Thursday night poker, a couple of weeks later
Wilson had an excellent hand – a straight flush – but he was doing his level best not to let it show. It was down to him, House, and House's dry cleaner, and it had been a long time since Wilson had lasted that long in a game.
Wilson kept his cards closely hidden as he reached into the bowl on the table for more nachos. For once House actually had snacks on hand to go with the beer, and not just a packet of chips bought at a gas station on the way home. There were pretzels, nachos that House had reheated in the microwave, dips and some crunchy Italian-style bread. He wondered absently if House had called caterers.
House's accountant was definitely unimpressed about having folded early. He got up and wandered around the apartment, talking loudly as if determined to disrupt the game.
"Man, you've been holding out on me!" he suddenly exclaimed.
"What?" Wilson could tell House was annoyed, he wanted to focus on his cards.
"You've got a new hooker!" The accountant used his middle finger to pick up what was obviously a black lacy thong from a lamp in the far corner. "Does this one strip? I mean, Candy is good and all, but she doesn't strip."
Wilson was intrigued and repelled in equal measure. House shared hookers with his accountant? Ugh.
Whether his concealment skills were already taxed by the poker game or for some other reason, House's discomfort was obvious. His expression stayed calm, but other little cues gave away that he obviously wished the item had remained unfound.
"Give it here." House said firmly and held out a hand. The accountant reluctantly handed him the underwear and House quickly stuffed it into his jeans pocket.
"So, she strips? She must be hot. Can I have her number?"
Wilson could almost see the rise in House's blood pressure from across the table.
"Are we here to play poker or what?" Wilson interjected. "Save the hooker talk for later, I'm about to win."
The accountant grumbled under his breath and sat down on the sofa heavily.
Wilson just ducked his head to hide his smile when House gave him a grateful glance.
Later, when Wilson won almost five hundred dollars in that round, he made a mental note to thank Jen. He was sure her underwear had given him the advantage.
--
"How about we try that new French restaurant that just opened," Jen suggested. It was Saturday evening and they'd spent the previous night and most of the day in bed. She was keen to do something active. Well, something active that wasn't sex.
"Let's just order pizza and watch a movie," Greg countered.
Jen sighed. He never wanted to go out. He'd taken her to that Italian restaurant when she'd asked him to a few weeks ago, but since then, apart from the fundraiser, they'd never been on another date. Either Jen cooked or they ordered take-out. And that wasn't good for her waistline – or her bank balance, because she insisted on taking it in turns to pay and he didn't object. He didn't seem to realise that as a glorified teacher's aid, her salary was only just enough to manage on – especially when she was still paying off college loans. She had no idea how much he earned, but she'd bet it was multiples of the number she saw on her own pay check.
"Okay, but then can we go out tomorrow? I'd really like to see that new Impressionists exhibition at the gallery."
"Maybe." Greg shrugged and she knew immediately it wouldn't happen. It wasn't that she minded the intimacy they'd created by spending so much time alone together, it was more…she craved some sunlight, some fresh air. She guessed she could go for a walk in the morning, but that would mean leaving him in bed alone… She knew she wouldn't go through with it.
"Want a beer?" he asked, rising from the sofa and heading into the kitchen.
"Yeah, all right. What are we going to watch? Have you got any DVDs?" Then she remembered when Wilson had popped in, that first weekend when he'd invited her to stay over. He'd said he was retuning DVDs and the plastic bag he'd handed over was still sitting undisturbed on the desk. She walked over to it.
"What about those ones you loaned to James? Is there any…" her voice trailed off as she pulled the DVD cases out of the bag.
Greg came out of the kitchen in a rush. "Uh, no, not that ba… Too late."
Jen actually felt a little sick about what she was holding in her hands. "You have porn?" she said, disbelieving. Then the next logical step occurred to her. "You share your porn with your friends?"
"Well, it's expensive." Greg shrugged.
Jen took a deep breath. She'd had very little experience with porn. Knew it existed, of course, but never seen it up close and certainly never watched a movie. She knew that single guys used it, but…
"I kind of understand why you'd have it, I mean you've been single for a while. But why would James want it? He and Amber have been going out for ages."
