A/N #1: Welcome to my first attempt at *ahem* smut *cough.* This will be a 5-chapter fic. If you feel so moved, press the little Review button at the bottom. If not, so be it! Enjoy…

A/N #2: I do not own these characters. Sadly, all I own are the mistakes.

Chapter 1: "And If You Win?"

I knew I never should have made the bet with my girlfriend of six months in the first place. I also knew I would have to endure whatever she had planned for me, seeing as that I lost the bet. As I walked up to her front door, I attempted to mentally prepare myself for whatever would be happening tonight.

Whether or not I like to admit it, Rachel's right most of the time, especially when it comes to movies and musicals. What, on Earth, was I thinking? I pressed the doorbell and my inner voice mocked me by sing-songing, "Stu-pid, stu-pid…" to rhythm of the chimes.

It was last Saturday night after the Regional's competition senior year; she and I were watching Jennifer's Body. As the movie began, she had a stern concentration etched into her brow and continued watching with a determination in her gaze, like she was trying to solve a puzzle. About a third of the way through the movie, she cried out, "AAAGGHH, I know where I've seen her!"

I looked from her to the screen and then back to her again. "What are you talking about, Rach?"

"Quinn, don't you recognize her? She's the daughter from Mamma Mia!" She jumped up off the bed and danced around pumping her fists in the air. She turned to me once more, grinning smugly. "I knew I recognized her, and lo and behold she's the very talented singer that played opposite of Meryl Streep in the 2008 big screen adaptation of the fabulous musical set to the classical stylings of the timeless group, ABBA. That means, "papa," by the way."

At that point, I could only look on, wondering if she formulated that answer using skillful craftsmanship with an attention to detail, or if her mind just naturally rants in over-informative statements of useless information. Either way, I was pretty sure that "Needy" wasn't the girl who sang "Honey, Honey" in that movie. I just couldn't picture it.

"Rachel, I don't think that's the same girl. I think this is the girl from Havoc. You know, the one with Anne Hathaway? I have a hard time believing that the actress from Mamma Mia! would play this part."

She stopped and trained her eyes on me. I should have backed down then. I knew what that look meant. She slowly advanced on me, and as she invaded my personal space, I knew I was a goner. She placed her hands gingerly on my shoulders, leaned down painfully slowly, and ghosted her lips over my ear as she whispered, "Wanna bet?"

I licked my lips and, Grilled Cheesus, help me, if those two words weren't the sexiest damn words in the English language. She pulled back, keeping her face even with mine. Looking at my lips, she asked me again, "Quinnie, I said, 'Do you wanna bet?'"

This woman was sure to be the death of me. I felt fairly confident in the observation I made. I could swear that wasn't the same girl. So, in my blind ignorance, I ground out, "Terms?"

She smiled wickedly and began outlining the conditions of our wager.

"Well, if you win, I will promise to refrain from interrupting the next three movies of your choosing, only speaking when told to do so. I know how much you hate when I go on and on during a movie." The irony is that our current movie was still playing, completely forgotten about as our exchange played out. "Plus…" she continued, to my surprise, "I'll let you have a turn with the toy box."

When she said "toy box," my breathing instantly quickened and my eyes widened, immediately filling with shock and want. Images flooded my brain, while a certain wet heat flooded my core. What most people didn't know was that Rachel was a bit of kink and a lot of a top. She mostly dominated our bedroom activities, not that I was complaining… at all. It was just unusual that she would offer that control. I should've folded right then. She wouldn't have wagered that without being 100% sure she was right.

Unable to shake the visions swirling in my mind and the wetness swirling at my center, I urged her to continue, "And if you win?" I asked with a shaky voice.

She briefly paused, as I could clearly see the gears working in her gray matter. And like a wild beast cornering its prey, she ran her tongue across her lips as an evil smirk appeared on her face. She let out a condescending chuckle, and finished explaining the terms.

"If I win, Quinnie, our next three movie nights will be spent watching Funny Girl. Each night of which will include you performing a personal interpretation of one of three very special musical selections from the soundtrack. What do you say?"

I weighed the terms. I didn't like the inflections she made on the words, "personal" and "very special." Really, though, how bad could it be watching Funny Girl three more times and singing a few songs? Any risk was worth taking for a chance to get my hands "dirty" so-to-speak in the toy box.

