Pocket Aces
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A/N: This is just a little "deleted scene" sort of thing. Could be canon. Contains lots of sex, a tiny bit of angst. Just re-uploaded with some editing for phrasing and such. Please review—this is my first smut piece!
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Unnecessary disclaimer: None of the characters appearing in the TV show "House, M. D." belong to me.
Abstract: Add-on to episode 217, All In. House has solved the case and is playing a celebratory game of poker with Wilson when something catches his eye. The red dress. H/C smut!
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"Are you going to call?" Wilson asked House in their makeshift poker game. The fundraiser had been over for some time now. The party was being packed up all around them.
House puffed on his giant cigar. "You know, relative to its size, the barnacle has the largest penis of any animal," House said with a totally straight face.
The two friends slowly erupted into laughter. As House laughed, a flash of red caught his eye from across the room.
House was surprised to see Cameron just now leaving; he thought she had left long ago. He appraised her appreciatively. Her hips swayed gracefully, the crinkling sounds of her skirt a siren song to his ears as she headed for the exit.
"Dr. Cameron," House called out, without thinking. Maybe it was the high of solving the case, maybe it was the alcohol, but whatever it was, it had repressed all rational thought. "My office," he stated.
Cameron turned and frowned. Had she done something wrong? She dejectedly headed back towards the elevators to ride upstairs.
House turned back to the game, but Wilson gave him a questioning look. "What was that for?" he asked.
House took a long puff on the cigar before handing it to a confused Wilson. "To get out of the game," he answered, and got up, following Cameron's trail to the elevator bay.
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Cameron was seated at his desk when he came in, half-illuminated by the moonlight and a dim desk lamp.
"What is it, House?" she asked in a soft voice when he entered. Her heart was racing; being alone with House often gave her that reaction, and the buzz from the celebratory drinks she'd had with Foreman and Chase didn't help.
She stood as he walked up to her and invaded her personal space. It was a game he often played with her.
"That dress," he said, gesturing towards it, his eyes following. "Is it an invitation?"
"An invitation for what?" Cameron asked, attempting to belie her pounding heart with a steady voice. She stared up at him with what she hoped was a challenging look.
House smirked a bit. "Your face says innocent, but that lipstick says whore," House stated, looking her dead in the eye. Cameron held his gaze.
Her face bloomed into a slow smile. "My face really isn't all that innocent, Dr. House."
With that shocking little statement, she turned and walked past him. House assumed she was headed for the door, and he sat down in his chair ready to finish the evening with scotch and solitude. But when he didn't hear the swing of the door, he looked up.
She wasn't leaving; she was only shutting the blinds.
She turned and moved back towards him, swaying her hips in a rhythm accentuated by the tall heels she wore. Her face displayed a devilish grin that appeared alien on her angelic features.
House stared at her suspiciously as she approached him. She leaned in close, her hair falling on his shoulder as she whispered in his ear. "You don't need an invitation."
Cameron wasn't sure what had gotten into her; it must be the alcohol. She had only once before been so brazen with her boss, and it had only caused her pain.
But this time was different—she wasn't asking for an outpouring of emotion. She was simply offering sex.
And Greg House was buying.
He pulled her down onto his lap slowly. She was careful to avoid harming his injured thigh. House stared her in the eye judgingly.
Cameron knew she couldn't falter under his gaze if she wanted this night to happen. She tried to hide the tell tale signs of her pounding heart. This was a dangerous game she was playing. She knew the odds weren't in her favor, but for once she chose to throw caution to the wind. Go big or go home.
She moved in slowly, her eyes never leaving his until their lips met passionately. Cameron's body filled with relief when she felt the intensity with which he kissed her back. Their lips moved together as if in time to some inaudible melody. Her tongue darted into his mouth, breaking the pattern.
When House pulled away, she wondered if she had done wrong. He stared at her with an indiscernible expression.
He finally spoke. "What are you wearing beneath that dress?" House asked in a husky voice.
A grin, and a slight blush, crept onto Cameron's features. "Very little," she answered honestly.
Their lips crashed together a second time with more urgency. House reached around and fumbled with the zipper of her dress. Knowing was not enough; he needed to see.
Unzipped, the dress crumpled around her waist, revealing her in nakedness from the waist up. House pulled away from the kiss to assess her unabashedly. "The lipstick never lies," he commented, the fire in his eyes now apparent.
Cameron grabbed him by his collar and kissed him again, beginning to unbutton his shirt as their lips meshed. House, distracted by the feel of her skin under his hands, hardly noticed.
Cameron grasped at his chest hair as House's kisses began to travel down her neck and onto her chest. House leaned her back onto the desk, her body arching to create a bridge between the desk and chair.