Greg got a wicked look on his face. "Wilson and Amber like to watch together. In fact apparently Amber was particularly fond of Mistress of Bondage Three." He nodded to one of the cases she was holding. "But then, you'd expect that."
"Ew." Jen decided she really didn't need to know the details of Greg's friends' sex life. And even the fact that Greg knew about it was a bit weird. She hoped to God that he didn't tell James about what they did together.
"We could watch one…" His tone was flirty, but Jen heard the question in his voice. She could tell he wanted to.
"I don't know…" Jen bit her lip. In the past few weeks she'd done and experienced things she'd barely even imagined. Sometimes even her own words and actions felt like there was a different, entirely sexual, being inside of her that only he managed to release. But this? The idea didn't appeal at all.
But given everything that they'd done together it was ridiculous for her to feel that way – wasn't it?
He obviously read the uncertainty on her face. "Look, I'll choose a really tame one and if you don't like it we can turn it off, okay?"
Swallowing hard to overcome her distaste, Jen nodded. "But not until after the food arrives. I don't want the delivery guy seeing or hearing what we're watching."
Greg gave her an incredulous look. "He's the delivery guy! Does it really matter what he thinks?"
"Yes! It does matter!" Jen's voice was louder than she'd planned and her tone seemed to startle him a bit. She wasn't sure herself where the emotion came from, especially as she didn't really care what the delivery guy thought.
"All right, after the pizza arrives," he agreed, taking the DVDs from her. "After we've eaten, okay?" he asked gently. His hand reached out and he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, like she was a small child he was trying to comfort.
As always, she couldn't help the tug she felt around her heart whenever he made some affectionate gesture toward her.
"Okay," she said, her voice small. For some reason she felt like crying.
--
True to his word, House had chosen something tame. He figured anything S&M or particularly graphic would put Jen off. But he had one movie – one that he didn't actually watch that often – that was pretty straight, entirely hetero sex. It did involve the usual lengthy blowjobs and those up-close gynaecology shots, but with just one couple and a loose plot about exploring sex in every room of their new house. It got into a bit of anal when they were in the bathroom towards the end, but that was as adventurous as it went and he figured he could turn it off by then if she wasn't into it.
He wasn't sure what reaction he'd expected. He had never actually done this with a woman – Stacy had refused point blank. She had let him do what he wanted when she wasn't around, but when she was home, she went nuts if he so much as left a cover lying around.
But Jen was more…accommodating.
Still, he hadn't quite expected her to sit primly on the sofa next to him. She'd squirmed a bit at the first sex scene – very tame, over-the-arm-of-the-sofa sex – but then had just watched quietly. As if it was a documentary or something. Usually if they were watching TV for an extended period of time, he'd rest his feet or his head in her lap, but something about her guarded posture stopped him.
During the third scene – the kitchen, where fruit, vegetables and chocolate sauce were being creatively put to use – he hit the pause button.
"You're not enjoying this."
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It's not bad. Not what I was expecting."
"What were you expecting?"
"I don't know. Not this. The food thing is kind of like Nine and a Half Weeks, do you remember that movie?"
"No. Come here."
She gave him a puzzled look, but obeyed, shifting across the sofa til she was sitting right next to him.
"What?" she asked.
He didn't answer, instead pulling her head to his, plunging his tongue into her mouth and kissing her until his lungs burned with the need to pull away and take a breath. He wanted her to be the wild, wanton Jen he knew she was capable of, and the fact that she was playing virginal, uptight Jen was highly irritating. And making him as horny as hell. He had no idea why that would be a turn on and he almost wanted to punish her for it.
"It makes you hot, watching this, doesn't it?" she asked him quietly, her voice a little shaky from the kiss.
"This one? No, not really," he admitted truthfully.
"Then where did this come from?" she asked and he felt her hand press against the hard bulge in his jeans.
"Kissing you," he said, leaning in to do it again. She moaned when his tongue slid against hers.
When they pulled apart again, both breathing hard, he couldn't read the expression in her eyes. He was caught again in their depths, remembering how he'd felt there was something important there. This time, sharing her gaze made him feel like he'd forgotten something, like there was something vital that was somehow…missing.
"I guess I liked the first scene," Jen said. She didn't sound too enthusiastic, but her hand was still caressing him gently over his jeans.
