alwaysright | November 8

November 8

Foreman grunted and shifted when Amber prodded him awake and led him to bed. He woke up enough to strip down to his boxers and slide between the fresh sheets with her, but hardly conscious enough to get smug that she'd invited him back into her bed. Definitely not awake enough to think through the implications--such as the fact that he didn't have any clean clothes at Amber's apartment, they still had to show up at work the next day even without a case, and Amber had a habit of waking up earlier than him, not only because she took more time in the mornings, but because she lived further from the hospital.

Falling asleep, once again with his arm tucked close around Amber's waist and her hips cradled in front of his, Foreman didn't spend any energy on a plan for the next day. When Amber's alarm clock went off, it felt far too soon, and Foreman groaned a low protest. Amber was warm, and though they must have shifted in the night, Foreman was still able to wriggle a fraction of an inch closer and press against her back again. He didn't want to wake up. Easier to ignore the alarm clock and nuzzle closer to the scent of Amber's nape, his mouth brushing against the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

He'd been dreaming. Something confused, fading already, although the effects of it were still apparent. A low thread of pleasure twined through his body, tingling, and keeping him very happily where he was. Foreman shifted again, all but unconscious, rocking his hips forward against Amber's ass in one slow, light press. God, she felt good. Foreman stretched, long and luxurious, rolling his shoulders and pointing his toes. Soon she'd disappear. Leap up at the bleep of the clock. Tell him to lay off and go slow. But until she pushed him away, he was going to see just where the boundary line lay. He couldn't possibly be held responsible for how she turned him on in his sleep.

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Six thirty and that familiar ring; Amber jolted awake. Thanks to all her medical training, having to be ready and alert at a moment's notice, she was fully awake within a second. They'd gone to bed early anyway, making up for days of overworking. She reached out and off went the alarm's lights and noise.

It was pre-dawn dark. Amber stretched, every movement a reminder of whom was with her. Eric. As if having him draped him around her all night long wouldn't have been reminder enough. Head hazy, Amber curled into him, nestling into his embrace just as he pressed into her; hooked her foot around his. Fuck but it was amazing to wake up like this, surrounded by his scent, heated by him. Even before opening her eyes had Amber felt a warm, tingly buzz demanding more. It'd been days since they'd had sex and after lying all night with him, Amber was all too aware of how much she'd missed him.

Why not? It was early and it wasn't as if House would want to work today. It was as easy as rolling onto him, pinning Eric down with her body, legs and arms on either side of him. Amber smiled wolfishly, rubbing into him, smooth skin sliding against smooth skin. She'd discarded her sweater and pants before climbing into bed and now she was grateful for it, growing hotter at the direct contact. Eric was looking up blearily as if he hadn't quite yet figured out how to be conscious; she thrust her hip. Maybe that'd remind him. To help him out even more, Amber nuzzled his sharp-stubbly jaw. "Morning, Eric," she breathed between kisses. She wanted this. She wanted him. Going slow was officially off the menu.

Foreman let out a low sound somewhere between a moan and a grunt as Amber abruptly rolled over. With half his mind, all that was online at this hour, he figured that was it, she was pushing him off, except a second later Amber had him spread-eagled, her slim weight holding him down. Foreman blinked, trying to see her properly in the room's darkness. Amber was barely more than a shadow, but the sudden press of her lips was unmistakeable. Foreman inhaled sharply. The roll of her hips against his, and another kiss, were all conspiring to spur on his arousal. "Amber..." He managed to kiss her back, this time. She was all over him, pressing light kisses against his jaw, undulating against him. Oh, God. He hummed in the back of his throat, lifting his head off the pillow to answer another kiss. Physically, the languid, sleepy desire was spreading through his body, already hot from their shared warmth, speeding his heart. At the same time, he couldn't quite orient himself or shake off the last of his sleepiness.

Without thinking, Foreman stroked his hands down Amber's back, his palms broad and hot, holding her close. Her shirt was light and brief, and past that, there was only the thin barrier of her panties and his shorts between them. His dick already felt heavy, more than happy with the friction and the lingering effect of his dream. His hands were under her shirt now, fingertips moving along her spine, and Foreman couldn't remember when that had happened. No bra. Jesus, he wanted to grab her ass, yank her against him, feel more. He kissed her again, trying to capture her mouth for longer than Amber's quick, darting attention would allow.

He finally wrenched his attention away from Amber for long enough to take in the time. Just after 6:30. Weekday. Work. "You, uh--" Another kiss. "Mmn--Amber--we have to get up...?" Hard to even ask the question. You sure? After being being told to cool his heels so often, Amber's sudden rush left him barely able to keep up.

Eric's mouth covered hers, hot and slow but deliciously needy. As if even in his sleep he knew where his priorities lay and it was with touching her. Hot. Almost as hot as his whispering her name like he was hers no matter what. Amber licked Eric's lips, deliberate at first, indulging his sleepy pace even as the thud of her blood demanded more and faster. Her hips obeyed her own beat, rocking steadily. Pleasure already rushed through her, the satisfaction of delayed fucking.

The joke was almost too obvious, but how could she let the chance pass by? "How about only you get up," Amber teased. Eric could hide nothing from her between their thin cotton layers, especially not the way she was indulging rubbing into him; his nascent erection was already proving stimulating. It’d feel so good to fist him into full hardness and sink onto him and fuck til they came; just the thought of it got her wetter.

"We can get there a little late," Amber murmured. "Day after a case...." If House did catch them-- and that was a huge if-- then he'd most likely delight in the chance to mock Eric and question Amber's work ethics. It'd be different. House liked different, it intrigued him. This could become a feather in her cap. But Amber didn't want to think about House, much less mention him to Eric, since it’d kill the mood in a single blow. Better to kiss again, this time penetrating Eric’s mouth with her tongue, reveling in how her head swam; better to shudder at his caresses, surrendering a light moan.

The longer Amber's insistent ministrations continued, the more awake and eager Foreman felt. Along with the growing pleasure of Amber rubbing against his dick, he was starting to grin with self-satisfaction, returning Amber's kisses with a soft, almost laughing, smugness. This was the last thing he'd expected, if he'd expected anything last night past relaxing with Amber. She hadn't kicked him out to make his own way home. She hadn't banished him from her bed. And now she was moaning, kissing him deeper, twining their tongues together, arching into his touch. Making excuses not to go to work. Foreman had a brief moment of compunction--he didn't want to walk into Diagnostics late, together, and clearly fresh from fucking--but when Amber kissed him hard and deep, the thought vanished. He caught her lower lip and sucked, hands on her shoulders grasping her tightly enough to keep her close. "Yeah," he said breathlessly when it ended. Yeah, fine. More than fine. He'd made the token objection; now all he wanted was full-steam ahead.

