Lay Your Hands On Me

_**A/N: BON JOVI! You guys know I love country, but these guys rock my socks. And if Jon Bon Jovi doesn't have the second sexiest smile in the world… I don't know who does! Sexiest is Chris of course: ) Anyway, R&R this one, can't wait to see those (working!) alerts roll in! XO, KiNsEy! P.S. Songfic and it's EO of COURSE!! And uh, it's rated M for a reason. This ain't no after-school special kiddos. Your constantly amazing reviews make me brave and I write this stuff smuttier and smuttier, so be prepared.**_

**Disclaimer: Only my overactive imagination belongs to me!**

--

_They say that to free the body, you've got to free the mind._

"I want this. I want it so damn bad I can taste it. But it's going to have to be your decision. It's up to you. If you want this too, you have to make the move. If you're ready, I'm here. If you're ready, I'm yours. I want to feel your hands on me. If you're ready, just touch me. Please."

I shoot up in bed, my eyes searching frantically around the darkness of my room. The damn dream again. Third night this week. Probably the eighteen or nineteenth time this month. I have to get together a game plan, or I'm never going to get another good night of sleep for the rest of my fucking life.

I flop back against the pillows, a thin layer of sweat covering my chest. I swipe a hand over my face, thinking about her. How she looked in the dream. How I could tell she was going to do it. Do what I asked. Touch me. She was biting her bottom lip. Something she did when she was nervous. Something very few people ever saw but me. Most people think of her as the unflappable sex crimes detective. I know more about her. I'm her best friend for Christ's sake. I know everything about her. I know she'll drink a strong cup of tea after a shitty case even though she'd rather have half a bottle of Jack. Or a bottle and a half. I know some perps make her nervous. Even when she's in their faces, screaming at them, she's nervous. I know that even though we see the most horrifying side of this city day in and day out, she's still terrified of scary movies. I make her watch them sometimes. Not because I'm a jerk. Because I like it when she yelps and clamps her hands over her eyes and peeks at me through her fingers to see if I'll tell her when the scary part is over. I especially like it when she scrambles into my lap and wraps her arms around my head, like she's trying to climb inside me to get away from whatever's on the TV. Hell, I love making her do anything that allows my skin to have contact with hers. Apparently I've been in this unit too long, because I've turned into a God damn masochist. I love everything about this woman. And it's about damn time I figured out what to do about it, especially if I ever want a full night's rest again.

Or, you know… if I want a full night of… non-rest.

--

I'm startled a few minutes later by my ringing cell phone.

"Stabler," I answer automatically, not even bothering to look at the caller ID. I'm on call tonight. It's 2 am, so it won't be anyone other than Cragen. Or my daughter Maureen needing a ride home from a party because her boyfriend is too drunk to drive. Again.

"El. Were you sleeping?" her silky-smooth voice trails over me the way I wish her tongue would, and I'm hard as a rock in half a second.

"Liv. That's what most people do at 2 am."

"You're right," she laughs lightly. "I'm sorry. I'll let you go back to sleep. Sorry," she says.

"Olivia, I was kidding. What's up?" I ask. I glance down to where my dick is currently holding the sheet up off my body. Besides me.

"I, uh, I couldn't sleep. I just thought… you know. Never mind. Go back to sleep, Elliot," she pauses like she's about to hang up.

"Liv, get your ass over here," I command.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

"Where are you?"

"About twenty minutes away. I'm just out driving around," she responds.

I think I can get myself under control in that time. "Get here."

"Okay. I'll see you in a few."

"See ya."

Okay. Baseball. Batting averages of the top three hundred players ever to walk into a park. ERA's. RBI's. I glance down to my lap again. Fuck. This isn't working.

Perps. Pedophiles. Scumbags. I look down again. Still no change.

Math problems. What's 548,965 times 871,896,154? Carry the two…

Son of a bitch. Cold shower it is.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm out of the shower, almost totally relaxed, pulling on a pair of sweats when I hear her buzz. I walk over to the intercom and push the button. "Liv?"

