A/N: Thank you for all the positive reviews on the last chapter. Hope this one lives up to your expectations! Smut ahead, you've been warned! Excuse all the typos and mistakes, it's late and it's been a tiring week. Well, enjoy your reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters.

I'm trying really hard not to care, she is just a stranger, after all - a stranger with awesome lips and a body shaped to perfection - but I just… I cannot not care. I thought she was interested in me, and if she wasn't, she had a funny way showing it.

I have been torturing myself with the images burned in my brain for the whole week - her laughter, the way he held her against him, the way her lips, which once seemed to be made to my own, fitting perfectly against his, but most of all, what got to me was the stare, the way her eyes pierced right into mine, like she was saying - are you watching this? Watch me kiss another man, you fool.

I guess that's just what you get for trying to be into someone.

One day, I hear Puck and Sam grumbling around the house in search for food, claiming that we were out of protein bars and Red Bulls, so I offer to go grocery shopping for us - it's going to be good for me, going out, breathing some fresh air, walking through New York can be quite comforting for me.

And as I'm reaching for some apples, I see someone drop their bags by my side, so I bend down to help them, watching some oranges rolling by my side. I get everything I can reach into my hands and get up, ready to hand all those fruits and cookies for the owner, however, I freeze in shock as I see who it is - the nameless guy Rachel was kissing at the club stands in front of me, staring at me blankly while I examine his face, just to make sure I'm not mistaken. Immediately, I shut my mouth in a tight, straight line and hand him the food, not wanting to say anything I'll regret later on; the dude frowns at my behavior and takes everything in his hands while looking at me.

"Um, thanks." He says and by his voice, he seems to be younger than me, probably nineteen or such. "You okay, man?" He asks me in concern and as I am about to reply, I see a head of bouncing, brunette hair rushing towards us both, small, skinny arms wrapping around the nameless man's waist.

"Malcom, you totally left me hanging there! Where did you- oh." Rachel is looking up at me now, a fake innocence flashing in her eyes as she leans in and kisses the guy, Malcom, on the cheek, her voice bittersweet as she speaks. "Who is your friend?"

I raise my eyebrow at her - is she going to pretend that she doesn't know me? Really? I look at her like she has grown a second head, but she seems to be very serious about her plan, considering that she is rubbing his chest with the soft palms of her hands - hands that were once wrapped around my private areas.

"Finn." I manage to speak, holding out my hand so that Malcom can shake it. "Finn Hudson. And you are…"

Malcom smiles politely as he shakes my hand, oblivious to the dark stares his girlfriend is shooting me. "Malcom Miles and this is my girlfriend, Rachel." He turns around and smiles at Rachel, whose expression changes completely under Malcom's eyes - long gone are the dark, lustful eyes that were staring at me, which were now replaced by a pair of sweet, warm eyes. She smiles at me, a fake smile.

"Pleasure to meet you, I am sure." She immediately turns to Malcom with a pout on her lips and that is when I realize how different she looks now: she has no makeup on, her body is covered by a dress that reaches just the top of her knees and has flower prints all over it, while her hair is tied on a ponytail at the top of her head. I'd dare to say she looks cute, if I didn't hate her so much.

"Honey, can we please go home? I am really tired and it's almost time for America's Next Top Model, and if you make me miss this episode, I am going to throw a hissy fit." He laughs and wraps his arm around waist while she nuzzles her nose to his neck.

"Sure, baby." He chuckles. "Thanks again, dude." He says, holding out a few oranges for me to see. I nod and watch as Rachel puts some in another plastic bag, taking his hand in hers and walking out of the grocery store, and though I might be very confused right now, I don't miss the kiss she blows me from over her shoulder when her boyfriend is not looking.

xXx

It's been two days since the last time I saw her - flirting with me while Malcom's arms were around her. What is her problem, anyway? What kind of mind game is she playing, is one man not enough for her? I shake my head and try to get rid of all these thoughts, since today is a very important day for my career - after recently finishing my book, Puck managed to set an interview with his friend, who happens to own a book publishing business and is willing to read my novel, maybe to set me up with a contract and, even though he is relatively new in the business, it's better to find someone to publish my books now before another guy writes the same type of novel and I end up being known as the "guy who copies other people's ideas".

