Title: The Icing On the Cake
Rating: strong M
Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to me.
Summary: Happy birthday, dear Gillian…
A/N: I'm pretty sure this covers caketiems, refrigeratortiems and kitchentiems. Three in one! Yay!
A/N2: For Lightwoman, who is bloody relentless ;) Couldn't have you going back to work without having had any cake. Also, I believe kitchentiems is on your list! Don't say I never do anything for you. Ha ha!
'The icing on the cake' (idiom) This expression is used to refer to something good that happens on top of an already good thing or situation.
Gillian opened her front door to find Cal standing outside. She hadn't been expecting him; they'd parted barely an hour earlier at the office.
"Em sent me," he told her before she had even voiced her surprise. "I told her I'd offered to buy you dinner and you declined, but she insisted you shouldn't be alone on your birthday."
Gillian smiled, fondly, and gratefully, at Emily's thoughtfulness, but told Cal, "I had perfectly good plans for being alone."
A grin swept across Cal's lips. "She sent me with perfectly good cake," he responded, his eyes sparkling as he held up a tin he carried.
This smile from Gillian was uncontrollable. "Why didn't you say so?" she joked, stepping backwards, allowing Cal to pass.
"Good to know I rank lower than cake," he muttered as he entered her house.
She grinned as she pushed the door closed. "Don't take it personally, most things rank lower than cake."
When she turned around, he was right in front of her, a suggestive smirk on his face. "Oh yeah, what could I have offered that would rank higher than cake?"
Her lips quirked into the slightest smile as she met his eyes. "Now that would be telling," she whispered before placing both hands flat on his chest and gently pushing him away.
As she stepped out from between him and the door, and walked into her kitchen, she mused that it was probably all the sugar she'd consumed at work, celebrating her birthday, that was making her feel so light headed and warm. Perhaps eating more cake wasn't a good idea. But, it was cake. She decided she would risk it.
Cal followed her into the kitchen and placed the tin on the table. She was already retrieving glasses and a plate from one of the cupboards.
"Seeing as you're here," she explained, "You can help me with this bottle of wine that you bought me."
She placed the wine glasses onto the table, pushed the plate across to Cal and picked up the bottle from the side after grabbing a knife from the drawer.
"No, love, that was for you to enjoy on a girly night in…"
She just fixed her eyes on his and smiled.
Cal nodded. "That was your perfectly good plan," he deduced.
Her smile widened. "Wine, chocolate and 'Letters to Juliet'."
"Don't suppose that's an action movie?"
She shook her head.
"Well, look at me, interrupting your evening," Cal said, moving backwards towards the door. "Enjoy the cake."
She laughed as she poured wine into the glasses. "Relax, Cal. You brought cake. That changes everything… Except the wine part."
"Oh, aye? Planning to get me drunk?"
"Can't get anything past you." She held a glass out to him and he took it.
They smiled at each other as they both took a sip.
"Mmm, good stuff," Cal remarked as he lowered his glass. "Whoever bought you this has good taste."
"You got Emily to ask Zoe for advice on what to get, didn't you?"
He feigned offence for a moment before admitting, "Well, now that I know you're such a wine connoisseur I could hardly just buy you any old bottle, could I?"
"Did Zoe know it was for me?"
She caught his slight frown at her question, but he didn't query her reasoning.
"Well, for you or some other woman I'm trying to get into bed."
She knew what he had actually meant but that didn't stop her heart from skipping, or the rush of excitement that swept through her.
Wide with realisation, Cal's eyes sought hers. He must have seen that, rather than being horrified, or merely amused, she was in fact aroused by the implications of what he had said. He wasn't likely to miss it.
"Or, you know what I mean, love," he shrugged.
Gillian felt a mixture of relief and disappointment as he broke their eye contact and stepped up to the table. She took a mouthful of wine, hoping to calm her suddenly speeding heart rate.
"Now, you're not allowed to see this until it's ready," Cal informed her, acting as if nothing had happened, "So, turn around," he instructed, demonstrating with a wave of his hand. Then he opened the cake tin. He used the lid to shield the inside from her view.
