Playing With Fire

Playing With Fire
by Carolina


She was burning. Inside and out.

The sun was mercilessly roasting her skin, absolutely no breeze could be felt; it was stifling. And that really wasn’t something completely out of the ordinary, not in Miami. But her air conditioner had decided to stop working just the night before. She really had to be impressed at its perfect timing. And now she was miserable, and sweating. She hated to sweat. Sweat was disgusting.

Calleigh Duquesne stood in her small balcony, watching as the cars drove by below, but her mind was miles away. Moments like these she wished she lived in Alaska, where it was always cool, where there were no scorching heat waves like the one they were experiencing now. It would be glorious. Plus, she looked great in winter clothing. It really was something to think about.

Her mind was already solving crimes with penguins and Eskimos when she heard a knock on the door. Too hot and lazy to move, she shouted at the person to come in. Could be a lunatic murderer, but considering how miserable she was, death would be a glorious escape.

"Calleigh?"

Much to her disappointment, it wasn't a lunatic murderer. Just Eric. Only one of those adjectives described him.

"Out here!" she called out.

Eric suddenly appeared in front of her, carrying a big box. He stopped when he saw her there and didn't even try to be discreet. Or maybe he just didn’t have the time, because he certainly hadn't been ready to see what he saw now. Calleigh stood in her balcony, leaning onto the railing, wearing a pair of shorts that gave the word 'short' justice and a tank top that looked like it belonged to a nine year old boy. She was barefooted; her toe nails painted red, sunglasses on top of her head, her hair braided into two strings on each side of her neck. His eyes wandered over her body, all the way down to her toes and up again and he was in awe. He had never seen Calleigh like this. Correction, he had seen her like this, just never while he had been awake.

Calleigh rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. When he finally realized what he was doing, and realized she had been watching him, he looked away, a little embarrassed. "It's hot in here."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Calleigh said sarcastically. He chuckled, but not his usual playful chuckle, a tense chuckle, like he was laughing at a joke he didn't really get. She decided to ignore it and pointed at the box he carried. "Is that my fan?"

"Uh, yeah," Eric replied. Fan? Sure, if she said so. He suddenly realized she meant that big, heavy box he had been carrying this whole time and he felt like an idiot. But hey, he thought, put Calleigh Duquesne in a pair of shorts in front of any guy and they'd forget their own names for sure. He was human after all.

"Where do you want it?"

"Living room, for now," she said, but Eric didn't even try to move. He kept staring at her with an expression on his face Calleigh was having a hard time trying to describe. His eyes were darker, suddenly full of life, and she couldn't help but feel a little vulnerable in front of him.

She hated to admit it didn't even occur to her to change when he told her he was coming over. This was Eric, after all. Her friend Eric. It's never been like that with him. But he was still a guy and she should've figured her attire wasn't very... appropriate, to say the least. She was comfortable wearing shorts in front of him, or at least with the idea of wearing shorts in front of him, since she never had, because she assumed it wouldn't get a reaction. She just wasn't Eric's type. He usually went for the tall, dark women and 'tall' and 'dark' were two words that didn't exist in Calleigh's genetic vocabulary.

But the way he looked at her now... he had never looked at her like this before, so intensely. Intense. Yeah, that was a good way to describe it. A safer way to describe it, too.

"That way, Eric," she said, pointing at the room behind him.

Eric shook his head, turned around and she followed him with a tiny smile on her face. Intense, maybe, but it was still kinda funny. He put the box on her couch and tried to use his nails to peel off the tape that held the box closed but he was having a hard time with it. So Calleigh went into the kitchen, got a knife and handed it to him.

As long strings of clear tape fell on her floor, Eric looked at her and smiled, gently pulling one of her braids. "You look like a Hee-Haw Honey."

Calleigh smiled indignantly and looked away. "I'm taking that as a compliment."

"I meant it that way," he said, a twinkle appearing in his eyes.

For once, she could at least blame the heat for the red hue that she knew decorated her face now. Okay, this wasn't funny anymore. Self conscious, she undid her braids and let her hair down. But it was way too hot, so she tied it into a messy pony tail and watched as Eric took the bits and pieces of the fan and started putting them together, and less than a minute into the job, he was already sweating.

And wow, who knew sweat could be so... manly?

