||[Sep. 19th, 2006|07:03 pm]
Cuddy's Secret - Season Three Companion Series
“He got up!” Cuddy cried. She could still feel the dried tears on her cheeks. She stood up, “I have to go tell House.”
“No.” Wilson protested. The force in his voice halted her. Made her stop. “Cuddy.” She stayed silent so he spoke again. “You can’t tell him.”
Cuddy stared at him in disbelief. Her mouth dropped open with an interrupted thought poised on her tongue. “I have to tell him! He was right!”
“Why did you do it?” His eyes were accusing as they watched her. She could feel him looking right into her. Her heart pounded in her chest to the point where she could hear it ringing in her ears. “What made you think he was right?”
“Because he’s House.”
There was no real reason. Wilson was right. There wasn’t any reason she should’ve thought he could be right. Except of course that he could be right.
“Medically. What made you think he was right?”
She sighed. “Nothing.”
“He got lucky.” Wilson said, his tone softening slightly. “That’s all that happened. Telling him no was a good thing because next time he won’t get lucky. He’ll kill someone. Just because he was right doesn’t mean he wasn’t wrong.”
Yeah. It did. But Cuddy didn’t have the strength of will to argue anymore.
“I see him every day, I can’t just…” Maybe House would be better served by Wilson’s lesson in humility. The alternative, telling him, would only further stroke his ego. It would make him even more of a smug bastard. She could see him grinning smugly in her mind’s eye. She’d battle the guilt gladly if she didn’t have to see the incessant grin.
She found it infuriating when he quoted House.
He put his arm around her shoulders, holding her to him as they walked. Cuddy’s eyes were on the ground, counting the tiles to keep from thinking about House.
He followed her home again as he had been doing for the past two months while House was out.
His lips were on hers as soon as they were through the door. His hands around her waist, holding her against the door.
His fingers were warm and her skin felt cold, she shivered under his touch. She slipped her eyes closed and sighed as his lips caressed her collarbone, pushing her blouse up. His fingers trailing lazily across her stomach.
She almost wished he’d just grab her, throw her against the wall and fuck her until it hurt. Rip her apart from the inside. Throbbing pleasure-pain pouring from every orifice. Her vision going fuzzy as she tumbled over the edge and came so hard and so violently that she doubted her own sanity.
He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. She was nestled in her soft comforter as he covered her body with his. She ran her fingers through his hair, taking a handful in her hand and tugging.
She remembered the first time they had sex. He was sitting on her couch as she passed him with two cups of coffee. He’d watched her ass as she walked and she pretended she didn’t notice.
She handed him a cup of coffee, his fingers lingered on hers but she couldn’t lift her eyes to his.
“I think we should review these case files. We need to give House a very interesting case. He can walk now so we have to make sure his interest is kept.”
“We always talk about House.”
“Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Wilson’s hand stroked up her leg. She watched his hand squeeze her knee. “You’re so beautiful Lisa.”
“I’m Lisa now, am I?”
He took her on the couch that day. Since then it had always been in her bed, once in his. She found the monotony of it boring but the familiarity of being with Wilson was comforting.
It was comforting and nice just as long as she didn’t think too hard about it, try to put it into words, try to give it any meaning. Even calling it friends with benefits would be calling it something it wasn’t. It was completely unquantifiable.
It was just sex. It was just her and Wilson. Having sex.
He pushed into her, her back arching and her legs wrapping around his waist. She moved with him, their hips rubbing together and their still clothed chests rustling against one another.
She closed her eyes and he panted, moaning softly as she bit her lip. His movements were slow and his strokes were deliberate. He held her as he thrust into her. She moaned and bucked hoping to encourage him to move faster.
Being with Wilson was nice. But sex wasn’t supposed to be nice, it was supposed to be hot and steamy, it should make her want to scream and thrash.
The pressure in her stomach built until she climaxed. She hesitated to even deem it an orgasm. It was the climax to the sex, yes, but it was not the big O. He emptied himself into the condom with a long grunt. He collapsed on top of her. Their pants echoing in the room until their breathing evened out.
He stroked her hair and kissed her on the mouth.
“Stay for dinner?” She asked softly.
Yes, it was comfortable and nice to have him around and she loved it when he stayed.
She said stay. So he stayed.