~*$**$**$**$*~ Part 4 Scully turned around in the soothingly decorated dressing room, the piped in Euro-New Wave music floating through the speakers. The eggshell watered silk wall covering was edged with alabaster wainscoting and served as a backdrop for the gilt-edged floor to ceiling mirrors on two walls. A low, wide tapestry upholstered bench seat lined the third wall. Soft light emanated from the upturned frosted fixtures, giving a somewhat rosy and suffused glow to the room. This wasn't a dressing room, she mused, it was a fancy boudoir. A fantasy boudoir. Hanging the two items on the wall hooks, she stepped out of her boots, setting them aside, her socks pooling around her slim ankles. Unzipping them, she let the navy-lined slacks slide from her hips. She folded the pants, placing them on the bench cushions. Scully took a rare minute of self-inspection, her hands on her hips. Seeing herself.... Trying to see herself as he saw her; especially this afternoon. She studied the way the soft sweater clung to her curves, the baby fine ribbing at her waist ending several inches above the slight dip in the waist band of her panties. The length of her legs as they flowed to her...tweed socks. And she shook her head, laughing. Time to try on Mulder's outfit. She shook her head at her own manner of thinking about the set. Unclipping the tap pants from the hanger, she bent down, lifting one foot and then the other, drawing the satin up her legs and over her hips. She turned in profile, noting how the tailored slits draped on her upper thigh, almost reaching the covered elastic waist and definitely showing her panty line. She smoothed her hands over them and then crossed her arms at her waist, grasping the ribbed edge of her sweater. Mulder was restless and the lack of foot-tapping music wasn't helping. He had an itch that needed to be scratched. A Scully Itch. Dropping the bag of gummy bears into the chair and setting the other on the floor, he looked around, noting that Vivian and the other Sales Associates were discussing the latest in cleavage producing bras at the desk. His luck held out as he also noted that he and Scully appeared to be the only late afternoon customers. He approached the swinging slatted doors and pushed them open, feeling somewhat like a cowboy in the Old West entering a Saloon. Only the Barmaid wasn't decked out in billowing skirts and a bustier. Letting the doors flop back toward one another silently, on well-oiled hinges, he turned right and headed to the changing room on the end. As he drew closer, he could see her arms over her head, the angora wrapped around her and she pulled the top off. She was a vision. But for some reason, he felt like he was intruding and stepped back, out of what would be her line of vision. That didn't mean he hadn't noticed the slim sweep of her skin below her bra strap and over her ribs to her tiny waist and then to the swell of her hips as the deep cocoa of the bottoms fell against her. He paused his image replay right there knowing that he wasn't sure how much more restraint he had left in him. The sweater joined her slacks in an airy heap before she unclasped her bra. She needed to see the full effect.... Dropping the straps from her shoulders, she tossed the garment onto the bench and reached for the camisole. Mulder thought that this afternoon hadn't been about window shopping, really. And he could appreciate the art of fancy shopping just like the next person. But this had been something else. Downtime with Scully. With a woman who met him on so many levels and drove him nearly out of his mind with want and love and desire and...lust. That familiar stirring in his loins was back. Probably had never gone away. Sure he'd given her enough time to finish dressing, he called out to her, "Scully, you decent?" Her tone playfully chastising, she whispered, "Mulder, what are you doing in here?" "I think you already know the answer, so get your cute little butt out here and let me see you model my purchase." One hip thrust to the side, he leaned against the alabaster walls in the hallway right outside her changing room, his face a picture of rapt attention. She'd removed the headband when the velvet caught in the sweater. It looked like bedroom hair to Mulder. He loved Scully bedroom hair. Soft, waves-tossed. The sight of her body in that nearly not-there outfit took his breath away and sent all the blood from his formerly thinking brain straight to his groin. Mulder, Jr. wanted in on this party. Finding some semblance of his voice, he instructed her to turn around for him, noting the heated flush that rose from where the satin pooled in her cleavage up her neck and across her face. It made her eyes sparkle. Dangerously. The view from the rear was alluring. The way her hair fell between her shoulder blades the soft creamy color of her skin exposed by the low back of the camisole. The fall of the pants over her ass stopping just below where her thighs joined her hips. "Turn