Numb3rs Fic: Jet Black
Written for ian_nikki - Silk Challenge
Crossposted to numb3rs_slash
Title: Jet Black
Series/Universe: Jet Black
Pairing/Characters: Ian/Nikki/Charlie
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Sniper Zero, High Exposure, Angels and Devils
Summary: Nikki discovers Ian has a thing for dark curls that just can’t be denied
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
Ian has an eye; Nikki's observant enough to notice this.
She'd expected a sniper/tracker to be especially aware of his surroundings, but after a few dates she figures out his type: dark curls.
It's harmless and it answers the question as to how he picked her out of a crowd of FBI agents who would more than willingly put money down to be bedded by the legendary Edgerton. Colby had told her there were stories of his prowess way back in Afghanistan. He flushed crimson when she told him the stories were not wrong. It was amusing to see him stammer and suddenly pretend he needed to be elsewhere, even if the elsewhere she figured he ended up was the men’s room.
And then one day she catches Ian's roving eye coming to rest on a mop of unruly dark curls.
At work.
He notices her looking and is unashamed; that's his way. Instead, his eyes flick between her and Charlie in a sort of question she doesn't get until he raises his eyebrow at her and smiles that wolfish grin that he normally uses to tell her she's in for an epic evening.
The air leaves her lungs all at once. The idea of a third doesn't shock her, but Ian picking a man? The boss' brother? Clearly he's gone off. If there's anyone who's verboten in all of Don's domain it's Charlie.
And yet, the appetite for dark curls cannot be denied.
+
Ian is evil; this is news to no one, especially Nikki.
But when he starts talking dirty in her ear as he fucks her, bent over the hotel room desk, he starts telling her all the things the two of them could do to Charlie if they had him alone and better yet, what the two men could do to her.
It's so hot she comes twice - once from Ian's thick cock pounding into her while lethal fingers make her want to die and a second time where she's overwhelmed by the stark visual Ian's painted of both he and Charlie filling her at once - four hands pleasuring her right out of her mind.
She's sold after that, skin almost itching for twenty brilliant digits sliding over her quivering flesh, seeking her out beneath her favorite silk sheets, sending her over the edge in unison. This, she will remember.
That is if Ian can possibly talk Charlie into it.
+
It's decided before she even has time to worry about it.
Ian casually mentions over dinner to keep the weekend free and then pushes over a box - not wrapped, but it's a nice box from a high end store. She peeks inside and finds a new set of silk sheets, just like her existing ones, only not creamy ivory. They're jet black.
Apparently this is Edgerton-speak for 'prepare yourself for a long weekend in bed.'
She can barely sit still for the rest of the meal and she all but pounces on him once they get through the door of his hotel room. If she's going to risk sharing him, she's going to make sure he remembers she’s damn good all by herself first.
+
It goes without saying there will be no discussion of this at work - ever.
Nikki already has a special free email account on the Internet just to talk to Ian and apparently Charlie made one too, just for this: EdgeCubed.
They work out the arrangements in advance. Each of them has a request, to which the others must agree.
Nikki's request is condoms - no exceptions.
Charlie's request is that no one speak while the three of them are together. Ian agrees on the condition that anyone may safeword if fingersnapping doesn't work. Everyone finds that acceptable.
Ian's request surprises her even more than Charlie's odd request: blindfolds - for all of them. To be put on while everyone is still clothed, before anything begins. Charlie doesn't balk, but asks about when they come off. Ian's answer, enigmatic as always, is that they'll come off when he says they come off, or when someone safewords.
Charlie accepts. Nikki, breathless with anticipation, replies to all with a simple 'yes.'
+
The jet black sheets look amazing with her tawny animal print duvet. She'd gotten the ivory to go with the earthy tan color, but the black sheets pick up the black markings in the duvet, making the bed look even more exotic.
She splurges and hires a cleaning service to come over Friday night and they scour her place until it's cleaner than when she moved in.
She fills her refrigerator with a veritable 9 1/2 Weeks feast. Even if they don't get to it at all she's got Ian in town for the next week. Those strawberries won't go to waste, not a chance.
She eats like a bird all day, pacing, checking her email - afraid Charlie will cancel last minute when it's her who's anxious about this whole thing.
The little voice in the back of her head is convinced Don will find out and ship her off to Organized Crime or worse, Orange County. Liz transferred in from behind the Orange Curtain and she's forever saying how grateful she is to have been rescued from the homogenized suburbs.
Surprisingly, the little voice doesn't seem to have any protest when it comes to having sex with Charlie past that. She's seen Charlie focused one hundred percent on a problem and it gave her chills. She's been with Ian long enough to know what it's like to be on the receiving end of that laser sharp focus and doubling it? It makes that little voice just recede into the white noise.
Impatient, she emails Ian a partial list of what's in her refrigerator.
She almost blushes when he replies that he can't wait to lick her strawberry.
One hour to go. More pacing. And maybe a strawberry or two.
+
Ian arrives first; he's good like that.
