Wild Wild Mulder

by OKayVal

Title: Wild Wild Mulder
Author: OKayVal
Email: okayval@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17
Category: Story, Romance, PWP!
Archive: Honored; just tell me where
Pairings: Mulder/Scully
Spoilers: Closure
Disclaimer: Not mine, you know the drill. Summary: Sequel to "Wildwash."
A conversation about cowboys gives
Mulder an idea.

Thanks to xdksfan for the super beta,
and to mimic117 for letting me borrow. . . well, she knows!

This one is for Tali, with love--not only is she queen of the stalkers, she's queen of the betas. My fic and I would be lost without her. Happy Happy Birthday!!

"I wanna be a cowboy
And you can be my cowgirl..."

He's intrigued, she can tell. Has he been thinking about this since they left Wildwash? His glance alternates between the road ahead of him and back to her. She can't help but smile.

"Really, Mulder. Chaps."

He keeps his gaze on her for a moment, then turns his attention back to the road. She studies his profile and tries to wrap her mind around everything that has happened over the last twenty-four hours. A very emotionally charged twenty-four hours. Her skin still tingles from his touch and she hopes that feeling never disappears. And now she's admitted to him that chaps turn her on. It had somehow come up during their conversation about cowboys back in Wildwash. She thought cowboys looked mighty fine in chaps. She'd wondered once about how Mulder would look in chaps, then dismissed it as an unobtainable fantasy. But there was a time when she thought making love with Mulder was also just a fantasy. Now it's real, so very real. She closes her eyes, letting the static on the radio hum along with her memories, and dozes off.

Her nap ends with their arrival at the car rental lot and Mulder's gentle brush against her cheek, the way he always wakes her.

"Scully? We're here. What were you dreaming about? Must have been awfully good, by the look on your face."

"Oh, it was, Mulder." She chooses not to divulge any more.

Their flight back is free from turbulence and she's able to catch another catnap. Mulder drives her home from the airport; he's been strangely quiet for most of the journey home, but she assumes he's still processing what he's learned about Samantha. She unlocks her apartment door and looks at him. He hovers behind her, uncertain, almost nervous. She knows what he's waiting for. She pushes the door open, steps inside, and turns to face him.

"Aren't you coming in?"

It's all she needs to say. Mulder crosses the threshold and shuts the door behind him. She sets her luggage down and walks to her bedroom, Mulder close at her side. Last night they shared their first encounter in the dull surroundings of a Victorville motel, but tonight she will have him in her own bed.

And have him she does; as they enter the room, Mulder grabs her arm and pulls her to him for a kiss. She expects hot and wild like their first time, but instead he takes his time, kissing her slowly and deeply; she feels the heat spreading through her with every stroke of his tongue against hers. His hard need presses against her belly and she trembles with sweet anticipation.

Mulder breaks the kiss and begins to unbutton her blouse. She starts to help him but he stops her.

"Let me do this."

She lets him remove her blouse, her bra, her slacks, her panties. He moves slowly, deliberately, stopping to kiss her inflamed skin as he removes each item of clothing. Finally naked, she pushes Mulder closer to the bed and starts to undress him. She tries to follow the pace he's set, but she can't do it; the ache between her legs is delicious but she needs to have him inside her soon. Once his shirt is off and her hands can roam his muscular chest, she abandons her self-control and yanks roughly at his belt. Mulder laughs but he's too aroused himself to let her struggle, so he helps her with the belt. She does just fine with the zipper, and Mulder soon stands at her bed, hard and ready for her.

He's given up on the pacing, too, pulling her onto the bed with him. She settles on her back, and he moves between her legs and pushes inside her. Now he is fast and deliberate, and that delicious ache builds with each stroke, until it shatters her, and she cries out at the force of it. Mulder thrusts once more, sharp and deep, and shatters with her.

The alarm buzzes and she slaps at it, her eyes almost closing again before she remembers Mulder. She rolls over to find him already awake, watching her steadily with those kaleidoscope eyes.

"Good morning, sunshine." He rolls toward her for a kiss, nipping at her lips, but she stops him with her finger.

"No time. We'll be late for work, Agent Mulder."

He falls back against the pillow with a groan. She fights the urge to tickle him because she knows the horseplay will turn into foreplay and then they really will be late for work. Instead she gets out of bed and out of Mulder's reach.

"You're no fun anymore, Scully." He pretends to pout and she throws a towel at him.

"Shower. Now."

Mulder realizes he's not going to win this one and gets out of bed. She leaves the room, sneaking just a quick peek at his beautiful naked form. No sense in tempting herself with a longer look; they really do have to get to the office.

After spending all morning finishing their report on the events in California for Skinner, Mulder shuts down his computer and dons his jacket.

"Scully, I'm taking the rest of the day off."

"Why? Are you OK, Mulder?" He'd seemed fine yesterday, but maybe working on this report had brought back some of the pain, and he wasn't as free as he'd first thought.

"I'm fine," he says, flashing white teeth at her. "I just have some things I need to take care of. I'll call you later."

He's gone, just like that. She's annoyed; after the last couple of days, why would he feel he still has to keep any secrets from her? She decides he must just need some time alone to gather his thoughts about Samantha, so she ignores her frustration and turns back to her computer.