There was something almost hypnotizing about it. Of course nobody could refute the fact that everywhere Eric went, a crowd of mind-boggled women followed. Not only was he good looking, but incredibly charming as well. But manly, Eric? Everybody thought of him as the baby of the Miami-Dade crime lab, so naturally, Calleigh had always seen him with those eyes as well. Didn't help that Eric could get attached to cases at times, not quite so extravagantly, but in the world of law enforcement a smidge of empathy could sometimes be misconstrued as a sign of emotional immaturity, and some people around the department saw him through what she knew now was a misapprehension. Surely they had never seen him putting a fan together.

Calleigh shook her head and mentally chastised herself for exaggerating things. So, Eric was manly, so what? Big deal. He was born a man, of course he could do manly things in manly ways and look manly while doing them. No biggie. She was sure there were millions of men out there who had the same talent. And really, putting a fan together, there was nothing particularly magnanimous about it. Given the right amount of time, even her three year old nephew could do it.

So she walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and lingered there for a second, reveling in the cool air that flowed out, wishing she could stay there until her skin turned blue. But then the inside of the refrigerator was starting to get warm and after pouring some lemonade for Eric, she closed its door. When she walked back into the living room, the fan was already oscillating in front of him. Calleigh handed him his lemonade and put her hand in front of the spinning blades.

It was nothing but warm air. Warm air at high speed.

"Ugh, that's it?" she complained.

Eric took a sip of his lemonade and wiped some of the sweat off his hairline with his forearm. "It's a fan, what did you expect?"

"Cool air?" she replied.

"Then you should probably get an air conditioner," he joked but she wasn't laughing, threw him a glare that nearly killed him right there. "Sorry."

"You're not funny," she complained but not very convincingly when a smile suddenly tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"I know." Eric smiled at her and then she did something that could only be described as cruel. Took his lemonade away from him and put the glass to her lips, only she ignored the liquid and began to suckle on a chunk of ice instead.

Eric had to look away. He had no idea if Calleigh was doing it on purpose or not, but if she was, he hoped she knew she was plain playing with fire now. It's bad enough that heat makes you feel crazy things when you're alone; add a pair of shorts and her little ice game there and... Well, Calleigh had never been the innocent type, period. Surely she knew what she was doing.

But even if she didn't know, Eric couldn't help but notice something was happening here, some kind of energy going back and forth and he had to wonder if it was just him, or the heat, or if it had always been this way between them. He knew it had always been that way from his side. Hell, he dared any straight man out there to look at Calleigh and not think she was sexy. Yet until that moment, he had never received any indications from her that she even liked him. But now there was something there and maybe it was the heat talking, Eric couldn't tell. He could certainly feel it, but that was even more dangerous, because he got the distinct feeling that if they so much as touched now, the whole building would burst into flames.

So he reached for his keys, reluctantly but he had to go. He couldn't stay there with her, not when she looked like that, not when beads of sweat were making their way down her chest and in between her breasts, and not when he suddenly realized how jealous he was of them, how much he wished he could trace the road they were taking with his fingers, lips, tongue. Not when she kept complaining about how hot she was, how sticky she was, so much that, apparently, it required her hands to continuously rub her neck and shoulders. It was torture. He had to get out of there.

But he stopped when he heard her protest.

"Where are you going?"

"Home?" Eric replied.

"You're not gonna fix my AC?" she asked with a pitiful pitch in her voice that made her sound like a nine year old who has just been told there is no Santa Claus.

He chuckled, taking a few steps forward. "Calleigh, I don't know what's wrong with it."

"Then find out! Fix it," she exclaimed.

"Calleigh—"

"Eric, I can't sleep without my air conditioner again."

Oh boy, he thought. Way to jump from uncomfortable to downright wretched. Of course, he could tell her she had central air conditioner, that they would have to call her landlord and even if they did, it was Sunday. The man was bound to be home with his family, would probably hang up the phone if they interrupted his day off to complain about the heat. He could tell her that even if the landlord came over, they would have to call a professional and again, Sunday. Could tell her there was nothing he could do about it and good bye, but Eric felt bad. He didn't have the heart to tell her she'd have to do with that crappy fan he had bought her. And that voice, that pitiful voice... he felt like he was stealing candy from a child.

"Have you ever been to hell, Eric? I have been to hell. That room in there, that's hell. I slept in hell last night."

