Jen didn't want that blue-eyed smile to melt her resolve, but from the moment he opened the door – she decided to knock rather than go straight in as she normally would – she knew she was in trouble. She'd told herself to be firm. To ask him to be more respectful of her and to compromise more often on things like how they spent their time. And she absolutely, definitely, no-question-about-it, was not going to sleep with him tonight. Even though she'd spent most of the day imaging just how many times and in how many different ways he could make her come if she let him.

Her traitorous heart leapt when he gave her a tentative smile, and she knew that she wanted him to kiss her, kiss her and take her in the bedroom and make the world disappear in that way he did. But no, she needed to be the grown up. One of them had to be, and she was betting it wouldn't be him.

She smiled back and shrugged off her coat. He immediately stepped in to help her and, as he hung it up, she was again struck by the gentlemanly manners that occasionally seemed so incongruous with his prickly exterior.

They sat on the sofa, both seeming a little nervous, and she declined his offer of a drink, noting with surprise that he didn't have one either.

She took a deep breath, figuring it was best to just get straight to it.

"Greg, you didn't have to pay my loan. That was a bit extreme, don't you think?"

"You're here aren't you?" He looked smug.

"Yeah, but it was so much money. I can't even pay you back, well not right away, but I could save up…"

He waved a hand and she could tell he was insulted by the idea.

Despite herself, her heart tugged. This was why she loved this man. Because he did ridiculously extravagant things like insult speakers in front of hundreds of people, or spend twelve thousand dollars without blinking to let her know things that he couldn't bring himself to say.

"Well, thank you. But Greg, you can't talk to me the way you did on Sunday. I know you didn't necessarily mean it. But we both had an awful time last week and then instead of making each other feel better we ended up fighting. Why?"

He shrugged and looked away.

"I'm sorry I didn't pick you up," he said quietly.

Jen swallowed, still feeling nervous. At least he had said the "s" word, but did he really think he needed to be sorry about that? There were so many other things that were far more important to say sorry for – for not being more supportive when her dad was sick, for saying those terrible things to her, for treating her like a maid sometimes. Hell, he should be sorry for not asking for her support when he was hurting about those poor babies, because he'd obviously been upset.

She shook her head, remembering the words she'd mentally rehearsed in preparation before coming over.

"I think we need to take a step back in our relationship."

A funny expression crossed Greg's face and she wondered if it was at her suggestion or just at the word "relationship".

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I know you still don't want to even call what we have a 'relationship', but Greg, we're practically living together. We might have had a shaky start, but for the past couple of months we've jumped in with both feet, even if we haven't discussed it."

He nodded, letting her continue.

"And I'm…not ready yet. I want to go back to dating. Do you think we could do that?" Jen had given it a lot of thought. They had got into things too fast. They'd started dealing with domestic issues before they even really knew each other. She still had no idea why he'd been so affected by the deaths of those babies – and she realised it was because she didn't know enough about his work, his past, his family, him.

"Dating?" There was a funny tone to his voice, but she didn't know what it meant.

"Yeah. Going out together. Having fun. Doing things together. Getting to know one another."

"Don't we do that already?"

Jen swallowed. She thought he'd understand – in fact thought he'd be happy about it. He was the one who hadn't wanted a relationship in the first place. She'd thought this would be the perfect solution – go back to dating. Her sister had been right: there were so many things Jen wanted to do before she found herself back in a full-time relationship. The idea of having her own place had started to appeal and she'd even started looking at real estate listings.

She could see his foot tapping, whether he was impatient or irritated, she wasn't sure.

"No we don't, not really Greg. We mostly stay at home, eat take-out and have sex. I want…more."

"More? Of what?"

"Of my own life."

"Ah." He got up and started pacing. "You want to see other people."

"No!" That was the furthest thing from her mind.

"You want to stop having sex?"

"No." Oh God no, not that.

"Then I don't get what's different from now."

She looked at him, and could have sworn he was actually pouting. His expression made her want to pull him into her arms and hug him like a little boy. He sat down on the sofa close to her, as if he knew that his warmth and his smell would weaken her, make her want to give up and melt into his arms.

"Oh Greg," she sighed in frustration. This was going nowhere. She was torn between walking out and pouncing on him and acting out the desperate, dirty thoughts she'd been having all day.

