Disclaimer: Mass Effect doesn't belong to me, nor do I intend to profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: It gets pretty steamy at the end. Just so you know.
"You know, Shepard, I originally planned to just take you with me to Bekenstein, but after further consideration, I think Kaidan should come, too." Kasumi mused, studying the handsome merc as he sat at the mess table.
Shepard glanced over at the table, and frowned, she hadn't spoken much to Kaidan since the incident in the shuttle bay, but she didn't particularly care for the thief's interest in him. "If that's your plan, we'll make do." She didn't want to take him, but it wasn't her op. She had to admit he was very handy during combat situations. She sighed, and called over to him, "Alenko, suit up, your coming along for the ride." She sighed as Kasumi sashayed over to him to explain his role and give him his outfit for the trip.
Kaidan was battling a painful erection; Shepard was wearing a black dress that looked like she'd been painted into it. She was smoking, and it was driving him crazy. She'd been driving him crazy ever since the night a few days ago in the shuttle bay. The sound of her husky voice was enough to bring him to attention, all of him. She was all he could think about. His ears perked up as Kasumi told Shepard he would be posing as her husband.
"Kasumi, that's a terrible idea," she protested, glancing back at the backseat. She sucked in a deep breath at the sight of Kaidan in formal attire.
"I think it's ingenious, " he drawled, his grin wolfish, brown eyes sparkling.
"You would," she grumbled, settling back into her seat. She was puzzling out what he had up his sleeve; no normal man would be so amiable after being left high and dry like she'd done to him the other night. She tried to ignore the effect he was having on her as their car landed, and, like a perfect gentleman, he helped her to exit. She resisted the urge to retain his hand, and felt a flush creeping up her neck at the thought of what that hand was capable of.
She felt heat pooling between her thighs when he pressed a warm hand to the small of her back, his fingers splayed possessively across her spine, as they headed up the stairs. She knew Kasumi was lurking nearby, and her skin was on fire as his hand drifted down the curve of her rear.
"Stop it," she hissed out of the side of her mouth, smiling for the benefit of the other guests.
He just chuckled at her and reluctantly pulled his hand away, offering his arm instead. Her long fingers wrapped around his forearm, and he felt the now familiar tightening in his loins as her hip brushed against his.
He steered her to a secluded corner, snagging two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. She frowned at him, but took the proffered glass. "It adds to the illusion, no need to actually drink it," he murmured into her ear.
"Does getting me alone add to the illusion?" she asked as he ran his hand down her bare arm, leaning into her.
"We're supposed to be newlyweds, right, Ms. Gunn?" his lips whispered against her ear, his arm snaking around her waist to pull her flush against him.
Her fingers smoothed over his firm chest, applying gentle pressure to push him away. Her fingers shifted to grip his lapels, however, when his lips pressed hotly against hers, his tongue plying her lips to gain entry to her hot cavity. She ruthlessly stifled a moan, her hips shifting forward of their own volition to grind against his.
"As nice as it is that you two get along, we really need to focus," Kasumi interrupted over their earpieces.
Kaidan grinned, and brushed his lips over hers once more. "Hard to focus around you," he chuckled, giving her bottom a firm pat.
She hissed at him, and sauntered away to talk to Hock. Kaidan just watched the cocky swing of her hips.
He clenched his teeth and followed her, a predatory smile on his lips. He pulled her away, " Now let's go have some fun," he whispered, and they snuck around the corner to drop onto Hock's balcony.
Later, back on the Normandy, he cornered her in the armory as they were putting their gear away. "Mmmm…cher, you looked good in that dress."
She turned slowly to face him, his arms braced on the weapon bench behind her, "Can I help you?" she asked warily, "And why do you keep calling me that?"
He inhaled her scent, an intoxicating blend of gun oil, smoke, and the soap Cerberus stocked in the shower dispensers. He dipped his lips down to skim against her hair, which was still mussed from her helmet. "My mama was French, the language stuck. You don't like when I call you cher?" he purred into her ear, still holding his body a few inches away from his own.
She frowned at him, she was enjoying the feel of his arms boxing her in entirely too much. She glanced around, but Jacob had left the armory to take care of his other duties. "Why do you have this affect on me?" she murmured uneasily. She had never fraternized with someone under her command. The Normandy may not be a military vessel, but she ran it as one, to the chagrin of the Cerberus crew. Acting on her attraction to the merc would be a mistake.
"The feeling is mutual, Shepard. I don't make a habit of sleeping with my boss. Complicates things. But I'll be damned if I don't want to strip you bare and have my way with you," he brought his hands to brush against her sides, up to cup her breasts.
"But why me? Why you, for that matter," she squirmed under his touch, her hips brushing against his.
"Aucune idée," he replied, the French rolling smoothly off his tongue, sending a shiver down her spine as his lips brushed against hers in the sweetest kiss they'd shared to date. "Il y a juste quelque chose…" her breath was hot against his lips as she waited on her translator, 'There is just something', her deep blue eyes unfathomable as she searched his face. His breath caught as she leaned into him, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. Her tongue swept across his bottom lip, and with a moan, he wrapped his strong arms around her back, pulling her in close.
Her arms looped around his neck pressing his mouth closer, their tongue gently stroking the other. She distantly heard her own gasping breaths between kisses, and his soft groans rumbling deep in his chest.
"I want you, Shepard," he murmured against her skin, "And not just for a night, either." He boosted her up to sit on the weapon console, and stepped between her knees. He was startled by the ferocious need she stirred in him, the fierce desire to claim and protect her for his own.
His heart constricted at the cool and inscrutable expression on her face, the one she wore before telling someone to go to hell, and wondered why he even cared.
She watched him as he watched her, her heart thumping erratically in her chest. Her knees tightened around his hips, and she sucked in a deep breath, pondering the tumult of emotions she was feeling.
There was attraction and arousal, obviously, and something else, something predatory and demanding, telling her to haul him up to her cabin and screw him senseless. There was also a need; a deep and primitive need to hold him close and never let go. She was also fighting the urge to run, fast and far.
"What is going on inside that head of yours," he murmured against her lips, his eyes half closed, desperately wanting to kiss her again. He tugged at her shirt, pulling the hem from her pants. She sighed against his lips as his hand snuck under her shirt to caress her skin, brushing his thumb across her puckered nipple.
His free hand drifted to the clasp of her belt, deftly releasing it, and he flicked her pants open with a smooth motion of his wrist. He slid his hand down her pants, capturing her lips at the same time, swallowing her soft moan of appreciation as his fingers circled her sensitive nub, sliding over her slick folds. His fingers stroked her, sliding into her wet heat, making her gasp against his lips.
She grasped at his shoulders, her hips undulating against the weapon console as he slid a finger into her, stroking her deeply, his mouth moving against her throat, hot and wet, his tongue rasping roughly against her skin. She ground her hips against his hand, desperate for release.
He waited until she was close, panting with need, and in a smooth motion, he secured her wrist to the weapon console, and yanked her pants down around her ankles. Kaidan stepped away from her, admiring the sight, "Payback is a bitch, Shepard," he smirked, turning on his heel to walk out the room. He heard her swear, and neatly stepped out the way of the thermal clip she hurled at him.
He glanced back at her with a smug smile, and admired the sight. She was straining against the restraints, her hair wildly mussed from his hands, her chest heaving with rage and desire, her eyes feral as she glared at him. "Now we're 1 – 1, cher."