"What?" House was confused, he'd completely lost his sense of time and place, absorbed by his esoteric wonderings.
"Over the sofa. Could you do that?"
House was instantly back to Earth and desperately aroused, his cock pressing painfully hard behind his zipper. Somehow, the erotic movie had lit a fuse he'd barely been aware was burning, and at Jen's tentative request he was suddenly at fever pitch. He wondered if he'd even last long enough to get inside her.
"Yes, yes," he said, starting to pull her sweater over her head. "Quick."
"Quick?" She looked surprised.
"Seriously, hurry up or you'll miss out."
He stood and, stumbling only slightly, pulled her around to the side of the sofa, her sweater still not all the way off. She undid her jeans while he fumbled with the button and fly on his own, pushing them and his boxers down to his knees. She was trying to take off her jeans all the way, but he grabbed her hands to stop her. He bent her forward and pulled her pale pink cotton briefs down, pushing her forward with more force than was absolutely necessary as he thrust inside her.
He heard her groan – pain, pleasure, he wasn't sure – and he thrust again, pushing her hard into the arm of the sofa. He could tell she wasn't ready for him, but that made the friction with her body that more intense. He thrust again and knew he was about to lose it, unable to help the rush of sensation rising from his balls and taking over his body. Another thrust and he was coming, unable to help himself from crying out as he pumped inside her.
"Oh, Jen, ah, ah…"
His orgasm was brief but intense and he felt weak and shaky afterward. He pulled out of her and pulled up his boxers and jeans, moving around to flop back onto the sofa, sitting lengthways so he could stretch his leg out on the cushions. He closed his eyes and felt the sofa move as Jen straightened up slowly and then came around to sit next to him. He opened his eyes to find she'd pulled her underwear back into place but kicked her jeans off.
"Sorry," he said, a little embarrassed by his selfish performance.
"That's okay."
That tone in her voice, the forgiveness, grated on him. It was not okay. Stacy would not have let him get away with that. She might have let him do it, but before he'd have been able to draw breath afterwards she'd have grabbed his hand and put it against her, not allowing him to rest until she'd had her pleasure too.
And there he was thinking about Stacy again.
He watched Jen pull the half-removed sweater all the way off and then she twisted around to sit herself back against him, his legs either side of her. His bad leg was pushed back into the sofa cushions – the pressure was firm, but not uncomfortable.
"Is your leg all right?" she asked.
In answer he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tighter to his body. In her pale pink panties and matching bra she looked cute and innocent, and knowing what he'd just done to her, how he'd almost forced her, was enough to make him both ashamed and hard again.
Without saying a word, he trailed one of his hands from around her belly and starting stroking towards her mound. She gasped and House smirked. She might play the naive little girl, but really she was a sex kitten underneath. His fingers crept under her demure briefs and began stroking her folds, now wet and slippery from the residue of his orgasm.
With his other hand he reached for the remote and pressed play.
Jen twisted her head away from the television screen, but he rubbed her in time to the intercourse happening in the movie, and the sounds of the on-screen couple's lovemaking filled the living room. Jen came at the same time as the actress, both of their cries proclaiming their female pleasure to the world.
Jen's sounded a lot like a sob.
--
It was late on Sunday night when Jen walked in at her home. She'd gathered up her laundry and decided she needed at least one night at home to sleep properly and get some new clothes for the work week ahead. Sarah was in her usual place, on the sofa watching TV.
"Haven't seen you in a while." Jen could hear the slightly accusatory tone in her sister's voice.
"Sorry, I've just been busy and Greg's had long days at work, so we've been having late nights. It's just been easier to stay there." Jen felt herself blush a little, realising what she'd just given away.
Sarah looked away from the TV and gave her a smile. "It's okay. I guess it's hard to drag yourself away from the sexual highlight of your life."
Jen laughed. "Yeah, something like that."
"Come on, sit down. Watch some TV with me so I don't feel too jealous."
"Okay." Jen decided the laundry could wait. Time with her sister was important.
"How was your weekend?" Sarah asked. "And leave out any gory details, please. I didn't mind it the first time, but now that I've met him I don't want to know." Sarah was smiling, but Jen was sure there was a funny tone in her voice.