"Cal…" She tried to peep.
He flicked the lid back onto the tin and shot her a determined look.
Rolling her eyes, she turned her back to him, leaning against the table. For a moment, she didn't hear any movement at all and was sure she could still feel Cal's gaze on her.
"Cal?" she enquired, and the sound of the tin lid moving confirmed that she had spurred him on.
"Be patient, darling," he said, "You really do like cake, don't you?"
She laughed to herself and told him, "Love, Cal. I love cake."
She heard him chuckle, then heard the sound of a match being struck.
"If you're going to burn down my house, you could at least have asked me to go into a different room," she quipped.
She could hear the teasing in Cal's voice as he responded, "There are definitely enough candles on this cake to start a decent fire."
A disbelieving laugh broke free from her lips. "You're in trouble once I get my hands on that cake."
He chuckled heartily at her threat and she couldn't help but smile. And it wasn't just an amused smile, or an impressed smile. It was a heart-fluttering, excited smile, which she knew she shouldn't be wearing. But something had snapped inside her when he had been right in front of her after she closed the door. There had been something in his eyes - in the air! - since then. Maybe she was imagining it; maybe she wasn't. Maybe she should ignore it… Maybe she couldn't.
"Earth to Gillian."
Cal's voice broke her out of her daze and she immediately turned to face him, forgetting his earlier instruction. She caught sight of the cake - candles burning - in the corner of her eyes and quickly turned back. "Sorry."
Cal laughed again and moved so he was standing beside her. "It's okay, love. I was telling you that you can turn around… Where was your mind?"
She caught the intonation in his question; the subtly implied innuendo about where her mind had been. She met his eyes as she turned round and repressed a shiver… Yes, she definitely couldn't ignore it.
"I was thinking about the cake," she lied, redirecting her attention to that item. Her eyes widened and a smile swept across her lips when she saw it.
She had noticed, in the brief glimpse, that it was a chocolate cake, but what she hadn't seen was written in pink icing, amongst the chocolate frosting on the top: 'Happy Birthday, Gill xx'.
"Imagining yourself diving into it fully clothed, were you?" Cal was saying.
She glanced at him, recognising his reference to a comment she once made. "Something like that."
His eyebrows twitched again, eyes knowing. "Something like that?" he echoed, but changed the emphasis. "Maybe without the clothes?"
A surprised laugh escaped her. For all the atmosphere had been electrified since he'd arrived, that comment had still managed to shock her. She shook her head at him and he grinned mischievously. She returned her attention to the cake but her mind was swirling with the images of what he had suggested.
"The kisses were my idea," Cal told her, sidling closer to her, his arm brushing against her.
Had she not been preoccupied, she might have instantly realised that he was referring to the message on the cake. As it was, kissing was featuring in her imaginings, so his mention of it caused her head to whip round to regard him with wide eyes.
A sparkling of his eyes told her he knew what was going on. "On the cake," he said slowly, waving a hand towards it.
She couldn't fight the blush that swept onto her cheeks and she glared at him before turning away.
Though he withheld the sound, she felt the rumble of his laughter through the contact of his arm on hers.
"Don't forget to make a wish, love," he reminded her as she stared at the cake, willing her head to stop with the images it seemed intent on teasing her with. It was the sugar, and the childish excitement about her birthday. She had to get some control of herself.
"Aren't you going to sing to me?" she asked him, her bottom lip protruding in a pout, but her eyes fixed on the cake - not daring to look at him again.
"You want to delay cake time to have me sing to you?" he enquired.
"Oh, good point. I have heard you sing."
Gillian released a yelp as, suddenly, the cake was pushed away from her, the flames flickering as it moved, and she was spun round and pinned between Cal and the table. He had begun to speak as he did it, "Right, for that -", but as she looked at him with wide eyed shock, his own surprise registered. He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes first studying hers, then glancing down at her lips - assuring Gillian that his reaction to their current position was much the same as hers.
