"What time is it?"
House yawned and checked his watch. "Eight." He stretched out on the sofa opposite her. He'd dozed off shortly after she had and had woken about a couple of hours ago. He'd been watching TV since then.
"Eight at night?" Kitty's voice filled with shocked disbelief and she sat up. House had a moment to admire her full breasts as the blanket fell away before she remembered she was naked and she pulled it back over to cover her. Her face flushed in embarrassment.
House shook his head. "No need for that. I've seen it all now."
"I guess you have," Kitty said, giving him a shy smile. "And yet I still haven't seen most of you."
"Most of me? Oh, you mean the part inside my jeans? Yeah, I guess that would classify as most of me."
Kitty rolled her eyes.
"How's the headache?" he asked.
She frowned and seemed to do an internal assessment. "Better. I don't believe it actually worked."
"Told you," he said smugly.
"It wasn't exactly a controlled experiment. I also had more Tylenol. That could explain it."
"Oh, listen to Miss Pain Research Council, all pernickety about experiment conditions."
"You could have made my headache worse."
"Primum non nocere."
Kitty snorted. "Yeah, right. From what I've heard about your methods, the Hippocratic Oath is optional as far as you're concerned."
His reply was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.
Kitty jumped, looking at him with wide, panicked eyes. "Who is that?"
House gave her a disbelieving look as he stood up and went over to the door. "Have you never ordered take out? It's pizza." He opened the door and gave money to the bored looking delivery guy, ignoring Kitty's frantic scrambling behind him to ensure her nakedness was covered.
"I got two extra-large because I figured you'd be hungry after spending most of the day asleep. Not to mention your afternoon workout," he said, giving her a sleazy wink as he slid the pizzas onto the coffee table.
"You . . . you . . ." Kitty spluttered, holding her clothes and the blanket around her. "He could have seen!"
"Could have seen what?" House asked blithely, at the same time giving her an exaggerated leer from top to toe.
"Oh!" Kitty stood up with a frustrated growl. "You're infuriating."
"Where are you going?" House asked as Kitty headed towards the darkened corridor that led off from the living room.
"To get dressed."
"You can do that here."
"So what? You can watch?"
"Sure. Why not?" House flipped open one of the pizza boxes and lifted out a slice. "I hope you like anchovies," he said before taking a massive bite.
Kitty huffed and walked off. House smiled around his mouthful as she disappeared – in her efforts to cover her front, she'd forgotten to wrap the blanket securely around her, and her round, creamy derriere was nakedly on show, her hips swaying from side to side as she sashayed away from him. It was a wonderful contrast to the indignant expression on her face as she walked away.
By the time she returned to the living room, House had already eaten almost half a pizza. She was dressed casually in jeans and a light sweater, her hair pulled up in a ponytail that made her look young and fresh.
"What a pig!" she called, seeing how much House had already eaten.
"Get in or you'll miss out," House said. He watched as she picked up a slice of pizza and her mouth closed around it. He'd never thought of pizza eating as a particularly erotic activity, and Kitty wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, but for some reason he couldn't drag his eyes from her.
He hadn't planned to do what he'd done to her that afternoon; he'd arrived wanting to grill her about what he and Wilson had discovered in the box. He'd wanted to know more about Andrew Barnes – to understand why the man had invisibly shadowed his own life and whether the link he'd drawn to Kitty's "rescue" was right. But when he'd walked in and found her sleeping, she'd looked so sweet and soft, and the other part of his brain had taken over. He couldn't keep his hands off her – and the migraine was a convenient excuse to touch her. What he'd done had left him frustrated, but at the time he'd been okay with that. He was starting to think that his patience with that situation might not last much longer.
At least her nap had given him time to do some snooping around her apartment. He hadn't found anything particularly incriminating, but there was a large box at the top of the closet in the bedroom that was too high and too heavy for him to get down by himself with his dodgy leg. He was sure it contained clues to some of the secrets he wanted to understand. He'd found a hinged photo frame in her bedroom that held a photo of Andrew Barnes on one side and a woman he guessed must have been her mother on the other. The way it was framed told House that for Kitty, Barnes was entirely a father figure – the two pictures framed together like that screamed "parents".