"Deal." And there it was, my fate for the next three weeks sealed in a four-letter word.

Five minutes later, I cursed the Internet database that made it so easy to search for movies and actors. Damn the convenience of technology. Of course Rachel was still gloating about her victory as she flitted around the room, happy she had won once again. I was Quinn fucking Fabray. Didn't that mean I would win at least some of the time?

As the movie credits rolled in the background, I sighed with disappointment at not seeing the rest of the film and losing the bet. Nevertheless, I pulled myself from Rachel's bed and grabbed my girlfriend's hand to say goodbye properly.

"I know, I know, Rach, you won. I get it. I will keep up my end of the deal, but it's near midnight and you know my mom will literally send out the search and rescue team if I'm late. Some shit about the 'witching hour.'" I chuckled, and continued, "I'll call you tomorrow." I kissed her gently, hoping that my tenderness would show her my willingness to concede in our wager and earn me a bit of mercy.

"Mmm… kissing me like that, Ms. Fabray will not earn an ounce of pity from me, just so you know." Damn, that woman knew me better than I thought. "But kiss me again anyways."

She smiled sexily and with her "I'm-playing-innocent-but-I-want-you-to-do-naughty-things-to-me" look in her doe eyes (hey, it's a big description, but Rach always says I need to be more expressive…), she stretches on her tiptoes once more and connects our lips. I couldn't stop the low moan that rolled over my tongue and through her lips. The taste of her was like my ambrosia and kryptonite all at once. She had the most sensual technique and for the love of everything holy, the things she could do with that tongue.

I held her close to me as our lips were pressing together deliciously and her tongue caressed mine into submission. I enjoyed the friction of her chest and stomach rubbing against mine as she pumped subtly up and down on her tiptoes, no doubt to add to the pleasure for both us. I threaded my fingers into her hair after trailing them up the base of her neck, and a wave of vertigo shot through me at her breath hitching when I gripped those soft locks and tilted her head for better access. Rachel liked her hair being pulled; she liked it very much.

She husked in my ear as I rained down an assault of licks, nips, and hot open-mouthed kisses on her glorious neck, "Baby, if you keep doing that, you're mother is going to be right to send a search and rescue team because I will do terrible things to you."

A shiver shot through me as my imagination ran crazy like a meth-head on COPS. I knew she meant all of what she said—my mother would, literally, drive over to Rachel's house and pound on the door until she knew her daughter was safe; but the other truth was, Rachel would do awful and amazing things to me. She worked my body over with a dominance and pleasure that should be unlawful. Regretfully so, I calmed my hungry raid, and slowed my lips to gentle kisses as I made my way to her pulse point. With one more, open-mouth lave at her neck, I looked to her again. Her pupils were completely blown and she panted lightly, reigning in her clear want.

"As much as I would love to have you torment me, my mother will find me." I smiled at her and she returned it instantly. I squeezed her once more both to have her feel how much I adored her, but also for my own selfish want for once last feel of her body (I planned to use that memory later tonight… don't judge me. You've seen how hot she is…).

"I love you, Rach. I'll call you tomorrow."

She rested her head against my shoulder and kissed the skin there, exposed by my tank top. "Mm… okay…Bye, Babe, I love you, too." Once more she looked to where I was and kissed me sweetly before walking me to the door.

I walked toward my car adding a little swagger to my step because I knew Rachel was watching my ass as I went. As I reached for the handle, I decided that I deserved a little payback for missing the movie. I dropped my keys and bent slowly at the waist to pick them up. Looking over my shoulder, I was rewarded by the pure lust that my girlfriend's stare held.

When she saw the smirk on my face, she called out despite the fact that it was just barely after midnight, "I see what you did there, Fabray, and I will hold that against you!"

My smirk burst into a full-fledged smile and I got in my car to drive home. I was stopped at a traffic light, when the screen on my phone lit up the car, one new text from "Rach." I opened the message and I knew I was in trouble.

Next Saturday: Funny Girl, you, me, and an empty house. You're staying over. Also…Your ass is mine. XOXO

"Shit," I thought aloud. What have I done?

A/N #3: Next chapter, Funny Girl: Night One…