'Sara…' Greg's voice was cracked, catching in his throat as his bound hands twisted vainly at the bedpost. 'Oh, Jesus…'

Sara looked up to see him throw his head to the side, his features contorted in a grimace as she bit down on his flesh. Rosy lines glowed on his skin where her nails had raked his chest. Worried that she was hurting him, she rose from her place straddling his hips and brushed her hand to his face. 'Hey, baby, are you okay?'

Greg's eyes opened, his breathing shallow. 'Oh yeah.'

'Am I hurting you?'

'A little; but you can't really do the pleasure-pain thing without the pain, I guess.'

Sara cradled his face in her hands. 'Do you want me to stop?'

'No!' he answered quickly. 'No…' Greg turned his head towards her, and pressed his lips to hers. 'I just… isn't this all a little selfish? Of me, I mean. You're doing all this for me and I… I'm not doing anything for you.'

The corners of Sara's mouth twitched into a smile as she ran a hand lightly over her lover's torso. 'That's what you think?' She slid back down the comforter and rested her head on his chest. 'I enjoy my work.'

'But…'

Ssssh.'

Greg's protestations dissolved into gasps as Sara returned her attentions to his body, laving a nipple with her tongue and then blowing cool air upon the moistened skin. Greg's body arched beneath her in response, his hands straining at their bonds.

'What are you doing to me?'

'Just wait and see.'

'I've never been a patient man,' he murmured. 'Are you disfiguring me again?'

'Well…' Sara rocked herself against his pelvis, surveying her handiwork. The skin of Greg's chest was peppered with patches of red, and on his left shoulder was a sizeable ring of purple she had left in a moment of particular enthusiasm. 'Just a little.'

'You know I have to use the communal showers at work? And the locker room… how am I supposed to explain that one to Nick, or Warrick? Or God forbid I have another run-in with hazmat…'

'Greg!' Sara laughed a silvery laugh and fell forwards, propping herself on her elbows. 'I'm trying to be seductive here, you know? You think you could play along a little?'

'You don't need to try,' he breathed, rising into her. 'Everything you do is sexy to me.'

Sara scoffed. 'Where'd you pick up that line? Because it sucks.'

'It's not a line,' he protested, 'I mean it.'

'Really?'

'Really.'

'You're not so bad yourself, you know,' said Sara, twisting a lock of his hair around her finger.

'Of course,' Greg replied with a wink. 'Anyway, where were we? I think you were being seductive, and I was being an immature jerk...'

Sara laughed again. Her plans of being an elegant and enticing femme fatale had gone out the window, but she didn't care. It had only been two months; less than that, really, and 'it' didn't even have a name – it wasn't a relationship, or even really an affair. It was just a thing, indefinable and unpredictable, but a hell of a lot of fun; rather like Greg himself, she thought. Sex and laughter weren't things she had ever thought of as natural bedfellows before but then hey, she had never thought of Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders as natural bedfellows either, and now here they were, lying laughing on wrinkled sheets as the sun shone down on the city behind the blinds.

'Sara?'

She raised her head, shaken out of her reverie. 'Yeah?'

'Do you feel like untying me?'

Sara was surprised to find that she felt strangely disappointed. 'Why? Are you uncomfortable with this sort of thing?'

'Not at all; I just really, really want to touch you…'

Sara smiled wickedly, her earlier resolve restored. 'Really?'

'Oh yeah.'

'In that case,' she replied, rising off of him, 'I'm sure you can wait just a little longer.'