Or nearly. Now that Amber so clearly wanted him, Foreman couldn't help an amused thought: revenge. He'd been massaging her shoulders under her shirt, and he was starting to lift his hips to match her rhythm, but as long as they were going to be late, they might as well make it worth it. Slipping his hands out of Amber's shirt, Foreman palmed her ass briefly, groaning quietly at the increased pressure, and then he started exploring, as lightly as he could. Fingertips brushing her inner thighs, faint as feather strokes. Teasing, tingling. Bringing up his forefinger to trace a line along the damp cotton of her panties. If those weren't in the way, it would be so easy to slide his forefinger inside her, feel the tight slippery heat of her. Instead, Foreman taunted her through the material, brushing his finger back and forth, all while kissing her as deeply as she liked. His eyes squeezed shut, and he was already breathing quicker--fuck, Amber must be incredibly wet, for him to be able to feel it already--and the thought of using a finger, more than a finger, was turning him on so badly.

"Take your shirt off," he said, lifting his chin to break their deep kiss. His voice was dark and rough. Demanding. The room was dark but his eyes were adjusted, and there was enough grey light coming in through the window that he'd be able to see the silvered outline of Amber's body, and he wanted to. Amber was already on top, but Foreman could admit to himself that it'd be so fucking hot to see her rush to obey him...if she would.

Amber only just stifled a gasp as Eric stroked her entrance as more a passing thought than a caress; she ground down harder involuntarily. He could finger-tease her all he wanted but she doubted he'd skirt his own pleasure. His dick's growing hardness told her all she needed to know, if the stronger odor his sweat and his languid groans hadn’t been informative enough. Dr. Eric Foreman was awake and willing to serve.

She was aroused enough to lose track of the details, swept up as she was in a wave of desire. All she knew was that she felt good and that she wanted more. Wanted Eric to lose himself too. Amber palmed along his ribcage, massaging his smooth skin; felt him speak with her fingers, his chest thrumming with his voice. Right, shirt off. Made sense. Without it Eric could touch more of her. Amber did love it when he pinched her nipples and maybe he could do that thing with his mouth-- she sat up abruptly, hips still undulating, and ripped her shirt over her head. "Better?" she purred.

As long as she was up, she might as well deal with some other things too. She leaned towards her bed stand, pawing in the darkness to find the drawer's knob. There were some clattering and rolling sounds as she yanked the drawer open; probably one of the lube bottles had fallen over. Never mind. She blindly grasped a bunch of condoms and dumped them nearby, to be easily grabbed when the time came. After years of fucking protection was primary instinct.

"Excuse the interruption," Amber said huskily, straightening herself over Eric once more. Running her hands down his arms, she found his hands and clasped them. "I believe this is what you were hoping for?" She made his fingers splay over her breasts; obvious, yes, but Amber wouldn't put it past him to tease her if given half the chance.

Amber sat up immediately, her lithe body extending as she tore her shirt over her head. Foreman all but stopped breathing. So gorgeous. Not just at the sight of her, the soft line of her stomach and the curve of her breasts, and the way a tendril of hair fell across her face as she stared at him provocatively, challenging him, but at the way she'd done what he'd asked.

"Yeah." Foreman gripped her thighs and urged her closer, even as she stretched to the side of the bed to bring out a handful of condoms--Jesus, was she planning on holding him captive in her bed all day? Even that thought didn't so much as give him pause. When Amber moulded his palms against her breasts, Foreman was already sitting up, tensing his abs so that he could kiss Amber's collarbone at the same time that his hands tightened. Massaging her breasts, hands firm, he scraped his beard over her skin, not bothering anymore with the tease. His teeth were sharp, his tongue hot and insistent, and the more he kissed her, the more his dick strained against the front of his boxers. The throb of excitement low in his stomach was becoming difficult to ignore--he wanted her hands, squeezing him through the cotton; her mouth, poised to taunt him.

Not yet. Not when, for the first time in what felt like too long, he'd seen Amber act freely on his desire instead of hers. "As a matter of fact," he said, as conversationally as he could manage despite the arousal-heavy huskiness in his voice, "I was hoping for a lot more than that." Before she could ask what that meant, Foreman slipped his hands around to her back, supporting her shoulders, as he rolled over her. Lying between her hips, he pushed his erection against her stomach. His forearms were trapped underneath her back, keeping him as close as possible. Foreman glanced into her face before he bent to take her right nipple in his mouth, giving over all his attention to sucking it before he caught it, gently, between his teeth. "'S okay?" he muttered against her sternum, as he pushed against her again, and traced a path of kisses across to her other breast.

"Unhh," Amber breathed, closing her eyes to Eric's onslaught, doing everything to her, licking, biting, wrapping her close to him. She couldn't not undulate, hips buckling and her shoulders squeezing tight together; Amber cradled the base of Eric's head, guiding him to keep on what he was doing. Felt so, so impossibly good. "Eric," she moaned, arching. Her nerves tingled, oversensitive.

She would've been happy to spend hours like that, with Eric worshipping her breasts and maybe a slight shift to let herself slide onto his dick. Amber had reached a point where she didn't care much about plans; all she wanted was to keep the pleasure coming and growing. Eric, however, seemed filled with initiative: his sudden turn that turned her world upside down was unexpected, but it was exciting too, having him covering her with his body. It gave her something to fight against, like a wrestling match.

Amber did love a fight. With a naughty grin, she surged up as he came down, the movement both sexual play and rebellion. She preferred being on top but not to the point where she couldn't tolerate fucking any other way; besides, with the direction Eric was taking, dipping to suck at her breast again, it seemed he was set on spoiling her. Who was she to turn away such an offer? "Did you, Dr. Foreman," Amber asked between pants. She couldn't have kept her voice level even if she'd cared to. She propped herself up on her elbows to get a better view of whatever Eric ended up doing and raised her hip, trying without much success to rub her crotch against something. At this rate she'd need to take matters into her own hands, literally. "What did you have in mind?"

