Allison Cameron was seriously up Shit's Creek, her day that had begun so promising had dematerialized into awkward situation she was in now; in a booth, in a bar, sitting in silence across from her boss Greg House.

The day had bode well enough in the beginning, they had a patient, she had a diagnosis and if she was right, which House incidentally didn't believe, House would have to go on a date with her. Turned out in the end that she had figured out the illness proving to him as much as she that sometimes the infallible Dr. Gregory House, Board Certified Diagnostician with specialties in Nephrology and Infectious Disease wasn't always right.

She was determined that this night out would go so much better than the previous date, or the debacle as she liked to call it. No restaurant this time, oh no, she knew better, nope tonight they were going out to a Jazz Club on Wilson's suggestion that wasn't too fluffy and pedestrian and just kick back and enjoy themselves.

She had chosen the perfect outfit for the evening, a sexy red dress that clung to her small curves and a pair of strappy five inch heels. She still remembered fondly the way House reacted that night long ago during the Oncology Benefit when he had seen her clothed in red satin. If she had had her way, Foreman and Chase would have been thrown out of the room and House would have had her bent over the conference room table driving deep inside her. But that never happened, and she aimed to remedy that fallacy.

Unfortunately House hated the club, criticized the musicians and made obnoxious bored sounds every time the next song was set to be performed. Not to mention he insisted on driving his motorcycle wrinkling her once hot red dress and making a mess of her stylized hair. At least she could tell her Grandchildren one day about the time Nana got "politely" thrown out of a Jazz Club for disturbing the other guests, the musical acts AND management. She could always thank House for that.

House then selected some hole in the wall bar around the corner where he seemed perfectly at ease and in his element. Too bad for Cameron that she stood out like a sore thumb, all eyes on her the moment she entered the building.

House gave no outward indication that he was aware of the looks all the men in the establishment had sent Cameron's way, but that was deceiving, House never missed anything. It was no wonder that half the guys there had mentally torn that slinky scrap of a dress off Cameron's delicate shoulders, she was breathtaking, not that House would admit that to her face. Red was a good color on her, it brought out the highlights in her hair, the fullness of her lips, the soft femininity that was sheer Cameron and the hardness of House's dick. The ride over to that God-awful Club on his motorcycle had been sheer torture with the raging hard-on he was trying to conceal.

He knew exactly what the occupants of the bar were thinking when the pair of them strolled in together, she really can't be with him, is that her uncle or father, look at that sweet girl being so nice to that poor cripple. House tried to pretend it didn't bother him but that small, hidden touch of insecurity was weaving tendrils of self doubt through his entire consciousness.

House sent Cameron to the counter to fetch a scotch for him, his lack of confidence an unwelcome visitor; he needed some alcohol to bolster his nerves. Popping two Vicodin in his mouth he relished the vision of Cameron from behind as she walked away. Damn, the way that dress moved across her ass had to be illegal in at least 37 states.


The tall bulky figure of a man slid up beside Cameron as she waited patiently for the bartender to return with her and House's drinks. She didn't even need to turn his way to know that this man wasn't her date for the evening. He didn't have House's essence or presence; no this man's scent didn't cause her blood to run warm, cheeks to flush, knees to go weak and panties to become damp.

The stranger shifted his position, focusing his lecherous gaze running up and down Cameron's form. She didn't know why but it made her feel so used and dirty, like she had Grade-A Prime Rib eye stamped across her forehead. Sighing she inched her way further from him, politely ignoring his advances.

She had caught a swift glance at him as she reached across to snag a couple peanuts from the bowl on the bar top. It wasn't that he was unattractive because he really was; it just was that he wasn't her type at all. Well that was a lie, his crisp pin-striped suit, perfectly coiffed hair and confident manner would normally scream Cameron come jump me. But not anymore, not since her preference had evolved to an appreciation for grouchy, wrinkled, older, damaged, misanthropic sons of bitches. No, all Allison Cameron wanted in a man was the last person she should want, her blue eyed crippled jack ass boss.

The stranger now had moved in precariously invading Cameron's personal space. God I don't need this shit! He focused his dynamic, 100 watt smile in her direction, but it served nothing but to repulse her further. Upon closer inspection, which she had no choice because she practically was breathing his exhaled air, she decided that he wasn't so attractive after all and was probably named Blaine, Chip or Blake or some other mundane preppy name.

Blaine finally made his move offering to by Cameron a drink. She courteously refused citing that she had one coming already, but dear Mr. Preppy wasn't getting the hint. His advances became more amorous, 'accidently' brushing his arm across Cameron's chest and whispering in her ear blanketing her with his sour mash breath.

Out of nowhere a loud THUD from a cane being slammed between the two them warded off Chip's smooth moves. Cameron's eyes met House's; a flash of softness in the blue depths was quickly extinguished by a fire Cameron had never seen there before.

