Bad Girl

TITLE: Bad Girl
Post-ep to "Holy Night"
AUTHOR: Katrina McDonnell
EMAIL: mcdonnem@tpg.com.au
SPOILERS: Holy Night
RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: The West Wing and its characters are the property of
Aaron Sorkin, Warner Brothers, and NBC. No Copyright Infringement
is intended. I will put them back slightly disheveled.
ARCHIVE: Sure, but please ask first.
FEEDBACK: Much appreciated.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Had to celebrate the return of my adorable Fishboy!
And I actually managed to write something with no real plot or angst.
THANKS: To Kansas and Kat for editing and support.
DEDICATED TO: The wonderful Rhonda for my West Wing Chrissie
present and giving me the opportunity to see the famous Santa Danny.
SUMMARY: "So, how have you been a very bad girl?"

Where had she left them?

She drummed the podium with her fingertips, trying to think.

"CJ?"

Looking up, she watched Danny approach her through the shadows of
the darkened press room.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just misplaced some papers. Thought I might have left them here,
since I got a little distracted at the end of the briefing." She smiled as
he stepped up onto the stage.

"Only a little?" He overlaid her right hand with his and moved to stand
behind her. "I was hoping for a big distraction," he breathed in her ear.

CJ straightened, attempting to keep at least a small measure of distance
between their bodies. "Whose idea was it?"

"Me being Santa?"

"No, the Easter Bunny." Wrong thing to say. She didn't need to see his
face to know there was a lascivious grin spreading over it.

He ran his fingers up her left forearm, the hairs standing on end. "Bunnies...
I like that idea even better."

CJ closed her eyes as the heat flowed south. She couldn't let him know
how easily he shattered her control. "Was Josh involved? I know you
e-mailed him."

"Maybe."

Danny rubbed her thumb with his, her hand on the podium flexing and
allowing his fingers to slip between hers.

"I know at least Mark and Katie--" She swallowed a sigh as he closed the
distance between them. "Was the kiss part of the set up?"

He nipped her earlobe as his left hand moved onto her chest, tracing the
underline of her bra. "So, how have you been a very bad girl?"

"I wanted the twenty-year-old choir boys to take me to their place." She
let the change of direction go by without complaint.

"I'm sure it was just so they could sing to you."

His beard brushed against her ear, setting the nerve endings humming.
"That's what I told Carol. But I've been even worse since then and I'm
probably going to go to hell."

"Tell me why, Miss Cregg," he purred.

"I've been fantasising about sex with Santa." How did that slip out?

"I don't think Santa would have a problem with that."

She felt a stirring against the back of her thigh. "Probably not."

"In fact, I think Santa may have been doing some fantasising of his own."

His hand slipped down her body and under her skirt, his fingers trailing
up the inside of her thigh, pausing at the edge of her panties.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered.

She was on dangerous ground, but long past caring about consequences.

"Don't stop."

Danny roared off at the green light, pushing her panties to the side and
immediately locating her clitoris. His first touch sparked a shudder, CJ
gripping the podium to steady herself while pushing against his hand.

"You still got the Santa suit?"

"You really do want sex with him. I'm jealous."

She gasped as he pressed hard into her clit. "Only if you're in the suit."

"I don't have to return it 'till after Christmas." His fingers stroked across
her folds. "You're wet," he growled.

And heading rapidly towards dripping.

"You doing anything tomorrow night?"

She lost the power of speech as he slipped a fr inr inside, slowly plunging
in and out of her. A second finger soon joined the first, his thumb rubbing
her clitoris.

It had been so long, too long, since she'd had any hand but her own between
her legs. Her body was on the fast track to release.

She grinned at the image of Christmas in two years, Santa presenting her
with the press corps gift and bypassing her lips for better places. His
touch as recognisable as his kiss.

"Danny," she managed to mumble.

His beard and lips tickled her neck. She attempted to grind her bottom
against him, but threw off his rhythm.

"Don't." He let go of her hand to encircle her waist with his arm. "Just
let me do this. It's my gift to you."

And what a gift.

Sept ept hold of the podium as she leaned back against him, the pressure
of his hardening penis arousing her even further. God...she wanted him
inside her.

Her breathing quickened and she closed her eyes as his hand movement
between her legs intensified. His other hand moved from her waist up to
her breasts, his fingers pinching her already peaked left nipple.

Moans issued from her mouth as the desire built to excruciating levels. If
she didn't come soon...the first wave of spasms hit and...

Nothing.

She'd been too caught up in her body's reactions to recognise his withdrawal.
Her eyes sprang open, locating Danny standing near the edge of the stage.

"What the--" Her rapid breaths disrupted her speech. "Daniel! I was
nearly there!"

He grinned. "Hold that thought till tomorrow night. My place, seven
thirty. I'll be the one in the Santa suit."

"You expect me to come--"

Danny stepped off the stage and started walking towards the back of the
room. "If you're going to insist on it being a business dinner, you bring
the notebook."

"Screw you."

"That's the intention."

"You're hopeful," she hissed.

Danny paused and replied in a soft tone, "Always."

Those eyes were difficult to deny. She broke his gaze and stared down at
the podium, too painfully aroused to walk back to her office. A couple
more strokes should do it.

CJ rubbed the soaked material against her oversensitive skin, thighs straining.
Her breath caught and she clutched the podium tightly with her free hand as
she hit the peak.

She slowly floated back down to earth before her brain rudely interrupted
the endorphin-induced haze by reminding her where she was and what they --
she -- had just done.

Her head snapped up and her gaze was drawn to a shape at the back of
the room, behind the glass and blinds. She panicked for a second, worried
she'd been caught, before recognising him.

A mixture of arousal and something she didn't want to analyse crossed
his face. His eyes requested her answer.

She replied with a nod and a small smile.

Tomorrow night she would make sure he finished what he started, even
if she had to tie him down.