Hiatus is nearly over guys, rejoice! Anyway. This was inspired by a conversation in which it was decided that someone should write Angry Callian Sex, and guess what? It fell to me. Mostly because when I get an idea in my head, I can't get rid of it. So, here it is.
Thanks to recoilandgrace and Remote Control Princess for all their help with this one ;-)
Disclaimer: I don't own either of these guys, just this glorious mess I've thrown them into.
The sound of Gillian's heels clattering across the floor punctuated the sound of his name as she shouted it, over and over. He refused to listen, walking away from her down the corridor before turning into his office.
"Cal!" She pushed open the door, slammed it shut behind her and stood glaring at him, her hands on her hips. "Did you have to be so rude?"
"Yeah, I did actually."
"What the hell is your problem with him?"
"What's my problem?"
"What's my problem?"
"Well, you've grasped the question, how about we have an answer?"
He kept walking towards her, and she instinctively stepped back with every step he took forward. "My problem," he said at last, his voice dangerously low, "is that you are sleeping with a man you have absolutely no interest in and who you know isn't right for you. That's my problem."
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Tried again. Nothing.
"What's the matter, Gill? Nothing to say? Because you know I'm right, that's why."
"Oh, she speaks. Took you a while to say that though, didn't it?"
She glared at him, swallowing hard. "My… relationship… is none of your damn business, do you hear me? You have no right to say anything like that, to insinuate that…"
"Oh, I wasn't insinuating, love. I came right out and said it, didn't I? You don't want him."
"No? So why am I with him, then?" She took a half step closer to him, refusing to let him carry on any further in this little power trip of his.
"Because," he said, a smirk flashing briefly across his face, "you think you can't have me."
She took a quick intake of breath, her eyes widening in shock. "I… Cal… this has nothing to do with you. Chris and I… we…. I… I don't…"
"Don't what? Don't think about me when you're in bed with him?"
"Don't wish it was my tongue in your mouth when he's kissing you? Don't close your eyes and say yes and oh god instead of his name, because it makes it easier to fantasise that's it's me fucking you senseless, not him?"
She shook her head fiercely, her hands clenched into fists at her side. "Chris is a good man, and he cares about me, and you… I can't believe…"
"Can't believe I know how you feel? What, you thought you could keep it hidden? From me? Seriously, Foster… you should know me better than that. I've known you wanted me for years. Even when you were with Alec. Did you think about me when you were in bed with him, as well?"
"Shut up," she muttered, an edge to her voice, but he only grinned.
"Of course you did. But you wouldn't do anything about it, you were married. And I respected that, I really did. And then you got divorced, and I didn't make a move, and you assumed I wasn't interested and you accepted Chris's request for a date and… well. Look where you are now. Screwing a man you don't really want, and thinking about me. Just like when you were with Alec."
Out of nowhere, her hand came up to strike the side of his face; in an instant his hand was on hers, clutching her wrist as he stopped it mere millimetres from his face. "Save it for the bedroom, love."
She tore her hand away from his and stepped back. "I don't know what the hell you're playing at tonight, Cal… if this is all just some big ego trip for you, where you need to convince yourself that every woman wants you just so you feel better… but I don't care. I don't. I'm done saving you, I'm done covering for you, I'm done clearing up your mess and I'm sure as hell done watching you screw women right under my nose, okay?" Her voice rose with every word, and when she'd finished she was flushed and out of breath.
"So that's it," he said softly. "Not only did you think I wasn't interested in you, but you were jealous of the other women I've been with. Insanely jealous."
"I wasn't jealous," she said, continuing to glower at him. "I just think it's… unprofessional, the way you act sometimes, and I don't see why I should let you tarnish my relationships anymore. My marriage may not have worked out, but that doesn't mean things with Chris won't, or any other guy I choose to date. I'm not having this conversation with you again."
"Now, now, Foster," he said, stepping into her path quickly as she turned to leave.
