A/N Well you probably want to know something about the story. Ok, there will be smut, and a bit of romance and smut and some action. Did I mention smut? Really just something to get my muse back on track after four weeks of not writing and studying for my finals. On a happy note, the next chapter for a tangled web is almost finished. And then I have to go back to studying. Damn. Should probably add that this story is very AU. And it's HouseCameron. As if I could write anything else.
Disclaimer is in my profile, now enjoy!
Dim light from the streets barely illuminated the townhouse at this time of the night
Gregory House, world-renowned diagnostician and Princeton's very own misanthropic bastard sat on his couch willing away the spikes of pain that shot through his thigh and leg. On days like this, when the vicodin had as much an effect on the pain as a placebo he was tempted to take up the offer of relieve and escape the little green box on the top shelf of his book case held,
well hidden behind an antique medicine compendium consisting of twelve books, nice to look at but absolutely useless in modern times.
He knew he shouldn't even be thinking about it, he was a doctor for Pete's sake, he knew the dangers of taking the drug, plus he'd promised Cuddy to never shot up on morphine again.
But then, he broke his promises regularly so why not this one as well?
Every time he neared the point of surrendering to the pain and taking the syringe out a little voice held him back, probably the still lingering leftovers from his well-buried conscience, a voice that had over the years started to sound suspiciously like a certain brown eyed oncologist.
Damn that man and his pathological need to meddle in other people's life.
'Hypocrite', the voice taunted him again, 'you're just as bad if not worse.'
Yeah, but he only did it to satisfy his curiosity, Wilson always wanted to fix things.
He grimaced when another wave of pain shoot up his leg and with shaking hands he fumbled with the cap of the little orange bottle that had been his constant companion for the last six years and popped it open a little too hastily causing the constants to spill all over the coffee table.
Cursing under his breath he scooped up two of the little white pills and swallowed them dry for the moment not caring about the mess he'd made.
He would take care of that when he was able to move again.
The next hours passed in a haze of the heavy drugs that numbed his mind with the even for him unusual high dose he'd taken that evening.
Nearing midnight he was actually lucid enough again to pick up the rest of the vicodin and put them back into their container.
Disgusted he noticed that he'd obviously spent the last few hours sweating like a pig because he now smelled like one.
Just when he emerged the shower his doorbell announced the arrival of the midnight visitor he knew would be at his door around this time.
He smirked a little, anticipating the promise of escape and oblivion that currently waited behind his front door. He'd long since given up on feeling guilt or remorse after these encounters but sometimes they left a shale taste in his mouth.
Which was the reason why he never let them stay after they'd gone down to business, not that he'd ever heard any complaints, he knew he was good and he'd always taken pride in the fact that no woman left his bed unsatisfied.
And Cheryl would just be the right one to get his mind off the pain and on to other more pleasurable things.
He opened the door with just a towel covering him, his chest and hair still damp from his earlier shower.
He stopped and his eyes widened in surprise at the sight that greeted him.
Long milky white legs clad in four-inch heels and black stockings. A short black leather skirt hugged a temptingly slim waist and a dark red satin top that showed just enough cleavage to make any sane male drool completed the outfit.
He took in the long dark curls spilling over her shoulder and the pale face with luscious full red lips and sea coloured eyes.
A tempting and alluring vision indeed just not the usual one.
"You're not Cheryl." He stated the obvious causing his opponent to smile slightly, a reaction she tried to hide though.
"No, I'm not. Cheryl is not working for Dave anymore. She decided to try her luck in Vegas. I was sent as her replacement." She shrugged slightly suddenly seeming insecure and he found himself intrigued something that didn't happen very often with strangers.
Especially not those that he occasionally spent the night with.
"If I don't suffice I can go and Dave will send somebody else."
"No." he stopped her, a hand on her arm his eyes searching hers, looking for something, what he didn't know.
He stepped back and made room for her to enter and she smiled a shy smile and graciously flowed past him into the condo.
He closed the door with an audible click and took in the small figure standing nervously in the middle of his living room.
'Patience' he scolded himself, for some reason he wanted to know more about the woman, wanted to identify the pain that lurked in her eyes for he had recognized it as a part of his own.
She was tense, too tense for his liking.
"Unclench…" his voice was low and rough and unconsciously she responded to the hidden order and he could see her shoulders slacking as she visibly relaxed.
He smirked and made his way over to the table where he'd left an expensive bottle of scotch earlier that day.
"Have a seat, drink?" he asked and she nodded taking a deep shaky breath.
