Her Choice

Author’s Note: Just to place this in order; it takes place shortly after “Perfect End to an Awful Day”, but before “Perfect Day”. Bobby and Sienna are living together (before she left for London), and Eames is still seeing Steven Vallis.

BTW I haven't forgotten about the leather bikini I mentioned earlier, but it turns out that needs a fic to itself, as I want to use another character and she needs to be properly introduced...

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Law & Order: Criminal Intent, and I acknowledge the legal rights of those who do. I will make no profit from this story.

Also, 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, turn around now.

***

“Ah jeez, Bobby, I’m dying on my feet.”

Eames stretched in front of him, then yawned hugely. She looked so weary he almost wished he could pick her up, carry her to bed and tuck her in. However, since they were still in One Police Plaza and surrounded by everyone else on the Major Case Squad, that would have caused some comment. Not to mention the fact that Eames’ bed was most likely occupied at this moment in time by her boyfriend, Steven Vallis, who would not be thrilled to be awoken after a long flight from London by two very tired detectives. Well, not by Goren, at any rate.

“Long day, huh?” He smiled and rubbed his eyes, then winced as his back creaked with the movement. They had been standing around all day running surveillance, then had had to spend two hours back at One Police Plaza finishing off the paperwork from an earlier case.

“No shit, Sherlock.” She grinned at him, then yawned again. “That’s it. I am outta here. Alex Eames has left the building.”

He briefly considered staying on longer to finish up the paperwork, but the thought of doing so without Eames around to lighten things up was too depressing even to contemplate. “Wait for me, I’ll get my coat and walk down to the subway with you.”

***

An hour later, his key was turning in the lock of his apartment. Our apartment, he corrected himself. It was no longer exclusively his, as the elegant pair of heels he nearly crushed underfoot trying to reach the light switch indicated. Like Eames, he too had someone in his life, the first woman he’d ever lived with. Sienna Tovitz. Unlike Eames, his romantic partner was not currently warming his bed with a welcoming smile, but out at a “girls’ night out” with some friends, to which he was definitely NOT invited. He allowed himself a minute’s self-pity at the thought that right now Eames was quite possibly having her second orgasm of the night (her commute home was shorter than his), whilst he was alone in his apartment, his love having thoughtlessly abandoned him for a night out on the tiles… Yeah, because an evening of leftovers from the fridge followed by 240-plus pounds of exhausted detective humping away on top of her would be more fun for her, he thought sardonically. Let’s face it, that’s all I’m fit for right now.

He smiled to himself, his self-pity suddenly seeming amusing. Sienna would be back in the early hours of the morning, in time to get a few hours’ sleep and be pathetically grateful for his bringing her breakfast in bed, so that she didn’t have to get up if she was feeling fragile. He smiled a warmer smile at the happy memory of the form that gratitude often took. Damn, I am lucky. Lucky, lucky, lucky. What a delicious memory it was, Sienna’s warm, moist, tongue, gently licking him aroused whilst he lay back among the sheets, admiring those soft curves, reaching out to tweak a soft, warm breast and enjoy her wriggle of arousal as she lay between his legs, sweet female musk filling the air, her mouth ministering to his erection…

Oh yeah, THAT. Damn.

He glanced down at his crotch, confirming with a glance what he could already feel in the sudden tightness at his groin. Good going, Bobby. Get yourself all horny the one night your girlfriend isn’t coming home. Sienna wouldn’t be back for hours yet, and when she was, all she would probably be capable of was falling into bed and falling asleep in an exhausted, drunken heap. He was going to have to find some other way of relieving himself… Getting out of these pants, to start with.

***

Ten minutes later, he was out of his suit pants and into an old pair of sweat pants, looser and more comfortable. Despite his best efforts to think about something else, his erection was still pushing at the front of his pants, and he was beginning to accept the inevitable. No Sienna, no chance of it going away… The hell with it. He switched on his lap top and logged on. Sienna did not have the password for this computer, for which he was extremely grateful. It wasn’t like he made a habit of this, but sometimes, well… she wasn’t there, and he was horny, like now, and the Internet practically existed to solve this kind of problem. (Although he sometimes wondered what he’d find if he trawled Sienna’s computer’s Internet history - he was pretty sure he could guess her password - but feared it might be something like YoungStudsRUs.com, and thus had left well alone.)