I put on my best shirt and pants, with social shoes to go along with it and brush my hair - something I rarely do -, smiling as I see myself in the mirror - not bad. I put on the cologne my mother sent me as a Christmas gift and get ready for the interview, taking a second look at my reflection before I get ready to leave.

I press the elevator button and wait for it arriving, and as the automatic door opens, I smile as I see who is joining me today - Santana. I wave at her and shoot her a friendly smile, receiving one from her as well. We make small talk for a while before she turns around and asks to me, out of nowhere if I want to have dinner with her on Friday.

"It's just that," She tries to explain as she sees my shocked expression. "My friends invited me for a double date with them and since I didn't want to seem like a total loser, I told them it would be no problem and that I surely have someone to come with me." She rolls her eyes at her own words and sets her hands on her hips. "Now I'm two times a loser." She groans, rubbing her face with a displeased expression and I swear that, at this moment, I actually feel sorry for her - she is a nice girl, despite of her drunken behavior, and she deserves someone to go with her.

I don't know why or how the words leave my mouth, but they do before I can stop them. "I'll go with you."

She turns to me with a huge beam all over her lips. "Really?"

I nod, looking down at my feet and blushing. "Sure." I manage to say. "What time and where?"

Santana smirks, taking a pen out of her pocket and taking my rough hand in her skinny one, writing all the information on my palm with a neat, cursive calligraphy. "It'll be at eight, wear something nice. By the way, you look really hot today." She says, wiggling her eyebrows at me before she leaves the elevator, leaving me behind with a smirk.

Maybe this is good - this will be a good chance to forget all about her, about Rachel. This time, I'll let go of her completely, I can feel it.

xXx

I arrive a bit late, though Santana doesn't seem to mind, mostly because she's already on her third Martini glass. She looks nice, her body is tightly wrapped by a black, strapless dress that barely reaches the middle of her thighs, her feet are being supported by her black high-heels and her face is covered with makeup, that makes her look dangerous, desirable - not that she needs make up for that.

She lights up as she sees me, waving at me from the table and I wave back, walking towards her. I sit by her side and she kisses me on the cheek, telling me I look hot and I tell her the same, though with softer words. She asks if I want a drink and I tell her I don't drink much and that just a beer will be fine, so she calls the waitress back and tells her what to bring - some fries, a beer and a diet coke, and after Santana shoos the waitress away, we are sitting alone again.

We begin making small talk - I ask her about work, she asks me about my roommates, I ask about her hobbies and she makes a joke about it, earning a chuckle from me as well, though I'm not sure that I get it. I ask her about her friends, my mind wandering through possibilities to why haven't they arrived yet (they could've died or maybe Santana made the whole scenario up just so that she could spend some time alone with me, though the first one seems more likely than the second) and she waves her hands in the air, in a way that tells me it's not important, saying that they're probably screwing each other's brains out somewhere.

As I'm sitting in front of Santana with my back turned to the front door, I can't see who it is as she waves her hands at someone, though I'm sure it's her friends, who have just arrived. She gets up from the table and opens her smile, waiting for her friends to hug her and I get up as well, politely waiting for them all to sit and join us. I see a small girl hugging Santana tightly and as I turn around to shake the guy's hand, I freeze - it's Malcom. I shake his hand tightly with a tight smile, though my mind is crashing down on the inside and for the first time, I hope I'm wrong, I hope that maybe they've broken up and maybe this time, he's going out with someone else - but as I feared, I'm right, because Santana is being hugged by Rachel Berry, who has a bright smile on her lips as she chats with her friend, unaware of my presence.

She turns around to greet me, but as she realizes I'm the one standing in front of her, she smirks, already planning the mind games she's playing with me tonight, leaning in to shake my hand with a devilish smirk plastered on her full, pink lips.

"Look who it is, honey!" She says, smiling innocently at Malcom while her nails tease the rough skin of my hands. I shiver. "It's Flynn, from the supermarket." Her eyes are shining as she speaks, it's like she's someone else completely when she's with him. I hate it.

"It's um, Finn." I say, almost not believing what's going on. What is she doing?

