A/N: 2 and ½ pages of shameless smut. If you're not interested, the ending of Chapter 2 can suffice to end the story.

Chapter 3: Love You Anytime

Britta's mouth is soft and slack. She is stunned for only a second or two before she's kissing him back. When she begins muttering about how they, "don't have to do this," he kisses her neck and that spot behind her ear that makes her dig her nails into his arm. Her skin is salty and a little sweet as he traces the edge of her ear with his tongue and sucks the lobe into his mouth.

Jeff can't believe he's actually advocating this, sober no less. She's leaned back onto the arm of the couch and he's sliding down her body placing kisses on the exposed flesh as it appears before him. She's warm and soft, softer than she looks. Britta always smells like that Organic Almond soap she uses and Bamboo shampoo and conditioner that he doesn't ever admit her steals when he stays at her place.

As he jerks the blue cotton on her tank top up, he buries his face in the cradle of her hips and breathes in. She gently wriggles beneath him while he's fiddling with the buttons on her jeans and she's got her fingers twisted in his hair. Usually she'd complain about his hair product on her hands but she won't have the opportunity this time since his hair is still a little damp and un-styled from the shower.

Jeff smiles and leaves himself a little series of red marks on her as he moves across Britta's milky white hips. They'll serve as a little possessive trail of bread crumbs on his way back.

When they get her pants off her underwear is revealed to be light pink cotton, simple and small. He knows it'll match her bra because she always matches when she can…and because Jeff noticed immediately that he could see it though her shirt. That's why it's one of his favorites. It always turns him on a little to see her in it. It's something about confused modesty and her subtle sexuality. He never said because she never takes his compliments the way he intends them. Still, he thinks she must know he likes it.

"Jeff, Jeff, this is bad, we-we said we were going to stop. Remember, it's not me, its y-you." He hears her voice above his head and although she sounds like she's implying he should stop she's shivering beneath him as he blows hot air over the junction between her legs. The front of her panties is damp and as he slides them down her legs she stops speaking and stretches out beneath him. Her curls are trimmed short and blond like the hair on her head.

He slips his tongue between her folds and flattens it as he drags it the length of her center. She keens above him and if Jeff weren't busy he would be telling her that he's winning. He flicks his tongue back and forth. Once. Twice. Three times before she's hauling him up to her face.

She kisses him fully and by now his towel is abandoned beneath them on the couch and she's reaching blindly on the ground, in her bag, as her tongue slips into his mouth and curl around his own. When she pulls out a string of condoms he breaks the kiss and laughs.

"Big weekend?" She snorts and hits him on the arm.

"I knew we were hanging out, douche." She laughs this time as she grabs his shaft and scratches her nails from the base to the tip. He drops his head and moans above her. She pushes the condom over him and pulls him towards her.

When Jeff slips into her it's no different than any other time they've done this, only, it is. She's hot and tight and wet, as per the usual, but she's looking at him as he moves in and out and she isn't looking away or closing her eyes. She shudders, gripping his shoulders. When he dips his head to the crook of her neck she nuzzles the side of his face with her own.

When her legs hook behind his back he pushes them closer to the side of the couch and she arches her back over the arm. He kisses the skin between her breasts and he can feel her reaction as she tightens around him. He moves faster and she begins making little noises in the back of her throat and it spurns him to push deeper, with less control.

Abruptly she lifts her head up and jerks her hips forward. She slips her hands between them and twists his right nipple gently. Jeff shudders and as she flicks his other nipple she pushes them off the couch and onto the floor. He's shocked and catching his breath when she sits up and rotates her hips against his. The change in pace and friction are shocking and he can feel his cock jump inside her. From this angle he's deeper in her than the previous position. She can only lift his hips and hold onto her waist as she rides him.

"This is allyour fault." She moans above him and her voice quivers and brings his attention back up to her face. Her hair is making a golden halo above her head, mostly because it's silhouetted against his ceiling fixture. Still, she looks like some kind of Nordic Princess and he feels like he's died and gone to Valhalla.

He lets his hands roam up her torso and as they cup her small breasts he can feel her legs begin to shake. He can also feel himself filling and tensing and he struggles to hold himself back. She's close and he wants to wait it out.

When she doubles over above him, squeezing her legs together, and her walls are pulling at him desperately he releases. His head tilts back, his eyes squeeze shut and his mouth opens with a grunt. When he comes back to himself he has a mouth full of blond hair and he's having trouble breathing because she's still on his chest.

He spits the hair out with a sputter and he hears a giggle come from the vicinity of her mouth. She slides off him and to the side. She's now partially under the coffee table, smiling smugly as she snuggles into his side. She stretches, a little cat-like, and settles herself.

He puts his arms behind his head and in the after-glow he wonders why he was so concerned. They can do their own thing. They don't have to be in anyone's box, they can just be Jeff Winger and Britta Perry of Greendale Community College's premier study group.

"You know, if we just do this, then they win." She's looking off across him at the couch with a little frown on her face.

"Britta, we're the ones getting laid regularly, watching documentaries and going to 'L' Street,"

"The Red Door."

"And making out whenever we want to make them feel uncomfortable. I think that pretty much implies we win."

"You think?"

She looks up at him, her lips are swollen and her eyes are bright. He can't help but smile and he un-bends an arm to wrap it around her shoulders before looking back up at the ceiling.

"Definitely."

"You know, the pizza's going to be here in like 5 minutes."

"I'll put pants on." His sigh is more for effect than anything else, he is really hungry actually.

Britta nods and begins to sit up but Jeff grabs her wrist and tugs her back down beside him. "Jeff, I should prob-"

"You don't." Britta rolls her eyes but lies back down.