He'd never make her or Charlie uncomfortable by leaving them alone, wondering what to do.
He places a finger on her lips to remind her not to speak so she pulls him into to the kitchen and drags a red ripe strawberry over her red painted lower lip to entice him.
He wags a finger as if to chide her for starting without Charlie, but he still steals the strawberry, eating it in an almost pornographic fashion as she watches, heat rising to her skin already.
He gets his bag of tricks, as she calls it, set up in the bedroom - laying out three identical black satin blindfolds in a row on her dresser.
Her fingers graze over one, almost as silky as her sheets and probably just as sensual. They've blindfolded each other before, that was nothing, but the idea of all three of them? She was extra glad she'd tidied up the place so no one would step on an errant CD at a bad time.
The top of the hour comes and goes; Charlie's late.
+
The doorbell rings at ten after, so not too bad.
Ian opens her apartment door for her, shares a nod with Charlie before stepping back to admit him.
Nikki has to blink a moment to make sure it's the same man.
Gone are the slovenly clothes, the untucked shirt, the day old stubble. Charlie looks amazing. He has on a tailored black suit with a dark purple shirt that suits his coloring wonderfully - the open collar displaying a hint of chest hair a visual bonus. He's freshly shaven and his dark curls are glossy and neatly styled. No bedhead in sight. Not yet anyway.
Ian closes and locks the door, takes Charlie's overnight bag from him and wordlessly beckons them both into the bedroom.
He shows Charlie where he's setting his bag, next to his own, then gestures to them to remove their socks and shoes, which he tucks safely away under her bed. Ian slips off his coat and - in a sight that sends a rush through her body - he slips Charlie's coat off him in one smooth, almost intimate looking motion. Another gesture gets them to go wash their hands in the adjoining bathroom.
Upon their return, Ian points to the blindfolds, his eyes questioning.
Charlie nods then looks to her. She nods as well.
Ian fastens the first around his own eyes then lifts it up just enough for him to see enough to put theirs on. She watches him sidle up behind Charlie, who leans back against him - the spark between them clear, making it obvious to her that these two would have explored their attraction even if she hadn't been in the picture.
Once Charlie is bound with black satin, it's her turn.
Ian gives her a look - last chance to back out. She holds her head high and lets him wrap her eyes, blocking out all light, all vision.
Then it's all darkness. No light, no sound.
Just the anticipation of Ian's touch, his command, following whatever he envisions for the three of them this evening makes every nerve ending hum.
She feels Ian reach for her hand; he puts Charlie's in it.
Charlie squeezes, whether to reassure her or himself, she's not sure.
But she's connected to him.
They're both waiting now.
+
He leads them back out to the kitchen; sits them down on the rug in the middle of the floor.
He opens the refrigerator and tugs her near, asking her with his hands which items to pull out. She feels a little chill so near to the open door, but it's more than canceled out by the heat they're all putting out.
They start, of course, with the strawberries.
They're cold on her tongue and burst into flavor as she chews.
Foreign fingers find their way up her arm, her neck, find her lips and then Charlie's mouth is berry flavored too. He kisses so differently from Ian, not softer, just less rushed, but every bit as ardent.
Her fingers find their way into Ian's mouth and he sucks them clean, polishing them off with little flicks of his tongue that are like promises of what’s to come.
She thinks she grabs the hot fudge sauce next, but she's wrong: it's the salted caramel sauce the gourmet shop owner swore was exquisite. It's even better on Ian's salty neck. She unbuttons his shirt and pushes it open, trailing a line down his bare chest then licking it up as she feels Charlie's hand searching for the jar beside her.
When she sits up Charlie artfully paints a stripe down into her cleavage then chases it with his tongue.
She hears Ian rummaging in the refrigerator without her and hears containers being opened. He starts feeding them both in earnest: cold roast beef thinly sliced, aged smoked cheese that melts on her palate, fresh pears - juicy and sweet.
Somehow he gets the bottle of wine open and they drink lustily from the bottle, passing it carefully between them.
It's only when Charlie apparently spills some that he breaks the silence with a laugh that almost startles her. The silence had not been strange until broken.
She hears him taking his shirt off and offers her hands to help. His chest is well furred, like Don's - no problem telling Charlie and Ian apart there. He's far more compact than Ian, but fit, nicely so - even though it had been hard to tell beneath his easygoing academic attire.
She finds the hot fudge sauce this time and smudges a loaded thumb along that strong jaw and down his Adam's apple before pushing him to the floor to lick it off.
He shoves her shirt the rest of the way off as Ian works on shimmying her skirt off her hips.
Down to her bra and thong, she shivers a little in front of the cold air of the refrigerator - more so when Ian lays her down and draws a cold strawberry down her torso, bisecting her.
Her gasp is audible and Charlie's hands - easy to tell: smaller and less assured when they touch her - skim along the edges of her bra teasingly.
When the strawberry hits her thong Ian slips it off her, moving the strawberry down until he slides it into her thatch of dark curls then - making her jump - swirls it over her clit.