She wouldn't be walking out.

"Just shut up and kiss me."

He didn't wait for a second invitation, cupping her cheek with his hand as he lowered his lips to hers. His touch was tentative, at first, pulling on her lips with his, kissing her gently, like he could kiss it all better. Jen groaned, wanting more. It had only been five days since she'd last had his hands on her, but it felt like forever. If their relationship was measured only by how it felt when they touched one another, then it truly was perfect.

But still, he kept it slow, darting his tongue to taste her, tangling his hand in her hair. Jen wanted more, so much more.

"Come on." She pulled away from him and stood up, offering her hand to him.

"Impatient are we?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes. Bedroom. Now. Move. Do what I tell you."

House saw the glint in her eye and figured he could see how this was going to play out. He rose and let her lead him into the bedroom.

"Strip," she commanded him.

He felt like laughing at her, but held it in. Something told him this was what she needed, to feel in control of what was happening. He decided to let her. And it worked for him too. Losing himself in sex was just what he needed to prevent him from thinking about what she'd just said and how he felt about it. What it meant.

He gave her a meek look and, without saying anything, began to unbutton his shirt.

"Good," she said as he shrugged off both shirt and t-shirt and started to unbutton the fly of his jeans. She began to undress too, but more slowly.

"Those too." She indicated to his boxers and he obediently dropped them down and kicked them away.

He decided not to speak, waiting to see if she'd tell him he needed her permission to do that, but he glanced his eyes up and down her body in a clear request that she be naked too.

"You can take off my clothes."

House smiled. Regardless of whatever else needed to be worked out, he was going to enjoy this. And he liked this new side of Jen. Obviously dominatrix Jen had no body image issues either, because all the lights were on and he was very quickly getting her naked. For every piece of clothing he removed he stroked her skin, delighting in the goosebumps that followed in his wake.

He leant in to kiss her breast, inhaling her smell, a warm, floral, powdery scent that told him she'd showered just before coming over. She had prepared for this, he thought, this was exactly how she'd wanted the evening to play out. Despite what she'd just said, he knew she loved this side of their relationship as much as he did.

"No." Jen stepped back before his lips could touch his lips to her nipple and he looked up in surprise. "You can't have those until later." He saw the smirk she struggled to contain and was grateful that she did. If she started laughing, he would too, and the potential sexiness of their role playing would be over with.

"Kneel."

He frowned. Kneeling wasn't one of his best tricks with a wrecked thigh muscle. She led him over to the bed and positioned him so he could use it to lower himself. On his knees, he was leaning with his right side flush against the mattress, so it relieved the pressure he would otherwise have felt.

He looked up at her, standing over him and suddenly felt a little vulnerable. He knew that, even kneeling, he could probably overpower her, but it was more than physical vulnerability.

She walked right up to him and pushed her hands through his hair, tipping his head back and leaning down to kiss him with an open mouth. Her tongue sought his and he remembered that first night they'd met, when she'd told him she was no good at kissing. Either she'd been lying or he'd been a very effective teacher. His cock began to twitch.

Abruptly she pulled her lips away and stretched out her back, obviously sore from leaning down to him.

"Miss Jen, your mouth…" he began meekly, wanting to praise her kissing.

She quickly pushed a finger against his lips. "No. That's not what your mouth is for. Not for talking. Not tonight."

She stepped closer still and stretched again, sinuously. Then he began to see exactly what she had in mind for his mouth. She lifted her left leg up onto the bed, balancing herself against her raised knee and the end of the bed.

"I think you know what to do, what pleases me," she said.

Again, she nearly smiled at her corny words, but chased it away. He nodded, keeping his face serious. He was pretty sure he did know what to do. Exactly what to do. Why did this stuff come so easily and yet everything else about being with a woman was so hard?

Using his fingers he parted her with great care and then leant in to kiss her, French kissing her as if it was her mouth. He teased her and tickled her, never quite touching the nub of her desire, enjoying the mewling noises she made when he got close but then moved away again without touching it. His fingers teased her as well, running down the crack of her ass and playing around her entrance, now wet from her want and his kisses.

Her thighs began to tremble, but he knew it was more from standing and from weathering his teasing; he hadn't given her enough to make her come yet. He used the very tip of his tongue to flick a lick directly on her clit in one last, cruel tease, and then pulled back to look at her.