Had to be careful, though. Nothing that could come back to haunt him, no gonzo porn or anything too hardcore. Luckily, he knew of a site existing to cater just for this sort of thing, Private View, a treasure trove of new and classic “erotic images”, including some classic soft porn from the seventies and eighties . One of these days, he thought, he would pluck up the courage to suggest to Sienna that they watch some together. He thought the Seventies-style soft porn would appeal to her evil sense of humour; all those horny secretaries, just gagging for the arrival of the hot young copier repair man (and his giant tool), spending all their time sprawled over the boss’s desk, panting for him to discipline them….

Tonight, though, he was after the basics and clicked straight onto the modern section of the site, just your straightforward naked woman pictures… women, he corrected himself, as images of two women playfully rubbing foam on each other’s breasts in a Jacuzzi appeared. Part of his mind was distantly amused (such a cliché, the soft-porn lesbians awaiting the arrival of a penis to truly satisfy them), but most of it was engaged with admiring the way the water ran off their bodies, those bodies, those soft, warm bodies, emerging gracefully from the water, small breasts firm and pointed. He could see now that one was a natural blonde, her tiny strip of pubic hair almost invisible against her tanned skin as her dark-skinned companion’s elegant fingers gently parted the curls…

Alas, he would never know what she had been planning to do with the suggestively-shaped bar of soap she had been holding, since at that point his exhaustion took over and he fell fast asleep, snoring on the couch with the laptop balanced on his midriff and his hand buried between his legs.

***

“And as you can see, by employing more female staff, we have been able to gather better and more detailed information. The best results come from using trained workers from the ethnic backgrounds of the women being trafficked…”

He was suddenly, magically aware that he was sitting in a conference room, wearing his best black suit. Around him, twenty other men sat rapt around the table, hanging on the words of the woman in front of them…

He knew this place; it was the conference suite at One Police Plaza, and the time was six months ago, that inter-agency conference on trafficking that had provided Sienna with her plane ticket to New York to come and see him for the first time since the surveillance operation where they’d first met.

Sienna!

She was standing before him. Before all of them, giving her speech on the need for more “soft” intelligence work. Wearing that suit. That suit and those heels, and underneath it all… oh god… those stockings. Every man at the table sensed the presence of those stockings. And that bra, that elegant silver and white silk bra that pushed up those magnificent breasts until they could just be seen at the neck of her white blouse, two soft, luscious mounds. Her jacket was open, framing her magnificent curves, and he could see two tiny bumps where her nipples pushed out the thin silk and cotton. As she turned and stalked across to the computer to turn off the projector and address them directly, her ass was on full display, soft and rounded under the silvery fabric of her skirt. She bent slightly to turn it off, and all he could think about was Sienna bent over that sink in the bathroom, no skirt, no panties, just stockings and bra and heels, her pert ass pointed directly at him, just like now…

Not just like now. Before, there had been only the two of them, in a locked bathroom. Now there were other men present. Other men, ogling her as she displayed herself in front of them, magnificent in her disdain, her cool professionalism… but her eyes kept darting across to him, subtle, but obvious to a trained observer. She wanted him. Out of all the men in the room, she wanted to fuck him.

He looked around disdainfully at the other men present. Cops like himself… No, not like me. No other man was Sienna’s choice. Fuck them all, them and their judgements. So what if he was the weird guy? So what if everywhere he went, he left behind a reputation as the odd detective, the one no-one wanted to work with. He knew the rumours. He was crazy, he’d nearly been fired three times, Eames only stayed with him because they were fucking in secret, never mind the fact that they had always dated other people…

The hell with them all. He and Eames had the highest solve rate of any detectives in Major Case, but suddenly he felt a fierce urge to prove himself superior to all of them. He was already getting hard just watching Sienna pace across the room, her ripe, delicious curves fully displayed in that suit. It was all he could do to resist the urge to stand up, unzip his fly and take her there and then whilst she was bent over that projector.

Suddenly, he became aware of someone standing behind him, and turned round to see Sienna there. Her red hair nearly brushed his face as she bent down, giving him a perfect view of her breasts almost down to those tiny red nipples, erect and hard under the barely-there silk.

“Detective Goren, would you come to the front, please?” She was icy, unsmiling, and her voice was more strongly accented than usual. Sienna’s Russian accent always became a little stronger during sex, and he loved it, there was something so sexy about those musical tones.

