Glueton For Punishment 2/3
Title: Glueton For Punishment 2/3
Author: Scorch
Email: Miss_Incognito3@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Category: Humour/Romance
Content: Veronica/Lamb
Summary: He's rubber, she's glued.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Distribution: This place, my place. Anyplace else, just ask.
Notes: I really do hate my housemate's laptop. Sigh.
Part 2...
Veronica stared at the kneeling sheriff and the quirky smile curling his lips up. "If you're expecting me to get all shy and flustered, you're gonna be disappointed."
That valiant effort slipped, allowing his lips to split into a smile that flashed all his teeth. "Be disappointed if you did."
An identical grin appeared on her face. "Then what you waiting for, Edward? This chair isn't up there on the comfort scale."
"Kidding, aren't you? That chair is..."
"A month in traction waiting to happen?"
"It stopped my back hurting."
"Oh, my little Lamb," Veronica sighed. "It didn't stop hurting, it waved the white flag. Maybe if you got out of it from time to time..."
"How did you get in it if I wasn't out of it?"
Mock surprised covered her face, the breathy gasp equally condescending. "Did my ears deceive or did you just ask a legitimate question? Lemme me replay." Eyes glancing towards the ceiling, finger on chin, and half a second past. "Okay, replayed and yes, it was quite the decent question."
There was no chance for him to reply as her voice dropped babyishly. "My widdle gwasshopper is all growed up."
Don sneered. "You sound pathetic."
"Better than looking it."
He gave her one single look that said it all.
"Looking and sounding," she mused. "So this is what it's like to be you! I did wonder."
"I've got no problem wheeling you out into the street and leaving you there."
"And I have no problem marking my territory."
"There are such things as new chairs." He frowned, then sighed in resignation. He doubted those jeans would come off without her in them, which just sucked. "Probably have to get one now anyway."
"If I could leave you two alone, I would."
"Or I could..."
"Not finish that sentence and unstick me from your little love toy?" She paused for thought. "Does it vibrate?"
Don squeezed the bridge of his nose and tried to swallow back the laughter before it ruined the moment. "Scissors are in the top drawer, Mars. Make yourself useful."
For once, Veronica did as requested and retrieved the scissors, handing them over correctly. "I didn't even contemplate bodily harm. See how nice I am?"
"I'll sign you up for Girl Scout of the Year. Pull the denim tight."
It took a slightly awkward position to keep her hands glue free and get a good grip on her pants. "Hack away, oh swami of snipping. Oh, wait a sec. Can you take my boots off first? The destruction of jeans is one thing, but designer sliced footwear so isn't this season."
Plus she didn't have much to spare these days, not with college looming ahead anyway, and if she didn't have to splash out on shoes, then all the better. Not that she was going to tell him that, of course. Lucifer would be buying a snowboard before she confided anything to him ever again.
Out of everything, that had to be the worst. Don Lamb, her once loved deputy and first love, couldn't be trusted not to laugh at her.
"Anything else, your majesty?" He asked with a smile that told he was totally unaware of her thoughts. "Foot kissing, court jester?" The only problem was everytime he shot a line back at her, no matter how caustic, she wanted too go to him and have it be like it was.
"You'd look so cute in cap 'n' bells!" The other problem was that he really would look good in cap 'n' bells.
His expression was one of horror and he held up the scissors. "Get that thought out of your head, Veronica. I mean it."
"Would the words too late surprise you?"
"Nothing you do surprises me."
Veronica snapped her fingers. "Damn, there goes your birthday party and I had such plans."
The sheriff opened his mouth, but thought better of it, and finally sat on the floor.
On the floor, in his own office, with his constant pain in the ass stuck to his chair. How wonderful life could be sometimes.
He rolled up one leg of her jeans to the ankle and had to keep going until he found the top of her boot resting just below her knee. He shook his head, muttering "Pointless."
"What's pointless?"
"Boots like these and jeans, that's what."
She leaned over to see what he was talking about, but saw only the wedge heel and rounded toe. "What's wrong with my boots?"
He only had to look at her face to realise she really didn't have a clue. "FMB," was his simple response.