She's breathing hard as Charlie unhooks her bra in the front, exposing her breasts. She hears him lift the wine bottle and take a drink then cover her nipple with his mouth - her breath catching at the sensation.
Her appetite’s been piqued so she reaches out and follows the line of Charlie's body, hands stuttering as Ian flicks his strawberry tongue against her: eating it then her in order, earning a low groan as her hand discovers the erection straining at Charlie's suit pants.
She frees him, maneuvering him so he ends up straddling her, her fingers finding a pot of sauce - which she's not sure until she slicks his cock with it, licks up the extra off it and swallows it down.
Salty caramel is wonderfully sweet with his salty taste as he explodes in her mouth. She'll have to thank that gourmet shop owner later.
After she licks him clean, Charlie moves off to lavish her breasts with attention again, splashing them wantonly with white wine then lapping it up with the flat of his tongue, delightfully coarse against her sensitive skin.
He splashes the last of the wine between her legs and Ian returns to his efforts with renewed vigor, licking her wine soaked pussy until she writhes helplessly on the floor: Ian's tongue, Charlie's tongue, all four hands...
She arches off the floor when Ian penetrates her with the empty wine bottle neck, almost not recognizing her own voice at the sound they wrench from her as she spasms, lost.
Her breath comes in great heavy gasps and she hears Charlie and Ian share little chuckles.
And this is only round one.
+
A quick dash under the shower spray to clean off and they're ready to begin again.
Her senses are heightened without sight and she can almost feel Charlie quivering in anticipation beside her as Ian places them in the bedroom, making them wait for him.
He returns with pillows which he gets them to kneel on, side by side.
It's his turn now.
Nikki seeks out Charlie's hand and guides it to follow hers. Parallel, their hands skate up Ian's inner thighs then jointly caress his balls before separating and letting their hands roam.
Their tongues play over his flesh and occasionally meet - pausing to share a salty kiss before going back to their task.
Charlie ends up breaking away; she hears him move, but isn't sure where.
She takes Ian into her mouth - she knows what he likes - but shortly after she starts she feels a jolt go through him like one of Charlie's wave forms, ricocheting out through Ian's body.
Charlie's low chuckle comes from behind Ian and she can guess what he might have done to get Ian to feel that way.
She works a hand around to coordinate with Charlie, squeezing his arm each time she sucks Ian down until they have Ian's body seesawing between their ministrations, garbled non-words tumbling from his lips until he wavers - hand on her shoulder - then comes hard with a groan that floats out of him then evaporates into the quiet.
Charlie silently high-fives her hand and she has to laugh, but no one seems to mind the sound.
+
The best is left for last.
Once he recovers, Ian pulls them into the bed with him, slipping each slender body between the jet black silk sheets one by one.
They curl up for a while, content to rest, let fingers roam in playful discovery while they all recuperate.
She finds a scar on Ian's thigh she'd missed before. Charlie has surprisingly muscular calves.
Ian twirls his fingers lazily through her curls one at a time. Something tells her his other hand is doing the same to Charlie's ringlets.
She ventures a hand over; she'd always wanted to touch that hair herself anyway.
It's surprisingly soft, not coarse like Ian's, and she bumps into Ian's hand as they tangle their way through the jungle of wild curls, mussing them up with delight.
Ian disappears from the bed briefly, with a touch to let her know he'll be right back, and she and Charlie entwine easily - enjoying lazy kisses while he's gone.
She's never been close enough to Charlie to notice, but he smells good. It's probably just shampoo, but she likes it - nuzzling her nose in his hair, behind his ear, nibbling along his jawline.
Then another scent hits the air, a familiar one. It's a special lubricant Ian found overseas and brought home. It has an oddly herbal, but not unpleasant scent to it. He told her it was supposed to make the user feel more. She'd scoffed until he'd tried it on her. She made him find a place to order it in the states lest they run out, the slight warming tingling sensation a nice treat.
She hears the jar opening and feels his fingers slide between her legs, preparing her. Charlie's fingers meet Ian's as his other hand caresses a still sensitive nipple.
The jar closes and she hears something like a cap flipping open. This time Ian's other hand joins in, slicking a lube cool finger at her ass - the normal kind of lube she assumes.
Between Ian's fingers filling her and Charlie playing with her clit and nipple she's afraid she'll come too soon, too quickly.
She almost snaps her fingers, but Ian withdraws and she feels him brush Charlie's hand away - not in admonition, more a signal to wait. Charlie decides to switch to his mouth, laving each areola slowly with his tongue then blowing cool air on it to make her shiver.
She senses Ian moving around, changing sides of the bed and feels Charlie shift a little then gasp. She lets her hands search them out and before her hand finds Ian’s head and her fingernails scrape up the back of his short hair the wet sounds of Ian's mouth tell her that he's sucking Charlie off.
She wants desperately to sneak a peek - to watch Ian with another man; the idea turns her on so desperately. She squirms impatiently, a hand on each of them, but Ian is apparently determined to make her wait her turn.
Another shift and she follows their movements with her fingers. Ian's kneeling on the bed; it's Charlie's turn to suck him to hardness.
