AN: M chapter

PJ

Cal let his eyes dart down to check his hand and then they darted up again so he could check Gillian's face. It was hard to tell. Really hard. It wasn't this hard before was it? He was meant to be able to read her. He narrowed his left eye slightly to see if she would react, but she kept that stony expression on her face.

"When you're ready," Gillian prompted.

"Patience," Cal shot back. He'd spent the last few rounds trying to figure out her tell. Everyone had a tell; the trick was to repress it. Cal knew what his was and every time he got dealt a good hand, like now, he consciously made sure he did a few other random little tics or movements of his eyes and fingers to throw Gillian off. Even if she noticed the movements she couldn't be sure what he was giving away. He also made sure he did the same things when he had a crap hand, including his actual tell, which was a lot more obvious if he was doing it consciously. But as for Gillian... she probably wasn't initiating some sort of procedure... but goddamn she must have been working on her poker face.

"I'll raise," Cal finally made a decision. "My shirt."

Gillian arched an eyebrow, gave him an impressed expression. "Confident are we?"

"I'm not answerin' that," Cal winced at her. It was hard to tell if she did that on purpose. She claimed to not have played Texas Hold'em very much but she was doing all right. She had won his shoes and socks in a few early rounds, which he promptly won back. Now he had her shoes and pantyhose, which he made her go to the bathroom to take off.

Gillian reached for her wine glass and took a sip. "Ok," she simply.

Cal gave a slight smirk. "So you call?"

"Yes."

"All right. What have you got?"

"What have you got?"

They weren't exactly following the rules of the poker game down to the letter but it was still a lot of fun. They were dealing out all the community cards and their hands in one go, leaving the 'turn', the last card, and then deciding what to bet or whether they would fold. It sped the game up and it also meant Gillian was now down to larger items of clothing. Once they made their bet, the last card was turned over and then they would see who had won. Cal put his cards down on the table to show her, a pair of nines.

"Hm," Gillian mused. She had a queen of spades and a jack of hearts. Cal started to feel a little nervous. The community cards didn't hold anything for either of them at the moment but that last card could change it all. A jack or a queen and Cal would be screwed. "Let's see it then," she instructed, gesturing to the deck sitting on the table to Cal's right.

He pulled the top card and flipped it, putting it down on the table at the end of the row in a singular smooth motion. It was a two of hearts. Cal looked up and grinned. "Aw damnit," Gillian cussed and shoved her cards towards him; she had a whole lot of nothing even with the community cards.

"Shirt."

Gillian pouted at him.

"Come on," Cal coaxed. "Take it off," he gave her another leering grin as he reached to gather up the cards for another round.

"Fine," Gillian started unbuttoning it. Slowly. From the bottom. Cal found himself holding his breath as he shuffled slowly. The shirt was a light blue but the bra underneath was lacy black and Cal felt his fingers fumble. He dropped a few cards and gathered them up blindly, he was staring at Gillian and Gillian was staring at him. She slipped the shirt over her wrists and tossed it in his face. It smelt like her. Cal felt his groin twitch. He put the cards down on the table and removed the shirt, after inhaling a good lungful of her sweet scent, and hooked it by the collar on the back of his chair. Gillian reached over for the cards, her cleavage dipping low. Cal stared, feeling his throat go dry. That was totally on purpose. Was she losing on purpose? She had to know playing cards with him was a dangerous move. And she was the one to suggest they play for clothes, not matchsticks... Cal felt a sweat break out across his shoulders.

Gillian shuffled the cards once and started dealing, two for each of them, four for the community; a jack of spades, a four of hearts, an eight of spades and a seven of spades. She put the deck down and picked up her cards and gave a little purse of her lips. She had something good. Cal remembered to pick up his own cards. He pressed his feet against the carpet, trying to find a little cool patch for them, trying to ground himself again. Cal gave his hand a quick cursory glance. Two jacks. Wholly shit that was a good hand. He could make a Full House with those and the community cards if he could get another four, eight or seven; without that extra card he still had three of a kind, which was a good hand.