It's well past five o'clock and she's tired of waiting for Mulder's call. She closes up the office and heads to her car. As she makes the turn out of the parking garage, her cell phone rings.

"Hey, Scully, it's me."

"Mulder, where are you?"

"I need you to come and get me."

"Why? What happened to your car?"

He doesn't answer her question. "I'm at a place called Rusty's. M Street and Charles. See you soon."

"Mulder, are you drunk?" she says to the dial tone. She stares at her cell phone. Damn it! Why did she think he would be any less annoying once they became lovers? *Mulder is Mulder; you fell for the whole package, Dana,* she tells herself as she navigates her car toward Charles.

M Street and Charles is a busy corner and Rusty's, she discovers, is a country/western bar. What on earth is Mulder doing way out here? She finds a parking space and approaches the bar. There's nothing unusual about the building, so she opens the door and is surprised to find that the bar is empty. Only a few lights are on and music plays softly from the juke box, but there's nobody on the dance floor and the high, round stools at the long, gleaming bar are empty.

"Mulder?" she calls out. Her hand strays to her weapon.

Someone emerges from the shadows at the back of the bar and walks slowly toward her. She relaxes her grip on her gun, realizing it's Mulder. But when he steps into the light, she cannot believe her eyes.

Mulder is wearing chaps.

He's dressed in his familiar black t-shirt, jeans, and athletic shoes. But riding over his jeans are a pair of brown suede chaps. They fit him just as she'd imagined they would, covering all of his lower body except for his crotch, which is more prominent than usual. She cannot take her eyes off him.

He walks past her, his eyes reflecting his pleasure at her reaction, and goes to lock the front door. Her eyes remain fixed on him and she gets a good look at the rear view. The chaps make Mulder's ass look mighty fine, too. It's getting rather warm in Rusty's, she notes.

Mulder strolls past her again, giving her another chance to check him out from both sides. Good thing they are in a bar; she is probably going to need a drink very soon.

Mulder stops at the bar and leans against it. "Howdy, Scully," he says.

"What--how--where did you find those?"

"This is Washington DC, Scully. Our nation's capital has many resources."

"What about this bar?"

"Old friend from college is a co-owner. I owe him big time."

"You did all this for me?"

"Of course." His eyes almost gleam in the dim light and she can't stop staring at him. He's dark and exciting and she has to touch him.

She walks toward him and runs her fingers over the soft suede covering his right thigh. She traces the edge up and around his crotch. Her fingertips brush across his zipper and she feels him harden. She repeats the tracing motion on the other leg, moving her fingers back around to his erection, now large and straining against his jeans. She can barely breathe, he is so beautiful. She runs her fingertips across it again, then cups her hand around it.

Mulder shudders. "Scully," he says, his voice thick. She squeezes, just a little, and he moans and grabs her wrist. His eyes bore into hers and his hand is hot on her skin. He leans down and crushes his mouth to hers, and she parts her lips so she can taste him. He pulls her hand away from his erection so that he can press himself fully against her. His weight pushes her into the bar and she feels it digging into her back, but she doesn't care. His lips leave hers and begin a journey to her jaw line and down the side of her neck. His tongue flicks along her collarbone and trails down to the neckline of her blouse, making her squirm. Her breasts ache to be touched.

Mulder suddenly stops the kisses and lifts her up onto the bar. She unbuttons her blouse and his mouth resumes its journey, across the swell of her breasts and down to the front of her bra, where he licks at her tight nipple, poking through the lacy material.

She will not survive another slow seduction, exquisite as it may be. She is so hot, so wet. She lifts his head from her breast and tugs at his t-shirt. He gets the message and pulls it off. He reaches for the buckle on the chaps and she stops him.

"Can you leave them on?"

He looks at her with wonder, amazed at how aroused she is, then pulls down his zipper and tries to free his erection. But it's awkward; he's too large and too hard, so the chaps must come off. While Mulder sheds his clothes, she does the same, kicking her pants and panties to the floor. She spreads her legs so Mulder can stand between them, and they realize that the bar is too high and he can't reach her. His eyes grow wild and she looks around for something to help.

"Bar stool?" she offers. The seat is round and wide. Mulder pulls a stool over, sits down, and lifts her off the bar and onto his lap. She straddles him, bracing her feet on the rung at the base of the stool. She rises over his hard cock and feels the tip prod against her wet entrance. He slides inside and she gasps as his sweet thickness fills her. Mulder leans forward and braces his arms against the bar, encircling her between them. She grips his arms for balance and starts to ride him. He cannot sit still and he thrusts up to meet her. She takes him as deep as she can into her wet heat. They move together, faster and faster, and when he comes, his heat floods through her in huge waves that send her swirling over the edge.

They sit on the stool for several minutes, still joined, trying to get their breath back. Mulder kisses the top of her head and strokes her arm.

"I wish I'd know about this chap fetish of yours earlier, Scully."

She laughs and looks at him.

"Why? What would you have done about it?"

"Found me a pair of those things a helluva lot sooner, that's for damn sure."

She laughs again. "Well, now that you have them, Mulder, we can continue to enjoy them. There's still one part of my fantasy left, you know."

"Let me guess. Chaps only."

"And you have to leave them on."

"I'll consider it if we move the location to a bedroom. This vinyl is murder on my ass."


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