Disclaimer: JE owns the characters. Week 29- Mod's Moderation Challenge

A/N: Sorry, Alfie. I needed to have fun for Steph's sake.

Tasty Moderation

So maybe twelve Tastykakes is a lot to eat in one day. But, come on. They're Tastykakes. You can't just have one and my hormone levels were demanding more sugar than I usually ingest.

Four weeks ago, I had the mother of all fights with Joe. It consisted of the usual flailing arms, Italian hand gestures, and bad language. The thing that set it apart from all the other fights was that at the very end, Joe said, and I quote, "I should have left you when Terry told me that she'd take me back. Dealing with the 'Family' is less stressful than dealing with your life."

Yeah. At that point, I told him that he could go right on ahead and get back together with Terry. If he really felt that my life was so difficult to deal with, than by all means, he could have the family. I'll take Sarcasm for $100 Alex.

With Joe out of the picture for good and Ranger 'in the wind', I wasn't getting any satisfaction. Hence, the need for a dozen Tastykakes.

Tank had called me this morning and asked if I could come in and do some searches. Since the skip tracing thing was slower than dead, I agreed. The only problem that I had foreseen was that I was going to be trapped in a testosterone filled environment for nine hours straight. Hot guys + no sex = lots of Tastykakes.

After hitting the 7-Eleven, I made my way into RangeMan. I plopped down in my cubby and opened my first little cake as I started my first search. A light chuckle came from over my cubicle wall and I said a silent prayer that the guys wouldn't rat me out to Tank for having 'contraband' in the office.

I paced myself. Or at least I thought I was. One cake per search sounded like a reasonable idea. The morning went by swiftly and lunch was a blur. The first sign of trouble came at two in the afternoon. I was down to two Tastykakes. If I was stuck here until five, than that meant I had two cakes to last me three hours. That was going to be pushing it.

I honestly held out for as long as I could. I ate one of the cakes as two-thirty. If I could make it until four to eat the last one than I'd be home free. I could run right out of here and load back up before something bad happened.

I'm not that lucky.

Swiveling my chair around at four, I reached out and my hand hit the desk top. My eyes darted down to the desk and terror instantly filled me. My beloved Tastykake was missing! And I had saved my only chocolate one for last!

My hands started shaking and I couldn't get enough air. It just wasn't fair! How could one of the guys steel my last one? It wasn't just cruel. It was insanity!

I jumped from my chair and stumbled out of my cubby. Ella had always been my savior, she had to have something stashed somewhere. As I turned around to head to the elevators, something flashed in the corner of my eye. I whipped my head around.

There it was! My lost Tastykake was laying on the floor halfway down the isle, still in its perfect cellophane wrapper. Time stood still as my heart skipped a beat. I took a step forward and then heard the four little words shouted that no woman ever wants to hear when there's chocolate involved.


I fell to my knees and screamed, "OH, GOD, NO!" as I watched my heavenly little cake explode into tiny little pieces. I crawled on my hands and knees the rest of the way down the isle.

"How could someone be so cruel?" I whispered as I gently picked up the remainder of the packaging, chocolate icing smearing on my fingers.

"What did we say about your contraband?"

I looked into the cubby on my right and glared at Woody, the detonator still in his hands. He was grinning like it was funny that he had blown up my last Tastykake.

"All things in moderation," I said in a tiny voice.

"Twelve Tastykakes in one day is not moderate," Lester said from his cubby on my left.

I ignored Lester. Woody was the one that had pulled the trigger and he was the one that was going to suffer my full wrath. Without thinking clearly, I scrambled into Woody's cubby and started pummeling him in the chest.

Picture, if you will, that part of the movie A Christmas Story, when Ralphie sits on Scut Farkus' chest and hits him repeatedly as he mumbles profanities and gibberish. That was me and Woody. I kept hitting him as things flew out of my mouth.

"It was my last one," I hissed as I hit him. "You couldn't just leave me alone." Hit, hit. "You had to take the last one." Hit, hit. "I haven't had sex in four weeks and I need sugar." Hit, hit. "But, no." Hit, hit. "You guys just can't leave me alone." Hit, hit, hit. "Now what am I going to do?" Hit, hit. "I have no sugar and I'm surrounded by hot men." Hit, hit, hit.

"Should we-"


"Steph's always good for a laugh, right?" I shouted as I continued to hit him. "Let's torment her." Hit, hit. "It's just CAKE!" Hit, hit, hit. "She'll be fine without it." Hit, hit, hit.

I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him up slightly. I got right in his face and said, "Why doesn't any one think about my needs, Woody? Four weeks! Four very long weeks without sex! This is why I need the sugar! Without the sugar I can't function in such close proximity to a bunch of drool wor-"

My rant was cut off by Woody's tongue in my mouth. His hands slid up my back and he crushed me to his chest as he sat all the way up. My fingers released his shirt and trailed up his chest, finally coming to rest in his soft, thick hair. My body turned into a four alarm fire as our tongues dueled in my mouth. I felt my panties get drenched as he grew hard under me.