But Gillian had pursed her lips and that meant she had a good hand too... Cal tried to guess... She could have another jack, but that still meant Cal had nothing to worry about, because she might have two, but he had three. She could have a six and a five to make a straight. Which was also good, but still not something for Cal to worry about if he got his Full House. He looked up expectantly. As the dealer, Gillian was to make the bet. She sat for a moment, her face still now and Cal watched her carefully, eyes roving over her chest, trying to guess what she was going to do before she did it.

"I'll go for trousers."

Cal's eyebrows went up, he couldn't help it. She was really very confident then. She must have a flush but that still didn't trump Cal's potential Full House... unless... unless she had a ten and a nine of spades to make a straight flush, then he would be sitting in his underwear. Which could get really embarrassing if she continued to reach over her chest to scratch at her shoulder like that which made her breasts squish up against each other... And Emily was coming over later to have dinner with them.

"When you're ready," Gillian teased.

Cal took a longer look at his cards this time and could feel her eyes on him. It wasn't like he couldn't afford to win. He could just give her shirt back. But god, did he really, really want her to lose those trousers. Course he could fold and she could put clothes back on... Did she want him to? Win that was. What if she was playing him? Did that matter if the end result was the same? Please let the end result be the same.

Gillian reached for her wine glass again, finishing the last of it. When she went for it, boy could she drink, but most of the time she was careful. God he was having such a hard time focussing. "All right," he agreed. "Trousers and I'll go for your shirt."

"Great," Gillian flashed him a confident smile and Cal found himself silently begging. "Let's see them then."

Cal put his cards down on the table and watched her make the deductions in her head. Then she put her cards down. She had an ace and a nine of spades. So she had an ace-high flush; five cards of the same suit. Which meant if the 'turn' revealed a four Cal would win and if not, then Gillian had already won. Good lord it was tense. Probably one of the most tense poker games Cal had ever played and he'd come up against beautiful women before, albeit with their shirts on. Gillian turned over the last card with confidence and it was a four of diamonds.

"Yes!" Cal got to his feet quickly, tossing his cards to the table top. Gillian looked up at him in surprise. He grabbed her gently by the arms, tugging her to her feet. "Take them off." Gillian laughed and fended off his hands, then pulled him by the neck to kiss him fervently, crushing his body against hers, before shoving him back again. "Take them off," Cal growled at her, attempting to reach for her hips.

"Give me a second," Gillian protested good-naturedly, also reaching for the catch but Cal was already there. He pushed the large black button through the hole and whipped down the zipper. He attempted to pull the material open but there was something else hindering; her trousers resisted him. Gillian gave another slight laugh. "There's another button," she told him softly. Cal's fingers hesitated. "I'll get it," she whispered.

Cal pressed in close against her, hustling her back against the table. He heard her empty wine glass topple over and start to roll. He lowered his mouth to her neck, that soft spot beneath her ear, then her ear, her jaw. He heard her huff, felt her chest rise sharply against his, bare skin against his arms, the pressure of her wrists turning to undo the hidden button that would let her trousers go free. When her hands lifted to grip his shoulders Cal's moved in. He pushed at the material of her trousers so they slid down. He followed, smoothing his hands over her backside, making sure the table was not going to get in the way. Bare skin beneath his palms, she was wearing a thong. He gave her a squeeze and she licked the vein in his neck and it made him shiver, her hands scraping over his skull.

Cal smoothed his hands to her hips, pushing up a little so she would get the hint and jump. When she did, he sat her on the table. Her legs immediately parted to wrap around his thighs and he stepped forward and shifted them higher to his waist. He pressed against her as he went back to his gentle tease of her throat. She gave a little 'oh' and he felt her hands on his jeans buttons. She worked quickly and took him in her hand and stroked him gently but that was enough. Cal felt his blood pound through him and he had to stop kissing her to adjust, to catch his breath.

Gillian pressed her lips against the edge of his jaw, taking over when he let up, and Cal turned his head to kiss her fully on the mouth, delving deep, pushing at her with his shoulders, his hands gripping her hip and the edge of the table. Her fingers felt amazing and she did not let an inch of him go untouched. Cal dropped his head to her shoulder, panting, feeling his body quivering already. An 'oh' escaped Cal's lips too. Then he was aware of Gillian again, how hot her skin was, how she breathed so rapidly, how he could feel her pulse when he pressed his mouth to her throat. He tipped her back further and her hands flew to his shoulders so she didn't suddenly fall back against the table.