Foreman groaned in the back of his throat as Amber held him tightly to her breast. The sound of his name, the catch in Amber's breathing as she lifted up towards him, aroused him like not even her touch could. With complete ease, he used his weight to keep Amber under him, where he could touch and kiss every part of her. He grinned brilliantly back at Amber, lifting his face long enough to see that she was enjoying herself, he hadn't overstepped the bounds by getting on top. Oh, yeah. Good. No sign that she was letting this happen--she wanted it, wanted it almost as much as he did, and Foreman drew his mouth over Amber's breast again, giving in to her implicit begging.

He didn't have anything in mind, but, with a low laugh, Foreman stopped himself from saying, Whatever you want. He hadn't thought that far ahead, but he wasn't going to give up the lead yet. Just having Amber pliant under his touch, interested in--not to put too fine a point on it--his input, made him remember that they hadn't always wrangled about control issues. The truth was, Foreman didn't know what triggered them for Amber. He had a general idea, but not the specifics. What made her stop him and push away and get defensive. Some things, he could do, like roll her over and loom over her; but not, he remembered from their time in the gym change room, grab her wrists. Suck and lick at her breasts--Amber would moan, push towards him, almost beg him to keep going for as long as he wanted, which was more than fine by him, but if he went down on her, Amber would freeze up, close off, leave him with his left hand and his hard-on. Maybe someday she'd let him, but Foreman didn't want to make their first time since the fight into a trial, or risk it ending wrong.

Pulling his arms out from under Amber's shoulders, Foreman started kissing below her breasts, sucking hard enough to bring blood to the surface of her skin. "Getting to know you," he said. She'd said that last night, hadn't she? That they couldn't trust each other until they got to know each other better. Foreman wasn't about to break the rules, but he was interested in how close he could get. He stroked his hand along Amber's thigh, then brought his hand up to her panties--oh God--the scent of her was heavy in the air, and he was so close--he'd fucking love to taste her, but he wouldn't. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of her panties instead, and started stroking firmly. "Take these off," he suggested, words only slightly muffled by his random trail of kisses along the soft skin of Amber's stomach.

Morning's first light filled the room tentatively, gray and fuzzy but more than enough to reveal the smug curve of Eric's smile before he bent his head again and then he could've been wearing a clown's mask for all Amber cared, as long as he didn't stop, the wet pressure from his lips drawing more moans from her.

Even through the fog of desire Amber was disappointed Eric didn't list anything specific. Going into this, she'd had a firm idea of what they should do: get off quickly and then off to work. She could be riding him already. This dedicated, meticulous exploration of her body was fine and dandy when they had hours ahead of them, but the room was growing only brighter and brighter-- and yet she couldn't bring herself to cut the pleasure short either. The soles of her feet rubbed against the sheets in her impatience and excitement.

Take these off. That sounded kinda strange. And it hadn't registered at the time, but he'd told her to take her shirt off too, hadn't he? But whatever, she'd wanted her clothes off anyway and with his finger teasing her vulva just right, like he'd been trained in the art of Getting Amber Horny, she frankly didn't care. Amber hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties, lifting her ass to peel them down her thighs and legs.

They'd long since abandoned the covers, relying on each other's heat to ward off the early coolness. Now completely bare, Amber felt the draught, her nipples hardening and her skin breaking out into goosebumps; if she was going to be naked, she wanted more than just Eric's breath over her pussy. "You want to get to know me?" she asked, coy. If he wanted to take his sweet time and taste every square inch of her, then he could finish what he'd started. Her fingers, so far only grasping at the covers, were cold, and she gasped as she probed her entrance. She was wetter than she'd realized. Amber touched only enough to get her fingertip glistening with moisture, then offered it to Eric, holding it before his mouth. He loved this, she knew. "Go for it." Once more she raised her hips, suggestively. The last time he'd gone down on her, it'd been amazing, almost unbearably so. Maybe it was from the relief of still having him in her life, but she wanted him to bring her to that brink again; if they were going to be late, they might as well be late in style.

God, the way Amber was listening to him shouldn't be nearly this hot. A brief thought flashed across Foreman's mind--that he was using her willingness now to make up for her refusal to acknowledge her part in their fight, not to mention for last night, when she'd only agreed to be with him on her terms. But she wanted him, he wasn't inventing that. He wasn't forcing anything. And how often would their desires overlap this way? Amber's movements were abrupt and eager as she wriggled out of her panties. And there was something all the more titillating about the fact that he was still wearing his boxers while she was naked for him. If that worked for him, if it sent a surge of arousal through him and left him even stiffer than he had been, then that was a good thing, it only showed they were good together.

With a smile, Foreman closed his mouth around Amber's finger and sucked gently, meeting her eyes now that there was enough light in the room to see her properly. His tongue swirled around her knuckle, and then he pulled back. "Mmn-hmm, I want you," he murmured. "Always want you." Sitting up on his knees, he worked his shorts off his hips and threw them over the side of the bed. It wasn't really about holding back, keeping this on his timeline; he'd have to get naked eventually. The air was a little cool, but that felt all the better against his skin. So fucking hot, seeing Amber waiting for him, knowing she wanted him to go down on her when she'd stopped him before. Foreman's shoulders bunched as he propped himself up just right, and he lowered his mouth to her vulva.

Just because he wanted Amber on his own terms didn't mean he hadn't forgotten how she wanted this. Light flicks, and then, deeper touches lower down. The scent of her filled Foreman's nostrils, and he enjoyed the taste of her, rubbing the tip of his tongue inside her vagina. He couldn't help his groan, or shifting more to his right side so that he could run his hand down to stroke his cock. Pleasure rocked him, reminding him how much he wanted her. His breath exploded out, even as he concentrated on finding all the places that Amber wanted to feel him. Panting harshly, he couldn't help speaking, whenever he needed to breathe. "God, Amber. Want you so much--" He sucked a bit harder before remembering himself and pulling back. "Want to make you come, baby."

He didn't always want her; he'd turned her down cold-heartedly when she'd invited him over, a couple of a days ago, and made a fuss last night when she'd leaned into him on the couch-- to name only a few of the times he'd spurned her advances. Such a liar. The contrast between his words and actions dampened Amber's arousal and she bent one of her legs tighter and closer to her. Eric probably didn't even know what he was saying; being sex-addled could do that to a brain. She’d lost awareness of her own words, a few times.

He wanted her now, at any rate. It was amazing to watch how turned on he got just by the thought of eating her out, getting more excited by her demand than their kissing or rolling around. He couldn't get his shorts off fast enough, as if he'd need all the freedom his dick could get, and he downright scrambled to get his face back between her legs. Yeah. Amber couldn't help wriggling in anticipation, stretching out her calves and tilting her upper body as much as she could, trying to get the best view possible.

