Meredith Grey knew from the time she was fifeteen years old, and lost her virginty to a hot intern named Steve, that she was a dirty girl. Maybe she came by it naturally. After all, her mother had enjoyed playing "doctor" with men who were not Thatcher Grey, or Richard Webber. Whatever the case may be, she was dirty. While this knowledge might bother another woman, Meredith embraced it. Why deny who she was? Why deny herself?

The man sitting at the end of the bar was exactly the sort of man who enjoyed the games she played. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and a smile that broke hearts. He wouldn't break her's. She had learned a long time ago to keep her heart out of the game. Emotions only got in the way of physical pleasure.

Sliding onto the bar stool next to his, she plotted out the best way to engage him. Men like him liked to think they were in control. Good ole hard to get. That was the way he needed to play. The red shirt wasn't new, and while some might think him a Seattle native, she had heard him ask the bartender for a drink. She knew that accent. East Coast, probley New York. Even better. An out of towner.

"Shot of tequila," she calls to the bartender. Joe, his name tag read.

"Aren't you a brave one. Shooting tequila. Alone. In a bar." The man liked to tease. Perfect. She was an expert tease.

"Straight up?" the bartender asked, the bottle poised over a shot glass.

Meredith smiles. "Of course." Straight up and hard. Just the way she liked her liquor; just the way she liked her men.

"You're going to get drunk, you realize that, don't you?" The man had shifted closer. She could smell his expensive cologne. The sense of smell was a beautiful thing. Take the way this man smelled, for instance. Something about the mixture of his cologne, aftershave, and person was making her hot. Achey and wet even.

"That's the plan." She gingerly picks the shot glass up. Counting to three, she tilts her head back and lets the firey liquid slide down her throat. The ache grew worse. As did the dampness of her barely there black lace thong. "Pour me another one, Joe. Leave the bottle this time."

"So. You want to get drunk. Someone is going to take advantage of you, you know that, right?" He leaned a bit closer. She could feel his hot breath on her neck. God, he was making her horny. He had best not be the sort of man who liked to tease, then leave. She wasn't in the mood to go home and take matters in her own hands. Even a high dollar vibrator couldn't replace a nice, hard dick.

"Someone being you?" She lets another shot of tequila run down her throat. The fire in her belly grew hotter with each shot.

"Me? No. I'm just some guy in a bar. New to Seattle, really. Moved here from New York. You?" She had been right. A person's manner of speech gave it away every time.

"I'm just a girl in a bar," she replies back. She wasn't big on personal information. It was better when there were no strings attached.

"Ah. I see." He was getting closer now. She could feel the heat from his body. "So, Just A Girl In A Bar, what would you say, if admitted to wanting to take advantage?"

"Hm. I would say that I figured that out five minutes ago," She licks a bit of tequila from her lips. "The thing is, you can't take advantage."

His face fell. "Oh. Isee. I'm sorry." He grabs his jacket from the stool on his other side. A buttery soft brown leather one. "Thank you for the company. Joe, if you would put the lady's drink on my tab..."

Meredith laughs, sliding off the stool. "You can't take advantage of someone who is willing," she breaths in his ear. Her body was pressed against the side of his. She rubs against him a bit, before walking out of the bar. He would follow. The men always did. There wasn't a man alive who didn't like to play her game.

Derek Shepherd wasn't known for picking women up in bars. That was more his best friend Mark's forte. Mark. Now there was a mood killer. He pushes his former best friend from his thoughts. Mark was in New York, he was in Seattle, with a sexy woman who was hot and more than ready. She was practically begging him for it. If he was to slip his fingers into her panties, he knew what he would find. Sticky wetness. Just thinking about it made him harder.

He wasn't sure how they got to the house, just that the moment they walked in the door her hands were down his pants. Her tiny fingers wrapped around the velvety smoothness of his penis, her mouth met his in a hard, passion filled kiss. He gave into the urge, he slipped his fingers in, finding exactly what he had wanted to find. She moaned as he inserted one finger, then two. " You like that, baby?" He nips her neck.

