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It was mid-afternoon at PPTH, and Cameron had some lab results to show House and the rest of the team. She walked briskly through the hallway, knowing he’d want the information as quickly as possible, as their patient wasn’t doing so hot, already seizing twice in the space of 6 hours…
But when she got to his office, it was empty, as was the conference room. No Eric or Chase, either. Hmm. She paged House, and then sat in his visitor’s chair, letting her mind wander as she waited for him to either page her back, or to put in an appearance…
They’d been going out for about 2 and a half months, now. It had been that long since the day she’d spotted him in the hallway, mooning over Stacy and her hubby for the umpteenth time, and she’d decided enough was enough. Clearly, he wasn’t over his ex. How could she compete with that? So, Allison had done the only thing she could think of – she’d gone up to him and told him how she felt.
“I thought you were too screwed up to love anyone. But I was wrong….You just couldn’t love me….It’s good…I’m happy for you.”
And then she’d gone back to work. Trying to move on. And later gone home, trying not to feel.
But then, an hour after she’d finished dinner, there had come the now-familiar rap of wood on wood, and she’d opened the door to see him standing there. He hadn’t said anything at first, just looked at her with those molten cobalt eyes. And then he’d casually leaned his cane against the doorjamb, before almost roughly grabbing her by the shoulders, yanking her forward against him, and kissing her hard….and when he pulled back, all he’d said by way of explanation was, “You were wrong…again.”
He’d spent the night with her, and while he’d acted no differently towards her at work the next day, she’d occasionally seen a brief glimpse of tenderness in his eyes when he looked at her…still, she might have doubted that there’d ever be more than that one night between them, except that he called her that very night to ask her to come over to his place. And she had. And they’d been spending most weeknights and nearly every weekend together ever since.
He still acted no differently at work towards her, and she had learned by now to keep her mouth shut, so she was fairly sure no one – not even Wilson – knew that she and House were currently involved with each other. Which was fine by her. All the intrusive questions, not to mention all the bets she knew had been placed on what would happen between her and House, had gotten on her nerves after their first semi-disastrous date, and she didn’t need that ongoing distraction if she was going to continue working at PPTH and dating House…
Snapping back to the present time, Allison realized that more than five minutes had passed. And there’d been no sign of House, no answering page, nothing. Wondering if maybe she should go look for him, she got up and started to stalk around his office. Idly browsing the titles on his bookshelves, the list of tunes on his iPod. Strolling over to the window to gaze out at the view…Finally deciding that she’d better search for him, she turned from the window, and that was when she spotted the medical file on his desk….and saw the name on it.
Allison Sarah Cameron.
He’s checking up on my medical history? Again? What the hell for? He’d done that once before, investigating to see if she’d ever been pregnant, looking for an explanation as to her reaction to the baby epidemic several months back…now what was he up to? Allison was trying not to get angry, but…We’ve been going out for more than 2 months, and he’s still going behind my back?
Of course, it was at that precise moment that House walked into the room – thankfully alone. She held up her file, showing it to him. “Still trying to solve the puzzle of me, Dr. House?” Trying not to get more angry, trying not to let anger show in her voice.
He looked down at the floor as he limped further into the room. Stopping just on the other side of the desk. “You paged me just to yell at me?” He actually looked uncomfortable, for once, but that wasn’t good enough for Allison. Not when they’d been knocking pelvises for weeks.
“No, I came to show you those.” Stabbing her finger at the printouts she’d dropped onto his desk chair. “Instead, I find out that you’re still going behind my back, still trying to dig up ‘the dirt’ on me.”
“Appearances can be deceiving, Dr. Cameron,” was all he said. Taking his Vicodin bottle out of his pocket and popping a pill. Which made her even angrier – she knew what that meant - he was, indirectly, telling her that she was an annoyance.
She knew if she stayed, she’d start yelling – about how he was too much the scared 8-year-old to trust her, that instead of digging around on the sly, he ought to ask her directly if he wanted to know something, that going behind her back felt like a betrayal…maybe she’d even dare to question their relationship. She’d known all too many men in her dating history who were happy to sleep with her, but didn’t want anything more than that. Certainly not love. Was House’s underhanded perusal of her medical records somehow an indication that this relationship was also nothing more than ‘horizontal activities’, to him?