She laughs softly, nothing like the way she laughed at Santana's party - she's a good actress, this one. "I apologize, Finn, my head has been in the clouds these past few days." Santana shows them where to sit while I murmur a soft it's okay and I take a seat right in front of her, in front of Rachel - great.

The waitress comes back and hands us two menus - one of each couple. Rachel is trying to peek over Malcom's shoulder while he tickles her sides, making her giggle adorably and wrap an arm around his neck while I offer Santana the menu, not feeling hungry anymore. She asks me what I want and I tell her just a hamburger would be fine, so she orders one from me - "Lots of bacon in it, too, right?" - And I thank her, though my eyes never leave the small figure sitting before me. She's so beautiful, so gracious on her feet, so evil, so perfect; she notices I'm staring and immediately, I blush, looking down at my hands, but instead of making a big deal out of it, she just smirks at me, almost like she's planning on getting to me later on.

After we order, Malcom is blabbering about his job, saying that although being a DJ can be very tiring, it's what he loves to do and that he worked hard for this - I have to take a sip of my drink not to scoff right at his face, right, he looks like such a momma's boy, with his neat hair, his expensive clothes and his new shoes, he talks like a child, he looks like a child and even acts like one; how this guy managed to get Rachel to settle down, I'll never know. However, just as Malcom begins describing what does a DJ actually do, I feel something creeping up my leg - immediately, I think of Santana trying to feel me up, but as I turn to stare at her, she's paying close attention to Malcom, her hands both visible on top of the table. I frown as I feel it once again, this time, for longer - like someone's foot is lingering on my leg, and as I feel someone staring at me, I look up and my eyes meet a pair of dark ones, Rachel's eyes are pouring into mine while her small feet tease the skin of my leg while her face is unreadable: she is staring at me with blank, yet dark eyes, her mouth twisting into a straight line, but as you examine it closer, there's a small hint of a smirk at the side of it and what kills me is that her fingers are laced through Malcom's, her head resting on his chest while her feet move against me.

Santana laughs at something Malcom said, and Rachel's leg reaches higher on my leg, finding my knee. I don't know how someone can reach this high without moving on their seat, but she's a dancer, sort of, she's used to this, isn't she?

Malcom asks me about my job and I reply, shortly, about my novels, saying I've just finished one. He says that's great and I thank him politely, biting my lip so I don't say something about his girlfriend's foot halfway up my leg, reaching for a very, very dangerous place. Rachel has piercing brown eyes and when she stares at me, it's like she's burning my whole body with a look, and her foot is being used as a weapon as she continues to torture me, slowly making her way up my body. Finally, much to my relief or despair, her feet reach a rather delicate region of mine, her toes freely teasing the forming bulge in my pants - how is she doing this without slipping out of her chair, I'll never know.

"Finn, you okay?" Santana asks from across the table with a frown on her face. Rachel's other foot joins the party, squeezing me slightly, making me let out a small whine and bury my face between my hands.

"Yeah man, you look like you really need to poop or something."

"F-ah-ine." I manage to get out. "J-just a headache."

"Oh, poor thing." Rachel's sick, sick voice calls from the other side of the table. "Maybe you should go to the bathroom and throw some water on your face." She teases, staring at me from beneath her thick eyelashes, a shadow of a smirk forming on the side of her pouty lips. I immediately catch the suggestive tone in her voice and excuse myself clumsily; leaving the table rapidly so that people won't see the huge boner I'm spotting.

I enter the bathroom and lean against the sink, breathing in and out and trying to calm down; this girl has got me going insane. There's no way I'll be able to make it go down anytime soon and I can't come back with a huge hard-on and walk through the restaurant like nothing is happening. I close my eyes and turn around to stare at myself in the mirror, letting the water run from the tap and throwing some of it on my face, breathing deeply as I feel my overheated skin cooling down.

Just as I think it's over, a pair of tiny hands creeps up my back while hot, wet lips reach for my neck, soft, wet kisses resting there. I shiver under the ministration of Rachel's skills and though I want to let go and let her do whatever she's planning with me, I gather the rest of the pride I still have and face her, breathing hard while I try to keep my voice steady and straight.