"Mmhhhm," she purrs, unzipping his pants. She grabs his hand. Reluctantly, he removes his fingers from the warm, wetness of her body. "You have something, right?" She unbuttons his shirt. There would be no games. She knew what she wanted. Good. He wanted the same thing. To bury himself in her body. To forget the rest of the world, specifically New York.

"Wallet," He growls, tugging her black dress down. The sound of fabric ripping fills the air. If she was angry about the dress, she didn't say so. In fact, his aggressiveness seemed to excite her further.

"Hm. Typical," she murmurs, fumbling with his wallet. She doesn't dig through it, not the way some women would. Instead, she finds what she is looking for. She tears it open, then pulls his pants down. Rolling the condom onto the length of him, she grins. She backs away a bit, eyeing his manhood. "Impressive."

"You think?" Grabbing her by the waist, he backs her against a nearby wall. Lifting her petite body in his arms, he pushes the panties aside with one finger. He enters her in one smooth thrust. She lets out a triumphant moan. Her legs tighten around his waist, drawing him in deeper. He thrusts harder. Her nails dig into his back.

Meredith could feel it coming. That tightening of her insides, the pressure building. When the orgasm hit her, it hit hard. She could feel the man coming with her. Their shouts of release echoed in her mother's empty house. 'Place needed a good christening,' she thought smugly. Her legs drop to the floor. "I was right. Impressive," she slides to the floor, laughing. God, the man knew how to fuck. Too bad it was just for tonight. She could get use to being fucked like that every night.

"I aim to please," he replies, joining her on the floor. She hands him a tissue to remove the condom with.

"Really? You aim to please?" She could believe that. He had let her finish first. Not many men were that considerate.

"Yes. My mother alway said to never disappoint a lady," he tosses the tissue and used condom into a nearby fastfood bag that was full of trash. "Healthy eater, I see."

"What can I say, I have a healthy appetite," she murmered, stroking her fingers over his semi-hard penis. It wasn't long before he was ready to go again. She starts to straddle him, he stops her."What? Going back on your Aim to please motto?"
"Hm. No. We're missing...Ah. Yes. That," he smiles when she waves a small silver package in front of him. He takes it from her, quickly gloving himself.

"I'm a safety kind of gal," she whisphers in his ear. She positions herself over him, slowly encasing him in her warmth. He groans his pleasure. A smug grin forms across her mouth. She sets the pace slow, rising up, then lowering just a bit, never giving him the full satisfaction of actual penetration.

"You're not playing fair," he grits his teeth, grabbing her hips. He thrusts deep and hard, then pulls out.

"Hey," she cries as he flips her onto her back. He grabs her wrists, pinning them over her head. She pants, waiting with anticipation. He seemed intent on teasing her the way she had him. Letting the tip enter, nothing more. She lifts her hips, trying to take more of him in. "Please," she begs.

Derek could barely hold back. That whimpery please was his undoing. He slams into her, repeatedly. She cries out. Partially in pain, partially in pleasure. The anger over New York comes back, bringing with it a forceful side he had thought gone. He releases her hands, grabbing her hips. He raises her up a bit, the angle giving him better access. She grinds against him.

"Oh God," she cries. He could feel her coming. He thrusts harder, faster. She started out whimpering, then almost screamed her release. He buries his face in her neck, holding on tight. To hold onto to her forever. It was a nice thought. One he had no business thinking. He thought it anyways. Laying there, his body still joined with her's, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to never let go.

Meredith couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. It had been hard, leaving this morning. He had said his name was Derek. This was during their ackward morning after chat. Sighing, she brushes her hair back off her face. First days were hard enough without mooning over a one night stand. Besides, if the Nazi seen her looking weak it would all be over. And she had to find one Dr. Shepherd, neurosurgeon extraodanaire. Hopefully he could do something for Katie's nasty attitude while he fixed her seizure problem. She stops in her tracks as a familiar dark head lifted. Oh God. Derek. Her Derek was here. Wearing a name badge and a lab coat. Mother fucker. She stares in horror as he came closer. The moment his name tag became clear, she realized he was Dr. Shepherd, neurosurgeon extraodanaire. The game she had thought over, was just in fact begining...

The End...
Feel free to comment.