"Sure ain't the Avon lady," she replies. I smirk at her joke and buzz her up.

A few moments later, she's in the hall standing in my doorway. I step back to allow her entrance to the apartment and she sweeps past me. God she smells good. And looks like a wet dream. One I just happened to be having, as a matter of fact. Little navy blue shorts with "NYPD" across the ass and her badge number on her hip, a white skin-tight tank top with her breasts damn near spilling out of the top. Jesus Christ. I'm going to need another shower here in about half a second. She kicks her white flip-flops off and plops her sweet ass down on my couch. Dammit. I wanted to see some more of what the "NYPD" had to offer.

"Want some tea?" I ask. I keep the girly shit stocked for her. Just in case.

"How 'bout a beer?" she responds.

I raise an eyebrow at her. "You feelin' okay?"

She smiles and nods. I nod back and turn to go to the fridge. I stop for a second. I could have sworn I just heard her mutter something about liquid courage.

I'm not that fucking lucky, so it must have been my imagination.

I retrieve a couple bottles of MGD from the refrigerator and take them back into the living room, twisting the top off of hers before I hand it to her.

"Thank you, sir," she responds with a smile. I twist the top off my own beer and clink it against hers.

"You're most welcome," I say. "So. What has you out trolling the city at this hour?"

She takes a long pull from the beer and I stare as she swallows and it washes down her long throat. I would kill important people to be allowed to kiss her there.

"I…uh… I'm not sure," she says.

"I think you are," I tease.

"Oh I am, am I?" she dishes back.

"C'mon, Benson. When have you done anything _but_ go after what you want?" I ask, only half kidding.

"Every fucking day," she mutters.

"What was that?" I ask.

"Nothing!" she smiles brightly. "So what's going on with you? How'd the twins' report cards come out?"

I almost laugh out loud at her. I'm starting to catch on now. I hope. "You really come over her to talk about the fact that Lizzie's barely passing Chemistry?"

"No," she says quietly.

"Then what the hell's going on?" I ask gently.

"I… you know… that rule I have…"

"That you don't eat peas?"

"Not that one."

"That you must always have at least 4 tubes of Chap Stick at all times?"

"Not that one either."

"That you--"

"THATIDON'TGETINVOLVEDWITHTHEGUYSIWORKWITH!" she screams in a rush.

"What?" I ask, playing dumb. "Olivia, did something happen with Munch?"

"No. Fuck, this is not going how I'd planned. Can you get me another beer?" she asks. "Or a shot glass and a bottle of jack? Or just bring me the bottle?"

"Is this about us?" I ask.

"If you have to ask…"

"Liv. Just tell me."

"I…"

"You?"

"I…" she sighs.

"You what?"

"You're not going to make this easy for me, are you, you prick?" she asks, rolling her eyes.

"I want to make sure I'm right," I chide her gently.

"Elliot… I'm sure you know."

"What about your rule?"

"Fuck. The. Rule. And please. Please fuck _me._"

_If you're ready, I'm willing and able  
Help me lay my cards out on the table  
You're mine and I'm yours for the taking  
Right now the rules we made are meant for breaking_

This can't be real. I can't have been having that dream, contemplating how I was going to deal with how I felt about her, and then she comes over here ready and willing. I mean, I've gone to church for forty years, but even I'm not in _that_ high of favor with the man upstairs. Am I?

"What did you say?"

"Kiss me, Elliot."

"Olivia," I say, even though if she wants me to, I have every intention of fucking her until the sun comes up. I just want to make sure she's sure.

"Why do you do this to me?" she asks with a sigh.

I shrug. "Because I can."

She shakes her head and takes another pull from her beer. "You are such a fucker."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I tease. She glances up at me and her already golden brown eyes darken to a deep chocolate. The color of that good Godiva stuff. "One condition," I state.

"Anything," she says with a sigh of relief.

"You don't even know what it is," I say with a smile.