She was nervous.
She sat down while he poured two shots of scotch and he observed her behaviour.
She graciously folded one leg over the other causing the skirt to reveal more of her skin.
He hissed and his groin twitched at the sight of a garter belt and he had to remind himself to be patient again.
He wanted to fuck her.
No surprise there, that was after all the reason she was currently sitting on his couch nervously chewing on her bottom lip but what surprised him were the various fantasies that flew through his mind while he watched her tongue dart out to wet her lips.
He imagine them wrapped around his cock, the dark red lipstick smearing over the hot skin, imagined those eyes darken to an emerald green, almost black with arousal.
He wanted her looking at him, begging him with those eyes to fuck her hard and fast, to push his throbbing length into her hot core and make her scream.
Usually he only looked for a temporary relief, to take his mind off of the pathetic thing he called his life.
All the more reason to explore the woman on his couch.
"What may I call you?" he asked while placing the amber coloured liquid in front of her on the coffee table and her head jerked up, obviously startled.
"What?" she asked and he almost smiled at the confused look on her face but he kept his expression dark and unreadable only the barest hint of arousal shone in his ice blue eyes.
"Your name." He inquired again and she blushed.
This time he couldn't keep himself from chuckling.
"Dave calls me Cam."
"Cam…" he let the name roll of his tongue well aware that it was probably not her real one or maybe a shortening of her real name.
She took a sip of her drink and his arousal became almost painful upon the sight of her lips closing around the rim of the glass.
The alcohol seemed to have renewed her confidence because now she silently raised herself from her seat and sauntered towards him a slight swing in her hips.
She took his glass from his hand and carelessly put it on the table causing the dark liquid to almost swap onto the polished wooden surface.
A single neatly manicured finger traced his bottom lip and he resisted the urge to taste her capturing her wrist instead.
He tsked her and tugged her forwards until her soft curves tightly pressed against the hard planes of his chest.
She gasped when her body came in contact with his obvious arousal.
His right hand hold her hip while his left brushed away the dark curls from her shoulder and he lowered his mouth to the soft skin just below her ear.
Her breathing quickened and her pulse accelerated.
He nipped at the skin, gently at first but soon he lost himself in the taste of her.
She moaned and brought her hands to his shoulders to steady herself. His hand on her hip wandered upwards and under the silky little top she was wearing. With a swift move he divested her of the flimsy garment leaving her in a black lace bra that matched the garter belt he'd spied earlier.
Patience was definitely overrated
One of her hands languidly stroked down his bare chest and to the fastening of the towel that barely covered his throbbing length.
A flick with her fingers and the towel fell to the ground.
The next moment she surprised him by dropping to her knees and bringing herself on eye level with his cock.
She looked up and he could see the heat burning in her eyes turning them into a dark emerald green much like his imagination had taunted him with earlier.
She held his gaze while licking her lips and even though starting the evening like this hadn't been his original plan he buried a hand in her hair in anticipation.
Her tongue darted out and she licked his entire length, one hand safely grasping him at the base.
He groaned at that first contact.
She began to swirl that delicious pink torture device around the head and into the slit tasting the single drop of pre cum.
His eyes screwed shut when she closed those gorgeous lips around him, enveloping him in the moist warmth.
In one swift move she took his him into hr mouth, all the way down, every delicious inch and he had to grip the table behind him to stop his knees from giving out.
Vaguely he was aware of the faint throb in his thigh and it occurred to him that he hadn't even watched her reaction to his scar, too caught up in the moment.
She set a slow pace sliding his cock in and out of her mouth and if he had still been able to look down he would have noticed another one of his earlier visions coming true.
It wouldn't be the last one that night.
When her other hand cupped his balls and gently massaged them he was a goner. With a jerk of his hips he felt his release shooting up his spine and spilled himself into her receiving mouth.
She didn't pull back until she had swallowed everything he had to give.
As he was able to coherent thoughts again he looked down into very satisfied looking green eyes.
She good up and attempted to walk past him but he caught her arm.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked still breathless from his recent orgasm and she just raised an eyebrow pointedly looking at his now flaccid length. But he shook his head in response to her silent question.
"I'm not finished with you. Bedroom, second door on the left." He motioned to the hallway. "Give me ten minutes." He added and she complied though with a definite question in her eyes
When she turned around he closed his eyes and took a deep breath wondering what the hell had just happened.
I'm going to have a drink after rereading this. Meanwhile you can tell me what you think. You know you want to. :-)