I was watching an old episode of Roswell recently and was inspired. Enjoy this completely smutastic story. Chapter 2 should come soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow.

Felicity contemplated taking one of the ice cubes floating in her cup of water and rubbing it along her neck. Despite the four fans she had on full blast and positioned to blow right on her, she was burning up. Starling City was experiencing an unusual heat wave. Everyone in the city was holed up in their homes, basking in the glory that is central air. She however was in the basement of a club, sweating, because a certain green loving vigilante decided he needed to go out on patrol.

"You said one hour Oliver," she grumbled into the com link. "Its been two."

"Felicity," he said. "There was a robbery."

She groaned in frustration. "Two stupid teens stealing ice. Ice Oliver. I'd steal a bucket of ice right now and bathe in it."

A choked sound came over the com link before Oliver said, "Okay I'm on my way."

Felicity sighed in relief. Finally! As soon as he arrived back, she was leaving and taking a cool shower at home. She began shutting down her computers, leaving one up to run its usual searches. She slid on her blue flip flops and straightened the straps on her white tank top. She eyed her cup of ice water again and imagined dumping the whole thing over her head. Right now, that would feel really good.

Five minutes later, Felicity stood a safe distance away from her computers, and poured the ice cold water over her head. This is how Oliver found her. Glasses off. Hair down. Shirt wet. And her moaning in what sounded like relief.

"Felicity?" He said cautiously. His eyes quickly took in the way the wet parts of her shirt clung to her skin.

She jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. "Oliver! You're back."

"What are you doing?" He asked.

She looked at the cup in her hand, down at her transparent shirt and back up at him. "Cooling off and unintentionally participating in a one woman wet t-shirt contest."

Oliver pushed his hood off as his eyes traveled down to her shirt. Heat pulled low in his stomach as he realized he could clearly see the outline of her nipples through her shirt. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to rip her shirt off and taste her. If he wanted to be honest with himself, this wasn't the first time the thought entered his mind. More than once, when she wore those tight pencil skirts, he wanted nothing more than to run his hands up her legs and make her scream in ecstasy.

Shaking himself out of his increasingly heated thoughts, he forced his eyes to look back up at her. A blush stained her cheeks as she nervously bit her bottom lip. His eyes narrowed on her lips, wanting nothing more than to feel the heat of her bite against his mouth.

"A one woman wet t-shirt contest?" He asked.

She pulled her shirt away from her skin, attempting some modesty. "If you haven't noticed, and I don't know how you couldn't in all that green leather, it's hot. And you. for some reason, don't have any kind of air down here. It's like I'm roasting in here. And do you know what this heat does to my babies?"

He shook his head, too distracted by the water dripping from the ends of her hair, to pay too much attention.

"This heat slows down my babies," she continued. She twisted the end of her hair to rid it of some of the water. "And I'm hot...well not hot hot...though my boyfriend from college thought so. But what I mean is it's hot in here."

Oliver chuckled. "I've judged a few wet t-shirt contests in the past."

"Hate to break it to you Oliver," she said sarcastically, "that really isn't a surprise."

He unzipped his jacket, revealing the fact he wasn't wearing his usual white t-shirt underneath. Unable to stop herself, her eyes fell to the muscles revealed. She'd had so many fantasies regarding his chiseled chest and should be illegal abs. Why was he taking off his jacket? And why was he looking at her like she was dinner?

"Oliver?

Jacket gaping open, Oliver walked to her until he was right in front of her. He could smell the floral scent of her shampoo. This close, he could see the rapid beat of her pulse. He wanted to lick her right at that pulse point.

Felicity reached up and felt his forehead, concerned by his silence and staring. "Are you okay? You're not overheated? Do you need water?"

He shook his head no. He couldn't stop the words that came out of his mouth next, even if he wanted to. Seeing her concern and how incredibly sexy she looked in the wet t-shirt, he had to tell her. He was going to drive himself insane with lust and longing if he didn't tell her.

"You're so beautiful Felicity."

Her hand dropped to her side. She stared at him as if he had grown an extra head. He thinks he made her speechless.

"Every time I see you," he continued, "I want to devour you."

Felicity visibly trembled at his words. "Devour me?"

He reached up and cupped her cheek. "Discover every secret pleasure point along your body." His hand traveled down her cheek to graze along her neck. "Discover if your skin is as soft as I've always imagined. Kiss every inch of you until I know all of you."

She continued to stare at him for a moment, processing his words. If she understood what he was saying, he wanted her. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. Throwing caution to the wind, she threw herself into his arms and kissed him.