It didn't take long for Veronica to catch on. "These are not FMB's, deputy. FMB's usually come equipped with spikey heels and a zip that needs it's own state. These have neither or had that little factoid escaped your notice?"
"That's just a general idea of FMB's, Veronica, and these..." He gestured at the boots in question. "Are just on the right side of not being general."
"Because they don't have zippers and deadly heels? I don't understand," and for once, she genuinely didn't.
"Alright," Don rubbed his forehead. "No zippers on your boots, so how do you put em on?"
"For future reference?"
"Just answer the question, Mars."
Ohhh-kay. "I slip em on."
He paused for a second. "So your foot goes in and you slip black leather up over your calf?"
Was it her or did he just lick his lips? "Yeah, so..."
"Over socks or panty hose?"
Veronica couldn't decide if she was amused or intrigued, but she answered anyway. "Socks with these. Simple, normal, boring black socks." Then she remembered the skirt and fashion hose she'd worn when targeting the Tritons. "Unless it's raining, then hose. What does this have to do with my boots being pointless, Lamb?"
He simply grinned a grin that belonged to a crocodile. "You up for a little show and tell?"
"Sure. Not like I'm going anywhere."
*~*~*
"Alright," Don said, nodding a gesture at her hands. "Jeans off first and I won't cut your boots."
Blue eyes narrowed, suspicion seeping out of every pore, but she saw nothing untoward in him. Still, this was Lamb. "Why?"
He rolled his own blue eyes. "Just do it."
"Okay," she sighed. "This is me surrendering to whatever your tiny mind has cooked up."
Again, he rolled his eyes. "Pull em tight."
For the second time, Veronica did as requested and couldn't keep from pouting as she watched him cut her favourite pair of jeans. "Aw, man."
"Jeans, Mars," he stated. "Just jeans."
"They're not just jeans. They were on sale and the only pair that..."
Don stared at her. "You are such a girl. Jeans are jeans. They go with anything."
She stared right back. "You are such a man. Jeans are jeans, except when they're on sale and come with a top that says Boys Are Mean."
"Boys Are Mean?"
"Well, they are."
"Uh-huh."
"They are!"
"If you're five and having your hair pulled."
"Or if you're eighteen and being made fun of."
"Being made fun of? Sure you're not five?"
Veronica kicked out with her right foot and smiled when it connected with his knee. "Ah, the sweet, sweet sound of pain."
"I've got scissors, Mars."
"And I thought we were playing Show n Tell. Didn't you want to see my knee kicking technique?"
"Being a smartass is a way of life for you, isn't it?" He shook his head and cut further up her jeans, stopping when he saw skin. She was a little tanned with lines where shorts had been, making him assume she'd caught when taking her dog out to the beach.
"Get the sides and don't move."
A few more slices of the blades had him where her belt sat snug in the loops. "Next leg," and the same was done with the right leg of her jeans. Her right leg was just the same as the left, except for claw marks and faded white lines on her knee.
He glanced up to see Veronica with a quirky smile on her lips. "Backup and I shared a pizza."
Don had to laugh. He'd had his own experiences with that dog and its fondness for pizza, and he once had his own claw marks as proof.
She hadn't heard him laugh like that in a long time and she'd forgotten how nice it was. It was a nice sound. A little low and a bit hoarse, but nice, and made up of hee-hee-hee's that made him sound like a little boy who got away with the entire cookie jar.
He was still chuckling when he realised she hadn't spoken. "What?"
She blinked, his laughter echoing in her ears as memories surfaced. "Huh?"
"You zoned out there, Mars."
"Nah," she said, grateful for quickness of mind. "Just my earlier spliff taking effect."
Don shot her a blank look and didn't bother too respond to that one. "Take your belt off, Stoner. Faster I get your pants off, the faster we can play."
Veronica pressed her lips together as she waited for him to realise how that sounded. She saw the penny drop when his eyes closed and chin dropped down to his chest.
"Go ahead," he said, voice full of resignation. "Laugh."
"One," she replied and held up a single finger. "I'll give you this one."
"You're too kind. Belt."
"Bossy, aren't you?" Veronica had to shift a little in order to slide the belt through the loops dropped it into her bag, then frowned. "This is gonna be awkward."
