MGM owns SGA
Little ol' Des owns little to nothin'
Stargate: Atlantis
TAG TO TRIO
By Destiny Brighthope
-8-
Rodney
Show you? The fingers teasing the hem of her shirt suggested there was plenty she meant to show him.
All right, Keller. You asked for it. Hooking fingers through her belt loops, Rodney tugged her onto his lap where he could lavish kisses on her face and throat. Mindful of his injured hands, he gripped her shoulders and directed her to lie back on the mattress.
Jennifer maintained eye contact as she reclined. She crooked a finger, beckoning him to join her. He did, stretching out alongside her and leaning in for a kiss. Her lips parted, but Rodney intentionally stopped short.
Annoyance flashed in her eyes as she moved to bridge the gap. Just then he pulled away. Her indignant grunt followed him off the mattress onto the floor.
She started to rise. Rodney motioned for her to stay put, and to his surprise, she actually obeyed. He hiked up her shirt until it bunched beneath her breasts. He'd resented her haste to conceal her body in the mine. This time his eyes drank their fill.
And not of her belly only. Her entire petite frame became food for his gaze. Like a starving man, he gorged himself, mapping each freckle and blemish, committing to memory the distinct angle of her nose; the curve of her prominent cheekbones; the thin, firm line of her mouth.
Messy hair and bandaged hands could not detract from such beauty. Her lips, swollen from kissing, gave her an air of sensuality Rodney had never associated with her before. He'd always considered Jennifer cute in a girlish sort of way; now, she was breathtaking. How did I miss that?
Slowly, methodically, milking the effect for all its worth, Jennifer wet her lips. Rodney was mesmerized. He heard a peeling sound and looked down to find her pants unbuttoned and unzipped. Jennifer shrugged innocently as if to say, How did that happen?
Injuries be damned, Rodney tore the pants down her legs. He winced, paying for his haste with throbbing palms. A sympathetic hand clasped his shoulder.
"My turn," Jennifer said in a throaty whisper. She kicked off her shoes and pants before dropping to her knees beside him. She claimed the kiss he had denied her, then patted the mattress. "Up."
Grateful for the chance to save face, Rodney scrambled onto the bed. Double-knotted laces made untying his boots a chore for Jennifer. She was right; he couldn't have done it on his own.
"Do you think someone's going to steal them?" she asked.
He chuckled.
She made short work of his pants, lingering over the zipper, then rubbing him through his boxers. Rodney groaned, which clearly pleased her. He started to remove his shirt, but Jennifer halted him.
"That's my job." She stood, stripped off the shirt, and tossed it across the room.
Her own shirt had fallen into place again, and he relished the sight of her in panties and that sleeveless blue number that drove him wild. If she dressed that way while treating him, he might not begrudge her profession so much. She tugged the shirt over her head.
Even better, Rodney thought. When she reached behind her back to unhook the bra and let it fall to the floor, he thought, Better still. So long as I'm the only patient who gets the full treatment.
Jennifer raised her chin and thrust out her chest, almost daring him to say her tiny breasts weren't the most spectacular he'd ever seen. Rodney would say nothing of the sort. His hands rose on their own to cup and squeeze her twin mounds. Concerned his bandages would irritate her porcelain skin, he forced himself to stop.
Knitted brows displayed her irritation until Rodney signaled his predicament. Then a smile graced her features. Turned out, she had the perfect solution. Straddling his lap, she presented first one breast, then the other, to his eager mouth. Alternating between the two, he nursed greedily, the taste of her ripe, succulent nipples more drugging than any alcohol.
She steadied herself against his shoulders and ground her hips against him, coaxing his member to fulness. Shudders racked his body, and he whimpered, actually whimpered.
Play time was over. He needed her now. "Jennifer, do you have any—?"
"Medical bag. On the table." She squeaked in protest as he rolled her onto her back.
"I'll get them." Painfully aware of the erection tenting his boxers, he crossed the room and rifled through her bag. The box of condoms he located was still wrapped in plastic. He shot her a look. "Am I supposed to use my teeth?"
"Mmm." She sighed dreamily. "You had better."
-9-
Jennifer
Protection had been the furthest thought from her mind when Jennifer invited Rodney to her room. Among Atlantis' off-world trading partners, condoms were a much sought-after commodity. She had restocked a village clinic a few days ago and stashed a leftover box in her bag, intending to return it to the infirmary stores. It was pure luck that she hadn't.
Rodney's frustration mounted as he searched the desk for a pen, a letter opener, or anything sharp. His eyes lit upon something in her bag that made him smile. He withdrew a scalpel, waving it proudly.
"Hey," Jennifer called. "Those are for—"
"Emergencies? This is one." He sliced through the shrink-wrap, tore open the box, and removed several of the wrapped condoms. Returning to her side, he handed one over and deposited the rest on the nightstand. He shrugged. "The night is young."
Fighting a grin, Jennifer scooted to the edge of the mattress and yanked the boxers down his hips. His manhood sprung into view, proud and erect. Careful to keep her bandages away from the sensitive tip, she grasped him, enjoying the warmth and weight of him upon her fingers.
Her inner vamp wanted to throw caution to the wind—and the condom along with it—and feel that heavy warmth part her labia and plunge deep inside with no barrier to spoil their fun. The responsible physician, ever present no matter how drunk she became, objected.
She tore open the wrapper and placed the tip of the condom between her lips. Rodney groaned as she enveloped the head of his penis in the hot cavern of her mouth. Jennifer felt a delicious shiver as she imagined doing this, too, with no condom. Some day, she told herself. She rolled the latex down his shaft and gave him a little squeeze.
