Title: Praying For Love in a Lap Dance (And Paying in Naivety)
Fandom: Numb3rs
Characters: Coop/Amita
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2402
Dedication: For melissima, who is the official owner of Max Martini. All you other bitches betta recognize!
Disclaimer: Not mine, only borrowing, just fun, no infringement intended


She met him at the hotel as promised and stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“Come on in, honey. Take a load off.” His voice was rough and smoky like bourbon, and there’s no way she could deny a man who spoke like that. She shut the door behind her and slipped out of her sandals. The room smelled of musk and sweet smoke, and she spotted a burning cigar perched in an ashtray on the nightstand.

He circled her like a predator to his prey, brilliant blue eyes darkening, tongue licking ravenously at his lips. He stepped closer to her from behind – face few inches from her ear – and inhaled deeply. “Mmm… you smell delicious. I could just eat you up.” His hands slid down the bare skin of her arms, and she shivered. “Would you like that, darlin’?” Coop walked around her and smiled deviously. “Want me to eat you, Amita?”

She felt wetness and heat between her thighs at his delicious words and the sound of her name murmured over gravel and a molasses Southern drawl. Images raced through her head of Coop on his knees between her legs, licking and sucking at her skin until she came over and over again.

“Yes.” Her voice cracked on a whisper. “Yes, Billy.”

His fingers brushed back the thick, black hair that was threatening to fall in her eyes, and he tilted her chin up so that she was staring into his eyes. “Such a pretty, little thing, aren’t you? I see why the boys like you so much. Tell me, when’s the last time someone told you that you’re beautiful?”

“I don’t know.” She wished she could sound more sure of herself, but those eyes and that voice have reduced her to whispers and tiny tremors along her skin.

“That’s a shame ‘cause if you were my girl, I’d tell you everyday. Hell, you’d get sick of it, you’d hear it so much.” The corner of his mouth twisted into another mischievous grin. Suddenly, one arm wrapped around her back and the other behind her knees, and he picked her up to carry to her to the bed.

He laid her down on top of the covers and leaned in to press a trail of kisses from her neck to her collarbone. His hands slipped under her shirt, and fingertips ran softly along her skin up to the underwire of her bra. Rubbing her over the lace, the rest of his body moved lower, and he settled between her legs, his mouth at her stomach. He licked her skin, tongue dipping into her navel, and she shivered at the hot, wet, soft sensation. His hands pushed up her bra and fell on her bare breasts, fingers working her nipples.

“God, Billy…”

“Can’t wait, huh?” and it’s less of a question than a smug jab at her control. His confidence turned her on. Charlie never showed confidence in himself outside of math. Beyond the numbers, Charlie was a timid, awkward kid, afraid to say anything out of fear that someone would disagree with him and make him look like a fool. But Coop… Coop wasn’t a force to be reckoned with, and he knew it. He was strong and self-assured, and Amita thought he was the kind of guy who would start fights at bars because someone looked at his girl the wrong way.

“I want you.” She put a hand on his head and gently pushed him downward, and he followed her nudging, taking his hands from her nipples and sliding his body further down the bed until he was back on his feet on the floor, and his hands were at the waist of her jeans. He grabbed the material and tugged, pulling her towards him. Her legs dangled off the bed and then found solidity on the ground. He popped the button on her jeans, and she lifted her hips for him to slide them down, leaving her in her panties, t-shirt, and bra pushed up to her neck.

“Take off your shirt, sweetheart. Let me see how pretty you are.”

At that point, he could have asked her to commit homicide, and she would have, whatever it took to get what she wanted from him. She pulled off her shirt and unclasped her bra, throwing them to the side.

He whistled at the half-naked sight of her. “Gorgeous. You are a thing of beauty, Amita. Do you ever just look in the mirror and think, ‘Damn, I’m sexy’?”

She blushed and giggled. “No…”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a nice girl. But you know what?” He watched her lay back into the mattress and thick covers. “There ain’t no saying that nice girls finish last. In fact, in my book, they finish first.”

He pressed his face to the inside of her left thigh with an open mouth and licked at her skin, then began gently suckling at the tender skin. She keened and instinctively tried to shut her legs, but his hands came up and grabbed at the tops of her knees, keeping her spread apart for him. He resumed his sweet torture and then switched to the other thigh, repeating. Amita squeezed her eyes shut, mouth strained open in a silent scream that couldn’t come out from her tight chest and clenched vocal chords.

He finally put his mouth between her legs and kissed at the thin lace covering her. He licked at the material and looked up at her with those perfect blue eyes taking in the sight of her straining against the urge to shout out and beg. He continued to lick at her, wetting her panties and smelling her musk, getting the tiniest taste of her as her wetness soaked through the lace.

Finally, she broke.

“Billy, please!”

“Please what, darlin’?” He smiled against her skin and looked up at her again, lifting his eyebrows, his expression prodding for more.

“Please eat me. Please… please fuck me with your tongue.”

“Shit, baby, that’s all you had to say.” He slipped a finger under the band of her panties and pushed the material to the side. He spread apart the folds of her wet skin and dipped his tongue inside. She writhed at the contact, thrusting her hips up to feel more, make him go deeper. He continued to tease her, delivering short licks to her opening, folds, clit. Coop directed his attention to her nub, biting down and then sucking hard, eliciting a desperate and heated scream from her. Two fingers pressed inside her as he continued his assault on her clit, and her hands came down to thread fingers into his hair. He sucked harder and pushed his fingers deeper, crooking them to hit her spot, and she screamed again. She arched her back and put her hands to her face to wipe away the tears forming. He was exquisite – knew exactly what to do.

