Silver on Black

Disclaimer: I don't own the legal rights to any of these characters or the series featured here, and I acknowledge the legal rights of those who do. I will make no profits from this story.

Note: If you know me personally, you may want to bear in mind that I write these stories as a private hobby. I'm not embarassed by anything I write, but if you think you might be, please turn around now.

***

I trotted down the corridor, clutching the piece of paper with the directions on in front of me and looking busy in the hope that no-one would bother me. I really, really hoped I’d translated this properly… then I rounded the corner into the quiet corridor and saw the bathroom in question in front of me. Luckily, there was no-one else around.

I sneaked a quick glance over my shoulder out of the corner of my eye. He wasn’t there, but I’d seen him getting up from his chair… he had to be behind me somewhere. Well, he’d damn well better be or I was going to throttle him when I got back to the conference. I checked the time. We had less than twenty minutes. Luckily, Tim had decided that the break scheduled should be a little longer than in the agenda to allow the missing speaker time to get to One Police Plaza and set up for his talk. I ducked into the bathroom and pulled the door shut behind me, hoping very hard indeed that Bobby was right and no-one used this bathroom other than himself and the janitor. Otherwise I might be about to explode from frustration.

The thought did cross my mind that he’d obviously used it for this purpose before. I tried being jealous on for size, but found I didn’t particularly care. I knew I wasn’t getting a 41-year-old virgin (hell no, he was one of the most experienced men I’d ever met), and if anything, I found my response was more one of triumph. So what if other women had enjoyed themselves with him here before? He was about to be exclusively mine for the next twenty minutes, and hopefully for the next four days after that. If anything, it rather enhanced his attraction. He could have pretty much any woman he liked the look of, but he’d chosen to be with me. He’d invited me to New York…

I couldn’t suppress a huge smile at the thought. I was a little nervous at the thought of staying with a man I really didn’t know that much about… but reminded myself; stop worrying, go with your feelings, and whatever happens will be for the best. So long as that included him inside me, in the VERY near future. What the hell was keeping him?

Hastily, I checked my appearance in the mirror. Hair groomed? Check. Lipstick on straight? Actually, better remove my lipstick. I cleaned it off hastily and checked my appearance again. A slightly nervous red-haired woman with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, clad in a silver-grey suit and unfamiliar heels, looked back at me. I tried on a seductive smile. If I say so myself, it suited me.

Well, if you are about to have sex with someone you last saw in person one month ago, who you just seduced by making an indecent proposition in written German involving the words “stockings not pantyhose”, acting the femme fatale is pretty much the only appropriate position to take, as it were. We’d spoken on the phone several times since… actually, “spoken” is one word for it. Bobby had an imagination that left me standing, and that New York accent could be very sexy indeed when it dropped down to a low, confident purr, murmuring exactly what he’d like to be doing with me, to me…

Suddenly, the door handle turned, and my heart jumped. I turned to face the door as his familiar tall figure, clad now in a smart black suit and tie (no grubby army fatigues this time) ducked through it, locking it smoothly behind him. He paused by the door for a while, smiling that very familiar smile that made my heart do little jumps. We’d been sitting next to each other, swapping notes, for the past hour or so, but that had been strictly hands-off, no touching. Sitting there, breathing in his familiar scent, eyeing up that big, powerful frame, remembering the last time I’d seen him naked, on top of me, eyes closed, head thrown back, moaning with satisfaction… I felt myself heating up at the memory, and he must have sensed that.

Now, I was about to have those big hands all over me, although right now it was his eyes that were roaming over me, deliberately sizing me up, lingering on my legs and breasts. I returned the compliment, letting my eyes roam over him, taking in his broad shoulders, powerful upper body and long legs, lingering just for a few seconds at his groin (looked like I wasn’t the only one being affected by memories), then finally moving up to his face, dark curly hair neatly cropped, familiar snub nose, five o’clock shadow, sleepy eyes, and wonderful, wonderful, welcoming smile. I responded instinctively, stepping forwards and wrapping my arms around his neck. The heels I was wearing shortened the height difference between us to being manageable; my lips finally met his in a long, hungry kiss. I was moaning softly, deep in my throat… we both were, he was pulling me closer, pressing me against him. He’d obviously been missing me too, and I shut my eyes, giving in completely to the kiss.

Those strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me close up against him. One hand tangled in my hair, holding my head still as we kissed, his warm tongue gently but firmly pushing its way into my mouth. I responded eagerly, lapping gently at his tongue, welcoming him back into me. A long month of imagining, remembering, making do with memories of that wonderful warm body against mind ended there and then, and I was so aroused I forgot any lingering shyness on the spot, rubbing eagerly against his other hand, which was cupping my backside and pushing me against him, pressing my hips against his.