"Was that pleasing, Miss Jen?" he asked, trying to stay in the role.

"Not talking, remember?" she said, breathlessly. "Get up." She lowered her leg and walked a couple of steps to stretch out.

He leaned heavily on the bed and lifted himself up into a sitting position, groaning a little. His leg throbbed with the effort.

Before he caught his breath she knelt in front of him, pushed his knees apart and took his half-hard cock into her hand. She lifted it so her mouth could slip lower and lick his scrotum, taking one of his balls gently into her mouth and rolling her tongue around it.

He couldn't help his yelp of surprise – she'd never done that before. Recovering, he smiled to himself. Miss Jen had obviously been to the library.

After licking and sucking his balls thoroughly she took his shaft in her mouth, fastening her pretty mouth around him and taking him all the way in. So deep he half waited for her to gag, but it didn't happen.

She licked, sucked and pulsed her mouth around him until he groaned, at once both desperate to come and wanting the sweet torture to never end. But then she lifted her head and sat back on the floor on her haunches.

"I thought about this," she said. "All day."

"Wha…" he began.

She held a finger to her lips, reminding him not to speak. He nodded and closed his mouth.

She looked up at him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I thought about going down on you and you going down on me. I imagined it almost all day. I thought about where I'd like you to come. I thought about letting you come in my mouth, but then I thought I might pull you out just at the last minute and let you come over my breasts."

House thought the sound he made in response could pretty much be classified as a whimper. Christ, the woman wouldn't watch a porn film, but she says stuff like that?

"But then I realised I wanted you to come inside me. I love the feeling when you come, the way you twitch when you're deep in me, the warmth, holding you when it happens."

He nodded and swallowed hard, not knowing what more to do.

"Move back on the bed, lean up against the bedhead."

He did as she instructed, piling a few pillows behind himself. She straddled him, doing that trick of resting her weight so it didn't hurt him. She grabbed his hand and drew it between her legs, then pulled his head to her breasts.

Ah, so it was her turn again. That was fine too.

He went to work, stroking her firmly, this time including her clit in his touches. He bit down on one of her nipples until she gasped and then he released it, licking and sucking the hurt away.

She reached down and grasped his shaft in her hand, stroking him and rubbing her thumb over the head, spreading the moisture that beaded there.

He could tell by the way she was moving her hips that she wanted his fingers to penetrate her, but he kept moving away, not allowing her that touch. Eventually she groaned.

"More, I need more." Rising higher on her knees, she moved herself closer to him and pulled him into more of a sitting position. She positioned his cock and sank down. House groaned as he felt her hot warmth surround him. She gasped and paused for a moment before she began to move on him slowly. He remembered she'd told him he felt huge inside her when they fucked this way and the thought made him moan.

She was totally in control; the position allowed him very little movement. He ached to thrust into her, but then she started clenching her internal muscles as she rocked up and down on him. With every move her nipples brushed against his chest and he knew he wasn't going to last long at all, whether or not he could move.

"Say something," she said, her voice just this side of pleading. "Tell me something to make me come."

He was going to make a joke about finally being allowed to speak, but he could barely think straight as it was.

"Oh God, Jen…" he said while his brain struggled to catch up.

She was grinding against him, pushing her clit into him, heedless of anything except seeking her own pleasure. He squeezed her ass with one hand and pinched her nipple between thumb and forefinger with the other, delighting in her groan as he twisted it.

"Whisper in my ear," she pleaded, leaning further into him, her hair brushing over his shoulder.

He did as she asked, whispering low and gravelly into her ear, so close his lips moved against her skin as he spoke. "You're so beautiful." He took his hand from her breast and used it to brush her hair back, running his fingers through the blonde, silky curtain. "Arch your back into me. Yeah, you feel so hot. The way you're moving feels so good. I want to slam into you and you won't let me, will you? You're going to come first and then tell me when I'm allowed to. You're going to come so hard…"

"Ah!"

He stopped speaking as she cried out and he felt her muscles contract around him. She kept moving, and being inside her hot, wet passage as it squeezed around him was mind-blowing.

