November 28th, 2007 - Wednesday

[amber_v]

Amber eyed the small mountain her bags added up to. Part of her wondered if she hadn’t overdone it; this wasn’t the apocalypse. The rest of her new better: Thanksgiving with her family? Was worse. In those suitcases were provisions for all possible disasters, including a sleeping bag and extra bed sheets. Her mom would not accuse her of forgetting anything.

The salad, though, they’d get that in Worcester itself. Amber preferred to face last-minute Wednesday lines than bring six-hour wilted lettuce from Princeton-Plainsboro.

That ought to be it, though. Time to go. They were going to have a lot of traffic as it was since House had insisted they stay Wednesday afternoon despite the fact that they had no case—and also despite the fact most of the hospital had been gone since yesterday. House couldn’t actually be that lonely and bitter, not when she knew for a fact that Wilson had invited him to a full Thanksgiving meal cooked in his very own apartment. If House wanted to stay at the hospital to impress and/or to get into the pants of Cuddy—who would be working through the holiday, according to Amber’s sources (Cameron)— he didn’t have make them all suffer with him.

Amber got her cell phone out and texted Eric: Leaving now, be ready to go. He probably knew by now she would not spare him his life if he and his own bags were not waiting for her on the curb. He was rather inconsistent about when and when not to get into a power struggle with her, but for his own good and for her punctuality, she hoped he wouldn’t make a case of it today. Throwing her cell phone back into her purse, Amber began the wonderful journey of torture, starting with getting all her damn things down a huge staircase. First thing she’d do when she got back was get in the apartment management’s face about getting a damn elevator.

Comments

[eric_foreman]

God, he felt good. And there was time to feel it; to concentrate on the bright, clear hum from every nerve ending. Foreman kept kissing Amber, kept stroking inside her at the same steady rate. He felt the urge to go faster, but he also felt it for what it was, an urge that he could control. Even if Amber couldn't relax, he could. Other than his arms holding him up, and the slight burn in his shoulders from keeping himself angled perfectly above Amber, he let his body shudder and loosen up, every muscle dissolving into the feeling of heat and friction. He was in charge, and as rarely as it happened, it was all the more important to savour every second of it.

Amber clung to him even as she touched herself; her ankles were locked below his ass, but that only made it better. Foreman could feel the tension in her, could see the struggle on her face, the rapid effort of her arm as she touched herself, and he felt like he'd never seen anything more beautiful. "Yeah, Amber," he encouraged her, his voice growing hoarse with his own efforts to hold back and let her come first. "You look so good." Her kiss took him almost by surprise, and then Foreman was kissing her back just as desperately. Amber's muscles clenched down on him, over and over again, while she sucked on his tongue and moaned as quietly as she could. The combination was overwhelming. Foreman groaned softly, pushing deeper inside, so hot and slippery, tight and inescapable.

Trembling, gasping for air, he forced himself to stay at the languid, slow rock. He was close, and all he had to do was relax, let his mind and his control dissolve, while sensation took over all his perception. Holding Amber against him, as much as he could, Foreman stilled as his orgasm pulsed through him. It was quiet, like being submerged in a cool, refreshing pool, and he breathed through it, still feeling the echoes of Amber's orgasm tightened around his cock. When it was over, he felt drained and elated at once. He didn't want to move, didn't want to pull out or away, and with his eyes half-closed, he kissed Amber again, gently and gratefully.

[amber_v]

Amber orgasm seemed to never end: the waves just kept on coming, intense and all-reaching. Damn it, she never came like this with her one-night stands. Eric seemed to follow her, his groan reverberating against her chest, his hips pushing down harder but not faster. Amber watched, breathing deep. He was consumed, taken somewhere far away. She'd done that to him. Her. Warmth and pride flooded through her.

Amber was laughing quietly by the time he pressed his lips to hers, his body giving way and lowering. Filled with the satisfaction of orgasm and smug to have given him the same pleasure, she couldn't find fault with anything, not even the sudden flip of positions during sex. She hummed into the kiss, languidly stroking Eric’s back.

They'd have to move soon. She couldn't sleep with him lying on her chest like this, but for a while longer it'd be okay. "'S'good," Amber murmured. She had to be quiet. The reasons why seemed so distant and unimportant, but anyway she didn’t feel like making much in noise, except maybe snoring.

Still. Amber stretched her arms up, her hand brushing against the headboard from her teenager years. Beyond Eric's face and shoulders she could see her old chest of drawers with that huge mirror; she knew that if she turned her head, she'd see the ancient checkered curtain covering her window. It was impossible not to remember where they were. Who was around. Frowning, Amber shifted, suddenly unsettled by just how naked and damp she was against Eric.

[eric_foreman]

Taking a deep breath, Foreman let his head fall into the gap between Amber's shoulder and her neck. He could smell her sweat, and his, mixed with the sharper scent of sex. Answering Amber's soft voice, he turned just far enough to kiss her jaw, his beard scraping lightly over her skin. Good, yeah. Gradually, he became aware of his surroundings again, the cool air against his back, the details of the room that he hadn't really paid attention to since Amber had pulled him in and kissed him. He wondered absently if Kate urging them to go get settled in had really been a pass for the entire night, or if they'd been supposed to unpack, maybe change into more casual clothes, and come back down to join the family for more conversation. He hoped not. Supper had been okay, maybe better than he'd hoped, and he thought he'd made a good impression, but that didn't mean he wanted to spend the rest of his evening debating politics with Geoffrey.

