Chapter 4

"Tomorrow I am hanging out in my underwear all day and burping and scratching and bossing you around," House groused the following Saturday night.

"You're still a man, House," Cuddy chided. She was reclined on the couch with her feet in his lap. He was painting her toenails while Rachel straddled Cuddy's belly and got her fingernails painted by her mom.

"Cuddy, I feel my balls shrinking as we speak," House replied.

"Too bad," Cuddy commented without looking up. "Rachel and I need a manly escort to the park tomorrow."

House paused, then caught himself. "What for?"

"Apparently there's some guy harassing the mothers and stealing purses," she explained, furrowing her brow as she carefully painted Rachel's pinky nail. "There are flyers posted in the park."

"Don't worry," House said, "You're a pretty tough chick. No one's gonna mess with you."

"I'm not worried," Cuddy reassured him. "He's got a bum leg, so I could probably take him." House stopped painting and looked up at Cuddy, trying to keep his expression blank. Cuddy didn't meet his eyes but couldn't stop the smirk from spreading across her face. "Apparently," she continued, "He has a cane and rides a motorcycle."

Silence.

House turned back to her feet. "Sounds like a pretty bad-ass guy," he observed. Cuddy laughed in spite of herself.

"Yeah, maybe I should be more alarmed," she agreed. She started blowing on Rachel's nails, keeping her there in spite of the child's belief that once the paint was on, it was playtime.

House finished and looked at Cuddy as he screwed the cap back on. "How'd you get so good at blowin'?" Cuddy just gave him the evil eye. He leaned forward and grabbed his video game controller and unpaused his game.

"I told you not to play this stuff when Rachel is around," Cuddy scolded as Rachel craned her neck to watch the animated decimation of grotesque creatures.

"She's about to go to bed," House replied in his absorbed-in-the-game monotone.

"Exactly!" Cuddy exclaimed between puffs on Rachel's nails. "So just wait ten minutes."

"That's not what I want to do when Rachel is in bed," House replied, still looking at the television but arching an eyebrow in suggestion. Cuddy sighed and swung Rachel to the floor, carefully swiveling her toes out of House's lap and standing up.

"Come on, Rach. Bedtime," she announced.

Rachel stood and walked over to House, holding her nails out for display in front of him. "Look, House," she ordered.

House paused the game and looked down at her nails. "Gorgeous," he assessed and Rachel beamed. "Your mom does such a good job. Tell her she should paint her own toes." Rachel just blinked at him, still smiling.

"Let's go, sugar," Cuddy said, scooping Rachel up and padding down the hall. House continued his game while he heard Cuddy getting Rachel changed and washed up for bed. He was making some good progress when something soft hit him in the face and fell to his lap. He looked down at Cuddy's wrinkled shirt. He looked up to catch just a glimpse of her bare back disappearing down the hall.

Game paused.

House walked to the bedroom, taking care to stretch out his leg that was cramped from too much sitting, and walked in to find a half-naked Cuddy lying on the bed. "Want me to help you feel like a man again?" she joked.

House eagerly clambered on top of her.

"Watch my toes!" she warned.

"I'll repaint them," he assured her, burying his face in her neck. Cuddy smiled at the ceiling as she curled up a little from the tickling of his beard on her skin. She fumbled around, trying to unbutton his shirt. House pushed up on one arm and reached back to the collar of his shirt with his other hand, pulling it over his head and efficiently removing his arms. Cuddy felt his bare chest against hers and sighed contentedly. House took his hands and swept her hair back, holding her face and looking at her.

"Are you mad?" he asked with a half-grin.

"About what?" Cuddy asked, her smile being replaced with a suspicious look.

"About the park."

Cuddy grinned again. "No!" she assured. "I know you don't like going to the park. I just thought if you'd come tomorrow maybe you and this creep could have a bike race and cane fight or something. Like a biathlon." She smirked up at him. He kissed the tip of her nose. "Anyway, I know why you really did it."

"Why's that?" he asked, kissing down her chest to her breasts. Cuddy moved her hands to the back of his head.

"Because now I can never nag you to go to the park with us again."

"You got me nailed, woman," he said, just before his tongue moved across her nipple silenced the snarking and causing Cuddy to arch up and close her eyes, forgetting the entire conversation. House slid his hand up her thigh, pulling her leg around his hip and sliding his hand back to her ass, sneaking up the back of her shorts. Cuddy's hand moved maniacally around his head, neck, shoulders, and back. She wanted him everywhere at once. House's mouth on her breast was driving her insane, but she wanted to kiss him, wanted to taste him, wanted his mouth everywhere else too.

"God, House," she half-sighed, half-moaned. House moved back up her neck, kissing her chin, then her mouth, his tongue parting her lips. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, so she lay on top of him. Their eyes met under the canopy of her hair surrounding their faces and House gently bit her bottom lip, then used his jaw to urge her head back so he could kiss down her chin and neck again. His hands slid slowly down her back, taking in the softness of her skin. He hooked his thumbs into her waistband and pulled her shorts down her hips. Cuddy lifted her pelvis and assisted, wiggling them down her legs so that she was naked on top of him. Then she bent her knees and sat up, straddling him, whipping her hair back from her face. He looked at her, up and down her body, with such appreciation it made her blush a little.