His eyes returned to hers and she gripped the table top for extra support. Just the look in his eyes sent a tremble tumbling through her body; when he leaned in closer, she feared she was just going to collapse into a shaking heap.
He stopped his advance but not before his abdomen was barely a millimetre from being pressed against hers. Heat surged through her and she knew there was absolutely no way she had successfully hidden her response behind nonchalance. She wanted to eradicate the remaining distance herself - bad idea or not - and there was no chance that he couldn't see that written all over her face.
His voice was low when he continued speaking, and an underlying tremble indicated that he was struggling with restraint as much as she was. That just made her fight even more difficult.
"You are going to stand here while I sing to you," he picked up from his earlier half-sentence, "And you don't get any cake until I'm finished."
"You are cruel." She had hoped to respond with a degree of force behind her reprimand but it came out as nothing but a whisper.
He just grinned at her as he began, singing achingly slowly, "Happy birthday to you…" That first line wasn't too bad, but he made the second distinctly more out of tune and dragged it out even more. "Happy birthday to you…"
Under other circumstances, Gillian would have been giggling by this point, maybe swatting his arm playfully, or muttering for him to hurry up. But in her current situation she couldn't force laughter past her lips. His eyes had never once strayed from hers since he started singing and she was captivated by the battle she could see playing out in his mind. He had intended for this to be a cruel joke but hadn't exactly thought it through. Their proximity was killing him as it was her.
She knew that he would be well aware that it was crazy for them to be reacting this way. They had ventured into each other's personal space before; they had teased each other; they had flirted openly. But what was happening here had surprised both of them. Why was this moment different?
The intensity of Cal's warring emotions deepened as he began the next line of the song, seemingly hours after he had first started. "Happy birthday…" He stopped and a look of pain crossed his face in the split second before he tore his eyes from hers, closing them as his head dropped to his chest. "Dear Gillian," he mumbled, barely audibly, and she was just frowning at his words when a burst of laughter followed them and puzzled her even further.
"Cal?" she whispered - again not intending her voice to be so quiet.
"Dropping my head wasn't the best plan," he explained and, although Gillian felt the deep blush rush up from her chest, she couldn't help but laugh.
As if her response was permission, Cal laughed more and brought his head up so his eyes could capture Gillian's again.
"This is… weird, love," he commented, voicing her thoughts.
Gillian just nodded, not entirely sure she would be able to speak. Her entire being seemed to be tuned to Cal's proximity, a tingling warmth flowing round her body.
His laughter calming to a more serious expression, Cal asked her, "What's going on?"
If his eyes were anything to go by, then what was going on was that he felt exactly the same way she did. "I don't know," she told him, her words quiet again. When her immediate thought after that was, 'But I'd really like to find out,' she inhaled a breath and added, boldly - but nervously - "It's not like I've even made my wish yet."
Cal's eyes - which had been wandering her and the room, as if he wasn't quite sure where to look - shot back to hers in blatant hopeful question. Her body trembled as she swallowed, not exactly sure of the wisdom of what she was instigating - but completely sure that she couldn't step away from him now and pretend none of this happened.
"Oh, aye, love?" Cal queried, and if it weren't for the stutter to his words, Gillian could have believed he wasn't as nervous as she was. He leaned in closer to her and she resolutely kept her eyes focused on his. After swallowing shakily, he asked her, "This is your birthday wish is it?"
"Very close," she whispered back.
He raised one eyebrow. "Something like this?" he questioned; a deliberate echo of his earlier words, leaving her mind to imply for itself the next part of his query: Maybe without the clothes?
If she had thought that her heart was pounding before, the thundering in her chest now proved her wrong. It felt like an entire flock of birds was fluttering round her stomach, and she knew this was it. Her response now would determine what happened next. She hardly felt composed enough to hold such a responsibility. She tried to stop her breathing from shaking before she responded to him. "You know me…" She wasn't successful. "All my birthday wishes start with… having cake."