Her Southern accent had suddenly intensified and Eric shifted on his feet. If she knew what that accent did to him sometimes, she would probably get rid of it fast. Not that she had a choice, being Southern and all, but she would at least try to control it. Some people found it incredibly annoying. Not Eric. All she needed to do was say his name in that accent and he was at her absolute mercy. Pathetic, maybe, but everybody had their Achilles' heel and Calleigh's accent was his.

"Then come and stay with me," he said instead, in a moment of weakness and she immediately scoffed at the ridiculous notion. Not so ridiculous, really. He had slept on her couch so many times he had lost count. And he did have a spare room. So for her to stay with him, really, it didn't seem like such a ridiculous idea.

But it did to her and he couldn't understand why. Just looking at her made him feel miserable. Her skin had turned pink and Eric was scared she might actually die of a heat stroke. It really was scorching in her apartment, so hot he was beginning to feel lightheaded. He couldn't get how that was a better option than staying with him for one night. Eric figured it was just another one of those things only women could understand, but really, if something happened to her, something he could have prevented, he would never be able to forgive himself. So he pressed a bit harder.

"Calleigh, this is ridiculous, just come and stay with me for a night."

"No," she said stubbornly, cleaning up the mess he had left behind.

Eric crossed his arms in front of him defiantly. "You'd rather die in here."

"Yes, Eric, I would rather die," she said, exasperated.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"Because," she grunted but stopped there, letting out a sigh instead.

Truth was it had nothing to do with stubbornness. Nothing to do with stubbornness at all. Everything to do with the fact that she was hot, sticky; suddenly hyperaware of her body, and her mind was starting to sail into uncharted territory. And Eric was standing in her living room, wearing a fitted tee and sweating and looking like a man. Put all those things together and you get a troubling situation, itching fingers and wandering eyes and she needed to put an end to it now. And that was definitely not going to happen if she went home with him.

How could she explain that to Eric without sounding like an incoherent moron?

She couldn't even understand it herself! Couldn't explain the way he was making her feel inside, like all her internal organs were gone. And judging by the way he kept looking at her, so intensely, so full of wonder and tension and what the hell, probably lust, too, she figured if he didn't leave soon something bad was going to happen, something she knew she wouldn't have the power, nor the desire, to stop.

And he kept looking at her like that now. And she was pretty sure she was looking at him the same way, because there was a blush in his cheeks she had never seen there before and Calleigh got the feeling it had nothing to do with heat, but everything to do with the way he kept shifting on his feet nervously. Maybe he felt the same way she did? Maybe his fingers were also itching, his mind wandering, but he thought he would be able to repress those emotions better? Well, he must have been incredibly naïve, because as long as they stayed in the same room that was not going to happen.

"Come on, get your things," Eric coaxed, but she didn't move. "No midnight tiptoe, I promise."

She chuckled, but it had nothing to do with the humorous intentions behind his statement. And maybe he could smell the irony in it, too, because his smile suddenly diminished and at that moment Calleigh couldn't tell if the fact that he had always been able to read her like an open book was a good thing or a bad thing. Probably a bad thing, because she got the feeling he was reading her mind now and she suddenly felt ashamed for thinking those things about her friend, who was waiting for her by the front door with a knowing look on his face. One glance at him and Calleigh could tell he knew what she was thinking. Or better yet, what she was trying hard not to think. He was reading her mind so accurately they might have been having the conversation out loud, and she had to look down to hide the embarrassment she knew had turned her cheeks red.

Oh, God, was this actually happening?

"Eric," she began, but instantly realized she had nothing to say. Or had everything to say but it was too dangerous. Hearing her own voice, Calleigh realized she sounded like a stranger. She sounded like she was begging him for something and maybe she was. She knew she was screaming for it on the inside, but on the outside, she tried to remain composed and collected.

Apparently it wasn't working very well, because the temperature suddenly seemed to rise, despite the fan that oscillated from him to her, from her to him. Through a hazy blur Calleigh saw him walking over and a weak, trembling voice inside her head tried to convince her to look away, tell him to leave, but it was so low she never heard it.

And really, that's the thing about heat. It numbs you up. It makes the simple act of thinking impossible. You can't think when you're hot, period. You can think when you're cold, enough to know how to turn up the heat or get some blankets, but it's impossible to formulate an articulate thought when the temperatures are so high. Your brain evaporates. Only the body can't function properly without the mind. It just goes and does all these crazy things and then the mind has to deal with the consequences.