But if she started yelling, people would notice. The game would be up. The whispers and looks in the hallway would start again. And she couldn’t bear the thought of that right now. So, she did the only thing she could do. She scooped up her file from House’s desk, and left his office.
She did her best to avoid him the rest of the day, or at least, to only be in his presence with Chase and Foreman, as he’d be unable to confront her with them around.
She usually visited him this evening of the week, but she called and left a brief message on his answering machine before he got home, canceling her visit, and instead she hung out with one of the few girlfriends she had in the city…better that than waiting at home to see if he’d call her back, or if he’d show up and try to overwhelm her again, the way he had at the start of their ‘relationship’….if one could even legitimately call it a relationship, all things considered.
Maybe I’m just his ‘consolation prize’, she thought darkly to herself later that night (with no messages on her answering machine from him, as yet), trying to fall asleep. That explains how he’s been able to drop his obsessive stalking of Stacy, just to pursue me. He can’t have her, but he’s got naïve little Alli to spread her legs for him, so why not take advantage? Cheaper than a whore from the red-light district….But then she arrested that train of thought, knowing from prior experience that only depression lay down that particular road…and why should she go there, put herself through that, for a ‘bitter old cripple’ like him?
The next day, she somehow still managed to avoid being alone with House, for the entire workday. And was relieved by this. Let him diagnose and treat his actual patients, not her. She was not a medical case.
Luckily, their current patient kept her busy for much of the day. No time to feel anger at House. No time for the depressive thoughts or self-doubt to creep in again…and for that, she was grateful…
Her shift was almost done when she was paged to the clinic, to Exam Room Two. Which was rather curious, since it was 5:08p.m., and the clinic should have been closing up shop for another day, but….she had nothing better to do at the moment. Nothing to do but go home and stare blankly at the TV, unless she could find something else to do with herself…
She walked into Exam Room Two, noting absently that its blinds were closed, and then paused a few paces in, surprised to find no one there at first glance – no patient, no doctor waiting to speak with her. She turned around when she heard the door automatically lock behind her, and then realized House was sitting on a wheeled stool in the little recessed nook next to the door.
Damn, this is all a set-up. But I suppose I may as well have it out with him, and then get the hell out of here. “Dr. House. You paged me?” Trying to keep her cool. The clinic was rapidly emptying, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t get discovered if she started yelling.
“Yes. When I pulled your file, I saw that you haven’t visited a general practitioner in years. And I can’t have someone working for me if their health isn’t top-notch. It’s ‘poor advertising’, at the very least.” He tapped his cane lightly on the floor as he spoke.
“You pulled my file just for that?” Allison asked, shaking her head. He must be trying to misdirect me.
“Yes. Your health is very important to me, Dr. Cameron. So much so, that I am going to rectify the lack of a check-up right now.” So saying, he pushed himself up off the stool, and headed towards the counter next to him, where Allison realized he had her file once again. But this time it had a standard check-up form in it, waiting to be filled out.
He’s going to examine me? What the Hell? “Don’t tell me you’re going to give me my check-up.”
House was in the middle of placing a stethoscope around his neck, but turned to meet her eyes with a commanding gaze. “That was my plan, yes.” Neutral tone, like it was of no consequence. Like he did this all the time with other hospital employees. “But I can’t examine you with all that clothing in the way. Take off everything but your underwear.” And then he turned back, to scribble some notes in her file.
What the Hell? she repeated to herself. Was he toying with her? Was he serious? Had she been overreacting to this whole thing, since discovering her file in his office yesterday?
House had turned back to her again, impatience in his voice. “Dr. Cameron. I told you to get out of those clothes. Now.”
The commanding note in his voice, coupled with the look in those burning crystal eyes of his, compelled her to do as he said.
When she was stripped down to bra, panties, and trouser socks only, she looked around for an examination gown, but there weren’t any in evidence. “Isn’t the patient supposed to get some kind of robe or something, to wear over their underwear?” she asked him, watching him hitch towards her – he’d left his cane propped against the counter.
“You won’t be needing it.” he said curtly. He motioned her towards the scale. “Height and weight first.”