Someone moaned and then several people started coughing.

"Did I hear an explosion?" Tank's voice boomed in the distance.

I came back into my head enough to tear my lips from Woody's before Tank caught us. My face instantly heated up when I tried to get out of his lap and his arms tightened around me.

Woody pulled me closer and whispered in my ear. "Meet me after work and I'll break your dry spell." He released me and pulled me to my feet before Tank got into view.

Holy hot flashes!

Tasty Moderation 2

A small squeal was ripped from my throat when my cell phone chirped to alert me that I had a text message. I had been so intent on the digital clock on the bottom of my computer screen that I damn near had a heart attack. The minute that is known to so many people as the minute of 4:59 just happened to be the longest minute of the day.

Just as the numbers changed to 5:00, my cell phone spoke and I quickly grabbed it from my pocket. It was a message from Woody.

If you are still interested, I'm down in my apartment. Come on in, I'm in the shower. W.

I felt my eyes glaze over and a small drop of drool escape the corner on my lips. Woody all wet and soapy in the shower. Yum. Faster than a speeding bullet, I jumped from my chair and started running towards the elevator. The rush of blood to my head made me start to think clearly. I decided that it might be wise to run down to my Tracker first and grab my emergency duffle bag. It had a few changes of clothing and travel size containers of my usual toiletry stuff. At least I was now more prepared for my messy days.

Binkie chuckled behind me as I stood in front of the elevator and waited for the car to come up to our floor. I think I might be a little too excited, I'm bouncing. With a quick glare over my shoulder, I opted for the stairwell. Taking the stairs two at a time, which is hazardous for me, I made my way down to the garage. As I ran, I text Woody back.

Running to the garage to grab my bag. Be up in a minute. S.

As I ran out of the stairwell, I crashed into Hector. His arms wrapped around my waist as I started to fall over and he gently set me straight.

"Fire?" he asked, his Hispanic accent thick on that one word.

"No," I said with a shake of my head.

"Be aware," he said with a wide grin as he released me and moved to the elevator.

For a man that knew very little English, he sure was a comedian. I looked around the garage as I walked over to my Tracker. It wouldn't do me any good to get run over when I was this close to getting an orgasm. I grabbed the black duffle bag from the small cargo area and checked it quickly to make sure that there were indeed clean clothes in it. There were.

The run back up the stairs was a little more taxing than the trip down. My legs were burning and I was having a hard time catching my breath by the time I reached the landing to the fourth floor. I collided with Cal as I ran out the stairwell door. Another set of beefy arms wound their way around my waist to keep me from eating the floor.

"Whoa!" Cal said as he righted me. "What's the rush, Bomber?"

"No rush," I gasped as I eased out of his arms and started backing my way down the hall. I took a few deep breaths to try to expand my lungs and said, "Just a little psyched."

"You gotta be a little more aware when you fly," he said with a wary expression as he climbed onto the elevator.

"Got it, big guy," I said with a thumbs up as I moved further down the hall.

I waited for the elevator doors to close before I opened the door and slid into Woody's apartment. The first thing that I noticed as I closed the door was that the bathroom door was open with the shower running. The second thing that I noticed was the three framed replica movie posters hanging on the walls. It had been several months since that last time I had been in here and he didn't have them back then.

The first poster was of Frank Sinatra and Gene Kelly in 'Take Me Out To The ball Game'. Both of the men were up in the air doing one of those complicated heel clicks that I always fell on my ass trying to do. Frank wasn't all that bad to look at when he was younger. Huh.

The second poster was of John Wayne, Dean Martin, and Ricky Nelson in 'Rio Bravo'. They were all posed like it was a shot from the movie, guns drawn and looking up at something behind the camera man.

The third poster was just perfect for Woody. It was Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant in 'Bringing Up Baby'. The poster brought a smile to my face because about a month ago, I had commented that he looked like a younger, more physically fit, version of Cary Grant. You know… cleft chin, dimples, and dreamy eyes. That was Woody. He had the darkest blue eyes that I had ever seen and every time he smiled, it made them sparkle.

As I sat my bag on the floor next to the couch, I noticed that the shower had shut off. I turned around and found him leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Very casual and relaxed.

Until the whole image of him standing there hit me. Droplets of water ran down his neck from his wet hair. I watched as a few of them slid slowly down his rock hard peck. A few more drops let gravity take its course as they ran over his wash-board abs, only to stop at the top of the blue towel that was wrapped low around his waist. Oh, shit!

"I took a moderate risk when I sent you that text message."

His voice snapped me out of my ogling and my eyes snapped up to his. He straightened up and took three long strides to stop just in front of me. His solid arms wrapped around me and crush me to his chest.

"But seeing that look in your eyes tells me that there wasn't a risk at all."


My words were cut off as his warm lips crashed down on mine. His tongue swept into my mouth and my knees went weak. Before I lost all train of thought, I realized that I had taken a moderate risk coming back up here. And if his kisses were any indication as to what was going to happen, than it was so going to be worth the risk. Hot Damn! His warm and full lips fused to mine as his soft tongue caressed mine. This was going to be so good.