So when Eric was in front of her and rested one hesitant hand on her hip, one on her cheek, Calleigh did nothing. Something told her she should have; something told her this wasn't supposed to be happening, but her mind was lagging so much she was still trying to figure out what he was doing in her apartment in the first place. Something about a fan? Heat wave? It was all a blur.

She didn't do anything either when his lips pressed on her temple. Couldn't do anything because her body was suddenly responding to his, quivering at his touch. One of her hands came to rest on his chest, trying to push him away or pull him closer, she couldn't tell, but her head was leaning into his touch, her breath caught in her throat, and it quickly dawned on her that she couldn't control it.

And it probably didn't help that she wanted this. She wanted it and hadn't realized it until the moment he touched her. It all came flooding back to her like a forgotten memory, because she couldn't remember needing him like this. But then suddenly she got the feeling she had. How long ago, she couldn't tell. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her again. But the feeling was still there. Déjà vu.

And it probably didn't help that it felt good, the way his lips were slowly traveling down to her neck, nuzzling her skin, kissing it, and Calleigh had to close her eyes and hold on to his hips because suddenly she couldn't even feel her legs. And like he was reading her mind again, Eric tightened his hold around her to keep her steady, his lips swiftly moving to the other side of her neck like he somehow knew how much she hated asymmetry.

"Eric," she suddenly whispered, surprised she could even speak.

"Hmm?"

Calleigh had to take a couple of breaths before she replied, once again forgetting what, exactly, she had been trying to say. "I'm sweaty."

"Don't care," he murmured against her cheek.

Calleigh didn't know if it was the sincerity, his raspy voice or the heat, but suddenly 'don't care' became the best and most eloquent argument she'd heard in her life.

Knowing there was no turning back now, her hand rested on the back of his neck and there were no warning thoughts or alarm bells as she pulled him close to her. The first kiss was lazy, lips barely pressed together, noses nuzzling. The chills she felt at the touch suddenly made her feel cold. And then felt hot again when his hands started teetering on the edge of her tank top, feather touches on her skin, feeling it shiver. He was teasing her, or maybe giving her a chance to stop him, but she found herself teasing back, trying to beat him in his own game.

Eric pulled back slightly to kiss both cheeks as a finger under her chin dipped her head back. His lips descended on hers again, but the gentleness of the first kiss was gone. This one started out a little more urgent, quickly moving into a quick tempo, almost like it had been waiting to break the surface for years and was finally free. Calleigh felt his tongue lick her lower lip and it was all she needed to open her mouth to his willingly, and that was it. There was no way she would be able to live without this again. One taste and she was addicted. Wanted more. Needed more and suddenly she damned their height difference, because even on her tip toes she wasn't quite tall enough for him.

She heard herself complaining when he tried to end the kiss, but he smiled into her lips and opened his mouth, allowing her to taste the lemon tang that still dwelled inside before their tongues began to tango. One of them moaned, neither of them knew who, exactly, and suddenly things went from quick to nearly frantic. His hand tangled itself in her hair, pulling her closer, teeth nearly grazing, and for a moment Calleigh thought he was going to devour her. She figured they would both go down fighting because she found herself giving as much as she was taking.

Eric bit her lower lip and a low moan escaped her, encouraging him to go further. His free arm snaked around her waist and he pressed her to his body, as hard as he could without breaking any bones, wishing he could just weld their bodies together but the closer he felt her, the closer he wanted her. Physiologically impossible, but probability was the last thing on his mind. Another moan from her, almost like she was in pain and if it wasn’t for the way she ran her hands down his back and underneath his shirt, Eric would've assumed he was hurting her.

She broke away the kiss to trace her lips down his neck and at that moment it dawned on Eric... he was kissing Calleigh Duquesne. And not innocently either, lips bruising each other, tongues tasting messily and it just didn’t seem real. Couldn't be real. This wasn't the Calleigh Duquesne he knew and alarm bells immediately went off.

"Calleigh," he said, came out ragged and raw. She didn't respond, but rather bit the skin on his neck neither roughly nor gently, making his mind go blank for what seemed like hours. When he came to, he called her name again to make sure and he received a response this time.

"What?" she panted.

"Do you know what we’re doing?"

