Disclaimer: Characters owned by the usual suspects. This is just for fun.

Author's Notes: For the Necking Challenge at ds_flashfiction.

Ray groaned into her mouth, kissing her roughly, a little too rough maybe, but Christ, it had been so long for him. He knew he should keep it quiet, that someone was gonna hear him, hear them, and everything was going to blow sky high when that happened. But right now, all he cared about was her tight little body against him and the amazing way that she used her tongue. Who would have guessed she'd be so good at it?

"Come on, baby," he urged in her ear, breathing hard, groping her ass with all the finesse of some teenaged virgin, needing this, wanting this *so* bad his hands were shaking. "You can touch me," he whispered, pushing her back against the shelves so that his dick met the mound between her legs and he got a rush that nearly had him coming standing up. He licked up the side of her neck and she gasped and clutched a handful of his Bulls tee shirt so hard that he thought she was going to rip it. Which would have been hot as hell, but then, how could he explain that to...

"Ray," she moaned softly, a breathy kind of helpless sound, like she was fighting this. He knew that she was. She always did. They weren't a match and they both knew it, but Jesus, it was just so good between them, they couldn't stop. They were careful, or they tried to be, but sometimes, like now, when it had been a while, neither one of them could think very clearly. Which was why Ray was standing here, in broad daylight, shoving his hand up her tight sweater to get to her tits. Why he was rubbing his rock-hard dick against her and why she was -Oh, God, yes! - using both hands to unbutton his jeans.

Then, someone knocked on the door.

"Ah, fuck!" Ray hissed in frustration, looking down at her wet mouth and big, glazed-over eyes and gave some thought to bending her over her desk and finishing this anyway.

But she was already squirming away from him, smoothing her hair and pulling her sweater down. Ray swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, watching her go into her business mode and feeling more turned on than ever. Her cheeks were spotted with color and her chest rose and fell rapidly as she composed herself, but her eyes locked with Ray's, wanting him as much as he wanted her.

"Come in," she called out, situated behind her desk like nothing had happened.

Turnbull entered. "Hello, Detective Vecchio. Inspector, your three o'clock appointment is here."

"Thank you, Turnbull. Detective, I suppose you can see your own way out," Meg Thatcher said, her demeanor cool as ice, except for the patch of dampness that Ray could see on her neck.

Ray grinned back at her, enjoying the way her skin flushed an even deeper red. "Yes, I believe I can. Have a good one."