I stretched up against him, rubbing my breasts against him deliberately and breaking off the kiss to find that sensitive spot just under his jaw. If memory served correctly, a few gentle kisses there, a few soft licks, reminding him just how much he liked having my lips on him, and he’d be purring like a big cat… mmm yes, memory served very nicely. I kissed my way slowly up to his ear, nibbling on it gently and purring softly myself as he rubbed against me, slowly, deliberately, hand ever-so-slowly sliding under my skirt, finding the areas of bare skin just above my stockings and stroking upwards, very slowly upwards…

I murmured into his ear, “Missed you.” I had. I’d gone to bed every night for the past four weeks wishing he’d been there, remembering our one night together in the borrowed Army accommodation. The sheer joy of having a male body next to me, and, even better, knowing its owner didn’t think me strange or clingy for wanting to revel in the sheer joy of skin on skin, snuggling together, stroking, kissing, cuddling, so that our coupling had happened naturally, flowing smoothly together, not just him deciding that we’d done enough foreplay and it was time for the main event… firmly, I banished that memory and the man involved for good, and pressed myself against Bobby more firmly.

He very gently disengaged slightly and made eye contact. “Missed you too. Been thinking about you… wondering if you’d come to New York, wondering if you’d think it wasn’t such a good idea.” Was he telling the truth, or just trying to play down the experience gap? I realised there and then, if this was going to work, I’d need to come to terms with the age difference between us pretty damn fast. Part of it was that he was at the top of his profession, and I was in many ways just beginning to climb that ladder. He’d seen things I couldn’t imagine, although undoubtedly if I moved out of translating and into the planning and co-ordinating side of intelligence work – “real” intelligence work – I was probably going to be seeing that kind of thing firsthand. But then, he owed his life to my quick thinking, as he’d reminded me once over the phone.

That was another thing I’d need to get used to. The rumours about him being able to read minds really were true. Then again, he probably wasn’t needing that right now; there’s only one way to read someone unbuttoning your jacket and tugging at your shirt, and that’s that they’re thinking “I am yours, please take me right here and now.”

I looked him firmly in the eye, loving the way I could do that and get pure warm interest in what I was thinking, no judgement, no insecurity. “After that last phone conversation we had?” I raised an eyebrow, and got a delighted chuckle in return. “Anyway, this is a big opportunity for me. I get to advance my career AND sleep with this gorgeous New York detective I met mmmph ” …he kissed me again, hands relieving my of my jacket, which joined his jacket and tie on the corner of the bathroom stall. His hands began to deftly unbutton my blouse, then he stopped, put both hands around my waist and lifted me up onto the edge of the sinks behind us, where there was just enough space to perch in reasonable comfort whilst lifting me up to exactly the right height for him to kiss me all over... Show-off. He just loved showing off how strong he was compared to me, and damned if it wasn’t sexy.

“So… you missed me, huh?” he murmured into my ear. Oh boy, I knew that voice. That was Bobby’s “I am about to do something to you that will have you screaming with delight, but first I’m just going to savour making you think about it first” voice.

I responded with a heartfelt groan. “Hell yes, I missed you. Went to bed every night wishing you were there.”

His hands finished unbuttoning my blouse, and I loved the way he paused to admire my breasts before starting to kiss me. When I’d first had this idea under the influence of slightly too much vodka with my friend Elena back in the Ukraine, she’d decided for me that if I was going to pull the “sexy secretary seducing the boss” scenario (or at least a variation on it), I should be properly equipped. We’d spent a very giggly afternoon shopping for suitable clothes. I had quite a bit to spend; Interpol pays quite well plus I don’t spend much, largely thanks to Elena, who seems to be able to get us in for free whenever we go out anywhere, probably due to the fact that her father is the local Chief of Police. Pretty much everything apart from my suit was new. I’d gone for a matching silver-and-white silk push-up bra and tie-side panties set, plus the stockings, and if I say so myself, the effect was pretty damn good.

“Have you lost weight?” Oh, Bobby. That line will get you laid, although it was the truth, I had lost weight in the interests of fitting the suit properly. The sacrifices we make… but this was worth it.

“Mmm… yes, I have. Let’s just say I’ve had an appetite for something other than food lately.”

He bent closer, and I could scent him now through the thin cotton of his shirt, warm, aroused male. I reached a hand down to his groin… oh my, it was a good thing I was as turned on as I was, it felt like my little ‘estimate’ hadn’t been that far off the mark. I began to undo his belt, then had to stop as those lips started to nibble my ear, hands exploring my body, stroking agonisingly close to my breasts, but not quite touching… “So I hear… every night, huh? Girl with a big appetite…” he began to drop his mouth towards my breasts, my nipples showing through the thin silk…

“I’m sure you can satisfy it ahhh …” his mouth closed over my nipple, sucking at it through the silk, a new sensation and very, very welcome. His hands tugged at my skirt, pulling it up to my waist. I’d been slowly unbuttoning his shirt, but had to stop as he dropped further down, kissing down my belly, then wrapping his arms around my waist to hold me in place as his mouth pressed hard against the thin silk of my panties, licking me through them, warm and slick and finding the perfect rhythm, he remembered exactly how I liked it, and I was crying out very softly as he untied the panties, then very, very gently pulled them to one side, slid a finger inside me and stroked. I arched my back, head back, then looked down as he paused for just a minute, dark eyes sparkling wickedly.

