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HERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER.
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CHAPTER 21: Please read and comment.
FRIDAY NIGHT. CUDDY'S HOME.
Cuddy was on her couch in her living room, curled up in an afghan, reading the copy of Outlander that House had bought her for Christmas.
Part of her didn't want to even read it anymore, because it was the most romantic book she had ever read and that just made it harder to deal with her recent break- up with House.
But it was a great book, and she was too obsessive not to finish a book.
She looked around her empty apartment and saw little reminders of House everywhere: The Victoria's Secret catalog he had been eagerly perusing through the last time he was here was resting on her coffee table; there was an empty can of some energy drink that House had resting on the end table next to her couch that he refused to throw away and that she refused to clean up after him…
Even the blanket that she was curled up in had covered the both of them the last time he had been there.
On a whim, Cuddy nuzzled her nose in the blanket, taking in the remnants of his scent.
'STOP IT,' she told herself, shaking her head firmly as the tears began to form in her eyes.
Just then, there was a knock at her front door.
She hastily wiped the corners of her eyes with her fingertips, took the blanket off her and got off the couch.
When she got to the door, she looked through the peep- hole and saw House standing on the other side.
Upon seeing him through the peep- hole her heart skipped a beat in her chest.
But she quickly suppressed the hope that was rising inside her, took a deep breath to compose herself, and answered the door, plastering a stoic look on her face.
"What are you doing here?" Cuddy asked calmly.
As House stood in the doorway, leaning slightly on his cane, wearing a pair of dark jeans, his sky- blue button down shirt, a white- t- shirt underneath and his leather biker jacket, he looked Cuddy up and down.
She was wearing a pair of black yoga pants, a royal blue tightly- fitted v- neck t- shirt that showed off her luscious curves, and her hair was loose about her shoulders.
But her eyes were red, puffy and tired.
"I'm sorry you've been crying over me," House said.
At first, Cuddy merely stared at him, slightly thrown by his left- handed apology.
Then a curt laugh of disgust escaped Cuddy's lips at his remark.
"Don't flatter yourself," Cuddy scoffed as she turned away from him, leaving him in the open doorway.
House walked into the foyer, closing the door behind him.
"What else explains the bags under your eyes that you've been trying to cover up for the last three days?" House demanded.
"If you're trying to apologize to me, I suggest you use a different approach," Cuddy told him, heading for the kitchen.
House sighed loudly and watched her walk into her kitchen from behind in exasperation.
He had never been good in situations like this, and he was hoping that Cuddy would understand that he had good intentions upon coming over.
But he always hated having to explain himself.
He followed her into her kitchen, where Cuddy took a stone- colored ceramic mug out of her cupboard and placed it on the kitchen counter.
She didn't acknowledge his presence in any way when he walked into the kitchen.
He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, watching her as she went over to another cupboard to retrieve a box of chamomile tea bags and a packet of artificial sweetner.
"Wilson says that stuff gives you cancer," House said.
Cuddy glared at him and took a teaspoon out of her silverware drawer.
"So do you want to talk about this or what?" House asked.
"What's there to talk about? We broke up, remember?" Cuddy asked coolly.
"WE didn't break up. YOU walked out of my office," House reminded her.
"That's because YOU called me a hypocrite for protecting you all these years and sending Chase to the rehab clinic," Cuddy shot back.
"That's because Chase DIDN'T need rehab!" House argued.
"He THANKED me when he came out of it. It HELPED him," Cuddy stated.
"He only took eleven pills!" House shouted.
"Is this why you came here? To argue with me about Chase?" Cuddy demanded.
"What do you want from me!?" House demanded.
"I WANT YOU TO TELL ME THE TRUTH!" Cuddy exclaimed, spinning around to face him.
House met her blazing eyes with his own, not daring to look away from her. She took a few steps towards him, closing the distance between them.
"You didn't give a CRAP that I put Chase in rehab! You just used that as an EXCUSE to push me out of your life!" Cuddy stated angrily.
"YOU'RE RIGHT! I DID!" House yelled.
Cuddy shook her head ever so slightly, not believing her ears.
"…I'm right?" she managed to say, barely able to get the words out.
House kept his gaze on her for only a moment longer before he walked over to her kitchen table and slumped down in a chair.
Cuddy watched him in complete bewilderment.
"Why would you do that?" Cuddy asked him softly.
House met her gaze once more. But this time, there was no anger in her eyes.
She sat down at the table next to him. As she did so, House looked down at the table- top, examining the patterns that naturally existed in the grain of the wood.