But as much as she'd meant to watch, the moment Eric went down, his breath tickling her mound, his cheeks brushing against her inner thighs, it was a lost cause: Amber fell back, groaning. Her legs spread open of their own accord as something small but firm pressed into her vagina, and she rose into that heat and pressure. Everything, even Eric's groans, seemed to fade away, insignificant compared to waves of pleasure suddenly washing over her. It was so damn much and not enough. So fucking frustrating, to be feeling this incredibly much but all out of her control, needing Eric to take the reigns. "More," she gasped, hands clenching and nails digging into her palm, "Harder--"

Panting hard, Foreman dropped another kiss against Amber's labia, before opening his mouth wider so that he could reach deeper with his tongue. His position was awkward, cramped, weight on his knees and elbows as he propped himself up and cupped Amber's ass to keep himself in place, but he didn't care. Couldn't. Not with his firm grip on his cock, his arousal edging higher and more out of control, all while he was doing everything he could to make Amber moaned. God, she wanted him, wanted this, was asking for it. Giving Foreman the freedom to show her exactly what he could do, how good he could make her feel. It wasn't that he needed this, only that he'd missed it, without even knowing it. He was good; talented, skilled; and to have Amber show that, however implicitly, warmed him, confidence and pleasure and smugness all wrapping together to lift him up on a surge of desire. Foreman grabbed another breath and licked his way deeper, wanting nothing more than to hear Amber moan for him.

She did. Again, and again, and her hips jerked against Foreman's mouth. Hearing her beg was like being jolted by electricity, excitement sweeping across every nerve in his body. Yeah. Oh yeah, come on, honey-- Foreman groaned, pushed himself forward, let Amber move however worked best for her. His chin and cheeks were wet from her, and he thrust his tongue inside over and over, ignoring the ache in his jaw. The thick, salty taste, the heady scent, were all signs that she was loving what he was doing, and they combined, overwhelming his mind and turning him on. More, though, that meant his mouth wasn't, wouldn't be, enough, and Foreman had no intention of getting to the point where more turned into too much. He let go of his dick, but it didn't matter, not when he could drape his arm over Amber's stomach and press his fingertips against her mons, before sliding them lower--God, so wet--and rub them against her clit.

It was all he could do. Amber could writhe against him, whatever felt good for her; pushing up against his fingers or down onto his tongue. Taking everything he was giving. She was using him, what he could do for her, and Foreman fucking loved it.

The only thing keep Amber from shoving up straight into the air, riding the pleasure flooding her, was Eric holding her in place with mouth and hand; even anchored she felt ready to rise and never come back down again. "Ahnnnn," she groaned out, raw, unaccountable for how she writhed. Autumn cold or not, she broke out into a sweat, beads gathering between her breasts, along her collar bone; she burned up.

The previous times Eric had gone down on her, Amber had resisted, not trusting him. The first time it'd made her clam up; the second, it’d added a thrill of fear to her orgasm. This time, she just let go. It was so simple, so easy. She knew now that he knew what he was doing, how to make Amber come so hard she didn't know what to do with herself.

Amber inhaled mid-breath; something harder was pressing against her mons, down her clit. "Oh god, oh Eric--" she said in a rush, blinking, hyperventilating, caught between two incredible sensations, inside and out, and now he really had trapped her. She went back and forth, forth and back, into that sweet, sweet pressure going up her pussy, and against her clit, not thinking, just doing as her instinct demanded. Fucking Eric's fingers and tongue, Amber quickly raised herself to the peak, crying out as she hit it. More than ever she shook, shivering and almost sitting up, quivering all over with orgasm. God, fuck yes, this. For a few seconds she was gone, coming.

She came to falling back onto the mattress, panting with all her might. She could barely move in those few seconds right after, lazily turning her head and legs this and that way as the after-effects squeezed through her. "Mmmnnn," she purred, arching in a stretch. "Nice." If Amber could've been bothered, she'd have lifted her head to direct her glowing smile at the person who'd caused it. "C'mere," was about all that she could manage, commanding him back up huskily.

Yeah. Yeah, yes, so fucking good. Foreman's thoughts tumbled through his head, incoherent and rising on a tide of vindication. This was better, this was what he knew it could have been. Amber, trusting him, her muscles trembling, doing nothing to stop him and everything to take advantage of his mouth, his fingers. The sounds she made, oh fuck, the neediness she had no problem showing. He'd always loved Amber's reactions, how free she was with them, open and honest and so, so arousing. If the price was the times that she stonewalled and stopped him, it was more than made up for by the times when Amber simply--let go, wanted, and took everything she wanted without once thinking of holding back.

Foreman felt it when she came, the quivering, clenching heat, and the rush of wetness against his tongue. He swallowed hard, sucked a little harder, and, panting, dropped his head as Amber recovered, surreptitiously wiping his face with the back of one arm. His body ached with tension, nerves jangling, every breath reminding him of the throb of his erection. They might be late to work, but right now, Foreman didn't give a rat's ass; he wanted to feel Amber, as closely around his cock as she had been around his tongue. Any moment now, before he gave in and stroked himself off out of pure, unadulterated need.

At Amber's invitation, Foreman crawled up the bed, quickly draping himself over her. He was burning, easily absorbing the slight chill in Amber's skin. "God," he said, all but breathless, corralling Amber between his forearms and propping himself up only to the extent of keeping his full weight off her. They were both slick with sweat, and without a thought, Foreman pushed his erection against Amber's stomach. "Ohh. Amber." He lowered his mouth to hers, lightly, floating on the rush of the kiss and the hot, delicious pleasure spiralling out from his cock. "Beautiful," he said, between needy inhales for air and short, deep kisses, still tasting Amber's wetness and licking his way into her mouth to add the sensation of her tongue meeting his. He was nearly out of control and he knew it, but he couldn't stop the quick, shallow thrust of his hips. Friction and heat and most of all, the remembered sound of Amber completely letting go--for him-- "You're--mmn--so good, baby. Love seeing you. Like that."

Amber could only chuckle as Eric scrambled back up, needy beyond the telling of it, panting frantically, all but fucking her then and there. She had no idea how he even held back, going no further than sliding along her stomach. He couldn't even speak in complete sentences. At the same time, she didn't feel his urgency, deliciously sated as she was. It was so easy to peer at him coyly through half-lidded eyes, returning his hot and heavy kisses slowly, like she was sampling exquisite wines. The taste that was strongest, though, was herself, bitter and sticky.