House nipped and lapped at her chest, forcing Cameron to attempt to stifle the moans that threatened to emit from her throat.
House's erection pressed against her, teasing her by its very presence. Her wetness soaked through her underwear, leaving a watery spot on House's pants. She wanted him. Cameron was determined to take control of the situation.
She pushed him away and stood. House stared after her, unsure of what she was planning.
Cameron slowly unzipped the dress the rest of the way, allowing it to pool around her feet. House's eyes traveled upward from the dress, following her slim legs to a miniscule red thong hiding the location of his desires.
His eyes finally broke free to view to her face, which was graced with a sensuous smile. "Like what you see?" she asked in a husky whisper from her curved red lips. Red lips, red dress, red thong… For Gregory House the color red would never be the same again.
Cameron stepped over the dress pooled at her feet, removing her high heels in the process. She approached him as if in slow motion.
She removed his shirt completely and then moved to unbutton his pants as well. House stilled her hand.
Cameron looked up at him challengingly. She spoke harshly. "I'm trying to give you a blow job, not look at your scar." She pushed his hand away and continued to remove his pants. He showed his acquiescence by assisting her enough to allow her to pull the pants to his ankles.
Now on her knees below him, she tugged at his boxers as well. As soon as she had freed his erection, she took him in her mouth. He hissed in surprise. His impassive façade was collapsing brick by brick.
She licked him lasciviously, eliciting hisses and moans from House who could no longer keep his poker face.
"Fuck, Cameron," House said, unable to stay silent when she began to massage his balls.
"Allison," she said urgently, releasing him from her mouth momentarily to speak. "Call me Allison."
The use of her first name cemented the surreal nature of the entire ordeal. This was not his quiet, unsure Cameron; this was a siren, a succubus who had taken her place. A dream perhaps. One from which he did not want to wake.
Despite Cameron's submissive position, she had full control at this point. She could have asked for the world and he would have promised it. House thanked several deities he didn't believe in that Cameron never knew the power she held over him.
When House was close to the breaking point, Cameron slowed. "Fucking hell," House swore. "Finish what you started, woman."
"I plan to," she answered breathlessly, standing suddenly.
House didn't wonder long what she was up to. She removed her soaked panties and lowered herself gently onto him, beginning to move up and down the shaft of his penis. "Allison," House moaned, barely able to control himself.
She moved harder and faster until they both reached orgasm, clinging to each other for dear life as they cried out, all pretenses of quietness forgotten. When they had come down from their high, Cameron thought it was her time to leave.
House had other plans for her. He swiped across his desk with one hand, scattering the contents onto the floor, and then lifted Cameron from him onto it. She lay limply across it, wondering what was in store for her.
House reached a hand inside of her suddenly, making Cameron gasp. He moved his fingers around inside her contracting walls, and his other hand stretched out to grasp at her clitoris. Cameron writhed in pleasure as House worked his magic, his mouth coming up to join his fingers.
"Do you play me," Cameron said, gasping, "like you play your piano?" she asked.
House grinned, his face moist with her wetness. "I am multitalented," he spoke, his hot breath blowing on the apex of her thighs, making her shiver.
House got back to work, his tongue moving in swooping motions inside her damp body, his fingers doing their job as well.
"Fuck, House," she swore. "I need you."
"How do you need me, Allison?" he challenged, nipping at her clitoris. She let out a cry.
"I need you inside me," she called to him urgently.
"Lucky for you, Little Gregory works quickly," House said in his gravelly voice, and he pulled himself up onto the desk to join her.
Instead of beginning gently as they had before, House thrust inside her quickly and violently, eliciting another cry from Cameron.
"Faster," Cameron begged as House continued to propel himself into her.
"I'm close, House, so close," she said breathlessly. At this, House gave one last big thrust, driving them both to orgasm. They rode out the high together a second time. Afterwards, House rolled off of her, lying beside her on the desk. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, attempting to get his heart rate under control.
His eyes were still shut when he felt the whoosh of cool air beside him, Cameron getting up. He kept his eyes closed as he heard movements around the room, the buzz of a zipper, and the click-clack of heels moving down the hallway.
He opened his eyes when the high had worn off and the pain in his thigh had returned a hundredfold. He sat up on the desk and looked around for his pants to retrieve the orange vial of pills from the pocket.
He paused momentarily when he saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.
He reached down and lifted the item from the chair that had been laid out like a present. A lacy red thong.
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In the morning when he had woken on his office couch, an ache permeating his entire body, House had wondered what he'd done, what she would do. But she surprised him. She never spoke to him or anyone of what had happened that night.
Certain times, when their eyes met across a room, it seemed as if a fire burned between them. During these moments they were sure their secret would be detected by all, but, somehow, a secret it remained.
And always would.
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