House turned to face his adversary, "Oh I'm so sorry" He said sarcastically "I didn't see you there." House proceeded to dig his shoulder into the other man's lighting knocking him out of the way. Handing Cameron her now appeared beer and his own scotch House moved behind Cameron and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. "I came to collect my belongings." House's eyes never left Blaine's as he lowered his mouth darting his tongue to run across Cameron's carotid artery to the sensitive pulse point behind her ear.

Cameron closed her eyes and rested against House's form, her body throbbing from the mere contact, contact she would have never believed she would experience. "Mine, mine, mine" he announced to Chip, to Cameron, to the whole damn bar. House had effectively marked Cameron as his, Mr. Preppy backed off sensing the Alpha male presence.

House and Cameron hadn't even seemed to notice the other man's withdrawal, the electricity bouncing between the two of them now a near fever pitch. House ran is tongue across his top lip savoring the taste of Cameron his body shaking, aching for more.

Cameron could feel the tension in House's muscles as she leaned against him; the undeniable maleness of him was intoxicating. She had never been privy to this side of him and to say it was a massive turn-on would be an understatement. It was as if House was staking his claim on her and she was a more than willing participant.

She shifted her position until she was facing House, his blue eyes cloudy with desire and fire, she half expected him to growl before he devoured her. And devour her he did, slamming his mouth down on hers while simultaneously grasping her ass tilting her pelvis against his erection.

No corner of her mouth went unexplored by House's tongue, Cameron's head was in a daze, she had never been so thoroughly kissed. He was right when he said No woman should die without knowing the feeling.

Breaking free from the kiss House nibbled on Cameron's dainty earlobe, "Go now." It wasn't a request or suggestion, it was an order. Cameron wordlessly nodded while House tossed some cash on the bar.

They were barely out the front door before House had Cameron pinned up against the cool brick of the building his mouth crashing upon hers. She reacted back matching his intensity, engaging in a delicious simultaneous mouth fuck that left them both panting and aroused beyond reason.

"Fuck Cameron," House moaned grinding his forehead against hers. He knew all the reasons he shouldn't be doing this but damn it, she was his. He ran his knuckles gently across her sensitive nipples and they responded accordingly puckering and begging for his attention.

Cameron squeezed her legs shut, the throbbing an uncontrollable ache now, her panties now a damp mess. "House…I…" She was at a loss for words.

With a final kiss House brushed his palm against her mound, fuck she was soaked and ready he could feel the wetness through the fabric of her dress. "Come on." He took her hand leading her over to the Honda. House was determined to give Cameron exactly what she wanted most at his apartment but first he was going to blow her mind.

He mounted the motorcycle starting the motor. "Get on" he ordered Cameron and she dutifully obliged. She took her place behind House wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her shins against the back of his calves.

"Spread your legs more." House commanded. Cameron was confused, any wider and she'd be smack up against House's denim clad ass. House grew impatient reaching behind and thrusting Cameron flush against him forcing her mound to bounce off his backside.

Cameron could barely stifle the moan that escaped, pleasure shot clear up her body.

"That's it." House coaxed Cameron as she finally acquiesced and opened her thighs to an unladylike distance, the heart of her core flushed against House's ass. He revved the engine causing a vibration to creep up her inner thighs to her clit.

"Oh my God!" Cameron screamed as intense pleasure began to build the vibration of the motorcycle stimulating her and causing her mound to bounce against the jeans House wore.

"That's it," House smiled, a wicked sense of elation falling over him. He applied more force to the gas, the steady hum of the motor rousing further reactions from his date.

Cameron began to grind wildly against House, the whole situation too much, the bike, the kisses, the vibrations, her body readied itself for climax.

House loved listening to the sounds emitted from Cameron's pleasure stricken throat. Fuck, Oh God, House, yes, please. He was rock hard now and his body threatened to ejaculate just from hearing Cameron's voice.

House revved the engine more, now stopping and going in short spurts driving Cameron absolutely wild, she was so close, hell who needed a vibrator when you had a motorcycle. As her orgasm approached she reached out and slid her hands under House's shirt scrapping her nails on his abdominals.

"Come for me Cameron." House coaxed, He wanted, no NEEDED to hear her lose control and fall over the edge. Opening the throttle House jettisoned the bike out of the parking lot onto the gravel top road.

House yelped in pain as Cameron's teeth captured his lobe and the sexiest purr he had ever heard emerged from deep in her belly, "Ohhhhhh fuck House." She moaned as she came, the waves of pleasure relentless as House forged on down the road each bump wringing out another flash of climax.

As House pulled up along his apartment, he stopped the bike and slowly turned off the engine dismounting leaving Cameron to remain seated. He offered her his hand; her legs had to be completely non-functional. Her eyes were wide and lips parted, he had just awarded her with the most intense 3 minute orgasm of her life and he hadn't even penetrated her yet.

His hand moved lower to cup her now saturated panties. Cameron's head lulled back, what had this man done to her?

House let loose a smirk before placing a gentle kiss on Cameron's pert nose. "Chicks dig the motorcycle."