again, Scully." His voice this time was barely audible, flowing over her like molasses, coating her as she felt the warmth settle low in her belly. She swept her hair off her shoulders unconsciously, her arms hanging by her sides looking for all the world as if she had no idea what to do with them. "What do you think?" Her words drifted to him although they'd been spoken nearly as quietly as his. "I think that your nipples are just begging to be touched. By me." When had he closed the distance between them, she wondered. And when had she backed into the alcove formed by the three-way mirror behind her? And while she was mentally posing questions, when had his thumb started massaging her nipple through the fluttery fabric? ~*$**$**$**$*~ He braced himself with one arm above her head, leaning into the mirror. *This* would not have been happening several months ago. This closeness, this comfort with their intimacy that allowed them to give in to a whim. To be turned on. To turn each other on to such a state that their surroundings became secondary. Or only serving to heighten their experience. Sure, one might say that this was his game, but her eyes told him all he needed to know. She was on his team, front and center. She took his breath away -- at once stunningly provocative and enticingly innocent. All wrapped up in shimmery satin decorating silky skin. His index and middle fingers tilted her chin up as he gazed down into the depths of her eyes. Their connection and the seductive smile curling her lips told him what he wanted to know. Allowing his hand to slide down the mirror, he bent toward her. Slowly. He'd tried before, but couldn't really express exactly what it was about closing that short distance from separate to together that was so alluring. How her eyes flitted from his eyes to his lips and back again several times. How she parted her lips barely enough to allow the tip of her tongue to trace the arc of her lower lip and even when her tongue retreated her lips remained poised in invitation. An invitation to brush her lips with his. Time returned to its usual pace. She felt the electric zing when the soft/firm touch of him grazed her mouth. And when his bent knee parted her thighs, her socks slid on the carpeting. But it was the touch of his thumb on her already aching nipples that caused her to moan. She seemed to do a lot of moaning around him lately. And groaning and whimpering. She was a virtual symphony of previously unplayed sounds. Her hands reached for the neckline of his pullover, seeking to deepen their lip lock. It was his turn to groan when he felt her arch in his hands that cupped her breasts. Overwhelming sensation. Frenzied sparks against languid waves. And a slight recollection that they weren't exactly in the privacy of either apartment.... Mulder's lips slipped off hers with nearly the same touch he'd used to greet her. The breath of his whisper did nothing to staunch the wetness she was beginning to feel. "God, Scully. I really love how this fits you." They both laughed. "Mulder, we need to get out of here. Now." He responded to the urgency in her tone, feeling the same urgency straining in his trousers. Forcing himself to step back from her, his eyes raked over her one final time before he turned. His parting words, tossed her way over his shoulder, had her quirking an eyebrow at him...as she grinned. "Love the socks, Scully. They turn me on." ~*$**$**$**$*~ Folding her bra in with the matching lingerie set, Scully slid her headband back into her hair and headed out to the sales desk. She caught site of Mulder who was already completing the sale, his credit card in Vivian's hand. The small bag of candy somehow managed to look both cute and absurd in his hand. Her bemused grin went unnoticed. But the fact that Mulder's nose wasn't the only part of his body in sharp profile as she approached the counter was very noticeable. She hoped Vivian was as skilled with the credit card purchases as she'd been with ushering her to the dressing room. The polished Sales Associate didn't even bat an eyelash at the customer's bra neatly tucked in between the camisole and tap pants. But Mulder noticed the hardened buds that formed two small points in the soft fluff of her sweater. Neither noticed the Saleswomen's knowing smiles as they left the shop, the tall handsome man carrying the glossy pink handle bag and the blue and white striped Sweet Factory bag of gummies. ~*$**$**$**$*~ The Marriott Hotel Later Sunday Afternoon When Scully shook her head indicating that no, she did not need to get a magazine from The Newsstand, Mulder looked relieved. He'd remembered how he'd wanted to divert her from her errand in order to get to Victoria's Secret and felt it only fair to offer to stop there now. He wasn't quite sure where they were headed, but he knew it had to be close by and it had to be now. The fact that the little red-haired minx next to him kept butting her hip into him wasn't helping him one little