"Jen?" Sarah's weak voice called out from down the corridor.
House heard her, but refused to acknowledge the call. He had convinced Jen to move to the sofa and they'd been making out like teenagers. After kissing her for long minutes, he'd moved his mouth to her neck and managed to weave his hand inside her top, running his fingertips around the edges of her lacy bra. He had pushed her into a more horizontal position and was leaning on top of her, his good leg thrust between hers. By her sighs and the way she was rubbing her crotch against his thigh, he didn't think it would be long before clothes were going to be removed. He wondered absently if the condom in his wallet was still in date.
It took Jen's brain a while to process that her name was being called. That it was a female voice saying her name and not a gravely man's voice, half-groaning it into her ear, as it had been a few minutes ago.
"Jen? Are you there? I feel sick…"
Jen processed the information reluctantly and realised that she had to drag her lips away from their current job of exploring the soft skin of his neck just below where his beard stopped.
"Stop, stop." She put her hands against House's chest, pushing him back into the couch cushions. She sighed, realising it was just as well that Sarah had called a halt to things, even if it was unintentional.
The more upright position gave House better access to Jen's top and he reached over to grab the hem, intending to pull it up over her head.
"She'll be fine, she's got a bucket," he said.
Jen frowned at him, surprised at his lack of sympathy. She wondered what sort of doctor he was and whether or not he was any good.
She put her hands over his, pulling them away from her t-shirt.
"I'll be back," she said, rising and heading off down the corridor.
House flopped his head back on the sofa cushions, wondering what the hell he was doing. He hadn't set eyes on any skin other than her face and arms, and he wondered how much effort it was going to take to even get see her bra. This whole making out thing was good in theory, but vastly unsatisfying in practice. He decided that if her t-shirt didn't come off in the next fifteen minutes he was getting out of there.
Jen returned to the living room after sitting with Sarah for a little while.
"She was fine, just a bit disoriented," Jen explained. "She just needed me to talk to her until she could sleep again."
House nodded and patted the sofa next to him enthusiastically.
"Shall we take up where we left off?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or should we move into the bedroom?"
Jen swallowed hard. Going in to tend to Sarah had given her some much-needed thinking time. She didn't know quite why, but being in his presence caused her brain to malfunction in some way. She just couldn't think straight. But there was something a bit unseemly about making out with someone while her sister was sick in the other room. It was lucky that Sarah had called out when she had, because Jen had seriously been about to lose it – lust had silenced her many inner gremlins. Her fingers had itched to reach down and undo his jeans, her breasts had ached to feel his hands on her bare flesh.
"I think it's probably a good idea for you to leave," she said, trying to sound gentle about it. "I really should be focusing on my sister."
"I'm not stopping you from doing that," House insisted. "Whenever she calls out you can go check on her."
Jen looked away, not meeting his eyes. Deep down, she knew she was using Sarah as an excuse.
"No, that wouldn't work."
House sighed in frustration. He could tell that something was going on with Jen, that for some reason she was scared about going beyond kissing. Hell, she'd even been scared of kissing him last night. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know why, but his curiosity couldn't let it go.
"Jen, what is going on here? One minute you're groaning in my ear and your hands are on my ass, the next you're kicking me out. I'm confused." And frustrated, he added silently.
She blushed. Had she really had her hands on his ass? It was no wonder he was confused. She had no idea what was going on either.
With a sigh she sat down heavily on the sofa next to him.
"I'm sorry. It's just that…" she turned to him with a pained look in her eyes.
House felt his stomach drop and instantly regretted asking the question. Getting laid wasn't worth having to go through a counselling session first.
"Look, if you're going to tell me you've been raped or abused or something like that, it's better that we just end things here."
"What?" Jen asked sharply. "No, no, nothing like that."
"Good." House sighed in relief.
"No, if something like that had happened, at least I'd have a better reason for my behaviour." She took a deep breath and decided to take a deep dive into honesty.
"I broke up with someone. It was a year ago, but I haven't really been out on the dating scene since then. He was the first guy I slept with – we met at college and we were together for twelve years. So I'm just really nervous, because, I guess, I've only slept with one guy."
"This is the guy who didn't like kissing?" House asked.
"Yep. He didn't really like sex either. Or so he said at the time. Of course, once I caught him sleeping with one of his grad students he told me that he just didn't like sex with me." For the last few years of their relationship, sex had become a special occasion thing – for birthdays and Christmas. Jen had tried to accept it as a natural part of a relationship's progression, but she couldn't deny it had left her unsatisfied.