"You think so?" she asked, glowing warmer still with the compliment. Amber ran her hands down his back, massaging him even as she pressed him and his dick to slide harder and faster against her. "You like seeing me come?" she taunted, drawing out her words for maximum effect. Eric was shivering, taunt with the final remnants of his control. "Or you like seeing me fuck?" Amber let that last consonant ring with emphasis, staring straight into his wide, desperate eyes before pushing up and kissing him, plunging her tongue deep into his mouth. Geez, he was covered in her scent. It both confused and aroused her, and Amber found herself rocking her hips more intensely, and not just because of her lingering orgasm.

She trailed her lips over his cheeks and ear. "Whaddya want, Eric?" Her legs wrapped around him, her heels digging into his ass and the base of her spine. "Wanna fuck me?" she whispered loudly, obscenely. It'd drive him crazy, and god she wanted to see that, see him snap as he couldn't take it anymore. "I could fist you so hard, Eric, I could make you see god." He was slippery with sweat, and it wasn't just her odor, she could detect his scent too, and the mixture, it made her gasp, squeezing her eyes. "Or maybe you want your dick in me, 'cause I'm so wet, and you know it'd be good..."

Her right hand patted towards the small pile of condoms she'd dumped onto the bed; something told her that he'd want the fucking and that he wouldn't remember that slight detail of protection. Her left hand, though, trailed down his chest, curved over his pec, and tweaked his nipple, squeezing it between forefinger and thumb. "I'll do anything you want."

Amber's voice, more than her words, made Foreman squeeze his eyes shut and moan. What she was saying--your dick in me, I'm so wet--it was hot as hell, but it was her satiated, purring tone that hit Foreman like a truck. Lips slack, breath harsh and quick, he couldn't maintain the deep kiss that Amber pulled him into. He had no idea in hell how she managed to work him up like this, when all he'd had was his own thrusts between their bodies and the grip of his hand. Now that she had her legs wrapped around him, holding him tight and close, Foreman only wanted to be inside her. You know it'd be good... "Yeah--"

He didn't have time to finish whatever sentence he'd been about to say. Amber pinched his nipple, and the bright, sharp spark surged through his body. Foreman grunted, an explosion of air left his lips, and he pushed, hard, the fire reaching the base of his dick and driving him out of his mind with need. "Oh, fuck--" He couldn't even take in Amber offering him his choice, whatever he wanted; he only wanted one thing, and fast.

Condoms. He had to sit up again to grab one, concentrate long enough not to rip the condom along with the foil, and roll the latex to the base of his cock. The break in the rhythm, and the fiddly details of getting the condom on, gave Foreman time to get his breathing under control and meet Amber's eyes. Daylight was definitely starting to creep into the room. Foreman bent down and kissed Amber, slow and light, for a long second before he settled between her legs again. She was so wet, and, with one hand on his cock, Foreman moved inside her, firm but not fast.

This. This moment. The first instant he was inside, when he could feel the squeeze and tremble of Amber's muscles, feel her heat joined with his. God, she felt so good. Pleasure, building, gripped him, and Foreman's eyes fell shut, but he opened them again, already moving in measured strokes. "Amber, oh honey..." He bent for another quick kiss, trying to show how amazing she was, how much she made him feel. He couldn't sustain the kiss, but he shifted his weight on his elbows and then started thrusting at a new angle, deeper. Still not fast, not out of control; meeting Amber's eyes when he could, and giving in to whatever his body needed.

At lightning speed Eric sat up and Amber smiled at him, smug and satisfied by his drive; smiled harder when he fumbled with tearing the package open. She felt so lazy, like a hammock swinging lightly in the breeze. Turning towards him, she idly waited, carelessly brushing her hand over her mons and inner thighs, reveling in just how wet she’d gotten. She wasn’t along for long; soon he filled the space between her legs again and she got a heady rush; couldn’t resist spreading further, encouraging him as close and snug as possible. Their the kiss was amazing, short and light, and not at all satisfying the need she had for deeper, deeper, deeper.

He penetrated her, steady and smooth, and even as sopping wet and relaxed as she was, he stretched her, making every inch of her cervix thick and intense. Amber shuddered, groaning out. The spasm went up and down all her nerves and muscles, a body-long shake. She'd forgotten how sensitive she could get after oral sex; it was like she'd taken all the pleasure she could and now the excess spilled over. Amber gasped again, arching up as if it'd help, but there it was again, that tingle edging on pain; pulling away was no better. She could not keep Eric's intense gaze, her eyes squeezing shut as her head fell back onto her pillow even as her chest and hips surged upward again, unable to resist the call of Eric moving against her. "Nggggh," she gritted out, helpless against the sensations ripping through her. "Ohh, oh, oh--"

His lips dipped over hers again and her eyes sprang open; she drank him in round short, dry pants. It wasn't enough. Even warring between bliss and hurt, Amber needed more. She kissed him again, tongue pushing into him together with her body, but she couldn't keep it up, not the way her lungs demanded air. She resorted to nipping along his jaw, moaning nonstop all the while, the prick of his stubble against her skin only making her urgency stronger. He was so hot and sweaty and big and all over her and god she was out of control. "Eric," she cried, "Eric."

Foreman couldn't remember feeling better than this moment. Not only the physical drive in his body, the sharp firing of every nerve as he slid as deep as he could, as close to Amber as they could possibly get; but the sheer satisfaction of the entire morning shone even brighter. He'd woken up, slightly turned on, nothing he couldn't have ignored or dealt with on his own if Amber had still been insistent on 'going slow', but instead, from the very first, she'd encouraged him, urged him higher. As much as he wanted her, he felt it all the more sweetly because, whatever Amber's apology had lacked last night, Foreman felt it now, in the way she'd given herself over to him.

And it wasn't that Amber had changed, or given up control more than necessary; it was that Foreman could feel, with every movement and every kiss, that she'd somehow come around to trusting him, more than she had. They hadn't had a single awkward moment, when he wanted one thing and Amber wasn't ready, or when she demanded too much and he hesitated. If Amber had read his mind, she couldn't have done more to bring him to his peak; the fact that she was writhing underneath him, arching up into his every thrust, meant so damn much. Foreman's pace quickened, his breath coming in hot spurts of air. Amber nipped at his jaw, kissed him, short and breathless, and he returned every one, as much as he could. God, ohhh. Groaning, he pushed forward again, and again, all the heat and need concentrating in his cock, the friction between them.

