Hi everyone!
thank you so much for the kind reviews! :-) I'm still on vacation and each time I get the chance to connect, finding your comments makes my day.

** CHAPTER 8 **

They remained still for a moment, curled up in each other's embrace, their forehead resting on each other's shoulder, as they quietly basked in the afterglow of their passionate outburst. House was gently caressing her back when he felt her slightly shiver in his arms.

"Wow!" he said, chuckling. "I really am that good!"

Cuddy smacked him playfully on the side of his arm. "Don't praise yourself," she scolded, with a giggle. "I'm just cold!"

He let out a throaty laugh.

"Sure, you are," he acquiesced, his playful tone clearly implying the opposite.

She smiled, but the truth was she actually felt a little bit chilly, and it had nothing to do with her orgasmic high.

"Try lying naked on that frosty piano and we'll see if you're not cold," she said, sulkily.

House gently freed himself from their embrace, and held her chin up to study her face, amused. She pouted, and conspicuously shuddered.

"Come here," he said holding her by the waist and helping her hop off of the piano.

When her feet landed on the floor, she toppled forward and her body aligned with his, and she instantly noticed the sudden surge of renewed desire that the friction gave him. Locking eyes with him, she smiled knowingly at him, undeniably filled with a similar longing. As an answer, he came closer to her and placed his hands behind her back to unzip her skirt. She swiftly got rid of it, impatiently wriggling her butt to make it slide along her legs. Bending down, she started taking off her stockings next but when House registered what she was doing, he promptly grabbed her hand and moved it away from her leg.

"Don't you dare take these off!" he protested hoarsely.

Cuddy smiled coyly, relishing the power she felt she indisputably had over him in that instant. She possessively cupped his ass cheeks in her hands and firmly pressed her naked body against his.

"Fine, but my pick now," she said, tilting her face up and flashing him a flirtatious look.

House gaped, and his eyebrows arched in surprise, but the truth is it was her assertiveness that impressed him the most and he knew, right then, that he wouldn't be able to resist her command. He didn't want to, anyway.

In spite of all the fantasies he'd had about her over the years, and the night they'd shared a long time ago, he could only guess that she would become that kind of woman, so sexually confident and at ease with her body. God, did he like that about her! House felt enthralled, won over, and totally trapped under her spell.

"Name your spot!" he said, more than ready for the next ride already.

"Sofa," she breathed out, promptly pulling him in its direction.

They practically waltzed toward the couch, dangerously staggering at each step, but they were incapable of letting go of each other's embrace. Despite his aching leg, which was starting to make him pay back for his reckless standing-against-the-piano sexcapade, House held her tight and remained steady on his two feet until they made it to the sofa.

Wasting no time, Cuddy put her palms on his chest and pushed him backward onto the couch eagerly. House leaned against the backrest and docilely waited for her next move. But she stood tantalizingly above him, totally naked, except for her pair of black stockings, staring down at him with a naughty smile. She'd turned the tables on him and was making the most of it, pretending to hesitate about what she would do next, and testing the limits of his arousal. Unable to deal with the torturous wait she made him endure, House sat up straight, grabbed her hand and unceremoniously yanked her forward. She toppled and fell into his arms and put one knee on the couch next to his thigh.

"Stop torturing me, you witch!" he groaned.

He seized her hips and tried to position her body on top of him so she would straddle him. Cuddy resisted and pushed him backward against the backrest. Smiling playfully, he rested his hands on her thighs, just at the hem of her stockings, and caressed the lace with his fingertips.

She tutted and frowned at him. "You're not allowed to do that!"

"Oh yes, I am! You cannot wear these and expect me to just sit there and do nothing," House said, his eyes hooded with lust.

"Watch me," she teased, as she removed his hands from her thighs.

His mouth dropped open and he stared at her, half amazed by her sassiness, half really turned-on by her game.

"Oh really, and why is that?" he asked, amused.

"Because I said so."

"No. You only said you'd pick your spot, not that-"

"Shut up," she ordered, smiling. "I'm your boss. I'm making the rules."

His eyes widened in pure wonderment.