Other than that he'd found the usual: birth certificate – father unknown, passport, a few photo albums, bank statements. He'd learned that she owned the apartment and her car, had a decent, although not extravagant, amount of money in the bank and had been to the UK a year ago for a couple of weeks. The earrings that Andrew Barnes had given her were in their box, shoved to the back of her lingerie drawer. House knew now that the only reason she'd worn them the night they'd gone to dinner was to intrigue – and possibly confuse – him. It told him she was smart; they'd barely known each other then and she'd already known what would pique his interest.
"Good pizza," Kitty said, reaching for another piece. "I'm starving."
"How's the headache now you're up and about?"
"All gone," she said, before taking another bite.
"It's a miracle!" House gasped in fake astonishment.
"It's not a miracle," she said through her mouthful.
House fell back against the sofa pillows dramatically, a hand on his forehead. "Oh no! I think I've got a headache." He gave her a sly wink. "If you're so sure it's not a miracle, care to add another subject to our little clinical trial?"
Kitty snorted an unladylike laugh and reached into the pizza box for another slice. She bit into it without taking her eyes from him, and House saw the blend of amusement and desire glittering there. She swallowed and smiled at him with deliberate flirtation – the kind of look that had driven him crazy when they'd gone out for dinner. It pushed his blood pressure up a notch and made things begin to stir inside his jeans.
"Don't worry. I'm well aware of my debt to you. You'll be paid," she said, her voice low.
House smiled. "Just so you understand. My services aren't on Medicaid, you know. I expect to be reimbursed for my kindness."
She shook her head and her eyes clouded over for a moment.
"What?" he asked, belatedly realising that his words must have recalled for her the arrangement Andrew Barnes had forged with her years before – that there was always a price for generosity.
Kitty breathed in deep and held it for a moment. "I just . . . I don't really understand this. Why you're here. Why you . . . Why I . . . There's so much about this that doesn't make sense. It's not right . . ." She trailed off then looked at him, her lip caught in her teeth.
House nodded. She was right – there were still a million questions running through his brain. But right now he didn't want to think about it because there were other priorities diverting blood from his thinking organ to one more . . . primitive. "Well, I figure we could torture ourselves with all of that tonight. Or we could give in to the spark that's been there between us since you got into the Mercedes and fuck like rabbits instead. We can always save the angst for another time. I'm pretty sure it'll still be there in the morning."
Kitty nodded slowly and seemed to take a moment to consider him. The desire he'd seen in her eyes earlier flared and deepened. "God, I want you," her voice was barely a whisper and instantly the vibe in the room changed. The light-hearted banter was gone and in its place was a simmering tension; House felt as if the heating had been turned up a couple of degrees.
"Really?" Despite knowing there was a shared attraction, the little boy inside of House couldn't quite bring himself to believe that a beautiful woman like Kitty would say something like that to him. And his cock pulsed in anticipation.
She walked over and stood near where he was sitting on the sofa. "I wanted to earlier, but I just couldn't manage it. You gave me an incredible orgasm, but there was something missing. I wanted to touch you." Her voice lowered even further. "I wanted you in me when I came."
House swallowed hard. "Where's the bedroom?" he asked, forgetting that thanks to his earlier reconnaissance he already knew very well where it was.
Kitty held her hand out to him.
They reached the bedroom and Kitty let go of his hand to go turn on a couple of soft lamps. In the dim light she shrugged off her jeans and pulled her sweater over her head, standing in front of him in white lace panties and bra that were both threaded with ribbons that tied in bows at the front. House couldn't resist thinking of her as a delicious present that he was going to get to unwrap.
"God, I want you," he said, echoing her earlier words.
Kitty walked over to him and as soon as she was in reach he pulled her into him, spinning around to press her against the wall behind them.
She gasped. "The wall's col—"
House stole the words from her lips, crashing his mouth to hers. There was no time for the sweet, tender kisses as he'd managed that afternoon. This was pure, raw lust and his tongue thrust into her mouth, claiming her in presage of what he planned to do to her body. He swallowed her groan as he pushed his hips into hers, leaving her in no doubt as to the state of his arousal. It was as if he'd had twelve hours of foreplay and there was no slowing things this time. No taking his time.