Don tilted his head to one side as he took in her position and where he'd need to cut. He met her eyes. "Might be better if you get this bit," and handed the scissors over.
She gave a mocking little sob as she hacked away at the waist band on one side. It was a tough bit, but the blades were sharp, so there wasn't much of a problem. Yet she still blew out a hefty breath and took a rest before she attacked the other side before slicing through the crotch.
"Ha!" She yelled, punching the air with her fist. "I'm free!"
The sheriff moved to kneel in front of her and hesitated. This wasn't just some random tits and ass in his office, it was Veronica Mars. Daughter of his former mentor, perpetual thorn in his side, and Neptune's resident sneak.
Not to mention the girl who'd crushed on him for a good five or six years. He remembered seeing her blush each time he looked or smiled at her, how she'd smother girlish little giggles behind her hand, then whisper all about her secret love to Lily.
Her voice interrupted his thoughts. "Oh, for the love of..." and pulled the useless denim away from her, dropping it on top of her bag. "Well?"
Don blinked and then blinked again. There, on her body, were a pair of simple white cotton panties with bright yellow ducks. Ducks of all things. "Well what?"
Veronica sighed and treated him to a condescending look. "I'm on show, so now you tell. What's with my boots?"
She jumped a little when he grabbed both ankles, lifted both legs and gave them a jiggle, his lips spread into a smile that flashed his pearly whites. "Let's start here. Right at the tip of the toes you used to sneak into my office."
*~*~*
The black leather was starting to warm under his hands, the subtle shift in temperature making the material a little more supple. His thumbs eased down from where her toes were hidden and came to rest where foot met leg.
"What colour polish you wear?" He asked, his eyes going from the top of her boots to his hands and back again. "Pink? Blue?" His grin turned sharp, edgy. "Yellow to match those ducks?"
"So the not knowing gets you off?" Veronica asked with her own grin in place. "In that case... I'm not telling."
Don could stop the shiver if he tried. She always was quick on the up-take. "Then we got the ball and heel. Look, Mars. Look at the shape. Bare little toes all curled and this." His fingers moved to caress the arch, thumbs pressing just a little and, yeah. Her feet would look just like that when she came.
This time, she knew he had licked his lips.
She saw every milisecond of the action. Saw how pink his tongue was as it travelled from left to right and left his lips all shiny. It made her clench so suddenly, so tightly, she hissed. "Lamb, quit it."
Kneeling on the floor, directly between her legs, meant he hadn't missed a God damn thing. He watched the muscles in her stomach flex and thighs tighten in response to other muscles. Other, more private muscles that wanted him not to quit it.
"Then," he spoke, his voice was thick with early stages of arousal. "Then there's all this leather. All this shiny black leather. Makes a man wanna do all kindsa things."
Veronica watched the sheriff physically shiver, heard him groan, and felt him squeeze her calves. It was making her itch. She squirmed, trying to get some pressure where she needed it, but got nothing.
He hadn't done anything and she was getting off. How desperate was she?
Don was close enough to see her hips shift restlessly on his chair. Looked like he wasn't the only one affected. He kept going and focused his gaze on her pretty little face. "See how the leather fits your legs? See where leather turns to skin?"
This time it was her who licked her drying lips. Nodding, she followed his fingers as they traced a line up her boots, her breath faltering at the warm feel of his palms caressing her thighs. Up, down, up, down, softly, slowly, pausing at her knees before going higher.
Her skin was tingled from the tickle and she shifted forward, pushing herself closer and closer still. "Lamb."
So his name came out on a whine, sue her.
"All that is hidden by jeans." Chrissakes, she was getting wet and he was getting hard. "Pointless."
Veronica nodded again. When she spoke, her voice was breathy and quiet and he could stand to hear that tone muffled by his cock.
Now that... That was an image to keep him up at night.
Smartassed Veronica Mars on her knees, her baby blues looking up at him through her lashes, that tone made from swallowing a mouthful of his dick.
Fuck. His pants were tight and uncomfortable and he wanted them off.
"Talk to me, Mars," Don hissed. "Tell me something, anything. Just talk to me." So he was practically begging for it, sue him.