"J-just what do you think you're doing?!" I ask, my voice husky as I speak. She smirks, playing with one of her brunette curls innocently and pouting.

"Having fun?" She asks with a smirk, biting her lower lip and walking closer to me, though she does it slowly, I can feel the space between us becoming smaller by the second. "Dinner is boring, anyways." She shrugs nonchalantly, her chest pressed to mine now. Rachel's manicured nails ran up and down my chest, teasing my nipples through the fabric of my shirt and making me stir in my pants again.

Damn her.

"Oh, hello there." She smirks, instantly reaching for the bulge in my pants, cupping me through the rough fabric and making me buck into her hand, a small whine leaving my throat. "You seem happy to see me."

"Ra-Rachel, wha- what we're doing here... It's wrong." My eyes shut close and my face in pinched in a pained/pleasured expression. "S-so good, b-but wrong. Mal-Malcom..."

"Is a great guy and treats me like a queen." She smirks. "But," She gets on her toes and whispers into my ear. "He isn't very good at... Pleasing me." She grips the bulge a little harder, rubbing it up and down teasingly while I grip the sink by my side, my knees have failed me already. "He is in college, Finn. Do you know who thinks that college guys are hot? College girls." She rolls her eyes while kissing my neck slowly, her tongue making its presence very well known on my skin. "I need a good fuck every once in a while," I whimper as she giggles huskily in my ear. "And I know that you can provide me that."

"W-why a-hhh-are you with him?" I manage to ask, though my mind is already melting away and I can barely remember my name.
She stares at me for a moment. "Being with Malcom is safe..." She comes back to working on my neck, nibbling her way up my earlobe.

"Being with you is dangerous. Stop talking about Malcom right now, or else I'll let him be the one to take care of me." As I analyze her words, I take her by the wrist and press her against the nearest bathroom stall.

"The fuck he will." I spit through my teeth, letting the animalistic desire wash over my body; I just don't have any more strength to deny her - I need her, I need to have her, right here, in this bathroom stall, and fuck the rest. I press my mouth to hers in a passionate, rough kiss, my tongue forcing its way into her mouth, making her whimper while she clings onto me, her smooth legs wrapped around my torso while I hold her against the wall.

I make a wet path of kisses and licks down her neck to her chest, sucking on the exposed bits of her skin in a way that it'll make her whimper, but won't mark her, so that he won't know of my presence there; roughly, I support her against me with one hand while the other tugs the cleavage of her dress down, moaning as I see that she isn't wearing a bra.

"You're so fucking hot." I growl before leaning in and taking her exposed nipple into my mouth, wetting it with saliva and making it turn red from all the blood pumping there. She whimpers and runs her fingers on my hair, tugging on it harshly and bucking against me.

"Fuck me, Finn." She whines. "N-no time for this, fuck me now."

Though I'm not sure how, in a matter of seconds, my pants are down my ankles and I'm pulling her panties down, my cock pulsating and twitching for her. She looks beautiful, like a goddess - her lips swollen and red, her breathing harsh and swallow and her eyes dark, searching for me. I ask her about a condom and she tells me she's on the pill and that's all I need, sliding into her with no further warning, making her cry out and dig her red nails into my back along with her calves while I penetrate her again and again, hard and fast, her back hitting against the stall repeatedly, making it bounce with the force of our love making - but why call it that, when that is obviously not what we're doing - we're fucking, fucking like animals in heat.

She is whimpering, her mouth hanging open, her pussy wet and clenching around my cock while I slip into her easily, my low moans making shivers form on her skin, I can smell the sex in here, the sweat, the need and I don't care, I just pound into her harder, faster, just like she wants me, just like she's begging me to do it. I can feel the sweat dripping down my eyebrows and my neck, I feel her nails marking my back even through my shirt and it hurts, but I want it, we can't stop now - I wouldn't dream of stopping, really.