Not knowing what to feel, she obeyed him, feeling him adjust the metal bar against the top of her head first, measuring her height. Then he started moving the metal weights on the scale around, getting them to balance just right. He then directed her to sit on the exam table against the opposite wall, as he limped back to her file. “You’re getting on the thin side for your height, Dr. Cameron,” he informed her, as she settled herself down on the table. Suddenly very conscious of her plain white bra and panties. But he didn’t seem to care, so she focused on his words, instead. “Stop skipping your lunches. We can’t have you collapsing in the middle of trying to treat someone.” He leveled a stern gaze at her.
“Yes, Dr. House.” she said. Deciding to play along, at least for now. At least until she figured out what he was up to…if anything.
He limped over to the table, holding a couple instruments in his hands. He ordered her to look straight ahead, shining a small light into one eye, then the other. He had to lean close to her to do so, and the familiar scent of him assailed her senses, musk and cologne and coffee, but she didn’t let on that it was affecting her. Act as detached as him. If their relationship really was over, she’d be damned if she gave him the satisfaction….
His next task was the check her ears, and he moved over to her side, brushing her hair out of the way nonchalantly, and then she felt the cool tube of the instrument sliding into her ear. Then he moved to her other side to repeat his examination.
Next, he put the stethoscope in his ears, and then picked up the blood pressure cuff off the exam table, wrapping it around her left arm, and pressing the cold stethoscope just below it. The cuff tightened, tightened….Allison tried to control her breathing, tried to relax. No need to let him think she was aroused by this….although if she was truthful to herself, yes, she was a little aroused. Despite her recent unpleasant thoughts towards him.
He let the pressure on the cuff ease, removed it, and then limped back over to the counter again, to make more notes in her file. She watched him, noting despite herself the strange grace with which he moved. Trying not to act too interested, though.
Returning to the exam table once again, this time he directed her to sit with her side facing him, and her legs stretched out straight on the table. She flinched a little when the cold stethoscope touched her back, but he didn’t comment, just instructed her to breathe deeply. She could feel the cold circle of metal moving as he listened in a few spots. She managed not to jump as he moved to her front to listen to her heartbeat, although the metal still felt cold….They couldn’t have made these damn things out of something else, something warmer? she thought to herself.
But then House was taking the stethoscope off and looping it over his neck again, and he ordered her to lie back on the table, as he went to take down more notes.
Allison tried to settle herself comfortably. She’d felt OK on her own two feet, or even sitting up, but now, lying down….somehow, she felt more vulnerable. A little nervous, even. Which was silly, because what could he possibly do to hurt her? Even if he was stronger than her – which he was – the bum leg kind of evened the score…
Before long, he was back at her side again, this time starting to attach several electrodes to her. “EKG.” he said shortly, at her questioning look (not that she didn’t know what he was doing – she was a doctor, after all - she was just wondering why he thought she needed an EKG). And then he busied himself with the device, as Allison again tried to relax. Again not wanting her heart rate to give away any anxiety or…other emotions.
Satisfied, he finally removed the electrodes from her, and then began testing her reflexes with a small mallet. Checking her elbows, wrists, spreading her legs open to check her knees, her ankles, even running the end of the mallet handle up the undersides of her feet – she always hated that – to see if her feet would curl in reaction.
And then checking her lymph nodes. Which made her both more uncomfortable, and more aroused, though she tried to fight it. His hands were warm and callused and sure on her flesh, palpating her neck, her armpits (he paused and took her wrists in both hands, raising her arms above her head, before starting to examine that area), her belly – she flinched a little and giggled (it tickled) – but his face looked totally blank, as if she was just another anonymous clinic patient. And she didn’t know whether to be relieved or irritated by that. And yet, her arousal was definitely increasing…
He directed her to sit up again, and then reached for a syringe that he’d left beside the exam table. “Your tetanus shot is due.” She stiffened a little – it was one thing to give people shots, but quite another to receive one…and the thought briefly flashed in her mind, that maybe it wasn’t a tetanus shot, that maybe he planned to drug her and have his way with her. Have one last go at her, now that their relationship might be over….but then she berated herself for being paranoid. And House had already quickly and efficiently swabbed her arm and given her the shot, in any case.