"If I promise no more jeans, can we play?"
Author: Scorch
Email: Miss_Incognito3@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Category: Humour/Romance
Content: Veronica/Lamb
Summary: He's rubber, she's glued.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Distribution: This place, my place. Anyplace else, just ask.
Notes: I really do hate my housemate's laptop. Sigh.
Part 2...
Veronica stared at the kneeling sheriff and the quirky smile curling his lips up. "If you're expecting me to get all shy and flustered, you're gonna be disappointed."
That valiant effort slipped, allowing his lips to split into a smile that flashed all his teeth. "Be disappointed if you did."
An identical grin appeared on her face. "Then what you waiting for, Edward? This chair isn't up there on the comfort scale."
"Kidding, aren't you? That chair is..."
"A month in traction waiting to happen?"
"It stopped my back hurting."
"Oh, my little Lamb," Veronica sighed. "It didn't stop hurting, it waved the white flag. Maybe if you got out of it from time to time..."
"How did you get in it if I wasn't out of it?"
Mock surprised covered her face, the breathy gasp equally condescending. "Did my ears deceive or did you just ask a legitimate question? Lemme me replay." Eyes glancing towards the ceiling, finger on chin, and half a second past. "Okay, replayed and yes, it was quite the decent question."
There was no chance for him to reply as her voice dropped babyishly. "My widdle gwasshopper is all growed up."
Don sneered. "You sound pathetic."
"Better than looking it."
He gave her one single look that said it all.
"Looking and sounding," she mused. "So this is what it's like to be you! I did wonder."
"I've got no problem wheeling you out into the street and leaving you there."
"And I have no problem marking my territory."
"There are such things as new chairs." He frowned, then sighed in resignation. He doubted those jeans would come off without her in them, which just sucked. "Probably have to get one now anyway."
"If I could leave you two alone, I would."
"Or I could..."
"Not finish that sentence and unstick me from your little love toy?" She paused for thought. "Does it vibrate?"
Don squeezed the bridge of his nose and tried to swallow back the laughter before it ruined the moment. "Scissors are in the top drawer, Mars. Make yourself useful."
For once, Veronica did as requested and retrieved the scissors, handing them over correctly. "I didn't even contemplate bodily harm. See how nice I am?"
"I'll sign you up for Girl Scout of the Year. Pull the denim tight."
It took a slightly awkward position to keep her hands glue free and get a good grip on her pants. "Hack away, oh swami of snipping. Oh, wait a sec. Can you take my boots off first? The destruction of jeans is one thing, but designer sliced footwear so isn't this season."
Plus she didn't have much to spare these days, not with college looming ahead anyway, and if she didn't have to splash out on shoes, then all the better. Not that she was going to tell him that, of course. Lucifer would be buying a snowboard before she confided anything to him ever again.
Out of everything, that had to be the worst. Don Lamb, her once loved deputy and first love, couldn't be trusted not to laugh at her.
"Anything else, your majesty?" He asked with a smile that told he was totally unaware of her thoughts. "Foot kissing, court jester?" The only problem was everytime he shot a line back at her, no matter how caustic, she wanted too go to him and have it be like it was.
"You'd look so cute in cap 'n' bells!" The other problem was that he really would look good in cap 'n' bells.
His expression was one of horror and he held up the scissors. "Get that thought out of your head, Veronica. I mean it."
"Would the words too late surprise you?"
"Nothing you do surprises me."
Veronica snapped her fingers. "Damn, there goes your birthday party and I had such plans."
The sheriff opened his mouth, but thought better of it, and finally sat on the floor.
On the floor, in his own office, with his constant pain in the ass stuck to his chair. How wonderful life could be sometimes.
He rolled up one leg of her jeans to the ankle and had to keep going until he found the top of her boot resting just below her knee. He shook his head, muttering "Pointless."
"What's pointless?"
"Boots like these and jeans, that's what."
She leaned over to see what he was talking about, but saw only the wedge heel and rounded toe. "What's wrong with my boots?"
He only had to look at her face to realise she really didn't have a clue. "FMB," was his simple response.