She skims her finger pads down Charlie's body, wrapping her fingers around his length - jacking him slowly enough not to distract from what he's doing, but enough to sustain his interest.
Out of all the men she’s been with, Ian's one of the most vocal during sex. He's clearly biting back much of his natural noise for this session, but a moan escapes his lips at whatever Charlie's doing to him. Clearly she's going to have to discreetly ask him for pointers later.
More movement and she hears condom wrappers being opened. She withdraws, reclining, giving them time to get gloved up - relaxing since her one concern has been addressed yet buzzing with anticipation at the thought of what’s to come.
Unfortunately, being apart from them means she misses whatever non-verbal communication passes between them and they attack her at once, in sync, ravishing her body and overwhelming her with sensation. Two tongues, twenty fingers, twin hard cocks... They're all over her - licking, stroking, nipping with teeth, flicking her clit with dueling fingertips.
She lets Ian roll her onto her side, bend her leg and they're both there at once: Charlie's rapid tongue diving into her sweetness as Ian's tongue sends jolts through her probing her ass.
It's too much and she's cresting before she can even think to fingersnap her way out of it, trembling through the orgasm and the aftermath wondering if they'll stop.
They do, but only to change position - at some signal she misses.
Without giving her time for a breath, Charlie pulls her to him and slides inside, filling her in one stroke.
Her mouth falls open as the herbal lube and Charlie's thick cock do the trick - setting her body alight once more despite the fact she's not even come all the way down yet.
Then Ian nudges at her ass and her breath catches: waiting...
He breathes hot on her neck - one long slow exhalation as a reminder for her to relax and she does, echoing his sigh as she releases her tension enough for him to slide inside.
And he's in.
She's never felt this sensation before - being so incredibly filled. She has no words and some part of her brain feels like Charlie's original request was a good idea because she's pretty sure she'd be non-verbal at this point anyway.
And then they move.
She's not sure whose arm her nails are digging in, she doesn't care how much noise she's making. This is seven kinds of intense and it's pushing her past what she ever thought was more than she could handle. Every nerve ending is aflame; every coordinated thrust makes her cry out - in joy, in wonder, in absolute pleasure.
She thinks she can't take anymore, even as they speed up - rocking her body helplessly between them as they seek their own release, and then their hands get back into the mix.
Someone sneaks a finger to her clit, someone tweaks a nipple.
She thinks it's Charlie's shoulder she bites down on trying to staunch her scream; she doesn't care.
It's like an explosion, more powerful than anything she's ever experienced and it keeps going and going, so long she finally has to scream aloud - emptying her lungs as her body is used up - the tinder in the fire they immolate her in with the friction of their bodies.
Both men stiffen in tandem and they all go taut at once: Ian finally caving to give voice to his completion as Charlie breaks his own rule, cursing under his breath as he clutches her tightly.
They're a panting mess afterwards as they recover, the rhythm of inhalations broken with breathless gasps as they each pull out.
She thinks Ian will let them remove the blindfolds now, but he doesn't.
They curl up together with Nikki still in the middle and, incredibly sated, drop off one by one.
+
She wakes, sans blindfold, to an empty and incredibly messed up bed - sheets askew one way, duvet another, pillows on the floor.
Her robe has been laid out for her though and after a trip to the bathroom she slips it on, the siren aroma of coffee and the tantalizing sizzle of bacon luring her to her kitchen.
Ian's in his boxers frying bacon and Charlie's sitting at her kitchen table in a thick black robe that had to have come from his overnight bag. He smiles and there's no awkwardness there so she smiles back with sleepy affection. Ian turns from the fry pan to give her a welcoming grin as well. Apparently the no talking rule is still in effect.
Charlie rises and fixes her a cup of coffee. It's evident that Don's not the only observant Eppes; he makes it perfect, just how she always takes it.
Ian removes the cooked bacon from the pan and puts it on paper towels to drain before putting more in the pan to cook. When he holds a slice up to tempt her, Charlie snatches it playfully and takes a bite off the end before bringing it to Nikki.
He sidles in close, brushing their hips together as Ian watches, smirking.
Charlie skims the bacon tantalizingly over her lips, daring her.
Dark eyes meet beneath dark curls.
She takes the bait.
Bacon flavored kisses end up tasting as good as strawberry ones.
But she wants coffee and breakfast too.
They've got all day to play, plus she's got a whole second set of sheets they've yet to mess up.
+
Everything's normal Monday at work. New case, new math from Charlie, they serve a few warrants and by Thursday they have suspects in custody.
Charlie and Ian have apparently been emailing without her, though she's not sure why she should be surprised by that - it's not like she and Ian haven't been having email and chat sex conversations for weeks before he came along.
But Charlie must have sent him pictures from his digital camera - mostly of the team as she sees in the forward from EdgeCubed.
But Ian plucks one of them and puts it in his email to her.
So she gets just the photo from him and a typed question mark.
It's a photo of Don. A head shot. Mostly from the back.
