talking. Lost in the skilled and intricate dance of their tongues, Olivia sent her hungry fingertips under his shirt with a groan. Hot, smooth skin and hard, strong muscles shifted under her hands, shaking with the vibration of his groan trapped in his chest. He was perfect, a strong warm haven that she never wanted to leave.

But he wasn’t close enough. Her hands slipped around to run up his back and her body buried itself closer to his chest. “Hmm, Livi, more.” Peter leaned in, his hands peeling his shirt off over his head before their owner locked hot eyes to her face. “Please,” He didn’t manage all the words, but the way his fingers fisted in the hem of her sweatshirt made the low groan perfectly clear.

Her voice wouldn’t work, but her hands would. Forcing her suddenly chilled fingers to her ribs, Olivia fisted them in her sweatshirt and dragged it up. Warm, strong hands found her skin, helped guide both layers of cloth up her body and along her arms to clear her fingertips and hit the floor somewhere behind her. Sitting half naked in his lap, she was breathless at the instant heat and adoration in his eyes. No one before him had ever made her feel so beautiful with just a wordless sound and a heated look.

“Peter,” The next moment he buried her in heat. Mind-whirling, bone-melting, soul-stealing heat. Olivia found herself wrapped in the gorgeous heat of Peter’s skin against so much of her own. Strong arms pinned her to his ribs, warm hands spread wide against her back, the slightly scruffy edge of his jaw scratched at her shoulder as he buried his face against her throat. He was so warm that for this moment in time, Olivia felt like she would never be cold again. She was trembling, trying desperately to get just a little closer to his heat. Her hands were obsessed with the smooth hot strength of his back and shoulders.

“I’ve got you, Livia.” He opened his mouth against the pulse in her throat, making her breath catch with the hot stroke of his tongue over her skin. “I need you. My sweet Livi, so soft and so warm.” Those warm lips trailed a line of heat down her throat to pause at her collarbone, like he needed permission.

Clenching her hands on his shoulders, Olivia managed the sound of his name and arched into his arms. “Please.” Peter smiled, braced his hands wide against her back, and pulled her closer. She had the time for one shaky breath before those lips set about stopping her breathing with a slow, sweet line of kisses down her ribs to bury his face against her heart. Her arms trembled as they tightened. She rested a cheek against the top of his head and let him hug her tighter, strong body trembling a little in her arms. “I’m here, Peter. I’ve got you.”

He pressed a kiss right over her heart before raising his head to meet her eyes, resting his hands on the last inch of bare skin above the edge of her pants. “If… If you want to stop, Olivia, I need you to tell me now.”

They should stop. All the rules of reality said that this was a bad idea. She knew that relationships between co-workers were usually car wrecks in the making. But the idea of stopping… letting Peter back out of her arms, watching him put back on his clothes and disappear out into the night… of feeling that cold reinvade her skin an inch at a time…

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t let him go. Not yet, maybe not ever. She’d never feel this warm and safe with anyone else. Weakly opening her arms, Olivia cupped that precious face in her hands met his hesitant eyes with a decision in her own. “Come to bed, Peter. I still need to hold you and I need you to hold me.” The smile that curved his lips made her breath catch. It caught again when he braced his arms under her hips and cradled her against his chest as he got to his feet.

Olivia found herself clutching at his back and laughing as he carried her to bed.

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