"…Does it have something to do with the fact that you're feeling less pain lately?" Cuddy asked tentatively.
At this, House looked up from the table top in slight surprise and smirked.
"Wilson has a big mouth," House stated in a deadpanned voice.
Cuddy laughed. "He sure does," she said.
House nodded, the smirk changing to a soft smile as he looked back down at the table top.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Cuddy asked him, placing her hand over his.
"Because I don't have an explanation for it," House replied.
"So… you broke up with me because you were obsessed with a medical mystery…" Cuddy mused. "Yeah, that sounds like you."
"There can only be two explanations for the decreased pain. Either it's temporary and it'll come back, or there's something else wrong," House told her, the agitation beginning to grow in his voice again.
Cuddy looked at him quizzically.
"… Still not understanding where you're going with this—" Cuddy began.
"You want a baby!" House blurted out.
Cuddy shook her head, now completely confused.
House threw up his hands in frustration, letting them fall onto his lap.
"And if I'm too stoned to hear the baby cry in the middle of the night or if I can't go to her because I'm in a wheelchair, then what good am I?" House demanded.
"'Her?'" Cuddy quipped.
House raised his eyebrows and stared at her for a second. He then leaned back against the chair, looking down at his lap.
"Leave it to you to pick out the most insignificant detail in that statement," House muttered.
Cuddy smiled at him with closed lips and touched his face. House didn't look up at her.
"Wilson thinks that I'm feeling less pain because of you," House admitted.
"Then wouldn't it make sense that you would have felt MORE pain after I walked out on you?" Cuddy asked him.
"Which is why I can rule out psychological or emotional causes," House mumbled. "The decreased pain has a physical cause."
"Look at me," she said gently.
House finally did as she asked, taking in the soft, beautiful features of her face.
"I understand what you're afraid of…" Cuddy began.
"But no matter how brilliant you are, you still can't predict the future," she continued.
"I come pretty close most of the time," he said in a raspy voice.
"MOST of the time," Cuddy pointed out with a grin.
House chuckled slightly and nodded.
"If the pain comes back, we'll deal with it," Cuddy told him.
"And if something else is wrong?" House asked, barely above a whisper.
"Then we'll deal with that, too," she replied.
"'We?'" House asked.
"Yeah," Cuddy told him.
With that, Cuddy leaned in closer to him, brushing her lips against his. House felt a warm feeling fill his chest as they kissed and as the palm of her hand touched his cheek once more.
"So I guess that means that you forgive me for making you cry," House finally said, after their lips had parted.
"Take me to bed, you jerk," Cuddy murmured against his mouth.
Once House and Cuddy had reached the doorway to Cuddy's bedroom, House suddenly scooped Cuddy off her feet, making her shriek.
"Greg! What are you doing?!" she exclaimed, grabbing onto him as he held her in his arms.
"I've always wanted to carry you into our bedroom," House said huskily.
"But your leg—" she began, feeling a wave of arousal come over her at the mention of her bedroom being 'theirs' again.
"Doesn't hurt as much anymore, remember?" he reminded her.
"You wanna make it worse?" she asked him pointedly.
"Shut up and let me do this," he said, bringing her over to her bed.
He placed her down and climbed onto the bed next to her, gathering her close to him.
He pressed his body against hers, engulfing her lips in a passionate and forbidding kiss. Cuddy moaned into his mouth, winding her arms around his neck.
House traveled his hand down the curve of her thigh and hooked it under her knee. He then pulled her leg up over his hip. His erection strained against his jeans, pressing against the soft fabric of her yoga pants, begging to be set free.
As his lips and tongue explored hers, Cuddy thrust her hips against his body wantonly.
House thrust back, delighting in the friction their bodies were creating.
He moved his mouth down her neck to the exposed curves of her breasts, tasting the sweet saltiness of her skin. Cuddy slowly arched her back, encouraging him.
He slipped his hands down to the hem of her t- shirt, pulling it slowly over her head, revealing a white, lacy demi- cup bra.
"Oh god…" House groaned at the sight of her luscious breasts peering out of the top.
"Touch me," Cuddy begged him.
House needed no further invitation.
He reached around her back and popped the closure of her bra open. He tore away the cumbersome garment and greedily took one of her nipples into his mouth.
Cuddy whimpered in pleasure as he suckled her. As his lips and tongue teased her nipple, she continued to grind against him.
Once again, he pressed his hips against hers. The pleasure between their bodies was so intense that it was almost painful for him.