His dark hair's getting long.
There are curls.
=
Crossposted to numb3rs_slash
Title: Jet Black
Series/Universe: Jet Black
Pairing/Characters: Ian/Nikki/Charlie
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Sniper Zero, High Exposure, Angels and Devils
Summary: Nikki discovers Ian has a thing for dark curls that just can’t be denied
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
Ian has an eye; Nikki's observant enough to notice this.
She'd expected a sniper/tracker to be especially aware of his surroundings, but after a few dates she figures out his type: dark curls.
It's harmless and it answers the question as to how he picked her out of a crowd of FBI agents who would more than willingly put money down to be bedded by the legendary Edgerton. Colby had told her there were stories of his prowess way back in Afghanistan. He flushed crimson when she told him the stories were not wrong. It was amusing to see him stammer and suddenly pretend he needed to be elsewhere, even if the elsewhere she figured he ended up was the men’s room.
And then one day she catches Ian's roving eye coming to rest on a mop of unruly dark curls.
At work.
He notices her looking and is unashamed; that's his way. Instead, his eyes flick between her and Charlie in a sort of question she doesn't get until he raises his eyebrow at her and smiles that wolfish grin that he normally uses to tell her she's in for an epic evening.
The air leaves her lungs all at once. The idea of a third doesn't shock her, but Ian picking a man? The boss' brother? Clearly he's gone off. If there's anyone who's verboten in all of Don's domain it's Charlie.
And yet, the appetite for dark curls cannot be denied.
+
Ian is evil; this is news to no one, especially Nikki.
But when he starts talking dirty in her ear as he fucks her, bent over the hotel room desk, he starts telling her all the things the two of them could do to Charlie if they had him alone and better yet, what the two men could do to her.
It's so hot she comes twice - once from Ian's thick cock pounding into her while lethal fingers make her want to die and a second time where she's overwhelmed by the stark visual Ian's painted of both he and Charlie filling her at once - four hands pleasuring her right out of her mind.
She's sold after that, skin almost itching for twenty brilliant digits sliding over her quivering flesh, seeking her out beneath her favorite silk sheets, sending her over the edge in unison. This, she will remember.
That is if Ian can possibly talk Charlie into it.
+
It's decided before she even has time to worry about it.
Ian casually mentions over dinner to keep the weekend free and then pushes over a box - not wrapped, but it's a nice box from a high end store. She peeks inside and finds a new set of silk sheets, just like her existing ones, only not creamy ivory. They're jet black.
Apparently this is Edgerton-speak for 'prepare yourself for a long weekend in bed.'
She can barely sit still for the rest of the meal and she all but pounces on him once they get through the door of his hotel room. If she's going to risk sharing him, she's going to make sure he remembers she’s damn good all by herself first.
+
It goes without saying there will be no discussion of this at work - ever.
Nikki already has a special free email account on the Internet just to talk to Ian and apparently Charlie made one too, just for this: EdgeCubed.
They work out the arrangements in advance. Each of them has a request, to which the others must agree.
Nikki's request is condoms - no exceptions.
Charlie's request is that no one speak while the three of them are together. Ian agrees on the condition that anyone may safeword if fingersnapping doesn't work. Everyone finds that acceptable.
Ian's request surprises her even more than Charlie's odd request: blindfolds - for all of them. To be put on while everyone is still clothed, before anything begins. Charlie doesn't balk, but asks about when they come off. Ian's answer, enigmatic as always, is that they'll come off when he says they come off, or when someone safewords.
Charlie accepts. Nikki, breathless with anticipation, replies to all with a simple 'yes.'
+
The jet black sheets look amazing with her tawny animal print duvet. She'd gotten the ivory to go with the earthy tan color, but the black sheets pick up the black markings in the duvet, making the bed look even more exotic.
She splurges and hires a cleaning service to come over Friday night and they scour her place until it's cleaner than when she moved in.
She fills her refrigerator with a veritable 9 1/2 Weeks feast. Even if they don't get to it at all she's got Ian in town for the next week. Those strawberries won't go to waste, not a chance.
She eats like a bird all day, pacing, checking her email - afraid Charlie will cancel last minute when it's her who's anxious about this whole thing.
The little voice in the back of her head is convinced Don will find out and ship her off to Organized Crime or worse, Orange County. Liz transferred in from behind the Orange Curtain and she's forever saying how grateful she is to have been rescued from the homogenized suburbs.
Surprisingly, the little voice doesn't seem to have any protest when it comes to having sex with Charlie past that. She's seen Charlie focused one hundred percent on a problem and it gave her chills. She's been with Ian long enough to know what it's like to be on the receiving end of that laser sharp focus and doubling it? It makes that little voice just recede into the white noise.
Impatient, she emails Ian a partial list of what's in her refrigerator.
She almost blushes when he replies that he can't wait to lick her strawberry.
One hour to go. More pacing. And maybe a strawberry or two.
+
Ian arrives first; he's good like that.
He'd never make her or Charlie uncomfortable by leaving them alone, wondering what to do.