"Amber--" As much as his name seemed to be torn from her lips each time they came together, Foreman couldn't help answering. "Ohh, yes, honey, yeah--" Out of his control, the sudden slam of his orgasm left him groaning harshly, his hips bucking twice, again, hard, as his arousal overwhelmed him. Like lightning along his nerves, flowing in, then, as suddenly, dissipating. Foreman's thrusts flowed, but he couldn't quite stop moving. Aftershocks rippled through him, and the feeling of being inside Amber, being with her like this, was too much to give up. Breathing hard, he settled on top of her. He didn't want to crush her, but he didn't know if he was physically capable of holding himself up anymore. He let his head fall forward, dropping a kiss on Amber's cheek, and then settling on the pillow beside her head. Beyond the pumping bellows of his lungs, Foreman drifted on the current of his slowly fading orgasm.

Eric frowned with concentration, his mouth slack and his shoulders rolling, and the way his subscapularis twitched, god, fuck. Amber forgot everything, knowing only the slick sounds as their bodies met each other time and time again, Eric's hot breath, her short-circuiting pleasure electrifying her. Amber’s hair roots were wet with sweat, her skin flushed. "Yeah," she spurred him on, heart going into overdrive to hear his voice calling her name. "Yeahh, mmnhh, c'mon--"

Amber laughed out of pure joy to feel him come; rocked him through his shudders til he collapsed on her like a sack of potatoes. Tenderly she stroked the base of his skull like he liked, murmuring meaningless but heartfelt words.

Daylight was strong now. She should get up, there was work to be done: please House, win prize, victory. It was so late already; there'd be a price to pay. What would House demand? But Amber could barely move, still shivering with sexual excitement. Even wriggling her toes proved a challenge, though her hip's limp thrusts were involuntary, automatic. Did she want to come again? Could she? She felt like she was still coming, her vagina tightening unclenching round Eric's dick in uncontrolled spasms.

She did all that she could, arms and legs still wrapped around him, angling to get him in deeper even as he softened. Her nipples, sensitive, ached to be rubbed against his chest. Was that her voice? Was she still moaning?

It'd be so nice to fall back asleep with him still in her. Eventually her gasps faded, her breathing tending towards regularity. Eric looked so good, worn like she'd wrung him out. Happy. She'd-- no, they'd done this. Contentment flooded her. She was glad to be here. Glad they'd worked past their fights, glad she'd hit on him that first night. Amber smiled at Eric's radiance. He was amazing and gorgeous, in so many ways. He made her feel so free. She kissed him lightly, endorphins still leaving her lightheaded. "I love you," came out of her mouth without thought.

At first, it seemed that though he'd finished, Amber was already up for round two. The rolling clench of Amber's muscles excited him, even though he'd already come, making it feel like his orgasm would last even longer. Exhaustion and elation warred for control, and Foreman rocked his hips to meet hers a few more times, loving the way she clung to him with all her strength. If she'd kept it up, he would have pulled out, touched her again, brought her off a second time, but before he could offer, Amber's movements slowly stilled, until they were lying tangled in each other's arms, still breathing heavily and damp with sweat and sex. Foreman didn't want to move. Didn't want to think. Didn't want to worry about work, the world, what might come next. If he could spend the day in bed with Amber, moving no farther than to slip out and draw her into his arms, he would.

Amber beamed at him, brilliant, and Foreman smiled back tenderly, from where his face was half-crushed into the pillow beside her. He answered her kiss instinctively, feeling it as an affirmation of how good they'd made each other feel.

His eyes widened when she spoke, his heart skipping a beat, and then tightening in his chest, releasing a flood of adrenaline. I love you. No sooner than he'd become utterly content than she'd caught him again, flatfooted, dropped an ambush on him without warning. Without even pausing for a breath, Foreman kissed her again, strong and deep. He had no idea what to say, but the kiss came easily, naturally, all his feelings channelled into the physical contact. It wasn't quite panic he was feeling--although, God knew, he might just be too worn out to panic, lost in a haze of endorphins.

"Amber..." He raised his hand to her cheek, cupping her face, not able to get enough of looking at her. Studying her in this moment. The last time he'd said I love you, to Wendy, he hadn't felt it; it'd been instinct, saving himself from another fight, another accusation that he was too distant. A week ago, he'd convinced himself that he didn't love Amber. Not yet. Not without more guarantees for the number of risks he was taking.

But then, Amber had taken the same risk. First. Even after their fight. Even though, as she'd told him, she'd never been with someone long-term before...maybe never even loved someone before. Foreman's heart started pounding even harder, because he hadn't even thought this was on the horizon; he hadn't even met her family yet, although that invitation still hung between them too. She was giving him so much.

All he wanted was to kiss her. Not to run. As close as they were, wrapped together in a tangle of limbs, he only wanted to be closer. Not one part of him felt like Amber was trying to coerce something from him he wasn't ready to say, and that, more than anything, sent a rush of happiness through him.

He'd told her things he hadn't told anyone since Claire. She knew about his mom, his family, how he felt about his career, about House; and when they fought, she fought to be with him as much as because there were real issues between them. I know what I feel, he'd told himself. I know what it's like to be in love.

Only three weeks. Turbulent, emotionally all over the damn map, but so good. A risk... Amber was late to work for him, because of him. She'd trusted him this morning like never before. Foreman pushed closer to her, as if they could meld together if he tried hard enough. The way his face hurt--Jesus, he hadn't stopped smiling for a moment. He bent close, wanting his words to be for her alone. "I love you too."

Not until she heard the words was Amber aware of them. Panic choked off her euphoria. Had she just said that? She couldn't've. She'd never thought it before, why would I love you fly out of her mouth like birds released from a cage? Fuck, it hadn't been three weeks and even she knew it was too far too fast, fuck, fuck, fuck--

Before she could do damage control, though, Eric kissed her again, buying them both time. Time for him to come up with the most diplomatic possible rejection, time for her to find the best way to laugh it off. She'd been high off sex, no way could she be held accountable for whatever sweet nothings poured out, she hadn't even meant it.

He was so gentle, compared to the rough, confused kisses they'd exchanged during sex; Amber clenched her eyes, willing herself not to come undone. Play it cool. However he said it, she wouldn't make a fuss when he found some way to tell her he didn’t feel the same. Had to protect her pride. Maybe he wouldn't even comment and it'd be as if he hadn't heard her.

