A/N: Thanks to all you wonderful readers! I hope you continue to enjoy the fun as much as I am :D

I forgot to mention this in the first chapter, but… *cough* Don't own Glee, its characters, or its fantastic music.

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He was fucking insane, he concluded as he waited in the shadows. It wasn't any of his business why she was stripping at one of the seediest bars in New York City. None.

Things change.

He should just turn around and go home, try to forget the way she'd felt in his arms, the way she'd swept her tongue against his and tasted like peppermint and her stage name and mind-blowing sex.

I expected better from you.

Even if it meant he'd never know why she was there, even if he fucking needed to know why she was there.

Don't.

She finally appeared at the main entrance, buttoning up her coat against the spring chill, and he let out a heavy sigh of relief when she sauntered in the direction of the nearest subway stop, twelve city blocks away.

He maintained a steady distance, studying her each time she fell under the illumination of the street lights. Squeaky clean skin, denim skirt – she was still the same, in that regard – and an unhappy tilt to her mouth.

Puck wondered, not for the first time that night, what had happened to drive her from the ambitions of dreamy Broadway headliner to hardened stripper.

He was about to call out to her when she veered into a pitch black alley. Why the hell is she taking a detour through prime hobo territory? He turned the corner and cautiously headed into the darkness, wrinkling his nose at the pungent scent of trash and decay – then he bellowed, barely missing the stinging spray of mace as a diminutive figure leapt out at him from the shadows of a dumpster.

"The fuck, Berry!" he roared, shoving her arm out of the way. He heard the metallic clatter as the can was knocked out of her hand. Her knee slammed against his gut, and he let out a strong oof. Anticipating her next move, he side-stepped her as she tried to knee him again. Off-balance, she teetered slightly, and he pinned her against the brick wall, easily holding her wrists high above her head.

"You lured me in here so you could pepper spray me to death?" he yelled incredulously.

She struggled once, twice, three times. "Get off," she hissed, her legs scrambling against the cement. He avoided the sharp kick she aimed at his groin and pressed his thigh between hers, splaying her open to his mercy. Her skirt, already tantalizingly short, hitched upwards.

Coming down from the surge of adrenaline, Puck looked down at the two of them, feeling the heaving of her chest against his. His penis, already half-awake, began to strain uncomfortably against the fly of his jeans.

She sputtered, rather belatedly, "Why the hell are you following me?"

He stroked his free hand over her knee and along the soft skin on her thigh, listening to the way her breath became unsteady at his touch. His fingers walked along the hem of her skirt, slipped underneath.

"Do you like it when people watch you strip for them?" he finally asked.

Her wrists tensed against his iron-fast grip. "Shut up."

His hand slid higher until he was rubbing his roughened knuckles against her damp inner thighs, and she quivered against him, biting her lip against the wild rush of arousal.

"You're not on Broadway, baby," and his teeth nipped at her earlobe, "but in that shithole, you're wearing nothing but lace, touching yourself in front of horny men, and it's the only way you can be the star again - "

"I said, shut up."

"You're kinky, Berry," he whispered as he mouthed the curve of her shoulder, "you like people to watch you grind your pussy into that metal pole."

Her feet scrambled for purchase against the brick, found none.

He touched her thigh again, feeling her essence against his fingertips. "You liked the way I looked at you."

No response, but Puck felt the sudden rush of moisture against his hand. He chuckled, sliding his knee between hers. "I saw the way your thighs were wet when you crawled towards me," he said throatily.

"You're so full of shit – "

"No, you," mimicking the slang of their teenage years, "you're gonna lie when I can feel how wet you are still?"

"You're an asshole," she said breathlessly.

Puck briefly cupped her, hissing at the intense heat against his palm, watched as her eyes rolled back in pleasure. "Fuck, you really get off on the whole watching thing, don't you?" A brief pause, as he considered the woman in front of him. Her face was flushed with desire, and he pressed his mouth to her ear, licking the shell until he felt her tremble.

"I've never had that happen until tonight," Rachel finally admitted, almost inaudibly.

Jesus.

"You would've let me take you on that stage," he said huskily, flipping open the buttons of her coat one by one, "let me dive between your legs and suck your clit off."

Her breath hitched at his words, and he growled low in his throat as his hand slipped underneath her t-shirt and cupped her breast.

"I would've made you come into my mouth, licked you up and started all over again," he breathed into her ear, taking her nipple between his fingertips and squeezing lightly. At her soft cry, he pinched it harder, rolling it between his fingers as she bucked against him.

"You were such a tease," he purred, squeezing her breast, "pushing your tits against my chest and grinding your wet snatch into my dick. You wanted me to fuck you."

Rachel gasped as she felt his hand slip underneath the hem of her jean skirt, threading through the curls gracing her core. "I wasn't teasing," she tried, knowing full well she was lying, because the alternative was just dangerous.

"You were trying to get me to come in my pants," Puck growled savagely, his fingers skipping over her nether lips. "I could smell you, smell how hot you were at the thought of me coming all over your perfect ass, and all I wanted to do was rip that excuse of a thong you were wearing and fuck you till you screamed the place down."

She arched her back as he dipped a finger into her wetness. She was drenched, her walls clenching around him like a vise, and his cock twitched at the thought of burying himself deep inside her. He added another finger, moisture pooling into his palm as he slowly circled her clit with his thumb, feeling her ragged breath against his skin.