It didn't take long for Veronica to catch on. "These are not FMB's, deputy. FMB's usually come equipped with spikey heels and a zip that needs it's own state. These have neither or had that little factoid escaped your notice?"
"That's just a general idea of FMB's, Veronica, and these..." He gestured at the boots in question. "Are just on the right side of not being general."
"Because they don't have zippers and deadly heels? I don't understand," and for once, she genuinely didn't.
"Alright," Don rubbed his forehead. "No zippers on your boots, so how do you put em on?"
"For future reference?"
"Just answer the question, Mars."
Ohhh-kay. "I slip em on."
He paused for a second. "So your foot goes in and you slip black leather up over your calf?"
Was it her or did he just lick his lips? "Yeah, so..."
"Over socks or panty hose?"
Veronica couldn't decide if she was amused or intrigued, but she answered anyway. "Socks with these. Simple, normal, boring black socks." Then she remembered the skirt and fashion hose she'd worn when targeting the Tritons. "Unless it's raining, then hose. What does this have to do with my boots being pointless, Lamb?"
He simply grinned a grin that belonged to a crocodile. "You up for a little show and tell?"
"Sure. Not like I'm going anywhere."
*~*~*
"Alright," Don said, nodding a gesture at her hands. "Jeans off first and I won't cut your boots."
Blue eyes narrowed, suspicion seeping out of every pore, but she saw nothing untoward in him. Still, this was Lamb. "Why?"
He rolled his own blue eyes. "Just do it."
"Okay," she sighed. "This is me surrendering to whatever your tiny mind has cooked up."
Again, he rolled his eyes. "Pull em tight."
For the second time, Veronica did as requested and couldn't keep from pouting as she watched him cut her favourite pair of jeans. "Aw, man."
"Jeans, Mars," he stated. "Just jeans."
"They're not just jeans. They were on sale and the only pair that..."
Don stared at her. "You are such a girl. Jeans are jeans. They go with anything."
She stared right back. "You are such a man. Jeans are jeans, except when they're on sale and come with a top that says Boys Are Mean."
"Boys Are Mean?"
"Well, they are."
"Uh-huh."
"They are!"
"If you're five and having your hair pulled."
"Or if you're eighteen and being made fun of."
"Being made fun of? Sure you're not five?"
Veronica kicked out with her right foot and smiled when it connected with his knee. "Ah, the sweet, sweet sound of pain."
"I've got scissors, Mars."
"And I thought we were playing Show n Tell. Didn't you want to see my knee kicking technique?"
"Being a smartass is a way of life for you, isn't it?" He shook his head and cut further up her jeans, stopping when he saw skin. She was a little tanned with lines where shorts had been, making him assume she'd caught when taking her dog out to the beach.
"Get the sides and don't move."
A few more slices of the blades had him where her belt sat snug in the loops. "Next leg," and the same was done with the right leg of her jeans. Her right leg was just the same as the left, except for claw marks and faded white lines on her knee.
He glanced up to see Veronica with a quirky smile on her lips. "Backup and I shared a pizza."
Don had to laugh. He'd had his own experiences with that dog and its fondness for pizza, and he once had his own claw marks as proof.
She hadn't heard him laugh like that in a long time and she'd forgotten how nice it was. It was a nice sound. A little low and a bit hoarse, but nice, and made up of hee-hee-hee's that made him sound like a little boy who got away with the entire cookie jar.
He was still chuckling when he realised she hadn't spoken. "What?"
She blinked, his laughter echoing in her ears as memories surfaced. "Huh?"
"You zoned out there, Mars."
"Nah," she said, grateful for quickness of mind. "Just my earlier spliff taking effect."
Don shot her a blank look and didn't bother too respond to that one. "Take your belt off, Stoner. Faster I get your pants off, the faster we can play."
Veronica pressed her lips together as she waited for him to realise how that sounded. She saw the penny drop when his eyes closed and chin dropped down to his chest.
"Go ahead," he said, voice full of resignation. "Laugh."
"One," she replied and held up a single finger. "I'll give you this one."
"You're too kind. Belt."
"Bossy, aren't you?" Veronica had to shift a little in order to slide the belt through the loops dropped it into her bag, then frowned. "This is gonna be awkward."