She pulled back and looked him in the eyes, playful smile on her face before she kissed him briefly. "Yeah. Why? Weren't you a Biology major?"

He chuckled, and mumbled between lazy kisses, "I just wanna make sure. I- I don't want you to think I came here to—"

"I know you didn't," she silenced him.

He was blown away by the honesty in her voice. Parted their lips and rested his forehead to hers so he could look her in the eyes. "Well, everyone at work thinks—"

"Yeah, I know you better than that." She smiled and his heart must have skipped seven beats, because it wasn't until she pressed her lips to his again that Eric remembered where he was and what was happening. He was kissing Calleigh Duquesne and she tasted heavenly, all sugary and hot, and not only was she kissing him back, but she had just pretty much told him she wanted him, too.

He was expecting to wake up at any moment now.

Cheers and applause and fireworks were going off in his head when Eric felt her nails scraping on his stomach softly but his shirt suddenly became an imposition. Calleigh began to tug at it and he let go of her only to get rid of a suddenly annoying shirt, and his lips were on hers again before the white tee hit the floor. Her hands were now free to explore, to feel, to get to know the skin only her eyes had been able to trace before today. His skin was glistening with sweat but for the first time in her life sweat wasn't disgusting. If it was possible, it was turning her on even more, the way his muscles jumped whenever she touched him, wherever she touched him, knowing she could make his body do those kinds of things. It was empowering.

In the blink of an eye, she felt her own shirt being pulled over her head and it joined his in a pile on the floor. His hands began to roam as well, but got bored easily and one of them sneaked under a tiny wire fence and made it into her bra, thumb grazing over her nipple and Calleigh wished she could've stopped the gasp that escaped her regardless of her reservations, because she was sure it made her sound a little weak.

And it quickly dawned on her that she was standing in her living room, biting and nibbling on Eric's lower lip, Eric her friend, while his hand was inside her bra, kneading her breast and pinching her nipple without any shame whatsoever. And enjoying this, so much she had to break away the kiss because it was getting hard to breathe. But then it was hard to breathe without him kissing her anyway, and she had to wrap her arms around his neck to prevent from falling. But the heat didn't seem to faze Eric.

His lips became obsessed with the skin over her collarbone but his back protested quickly. Too short. Left hand sneaked out of her bra and joined his right hand on a journey down her back, settled on her buttocks and lifted her up. Calleigh wrapped her legs around his waist and yeah, this was much better, seeing him at eye level, loving the way his eyes seemed to have changed to a much darker color, marveling at his strength, loving the way his muscles hardened from the weight.

He began to walk towards her bedroom, hard to concentrate on the obstacle course while Calleigh's lips grazed on his neck. He stopped along the way to press her against the wall and relieve some of the weight, and the way she moaned at it made his knees weak. If he'd had just a bit less self control he would have fallen right there, but years of experience mixed with countless hours of exercise had nurtured the strength he needed. He wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer, though, not when Calleigh was biting on his neck, his earlobe, her hands all over his chest and back. Got a second wind and made it to her bedroom, finally. He tried to gently place her on her bed but they both fell onto it and chuckled together before his body pressed down on hers.

His mouth found hers again and Calleigh quickly thought she had never felt so much passion before, so much heat. She didn't know if it was just him or his heritage or what, but she certainly never felt like this with John or the parade of boyfriends that came before him. Sex had always been either a burden or a quick and messy relief, never this hurricane of emotions she was feeling with Eric. And normally she would try to be prude, let the man do the work, lay back and just look pretty, but this time she couldn't help participating as much as Eric, touching, kissing, licking and to hell with decorum. Decorum couldn't possibly do the things Eric was doing with his tongue right now and if it could she didn't wanna know about it.

Eric reached under her, trying to unclasp her bra but was having a bit of a hard time with it. Calleigh moved his hands out of the way to unclasp it herself, suddenly a bit embarrassed by how wet with sweat her bra was but considering the way Eric carelessly threw it to the side, missing the open window by mere inches, she figured he didn't care. His mouth began to alternatively suck on her neck and graze her skin with his teeth, and feeling his bare chest pressed to hers made Calleigh shiver, feeling his weight on her, feeling his erection pressing to her thigh... It threw her off for a moment, the fact that this was Eric and they had never known each other this intimately before. And they were about to cross that line now, there would be no turning back and she was sure it was going to change things between them. But then it felt so right, so familiar, having him there in her bed, that she wouldn’t have been able to stop him even if she tried.

