All In But Not Yet Over, part 2

Pairing: House/Cameron

Rating: Mature

House tapped his cane anxiously on Cameron's floor, waiting for her to come out of the kitchen with his promised Scotch. Jesus. Bad ideas just didn't get any better, did they? Apparently, some intermediate step between entering Cameron's apartment and her jumping eagerly into his lap and confiding just how wildly he turned her on, was required. The trouble was, House, while envisioning the rest of the evening's course of events, hadn't considered just what that intermediate step might be. He'd just stupidly imagined an immediate resumption of the whole "tongue-in-ear, ass-grinding-against-crotch" thing, and now, he was at a loss. Fuck. He concentrated on studying the prints hanging on the wall, examining them as if they held the key to the secret of life.

But he needn't have worried. Cameron, still riding high on the night's wave, was determined to bring this thing (whatever it was) between her and House to resolution. She was nervous – her hand shook as she filled House's glass – and she figured she'd just about curl up and die of embarrassment if he rejected her, but tonight she'd had him at an advantage; so she decided it was now or never. And Cameron was going to do her very best it make sure it was NOW. So, taking a deep breath and squaring her slim shoulders, she walked quietly into the living room.

House swung around awkwardly to face her as she entered, and if there had been any trace of doubt left in Cameron's mind, it vanished immediately when she saw the look on his face. His desire for her was writ plain there. Only the furious working of his jaw muscle, the convulsive swallow, and the incessant tapping of his cane revealed House's underlying tension.

'Hi," he said, for the second time that night. (Great line, you idiot), he snapped to himself.

Cameron turned the light's dimmer switch down low. "Hi, " she replied softly, and handed House his Scotch. She could feel the heat where her fingers touched his hand and lingered. His blue eyes met and trapped her own. "House …" she breathed.

"Dr. Cameron."

House took a halting step nearer to her. Cameron's eyes were blue-gray swimming-pools, fringed by coal black lashes. She was so close to him, and he wanted so badly to bridge the distance that remained. He wanted to slide his hand over her smooth shoulder, and tangle his fingers in her soft hair while he caressed the back of her neck. He wanted to kiss her lips and suck on her tongue and whisper her name. He wanted his mouth on her breast and his cock inside her, while she pulled him in deeper and closer and bit his shoulder. Most of all, he wanted not to want any of this; he fought against it, but he was fast losing the battle. His jaw muscle worked frantically, but he just would not bring himself to take that next step.

As it turned out, House didn't have to. Cameron did it for him. She turned so that her back was to him, and, gracefully lifting her hair with one hand, said in a low voice, "I'd like to change out of this dress. Would you please unzip me?"

The lovely line of her long neck was before him, and the gentle curve of her cheek, as she bowed her head. A few tendrils of hair still cascaded down Cameron's back; House lifted his hand as if to stroke them, but then dropped it back to his side. He knew very well just what that one touch would do, and he was not yet ready to concede the fight.


House closed his eyes. He realized he'd been holding his breath, and exhaled slowly through his teeth. Then Cameron moved back a step, until she was practically flush against him. House could smell that same vanilla and baby powder scent that had haunted him since earlier that night. He felt his stomach muscles clench with need. His hand rose, seemingly of its own accord, and pushed her curls out of the way of the zipper, his fingers lightly brushing against her back at the same time. Cameron gave a gasping little moan at House's touch, and the battle that had been raging inside him for so long ended in that instant. Dr. Gregory House went down in defeat, like the walls of Jericho before Joshua, like the clans at Culloden, like Custer at the Little Big Horn.

Cameron felt House's lips on her hair as he rested his head against hers momentarily. Then he began to slowly pull the red dress' zipper downward, watching in fascination as inch after inch of milky white skin was exposed to his hot gaze. His breathing was uneven, and his fingers shook a little. When the zipper was low enough, House gently slid his calloused hands under the dress' bodice, feeling Cameron quiver and her chest heave. He splayed one hand wide over her flat stomach, and cupped one soft breast with the other. He could feel her nipple stiffening against his palm, and a wild impatience surged through him. Fiercely, he pulled Cameron back tightly against him, kissing her neck and letting out a husky groan as he pushed his fast-hardening cock against her ass.

And then suddenly she was out of his arms, and moving to the middle of the room. The unexpected loss of her body heat took a minute to register, and while House was still trying to clear his brain, Cameron turned to face him. She licked her lips nervously. Then, in one movement, she stepped out of her dress, leaving her clad only in sheer thigh-high stockings, her high-heeled pumps, a lacy pair of black panties, and her dangling earrings. House stared at her. She was breathtaking.

"Will you stay here with me tonight," she asked, her serious eyes fixed upon his face.

House blinked, swallowed hard. It took him three tries, but he finally managed to choke out,

"I think I can handle that."

Cameron smiled.

End Part 2