He places a finger on her lips to remind her not to speak so she pulls him into to the kitchen and drags a red ripe strawberry over her red painted lower lip to entice him.
He wags a finger as if to chide her for starting without Charlie, but he still steals the strawberry, eating it in an almost pornographic fashion as she watches, heat rising to her skin already.
He gets his bag of tricks, as she calls it, set up in the bedroom - laying out three identical black satin blindfolds in a row on her dresser.
Her fingers graze over one, almost as silky as her sheets and probably just as sensual. They've blindfolded each other before, that was nothing, but the idea of all three of them? She was extra glad she'd tidied up the place so no one would step on an errant CD at a bad time.
The top of the hour comes and goes; Charlie's late.
+
The doorbell rings at ten after, so not too bad.
Ian opens her apartment door for her, shares a nod with Charlie before stepping back to admit him.
Nikki has to blink a moment to make sure it's the same man.
Gone are the slovenly clothes, the untucked shirt, the day old stubble. Charlie looks amazing. He has on a tailored black suit with a dark purple shirt that suits his coloring wonderfully - the open collar displaying a hint of chest hair a visual bonus. He's freshly shaven and his dark curls are glossy and neatly styled. No bedhead in sight. Not yet anyway.
Ian closes and locks the door, takes Charlie's overnight bag from him and wordlessly beckons them both into the bedroom.
He shows Charlie where he's setting his bag, next to his own, then gestures to them to remove their socks and shoes, which he tucks safely away under her bed. Ian slips off his coat and - in a sight that sends a rush through her body - he slips Charlie's coat off him in one smooth, almost intimate looking motion. Another gesture gets them to go wash their hands in the adjoining bathroom.
Upon their return, Ian points to the blindfolds, his eyes questioning.
Charlie nods then looks to her. She nods as well.
Ian fastens the first around his own eyes then lifts it up just enough for him to see enough to put theirs on. She watches him sidle up behind Charlie, who leans back against him - the spark between them clear, making it obvious to her that these two would have explored their attraction even if she hadn't been in the picture.
Once Charlie is bound with black satin, it's her turn.
Ian gives her a look - last chance to back out. She holds her head high and lets him wrap her eyes, blocking out all light, all vision.
Then it's all darkness. No light, no sound.
Just the anticipation of Ian's touch, his command, following whatever he envisions for the three of them this evening makes every nerve ending hum.
She feels Ian reach for her hand; he puts Charlie's in it.
Charlie squeezes, whether to reassure her or himself, she's not sure.
But she's connected to him.
They're both waiting now.
+
He leads them back out to the kitchen; sits them down on the rug in the middle of the floor.
He opens the refrigerator and tugs her near, asking her with his hands which items to pull out. She feels a little chill so near to the open door, but it's more than canceled out by the heat they're all putting out.
They start, of course, with the strawberries.
They're cold on her tongue and burst into flavor as she chews.
Foreign fingers find their way up her arm, her neck, find her lips and then Charlie's mouth is berry flavored too. He kisses so differently from Ian, not softer, just less rushed, but every bit as ardent.
Her fingers find their way into Ian's mouth and he sucks them clean, polishing them off with little flicks of his tongue that are like promises of what’s to come.
She thinks she grabs the hot fudge sauce next, but she's wrong: it's the salted caramel sauce the gourmet shop owner swore was exquisite. It's even better on Ian's salty neck. She unbuttons his shirt and pushes it open, trailing a line down his bare chest then licking it up as she feels Charlie's hand searching for the jar beside her.
When she sits up Charlie artfully paints a stripe down into her cleavage then chases it with his tongue.
She hears Ian rummaging in the refrigerator without her and hears containers being opened. He starts feeding them both in earnest: cold roast beef thinly sliced, aged smoked cheese that melts on her palate, fresh pears - juicy and sweet.
Somehow he gets the bottle of wine open and they drink lustily from the bottle, passing it carefully between them.
It's only when Charlie apparently spills some that he breaks the silence with a laugh that almost startles her. The silence had not been strange until broken.
She hears him taking his shirt off and offers her hands to help. His chest is well furred, like Don's - no problem telling Charlie and Ian apart there. He's far more compact than Ian, but fit, nicely so - even though it had been hard to tell beneath his easygoing academic attire.
She finds the hot fudge sauce this time and smudges a loaded thumb along that strong jaw and down his Adam's apple before pushing him to the floor to lick it off.
He shoves her shirt the rest of the way off as Ian works on shimmying her skirt off her hips.
Down to her bra and thong, she shivers a little in front of the cold air of the refrigerator - more so when Ian lays her down and draws a cold strawberry down her torso, bisecting her.
Her gasp is audible and Charlie's hands - easy to tell: smaller and less assured when they touch her - skim along the edges of her bra teasingly.
When the strawberry hits her thong Ian slips it off her, moving the strawberry down until he slides it into her thatch of dark curls then - making her jump - swirls it over her clit.