Cuddy reached down between them and undid the button and zipper of his jeans. House groaned in relief.
But he shuddered as her tiny hand curled around his erection. As he looked down, the visual of her hand on his cock was almost enough to push him over the edge.
She began to stroke him, but he stopped her.
"No," he told her.
Cuddy looked up at him and saw an intensity in his eyes that she had missed terribly.
They removed the rest of their clothing. House took his time peeling off her white, lacy thong past her hips, thighs and feet.
"Spread your legs for me, baby," House told her in a low voice.
Cuddy gasped at his demand and eagerly complied.
He then thrust into her deeply, filling her up and making her cry out.
She gripped the blanket and arched back each time he pushed into her. He re- positioned her leg over his shoulder, to penetrate her as deeply as he could. She could feel her excitement rise within her merely from the position they were in, sexy cries escaping her throat at every thrust.
Their breathing became ragged gasps as Cuddy could feel herself getting closer to climax with each deep thrust.
"…I'm so close," Cuddy said in between breaths.
"… Me too," House managed to say, closing his eyes.
"...Oh, Greg… please... don't stop… oh!" she pleaded as delicious waves of pleasure crashed over her.
"Oh god, Lise…" he groaned.
He buried his face in her neck as he exploded inside her, silently pleading that his sperm would find their way.
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At around the same time, Sophie was sitting in the passenger seat of Joey's car, looking out the window at the dark streets of Boston.
"So you gonna give me the silent treatment the whole way?" Joey asked her, glancing at her briefly as he drove.
"I really don't feel like talking," Sophie mumbled.
"And I don't believe that for a minute," Joey said.
Sophie shot him a sidelong glance and then looked back out the window.
"I lied to my boyfriend," Sophie said sadly.
Joey rolled his eyes but didn't reply as he continued to drive.
"I told him I had rounds tonight. He has no idea that I'm playing in this game," Sophie continued.
"So what?" Joey asked her in irritation. "Is he your father? Does he have to keep tabs on you every minute?"
"That's not the point," Sophie muttered in disgust.
"So you lied to him. Big deal. When you show him the thick bankroll you're gonna take off these humps tonight, trust me, he's not gonna care," Joey assured her.
At this, Sophie turned to face him in her seat.
"And why do you say that?" she asked him.
"Because there's NOTHING sexier than a girl who can play poker like you can," Joey told her with a grin.
"Now I KNOW you're insane," Sophie told him.
Joey's grin broadened as she looked back out her window.
"And how are you so sure I'm gonna win? You said the risk was moderately high," she reminded him, turning back to him once more.
"I said the risk was MODERATE. You ASSUMED moderately high," Joey clarified.
Sophie made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a grunt as she looked back out the window.
"Well, here we are," Joey said, making a right turn up a private driveway.
Sophie narrowed her eyes as she looked at the large brick and stone mansion- style house that Joey had driven up to. There were white, large Greek letters on the front of the house.
"This is a frat house," Sophie stated, confused.
"Can't put anything past you, can I?" Joey teased.
"What's going on?" Sophie demanded.
Joey unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned closer to her, locking his eyes with hers as he placed his hand on the back of the passenger seat.
"Inside that frat house are a bunch of Richie- Rich, Trust Fund spoiled brats who love nothing more than spending all their parents money on booze and poker on a Friday night," Joey informed her.
Sophie arched her eyebrow at him.
"And they all SUCK at cards," Joey added, his own eyes dancing excitedly.
"So where's the risk?" Sophie asked him lightly.
"The risk is convincing them that YOU don't know the first thing about this game," Joey told her.
He then brushed a stray lock of her hair away from her face, letting the tip of his finger trail down her cheek. Sophie stiffened at his touch.
"But that you're VERY willing to learn," he added suggestively.
"I'm not THAT willing," Sophie stated firmly, moving away from him brusquely.
"Don't worry. I'm talking 'lookie' no 'touchie,'" he assured her.
Sophie eyed him suspiciously, crossing her arms against her chest.
"Just flirt with them a little," he told her. "You'd done it before."
"If ONE of those guy puts his hands on me in there—" Sophie began to warn him.
"I won't let that happen," Joey assured her.
Sophie looked through the windshield at the fraternity house in front of her.
She took a breath and exhaled, knowing that she didn't have much of a choice at this point.
She reached for the handle of the car door and opened it.
"This is the last time I'm doing this," Sophie told him as she got out of the car.
"Whatever you say, baby," Joey said as he got out of the car as well.
TBC...