"God, Cuddy," he echoed, his hands resting on her pelvis as his thumbs slid up and down her hipbones. He locked eyes with her and smiled his little half smile and she had to look away – the deep blue intensity of that look overwhelming her. She looked down at her hands, undoing his jeans so she could slide them down his legs. She gently smacked his side, prompting him to lift his hips so she could take his pants off, and he used the gesture to push her hips down, pushing himself up against her before she could even finish the job. Her head spun and she quickly placed her hands against his chest, steadying herself. This was going so good, so fast; her blood and breathing weren't keeping up.

House somehow kicked and wormed his jeans off, and only his boxers were separating them. Cuddy bent and lay across his chest, her lips against his cheek, trying to chill out for a second. The hot puffs of breath across his face made House almost want to make her faint – he loved when she was as hot for him as this, fighting the urge to just get at it the way he fought it every time he was in the same room with her. He had one arm hooked under hers and bent it to hold her head against him. With his other hand, he quickly shimmied his underwear down and then grabbed her waist, guiding her against him. He turned his head to face her, eyes glassy, lips parted, never more gorgeous. He moved his lips slowly along hers as he guided himself inside of her. A tiny whimper came from her throat, then she pushed down, meeting his slow, intentional thrusts up into her. He moved his fingers in her hair, clenching and unclenching them, just to feel more of her. His other hand skated up and down her side, her ass, her thigh. They moved like that, slowly and torturously, until Cuddy couldn't take it anymore.

"House," she murmured against his lips.

"Hmm?"

"You need to fuck me now or I'm going to tell everyone you did my pedicure," she whispered, panting a little.

"If you do that," he retorted quietly, "I'll make sure to meet you and Rachel at the park tomorrow." Cuddy smiled under closed eyes. "I'll ride up on my motorcycle and hobble over to you with my cane," he continued, gently rolling her over onto her back, "And I'll lay a big wet one on ya." Cuddy hung her arms around his neck, waiting, dying for the next level of this. "No need for the empty threats, Cuddy."

"Okay, okay. Then just… you need to fuck me now."

House nodded, satisfied. "Perfect. Much less belligerent." He kissed her and she wrapped both legs around his waist. House rocked his hips against hers, feeling her more deeply, which was making his head start to spin. He slid his hands up her arms and gently pushed her hands above her head, then assaulted her lips with his own. Their fingers intertwined and Cuddy felt that erotic sensation that only House had ever given her – the hotness of relinquishing control to someone who she knew would hand it right back if necessary. His chest pushed against hers, his face – half-drunk with lust – was all she could see. She felt his breath, smelled his skin, and sensed his body against every inch of hers.

House felt Cuddy's heels press into his back as she lifted her pelvis, guiding him deeper inside of her. He felt her all around him, smelled her hair and her lip gloss – even her sweat smelled awesome. He felt her body starting to bear down, her thighs squeezing against his hips, her soft layers clamping around him, and he disentangled their hands to sit up and hold her hips. He wanted to make it awesome for her and he wanted to watch.

Cuddy's eyes squeezed shut and her expression alternated between ecstasy and agony as she teetered on the edge. She was mind-blowingly beautiful. Her hands gripped the sheets. Her head sank back further, displaying her neck. House stared at her face as her mouth went from biting her bottom lip to gaping open, her eyebrows knitting together as she was rocked by her orgasm. He was holding her body in his hands, feeling it tremble, and trying to wrap his mind around her perfection when "House" emerged in this quiet, high-pitched whine from her lips.

He was done for.

House bent his head, almost reverently, and closed his eyes as he felt himself lose control. His breathing was erratic and his movements into her became frenzied. He couldn't resist this feeling, anymore than he could resist this woman. He felt her body around him, heard her continue to say his name, and saw stars behind his eyelids.

Neither of them could even take a guess how long it had lasted – a minute, an hour? Their pleasure had blended together and blurred time into a stream of sensation and emotion. But eventually, they stilled and House curled down over her, resting his forehead on her stomach, noting the ebb and flow of her breath, while she played with the hair on the back of his neck.

"Thanks," he mumbled into her belly.

Cuddy smiled, still with her eyes half-closed. "Have your balls returned to their manly size?" she murmured.

House snickered and crawled back up her body, flopping on his stomach next to her and splaying and arm and leg across her possessively. "I can't feel anything below my waist at the moment, but I'll keep you posted," he answered. "If not, we can just keep doing that until my manhood has been fully restored."

Cuddy turned to look at his face, relaxed and happy next to her. His eyes were closed and she studied every bend of his jaw and brow, the tiny veins of his eyelids, every gray and brown whisker. Could you love a whisker? Was that possible?

"Stop staring at me Cuddy," House ordered without opening his eyes. She responded by continuing to stare and putting hand against his cheek, feeling his warm roughness.

"Thanks for being a park weirdo for me," she said. He grinned a sleepy smile.

"I have no idea what you are referring to. I am far too busy saving lives to spend time in a park." Cuddy kissed him softly on his lips. "Tell me if you or Rachel get harassed again," he told her.

"Greg House, you're my hero," Cuddy sang in a teasing voice. House made a production of sighing an exaggerated happy sigh of relief. "What was that about?" Cuddy asked.

House grinned. "I just got my balls back."