He felt Kitty's hands trying to find purchase between the press of their bodies and realised she was trying to take off his t-shirt. He stepped back quickly to drag it over his head before pressing back against her to reclaim her mouth.
Kitty lifted a leg and wrapped it around his thighs while her hands found his ass. She squeezed and pulled him closer, and House was aware that she was rubbing up and down against the wall, against him, and for the second time in just a few days he vaguely wondered if he was going to come in his pants.
"No," House said raggedly, pulling himself away, staggering a little before grabbing hold of her. "We're doing it properly."
"Yes," she agreed. "Now." Her voice was a plea. She grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the bed, quickly moving a few pillows and dragging the comforter down. Then she sat down and looked back at him, shifting herself back on the bed until she was lying across it sideways, resting up on her elbows. "Take off your clothes."
House had no problem obeying her direction. He quickly removed his socks, jeans and boxers, forgetting for a moment that she'd never seen his lower half naked; had never seen his scar. He looked up at her face and saw her eyes flicker over it before coming to rest on the impressive erection he had revealed. She licked her lips and let out a little sound that was almost a whimper of need. "I want," she said, her breath catching before she could continue.
"You want?" he asked, teasing her. He circled his fist around himself, running up and down the shaft a couple of times. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this hard.
His action made Kitty groan.
"Take off your panties," he said.
Kitty complied, lifting her hips to pull the white lace down and fling it over the side of the bed.
"Spread your legs." House looked up and could see that his request had made heated passion blaze in her eyes. She obeyed him, slowly parting her legs until she was revealed to him. The sight was almost enough to make him come. Her flushed face turned up to him, gazing at him, her pupils so dilated that her blue eyes were almost black. Her breasts bubbled over the white lace of her bra with every indrawn breath, erect nipples strained against the fabric, and the creamy skin of her rounded belly led down to a neatly trimmed nest of blonde curls that revealed a hot, pink, wet heaven between.
"Kitty's pussy," House said, unable to resist the quip.
"Oh, for God's sake, shut up and fuck me," Kitty moaned. She sat up suddenly and reached forward for his arm, pulling him down to the bed. House let himself fall, climbing up a little so they lay side by side, facing each other. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for another steamy kiss, her tongue meeting his, thrusting into his mouth this time in her need.
Her felt her hand wrap around him, tugging on him, pulling him into her. And then she was using his cock to rub herself, throwing one leg over his hips to open her slit to him. He could feel her moisture coating him, could feel how swollen with desire she was.
"You're so wet," he said against her mouth.
"For you," she said, and House didn't know why, but those two words were his breaking point, he couldn't put up with the teasing any longer. He began to thrust into her hand, pushing deeper between her folds, seeking her entrance. With one hand he cupped her breast, pinching a nipple between two fingers and wished he had more time. More time to kiss and touch and lick and suck every part of her body. But now there was only one thing he wanted, needed, as if his very life depended on it.
"Do I need a condom?" he asked, hoping to God she'd say no because he had no idea how he'd possibly stop to put one on.
"I don't care," Kitty gasped. "Don't stop."
And then her fingers were guiding him and he was slipping inside, not very far because the position was awkward, but enough to know that this was the best sex he'd had in years and he hadn't even come yet. He thrust, pushing himself inside a little further and Kitty gasped.
"More," he growled, unsatisfied by the shallowness of the penetration. He pushed on Kitty's shoulder and rolled on top of her, barely breaking their contact at the hips.
She bent her knees and wrapped her arms around his back as he pushed up onto his arms, lifting his torso above her. She stared up at him, her lips parted, and as he began to press inside her, her eyes fluttered closed. He pulled out a little before thrusting back in, all the way, and with a guttural moan he was finally, blissfully, buried balls-deep inside her.
Kitty cried out and her hands went to his ass, holding him still, pushing him into her, but not letting him move. "Wait," she whispered. "So full."