"Role-playing, on the first night? Oh my, I must've died and gone to heaven," he chuckled, grabbing her hips, and pulling her down to him again.

She slapped him on the shoulder, and he held his hands up in the air in surrender.

"Okay, okay! Anything you want is totally fine by me," House said, beaming. "Like I always say: Never mess with the boss!"

"You never say that!" she said, rolling her eyes.

"Maybe," he admitted. "But believe me, sometimes I really do think that. Like I do right now-"

She looked at him tenderly and leaned down to kiss him.

"You talk too much," she told him between kisses. "Shut up and just enjoy my rules..."

She placed her hands on his shoulders and gently motioned him to lie down on the couch. House complied and instinctively took his injured leg inside his hands to alleviate the effort of lifting his dead muscle. She felt the immediate need to help him get comfortable and gently moved his hands away to take care of it herself. Afraid that he might think her gesture was motivated by a feeling of pity while it was, in fact, nothing but genuine tenderness, she glanced up at him with apprehension, but House smiled at her with fondness.

Relieved, Cuddy smiled back and positioned herself on top of him, leaning over his torso to kiss her way around his nipples, sometimes just brushing her cheeks against his silky salt and pepper chest hair. An appreciative moan escaped his lips and she trailed down lower using her hands to prop herself up above his body. She reached his belly button and tickled it with the tip of her tongue, her hands leisurely stroking his thighs. Her fingers brushed the hole in his scarred skin and House hissed, his body involuntarily tensing up under her touch. Cuddy froze and removed her hand from his injured leg.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked, looking up at him with concern.

He stared at her with a sorry gaze and held out his hand to caress the side of her cheek with his fingertips.

"No," he simply stated, his voice low. "Keep going."

Not so subtly, he cupped the back of her skull with his hand and applied a slight pressure to guide her lower. She glared at him in mock indignation and he smiled unapologetically in return.

"Please?" he added, with a boyish grin.

She rolled her eyes, pretending to be upset for a second but it was pointless to try and fool herself when the truth is she was craving that moment just as much as he was. With her head down, she smiled to herself and leaned down to his groin.

Still, she deliberately took her time and continued to kiss him, on his hipbone, above his pubic hair, rubbing her nose against his skin but never touching his manhood with her lips. House groaned his frustration and she laughed victoriously when she saw him unconsciously thrust up, his hips bucking up impatiently.

"You're a cruel, cruel woman," he protested, with an unmistakable teasing edge to his tone.

"Really?" she said, just as she wrapped her hands around his erection, looking up at him with an innocent pout.

He caressed her face and a glimpse of melancholy passed behind his eyes as he intensely stared back at her.

"I don't know," he whispered hoarsely with disarming honesty.

The sincerity of his confession overwhelmed her, and, right then, Cuddy realized she didn't want to play anymore. It wasn't a game, after all. She'd never intended it to be one and, more than anything, she wanted him to know that as well. She covered his hand with hers and slid it away from her face before lowering herself down toward his erection again. She curled her lips around the tip and eased his length into her mouth, eliciting a voluptuous, almost relieved sigh from him.

She could taste her and his previous orgasm on his silky skin and it intoxicated her. She licked the head and ran her tongue along the course of his veins, then she hollowed her cheeks and started sucking his length languorously, stroking it against the roof of her mouth, until she could feel it swell on her lips. Before House could reach his climax, she stopped and promptly straightened up to climb her way back on top of him. House groaned his disapproval, but she straddled him and reached out for his shaft, positioning the head between her folds.

All trace of protestation quickly disappeared from his face as soon as she lowered herself onto him and he was sheathed deep inside her core again. He placed his hands on her hips and she leaned down, cradling his face in her palms, and claiming his mouth with a sensual kiss. He thrust upward to penetrate her deeper and she gasped parting from his lips to sit up straight, arching her back forward and offering her curves to his caresses.

He cupped her breasts and captured the tip of her erect nipples between his thumb and index fingers, pinching hard enough to send jolts of pleasuring pain through her body. She squealed and tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering closed, as she selfishly turned her focus inward for a while, just welcoming the lustful sensation inside her. She lay her hands flat on his chest and started swaying her hips back and forth, slowly, alternatively moving her pelvis up and down, setting a heady rhythm for their love dance and controlling the power of his thrusts and the depth of his penetration exactly how she needed them to be to make her pleasure increase gradually, until low moans started to escape her lips.