House looked at her carefully. She was looking away from him, but she didn't seem on the verge of tears or particularly upset. Her voice was calm. She had obviously had time to work through the betrayal. She just seemed embarrassed about the fact that she didn't have much sexual experience. Well, he shrugged to himself, there was one way to fix that.
"Right. So he cheated on you and you broke up," House summarised.
"Yeah, that's about the size of it."
"So why all the angst?" House asked. It seemed pretty simple to him.
"What do you mean?" Jen turned to face him, disbelieving that she'd just told him the most embarrassing information about herself and he was being dismissive.
"I mean, you just have to get back on the horse. So to speak."
"But it's not that easy," Jen protested.
"Dr Edwards, I'm not sure if it's the PhD in philosophy that gives it away, but something tells me you think too much." He gave her a crooked smile. "It actually is that easy. I mean, I am that easy."
Jen couldn't help but laugh.
"So you think I should just have sex?" she asked, amused.
"Lets follow the logic of the ancient philosophers." House adopted a lecturing pose. "You are worried about the fact that you don't have enough sexual experience. Right so far?" He checked in with her.
She nodded.
"The fact that you don't have a lot of sexual experience stops you from actually having more sexual experiences."
Jen nodded again, cringing at hearing her situation relayed back to her in such black and white terms. It did sound ridiculous when he put it that way.
"However, as we know from Aristotle, you can never step into the same river twice." House was bluffing wildly now. He knew a great deal about many things, but he was primarily a scientist and, apart from the basic pop cultural references, knew little about philosophy.
Jen laughed again at his silliness.
"Ergo, to solve problem A, you must overcome problem B. And I just happen to be offering myself to the cause."
"You're prescribing me sex?" Jen asked.
"As long as it is supervised by a suitably qualified doctor, yes."
"And are you qualified?" Jen asked, realising that somehow she'd overcome her embarrassment. She was bantering with him like they were talking about the price of bread or something equally banal.
"I'm board certified," House answered. Jen could see that his words were joking but his tone and his eyes were serious – and more than a bit sleazy. She almost let out a nervous giggle at how predatory he looked.
Before she could reply, Sarah's voice called out to her again.
"Jen, can you get me some water?"
Jen froze, caught in House's gaze. His look made her suddenly aware that they were talking about something much more intimate than bread. She was conscious of her skin, and the tightness of the lace over her nipples, the dampness of her panties from their earlier make-out. She was also conscious of the roll of stomach fat she could feel popping over the waistband of her jeans and that her large breasts weren't as firm as they'd been ten years ago. She called out to her sister without moving her eyes from his.
"I'll be right there."
"So, what will it be?" House asked.
"I…think you're right," Jen said, swallowing hard.
"Of course I'm right," he said smugly. "When you get to know me better, you'll realise that I'm almost always right."
Jen considered her next move. It was true, she did think too much. But it was time to be brave. It would be better if she could just jump in with eyes closed, not giving herself time to think any further, but she didn't think she could manage that with Sarah lying in the room next door, potentially interrupting at any moment.
"Can we…" Jen took a deep breath for courage. "Can we go to your place?"
"What about your sister?" House asked, surprised that Jen would leave her alone.
"I'll call a friend and get them to sit with her. Then I'll come meet you."
He smiled, that knee-melting smile that had butterflies rushing back into Jen's stomach. She had to turn away and busy herself so that she didn't give her brain time to work on an argument that would have her changing her mind.
She grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and handed House a pen and paper on her way back.
"Write down your address."
She picked up her cell phone and called Fiona, one of the girls that had been out the night before and explained the situation and that she had to run errands. Fiona said she'd be over right away.
Jen went into Sarah and gave her the water, explaining that Fiona was coming to sit with her.
When she walked back out into the living room, he wasn't there. There was just a piece of paper lying on the sofa with an address scribbled on it. Jen picked it up, her hands shaking slightly, and wondered what she'd got herself into.
--
House swirled the whisky in his glass as he discreetly watched Jen sit in her car outside his place. She'd pulled up about ten minutes before and still had yet to get out of the car. At first, she'd flipped the visor and checked herself in the mirror, applying lip gloss and appraising the result. He'd thought it looked fine, but she'd scowled and wiped it off again, reapplying twice until she seemed satisfied.
Then she'd picked up her purse and looked as if she was about to get out. But she'd frozen and sat still for a while. Then she put her purse down, pulled her seatbelt back on and started the ignition.
After hitting the steering with the heel of her hands, she turned off the ignition and picked up her purse again. She checked her lip gloss and hair in the mirror one more time before visibly taking a deep breath and getting out of the car.
House moved away from the window and over to the door, opening it before she had a chance to knock.
"You'd better come in," he said to her. "This isn't going to work."