"It can't be that bad. Can it?" she asks.

"You have to start it. You have to make the move. I'm here if you want me. As a matter of fact, I've been here for a long time. But I want this to be your choice. You make the decision to step over this line we've drawn in the sand and I'll be there to catch you," I say seriously.

"How do I cross the line?" she asks.

"The minute you lay your hands on me, consider yourself on the dark side," I tease.

_What you get ain't always what you see  
But satisfactions guaranteed  
They say what you give is always what you need  
So if you want me to lay my hands on you_

Lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me,  
Lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me,

Lay your hands on me

She takes the beer from my hand and sets it on the coffee table next to the bottle she just drained. She grins at me and swings a leg over my thighs to straddle my lap.

"Like this?" she asks, stroking her hands up over my chest.

"Works for me," I say, crushing my lips to hers.

Holy fuck. I was married. 22 years of sex and it was never like this. It was great but this is… holy fuck. And all she's done is kiss me. She grinds her hips into mine and lets out a low groan. Her head tips back and her tongue darts out and gets caught between her teeth. I wrap my arms around her a little tighter, my hands going up under her tank top to press against the warm skin of her smooth back. I kiss a trail down the long column of her throat, stopping to press kisses on the gorgeous breasts shoving up out of her tank top. When I do, she grinds harder against me. "Elliot," she groans, digging her manicured nails into my chest. I arch my hips so she can feel how hard I am for her. I know by how shamelessly she's grinding on me that the pressure on her clit might do her a little good. Or you know. Blow her apart. I smirk to myself at the thought.

_I'm a fighter, I'm a poet, I'm a preacher  
I've been to school and baby, I've been the teacher  
If you show me how to get up off the ground  
I can show you how to fly and never ever come back down _

I move my hands from where they're dancing along her skin under her tank top down her back to her tight ass. I slip my hands beneath the elastic band of her shorts and find the thin strings of a lacy thong. My fingers trail lightly over her ass and I squeeze gently, eliciting another groan from her. I leave one hand resting on her ass and bring the other one around to the front. I slide it between our bodies and slip two fingers into her. Wet. I slide my other hand out of her shorts and cup my palm around the back of her head to bring her lips down to mine so I can kiss her while I finger her. Right before I kiss her I ask, "Are you pretending it's my cock?"

She whimpers again, grinding into my hand and contracting her muscles around my fingers. "Want the real thing?" I ask around her tongue.

She pulls her mouth off mine, both of us breathing like we're running a marathon. "You… know… I… I… fuck… I do…" she groans, my fingers still inside her.

"Then come. Come and I'll let you have whatever you want."

She closes her eyes as she's riding my hand.

"Let me amend that. Eyes open," I say. Her eyes open slowly and I look into them. They're glassy, like she's high. I can nearly see myself reflected in them.

"El…" she moans.

"What baby? I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Until you come. Then I'm carrying you into the bedroom. And I'm going to fuck you so many times you're going to lose count," I swear to her.

Apparently that's all it takes and she's blowing apart in my arms like a trailer park in a tornado. Her muscles clench around my fingers so tightly I don't know if I'll get them back again. She relaxes again, slowly, enough so I can get my hand out of her shorts, even though if I could, I'd leave it there forever. I lick her moisture from my fingers and kiss her gently as she slumps tiredly against me. She rests her head on my shoulder, breathing heavily.

"You okay?" I ask with a chuckle.

"Uh-huh," she mutters. "That was so… God."

_Everything you want is what I need  
Satisfactions guaranteed  
But the ride don't never ever come for free  
If you want me to lay my hands on you_

_Lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me,  
Lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me,_

Lay your hands on me

"I aim to please," I say.

"Oh trust me. You do," she responds, giving my ego a little stroke. "Now what were you saying about that bedroom?"

_Don't you know I only aim to please  
If you want me to lay my hands on you_

Lay your hands on me

_**A/N: What did you think? Did I go too far with the smut? Let me know! XO, KiNsEy Jo**_


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