Though, what the hell, she could feel his lips turned up in a smile even as they kissed. Why was he so happy? Amber dared a look as they separated; Eric was grinning fit to crack his face in half. Despite all her attempts to calm down, her heart burst out racing again. He wasn't-- he wasn't glad, was he? But what else was she supposed to think, with him beaming like she'd never seen before, and him holding her all the tighter? Tears she hadn't realized she'd been holding back sprang to her eyes; Amber knew, with every fiber of her self, even before he said the words back at her. Eric loved her too.

Laughing, she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him so that her chin dug into his shoulder. She needed a second to make sense of her flooding fear and joy; it was like she'd had all the breath knocked out of her and lost which way was up. Love. Amber hadn't-- fuck, love was the obligatory feeling for family, together with a generous helping of exasperation, because what else could you feel for them? Passion was for work, into which she threw herself body, soul, and heart. Men, at best, got her lust and interest. The last time she'd considered love was in high school, and even that had been a teenager’s naive stupidity.

And now Eric-- Amber didn't even know what to think or feel. He certainly had gotten under her skin like no one else had in ages. Made her into an idiot and somehow got her doing all kinds of things she wouldn't have considered for anyone else, like being considerate of his feelings just for him and not as a means of reaching an objective. Was that love?

She didn't know. But, still laughing, she'd bask in this dazzled, confused happiness for as long as it lasted. Still laughing, Amber planted a foot against the base of the bed and twisted Eric, wrestling him; smirked when she came out on top again. "Oh, do you?" she asked playfully.

Actually saying the words made Foreman's heart ache. Acknowledging what he felt crystallized his emotions, made him realize that he meant it in a way he hadn't so much as suspected. He knew it should be scary as hell, and it was, but in a distant way that couldn't touch his happiness. The brightness of Amber's eyes that might be tears closed his throat. She was so fiercely independent, nearly standoffish at times, reserving the moments of true openness for when they were alone, like this. But even then, she'd tried to close herself off from him when she cried. This time, Foreman had no sense that she wanted to shrug off and ignore her emotions, and it made him feel just as strongly.

He laughed out loud when she twisted underneath him, and let her wriggle free. It was either allow her to manhandle him or suffer the consequences--he'd still been inside her, even if his erection had softened somewhat, and if she'd turned like that without his cooperation it wouldn't have ended well. He landed on his back, and, since Amber was propping herself up above him, let his own arms fall slack behind his head. Open, raising his chin slightly as if he was baring his throat to her; showing how easily he was hers. His smile was still firmly, probably sappily, plastered across his face, but he couldn't hide it. Hell, he didn't want to hide it. All his affection rose up, and Foreman met Amber's eyes, finding any way he could to let her know. "Yeah," he said, his voice rough.

His pulse was still racing. He wished it was this easy; declare his feelings, and trust in hers, and leave it at that. But now that the words were out, he wondered what Amber's expectations were--that they'd never fight again? That he'd give in even more easily than he had? No. God, he had to get his mind out of those miserable tracks. They'd proved they could move past something. Keep working on their problems. "I didn't know," he confessed quietly, his mouth still insistently curving into a smile. "You don't know what you do to me."

Amber shifted, finding the coziest way to lie on Eric. He hadn't wrestled back so she remained on top, her back half exposed to the cool air. She crossed her arms over his chest, in order to best meet his gaze and radiant smile, and let her knees fall on either side of him. "I didn't either," Amber responded automatically, not even thinking to hold anything back. "I mean, about me-- about me loving you." The words shouldn't have tripped on her tongue, since she'd just said them, but it was different, repeating them with full awareness. Her flush probably showed.

The tremors from her orgasm still washed over her, more lightly and less frequently; that and the instinct to take in his warmth made her rest her chin on the back of her hands, cuddling in closer. He hadn't known he'd loved her. If-- but why doubt him? By now Amber could write a short encyclopedia on Eric's expressions, and this was about as satisfied as he got. Oddly, he usually got this self-assured and absolute contentment after they'd made up. That was more reassurance than Amber could've gotten from mere words alone.

You don't know what you do to me. That sounded intriguing. "I have some idea," Amber teased. Breathing in deep, the scent of morning and their sex filled her. They'd have to get up soon, Amber knew. Being late was one thing; blowing off work altogether was another. But-- she wanted this moment to last. She wanted to bask in these strange, warm, terrifying feelings for as long as possible. "I know I can get you hard just with stories about girls I maybe made out with." She traced his lower lip with the tip of her index finger. "I know I can make you smile like this." A few inches forward and she lightly kissed him. "And if it's anything like what you do to me..." They'd fought over precisely that, actually. Amber had hated how unreliable she became with Eric, sabotaging her other goals in favor of him. But, right now, in this bubble of happiness, she wouldn't change a thing.

Foreman tensed his abs as Amber wriggled on top of him, enough to protect himself from any flying elbows, and otherwise letting her use him as a pillow however she liked. She was warm, a comfortably heavy weight pushing him back into the softness of the covers and mattress. His smile quirked wider when she said it again, and he brought his arms up to wrap around her, rubbing her back with his splayed palms, pausing at times to knead gently at the muscles in her back. Her hair was sweat-dark at the roots, flyaway and tangled at the ends, the strands falling over her shoulders and brushing his chest and neck. Her eyes were large and dark and luminous, focused on his, and a gorgeous pink stained her cheeks. "I'm glad you told me," he said. It sounded stupid, but he'd run out of things to say at the very moment when he wanted to speak the most.

He raised an enquiring eyebrow when she claimed to know all about him. His chest rumbled with his chuckle. "You never did finish that story," he pointed out. Not that it'd been necessary. He hadn't even had a moment to think about the images, not when he had Amber herself. With a quick flick of his tongue, Foreman lifted his head from the pillow and kissed Amber's fingertip. The first way he'd ever kissed her, out in the cold rain the night they'd met. She'd pressed her finger against his lips then, too. Her mouth was better. Warm and inviting, the kiss was brief but endlessly promising. Amber had yelled once that she hated what he did to her...a flash of pain caught Foreman unawares, as wrenching and disconcerting as if his stomach had fallen out from under him during the first freefall on a rollercoaster. Had that changed? Either what he did to her, or how she felt about it? He swallowed, keeping his eyes on her face. The gentleness, the tender teasing, that wasn't a lie. Amber didn't play games, demand more while appearing to ask for less. That's why he'd been able to answer her; to say the word love. Because she hadn't been artfully angling for it, or giving him her love like a test.