“Your turn,” I said suddenly, and slithered off the sink and onto my knees before he could object. I reached for his belt, and revelled in his gasp as he realised what I was intending to do. I very gently, very slowly undid his belt, pulling down his pants and briefs and stifling a moan at the sight of him, fully aroused, erect and ready and aching for me. If there is a more delightful sight than the man you’re in lust with a full erection against the soft skin of his belly, I have no idea what it is and frankly I doubt it. I closed my fingers around him, forming a seal with my lips over him and sucking slowly, gently, tongue lapping over his warm velvety flesh, incredibly aroused by the soft cries he was making, big hands tangled in my hair. Who’s got the power now, mmm? Remember how much you like this, Bobby?

I looked up to see that handsome face thrown back, flushed with arousal, eyes closed… I felt a sudden surge of overwhelming emotion, too powerful to put a name to, and stood up, stepping out of my skirt and panties as I did so. (Lesson from Elena: “You will look much more sexy if he sees you in the full set without your skirt up round your waist. Trust me”. I was buying that girl dinner when I got back home.) The wild look in his dark eyes… without speaking, Bobby pulled off my blouse and caught me round the waist and, firmly but tenderly, turned me round and guided me up onto a small raised part of the floor, facing the mirror, so that I was at the right height with my back turned to him. I spread my legs just a little, and gasped to see myself in the mirror with him behind me. Naked male with his white shirt framing that wonderful body, dark chest hair just visible in what little I could see of him, head resting on my shoulder…

I watched in the mirror, fascinated, as he entered me, stretching me around him. He’d taken care of protection whilst I was getting out of my skirt and panties, and he slid in very slowly, our moans filling the air, in sheer mutual pleasure as he began to thrust, one hand on the front of my hips to prevent me bruising myself against the sink, the other roaming up and down, cupping my breasts and playing with them, rubbing first one aching nipple, then the next. I leaned forward, bracing myself against the wall as he thrust harder… I was helpless with my hands against the wall. He could do whatever he liked and was revelling in it, teasing me, murmuring wicked thoughts into my ear, everything he’d like to do to me when we got back to his apartment that evening.

I thrust back against him, having to stifle my screams of pleasure as he thrust harder, I could feel him coming, and watched, hypnotised, barely recognising the woman in the mirror, body displayed to perfection by silk and lace, arching back against her mate, completely sexual, taking him, making him hers as his muscles tensed, belly tightening against my back, growing harder inside me until his teeth nipped my shoulder, muffling his cries of pleasure as I squeezed tight around him in rhythm with his final thrusts. I was going to have another bruise there, I thought dreamily as he collapsed against me, his sweat against my back, head resting against my shoulder, lips kissing the side of my neck. We stayed like that for a short while, his heart hammering against him, breathing heavily, sighing, then he lifted his mouth to my ear.

“Something tells me you didn’t enjoy that quite as much as I did,” he murmured.

“I’m not so worried about that right now,” I replied, and I wasn’t. Orgasm I could provide for myself if I had to. What I could not provide was what I’d just had, warm, strong male body against mine, taking me with affection and delight and incredible sensuality.

“No? I am. I’m not having you sitting there all through the conference, looking at me with those big plaintive green eyes, all unsatisfied, thinking Bitte detektiv, bilden mir Liebe auf diesem Konferenztische *.”

“Well, that would certainly liven things up,” I countered, then stopped as he gently turned me round to face him and dropped his mouth to my breast, two fingers sliding into me, his other hand rubbing across my clitoris in exactly the right rhythm. I relaxed and gave myself up to it, he was right, if you worried less about getting there and enjoyed the journey then, paradoxically, you got there much quicker, much much quicker, damn it that was good, Bobby, don’t you even THINK of stopping, yes, yes, yes… my back arched as those insistent, skilful fingers brought me right up to the brink, then gently pushed me over, helpless to resist, orgasm being drawn out of me with affection and skill and wonderful, wonderful hands.

It was my turn to collapse against him as my body throbbed, shuddering with the pleasure. I wrapped both arms around him and we stayed like for several minutes, knowing we should go, but neither really wanting to break the connection. Eventually, I looked at my watch and realised that we had to go NOW, and we reluctantly began to clean up and get dressed. I groomed my hair and replaced my lipstick, checking my appearance. I’d probably better remove the smug, cat-with-cream smile, but apart from that I looked fine.

“Time to go,” I remarked, then stopped. Bobby had unlocked the door, but there were voices outside. Voices that weren’t going away.

Okay. How to get out of this one?

***

* “Please, detective, make love to me on this conference table.”

Author's Note: I always thought it would be interesting to write a love scene from the point of view of both participants, so the next chapter will be the same encounter from Bobby's point of view.