When Cameron stepped into the Diagnostics department it was dark, and for a moment she thought nobody was there. A dull thud from House's office told her he was in there, probably throwing his tennis ball against the wall.
She didn't bother knocking before stepping inside. "Hi, House. New case?"
He nodded toward the file on his desk. Cameron took the file and scanned it quickly. "He's just having complications with his meds; why did you call me in?"
"Somebody needs to monitor his condition."
"Just put him on a different antibiotic, and he'll be fine in a couple of hours. You didn't have to call me in."
"Oh I'm so sorry. Did I interrupt your love fest?" House said, pretending to be concerned.
"I should have known," Cameron said, shaking her head. "That's what this is about; you wanted me away from James?"
"Oh how sweet," he taunted. "On a first name basis already."
"What's your problem, House? Pissed off that I'm not crying into my pillow over you?"
"I don't even know why I bothered to be surprised," House continued as if she hadn't said anything. "This is like math for morons. You're needy, and Wilson eats needy for breakfast."
"I am not needy!"
House just quirked his eyebrow in response and watched an angry flush fill Cameron's cheeks.
"Or maybe you're more like Wilson, and you just need to be needed," he said in the same acidic tone.
"I thought I only needed damaged men, or you have forgotten that vital piece of information you made up? It explains everything about me, after all."
"Oh, that, too."
"I did not like you because you're damaged," Cameron said, her voice low but certain. She had been longing to say this to House since that disastrous date, and now it was finally out there.
"Bullshit," House snorted.
"Maybe it was just as simple as me liking you for your sparkling personality."
"Nothing's ever that simple."
"Fuck you, House."
House leaned closer, fury and another unnamed dark emotion clenching his gut. "Not even if you paid me."
For an endless moment they stood there frozen, staring at each other. Then House reached out and drew her to him. She wasn't quiet sure who started it, but then House was kissing her roughly, and Cameron's knees threatened to give out so she clung to him.
There was no gentleness in the kiss, House's scruff was irritating her sensitive skin, and Cameron bit down on his lip until she tasted a few drops of blood as their tongues wrestled for dominance.
Just when she started to feel a little lightheaded from lack of oxygen, House released her mouth to attack her neck,sucking on the spot where her neck connected to her shoulder until he could see the bruise already start to form.
Cameron was determined to stay silent, give no indication of how much her body was betraying her; but a low groan escaped her when House traced his tongue farther up her throat and began sucking on a different spot just as harshly.
"Get off me," Cameron demanded, finally getting enough air in her lungs to talk.
"Make me," House snarled.
He reached for her pants, ripping the top button as he thrust his hand inside her panties. She was already dripping wet so he inserted his middle finger inside her roughly. "Can Wilson make you this wet for him? Does he give you what you need?"
"He'll always be better than you," Cameron spat.
A few seconds later she moaned as his thumb found her clit, massaging the swollen nub as he thrust his index finger inside of her as well.
A few moments later, he felt her clenching around his fingers and flooding them with fluid. "Does Wilson make you come for him this quickly? No. You know you want me, Cameron."
Cameron didn't even bother trying to say something back; endless waves of pleasure were crashing into her and all she could do was hold on to House as she rode out the most intense orgasm she could remember.
She sagged against him, feeling completely boneless. A few moments later, she stepped back from him, buttoning her pants as much as she could.
"That must have been one hell of an orgasm if that's the best you can do," House said smugly.
With one last glare, Cameron spun around and strode out of his office as fast as her wobbly knees would carry her, slamming the door as she went.
Escaping into a bathroom, she went to the mirror to try to fix her hair and noticed the two dark bruises on her neck.
"Goddamn smug bastard son of a bitch," she mumbled to herself, leaning closer to inspect the damage more closely. There was no way makeup would cover them.
She went into a stall, locking the door behind her and sat down on the closed toilet lid with a heavy sigh.
What the hell would she do now?