Sherlock opened his eyes and let out a groan. He was lying in a bed that was clearly not his own.
Boredom had led him to give in to the temptation of a seven percent solution of cocaine. It was a vice that he was prone to indulge in when there were no cases of any note to distract him.
But then flashes of memory from the previous night's encounter came to mind.
Three slaps to his cheek.
Clothes hastily removed.
Naked skin.
Hot, wet, desperate kisses that slowed to a passionate, sensuous exploration as true identities were finally revealed…
'Oh and what a revelation that had been,' he thought as a satisfied smile spread across his face.
The smile disappeared and was replaced with a hungry moan when he felt slender fingers briefly wrap themselves around his manhood, causing it to harden instantly. Satisfied with her handiwork, his companion now draped herself languidly over him. Running her fingers through his untamed curls, Molly murmured throatily. "I much prefer this look to your public persona Holmes."
Reaching up Sherlock pulled her smiling lips down to his. "As I'm extremely partial to yours, Hooper."