He limped away again, this time taking a seat on the stool and wheeling it over to sit at the counter, picking up his pen and scribbling yet more information in her medical records.
She didn’t feel any different, so she supposed he hadn’t drugged her…or that it was a slow-working agent. Just stop, she told herself. Stop scaring yourself.
“Any allergies?” he asked.
“No.”
“Smoker?”
“No.”
“Drug use?”
“No.” Starting to get annoyed with him. They’d been going out a couple months, didn’t he already know the answer to most of these questions?
“Alcohol?”
“A couple drinks every now and then.”
“On birth control?”
She just stared at his back silently, getting angrier by the minute, until he turned and looked at her. “I would think, Dr. House,” she said, voice tightly controlled, “that you already know the answer to that question.”
Unfazed, he turned back to her file, muttering “’No’ to the Pill, then,” to himself as he scribbled.
“Are you currently engaging in any sexual activities, Dr. Cameron?” Looking at her with a completely blank face as he asked the question.
Allison continued to stare at him, wondering what kind of game he was playing, now. “You know I’m having sex.”
He turned away from her, scribbling rapidly. “And are you satisfied with your current lover? He meeting your needs?” Still casual.
How to answer? Not answer at all, just throw her clothes on and leave? Stay, but just brush it off? Take this as an opportunity to question his agenda for their relationship (i.e. sex-only, or more than that)? Take the opportunity to try and find out if they still had a relationship (assuming she still even wanted one with him)? Ask him if she was just a replacement for the one person (Stacy) he wanted, but couldn’t have?
He was still waiting. So she decided to brush it off, and leave. Fuck this, she thought. I’m tired of his games. So, she shook her head at him and said, “Weren’t you there? Or was it that other Gregory House that I fucked? I always get the two of you confused.” And she jumped down off the table, heading towards the chair where she’d left her clothes piled.
She started to pull her shirt on, hearing him get up off the stool and limp in her direction, but she ignored him, determined to get dressed and leave.
>Instead of coming over, he limped past her, and moments later she heard him say “STOP,” in that commanding voice of his.
She turned to see him standing next to the exam table, cane hooked carelessly over his arm, stethoscope still draped over his neck. “Get back here.” he said more casually, patting the surface of the exam table. “We’re not done.”
No effing way, she thought. Continuing to dress herself. “What? ‘Every EKG lies’, now, Dr. House?”
“We’re not done. And unless you want to get fired, I suggest you listen. I won’t have you seeing patients unless I clear you to work. And lose the clothes again.” Indicating her shirt and half-pulled-on pants with his cane.
Bastard. Slowly and reluctantly removing the pants and shirt yet again, and tossing them back on the chair. Obeying him as he directed her to get back on the exam table, once again sitting with her side facing him and her legs stretched out.
“Put your head back.” he said to her.
His instruction was so incongruous, that for a moment she just sat there unmoving. What kind of test required her to do that? “What?”
He didn’t answer, just entwined his hand into her long hair, and then pulled firmly but carefully on it until her head was tilted up and back. Until she couldn’t see anything but the ceiling above her, couldn’t see what he was going to do.
A shocked gasp came out of her as she felt House’s mouth – prickly stubble, lips like soft warm leather, slickly wet tongue – on her throat, and she almost resisted him, almost fought him off…but his grip on her hair didn’t slacken…and the answering jolt she felt in her belly, between her thighs, told her that she wanted this. Feeling her inhibitions, her anger, the uncertainty, melt away, with the familiar feel of his mouth gently suckling her skin, the familiar scent of him all around her, the heat of him against her side.
He busied himself licking wet lines along her throat and the side of her neck that he could easily reach, and then nibbling carefully at her earlobe, at the bony ridge of her collarbone, at her neck. And then switching tactics again, now pressing feathery kisses against the underside of her jaw, the hollow of her throat. Allison felt her heart-rate speeding up, her breathing increasing, her skin heating as her arousal deepened.
He pulled away, but he was still holding her head back by the hair, so she couldn’t look down to see his expression. “You seem to be getting hot, Dr. Cameron. A little feverish? Don’t worry, I have the cure.”
