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Hanging On The Telephone
by phineyj
Oh, he was going to make her pay, and pay big, for that.
Cameron set the phone down carefully on the nightstand, and looked over at House. She'd never seen quite that expression on his face before. It was composed of equal parts lust and fury, with just a dash of amusement.
"Is the floor show over already?" he asked.
"Yeah; the tips suck," Cameron returned, starting to feel slightly embarrassed. And sticky. She fetched a pair of nail scissors from the bathroom, and cut House free from his bonds. She could see there was no point trying to undo the knots, which had worked themselves tight.
House rubbed his wrists and looked at her with an evil expression in his eyes. He was still achingly hard and it was quite a job to work his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off, but he managed it. He fished into his pocket and withdrew the bottle of Vicodin, swallowed one dry and then threw the jeans into the corner of the room, where they landed with a soft thump.
He patted the bed beside him. Cameron sat down tentatively, watching his face for clues as to what she should do next.
"Am I in disgrace?" she asked.
"Yup," he said, "Honestly Cameron; `he's a little tied up right now'? I'm going to have to tell Wilson you like playing `naughty secretary.'"
Suddenly, he rolled over, shoving her down on the bed and trapping her under his weight. He pushed her legs apart with his knee, and Cameron moaned as he rubbed his impressive erection against her clit, which was still tender. He kissed her neck, and muttered, his voice rumbling against her chin, "I do like watching you. It's better than cable."
She was still soaking wet and he slid into her easily. He didn't do her like this very often - it hurt his leg less if she was on top - but she loved it when he did. She wrapped her legs around his waist; he was close already, she could tell by the expression on his face. She surrendered to sensation; his hard cock thrusting in and out of her; his sweaty back beneath her hands; his tongue warm in her mouth. He shouted when he came, and when he'd got his breath back, he said, quietly, "Just remember, Cameron, turnabout is fair play."
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One week later...
Cameron lay in House's bed, drifting in and out of sleep and enjoying the sunshine streaming in through the open window and the patterns it made on the wall beneath. She ought to get up, really - House had been awake for least an hour, and she could hear him watching TV in the other room. But it was Sunday, neither of them were on call, and besides, his bed was so comfortable. Especially when he wasn't in it, hogging the covers and grousing about her cold feet.
She must have dozed off again, because the next thing she knew, House was standing over her. He was holding her ringing cell phone between the finger and thumb of his hand, as though it might explode at any minute. He dropped it in her lap, where the tinny tune changed tone as it was muffled by the coverlet. She struggled up to a sitting position and retrieved the phone, while shoving her hair out of her eyes.
"Hello?" she said, croakily.
"Where are you, darling? I've called your apartment twice and you didn't pick up," said her mother, sounding vexed. She was a seriously early riser. Cameron looked at House's beside clock. It was only five past eight.
"Umm," said Cameron, not thinking as fast as she would have liked, "I'm at work." She knew her mother would latch onto the slightest suggestion of a new relationship with cloying enthusiasm. She didn't want to give her ammunition.
House made a pretend shocked face at her bare-faced lie, and sat down on the end of the bed. Cameron frowned at him, and made shooing motions with her free hand; ones which he, of course, ignored.
"We...have an urgent case. I was called in. I'm actually very busy..." Her mother completely ignored this none too subtle hint, and launched into telling her some pointless information about her cousin's wedding.
Cameron wondered to herself when it would be possible to get a word in and find out which cousin her mother actually meant; there were half a dozen to choose from and they seemed to do nothing else but get married or have babies.
"Mmmhmm," she said, half-listening, then, she shrieked as House suddenly got up and pulled all the covers off her in one swift movement, leaving her in just the old band t-shirt of his she'd gone to bed in.
"Sorry mom, I, erm, knocked my coffee over."
House shook his head at her in mock disapproval. Then he lay down, carefully, on his front, his head in her lap. She looked down at him in horror, as she felt his warm hands slide up until one was resting on each hip. She tried to wriggle away, but she was too close to the wall, and anyway, House had a good grip on her.
Her mother was now - with what she clearly thought was supreme tact - explaining that she had fixed her up a date for the wedding. Ah, it must be Lizzie who was getting married; she was the only one who could possibly have been shameless enough to suggest pairing Cameron up with the groom's younger brother.
Cameron was just attempting to head this one off at the pass, by saying, "Mom, I really don't need you to-" when she felt a familiar tickle between her thighs. House's stubble was scratching her, as he held her open with his strong fingers. He swiped his tongue along her clit, licking her like she was one of the lollipops he was always stealing from Pediatrics.
A ripple of sensation rolled through Cameron - House was really very good with his tongue - no surprise there. She unconsciously reached under her t-shirt and started to play with a nipple.
Uh oh. Her mother had just asked her a question and she had no idea what. Better `fess up.
"Mom - there's a lot going on here. What did you say?" Her mother was now rambling about transport arrangements.
Dimly, down on the bed, she was aware of the vibration as House sniggered, before redoubling his efforts. Now, he had two fingers inside her, seeking out her most sensitive places...oh, that felt amazing...
"I don't want to book a ticket now, it's ages until May," she somehow got out; forming sentences was getting really challenging. Probably because she was coming. It was too much; House's warm, wet tongue lapping at her, his fingers inside her; the feel of the cool cotton sheets against her flushed skin.
"Excuse me, I'm going to sneeze," Cameron gasped out, covering the phone speaker with one hand and clapping the other over her mouth, as her climax hit her like the crest of a wave.
Still breathing heavily, she went back to her call.
"Sorry...OK, thanks for the info, I'll call Lizzie myself and make some arrangements with her. I'm getting paged, Mom, gotta go..."
She hung up, just as House hauled himself up to a sitting position, his lips shiny with her juices and a look on his face like the cat that got the cream.
"So, is your mother well?" he enquired, innocently, "Nice chat?"
"No thanks to you, you bastard," Cameron replied, but her heart wasn't really in it. That had been quite an orgasm. Still, two could play at this game; just wait until next time his mother called...
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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