She felt the need to speed up her pace then, and she began to move her hips in round motions, rubbing his groin with her movements and creating the perfect friction to stimulate her clit. House firmly clasped her waist and followed her pendulum, feeling the orgasm pervade him, too. His breathing became shallower, and she opened her eyes to look at him. House was staring at her with a piercing gaze and she sucked in a sharp breath, shaken by the intensity of his eyes on her. His grip tightened around her waist, as if he were trying to imprison her in his embrace and keep her joined with him forever.

Drawn to him, she dived to his face and kissed him demandingly, sucking the pulp of his lips into her mouth. He cupped the back of her skull with his hand and combed her hair with his fingers. She broke away from their kiss and buried her face in his neck, rubbing her nose along the shell of his ear.

"What are you doing to me?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

His words instantly triggered a pleasuring spasm in her womb, and she almost climaxed right there and then at the sound of them.

"Are you close?" she panted, trying to catch her breath.

"I can hold it back, but not for long" he confessed.

"Me neither," she told him.

She'd implicitly given him the signal to let go and so he did. Digging his fingernails into her flesh, he gripped her tightly and began to thrust upward into her harder, making her bounce up and down above him. She held on to his shoulders, and threw her head back, biting her bottom lip to stifle a cry.

"Yes, come for me, Cuddy. Just like that," he coaxed.

The confident male inflection in his voice was her undoing. She arched back and her thighs started to tremble. Without a warning, he promptly sat up straight and welcomed her in his arms just as the shivering waves of orgasm took hold of them both. They came loudly, and in perfect sync. Little jolts of shivers shook her body and she tensed up, froze, then relaxed, and finally, she collapsed in his arms and snuggled up against his chest. Ecstatic himself, not daring to say a word, House held her in silent, inhaling her smell and gently caressing her shoulder blades.

After a while, he pulled himself out of her, guiding her back on his lap where she more than happily settled down, feeling too unsteady to move. House studied her face, to print the image in his memory: The gorgeous Lisa Cuddy, naked on top of him, and radiating sex afterglow. She looked at him groggily, a blissful smile drawn on her swollen lips. She looked so fragile and strong at the same time, her beautiful eyes sparkling, tiny beads of sweat rolling down her body, from her neck to her round breasts, and down to her midriff, and lower down underneath her belly button…

In that perfect time-suspended moment, as he was staring at her, holding her naked body close to his, the thought that there was more than a good chance he could become inescapably infatuated with her hit him full force. More than that, she had the power to become an addiction, more dangerous than any of the ones he had experienced before. He didn't quite expect the sensation to be so strong, and even less so sudden. He felt a pang tug at his heartstrings and, not really used to dealing with such violent emotions, he quickly averted his eyes and looked away. Hoping that it would freeze the moment in time, he simply squeezed her tighter against him, and laid a soft kiss on the round shape of her shoulder

# # # # #

Cuddy felt overwhelmed by a stream of powerful emotions, too. She was a little dizzy because of all the energy the two orgasms had taken out of her, even though it was a perfectly delightful dizziness. House held her in his arms and squeezed her tight against his chest and she felt absolutely fulfilled. He'd been gentle and tender to her and right after their shared high, she didn't fail to notice the way he so longingly stared at her with an intense gaze, the sensation blissfully hitting her deep within her. Time stopped and for a moment she sensed she was right where she belonged, in a place where nothing other than the here and now mattered.

And yet, knowing House like she thought she did, she felt a bit puzzled, without being able to tell why. Even more so when, for no reason, at least none she could explain, he suddenly turned his gaze away from her, retreating in a place in his mind where she didn't feel welcomed. It was as if he had left the room and her, alone. She wished she knew what his thoughts were but, he still remained a mystery to her, even after the intimate moment they'd just shared.