Without waiting for his reply, she turned her back on him, heels tapping on the floor as she stalked back to the front of the room. He could sense that a lot of the men there were like him, struggling to contain their reaction to her, trying unsuccessfully to resist the urge to slip their hands under the table, undoing their flies and reaching it to try to get some surreptitious relief. He was having to walk very carefully, it was almost painful to walk with his erection as sensitive as it was now, even the feel of the soft cotton of his boxers against it was like a form of erotic torture.

He could almost feel the jealousy coming from the other men around the table, but none of them dared say a word against Sienna’s choice.

Sienna gestured brusquely that he should sit on a chair at the front of the room (where had it come from? It had appeared from nowhere) and then stood behind him to finish her speech, leaning over the chair slightly so that he could scent her perfume. Her voice remained professional, but her hand… her left hand trailed down the front of his suit, and to the growing bulge just below his belt buckle. She briefly paused to hiss into his ear: “Stay there and don’t move, or you’ll regret it”, then continued to wrap up her speech, as her hand caressed him through the fabric, responding to each twitch of his erection, its swelling size, the heat coming through the fabric, his fast breathing, with harder and harder strokes against his firm cock. There was no way he would ever be able to walk back to his chair like this, and he was having to try desperately hard to resist begging her to PLEASE free him, the constraint of the taut cloth against his fully-hard erection was unbearable…

Suddenly, her hand stopped completely. He turned his head and saw that she was undoing her blouse, giving him a tantalising glimpse of the full globes of her breasts in their silk wrapping. I want that off, he thought fiercely. Dammit, after what she had just done to him, he wanted to strip her completely naked in front of all of them.

She was addressing the room now, and suddenly her voice was warm and sweet, the voice of his lover. “And that concludes my presentation on the importance of soft intelligence to a modern police force. Of course-” and here she paused to finish undoing her blouse and slip it off “-not everything should be soft.”

She turned to face him, her face hungry, but also sweet, welcoming, even a little submissive. That was his Sienna, and she was his Sienna. No-one else’s, and they would all see that in just a minute. Sienna did not resist as he reached up and roughly pulled off the suit jacket and blouse. She obligingly bent down so that he could reach behind and undo her bra, then up to grip her shoulders and push her forwards so that he could run his tongue across her nipples. She leaned gracefully forwards and murmured: “I just wanted to be sure you were ready for me, love. In fact-” and she pulled away from his grip and dropped to her knees “- I think I’ll make extra sure.”

This is a wet dream come true, he thought helplessly, as she undid his belt buckle and fly, pausing just briefly to run her hand over the taut tent of his erection under his pants and draw a helpless groan from him. Oblivious to their audience, she licked him up and down, pausing to suck gently at his balls, then at the head of his cock, which was now so hard he felt like he would come any second; he had never felt this aroused, ever. Her red hair brushed his thighs, and he saw in triumph that all the other men were staring at him, at them, at his triumph.

Suddenly, he took hold of her shoulders, gently tipping her head back so that their eyes met. She looked almost nervous, but very, very aroused. He reached down to gently tease one nipple with the tip of his finger, and was rewarded with a soft cry of pleasure. He reached around her waist to the fastening of her skirt, and undid it, pulling the skirt down with one firm yank, and revealing…

…that she was wearing no panties at all. Well, of course not.

He rose to his feet, aware only of Sienna, of her beautiful female body in front of him, ready and wet, as all his senses informed him. Her wrists were small, almost dainty, and he held them carefully as he gently nudged her back onto the table, onto her back, his erection seeking the small, tight, wet opening between her legs… YES! He cried out as he took her there and then in front of the other men, sliding into the deep warmth of her body, her breasts bouncing slightly as he pumped harder and harder, gripping her hips firmly to hold her still as he surged inside her, aching erection finding its home, the wet, warm tightness against the super-stimulated flesh an almost unbearable sensation (and on one level it didn’t feel like that, it felt like the familiar sensation of his own large hand wrapped tight around his cock, pulling hard, rubbing back and forth, friction against the sensitive flesh building the feeling higher and higher until…) Suddenly he was coming, warm fluid erupting from him and into her, marking her as his and he howled out his pleasure as his cock jerked and spasmed, and finally, utterly satiated, began to go limp…

***

“Bobby?”

“Huh?”

“Bobby, it’s me. Sienna. You want to come to bed?”

“Huh?” He grunted again, opened an eye, and saw that a bleary-eyed Sienna was shaking his shoulder. The clock behind her showed that it was still the same day, but later in the evening.

“I’m back - we came home early. Sorry to wake you.”

“Huh?”

She smiled wickedly. “You looked like you were having a good dream.”


FINIS