Infatuation - an ALAN RICKMAN fanfiction

Chapter 4 - Release

[M as always!] Little note at the end of this chapter too

Olivia's emerald eyes glittered in curiosity spanning the swishly furnished pad of Alan's Kensington home. She could have guessed he lived in a part of the city like this. The street reminded her of Cherry Tree Lane from Mary Poppins, lined with perfectly manicured trees with quaint little fences wrapped around them. An expensive car was parked at the foot of the steps to each cleanly white painted town-house along the curving road.

A cream carpet lined the spacious living room which could be seen from the hall – enough to notify Olivia that she should remove her sodden boots.

"You can leave them here to dry," Alan offered, taking off his own shoes. He helped her off with her wet jacket before his own. Olivia, unaccustomed to such things, smiled to herself behind her wet hair. Sweet, she thought. Her clothing underneath was just as sodden as her jacket – he'd noticed and offered her a place to hang them up in a spare bedroom he directed her to.

Olivia's eyes wondered behind him – the times she wasn't eyeing his backside atleast – looking for signs of a feminine touch. The place was beautifully decorated, modern, yet incorporated homely items and furnishings, but there was nothing that screamed 'put here by the wife,' no flowers or ornamental pieces that were especially feminine. There were plenty of books however, some which were open and scattered about the coffee table. Alan lead Olivia up to the second floor of his three-floored town house and into a spare bedroom with an ensuite shower.

"How's this?" he asked. "You can sleep here, warm yourself up..." he gestured to the ensuite shower and took a fluffy towel from the drawer.

"I thought maybe you could do that part," she smiled. "The warming up..."

Alan dropped a towel in her arms and gave her a gave a look of caution.

"Why are you looking at me like that? We aren't in class anymore."

"Go and take a shower, Olivia..."

Alan's eyes rolled as he closed the door behind him, thinking that bringing her home was going to be more bloody trouble than it was worth. Still, the thought of her roaming around the streets of London in the pouring down rain didn't sit well with him either. At least here she was safe.

Olivia showered and dressed herself in a spaghetti strapped top and a little pair of shorts. As usual, whenever she dressed for bed, she left off her underwear and in this situation it only seemed fitting to do so.

With bare feet, and towel dried curls, she walked through to the living room to find him. He was on the phone sitting in none other than a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Olivia's mind exploded as he got up and she witnessed the delicious print of his cock against the fabric. Is he playing with me? He must know how appreciative a woman is of a well-endowed man in grey sweatpants. Olivia enjoyed the show and wound her way silkily around the furniture until she was next to him in the kitchen. Talk about 'dangling a carrot.' What a tease. Involuntarily she trailed her tongue to her lip with a little smile and reached for the string on his sweatpants. Gosh he was delicious – so much taller than her with the kind of chest she'd loved to bury herself into, nipping at his flesh. Alan gave her an inpatient look and removed her hand, but Olivia playfully placed it back with a little giggle

"Oh you love it really," she whispered, grazing his chest with her nails.

Alan ended the call, placing the phone down on the counter top and directed his full attention to this pain in the butt in front of him, holding back her hands, but he soon let go, realising that she liked it.

"I'm sorry. That's twice now I've interrupted your calls. What do I call you here anyway – do I call you Alan, or do I call you...sir?"

"Alan," he replied blankly. "And I think it's about time this little charade stopped."

Just inches in front of him, Olivia put on her most seductive voice.

"Even with your little wife out of town?"

"You needn't search for an ulterior motive for me bringing you here. There isn't one," he informed her. "In fact I believe we were supposed to be discussing earlier matters."

Olivia wasn't buying it and continued to play, begging to differ

"Well sometimes things are said better without words. Besides, it would be fun to continue what we started, wouldn't it?"