When Amber shifted underneath him, Foreman pushed up immediately. He hadn't been paying attention, he'd been drifting on his own endorphins, and he'd probably been squishing her more than he'd meant to. Reaching down, he held the condom in place as he withdrew from her, making a low sound at the too-sensitive sensation in his dick. Looking around, he couldn't immediately find a place to dispose of the damn thing that wouldn't be terribly obvious. There was a little wicker basket that might've been meant for trash, but it didn't have a plastic liner, and Foreman had reservations about a condom being the only thing thrown out in the otherwise immaculate basket. He ended up wrapping the condom in a few tissues and hoping there'd be a chance to dispose of it a little more discreetly later.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, he smiled down at Amber. He really didn't want to give up touching her, and if it was up to him, he'd spoon around her and fall asleep, but he doubted that relaxed attitude wouldn't fly with whatever protocol she had around staying in her parents' house. He reached out and rubbed his palm over her hip. "How're you doing?" he asked. He himself felt pretty mellow; if it had been Amber's intention to make him forget they were in the same house as most of her extended family, then she'd succeeded. Or, at the very least, he wasn't feeling as uptight as he had been. "Did you want to go back down? Maybe get a shower first?"

[amber_v]

Eric lifting up gave her much needed breathing space, literal and figurative. Amber rolled to her side, her back to him. This pillow wasn't hers. It was too soft and fluffy. Had her mom thrown out hers or had she snuck in this newer set to impress the guest? The sheets weren't Amber’s either. Green was more her mom's taste and they weren't anywhere near as smooth as the ones Amber used in her own house.

Home but not, with her boyfriend getting rid of the evidence behind her. As if they could hide it. They hadn't made much noise but even if they'd been as silent as church mice, everyone would've suspected what they'd been up to anyway. Amber huffed. If her family was going to think like that, then it was a good thing she and Eric got in the fun of a good fucking. Anyway, it was none of her family’s business.

The mattress dipped when Eric lied down again. She felt the warmth of his body before his hand glided over her skin; his touch was as gentle and mellow as his voice. Amber found herself curving her back into him, longing for more of this touch. Her anger dissipated with his care. "Wish we weren't here," she admitted. She couldn't quite be herself, constantly wondering what her mom and brother were thinking. Everyone else she told to fuck off, but she couldn't do that with them.

"Oh god no," Amber said to Eric's first suggestion. The shower was a decent idea-- she was starting to get sticky-- but that'd mean leaving this bed and room, which she wasn't up to. "I'm staying here." To press her point, she sat up and pulled back the covers, sliding between them. She held the covers up and raised an eyebrow at him. "Of course, if you want to go running back to my mom, I won't stop you."

[eric_foreman]

"Hm," Foreman answered, as neutrally as possible while still being supportive. He had a feeling that Amber was allowed to not want be home, but if he said the same thing, then Amber would want to know what the hell was wrong with her family, that he didn't want to spend time with him, that he'd just met them and already wanted to run away. He wished he knew more of what Amber was thinking. She'd worked hard to organize this trip, and she'd acted alternately fiery and nostalgic, or else bitterly dismissive about the entire thing. Foreman supposed the way Geoffrey acted, like Amber's life didn't count for as much as his, was a big part of it, but if that was the case then Amber would be more keen on avoiding her brother, and still enjoy seeing the rest of her family. Maybe she really felt like Geoffrey had won a prize that should have been hers...but Foreman couldn't suggest that, either, because Amber would never admit to have lost any race, especially one so important.

Foreman got out of the way when Amber sat up to rearrange the bedcovers. Okay, so not going down again. That amounted to admitting that they'd just fucked in Amber's parents' house. And that they couldn't scramble away from dinner fast enough, like they were still in that stage where they were desperately horny for each other. Which, Foreman thought with a grin, they had been tonight. Even if they were more even-handed the rest of the time, they still matched each other in bed, whatever the circumstances. Foreman held back a sigh when Amber continued; the way she phrased it, it sounded like he'd be the bad guy if he even so much as set foot outside the bedroom to take a piss. Well, that wasn't urgent, although no matter what Amber thought, he was going to find a moment to brush his teeth before he fell asleep. Foreman climbed in under the covers, and wrapped a strong arm around Amber's stomach, holding her pressed against him. "No," he said. "I'm fine here."

[amber_v]

Amber's mouth curled into a smile. "Good," she replied, shifting into Eric. She'd grown used to having his chest against her, his breaths slowing and steadying as fell asleep. As often as not, she awoke on the other end of the bed with several covers kicked away. As a way to begin her night's sleep, though, it'd do. It'd do just fine. Amber closed her eyes, humming softly. "'Cause I'm staying."