Although desperately feeling the need to cuddle up against his sweaty, naked body and let herself drift off in his warm embrace, she couldn't repress the urge to process the whole event, starting back from the beginning of that night, when he had opened the door to her. Why had they fought? Why was it so hard for him to open up? And why had she stayed anyway, despite his cruel manner and the way he'd made her feel like he wanted her out of his apartment? What was it that she really wanted? Was staying the right choice?

They just had sex. Twice. And it'd felt so damn special and amazing. It was like they'd been doing that together forever. But what if it was just a physical connection between a man and a woman who knew what they wanted and knew how to get it? Was there something else?

Now, they were sitting naked on his sofa, enfolded in each other's arms, and suddenly, Cuddy could hear the silence. An awkward and terrifying silence, so heavy she had an out of the body experience and felt herself float in the room, above their joined bodies, witnessing the scene. She felt paralyzed. Paralyzed and self-conscious.

House moved his hips underneath her thighs, and she was jolted awake from her moment of reverie. She looked down at him and he smiled at her fondly. Gently taking her by the shoulders, he motioned her to the side, and she lifted herself up to allow him to move away from her. Sitting on the couch, she watched him stand up. She felt suddenly so aware of her nudity that she shrank and curled into a ball, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Cold?" he asked.

She nodded to avoid having to lie and confess that it was just an unexpected and cumbersome moment of uneasiness. Without a word, House nodded back and walked away from her. A few steps away from the sofa, he mechanically stooped down to pick up his cane. Next to the piano, he found his boxer shorts lying on the floor. He reached down for them, put them back on and walked to the closet to retrieve a blanket. Back to the couch, he handed it to her so she could wrap herself in. Cuddy took it and quickly curled herself up inside the soft cloth. Watching her with an undecipherable gaze, House waited until she was done and leaned down to lay a soft kiss on her lips.

"Don't fall asleep," he said. "I'll be right back."

He limped out of the living room and down the hallway. A few moments later, Cuddy heard the sound of flowing water coming from the bathroom. She felt a twinge of sorrow, for no rational reason, as she read that sound as the sign that House was probably taking a shower and she felt bereft and confused to have been left alone without an explanation.

# # # # #

In his bathroom, House opened the tub's faucets and shut the plug to run a bath. Hot steam soon invaded the air, warming up the room. While the water was flowing and filling the tub, he rummaged in his drawers in search of some bath salts but, after a loud, fruitless search, he slammed them shut with a heavy sigh. He looked up and stared at his reflection in the mirror. It was mist-steamed, but he noticed it, nonetheless. He wiped the surface with his hand to clear the steam and bent over closer to the mirror.

There he was, with a smile on his face. He forcefully rubbed his cheeks to erase the unusual image from his features. But when he pulled his hands off, it was still there, and surprisingly, it made his smile grow wider. Yet, when he thought about it, what was there to be delighted about?

Was it the fact that as soon as he had seen her at his door, he'd felt a rush of emotions mess up his mind? Or maybe, that he'd just had fucking good sex? Or that when he'd seen her shiver on his couch, he'd instantly thought about running a hot bath for her? Or that he'd just really looked into his bathroom drawers to find some scented bath salts just to please her? Because out of nowhere, he'd thought she would enjoy it.

Maybe it was because of the pain in his leg, that he'd been surprisingly able to bear, without it obsessing him like it usually did, the moment she'd showed up at his door. Or it was just because, as he was looking at the hot steamy water approach the rim of the tub, all sorts of naughty thoughts of what they could do in that bath started popping up in his mind?

House took a deep breath and the smile suddenly faded on his face. Happiness or something resembling it? He was so not used to the feeling anymore. How could he know what it was like anyway? Happiness wasn't his thing. Nothing good had ever come out of it in his life.

He'd grown up learning to distrust it, because each time he'd allowed himself to taste it, something had always inevitably gone wrong. When he was a little boy, he wanted to love his dad like every other kid did, but for no reason, it seemed that the more he was willing to please him and make him proud, the more his father hated him.

Early on, he'd been forced to learn how to build a life based on principles that he knew would not disappoint him: Science, Truth, Self. Then he'd met Stacy, and he had started to believe again. But he'd paid the price of his naivety the hard way because, after his infarction, not only had he ended up with a piece of muscle taken out of his leg, but he'd lost her, too, and when she'd left him, she'd taken a piece of another muscle away with her. From his heart.