"Get out of the way," she said quietly, attempting to keep her voice controlled.
"Not 'til we finish what we've started." He continued to stand there, blocking the door, and she was forced to meet his eyes.
"This has been simmering for years, love, you must have seen that. Can you really wait much longer to turn the heat all the way up?"
She gritted her teeth. "If you want to get laid, Cal, go and give Zoe a call, or go to a bar and pick up a woman or two. I don't care. Just leave me alone."
"You want to know why I slept with those women? You want to know why I kept screwing my ex-wife? Huh? You want to know, Gill? You really want to know?"
"No, Cal, I don't." She moved away, further into the room, and he realised she was planning to leave through the door to the study.
He reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him, and she gasped. "Cal…"
"Because I never let myself have the thing I really wanted," he murmured. "Because I knew it was too good for me. Knew I didn't deserve it. And that's still true, don't get me wrong… but I know how you feel. I see your desire, stronger than ever, and I know… you want me just as much as I want you."
"I don't." She shook her head.
"You do. And now I'm telling you, love, what you never thought was true, though I can't think why…" He leant closer to her, his lips brushing against her ear. "You can have me."
She felt an involuntary shudder go through her body, and pulled away sharply. "Cal."
He couldn't take it anymore, and he released her wrist as both his hands flew to her head, dragging her towards him. He crashed his lips against hers, and after only half a second felt her open her mouth to him. He felt the passion pouring out; years of pent-up attraction and longing coming to a head in this moment. Her arms were around his neck, and he dropped his hands lower, one travelling down her back, the other trailing down her throat towards the top of her dress.
She moaned against his mouth, part of her thinking she should feel guilty about this, feel the need to stop, or something, but the other half realising she couldn't fucking care. The intensity of his kiss was overwhelming, the way he pushed his hips towards her, ravaged her with his mouth, used his hand to slip inside her dress and then her bra… There were no words; she was pretty certain even the ability to form a coherent thought was beyond her, and became even more convinced when it registered that she'd torn his shirt open and sent buttons clattering to the floor.
He spun them around, and she heard the gentle thud of her back hitting the wall. He didn't remove his lips from hers, but his hands became more frantic in their removal of her clothes, and she realised that she was exactly the same. Her hands were roaming across his chest, pushing his shirt off his shoulders, and then dropped to his fly when he finally tore his lips from hers. Before she could say anything, his lips were on her neck, his hands were hitching her dress up over her hips and his fingers were sliding her underwear down and she realised that there was nothing she could say.
She flung her head back, her hands fumbling to undo his jeans, and she pushed them off him quickly. Her underwear was now round her ankles, and when she felt him slide his fingers through her she bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.
He inserted a finger, stroking her gently at first, and she arched her back as she pushed herself further into his hand. He rubbed his thumb over her clit in small circles, and she couldn't suppress a moan, which he quickly swallowed with another hungry kiss.
She reached down, feeling the length of him through his briefs and wanting, desperately, to feel him inside her. She slipped her hand inside, wrapping her hands around him, and he broke the kiss to curse loudly. She smiled, and he quickly stepped back to pull his jeans and underwear fully off before grabbing her hands and pinning her against the wall again.
"Finally ready to admit I was right, Foster?" he growled, his tongue tracing a tantalising trail down her neck and along the edge of her bra.
"Maybe," she panted, biting back a gasp when she felt him move closer to her, his erection pressing into her thigh. She wanted to reach down and touch him, wanted to get him inside her, but he held her hands above her head, and damn, he was strong. She'd never imagined herself having sex like this; she was usually a missionary kind of person, always had sex in a bed, for one thing. Sure, there'd been the odd time she'd done it on a sofa or in the shower, but never like this. They were at work, their colleagues were a few doors away at a party, Cal had her up against the wall and she'd never felt so turned on in her entire life.
He continued to grind against her, almost touching her then withdrawing, and she couldn't take it anymore. "Cal," she pleaded, and his eyes met hers, darkened with arousal and glittering like an animal who'd just caught its prey.