She's breathing hard as Charlie unhooks her bra in the front, exposing her breasts. She hears him lift the wine bottle and take a drink then cover her nipple with his mouth - her breath catching at the sensation.
Her appetite’s been piqued so she reaches out and follows the line of Charlie's body, hands stuttering as Ian flicks his strawberry tongue against her: eating it then her in order, earning a low groan as her hand discovers the erection straining at Charlie's suit pants.
She frees him, maneuvering him so he ends up straddling her, her fingers finding a pot of sauce - which she's not sure until she slicks his cock with it, licks up the extra off it and swallows it down.
Salty caramel is wonderfully sweet with his salty taste as he explodes in her mouth. She'll have to thank that gourmet shop owner later.
After she licks him clean, Charlie moves off to lavish her breasts with attention again, splashing them wantonly with white wine then lapping it up with the flat of his tongue, delightfully coarse against her sensitive skin.
He splashes the last of the wine between her legs and Ian returns to his efforts with renewed vigor, licking her wine soaked pussy until she writhes helplessly on the floor: Ian's tongue, Charlie's tongue, all four hands...
She arches off the floor when Ian penetrates her with the empty wine bottle neck, almost not recognizing her own voice at the sound they wrench from her as she spasms, lost.
Her breath comes in great heavy gasps and she hears Charlie and Ian share little chuckles.
And this is only round one.
+
A quick dash under the shower spray to clean off and they're ready to begin again.
Her senses are heightened without sight and she can almost feel Charlie quivering in anticipation beside her as Ian places them in the bedroom, making them wait for him.
He returns with pillows which he gets them to kneel on, side by side.
It's his turn now.
Nikki seeks out Charlie's hand and guides it to follow hers. Parallel, their hands skate up Ian's inner thighs then jointly caress his balls before separating and letting their hands roam.
Their tongues play over his flesh and occasionally meet - pausing to share a salty kiss before going back to their task.
Charlie ends up breaking away; she hears him move, but isn't sure where.
She takes Ian into her mouth - she knows what he likes - but shortly after she starts she feels a jolt go through him like one of Charlie's wave forms, ricocheting out through Ian's body.
Charlie's low chuckle comes from behind Ian and she can guess what he might have done to get Ian to feel that way.
She works a hand around to coordinate with Charlie, squeezing his arm each time she sucks Ian down until they have Ian's body seesawing between their ministrations, garbled non-words tumbling from his lips until he wavers - hand on her shoulder - then comes hard with a groan that floats out of him then evaporates into the quiet.
Charlie silently high-fives her hand and she has to laugh, but no one seems to mind the sound.
+
The best is left for last.
Once he recovers, Ian pulls them into the bed with him, slipping each slender body between the jet black silk sheets one by one.
They curl up for a while, content to rest, let fingers roam in playful discovery while they all recuperate.
She finds a scar on Ian's thigh she'd missed before. Charlie has surprisingly muscular calves.
Ian twirls his fingers lazily through her curls one at a time. Something tells her his other hand is doing the same to Charlie's ringlets.
She ventures a hand over; she'd always wanted to touch that hair herself anyway.
It's surprisingly soft, not coarse like Ian's, and she bumps into Ian's hand as they tangle their way through the jungle of wild curls, mussing them up with delight.
Ian disappears from the bed briefly, with a touch to let her know he'll be right back, and she and Charlie entwine easily - enjoying lazy kisses while he's gone.
She's never been close enough to Charlie to notice, but he smells good. It's probably just shampoo, but she likes it - nuzzling her nose in his hair, behind his ear, nibbling along his jawline.
Then another scent hits the air, a familiar one. It's a special lubricant Ian found overseas and brought home. It has an oddly herbal, but not unpleasant scent to it. He told her it was supposed to make the user feel more. She'd scoffed until he'd tried it on her. She made him find a place to order it in the states lest they run out, the slight warming tingling sensation a nice treat.
She hears the jar opening and feels his fingers slide between her legs, preparing her. Charlie's fingers meet Ian's as his other hand caresses a still sensitive nipple.
The jar closes and she hears something like a cap flipping open. This time Ian's other hand joins in, slicking a lube cool finger at her ass - the normal kind of lube she assumes.
Between Ian's fingers filling her and Charlie playing with her clit and nipple she's afraid she'll come too soon, too quickly.
She almost snaps her fingers, but Ian withdraws and she feels him brush Charlie's hand away - not in admonition, more a signal to wait. Charlie decides to switch to his mouth, laving each areola slowly with his tongue then blowing cool air on it to make her shiver.
She senses Ian moving around, changing sides of the bed and feels Charlie shift a little then gasp. She lets her hands search them out and before her hand finds Ian’s head and her fingernails scrape up the back of his short hair the wet sounds of Ian's mouth tell her that he's sucking Charlie off.
She wants desperately to sneak a peek - to watch Ian with another man; the idea turns her on so desperately. She squirms impatiently, a hand on each of them, but Ian is apparently determined to make her wait her turn.
Another shift and she follows their movements with her fingers. Ian's kneeling on the bed; it's Charlie's turn to suck him to hardness.
