In hindsight, it probably wasn't fair of me to push so hard. But I can't really be sorry, because I got what I wanted. Fuck, did I get what I wanted. I'm still sore from getting what I wanted.

It started out innocently enough, I asked him to dinner and he declined. No big deal, right? Wrong. I never did like being told no, especially when I couldn't get him out of my mind after that. And to top it all off, I overheard him talking to a suspect about how young and beautiful I was, and how he wasn't brave enough to risk his career to be with me. Knowing he wanted me and wouldn't take me was too much. So I started playing dirty.

I wrote him a sassy little 'I want you' note and put it in his locker. He ignored it.

I sent him inappropriate text messages at various times during shifts. I saw him blush as he snapped his phone shut. He stopped reading them.

I left my underwear in his desk drawer. He knew I was working the rest of that shift without them.

I started touching myself in his office. He kicked me out. He didn't stand up from behind his desk to do it. I didn't have to wonder why not.

I slipped naked pictures of myself into his back pocket. I don't know what he did with those, but the next time I slipped my hand in his pocket they were gone.

I whispered in his ear at a crime scene that I'd fucked a stranger the night before and imagined it was him. He actually pushed me away, and I fell down, lucky we were both squatting over a body at the time, because it wasn't a bad fall.

I was about to give up. I was running out of ways to tempt him. I e-mailed him a video of myself in the shower, moaning his name. If that didn't work, I would go crazy, but I would stop trying, because the rejection was starting to get to me. The only reason I'd tried for so long was because I knew he wanted me. If I could just get him past his stupid inhibitions... but it didn't look like that was going to happen.

The next day I stepped into his office, this time to actually discuss a case, but he wasn't there. As I turned around to leave, he appeared in the doorway with a file in his hands, and he stopped to stare at me. "Sara," he said, and there was something different in the way he said my name.

"Gil," I said back, my voice somewhere between cautious and breathless. I couldn't get out of the room unless he moved, and he couldn't get into the room unless I did.

The next thing I knew, Gil had shoved me backwards and slammed the door, forcing me all the way across the room and hard into the opposite wall, his erection straining against his pants, pressing between my thighs, making me groan.

I wanted it inside me so badly I almost couldn't stand it, and I reached down to undo his zipper but he grabbed both my hands and growled, pinning them above my head with an almost bone-breaking intensity. Holy fuck. Be careful what you wish for, Sidle. "Gil," I begged, struggling against his hold, desperately wanting to feel him, but he kept me still for as long as he wanted, turning the tables brilliantly. Now I know how he felt these last few weeks - helpless and horny as hell.

Thank God, he let go of my wrists and undid his pants, then yanked mine down around my ankles, followed by my underwear. Before I could register the cool air on my pussy, he was in me. Deep. Hard. Fast. And it was even better than I had drooled over in my fantasies. I kicked my pants and panties off the rest of the way, which was difficult over my shoes but I managed through sheer will, and wrapped my legs around him, urging him deeper. He filled me completely, and I don't even want to know the sounds that must have been filtering out into the rest of the lab. Most of them coming from me.

Suddenly his hands were in my hair, fisting, pulling, forcing my head back as I rocked into him over and over, my nails raking down his back through his shirt. His soft grunts alerted me that he was close, and damn was I close too.

I think I screamed when he abandoned my hair and pinched my clit, and I came before he did, squeezing his climax out of him with my muscles clenched around his dick and my heels digging into his thighs, sweat dripping into my hair and down my neck as he came inside me.

I was a mess. Appearance-wise, that is. I had never been so satisfied in my life on every other level. He pulled out and zipped up, giving me a lingering glance before picking up his file and leaving the office, not bothering to close the door.

I put my pants back on, kicking my panties under his desk, and didn't even try to make myself presentable before heading to my locker, because no amount of primping would smooth my hair, dry the sweat, cover up the smell of sex, or wipe the shit-eating grin off my face. I got looks, but I didn't care. They knew, but I didn't care. I got what I wanted.