bit. To top it off, he was making a valiant effort to keep his eyes averted from her rather perky breasts in that much too soft and thin white sweater. They jiggled with her movements. In a most titillating and tantalizing manner.... He wanted to back her into the granite Plaza walls and nuzzle his face against her until she dropped the shopping bag and begged him to unzip her pants. Then he'd drop his bags and lap at her through the sweater while his fingers made a beeline for the sure-to-be wet crotch of her panties. "Mulder? Hello? Mulder?" It took him several seconds to register the fact that she had stopped moving and was trying to get his attention. Already at the escalator threshold, he skidded to a halt. "Sorry, Scully. What were you saying?" He felt as if he'd just run a marathon...sprinting. She read him well, knew he was experiencing that same heady rush of adrenaline. Heart pounding, breath coming in short pants, skin flushed, certain anatomical locations on full alert. "I was just asking you how far away the car was, but I think I remember. It's way too far." Focusing on the fine art of conversation, he raked his hand through his hair and then crossed his arms over his chest. "Forget the car, Scully. If I remember correctly, the Marriott's right down the escalator. What do you think the chances are of them having a room?" She could tell he liked the hotel idea. It wasn't so much the rather leering smile on his face or the glint in his eyes as much as the way he stepped just a bit closer to her. So she could feel his tightly coiled energy full force. Oh, she'd like to harness some of that energy. Cradle it right between her legs. "We're never going to know until we get down there. Move it, Mulder." Walking ahead of him, she stepped onto the moving stairway, the large plate glass window in front of them providing a view of the city was entirely lost on them. He was in a hurry. The fact that he tried his best to join her on her moving step was the dead give-away. Realizing it would be almost physically impossible, he settled for invading her space from the step above, his hands on her shoulders, the now combined into one bag bouncing in her hand. She glanced up and back, knowing he'd read her eyebrow raise correctly, making it unnecessary for her to verbally tell him to relax. She softened her expression with a small smile. Mulder spotted the sign for the hotel lounge to the left as they disembarked, guiding her through the crowd at the coffee bar. "I don't see the Registration Desk." "It's down one more floor. This way." She was pretty sure that had there been fewer people milling around, he might have broken out into a run, tugging her along behind him, his longer legs striving to make short work of the distance between them and release. "Mulder, slow down, the escalator to the lobby is right here." In his haste, they'd nearly overshot it. This time, he stood next to her, needing the contact, his arm tightly around her waist. It felt divine, but was not enough. Turning into him, she hooked her index finger in his back belt loop, bringing their bodies closer. Knowing that if she let her hand drop just a little, it would rest on his ass. That would be dangerous. That would be wonderful. Maybe they should pick up the pace a little. Luckily, they were two of only five people standing along the velvet stanchions and they were called quickly. "We'd like a room, please." "Do you have reservations?" The Clerk smiled, all business. "Uh, no, we don't." Scully could hear the small tinge of tension creeping into Mulder's voice. "Do you want one or two rooms, Sir?" Scully decided to assist her partner, cover his back. And what a fine back it was, she mused from her position. "That would be one room, please. Make it a single. One night." She concluded, deftly anticipating the Reservationist's questions and facilitating their check-in. Mulder reached for his credit card, handing Scully the Victoria's Secret bag in the process. Setting the card on the counter, he moved her in front of him, on arm wrapped around her waist again. Gritting her teeth, she stifled what would have been a rather embarrassing whimper. If she'd thought he was aroused before, she hadn't seen anything yet. Insistent and hard, she felt the ridge of him pressing into her hip and lower back and the slight shift of his hips as his body sought the contact almost of its own accord. Trying to extricate herself wasn't a possibility given his iron-clad grip on her. "That will be $172.50, Mr. Mulder." Barely listening and waiting for the slip to sign, he bent to Scully's ear. "Maybe we should register as Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher." She would have pushed him away if he barest touch of his lips on the shell of her ear didn't feel so damn hot. Scully caught the carefully hidden lip curl of the woman behind the counter as the new guests turned toward the elevators--with no luggage save two shopping bags. ~*$**$**$**$*~ End Part 4