Her eyes closed and her breath caught in her throat when his hand closed in on one of her breasts. It was hard to think or even articulate a whole sentence, the only thing she found she could say was his name, or at least what she thought was his name. It didn't matter, because when she moaned it out loud, he silenced her with a kiss, starting his ride down again from her cheek, his mouth bit on her neck, kissed its way down her chest, without stopping, until it finally found a hard breast.

Eric bit down on the areola gently as his tongue teased the nipple, and Calleigh found the little control she had left over her body was suddenly gone. Her hand rested on the back of his neck and damn his new hair cut, because suddenly she wished she could pull his hair. Her other hand began to search for him but he was down too low, his tongue exploring the valley between her breasts, his breath on her skin making her shiver. He teased her again, biting the other nipple just a little harder and Calleigh was sure there were going to be bruises there in the morning but she didn’t care.

"Eric," she moaned but he didn't seem to be paying much attention to her. Instead, he lashed his tongue around her breast before he bit the nipple again, knowing that was getting a stronger reaction than anything else. "Oh, God."

Eric chuckled against her skin and she took the opportunity to pull him up. Lips found each other again in a messy kiss and his hands caressed her abdomen until they found the edge of her shorts. Suddenly nervous fingers unclasped the button, pulled the zipper down and with her help, pushed the shorts lower until he heard them hit the carpet, panties conveniently tangled up in them.

Calleigh was completely naked now, pressed under him, glowing with sweat and it nearly blew Eric's mind. He was still waiting to wake up. Any minute now. Calleigh wasn't helping, either, her body arching up to his expectantly, her tongue licking his lips, legs tangled all up in a mess. Add the scorching heat and at that moment he became convinced this really was a damn dream. He knew he was supposed to get her to pinch him and that would wake him up but he broke the kiss and bit her earlobe instead. Wake up? Yeah, like he was gonna let that happen.

"You’re so fucking hot," he groaned into her ear and Calleigh moaned instantly. Had she known Eric could make any vulgarity sound so sexy, she would've encouraged him to swear the second she met him.

Lips joined again as Eric's hand moved conspicuously low, ignoring everything in its path and finding the swollen nub between her legs. Without even asking her permission, he stroked it gently, eliciting a louder moan from her, almost a cry. She was so wet and breathing so hard that suddenly his pants seemed to have shrunk at least three sizes. He didn't care, though. Seeing Calleigh struggling to keep her breathing steady, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, her body arching up was suddenly compensation enough. His mouth found a hard nipple as he slid a finger inside of her. A louder moan, accompanied by panting, groaning joining the concert when a second finger joined the first one. He could hear her calling his name, but mostly felt her body shudder, barely, trying to stay in control. That went all to hell when he pushed a third finger inside of her, his thumb massaging slowly, trying to drive her crazy. He picked up the tempo, stroking and pushing in and out of her and it didn't take long. Her nails dug into his skin and she cried out, but not as loud as he had wanted.

Eric's face hovered over hers, a pleased smile pasted on it. If her skin had been pink before, it was all red now, her cheeks flushed and for a brief second he worried. Maybe he should go get some water? He knew he was just on the brink of dehydration himself, little droplets of sweat sliding down his nose and onto her cheek. But Calleigh opened her eyes and smiled at him, and yeah, to hell with water, he could wait. If anything, the near death experience would make things more exciting.

Wordlessly, her lips came up to claim his own as her hands came back to life and began to unbuckle his belt, didn't even bother with it and undid the button and zipper before pulling his pants down as far as she could with her feet, Eric withering out of them the rest of the way, kicking his shoes to the carpet with it.

With a strength she didn't know she had, she forced him to flip over and found herself straddling his thighs. Her hands pinned his wrists down next to his head and she bent down to kiss him. Feeling him hard underneath her, feeling great for having control now, she rubbed her pelvis down against his to tease him, getting a moan in return. Did it again and he broke the kiss this time, struggling to breathe and free his hands at the same time.

"Uh uh," she teased, mischievous smile on her face and loving the way he was at her mercy.

"After I was so kind to you," he grunted, still struggling to breathe, his hip buckling up instinctively, a smile appearing on his face when he heard her laugh. Her face suddenly disappeared and he felt her mouth on his neck, tasting salty skin, biting it. Felt her tongue on his nipple, a smile pressed onto his chest, blonde hair tickling his skin.