"Can you please… just…"
"Yes?" he grinned at her, running his tongue over her bottom lip. "Can I please what?"
"Fuck me," she moaned, and the second her words hit the air he released her wrists. One hand went to her dress, pulling it up again where it had slipped, the other he used to rub along her folds a few more times until he knew she was ready, then he guided himself into her.
She gasped when he entered her, and he quickly covered her mouth with another kiss. He pulled her leg up over his hip, thrusting deeper inside her, and she clawed at his back, scratching her nails across him and digging in every time he thrust into her.
She didn't know how long it lasted; it felt like forever and at the same time, mere seconds. All she knew was that she'd never been fucked like this in her life, and it was exhilarating. As his thrusts became more erratic she knew he was close, and dropped a hand to her clit to make sure she came with him. He grabbed at her wrist, pulling it away. "No." His breath was hot in her ear. "I'm the one who's going to get you off, love. Just me." He rubbed his thumb over her clit and she felt herself racing towards her climax, when he suddenly pulled backwards, tugging her with him as they tumbled to the floor.
"What the…" She realised his intentions pretty quickly, and lowered herself onto him again as he slid one hand into her bra to squeeze her breast, while the other he used to caress her ass. She placed her hands on his chest, feeling the sensations starting to travel through her body as she rode him. He bucked his hips against her, grinning at the sight of her as she closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from screaming.
"I knew you'd like it on top," he murmured, and she wanted to tell him to shut up, but her words were drowned out by the strangled cry she couldn't control as her orgasm crashed over her. Seconds later he followed, spilling himself inside her with a deep-throated cry of his own.
She collapsed against him, breathing heavily, and for a few moments they lay there in silence.
Eventually she lifted herself up, disentangling their legs and sitting on the floor to the side of him. She pulled her dress back down, glancing briefly over her shoulder to see what had become of her underwear.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "Don't you dare."
"Don't I dare… what?"
"Don't you dare say what you were about to say."
"Oh? And what was I about to say?"
"You were about to say, 'Told you so.'"
He smirked. "Fine. I won't say it."
"Good." She ran her hand up his arm, tracing lightly over his tattoos, a faraway look in her eyes.
"I was though," he said, and she struck his arm with the back of her hand.
"Told you not to say it."
"I didn't say it!"
"You didn't say 'don't paraphrase'."
She shook her head. "You want me to still be mad at you? Because at the moment, it's borderline."
"Do you think I want that?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "Really? Just because you gave me the best sex of my life when you were angry with me, you think I want you to still be pissed with me? That's a shocking conclusion to draw."
She felt a flicker of a smile betray her emotions, then rearranged her face into a serious expression, or at least the best one she could muster.
He gave her his trademark half grin, resting his hands behind his head.
She stood up and straightened her dress, and his eyes followed a lazy path from her ankles, up her calves and to her thighs. She reached down and scooped up her underwear with one finger, lifted her foot, then put it back down again.
She turned around, and stepped over him. His eyes widened at the sight of her, one leg on either side of him, and he licked his lips when she lifted her foot and gently ran the heel of her shoe over his stomach. "I was going to put these back on… but perhaps you ought to keep them?" She smirked. "Seeing as you've been desperate to get hold of them for so long." She dropped them on his chest and walked forwards, giving him an all too brief glimpse under her dress. When she got to the door she turned around, her hand smoothing over her dress. He'd rolled over onto his stomach, and lay with his head propped up on one elbow, twirling the black lacy material around in his other hand.
He thought she was going to leave without saying anything, but when she was halfway out the door she stopped. "Oh, and Cal?"
"Just so you know, I'm not going to have sex with you every time I'm mad at you."
She took another step, reached for the door handle, then turned. "You also don't have to make me mad at you to get me to have sex with you."
He heard the sound of her clattering heels long after she'd left the room, and it was a long time after that that he finally stopped grinning.