A smile slowly crept onto his lips, but she knew that he had interpreted that as a request to back off. In truth, she hadn't expected to say it, but she reasoned that she needed a moment to know what she was doing. She hoped he didn't think she meant to back off permanently. Or maybe it would be simpler if he did.
"Well you should blow out your candles then," he suggested, stepping backwards, permitting her space to turn around.
A very vivid alternative option of grabbing him and devouring his lips instead of the cake sprang to mind, and she forced herself to turn before she gave into to it. She braced herself on the edge of the table, both hands gripping the wood as she closed her eyes in an attempt to shake off the lingering images.
Cal's warmth returned to her left arm and she opened her eyes to see him situating the cake in front of her.
"Ready, darling?" he asked, his voice low, and so close to her ear.
She nodded, pretty sure she couldn't speak calmly if she tried to.
"Go on then… make that wish."
Her hands gripped the table top more tightly at his whispered words, as she willed herself to ignore the impulse to forget the cake. That wasn't who she was; it wasn't what they did. And she was supposed to be the sensible one.
Then Cal's hands appeared either side of her head, his fingers dancing across her cheeks as he swept her hair back. She was vaguely aware of him uttering something about not wanting it to get burned, as she quickly bent forward and extinguished the little flames with one breath. But all she was really focussing on was her next move: She turned, found his face and, without any more thought or hesitation, eliminated the space between them.
If he was shocked, she couldn't tell. His lips met hers with equal fervour, one of his hands threaded into her hair, grabbed the back of her head, held her close. The other was on her hip, then her back, then her ass. Hers explored his hair, his neck, his shoulders; sweeping, feeling, gripping, as they fought for control of the kiss. Tongues duelling; teeth nipping, pinching; lips gliding; air snatched at any opportunity. The room spinning…
Gillian realised, when her back hit the refrigerator, that it was in fact they that had been spinning. Cal's body pressed her into the hard door, their kiss unbroken. She shivered as he ran both hands down the sides of her chest, over her waist, resting them on her hips and pressing his abdomen into hers. Feeling that his reaction to this was as intense as hers only heightened her arousal, inciting a moan as she parted her legs, permitting him closer, allowing her to feel him where she longed for him. He groaned as well and snatched his kisses from her scorched lips, bestowing them instead on her jaw, along to her ear, to her neck. Her mouth, free to gasp for air, quickly became dry. Her attempt at swallowing was interrupted though by a trembling cry as he found a sensitive spot on her neck and delighted in studying it, teasing it - and her.
As her head fell back, it hit a magnet and she blindly reached for it, tossing onto the nearby counter. All the while, Cal's exploration continued, his mouth reaching the collar of her t-shirt. He kissed round the base of her neck, following the path of this barrier, while his hands slipped underneath the material at the other end, creeping up the skin of her waist, baring it as they moved. He brought his kisses up her neck as his fingers neared her breasts and she squirmed beneath his touch, wanting this, wanting more, wanting everything simultaneously.
His hands reached her bra, slipping to the front to take one mound each, massaging, teasing her alert nipples through the fabric. Then, with a release of a heavy, shaky, sigh by her ear, his ministrations stopped, hands stilling and slipping to hold her at the sides again. An ache swept though her and she tried to open heavy eyes for a clue as to why he had stopped. Then he whispered hoarsely to her, "You haven't had any cake," and he pulled his head back to look at her.
"Mmm," she responded to him, mind and body still trembling with desire, "It can wait."
He looked like he was using absolutely every drop of restraint he had to not be all over her right now, as his eyes bored into hers, seeking assurance that she wanted this. She would have thought - to a man with his skills - that would be obvious, but she appreciated the gesture, the nod to how much was changing here if they carried on.
To her surprise, she found that she wasn't worried about the change; that she had an overwhelming sense that it was about time. To convey that to him, she wrapped her hands around his arms, and lowered his hands back to her waist. Then she grasped her t-shirt and lifted it over her head. She almost laughed as she watched Cal try to do the gentlemanly thing and not allow his eyes to drop to her newly exposed chest. She smiled and rolled her eyes, and, with a chuckle, he allowed his eyes to do a sweep of the area, widening with appreciation, before finding their way back to hers.
