It wasn't just her looks, although Remy wasn't fooling anyone when she said, weeks later, that she'd never looked down her shirt.
Least of all House. He kept his mouth shut, but they both knew that he saw right through her. After all, Lisa was his. Remy was only temporary. A toy. Not like House.
I'd never imagined that I would actually land in her pants... er, skirt.
But here she was, in the upstairs bedroom of the Dean of Medicine, sandwiched between the legs of one Lisa Cuddy, who was herself sandwiched between House at her mouth and Remy at her core. And all of this was eliciting the most delightful sounds. Whimpers so helpless, moans so raw that Remy would have sworn it were someone else. If it weren't for those thick, dark curls.
It was intimidating, seeing her boss naked for the first time. Her male boss. Cuddy was one thing - a gorgeous thing - but House was quite another. She would never entirely get over seeing him drop his trousers and attack Cuddy's - Lisa's - lips. It was the shock of thinking sexually about him, in a personal sense, like never before. All that followed was less memorable. Later, Remy's memory of sucking his cock would be indistinct, but that first lunge would remain forever imprinted.
She was really in this for Lisa. This was something she and House had in common. It was Lisa who wanted them both at the same time. House acted blasé, and his arousal at sleeping with two pretty women was no act, but he was a little uncomfortable with the idea of sex with a subordinate. And, though he knew that Remy was attractive, he just wasn't particularly attracted to her. Remy could sense it; she reciprocated the feeling. But both parties ignored their misgivings for Lisa's sake. And as much as she would allow it, they focused their attentions upon her.
All in all, the sex was nothing to write home about. It wasn't drunken, and it wasn't a sleepover, both of which were good signs. And she enjoyed making Lisa Cuddy writhe. Not just because it was Lisa's first time with a woman, but because she was Lisa Cuddy. The unsinkable. The diplomat. The tender-hearted. Most importantly, the boss.
Not in the bedroom.
Remy had had a lot of sex before. In many different configurations. This time, it was unremarkable. Good, but unremarkable all the same. Both of her partners were very skilled, to be sure, but even so, Remy was mostly in it for the novelty. Two bosses with one stone, or something like that.
At least, that's what she told herself. Remy couldn't afford to think about her own emotions. She kept that jar locked.
In truth, she didn't want to know. She didn't want to realize her feelings toward yet another emotionally unavailable person. She didn't want to revisit Lisa's orgasm-face in her dreams. Looking up from between sticky thighs to see her curl back, gasping and shuddering, was enough. Once was enough. It had to be.
She didn't want to think about Cuddy and House - for she always thought of them in professional contexts - making love without her. Remy didn't have time to fritter like that. She had a world to save, or at least a party to attend, before the hourglass ran out. She didn't have time for pain.
So she grinned at what a good lay she'd had, donned her lab coat, and went to work. A file on the table, a bastard at the whiteboard - one of the bastards, anyway - and a Remy Hadley as blithe as a bowl full of secrets. Business as usual.