House realised she was asking him for time to let her body adjust to him, but he hoped it wouldn't take too long. He could feel the pressure building in his balls and with the heat and tightness of her muscles clenched around him he knew this wasn't going to take long. He began to rock gently against her, back and forward, setting up a rhythm. He knew his body was pressing against her clit, and soon enough she began moving with him, meeting him, pushing for more.
"Kitty." It was part question, part ragged plea, but mostly warning that he wasn't waiting any longer.
In answer, she raised her legs and wrapped them around his hips, sinking him deeper into her. "Now. Fuck me, Greg."
"Yes." He began driving into her in long, powerful strokes. At first he tried to be gentle, but he quickly forgot that, lost in the haze of how good she felt around him, the little groans from her each time he buried himself inside her, the slick heat of her body around his.
"So hot," he said, not even really sure what he was saying.
She was letting out little "ahs" with each thrust and they began merging into each other, longer, drawn out cries, until he felt her body begin to spasm around him. "Ah!" A sob ripped through her, her thighs tightened, and a shudder went through her body.
House did his best to keep up the rhythm, pushing blindly until he could feel the pressure expanding through his groin, the jolt of heat rushing through him and his vision blackening. "Oh, Jesus, Kitty," he yelled. He bucked into her, the force of it banging the bed against the nightstand. Once, twice, three times, he thrust into her hard enough to make her cry out with each move. He could feel his semen filling her and revelled in it; a deep, primal force, the reptilian part of his brain declaring victory, a female claimed; she was his now.
Then it was subsiding, his senses slowly returning, his muscles quivering with effort. His arms collapsed and he landed on top of her, his head cradled in the crook of her shoulder, his ragged breaths taking in her delicious scent of rose, vanilla and sex. He didn't want to leave her body, but nature took care of that for him and when he felt himself slip out of her, he realised that he was probably crushing her with his weight. He went to move off her, but her legs and arms around him gripped tighter.
"Just a little bit longer," she whispered.
He nodded against her neck. It was no hardship – he was exhausted, sated, and satisfied. If he never moved again it would fine by him.
They lay like that for a moment, the only sound their ragged breathing as they both tried to regain control.
"I think you'll have better luck catching your breath without a hundred-and-eighty-pound man lying on top of you," House said after a while, chuckling under his breath and rolling off her.
Kitty reached down to take his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers together.
They lay side by side like that for a while, still lying sideways on the bed. House's leg began to ache from the activity and when Kitty shivered from the cool night air he sat up.
"Let's switch around and pull the covers up," he suggested. He reached over to the side of the bed and grabbed his jeans, quickly finding a pill and swallowing it.
While he was doing that Kitty re-arranged the bedding and when he lay back on the pillows she pulled the comforter over them both and lay on her side to face him.
"Leg hurt, huh?" she asked, idly threading one hand through the hair on his chest.
"That was quite a workout."
"You can say that again."
"What about your heart?" House asked, curious. "Does sex give you angina?" He knew for some angina patients that was a real possibility.
"Not usually. I hardly ever get attacks. The worst that happens is I get the odd dizzy spell like in the office the other day."
"That's good." He felt her head move against his shoulder as she nodded. He trailed a finger between her breasts, tracing the white scar. "I wouldn't want to hurt your heart," he said, before realising the double meaning to his words.
Kitty gave a soft laugh. "You couldn't hurt my heart."
"Wanna bet?" House asked sarcastically, choice moments from his romantic history playing through his mind.
"I meant, not that way."
They fell silent, neither of them ready to talk about anything remotely serious yet.
"Are you still hungry?" Kitty asked, changing the subject.
"What are you thinking?"
"That second pizza – was it pepperoni?"
"Yep."
Kitty sat up and jumped out of bed, padding on her bare feet to the door. "Wanna beer too?"
"Oh my God, are you the perfect woman?"
"Maybe." She gave him a seductive smile before disappearing down the hall.
He reached down and scratched his balls. Life was good. Very good. Tomorrow might suck – in fact it probably would – but right now was good. Life had taught House to be thankful for that.