Chapter Title: Assertive Women
Characters: Brennan, Booth
Rating: R (Do not read if you are underage, or if frank language/sexuality offend you.)
Spoilers: Through 2x11 (season 2, episode 11)
Summary: Thoughts of Booth are keeping Brennan awake at night. Question is, what is she going to do about it? This story is set in Season 2, after Episode 11, though I may have changed the exact month.
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Prologue & Chapter 1
Chapter 2: Assertive Women
Booth leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and waited for Brennan to answer his question. What the hell was he going to say if she said yes? He felt himself start to harden at the thought. Hey, quit it. Think about something else, fast. Dirt, skeletons, shiny, black beetles cleaning off human remains. Beetles, think beetles. Jackpot! He started to go soft.
"Well, it isn't accurate to say I called you." He winced and covered his eyes.
"Do you always have to be so damned literal?"
She sat across from him on the edge of his coffee table and mirrored his posture. As she leaned forward, her tank top gaped away from her chest. He fought not to look. He lost. "You didn't let me finish. While I didn't actually call you, it's true that I am interested in your...booty."
"Never, and I do mean never, let me hear you say that word again. It's just...not right."
"Which word? Booty?"
"Ah!" He covered her mouth with his hand. "What did I just say?" Her reply came out muffled against his palm. He snatched his hand back as soon as his brain processed the fact that her lips were soft and warm against his skin. This was Brennan, his squinty partner. They worked together.
He couldn't go there with her... Could he?
Ok, so he had thought about it. Once or twice. A man would have to be blind and a monk not to notice she was stacked; Booth was neither. But that didn't mean anything. Men liked to look. He was a man. Therefore he liked to look. It didn't have to mean anything.
"It doesn't have to mean anything."
"Booth, You're not listening. Please pay attention," she said impatiently. "I was saying..." She paused, narrowed her eyes, and gave him a pointed look. "It doesn't have to mean anything. It's just sex. It would just be sex -- satisfying biological urges. Nothing more."
"Bones, we work together." He mentally patted himself on the back for keeping his tone patient.
"That didn't stop you from sleeping with Dr. Saroyan."
So much for patience. "That was different," he said with a dismissive wave. This time he didn't bother hiding his irritation.
"How so?" Her blue eyes pinned him and he squirmed. He'd never admit it, but he admired this about her -- her unflinching directness. It was just his luck that he usually happened to be on the receiving end of it.
"It just is."
"That's very poor logic."
"Whatever, Bones. Anyway, me and Cam -- that's over."
"Since when? What happened?"
"That's none of your business."
"Interesting how you always accuse me of not sharing enough, yet here you are, doing your best to be as evasive as possible."
Unable to come up with a scathing reply, Booth settled for glaring at her.
"Fine, we'll ignore the matter of Dr. Saroyan for now."
"Thanks," he muttered, bracing himself for whatever she might say next.
"So admit it, you were going to kiss me."
"Kiss you? Have you lost your mind? When was I going to do that?"
"Outside the diner, the day Dr. Saroyan officially hired Zach."
"Trust me, I was not going to kiss you. Not that day, not ever." He slashed his hand through the air for emphasis.
"Yes, you were."
"Quit it, Bones."
"You're lying, Booth."
"Oh, so now you're questioning my honor."
"Not your honor, just your honesty. But I'll believe you...if you swear on your son. Swear on Parker, and I'll believe that you weren't going to kiss me that day."
"Now you're just being childish."
"You can't do it, can you? I know you think I'm not good with people, but I'm not stupid either. I know you wanted to kiss me. What I don't understand is why you're trying to deny it now."
"Believe what you want. I'm not going to swear anything on Parker."
"Are you afraid of me? Perhaps you're not used to assertive women who are willing to act on their sexual impulses. Perhaps I intimidate you."
"You don't intimidate me." He leaned forward, squashing the thrill of excitement that flared through him as he invaded her personal space. "Why would you even think that?"
"Angela says men are much more fragile and needy."
"Yeah, well Angela says a lot of things. What's with the psychology, anyway? I thought you hated that stuff."
"I do. But I trust Angela. And you are behaving rather oddly."
"I'm behaving oddly? You're the one who showed up at my apartment in the middle of the night looking for I don't even know what."
She shook her head and shot him a penetrating look. "I've told you exactly why I'm here."
He swallowed thickly as Brennan slipped off the coffee table and moved to kneel between the V of his legs. The moment shifted, altered, grew heavy.
"What are you doing?"
"Going with my gut. You're always telling me I should trust it."
"And exactly what is your gut telling you?"
"That you're afraid of me."
"Are we back to that again? I. Am. Not. Afraid. Of. You."
Her lips curved in a knowing smile that told him he'd walked right into that one. "Kiss me. Just once. I dare you."
"Careful, Bones. This could be considered sexual harassment."
"Only if you say no." Her lips parted and she looked at him, with eyes that were wide open but dark and hazy with something that looked an awful lot like lust, instead of being sharp with cool intelligence the way they usually were.
"Are you saying no?"
Mere inches separated them, the space between them electric with awareness. His gaze skipped from the blue of her eyes to the moist pink of her mouth. Then it moved lower. Strands of her hair curled across the upper curve of her breasts, shone reddish brown in the lamplight.
Booth didn't stand a chance, and he knew it. He reached out and caught several of the strands, rubbed the silky ends between his fingers, allowing his knuckles to graze her silky skin. Her chest rose and fell with her breath, but she was otherwise still -- waiting for an answer to her question -- waiting for him to kiss her.
So he did.
He brushed his lips across hers, keeping the pressure light, giving her a chance to change her mind, though she was the one who had initiated things. Brennan was right; he was afraid. Not of her, but of not being able to go back. They were poised on the edge of something that couldn't be undone. He wondered if she understood that, worried that she didn't.
But none of that mattered at the moment, he told himself. What mattered was that she was there, in his apartment, wanting him to touch her. Wanting him. He'd always imagined that if he ever got this close to her, he'd pay for it dearly. A slap in the face at least. Broken bones at the most; she did know three forms of martial arts.
He'd been wrong.
She'd surprised him, again.
As gentle and deliberate as that first kiss was, apparently Brennan wanted more. Her fingers tunneled through his hair, cupped the base of his skull, holding him still as her mouth slanted hungrily over his, demanding and impossibly hot. Pleasure shot through him at the unfamiliar but more than welcome contact. There was nothing tentative about the velvet slide of her tongue against his. She tasted like toothpaste and desire. He wanted more. He wanted it all.
Fire raced through his veins, awakening every nerve ending in his body. Then Brennan rose from the floor and sank onto his lap, straddling him. He growled low in his throat as she pressed herself against him. The heat and scent of her were doing crazy things to him, making his cock ache and throb. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking down the smooth line of her neck and shoulders to the sweet spot where her back dipped and curved into her ass. He felt her shudder and heard her breath hitch as he cupped her there.
New...This, her body, her responses -- they were all new to him. He resolved then to learn just where and how she liked to be touched. If she let him.
When she suddenly sat back against his thighs and reached for the waistband of his pants, he caught her questing hand in his and mentally cursed himself for his sometimes inconvenient sense of honor. Searching her eyes with his own, he said, "Whoa, slow down, Bones. Are you sure about this?"
To be continued...
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