As she approached orgasm, he pulled back and took his fingers out of her. Coop returned to his teasing, licking softly at her over and over until her breathing was almost normal again and her body wasn’t as taut, and then he buried his tongue inside her, flicking hard and fast and deep. His wet fingers landed on her clit, working it in quick circles as he somehow got his tongue deeper in her, and then her orgasm was bubbling up again.

“Come for me, honey. Come hard for me.” He pushed his tongue back inside and ate at her with more vigor than she could ever imagine receiving from any other lover – past, present, future. He was a virtuoso, a pure master of the art, and then she was blacking out, seeing stars. White-hot light exploded behind her eyes, and she was coming hard, harder than she had ever imagined possible, and her solitary thought was don’t ever let it stop.

“I won’t.”

She opened her eyes and then realized that she’d spoken the words aloud, but before she had the chance to recant or clarify, he was bringing her to a second orgasm, his mouth and fingers switching places. His fingers quickly found her spot again while his lips and teeth trapped her clit in his mouth. She shuddered and screamed as she came again, and when he finished – when she’d come as hard as she could for the second time – he lifted his head, and she took in the sight of his lips and cheeks covered in her come.

“My turn,” he drawled and quickly disposed of his shirt and jeans. His hard cock popped free of his boxers as he pushed them with the jeans to his ankles, then his naked body was crawling up to her, and she felt the head of his cock against her skin, against her entrance. He strained to reach for the nightstand drawer and pulled it open. After a bit of shuffling, he produced a condom and quickly tore the packaging with his teeth, spitting out the wrapping onto the floor. She watched him roll the lubricated latex down his thick, hard shaft, and it was okay that he didn’t ask permission because he was intuitive and observational enough to know that she wanted it desperately. She needed him to fuck her.

He pushed inside her wet heat and quickly took a punishing pace. The feeling of his cock fucking her was glorious; he knew all the right places to hit and the perfect pace at which to hit it. The last thing on Amita’s mind was the number of girls Coop must have fucked in order to become this good, this outstanding. He was a cognoscente of pussy, and she was the one who was being blessed with his skills.

“Like that, sweetie? Like how my cock feels inside you?” His voice alone was enough to bring her to a fever pitch, but when combined with his cock inside her, Amita couldn’t even begin to imagine something more extraordinary. It was pure ecstasy, a drug, an addiction, and she didn’t want to let go.

His moaning and grunting spurned her on, and she felt a third orgasm building, astonished at the fact that her body could take this much.

“Oh, baby, you feel so damn good.”

“Fuck me, Billy. God… god… you’re perfect.”

He slammed home inside her, and their orgasms hit at the same time. She felt his cock pulsing inside her against the waves of her walls, and her come dripped from her, covering his cock and spreading onto her thighs, and she knew that this was it; this was what she had always wanted – a gorgeous man with an intoxicating voice, great body, street smarts, biting sarcasm, and bedroom proficiency.

Coop nuzzled his face against her neck, supporting himself on shaking arms. “God damn, sweetheart, that was amazing.” He rolled off of her. “Whoa. I gotta tell ya, any guy who gets you is a lucky fucking man.”

She wanted to tell him that she thought he was the one – the lucky man – but it was too soon, and she blamed the urge on post-coital endorphins, just the body’s chemical reactions. Yes, she had felt something when they first met, something that grew greater and stronger as their interactions continued, bringing her to the point of sleeping with him, but he’d only think her stupid if she said it now, and stupid was one thing Amita had never been. She decided to wait.



“Where’s Cooper?” she asked Don with a bright smile on her face.

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Her smile dimmed a little; those words were never good. “He went back to Quantico. Another day, another case. You know the drill.”

Her smile was gone. Gone? She flashed back to memories of last night. How could he just leave without saying something to her? How could he just disappear off to the next city after they’d made love? “Hmm. Okay...”

“Yup, that’s the drill. Coop comes to a city, saves the day, and heads back to headquarters. It’s practically clockwork with him.” Don looked up from the files he was sorting through and took sight of her broken, disappointed features. She stared far-off at some unimportant object and fought back against tears. There was no reason for her to be so upset; it had only been a few days that she knew him. Still, she had felt those heady emotions, and she had pushed her relationship with Charlie to the side in favor of something with Coop. And she thought she was love with him, in love with him because he knew how to deliver his lines and fuck. She felt like an idiot; she’d been presented with no evidence whatsoever that Coop had the intention of not moving on. Her glossy eyes connected with Don’s, and she observed Don’s facial reactions to realization hitting him. “Oh, god, Amita. I didn’t… I didn’t know you two…” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Coop… he’s a good guy; he really is. But…” Don sighed and shook his head again. “He’s got a helluva job to do, and I’m sure that if he knew that you’re a friend of the family – ”

“He knew.” She nodded and dropped her eyes to the floor. “He knew.” Amita lifted her head almost defiantly with one small sniffle and tossed her hair back. She looked hard down at Don. “Just don’t tell Charlie, okay?”

Don nodded his head, brow furrowed. “Yeah, sure. But I think it’s important that if you go back to my brother, you don’t let this happen again. Don’t fuck with him, Amita. He’s really sensitive about rejection. So if you’re not happy with him, you should let him know now. Don’t be a coward and – ”

“I’m not a coward; I made a mistake.” She straightened her posture and faked a soft smile. “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not. Remember, I’m in the FBI, and I know where you live.” Don smiled at her, corners of his eyes crinkling, and he winked.

Amita felt something inside her, something pulling her to Don, and she could imagine that face between her thighs, taking her to new heights.

The sound of her cell phone ringing tore her from her fantasy of Don. She pulled the phone and glanced at the caller ID. Charlie.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are today?”