She got bored easily, though, distracted by the bulge in his boxers instead. Her eyes widened briefly.

Big hands, big feet... yeah, she should've figured, but that didn't stop a mischievous smile from adorning her face. Eric suddenly looked at her smugly but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Swiftly, she sneaked her hand inside until she found what she was looking for, ran her hand up and down his shaft and squeezed it devilishly.

"Shit, Calleigh!" Eric grunted loudly, throwing his head back, his body jumping. "Warn me before you do that."

Calleigh chuckled and began to stroke him slowly, thumb spreading a drop of pre cum around the head, knowing she was torturing him but she loved it, seeing that look on his face, knowing he was completely vulnerable under her. Her other hand began to tug his boxers down and he opened his eyes briefly just to help her.

He was completely naked now, and that only seemed to encourage her to take her sweet time, stroke slower as she kissed his lips, neck, chest and Eric... had to stop her. Really, heat wasn't a very good asset during sex and their first time together... well, he didn't want it to be embarrassing.

But that didn't seem to throw her off. She sat up again, taking his hard cock in her hands to press it against her, slowly, began to sink herself in, deeper and deeper and Eric had to close his eyes and concentrate because suddenly this was way too intense, felt like a teenage boy with absolutely no self-control. And the sight of Calleigh Duquesne on top of him, eyes closed, tiny moans escaping her throat as she pretty much used him to fuck herself...

It had to be a dream. It just had to be.

Calleigh looked at him through the haze. His eyes were closed, his mouth partially opened and he had never looked so beautiful to her before. He was handsome, of course. A blind person could see that. But at that moment, he was also beautiful. Sexy. Calleigh couldn't believe she had never noticed how sexy Eric was.

Her hips began to rock slowly but he stopped her, his hands holding her hips steadily. Calleigh smiled, leaned in and kissed him. "Are you okay?"

"Just give me a moment," Eric said, out of breath, suddenly realizing how embarrassing this was but she didn't seem to mind and that was a big relief.

He hugged her hips and elevated his and her body to a sitting position, eliciting a moan from her and it took all of his strength not to come right there, without even starting anything. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and began to kiss him, a bit needy, and he had to stop that, too. He had never felt this before, this out of control before, this weakness. If he hadn't known any better, he would've assumed she slipped something in that lemonade, because suddenly he felt drunk, high. Usually with the other girls, he was in charge; he was the show off, the king.

Not so much now when his mind kept telling him this was Calleigh. Not just another casual fuck, another body. Calleigh Duquesne. A woman who was so far above him he shouldn't even be breathing the same air as her. A woman so perfect he would probably spend the rest of his life wondering how this moment was even possible. He had dreamed about this so many times, had pictured it in his mind so often, but that was different. In his fantasies, everything went perfectly, according to plan. In his dreams she worshipped him. But this wasn't a dream. This was the woman he had wanted for nearly five years and she was real and willing and looking even more beautiful (if it was even possible) without any clothes on. Leave it to Calleigh to blow his mind when he thought she couldn't possibly reach a whole new level of perfection.

So really. No pressure.

He rested his forehead to hers, smoothing the sticky hair away from her sweaty face, and she was breathing heavily, air flowing into his mouth. "You’re so beautiful."

"Eric," she moaned, her urgent tone letting him know she couldn’t hold herself back any longer, she needed to move.

So he kissed the nape of her neck, feeling another moan trembling through her throat. He moved first, giving her the green light and her body began to move as well, slowly, torturing. After making sure he had his body under control, Eric grabbed her buttocks, helping her along, and it amazed him how well and how quietly their bodies moved together. Had they done this before?

Calleigh moaned, wondering how long they could keep this slow tempo because as great as it felt, it was also a bit torturing. Not very long, apparently, because her body began to rock faster without her approving that, nails scratching on his sweaty back and her mind briefly let her know that would sting him later and he would have to sleep on his stomach, but he didn't seem care and neither would she.

Eric grinded his body up to hers, and he had liked the slow ballad, really, but he found this much more enjoyable, because he rarely got to see Calleigh losing control like she was doing now, without any pretenses, without any masks. Just Calleigh, letting her body take over, ignoring her mind and its prejudices, squeezing him with her internal muscles, shamelessly begging him to go faster, deeper, her voice so ragged he had to concentrate and regain control of his body again, because he was pretty sure this was the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his pathetic life.