He didn't want to doubt her. He didn't want to mar their time together, or think about how the minutes had to be slipping away while they mooned into each other's eyes. His hands stilled on Amber's back. Why ruin this? Why get hung up on questioning how much do you love me? or why do you love me? Foreman would be no better than some of his girlfriends in the past, the ones who tugged at him, asking him to quantify his feelings, teasing at first, but later, so insecure that Foreman only wanted to edge away from their pleas for reassurance. He wasn't going to ask Amber whether she loved him enough. What did that mean? It was enough to make him realize that he loved her back, and as competitive as he knew Amber was, it wasn't a oneupsmanship contest he was willing to get involved in. He didn't want to know.

Straining the muscles in his neck, Foreman pushed up to kiss Amber again. That, he could count on. The softness of her mouth, the warmth of their kisses. When he fell back, he let out a deep breath. "We're late," he said, massaging a fingertip along her spine. A small smile, the same one he couldn't seem to help, turned up the corner of his mouth. "Think House would believe us if we both called in sick?"

Eric's hand glided over her back, mysteriously finding precisely where she was most sensitive, his fingertips doing wonders to undo her lingering tension. Amber let free a light moan, her eyes fluttering. Sexual satisfaction and absolute contentment were giving way to sleepiness; they'd just woken up and she'd have been happy to crawl back under the covers and fallen asleep spooning him from behind, his scent encouraging positive dreams.

He'd become mellow too, but humorously so. Amber happily listened to the rumble of his voice as he gently poked fun at her. "The story's not going anywhere," Amber flirted. Telling it to him now, all sated, would be a waste of the story, but the reminder would make him think of it later during the day, at work. The thought of distracting Eric, the memory of a story he'd never heard overtaking him, filled Amber with glowing smugness. She liked him with her on his mind-- and now, she realized with greater pleasure, his heart too. "I can tell it to you aaaanytime I want. Other ones, too."

His eyes shone, and in this soft light they were a whole new shade of brown she'd never noticed before. The way he gazed, you'd think she was the most captivating being in this world. And perhaps she was, to him. Amber took it for granted that she was exciting, beautiful, and interesting, but to be the most important person to someone... she didn't know what would change with them in love. Not much, she imagined. What she'd felt for Eric now she'd been feeling for a while; the only difference was that she'd unwittingly put a name to it. She also doubted that Eric happened to fall in love with her precisely when he'd told her so. At most, it'd give her a confidence she didn't have before-- the other girls in his past wouldn't bother her quite so much, not if he loved her. Unless he fell in love with every other girl, like House had suggested.

That consideration did weigh down Amber's current joy, but she pushed it away, focusing on deepening their kiss, chasing that lingering taste of her, nuzzling her face against his morning stubble. She wouldn't ask for pie charts comparing his past loves to her, especially not when he raised the bigger problem facing them. "God, don't remind me," Amber moaned. They'd be over an hour late by now instead of the fifteen minutes or so she'd originally intended when rolling onto him. "Why can't you be a normal guy and fuck in five minutes?" Of course, the 'normal men' hadn't gotten two weeks of dating from her and definitely not any declarations of love, so maybe there was something to be said for how Eric pursued more and better. "I think he'd laugh at us, that's what." With a regretful kiss on his cheek, she sat up. "You can stay there as long as you like, I'm showering and getting dressed." She glanced down his naked chest and remembered another detail. "You going to wear the same clothes as yesterday?"

Facing the fact that they were going to be incredibly late wasn't fun. Still, satisfaction made Foreman smirk, a warm shot of smugness warding off any guilt or annoyance he might feel. Amber kicked normal guys out of her bed after a night--her asshole neighbour had said as much. Foreman was still around, which could only mean he was better than normal. Better than all of them, maybe. "Because you're too gorgeous to rush," he said with indulgent gratification, feeling lazy and completely vindicated in taking his time. It'd be a while before he forgot this morning.

When Amber sat up, Foreman extended his legs and arms, pulling himself taut and stretching out his back and shoulders. Felt damn good. Relaxed, feeling the strength flowing into his muscles, the pure enjoyment of extending himself. With a sigh, he fell back again. Looking down at himself regretfully, he grimaced a bit as he eased the condom off his dick and sat up beside Amber. "No," he decided. "I'll go home, it's on the way." Naked, he wandered to Amber's bathroom to drop the condom in the trash and wash his hands. His place was between Amber's and the hospital. Calculating distances, and the fact that he was usually quicker than her in the mornings, it meant they might end up walking in late together even if they'd arrived separately. Foreman glanced into the bathroom mirror and lifted his hand to his chin, rubbing at the stubble on his cheeks. He'd have to shave. Well, maybe he and Amber could stagger their arrivals at work, but it'd still be obvious why they were late. He'd gotten the best of the morning; he'd deal with the consequences.

Turning to Amber, he smiled, wishing he could simply pull her into his arms again. "I'll see you there," he said. Probably too early to start making plans about after. House might throw a curveball and demand that one or the other of them stay late, for no good reason except he liked messing with them. Foreman kissed Amber lightly on his way back to the bedroom, to haul on yesterday's clothes and make his way home.

Late as they were, Amber let herself watch Eric's short bit of showing off, appreciating the tone of his muscles as they stretched. What harm would a few more minutes do? The degree of House's ire wouldn't change by five minutes. Of course, when Eric pulled off the condom with the same expression of disgust as the girls in Amber's 8th grade biology class touching dead frogs, she laughed as well. She liked that about him, that it wasn't just sex, that he could make her laugh too. Amber wasn't used to that. She went about everything hard and intense, and everyone was out to get her. Such competitively hadn't left much space in her life for amusement and it'd left a hole in her life that only now was she starting to realize.

In the bathroom, Eric bid her goodbye. "See you," she said and hugged him, tight, knowing it would be the last time she really could for the next few hours. Today would likely be quiet, but no reason to rub their relationship in everyone's-- House's--face. She had to enjoy him now while she could; Amber knew very well just how different Dr. Foreman was compared to Eric. "We'll take care of House, yeah?" she said with a wink. Together they certainly would. Touching Eric, it was impossible not to kiss him too, so she did, slow, lingering. "This morning was great."

With that, she slipped away, getting to her usual morning tasks. It was time to start-- or get the second start, anyway-- the day, not to mention plan out any and all possible attacks House would use on her and how to best counter them. Best to hurry and look her sharpest. There was a whole day ahead of her.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

November 8

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