Never trust anyone, never show weakness, never hope for better things to come…

He stared at the mirror. In front of him, what he saw was a man, half-naked, confused, drawn, and alone. He clenched his jaw, and turned his head away, avoiding his reflection. The bathtub was now full, so he leaned over the faucets and turned the water off. He sighed heavily, feeling lost, but then he thought of her, curled up in a ball, wrapped in his blanket, alone on his sofa, too, and waiting for him. She'd come to him. She'd bared herself in front of him, both metaphorically and literally. Shouldn't he feel blessed that a woman like Cuddy would wait for him naked in his living room? Surely, there were better things to do than pitying his poor self in front of his mirror.

A shadow of a smile lit his face and, suddenly, House felt the uncontainable need to hold her in his arms again, warm her and bring her close to his chest, feel her breath brush his collarbone. Tonight, whatever may come, he only wanted to fall asleep with her body snugged up against his wounded one.

He limped out of the bathroom and hurried toward the living room. Halfway down the hallway, he found himself unable to wait any longer and called out to her.

"Hey, Cuddy! Come get your big ass in here!"

He listened carefully for her answer, but only received silence in reply. "She fell asleep," he thought at first. Then, he realized his bantering routine about her ass must've grown old and that she was probably purposely ignoring him so that he knew it had upset her a bit. But joking about the size of her ass wasn't that mean of an insult. He'd always said things like that to her and she'd always laughed at it, at least ignored it. She knew it was meaningless and that it was just part of their bantering game. Truth be said, he had nothing to complain about her ass, as it was the most beautiful, perfectly sized ass he'd ever seen.

"C'mon Cuddy!" he said, entering the living room. "I swear I won't spill a single word about your truly gigantic rear measurements."

He stopped short as soon as he made the first step in the room and immediately noticed every little detail that screamed it to his face: The blanket was resting, neatly folded, on top on the sofa's backrest. Her clothes weren't randomly lying on the floor anymore. Neither was her purse, nor her coat near the door.

There were only three words to sum it up: She had left.

He looked all around his living room in bewilderment. Then he looked down at his feet and stood there for an eternity in the emptiness of his apartment, alone and miserable. He shot a quick glance at his coffee table and spotted the bottle of bourbon. He walked round the sofa and leaned down to grab it. Then, limping heavily, he paced back in the bathroom with the bottle in his hand.

There, he bent to pull the bathtub plug and watched the water being sucked into the pipe. He unscrewed the cap of the bottle of bourbon and lifted the neck to his mouth. Catching his reflection in the mirror, he stopped just before swallowing the first sip and stared at himself with bitterness. He smirked and chinked the bottle's neck with the mirror glass. "Cheers, crippled freak!" he muttered to his reflection.

# # # # #

It was cold outside. In her haste to leave House's place, Cuddy hadn't exactly taken all the time she needed to get her clothes properly on. She'd gotten dressed half decently and had gathered the rest of her stuff in her arms in a quick fit, running away as fast as she could.

Why? She couldn't tell. It'd just been a sudden, strong urge, impossible to repress. She was seated on his sofa and suddenly, she'd felt uneasy. Out of place. Not just because House had left her alone in the living room, but because she'd felt unwanted and uninvited in his apartment.

Maybe hoping for a little more than a good, amazing lay was too demanding, but she thought she deserved it. They deserved it. She'd been weak, instead, and stupid, and she hated herself for that. Yes, she liked sex, and yes, she'd gotten what she wanted, somehow. But was that all? If she were being honest with herself, it shouldn't be, for she knew the real reasons why she'd come to him in the first place. God, she was so naïve!

Still, that feeling of awkwardness couldn't possibly be all that would remain of that night. It had to mean more than just that. She hadn't dreamed. There was something in his eyes just before he'd looked down at his feet and confessed that he needed her. She'd seen it. But if, as she thought, House really did need her, then she would not make the next move, even less beg him to acknowledge her.

Now was his turn to come to her if he dared…

(…)