She was unable to answer with anything other than a low moan, as she felt him undoing the clasp of her bra one-handed and pulling it down and off her arms. Then she gave another loud gasp, feeling the cold end of the stethoscope on one of her nipples. “Hush,” he admonished her, stroking the rapidly hardening bud with the cold metal, and releasing his grip on her hair. “I paid the janitor fifty bucks to look the other way while we were in here, but even on my salary, I can’t pay off the whole hospital if everyone comes running to investigate the strange noises in Exam Room Two after hours.”
“I’ll do my best, Dr. House,” she said, relieved to see that familiar tender look in his eyes, despite the fact that his voice was still casual, detached. As if using the stethoscope in such a fashion was part of any thorough check-up.
He stroked her other nipple with the metal, as well, making her shiver at the mix of pleasurable and cold sensations, gooseflesh rising on her skin, and then he directed her to lie back once more. He grasped her wrists and raised her arms above her head, just as he had when he’d been checking her lymph nodes, but this time his left hand closed firmly around both of her wrists, pinning them together and down on the soft surface of the exam table. And he didn’t let go. She squirmed a little against his grip, not really uncomfortable, but feeling the thrill of anticipation coiling in her belly.
Holding her down, he leaned over her and started applying his lips to her breasts, sucking their aching tips and then moving to other delights: gentle nibbles on the firm little buds, trailing his tongue wetly around each areola. He then traced the fingertips of his free hand along each of her ribs, and then moved lower, drawing more wet circles with his tongue on her quivering belly, while his free hand now busied itself sliding her panties down and off of her…All the while, she tried to keep her noises down, as he had warned her, wondering how far he was going to take this…
House released her wrists, but told her to leave her arms where they were, and then he limped further down along the side of the exam table, both hands now massaging her inner thighs (the familiar rasp of his calluses on her flesh somehow almost as comforting as the massage itself), and then gradually working their way downward. Strong fingers digging sensually into the muscles of her calves, and then working her feet in the way he knew she liked best (there were definite advantages to them having been sexual partners for some time), and Allison let her eyes close as the sensations flowed through her. Even then, she felt his gaze on her like warm ocean water, engulfing her, taking in every movement of her body, every expression on her face, enjoying her every reaction...
There was a pause, and she heard him pull the stool over until he could sit facing her, between her feet. She kept her eyes closed, even as his strong hands took hold of her hips, pulling her closer until her buttocks were at the edge of the exam table. And then his grip shifted, one hand pinning her left knee against the wall, the plaster cool against her skin, and his left hand holding her other thigh pinned down against the table for a moment, before dropping away.
She thought she knew what was coming, and tensed a little in anticipation, expecting to feel his lips or his tongue right on the spot where she ached for him most. But instead, she had to bite off a loud groan, jumping a little in surprise as, instead of his warmth, she felt instead the icy kiss of the stethoscope on her clit.
Her eyes shot open, watching him smirk as he stroked her sensitive bud with the cold metal, and she moaned quietly as he then used it on other parts of her labia, paying particular attention to the tender inner lips.
“God, Greg.” she said. How could anything that was so wrong feel so good? Watching as he finally removed the stethoscope end from her skin, bringing it to his mouth to lick her juices from its surface.
“Wouldn’t want to waste any,” he said nonchalantly, blue eyes meeting hers. “Gonna need it for the ‘lab tests’. Excuse me while I gather some more ‘specimens’.” And then he pitched the stethoscope onto the counter behind him, and grabbed her ass, pulling her hard against his mouth.
She had to stifle her whimpers and moans as he feasted on her, tongue moving in long sweeps all over her tender skin, stubble like sandpaper against her. He pushed his tongue deep inside her, searching for every last drop of juice that he could find, and then switched to her clit, teasing it with a series of small suckings, the noises his wet mouth made on her skin somehow both amusing and arousing at the same time.
He had her right on the edge, when he stopped. Waited until her breathing slowed, her muscles relaxed. Uh-oh, she knew from two-and-a-half months what that meant. It meant he was going to keep teasing her, bringing her to the edge, letting her cool down, and then doing it all over again. Not that she minded, but staying quiet was going to get pretty challenging…
When she had calmed down enough to suit him, he got up, limping back over to her side. He put his hand under her neck, pressing upward and making her tilt her head back once more, and then he began working his mouth against her throat again, first rubbing his stubble against her, and then letting his tongue soothe the burn.