"More beautiful than I'd imagined," he whispered, and with a smile creeping across her lips, she reached for his t-shirt and pulled it off.
She eyed him in the same way he had her, and then, eyes locked, remarked, "I could say the same."
Laughing as if her comment had surprised him, Cal stepped into her, squashing her delightfully between him and the refrigerator again. His hands found hers, either side of her body, entwining their fingers and pressing those, too, against the coolness of the door. His mouth less than an inch from hers; his body touching hers at every possible point; powerful desire screaming at her from every single nerve ending - and from the eyes fixed on hers - Gillian felt like she might explode at any second.
She leaned forward, to capture a kiss, but Cal leaned away. He seemed amused by the frustration he must have seen on her face, smirking before he placed his lips to hers in tender affection, a soft kiss, very different to their earlier ones. A whole other overwhelming emotion swept through Gillian, and her lips moved slowly, savouring the moment, returning the admission being made without words.
Minutes later, slow and tender began to build in intensity again, awareness of their half naked state creeping in, along with memories of their initial frenzy. The heat built until they both needed more than just the air they could sneak between kisses. Pulling back, breathing deeply, Cal's dark eyes met hers again. "Do you want to take this upstairs?" he asked her, all the while pressing her into the fridge, making it clear that he had no objections to staying right there, if she didn't. But he was leaving it up to her.
Did she really want their first time together to start up against her fridge, his warm, strong body pinning her against the hard door? Did she want him to take her there, or even on the smooth wood of her kitchen table? Her eyes darted in that direction and she felt her resounding answer to both those questions: Yes.
And Cal must have read it in her reaction, followed her thought process and her eyes. A low groan escaped him and he dropped his head to beside hers, kissing and nipping at her ear and the sensitive skin below it, before he admitted, gruffly, "You know, I have imagined you, on that table, since the day I helped you carry it in." He kissed her neck again. "And against this fridge since I arrived when you were working out, that time, and you came for a bottle of water." Another kiss. "And you were wearing your little shorts." His grip on her hands tightened, and her head fell back as he moved his kissed round her throat.
She tried to free her hands so she could hold him, touch him, rid him of his jeans, but he wouldn't let go, holding tighter, pushing himself harder against her. He brought his head up to kiss her again, sweeping his tongue along her lower lip, taking it between his teeth, before covering her mouth, tasting her, offering himself, deepening her arousal with each second.
He continued to thwart her attempts to release her hands, instead lifting them with his and resting them slightly higher than her head. She hoped the moan she released sounded frustrated and not just turned on, but she doubted it. She had never felt anything like the intensity of the desire coursing through her at that moment. And his mouth, now trailing down to her breasts, was continuing to add to it.
His teeth nipped at the first swell of flesh; he nudged his way between them, delivering kisses to both before sliding his tongue under the fabric of her bra, catching her left nipple. He repeated the action when she hummed - a mixture of delight and impatience. And soon, he was sucking her breast through her bra, grazing her nipple with his teeth…
In his crouched position, his erection bulged against Gillian's leg, and she rubbed her thigh along him, teasing him as he was her.
The rhythm of his sucking and kissing faltered; he let out a guttural growl and his hands dropped from hers, finding fast the fastener of her bra and shedding her of that. Once the bra was past her newly free hands, they fell to the fly of his jeans, while his did the same. Their lips found each other again as their fingers unbuttoned, unzipped and slipped past denim and underwear to find bare ass. Pushing in tandem, they had the material down their thighs and they parted, briefly, to maker quicker work of shedding their remaining clothing.
They took only a second to eye the other's naked form before Gillian was back against the fridge, magnets pressing into her bare skin. Cal's mouth was at her breasts again, one hand assisting with that exploration, the other sliding down her right thigh, to her knee, encouraging her to lift her leg. She obliged, wrapping it around him, bringing his erection up against her centre. They moved with each other, deepening their longing.