"It was…" Jen found it hard to say what her weekend had been like. It had left her feeling unsettled. But it was all too vague and sort of embarrassing to tell anyone about, so she plastered on a bright smile instead.
"It was good. I wanted to go to that new restaurant and I also thought about heading to the gallery to see that new exhibition, but in the end we didn't do much, just sat around and got take-out."
"Right. Well if leaving out the gory parts leaves you with 'we sat around and got take-out', then I can guess exactly what your weekend was about."
"Sarah!" Jen hit her sister playfully.
"Well, am I wrong?"
"No, but that's not the point. How was your weekend?"
"Okay," Sarah said. "It's no fun going out any more with all the creeps around."
"What do you mean?"
"You really are wrapped up in your own little world, aren't you?" Sarah said, and Jen had the distinct impression she'd been insulted. "There's been more drink spiking – this time a girl got cut with a knife when she wasn't as unconscious as the guy liked."
"Oh, that's awful."
"Yeah. Thankfully not anywhere near the bars we go to, but still. It's scary." Sarah shuddered and shook her head, as if to rid herself of the unpleasant thoughts. She changed the subject. "So you didn't get to the restaurant or the gallery?"
"No. Maybe I'll try to go to the gallery one night this week. Greg didn't seem that interested."
Jen looked at her sister and could see she was biting back words.
"What? What is it?"
"Jen…" Sarah took a deep breath as if she was gathering courage. "I know this is none of my business, but you just got out of a relationship with a manipulative, arrogant jerk who wanted to control your life. And I'm just wondering whether you've just jumped into another one."
"What?" Jen was astonished.
"I thought when you left Matt you were going to have some fun, play the field, make up for what you missed out on in your twenties. You were going to be this fun, confident, single woman who finally had her life back. But you've handed it straight to the first guy who told you what to do. You wanted to do things this weekend, but he wanted to stay at home, so that's all you did, right?"
"He didn't ask me to!" Jen felt she had to defend herself and defend Greg. "I just like doing nice things for him."
"Yeah and I bet he doesn't mind you doing nice things for him either. But what are you getting in return?"
Jen didn't know what to say. What was she getting back? Orgasms? Sure. But somehow that didn't seem enough – and certainly not something she could tell her sister. A sense of being loved? Maybe, but he'd never said he did.
"Jen, you are my sister and I love you," Sarah continued, "but I'm worried about you. Why are you still living here? What happened to the life you were going to have?"
Jen felt slightly nauseous at Sarah's words. Greg was not like Matt at all. Sure, he liked things the way he liked them, but…
And Jen was well aware she had overstayed her welcome in the apartment, but the reality of living by herself had been so difficult to imagine. She never had – she'd gone from home, to college dorm, to sharing with Matt. Just the idea of it made her nervous.
"I know I've outstayed my welcome. I'm sorry – you've been so patient with me," Jen felt the tears welling in her eyes, realising it was at least the third time that weekend she'd been close to tears. "But I try hard to keep the place clean and not get in your way."
Sarah sighed. "That's not what I meant at all." Jen could see she had started to tear up too. "But, Jen, just be careful. You make yourself useful and then wonder why you're being used. Don't let him do that to you too."
Jen bristled. That was not what was happening at all. Greg had helped her. Not many men would have persevered through her "virginal" defences and he had single-handedly made up for a huge amount of good sex that Jen had felt she'd missed in her life so far. Besides, he was a bit damaged too, so that made them a good pair – neither of them felt entirely comfortable in their own skins. And he was funny and intelligent and well-travelled and they could talk forever about a million subjects under the sun.
Jen avoided conflict at all costs – she hated people being upset with her or having bad blood with someone. But she couldn't let Sarah continue to think badly of Greg. She sniffed back her tears and straightened her shoulders.
"Sarah, you're right: my relationship with Greg is none of your business. If you want me to move out, I will, just say."
Sarah shook her head. "No, no, you can stay as long as you want." She gave Jen a serious look. "Fine, I'll stay out of it. I'm just concerned. I don't want to see you get hurt."
Jen smiled even though she didn't feel it, she wanted to forget this conversation had ever happened. "You're a good sister," she said.
"You too." Sarah's eyes started to well with tears again.
Jen decided to change the subject. "Can you change the channel? Grey's Anatomy is about to start."