Once again unable to see what he was doing, she started a little, clamping her lips shut on a cry, as she felt him slide two fingers deeply into her. He moved them slowly back and forth a few times, twisting them gently inside her, and then he removed them…and she jumped a little in surprise, as she felt him unexpectedly spreading her warm, scented juices on her breasts.
He performed this action a few times, easing his fingers inside her and coating them, and then anointing her breasts….and then he released his grip on the back of her neck and slid his mouth down, stubble rubbing lightly against her, and proceeded to greedily lick her breasts clean, busy fingertips finding her clit again, and stroking on and around it in small rapid circles…
She was squirming, moaning, even panting as he teased her, as his attentions brought her close to the edge again…and as she had predicted earlier, he left her hanging at the brink once more.
She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, listening to the thump-step of him moving away, as she tried to relax her tense muscles. He’d satisfy her eventually, she knew, which alleviated some of the frustration. And she also knew when he did allow her to climax, it would be intense….but it was still tempting to beg him to finish her. She resisted, though, knowing that he wouldn’t heed her, not on this matter.
Opening her eyes, she saw that he was rummaging around on the counter. His back was to her, so she couldn’t tell what he was doing at all. And then he was limping rapidly towards her, holding something in his free hand, but his hand was behind his back and she couldn’t really see what he had…
Once he was back between her legs, he held up his hand, showing her what was in it. It was the instrument he’d used to check her eyes and ears…or rather, the thick handle of the instrument…covered in a condom. “Allison,” he said, licking his lips and looking vaguely nervous for the first time. “Do you trust me?”
She looked first into his face, noting the tenderness was back in his eyes. Then at the implement he was so eager to put inside her. Even through the condom he’d slipped over it, she could see the tens, possibly hundreds, of small nubs dotting the surface of the handle. The handle wasn’t too long or too thick…Allison thought it might actually feel rather…interesting…inside of her.
So she looked into his face again, and said, “Yes. I trust you.”
“OK. You let me know the instant it hurts, or even feels uncomfortable, and I’ll stop.” He was trying to put the air of detachment back on, but he was failing.
Didn’t matter. Allison closed her eyes again, as he settled himself back on the stool. She felt him lean his rough cheek on her thigh, the one propped against the wall, and she could feel his burning gaze on her most private regions, as he intently watched what he was doing to her, as well as her reaction.
He started by running the side of the handle slowly over her clit, and she moaned as the little nubs on it – probably intended to improve the doctor’s grip, particularly when they were wearing latex gloves, she thought disjointedly – brushed against her node. God, that feels good. Raising her hips and arching her back, letting House know that this was damn fun….
After some moments of this careful teasing, he pulled the instrument away…and then he was slowly and cautiously sliding the blunt tip of it inside her, the nubs stimulating the sensitive ring of flesh just inside the entrance to her sex, the handle pushing deep into her. Occasionally, his head turning against her thigh, kissing the delicate skin there, before resuming his watchful gaze…
Oh. My. God. she thought. Who would’ve thought that getting sodomized with medical instruments would feel so good?
House continued to move the instrument carefully in and out of her, no doubt cataloguing every twitch of her hips, every clench of her inner muscles around his makeshift toy, every gasp and squirm and moan and shudder of pleasure.
He started to twist the handle inside her, very very gently, and the added stimulation actually made her see stars behind her closed eyes…and then his free hand started to lightly stroke her clit. Which only made the muscles inside her tense up even more, increasing the stimulation of the nubs on the handle against her inner walls…
The pleasure built and built, and Allison knew somehow that House wasn’t going to deny her this time…when he replaced his hand with his mouth, again teasing her clit with brief sucks, in time with the motion of the instrument within her, she couldn’t hold back any longer, biting hard on her lower lip to stifle her cry of passion, riding the crest of the wave of delight coursing through her, everything in her body and mind turning white-hot as that wave finally crashed on the shore….
She came gradually back to herself, limbs leaden with the afterglow. House had already taken his ‘toy’ out of her, and was gently stroking her damp skin. He smirked smugly at her. “Well, there’s one for the medical textbooks.” He winked at her, and then got back up onto his feet.