"Come," she commanded him between gasps, and he had no trouble obeying, his body straining with effort, feeling the spreading warmth as he exploded inside her. His climax seemed to extend her orgasm and both of them cried out, moving together to prolong their peaks. Finally, after forever, she slowed, still rocking against him until he had to put his hands on her hips to still her, his sensitivity now tipping the pleasure into pain.

Delicately she rose from him and shuddered as he slipped from her body. She fell back on the bed, still breathing heavily.

It was House who rearranged the pillows and pulled the comforter over them, House who pulled his body to hers and cuddled into her.

Without the energy to speak, both of them slept.


--

Jen woke a few hours later, around midnight, hungry because they hadn't eaten that evening. She moved to get up, but a hairy arm reached out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back down into the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To the kitchen to get food," Jen said, smiling. "I'm hungry." He hugged her to him and Jen felt that wonderful sense of the world having disappeared and it just being the two of them, in bed, loving each other.

"There isn't any."

"What do you mean? That refrigerator was full of food last week."

"Yeah, but I've been eating and you haven't been here."

"Oh." Jen's light-hearted mood began to sink. A world of just the two of them was pretend. There was a real world after all. A real world that involved supermarkets and sick fathers and dead babies and balancing everything.

He didn't seem to notice. Instead, he began stroking her, his fingers running over her breasts. She could feel his arousal begin to harden against her leg.

"You know, that was some of the best sex I've ever had," he said suggestively, leaning in to whisper in her ear again. "I don't know what you've been studying, but it definitely worked."

"I'm glad you approve," she said. She rubbed her ear against her shoulder, his whispering was ticklish, not arousing this time.

"Uh-huh." He moved back and propped himself up on one elbow to look at her. "You know what, grasshopper?" he said with a silly accent, putting a finger under her chin to make her face him. "There comes a day every teacher dreads. When the student outshines the master. Your lessons, Jen, are officially over."

"Really?" Jen wasn't quite sure why she was so pleased by the praise.

"Oh, yes." He let her go to lay back and then yawn and stretch like a satisfied cat. "That was worth every penny."

Jen felt as if someone had poured ice water down her spine.

He'd paid for it. Paid for her. Paid for her services.

"You paid off your guilt," she said quietly.

"What?"

Jen swore under her breath. How could she have let this happen? She'd let herself be seduced by him yet again. Kidded herself that the conversation they'd had in his living room meant anything. What had been resolved? What would change as a result? Nothing.

She felt sick.

"I think I'll go home." She got up and gathered her clothes from around the room, so absorbed by her emotions that she didn't even think to feel uncomfortable about walking around naked.

"What are you doing? Where are you going?" She could tell from his tone that he was hurt and confused.

"You don't get it Greg. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep coming back for more when I don't know what's going on. If this is going to be just sex, then…I can't do it. If it's going to be more than that, then I told you…I want to go back to dating, to get to know one another properly."

"Jen, we have a good thing. We get on well. We're hot in bed. You seem to be able to put up with me. And you have great breasts." He was trying to cajole her, joke her out of her decision. "Why does anything have to change?"

"If you can't see why, after everything, then I can't tell you."

The way he shifted in bed told her that he was suddenly angry.

"What kind of ridiculous thing to say is that?" he asked loudly. "I'm not a mind reader Jen. What do you want, a marriage proposal? 'Cause that's not going to happen."

Jen felt as if he'd slapped her. But she buried her hurt, determined to make a change this time.

"I think you'll find I was the one suggesting we go back to dating?" she said pointedly, feeling an awful sense of déjà vu as she donned her clothes while they exchanged angry words.

"Jen, just because there are some things I'm not ready to share with you…"

She paused in buttoning her shirt, looking at him. Perhaps he got it after all.

"…doesn't mean that we can't keep going…keep building…" He trailed off, seeming lost for words, unable to explain further.

She sat down on the bed, on the furthest corner from him, keeping herself away from temptation.

"Do you love me Greg? Because I love you. I really do, but I've been too scared to tell you, because I don't know what you'd do with that information. How you might use it."

"Use it?"

"To hurt me."

He slumped in the bed, suddenly looking defeated.

She waited, wondering if there was some kind of personal revelation about to come. But no, he just lay there, looking…well…sorry for himself.

Vowing not to cry, Jen got up and left.