Eric only knew one thing at that moment: wherever John Hagen was, he was a fucking fool.

She suddenly threw her head back and he took the chance to bite a nipple again, but her body jerked and it escaped him quickly. She began to move faster, and Eric planted one of his hands on the mattress behind him for leverage, but that wasn't helping much. The backboard seemed too far away and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back any longer. And he also knew Calleigh wasn’t gonna like this but she would just have to deal with it. Grabbing her thighs, he flipped her over, pinning her down on the bed and sure enough, she protested immediately.

"Eric!"

"Next time," he grunted, starting to rock again on top of her and she looked at him with a defying look in her eyes.

"What makes you think there's gonna be a next time?" she panted, teasing and he chuckled, but it quickly turned into a grunt when she wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him to bury himself deeper into her.

Eric grabbed her wrists, pinned them down over her head with one hand and he expected her to protest again, but surprisingly, she didn't. His other hand searched low between her legs, knowing heat was working as an accelerant and there was no time to lose. His thumb began to rub her swollen nub again and she moaned so loudly he thought the whole of Miami could hear her but he didn't care. He had Calleigh Duquesne writhing under him and he liked what he was hearing and his ego wished she'd scream louder so the whole damn world could hear her.

Wasn't long before her body began to shudder again and he let go of her hands quickly. They came to rest on his buttocks, trying to pull him in deeper, nails digging into his skin as her body shook harder and she moaned in pleasure. Suddenly her eyes closed, her forehead wrinkled and Eric was sure he had never seen anything so beautiful before. She cried louder and louder and Eric moved faster, trying to make this moment unforgettable for her, trying to make her orgasm last as long as he could, even if he gave himself a heart attack in the process. Didn't matter. Dying inside of Calleigh Duquesne was certainly what he considered 'dying happy', especially if the last thing he got to hear was her crying his name in pleasure.

Her orgasm washed through her and her body quakes died away, and in her delirium she moaned, "Eric," in that Southern accent that drove him insane and that was it. He felt himself losing control, saw stars and the heavens on the back of his eyelids before he came inside of her, burying his face on her neck, waiting for the after tremors to pass.

Finally had to pull himself out and off her because the heat was making it too hard to breathe. Calleigh was still panting slightly next to him, her eyes partly closed. It wasn't until that moment that Eric realized he was pretty much soaked with sweat, and so was she, and so were the sheets.

He also realized this, right now, was the part he hated the most. The moment when the awkwardness would rear its ugly head. Time for the mind to return to the body and deal with the consequences. She was gonna throw him out. She was gonna slam the door in his face and never talk to him again. She was gonna quit her job and move to another city and he would never see her again and all because once again, he had been too busy thinking with his cock and not his head.

Not so much, though, when he felt her lips pressed to his neck, cheek, and lips again. She was smiling lazily but her eyes were bright and playful. Thank God. Her hair was such a mess Eric had to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

He didn't reply, just smoothed her wet hair away from her face and kissed her lips tenderly. She sighed and stood up, using his body as leverage and he groaned lazily. "Where are you going?"

She stopped in the middle of the room and looked at him questioningly. "Do you really think I'm gonna stay here when you've got central air in your condo?"

Eric grinned victoriously, crossed his arms under his head, and looked around the room as she wrapped a bathrobe around her body. "So this is hell, huh?"

"Yes."

Eric nodded. "I could get used to it."

Calleigh chuckled and shook her head, grabbed a bag from the bottom of her closet and threw it at his face.

"The hell?!"

"Pack my things," Calleigh said.

Eric sat up, his muscles protesting. "Where are you doing?"

"Shower."

He smiled. "Can I come?"

Calleigh stopped and looked at him amusedly, trying not to laugh, but a few chuckles escaped her anyway.

Eric shrugged his shoulders cheekily. "What can I say, I recover quickly."

"I can see that," Calleigh said. "No shower. Call somebody and have them go into your condo to turn the AC all the way up. If I have to stay five minutes longer in this heat I am going to die."

"Yeah, about that..." Eric said humorously. "Did I mention my air conditioner isn't working either?"

He closed his eyes and didn't react when a shoe flew from across the room and hit him in the head.


Fin