“I have one last ‘test’ to run, just to make sure all your reproductive organs are ‘functioning within normal limits’,” he said to her, still smirking. “Got my own special ‘device’ for that,” he continued, starting to undo his pants. Allison watched as he disrobed, first pushing his jeans and boxers down to his knees, and then using the end of his cane to push them the rest of the way off his legs, and then out of the way…she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d left his blazer and the rest of it on, but apparently he wanted both of them completely naked, as soon blazer, button-down, and tee shirt were all in a pile on the floor. He then quickly rolled another condom onto his new, flesh-and-blood, ‘device’, before stepping back between her thighs.
“Alli,” he said, voice low and soft, and she looked into his face once again. “Are you ready for me? Or do you need some more recovery time?” His erection was hot and insistent against her thigh, but she knew he’d wait on her, if she needed that.
“Give it to me, big boy.” She grinned at him.
“Yes, ma’am.” he said, sliding himself into her in one deep firm stroke.
They thrust against each other, Allison gripping onto the table above her head for added leverage, House leaning his weight against the table edge as much as possible, to take some pressure off his bad thigh. The friction of him inside her was utterly delicious, and she had to fight to keep her eyes open so that she could watch Greg as his own arousal built towards climax, his skin rapidly flushing and dampening with sweat, his musky smell rising to mix with hers in the small room, his own panting breaths echoing her own…
They were both approaching climax, when Greg suddenly hoarsely ordered her to give him her hands. Without missing a stroke, he seized her offered hands and pulled her up to a sitting position, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her tightly against his chest, kissing her for the first time in nearly two days. God, I missed that…I missed him, she thought, wrapping her legs around his waist, tilting her head back to give him her throat once again, as their respective orgasms came rushing towards them.
She came first, muffling her sounds against one of his sinewy shoulders, trembling uncontrollably as the wave of pleasure swamped her again, taking all thought away with it….and as soon as she came down, she felt Greg achieve his own climax, giving one final rough thrust inside her, and then stopping dead, pulsing deep inside her, arms tight around her and mouth hard against her neck ….
He released her, pulling out of her flesh and collapsing down on the stool, breathing hard…and looking at her with what could only be affection. And she felt any lingering doubts about the status of their relationship being swept away by that look in his eyes…
A comfortable silence reigned as they both caught their breath, letting their bodies cool and their heart rates return to normal.
House finally got up off the stool, heading to the counter to close her file, and then coming back with wipes so she could cleanse herself. They both got dressed, still in that companionable silence, her finished somewhat before him – less layers, and no bum leg…when he finished, he snagged his cane from where he’d left it propped against the wall next to the exam table, and then he came over to her, wrapping his free arm around her.
“I’ve been planning this for a couple days,” he explained quietly, his gaze flickering between her face and the floor, as if embarrassed. “My diabolical plan was to do this ‘check-up’ thing all along, but I figured if we got caught early on, and I had on hand proof that you needed to see a G.P., well…” he let his voice trail off. “It sounds like a dumb excuse now, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I wasn’t trying to go behind your back, Alli. But I didn’t want to tell you, either, thought it would be more fun as a surprise…”.
She took his face in her hands, kissing him. Kicking herself mentally for ever doubting him. Sure, Greg could be an asshole, could lie, could be sneaky….and yet, the truth was that she trusted him. She knew, somehow, that if he’d had a real problem with their relationship, he would’ve discussed it with her… he was not the kind of guy to keep his mouth shut when he was unhappy or dissatisfied with something…and if he was only interested in sex, and nothing else, he probably wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble for her….. And that knowledge, coupled with the tenderness she saw on his face, in his eyes….he loved her. He hadn’t said it, and maybe he never would, but it didn’t matter. She knew.
“Well, I must say, this whole thing-“ she gave a wave of her hand, indicating the whole of Exam Room Two, and by extension, everything they’d just done in it, “- was quite the apology. And it’s too bad that I get only one check-up a year.” Looking up into his face, smiling at him.
A slow smirk spread across his face, and he tucked his cane between their bodies, raising his right hand to brush his knuckles gently across her cheek. “Never fear, Dr. Cameron, we still have your ‘official’ gynecological exam to schedule….”