McGee decided it was time to get back to his typewriter. Shiloh was content to doze in and out while indulging her True Blood addiction. Abby had thoughtfully given her the first season box set as an early Christmas present. It was just after Thanksgiving. He tried to shake the fog out of his brain and concentrate on the task at hand. The last time he seriously gave his writing any effort he had suffered from an agonizing case of writers block, and it was still plaguing him.
Shiloh was extremely respectful about what she called his "Author Time". For the last few weeks all he had done was fill pages of notes, he couldn't get the plots to merge. Correction, he could make them merge, but not in any way that made sense. Sheet after sheet of paper went through his shredder. His records were no help. All the normal trappings only distracted him. He leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his hands over his face.
"How about this; It was a dark and stormy night…" He muttered. "Or, once upon a time…"
"Or, a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away." McGee turned.
"Hey. I'm not keeping you up am I?"
"Are you kidding? It's barely one o'clock. I'm pretty nocturnal."
"God it feels so much later." She stood behind him and began to rub his neck and shoulders.
"A word of advice from my song writing days, if you try to force it, it makes it worse." She told him softly. "It might be different circumstances, but the principle is pretty much the same."
"Yeah I know." Her hands found a knot. "Ohhh, right there."
"Lot of tension you're holding on to." McGee just groaned while her clever fingers worked on his aching muscles. "Mr. Gemcity, you need to give your poor tired brain a break." She slid her hands up his neck and massaged his scalp.
"I'll do whatever you say just don't stop doing what you're doing." She laughed.
"Really, whatever I say?"
"Well within reason." She slid into his lap, straddling him.
"I'm not feeling very reasonable." McGee swallowed as she toyed with the buttons on his shirt.
"Everything's open to discussion."
"Do you really feel like talking right now?" She took his hand and kissed each of his fingertips. It was an innocent gesture she did sometimes before they drifted off to sleep together. But now, each touch of her lips sent shock waves through his system.
"No, I really don't."
"You should relax before you try to write. Stress clouds the mind." His wandering hands discovered she wasn't wearing a bra.
"Oh man, things are definitely cloudy right now," he breathed. "Did you come out here with the intent to seduce me?"
"No, I came out to soothe your fragile writer's ego. And hunt up some popcorn. But if you want me to stop…"
"Don't you fucking dare." He leaned in for a kiss. He felt her hands slide across his chest and wondered when his shirt had been opened. He cupped her breasts and grinned when he heard her gasp. He pulled her thin tee shirt off and trailed his fingers across her skin.
"I love when you touch me like this," She purred.
"I can't get enough of you." He ran his thumb down her throat, feeling her pulse race. She undid his jeans and began to stroke his arousal. "Oh Shy…" His blood felt like it was pounding through his veins. Her hands flipped every switch on in his body, and when her lips and tongue and teeth began to hit his hot spots on the rest of him he started to squirm.
"Ready?"
"God yes." In a moment she was out of her shorts. His breath caught in his throat while she eased him inside of her. For a moment neither one of them moved, they just sat embraced in the most intimate way. She began moving her hips slowly, letting her head fall back with a long, low moan. He wrapped his arms around her back and feasted on her. Every sound she uttered excited him more. When he lavished attention on her nipples she cried out his name. Her hands gripped his shoulders and she sped up her rhythm. He thought she tasted like pure sin, dark and potent. Her eyes glowed like she was enchanted.
"You're like some sort of sex witch." He blurted out and she laughed and crushed her mouth against his. She swallowed his moans while her hips rocked at a wicked pace. She would slow way down, taking his entire length inside of her and clench her muscles around him, and then suddenly return to her frantic speed. McGee started to feel a hot tingling at the base of his spine. The pressure just built and built until he thought he would burst into flames.
"I'm close." He stuttered.
"Just let it go." She was trembling with pleasure. "Come with me!" Their twin cries of climax echoed in his ears. Shiloh collapsed against him, panting. McGee felt all the tension melt away.
"I think my finger nails are even relaxed." He gasped.
"Me too." He stroked his hand down her back.
"I might get writer's block more often." She giggled and kissed him softly.
"When I regain movement in my legs I'm going to take a shower and go to bed. I feel like I just ran a marathon."
"We could just sit here like this for a minute."
"Tim?"
"Yeah?" She propped herself up on her arm to look him in the eye.
"What did you do before me when you got writer's block?"
"Continue writing crap and putting it through the shredder." She grinned.
"This was way more fun."
"Oh yes." She kissed him again and got up.
"I'm taking that shower. Maybe your mind is clear enough to get you somewhere." He watched her walk away, comfortable without stopping to pull her clothes back on. He turned back to his typewriter and stared at it for a full ten seconds before he got up and dashed for the bathroom to join her.