She skims her finger pads down Charlie's body, wrapping her fingers around his length - jacking him slowly enough not to distract from what he's doing, but enough to sustain his interest.
Out of all the men she’s been with, Ian's one of the most vocal during sex. He's clearly biting back much of his natural noise for this session, but a moan escapes his lips at whatever Charlie's doing to him. Clearly she's going to have to discreetly ask him for pointers later.
More movement and she hears condom wrappers being opened. She withdraws, reclining, giving them time to get gloved up - relaxing since her one concern has been addressed yet buzzing with anticipation at the thought of what’s to come.
Unfortunately, being apart from them means she misses whatever non-verbal communication passes between them and they attack her at once, in sync, ravishing her body and overwhelming her with sensation. Two tongues, twenty fingers, twin hard cocks... They're all over her - licking, stroking, nipping with teeth, flicking her clit with dueling fingertips.
She lets Ian roll her onto her side, bend her leg and they're both there at once: Charlie's rapid tongue diving into her sweetness as Ian's tongue sends jolts through her probing her ass.
It's too much and she's cresting before she can even think to fingersnap her way out of it, trembling through the orgasm and the aftermath wondering if they'll stop.
They do, but only to change position - at some signal she misses.
Without giving her time for a breath, Charlie pulls her to him and slides inside, filling her in one stroke.
Her mouth falls open as the herbal lube and Charlie's thick cock do the trick - setting her body alight once more despite the fact she's not even come all the way down yet.
Then Ian nudges at her ass and her breath catches: waiting...
He breathes hot on her neck - one long slow exhalation as a reminder for her to relax and she does, echoing his sigh as she releases her tension enough for him to slide inside.
And he's in.
She's never felt this sensation before - being so incredibly filled. She has no words and some part of her brain feels like Charlie's original request was a good idea because she's pretty sure she'd be non-verbal at this point anyway.
And then they move.
She's not sure whose arm her nails are digging in, she doesn't care how much noise she's making. This is seven kinds of intense and it's pushing her past what she ever thought was more than she could handle. Every nerve ending is aflame; every coordinated thrust makes her cry out - in joy, in wonder, in absolute pleasure.
She thinks she can't take anymore, even as they speed up - rocking her body helplessly between them as they seek their own release, and then their hands get back into the mix.
Someone sneaks a finger to her clit, someone tweaks a nipple.
She thinks it's Charlie's shoulder she bites down on trying to staunch her scream; she doesn't care.
It's like an explosion, more powerful than anything she's ever experienced and it keeps going and going, so long she finally has to scream aloud - emptying her lungs as her body is used up - the tinder in the fire they immolate her in with the friction of their bodies.
Both men stiffen in tandem and they all go taut at once: Ian finally caving to give voice to his completion as Charlie breaks his own rule, cursing under his breath as he clutches her tightly.
They're a panting mess afterwards as they recover, the rhythm of inhalations broken with breathless gasps as they each pull out.
She thinks Ian will let them remove the blindfolds now, but he doesn't.
They curl up together with Nikki still in the middle and, incredibly sated, drop off one by one.
+
She wakes, sans blindfold, to an empty and incredibly messed up bed - sheets askew one way, duvet another, pillows on the floor.
Her robe has been laid out for her though and after a trip to the bathroom she slips it on, the siren aroma of coffee and the tantalizing sizzle of bacon luring her to her kitchen.
Ian's in his boxers frying bacon and Charlie's sitting at her kitchen table in a thick black robe that had to have come from his overnight bag. He smiles and there's no awkwardness there so she smiles back with sleepy affection. Ian turns from the fry pan to give her a welcoming grin as well. Apparently the no talking rule is still in effect.
Charlie rises and fixes her a cup of coffee. It's evident that Don's not the only observant Eppes; he makes it perfect, just how she always takes it.
Ian removes the cooked bacon from the pan and puts it on paper towels to drain before putting more in the pan to cook. When he holds a slice up to tempt her, Charlie snatches it playfully and takes a bite off the end before bringing it to Nikki.
He sidles in close, brushing their hips together as Ian watches, smirking.
Charlie skims the bacon tantalizingly over her lips, daring her.
Dark eyes meet beneath dark curls.
She takes the bait.
Bacon flavored kisses end up tasting as good as strawberry ones.
But she wants coffee and breakfast too.
They've got all day to play, plus she's got a whole second set of sheets they've yet to mess up.
+
Everything's normal Monday at work. New case, new math from Charlie, they serve a few warrants and by Thursday they have suspects in custody.
Charlie and Ian have apparently been emailing without her, though she's not sure why she should be surprised by that - it's not like she and Ian haven't been having email and chat sex conversations for weeks before he came along.
But Charlie must have sent him pictures from his digital camera - mostly of the team as she sees in the forward from EdgeCubed.
But Ian plucks one of them and puts it in his email to her.
So she gets just the photo from him and a typed question mark.
It's a photo of Don. A head shot. Mostly from the back.
His dark hair's getting long.
There are curls.
=