"You'd let me, wouldn't you?" he queried, adding a third finger. She arched her back at the sensation – yes, on the curve of her mouth – and he twisted his wrist, arching his fingers deep inside her. She cried out, her toes skittering against the pavement. "Did you leave your panties behind in the hope that I'd find you and fuck you blind?"

"Too wet – couldn't wear them – Puck," she said brokenly.

He stroked her clit, feeling her tighten around him. "Tell me to stop," he said, low. She opened her mouth, moaned, and he squeezed his eyes shut as she rode his fingers. "Berry, tell me to stop or I'm going to take you right here."

Rachel closed her eyes and laid her cheek against the dirty brick. "I can't," came from her in a reluctant sigh, and he let out a breath between gritted teeth. The other hand that was bracing her wrists against the wall finally relaxed, and she skimmed her fingertips against the bulging front of his jeans.

Fuck, he thought as she palmed his cock, squeezed hard enough to make his eyes cross.

She snapped open the top button of his jeans and slid the zipper down. His penis sprang forth into her waiting hands, and he groaned when she slipped her hand from base to tip.

"You're driving me crazy," Puck growled, sucking against the base of her throat, leaving a mark against her pale skin. She wasn't going to forget him tonight, any night. "Put your legs around me," he ordered, hefting her against the wall, testing the weight of her against him.

She gasped when he parted her legs wider and replaced his fingers with his cock. "I'm going to give you what you've been asking for," he rasped, sliding against her heat. She was so wet that he glided easily across her clit. Rachel tried to shift him deeper inside her, but he kept a firm grip on her thighs, his fingers bruising into her flesh.

"Tell me," and he inched forward until he was barely splitting her open. He could feel the intense heat emanating from her core. She was soaked, her inner muscles clenching tightly around the blunt head of his cock. He waited, feeling her strain against him.

"Please," softly came from her, and he shook his head.

"That's not what I mean," he chided, minutely slipping away from her, groaning as she fluttered around him.

"Puck," she pleaded, her face suffusing with embarrassment at the need in her voice.

He smirked, flexed his hips lightly, traced her ear with his tongue. "Say it," was his response.

Her hands clenched around his biceps, halting his retreat. Rachel bit her lip, looking strangely vulnerable and shy, and then she tossed her head back, gazing directly at him. "I've been so bad tonight," she murmured hungrily. "I've been so bad, and you're going to give it to me, you're going to fuck me blind - "

Puck moaned, long and low, and slammed into her. Dimly registering the sensation of her clawing at his back, he plundered her, feeling her quiver tightly around him. She rolled her hips back and forth, mimicking the dance from earlier, and he could hear the blood roaring in his ears.

His hips snapped against hers over and over again. He was penetrating her so deeply that he was scraping against her g-spot with each push. He slowed the pace, hearing her agonized whimper, and he spread her thighs wide open. Bracing his legs for leverage, he thrust his cock to the hilt.

She let out a small scream, and he covered her mouth with his. "Don't want to wake the neighbours," he purred against her mouth, "or I'd have to stop, and you wouldn't want me to stop, would you?"

"No, no, no, no," she moaned in counterpoint to his savage thrusts.

He pounded relentlessly into her, whispering into her ear – do you like how deep I'm inside you, your pussy feels so tight around my cock, I wanna make you come around me so bad, baby you're so wet for me – until she buried her tongue in his mouth.

He felt her seize around him, heard his name slip brokenly from her lips, and lost control. She cupped his head in her hands – oh jesus baby I'm gonna come - clutching him as he exploded inside her.

Eventually, Puck came back to himself. They were breathing heavily, her arms were still wrapped around his shoulders, and he was softening, slipping from her damp core. He touched her briefly on her thigh, rubbing the droplets of him and her into her skin. She made a mmm sound with her throat.

He leaned forward, brushing his nose against hers, licking at the seam of her lips. Tenderly, he sipped at her mouth, drawing a satisfied hum and the tightening of her arms around him.

He was screwed, he realized, as he traced her smile with his tongue, felt it widen as he stroked her sweaty hip with his fingers. Unbelievably screwed, because he wanted to take her home to his shitty apartment and have her all over again. Make her moan in his cheap Target sheets until she came all over his face, screw her into oblivion, tie her to the bed because she was going back to that shithole over his fucking dead body –

In the distance, they heard the pitched whine of a FDNY fire truck, and as if that sound propelled her into reality, she pulled away and began putting her clothes to rights. She looked like she'd been ravaged, he realized as he noted the damage: swollen lips, mussed hair, visible bruises on her thighs where he'd spread her open for his cock. She touched the gigantic hickey at the base of her neck – take that to your next lap dance, he thought savagely – before she buttoned her coat, protecting the evidence against prying eyes.

He caught her hand when she was about to flee, twining their fingers. She pulled, almost furiously, looking abashed when he merely tightened his grip.

"Berry, wait," he said, low.

"Don't come back," she said crisply, and he briefly caught sight of the haughty look she would wear in glee before she began a speech about the merits of her next solo, before her eyes shuttered. "It was a good time, but that was it, and we're done now."

"Dammit, Rachel - " he burst out, stinging at her dismissal.

Her heart seized in a quick, painful flutter. "Don't," she breathed desperately, and yanked her hand away, breaking the last touch of contact between them. "Just – don't."

He stormed after her retreating figure, blinking owlishly at the light emanating from the streetlamp. She stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle at a passing cab, ignoring the seething man beside her.

"This isn't over," he flung at her, swearing when she almost slammed the door on his foot. She turned to gaze at him through the open window, watching as he became a speck in the distance.

"Goodbye, Noah," she said quietly.