Don tilted his head to one side as he took in her position and where he'd need to cut. He met her eyes. "Might be better if you get this bit," and handed the scissors over.
She gave a mocking little sob as she hacked away at the waist band on one side. It was a tough bit, but the blades were sharp, so there wasn't much of a problem. Yet she still blew out a hefty breath and took a rest before she attacked the other side before slicing through the crotch.
"Ha!" She yelled, punching the air with her fist. "I'm free!"
The sheriff moved to kneel in front of her and hesitated. This wasn't just some random tits and ass in his office, it was Veronica Mars. Daughter of his former mentor, perpetual thorn in his side, and Neptune's resident sneak.
Not to mention the girl who'd crushed on him for a good five or six years. He remembered seeing her blush each time he looked or smiled at her, how she'd smother girlish little giggles behind her hand, then whisper all about her secret love to Lily.
Her voice interrupted his thoughts. "Oh, for the love of..." and pulled the useless denim away from her, dropping it on top of her bag. "Well?"
Don blinked and then blinked again. There, on her body, were a pair of simple white cotton panties with bright yellow ducks. Ducks of all things. "Well what?"
Veronica sighed and treated him to a condescending look. "I'm on show, so now you tell. What's with my boots?"
She jumped a little when he grabbed both ankles, lifted both legs and gave them a jiggle, his lips spread into a smile that flashed his pearly whites. "Let's start here. Right at the tip of the toes you used to sneak into my office."
*~*~*
The black leather was starting to warm under his hands, the subtle shift in temperature making the material a little more supple. His thumbs eased down from where her toes were hidden and came to rest where foot met leg.
"What colour polish you wear?" He asked, his eyes going from the top of her boots to his hands and back again. "Pink? Blue?" His grin turned sharp, edgy. "Yellow to match those ducks?"
"So the not knowing gets you off?" Veronica asked with her own grin in place. "In that case... I'm not telling."
Don could stop the shiver if he tried. She always was quick on the up-take. "Then we got the ball and heel. Look, Mars. Look at the shape. Bare little toes all curled and this." His fingers moved to caress the arch, thumbs pressing just a little and, yeah. Her feet would look just like that when she came.
This time, she knew he had licked his lips.
She saw every milisecond of the action. Saw how pink his tongue was as it travelled from left to right and left his lips all shiny. It made her clench so suddenly, so tightly, she hissed. "Lamb, quit it."
Kneeling on the floor, directly between her legs, meant he hadn't missed a God damn thing. He watched the muscles in her stomach flex and thighs tighten in response to other muscles. Other, more private muscles that wanted him not to quit it.
"Then," he spoke, his voice was thick with early stages of arousal. "Then there's all this leather. All this shiny black leather. Makes a man wanna do all kindsa things."
Veronica watched the sheriff physically shiver, heard him groan, and felt him squeeze her calves. It was making her itch. She squirmed, trying to get some pressure where she needed it, but got nothing.
He hadn't done anything and she was getting off. How desperate was she?
Don was close enough to see her hips shift restlessly on his chair. Looked like he wasn't the only one affected. He kept going and focused his gaze on her pretty little face. "See how the leather fits your legs? See where leather turns to skin?"
This time it was her who licked her drying lips. Nodding, she followed his fingers as they traced a line up her boots, her breath faltering at the warm feel of his palms caressing her thighs. Up, down, up, down, softly, slowly, pausing at her knees before going higher.
Her skin was tingled from the tickle and she shifted forward, pushing herself closer and closer still. "Lamb."
So his name came out on a whine, sue her.
"All that is hidden by jeans." Chrissakes, she was getting wet and he was getting hard. "Pointless."
Veronica nodded again. When she spoke, her voice was breathy and quiet and he could stand to hear that tone muffled by his cock.
Now that... That was an image to keep him up at night.
Smartassed Veronica Mars on her knees, her baby blues looking up at him through her lashes, that tone made from swallowing a mouthful of his dick.
Fuck. His pants were tight and uncomfortable and he wanted them off.
"Talk to me, Mars," Don hissed. "Tell me something, anything. Just talk to me." So he was practically begging for it, sue him.
"If I promise no more jeans, can we play?"