Rodney jerked in her hand, then released a slow controlled breath. "Close one," he mumbled.
Jennifer smiled up at him. He might not last long, but that was okay. The way she was worked up, it wouldn't take much to push her over the edge either. No more slow seduction then. Time to wow him.
She peeled off her panties and rose onto her hands and knees. Determined to be bold and unashamed, she peered over her shoulder and wiggled her rear. "C'mon, Rodney. The hottest doctor on Atlantis is yours for the taking. Whatever will you do with her?"
His weight on her bed gave her an answer. She faced forward in time to hide her goofy smile.
Strong, sure fingers probed her wetness. The squishy sound coming from Jennifer told her lover what she already knew: she was ready. When the fingers withdrew, she expected them to be replaced by his hard member. Instead, his weight abandoned her bed. She wanted to cry.
Then Rodney's warm, wet tongue swiped across her slit, and Jennifer moaned. His thumb and forefinger pinched her clit, and she bucked. His stubble-covered cheeks rubbed against her thighs, and she nearly came.
When he had her panting hard, he got into bed behind her and thrust home. Slow at first, his strokes rapidly gained speed. Hands that started out massaging her round butt cheeks followed the ridges of her spine to seize her shoulders and force her back against him. Powerful, unladylike grunts burst from her throat with each impact. She couldn't find it in herself to care.
Jennifer didn't know whether it had been too long or if Rodney was exceptionally skilled, but he was hitting—ooh—just the right spot. It felt amazing. She wanted to tell him, praise him, but with the tremors rolling through her, she wasn't confident she could string together two syllables, let alone a complete thought.
Rodney hunkered over her, supporting himself with one hand and using the other to grasp one of her swaying breasts. He teased, then tugged at the nipple. Whatever concern had motivated his earlier hands-off policy had been lost amidst the haze of lust. Jennifer heartily approved. Her deep moans were interspersed with a series of yeses and pleases. She couldn't articulate what she wanted; she only knew she wanted more. More of what he was doing to her. More of what he was making her feel. More of Rodney McKay.
He switched breasts, the move drawing him closer, almost like he was hugging her. She wailed pitifully, suddenly keenly aware of all she wanted from this man and doubtful she'd ever get it. Tears sprinkled the mattress, but she forced those emotions away and focused on the pleasure.
There was plenty to keep her focus. Her arms shook; her bones felt like jelly. So, it was no great surprise when she collapsed forward onto her chest and face. Rodney didn't miss a beat, altering his angle and continuing to plunder his willing conquest.
For the moment, Jennifer was content to lie still and accept his strokes. Aware that she was opening herself to accusations of being a passive lover, she could do little about it. Shakily, she pushed up onto her elbows.
Pausing mid-stroke, Rodney leaned over and wrapped his arms around her waist and shoulders. He straightened, and Jennifer felt herself being lifted until she sat upright atop her calves. His magic fingers once more found the hard nub of her clit, his other hand jiggled her breast, and his hips resumed their work, feeding his organ into her slick channel from below.
He was doing all the work; she had to do something. Turning her head, she found his mouth and kissed for all her worth. When they had to separate to breathe, she finally found her voice. Her pent-up feelings spilled out, and she told him how manly he was, how wonderful he was making her feel, how he was the best she'd ever had, and how she wished to make love again and again and again as often as he'd let her.
Breathing hard, he lay them on their sides. At last, Jennifer had room to maneuver. She pumped her hips frantically to meet his thrusts. Their rhythms synced and she could feel him deeper than before. She squeezed her inner muscles, and a gut-wrenching groan exploded from his throat. He clamped onto her hip to hold her still, his bandage scoring her skin, and pushed one, two, three times, and emptied himself.
His twitching member triggered a convulsive orgasm in Jennifer. Tremors shook her body and she clutched tightly at the arms wrapped around her. When she settled down, Rodney pressed a cool kiss to the back of her neck. The aftershock it triggered had Jennifer convinced she was experiencing another climax.
He eased out of her, and Jennifer rolled over to face him. The cocky grin he was sporting rivaled her own. She reached down to slick off the condom and cradle his softening member. Feeling wicked, she promised, "Next time I'll kiss it."
The big smile that covered his face put the cocky grin to shame, and a completely satisfied Rodney McKay was the last sight she saw before falling into a deep, contented slumber.
-10-
Rodney
Her mattress was firmer than he liked, her sheets more functional than luxurious, and her extra pillow lumpy. But Rodney would take Jennifer curled up beside him over silk sheets and a down comforter any day. And he didn't even miss his specialty neck pillow. Well, not too much anyway.
His petite physician was better than the boring old botanist. Maybe it was the alcohol clouding his mind, but for the moment, he couldn't remember the other woman's name. Eh, whatever. He'd think of it tomorrow. For now, he wanted to fall asleep with this precious woman in his arms.
He brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her one more time. She murmured sleepily. He checked the clock. 12:17, it read. Not a bad way to end an exhausting day. Or start a new one.
"You're something else, Jennifer," he whispered. "And I'm not letting you go. No matter how much my hands hurt."
Maybe he wouldn't have to. Jennifer's promise kept replaying in his mind. Though he naturally welcomed the offer of oral sex, what really made him smile was the implication that there would be a next time. Rodney had experienced less than his fair share of one-night stands, but he'd had enough to know that the next morning was invariably awkward. But things would be different with Jennifer. He knew it.
As far as he was concerned, the morning after couldn't come soon enough.
[tbc]
One more to go. Whew, I'm exhausted. Thanks to beta RoryFaller for enduring multiple drafts and offering plenty of constructive criticism.
Til next time, darlings,
– Des