Tasty Moderation 3

My arms wrapped around his neck as he eased me up his body the eight inches it took to get us eye level, my legs folding around his waist. The kiss went from slow and teasing to an inferno as my right hand lightly caressed the junction of his neck and shoulder. He shuddered in my arms as I repeated the caress, abruptly dropping down to his knees.

He tore his lips from mine and looked at me as he warned, "If you don't stop that, I'm not going to last long."

I chuckled and his eyebrows went up. "Then I guess we better hope that you have a good recovery time."

A feral look passed through his eyes just before he tipped forward and laid me down on the floor. He settled between my legs and lowered himself down so that his chest was just barely grazing my nipples as he breathed. By the crooked smile he gave me, I knew he was doing it on purpose. Such a tease.

My hands reached up and cupped his face as I leaned my head up to capture his lips. He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his options for the first time, before he sunk down on top of me and forced my head back down on the carpet. Our tongues dueled as our hands started roaming over each other's body.

My shirt was ripped over my head and my bra quickly disappeared after that. I praised God at the top of my lungs as his hot mouth found my left nipple and his left hand came up to tweak the other. My pants and underwear disappeared right after that and my back arched off the floor as he gently ran his finger over me.

"Christ," he groaned as he released my nipple and looked at me. "You're fucking dipping wet."

I lost it. My right hand fisted in his hair and pulled him up my body as my left hand ranked off his towel. I needed my release right now!

A shudder, accompanied with a groan, raced down his spine as he easily slid into me. My breath caught in my throat as I watched his eyes, the color of two dark blue storm clouds, turn completely black. I had never seen anyone other than Ranger look at me like this. With complete wanton, need, lust.

As he started to move in and out, all thought of anything left my head. I could only feel as he slowly slid against my g-spot, over and over again. He was driving my need for release to new heights, but never getting me close enough to the edge to push me over.

"Please, please, please," I chanted as I bucked against him, urging him to go faster.

He obligated and started pounding into me. In five quick thrusts, he had me soaring out over the edge with no end in sight. I screamed out his name and faintly heard him grit mine out as he followed me over.

We laid, breathless, on the living room floor. Both of us covered in a light sheen of sweat. He brought a smile to my lips as he lightly kissed a trail along my shoulder and up my neck, stopping briefly at my pulse point to swirl his tongue over it. He twitched inside me and I laughed lightly.

"Mmmmm," I murmured. "Quick recovery time."

"It's hard not to with such an amazingly beautiful woman trapped under me," he breathed in my ear before he caught my earlobe with his teeth.

He shifted his hips and I felt him start to grow larger. Oh boy! I caught a live one with Woody. He pulled back and smiled down at me, his perfect dimples coming out and little lines creasing the corners of his eyes. My breath hitched. Had I not noticed how incredibly good looking he was before this very moment?

"What?" he asked, his smile faltering.

I blushed. "I never realized how handsome you are."

"I don't know if I'm suppose to say thank you to that, or not," he said with a light chuckle.

"When you smiled at me just now," I said, trying to explain, "It was like your whole face softened and the real you peeked out at me. I always see the guarded Woody. Never the Woody that you keep hidden away inside."

His eyes fell from mine, going down to my lips. Just so that he wasn't looking directly at me. "With all the things that I've seen and done, it's hard to take the walls down and let someone in."

I lightly took his face in my hands and tilted it up so that he was looking at me again. I smiled as I said, "I like what I saw and I'd like to see more."

"Really?" His face started to smooth out again. It was just barely noticeable, but still there.

"Really," I confirmed as I slid my hands up into his soft hair.

He slowly started rocking his hips, causing a slow burn to start low in my abdomen. His lips came down to mine, soft and feather light. I lightly scraped my nails down out of his hair, across his face and neck, down his chest and up along his ribs. My hands finally came to rest on his back, the muscles rippling just under the smooth skin.

My toes curled as the first wave of my orgasm started flowing through me. It was amazing. Just as one orgasm was leaving my body, another one was starting. Every caress that he did to my skin turned into an immediate erogenous zone. He finally let go of whatever control he was able to hang on to and came with me, both of us shouting out our releases.

He rolled us over so that I was sprawled across his chest, muttering something about his knees burning. We laid there, just basking in the after glow, unable to move. My eyes weren't working right, so I lifted my head up to get a better look at the digital clock next to his bed.

"It's eleven?" I squeaked as my hand flew up to my mouth.

Woody tilted his head back and examined the clock. He looked back at me and said, "So."

"We had sex for six hours." I looked at him in awe.

"And?" he chuckled.

"What happened to 'Everything in Moderation'?" I asked, a light laugh of my own.

"Oh, no, Honey," he said as he rolled us back over and pinned me to the floor. "There is no such thing as moderation when it comes to sex."

Oh! Holy Hot Flash!