She asks me, no, begs for me to touch her and immediately, I get the message, reaching for her swollen clit with my thumb, rubbing it up and down and in tight circles, making the pressure run through her whole body, loud moans leaving her mouth. I tell her to shut up, we can't get caught, but she just whines that it feels too good, oh Finn, it's too good! And so I fuck her harder, this time placing my mouth over hers, tangling our tongues together so that she won't get louder. She whines, whimpers, begs and cries for me, telling me to help her come, make me come, Finn, make me come, yes, please, I need it and I need her too, so without any other words, I slide into her as I touch her clit, marking a rhythm and that seems to get her to clench around me, finally reaching her peek; she is tight, wet and clenching, her orgasm dripping down my cock and I can't stand it either, so I come inside of her, fuck, Rachel, ohhh, with her milking me until my last drop leaves my member.

As the aftershocks go by, she slides away from me, dropping my soft member out of her and adjusts her dress, reaching for a piece of toilet paper and cleaning herself, handing one for me as well. We're silent, strangers, and before I can speak, she walks through the door, leaving me there, alone and confused.

xXx

As I arrive back at the table, I see Rachel chatting rapidly with Malcom, while Santana watches her with a bored expression, sipping on her drink.

"So it turns out that there was something wrong with my salad, and that's why I spent so much time in the bathroom! I had to throw it all up. My stomach hurts a lot, too." She pouts, nearly the picture of innocence, but I know better. I sit by Santana and smile tightly, sighing in relief as I realize that no one seems to know about mine and Rachel's um, encounter, in the bathroom.

Malcom runs a hand up and down his back smoothly, comforting her. "It's okay Rachie," I think I'm going to be sick. "We'll drive you home, okay? C'mon." He leans in and tries to kiss her, but her hand instantly flies to her mouth, her eyes wide.

"No!" She screeches, probably because her mouth still tastes like mine and we wouldn't want that. "B-bad breath, remember? Just threw up." She giggles nervously.

"Um, right." Malcom nods, getting up and throwing some money at the table, exchanging looks with Santana. "Well, I better get going! Rachel needs to feel her best for her performances tomorrow, right Tana?" He chuckles and the Latina winks back.

"You betcha!" She grins. "Take care, kiddo."

Rachel nods, pretending to pout, resting her hand on her stomach. "I will, thanks Tana." She sighs. "Bye! Bye, Finn." She turns to me and gives me a strong, meaningful look, though I'm not sure what she wants to tell me through it. She mouths something to me but I don't catch her words and before I can ask her what's wrong, she's already being dragged away by a very talkative and worried Malcom, who leads her to the front door.

After the golden couple leaves, Santana gets up from her seat and excuses herself, telling me she has to use the ladies room. I tell her its fine and brush it off; the waiter comes and asks if I want anything else, so I tell him that just the bill would be fine and even though Santana is not back yet, the bill is already resting on the table. It's funny how these restaurants can be slow when it comes to the food, but the bill, they bring in seconds.

I check the bill and put some money on the table, hoping that it covers for everything I've eaten for the night. As I hand the waiter the money, he grabs something in his pocket and hands it to me. I frown.

"What's this?" I ask, examining the paper - it's white and has a neat handwriting on it.

"A young lady left you this note, sir, right before she left." The waiter informs me with a slight grin on his face.

I examine the piece of paper while talking to the waiter. "The Latina? She hasn't left yet, I-"

"No, no." He waves his hands in the air. "The one who left with the young man." He raises a suggestive eyebrow at me, almost like he knows what happened in the bathroom between Rachel and I, making me blush deeply.

I read the well written words, biting my lip, trying to hold back a smile. The words "Call me! Xo, Rach." are written along with a cellphone number.

I turn to the waiter and gulp deeply. "A-anything else?"

The waiter shakes his head with a grin, turning around and getting ready to leave, but before he does so, he turns back and snaps his fingers.

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot!" He says. "She said that if she feels sick again, she'll be sure to ask you for help." And with that, he leaves.

I see Santana returning to the table and sitting in front of me with a slight smile on her lips. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" She asks while running her eyes on the bill.

"Oh, no." I smirk. "That wasn't bad at all."

A/N: Hope you liked the smut and the chapter. Fun fact: Malcom was actually supposed to be Brody, but since I've hated him from the beginning – oh, like you haven't, either – I decided to use someone else. Poor Malcom isn't going to know what hit him. Review!