Disclaimer: If I had anything to do with Desperate Housewives, Lynette would get to kill Renee, hide the body and never be caught.

Story Summary: Lynette tells Tom that she kissed Carlos. A missing scene in the season two episode "One More Kiss."

A/n: I was going to do a Tom/Lynette post-ep for "Pleasant Little Kingdom," but as I was considering the part where Lynette tells Tom that no one thinks she's a good wife, that scene where she and Carlos kiss in season two's "One More Kiss" popped into my head. Then it wouldn't get out. This is the result.

Be warned, that M-rating is there for a reason.

And also, as a shameless plug, I am still taking requests for December, so if you have something in mind, please just let me know.

Enjoy!

Kissing Carlos

A story by Ryeloza

"I kissed Carlos."

Lynette said this matter-of-factly. Like I went to the grocery store or I made the kids spaghetti. Maybe that was why the words took a minute to register and he found himself babbling, "Oh that's nice," before doing a double take and goggling at her like a wide-eyed toad. "What?"

"Carlos Solis. I kissed him."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"When?"

"Just now." Lynette turned from him, her voice still casual, but a tension evident through the way she tightened her shoulders. As if she could hide the truth from him. As if he couldn't read her body language from head to toe by now. She was proud of this. "Gaby still wouldn't admit she wasn't right, and he was standing right there. You could almost consider it an experiment. And I was right. She was jealous."

Tom grasped her elbow and spun her around. She looked up at him defiantly as if to say, Yeah, I'm guilty, but it doesn't matter because I was right. And then, to add insult to injury, she audibly concluded, "Anyway, this makes us even."

"I don't think I'd say we're exactly even. Gaby kissed me!"

Lynette shrugged. "Well you could try kissing Carlos if you want, but there's probably a good chance you'll end up with a black eye."

"Oh ha ha. Very clever. You don't go around just kissing random guys, Lynette!"

"Random? It's not like I stopped some guy on the street."

"You're not making this sound any better. You know what this means, don't you? He's going to have…thoughts about you."

"Ooh," teased Lynette. She was openly laughing at him now. If anything, his arguments only seemed to be further entrenching her misguided thought that she had the high ground here. "What kind of thoughts?"

"You know…Dirty ones."

"It was just a kiss."

"That's all it takes. He's a guy!"

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really!"

"So have you been having thoughts about Gaby?"

"No! I—It—She—"

Lynette raised an eyebrow, amused by his stuttering. "Right." She smirked; it was completely exasperating. He wanted to know exactly how he had wound up on the losing end of this spat when she had been the one who had come home and announced she'd kissed their neighbor.

"I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Exactly. And neither did I."

"Right."

"Right."

They stood staring at one another, Lynette still gloating and Tom fighting the urge to march across the street and sock Carlos. The hypocrisy of such an act never entered his mind, primarily because there was a world of difference between what had happened with him and Gaby and this kiss between Carlos and Lynette. Mainly because it involved Lynette. Unfortunately, she seemed either unaware that he was repressing a basic violent tendency or she took a perverse pleasure in exploiting it. Whichever it was prompted her to say, "You know, maybe you should grow a goatee."

Something inside Tom's brain snapped. Like the synapse that kept him a calm, rational adult who knew that his wife loved him just disconnected from the irrational, jealous lunatic that lay buried deep inside of him. Without thinking, he reached out and grasped Lynette's hips, roughly pulling her toward him and kissing her. Judging by her reaction, it was exactly what she wanted, but it was too late for her to convince him this was all a joke. He reached between their chests to grasp her hands from where they ran over his pecs, and pulled them behind her back, holding them there and effectively trapping her in place. She gave a tiny, delighted squeal, and he only kissed her harder.

"You trying to prove something?" she taunted as he moved his lips to her neck. The fact that her voice had become breathy lessened her nonchalant attitude. He was getting to her. "You trying to drive him right out of my head?"

"How did he kiss you?" Tom nipped her neck and then stood up straight. The fact that he still hadn't released her hands kept her from going up on tiptoe to match him, and he took a strange pleasure in being able to tower over her. Sometimes he forgot how tiny she really was. "Huh? Or are you suddenly going to stay quiet?"

"Tom…" She strained against his grip for a moment, wetting her lips and trying to coerce him to kiss her again. When he didn't comply she let out a huffy sigh. "This is ridiculous."

"Did he stick his tongue in your mouth?"

"It was just a kiss."

Tom stared at her expectantly, egging her on by pressing the lower half of her body into his. She groaned, shaking her head in a frustrated manner, and finally said, "Hardly."

"Hardly." Tom ducked his head again, kissing her softly this time, just letting his tongue run over her bottom lip before pulling back. "Like that?"

"It didn't—I don't remember."

"And where did he touch you? Were his hands on you? In your hair? Around your back?"

"He had me pinned against the counter."

Without warning, Tom backed her up until she was pinned between him and the counter, and something wicked flashed in her eyes. She was enjoying this as much as he was. Casually, he shifted his grip so he had both of her wrists trapped in just one hand, and brought the other around to run down her body. He squeezed her breast with the fumbling eagerness of a man on the verge of losing control, grazed over her stomach and then slowly pressed his hand down her pants. He rubbed his hand over her, his breath shortening at the sound of her moans, and slipped one finger inside of her. "Did kissing him get you wet like this?"

Her eyes fluttered shut for a second and she shook her head. "God, no."

"And he didn't touch you this way."

"Of course not."

"Of course not." He dipped his head to kiss her neck again, going right for that sensitive patch of skin that always left her quivering. At the same time, he pressed his palm more firmly against her, and she purposely began to move herself against him to increase the friction. "I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this."

"Yes!" She half-moaned the word, desperately fidgeting now, doing anything to find that release she needed. He loved her like this; frantic and unhinged and so eager. "Oh, God, Tom, please!"

Devilishly, he stopped moving his hand, twitching at the little half-crying moans she made in an effort to plead with him. They were hard to ignore; he wanted exactly what she wanted, and they were both on the verge of losing control. He kissed her, and then pulled back, waiting until she finally opened her eyes to speak. "Say it."

Annoyance and lust flashed equally in her eyes, and Tom grinned at her evilly. When she'd come in here all nonchalance and teasing, she'd never intended for him to get the upper hand. And now he unequivocally had it. If she didn't comply, he would very willingly leave her unfulfilled. "Say it," he repeated, pressing his hand against her for just a second to remind her who had the advantage.

"Mmm, oh God, fine! You're the only one who gets to touch me like this. You're the only one I want to touch me like this."

The words seemed to reverberate through him right to his cock, and in a sudden, desperate hurry, he pulled both of his hands away from her to undo his pants. Finally free, Lynette did the same, her panties barely winding up at her knees before he grasped her and pressed himself up into her. Lynette gasped, Tom groaned, and then they began to move in sync, fucking one another as though they'd been pent up for weeks. It didn't last long—it didn't need to; they were both on the edge before they'd even taken their clothes off.

"Holy shit," Tom breathed into her hair. Lynette had gone slack, holding on to him as her only means of remaining upright, and pressing languid, satisfied kisses against his neck and shoulder. He was still inside of her, hands gripping the counter, his heart beating like a jackhammer. "Jesus."

Lynette half-laughed, half-whimpered against him, and tipped her head back so he could lean down and kiss her again. Her lips moved against his slowly, making the most out of one long, lingering moment. "Only one," he murmured into her mouth.

"Mm-hmm. Never kissing anyone else again."

"Me either."

All he needed was to keep kissing her.