Cal switched hands at her breasts, then slid his right hand between them, trailing his fingertips through the moisture already pooled at her entrance. First one, then two, fingers inched inside her and Gillian's muscles clenched around them. She met his rhythm as he drew them out, then pushed them back in, her back sliding up and down the refrigerator door.
She felt every muscle of her abdomen contracting, each and every nerve of her body tingling, pressure building at her core… But she didn't want it like this.
"Cal," she breathed, managing to repeat it with more force when he clearly took the first one as a cry of pleasure.
His fingers stilled and he looked up at her, panic stricken. She smiled, reassuringly, sorry to have worried him. "Together," she insisted, softly.
He grinned at her, predatorily.
She whimpered when his fingers left her, but he soon had both her legs wrapped around him and had lifted her away from the fridge.
They kissed each other hungrily as he moved them, Gillian's hands playing in his hair, holding his head to hers so she could properly convey how much she wanted him.
They didn't part when he put her down on the edge of the table, taking some more time to feel, to touch, to taste. Then Cal positioned his hands on her hips and instructed her to lie back.
She took one more languorous kiss then allowed her body to drift back onto the hard surface. Her eyes opened for merely a split second before the sensation of Cal's touch at her entrance had them fluttering closed again. He stroked her, once, twice, then positioned himself and pushed inside.
She inhaled as he entered; he pulled her towards him and he moved in deeper. Her hands gripped his arms as he began to pump in and out to a regular beat. The angle meant that every thrust hit deep inside her, setting her nerves alight to an extent she hadn't known possible. He moved harder and deeper, and when he shifted one hand to seize her left breast, she let her arm drop to the side.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, her eyes flying open, as her elbow made contact with something soft and cold. She couldn't help laughing, causing the strangest tinglings deep within her. She looked at Cal, whose eyes were closed as he tried to calm down.
"You're laughing," he stated, in between ragged breaths, opening his eyes to see why.
She crossed her arm over her chest so he could see the chocolate frosting smeared across her elbow. And he laughed too.
He looked from her to the partially squished cake and quipped, "Mm. Without the clothes."
She rolled her eyes, then closed them when he moved inside her. But they shot open again when he took hold of her wrist and he encouraged her to raise herself onto her other elbow. She acquiesced and he dipped his head, his intention very clear.
"Wait!" she stopped him.
He raised an eyebrow in question, and moved again - probably just for good measure.
"It's my cake and you're going to taste it before I do."
She hadn't expected him to respond to her with a smile of complete adoration. She'd have accepted him thinking she was crazy - after all, did the rules of birthday cake decorum really need to be enforced now? As it was, though, he leaned over to the cake and scooped a blob of frosting onto his finger, then he brought that finger to her lips.
He had locked his eyes on hers, so she held his gaze as she opened her mouth and took in his finger. She closed her lips around him and swirled her tongue through the frosting. It was delicious to taste, but absolutely nothing compared to the warm shivers spreading throughout her body as Cal recommenced the movement of his hips.
She licked and sucked his finger in time with his actions and watched his eyes darken further. He thrust harder and she cried out, releasing his hand. He grasped her wrist, holding her arm still and brought his mouth to the chocolate. He began gently sucking on her lower arm then moved, his tongue sweeping round her elbow. She was amazed how tantalising she found it as he sucked and licked all of the chocolate from her skin.
When he was finished, he dropped her arm and it landed across her stomach.
"Now," he asked her, gripping her hips again, "Where were we?"
She smiled up at him. "Making my birthday wish come true?"
There was something mysterious behind the grin he offered her, and she found out why when he said, "Well in that case…" and leaned across for some more frosting.
This time he smeared it round both her breasts and in a line down her body, from her chest to where she met him.
At her questioning look, he explained, "All your wishes involve having cake, right?"
She tightened her inner muscles and her legs around him and revelled in his sharp intake of breath. "Mm-hmm," she affirmed, "And eating it too."