Disclaimer: See initial chapter.

A/N: Inspired by, "Lakini's Juice" - Live; cottoncandy_bingo square: caressing/petting/stroking.

Reviews would be awesome.


The woman, Jenny or Julie or some variation of a plain name that starts with the letter J, is leading him to the dance floor. Danny doesn't dance, but he wants more, more of this. More of catching glimpses of Steve hot and bothered, practically splitting at the seams in his possessive jealousy.

And now he's no longer just playing with the fire, he's baiting it – fanning the flames, fueling it with meaningful glances and stolen kisses, licking a stripe along Jackie's, Jessica's, Joslyn's neck and cupping her ass. He's coaxing the fire into a blazing inferno. Beckoning the hounds of hell to come and get him. Charming the devil into have his wicked, wicked way with him.

He likes having Jasmine's, Jade's, Josie's, tongue in his ear – wet and inquisitive – and her nylon-clad foot inching its way up his thigh. An unsubtle hint as to what will happen when he uses the cardkey that she slid into his pocket – slender fingers wriggling suggestively, and lingering a little longer than is strictly necessary.

Danny knows that Jamie, June, Judy, isn't their target; he's pretty sure it was the woman he'd seen his partner hone in on seconds before Jean, Johanna, Jarly, pulled him out onto the dance floor. He knows that Steve was torn – wanting to have his partner's back and yet envious of the dark-haired beauties Danny had paid attention to throughout the night. He knows that Steve is itching to leave now that the person he suspects is their thief has left. He knows that this – going undercover with Steve, again – is out of the question. It's too dangerous, for all of them.

Steve can't keep his eyes off of him, and Danny's horny as a fucking teenager.

Their op is over, the night is young, and Janet, Jill, Juliette, is rubbing her body up against his, and fuck, he hasn't felt a woman's touch in a long, long time. Her hands can't seem to find a suitable place to settle, and Danny doesn't really mind. It's nice to have a woman's hands on his body – touching, caressing, and not pawing at him like Steve's. They're delicate and girly and nice.

They were nothing like Steve's hands – large, broad and always sure of themselves.

Slender fingers, feather light touches on his skin, leave goose bumps in their wake, and Danny wonders what it would be like to have those fingers where only Steve's have been. He thinks of following Julianne, Josephine, Jezebel, to her hotel room and fucking while Steve watches them from the shadows, palming himself through his clothes and biting down on his tongue to muffle his cries as he sneaks his hands beneath the band of his jeans and strokes himself to the show Danny and Jay, Jan, Jen, are making of sex.

Danny will hold off, waiting for Steve to lose control – hips gyrating, dick slip-sliding in and out of his hands until he comes and slides down the wall to land in quivering heap on his ass, still riding out his orgasm, eyes dark and hard as he watches Danny finish inside of Jo-Jo, Jacqueline, Jess.