Cal lowered her gently, looking down for a moment at her heaving chest with appreciation. She gave him a faint smile, her eyes dark and glowing. He tugged her trousers off, stepping back a little, then dropped suddenly to the carpet, tucking his fingers behind her knees and bit her through her underwear. Gillian flinched and let out a cry and her feet came up to rest on Cal's shoulders. She lifted her head to see him and he gave a devilishly pleased grin, catching her right hand with his left to keep her from touching him, or interfering. With his right he pulled aside the material of her underwear and pressed his mouth against her. The muscles in her thighs tightened against his cheeks and he used his free hand to push her away again.

"Oh Cal," Gillian moaned, her fingers tightening against his, her feet using downward force to anchor herself. She gave a series of huffing breaths, trying to get a hold of herself; she was already most of the way there. Cal teased her in an agonisingly slow way, ignoring her requests for more or the way her thighs twitched closer and closer around his head. "Please," she switched phrases and Cal felt a little inclined to speed up the process. Now she was really close and moaning louder and periodically calling out his name and pushing her hips up against him; it drove him wild. And all of a sudden, "No." It was a groan and then again, more insistent and she sat up a little, pulling at his hair to bring him up.

Cal gave her a surprised expression. She was right there, on the edge, he could tell, and it wouldn't take much to just push her over. "I want to feel you," she demanded almost on a whine, her eyes black, her cheeks bright red, her skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat, her lungs working over time. She tugged on his hair again, bringing him to his feet and bunched up his shirt, pulling it over his head. Cal grabbed it out of her hand, wiped his face, tossed it to the side and fell forward into her arms. She kissed him hungrily, shifting her hips, having to lift her legs one at a time to move because her sweat stuck her to the wooden table top. Cal felt for her underwear and ripped it away quickly down her legs; less than a second and he was back, positing himself.

He waited and she gave a little thrust forward to indicate she was waiting and not too patiently about it. She wrapped him up in her, arms, legs, everywhere, so there wasn't an inch between them. Cal's knees almost gave out on him, the warm wet assault came from all angles; he took a moment to gather his senses, then made two little thrusts to find the right angle and that was it. Gillian shook against him and threw back her head, cursing at the ceiling, her hips pushing against him in a quick beat. Cal held her this time, feeling her heart right through her skin, pounding wildly as she quivered inside and out.

Before she had only just started to come down again, Cal moved his hips in long steady strokes and her fingers dug into his shoulders, clinging on. "Oh," she murmured again. "Cal," she breathed and encouraged; Cal let the tempo increase a little. She barely relaxed the entire time, periodically calling out and cursing and holding him so tightly; and seriously, the more she talked the more excited he got.

It was certainly not a record for length of time, but top marks went for the intensity. Cal wasn't sure, however he did kind of hope, and it certainly seemed like it, but maybe Gillian orgasmed the entire time he was shagging her. She was barely coherent in his arms and when he finally lost it and calmed down he could still feel the fluttering of her against him, fingers and heart and inside and outside. She gave a little whimper into the silence. Cal had to unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth as he straightened up a little. He didn't let her go though; his arm was tightly around her back, still holding her up against him. "Are you all right?" He whispered, finding his voice lost.

Gillian looked up at him, dazed. "Yes?" It sounded like a question and Cal took a second to read her face, to see she was ok, then he laughed a little and she joined him. Cal let her down to the table gently to let her finish catching her breath and stepped back. Cal's jeans and briefs were pooled around his ankles and Gillian still had on her bra and they had just had a top ten shag on the surface of his dining room table and the deck of cards they had been playing poker with.

"You like it on top of a table huh?" Gillian pulled herself up to sit.

Cal gave a slight grin. The other day it had been her coffee table. "I guess I'm gonna have to have you on every table I can find now that we've started. There's two in your office, two in mine, then there's the entire lab to think about," he stepped closer again and rested his head against her sternum for a moment, cushioned by her breasts, feeling her shake with mirth. He felt her hand comb through his hair and he sighed his contentment.

"What time did you say Emily was going to be home?"

Cal straightened up again, checking his watch. "Oh shit."