BSG Fic...
A/N: Ok...this story comes from a conversation that unavitasegreta and I had a very long time ago about A/R and Arrested Development. In particular, one scene from the episode, "Visiting Ours." I promised her a crack!fic from the idea ages and ages ago... So this is just meant to be silly and smutty...I'm not so sure if it worked in the end. But I've decided to be an optimist and post anyways...
Disclaimer: All publically recognizable character, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Translation: I own nothing. Merely a laptop, battered 5-star notebook, and a fine point BIC pen. And this little story. The universe? SO not mine...
Kara felt like a fourteen-year-old again. Stuck in a room overstuffed with people she didn’t like, waiting for class to be over. Half of the room hanging onto every word, brimming with self-important questions and over-exaggerated interest. The rest bored out of their skulls. Gaeta droned on, the smartest kid in the room presenting his oral report for Teacher, complete with charts, maps, projections, and a frakking slide show. The urge to start chucking spitballs was almost overwhelming.
Kara needed a distraction. It was too damned hot. Summer on this part of the planet was shaping up to be a sticky, humid nightmare. Plucking at the scratchy collar of her uniform, she squirmed in her seat, hoping the hard slats would itch away the sweat drenching her back. The talk was too damn boring, and she already knew everything she needed to about the plans to convert the abandoned city into something habitable. She couldn’t even focus enough to daydream.
Her pen twirled through her fingers as she thought, tip bouncing off the table, heavy clacks resonating through the room in a sharp, irrythmic cacophony. Lee cleared his throat next to her, subtle warning clear.
Ignoring him with a roll of her eyes, Kara slouched further, focused on her new game. She’d just figured out how to spin the pen against the heel of her thumb when Lee took her toy away.
“Behave.” The elongated syllables dripped with reproach, silencing her unvoiced protest.
Kara gritted her teeth, muzzling the impulse to snap back. Gods, Lee could be such a prick. He’d surprised her, sitting in the corner with her instead of up front with the Quorum. She supposed it was a peace offering of sorts, another way of bringing her back into the fold. Of trying to make things the way they used to be. An important gesture, in the convoluted maze that was Lee’s brain.
He was still a prick.
Sulking, Kara crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the need to wriggle out of her jacket. Gaeta kept droning on, intent on detailing every, single, last thing that could be said about the settlement’s progress. As if anyone in the room cared what color they should paint the row houses.
A quick scan of the room proved it. Bored delegates, bored cylons, bored marines. Not one damn source of amusement. Not that it mattered; she knew what she was looking for. After all, if she wasn’t going to pay attention, she might as well watch them.
It was so obvious. It had happened so gradually, Kara couldn’t remember when she’d first noticed it. It could have been weeks, it could have been years. The subtle interplay was less guarded now, but no less delicate now that things were public.
Tension and chemistry had always colored their relationship, an unstoppable undercurrent that cut through everything else. Defined them and drew them together, linked them as their relationship evolved. As it grew into something inexorable, something unbreakable. Theirs was not a love story. But it might be the most romantic she’d ever known. Swirling up emotions she couldn’t even categorize.
Kara blinked and refocused. The Admiral looked just as bored as she felt, eyes intently focused on the tabletop. The President looked uncomfortable. Flushed, sweaty, and almost ill, small trails of red creeping out of her collar to color her cheeks. They were sitting too close, both uncharacteristically restless, arms and shoulders brushing as they readjusted their bodies.
The body language clicked. Sly looks that lingered far too long. Subtle touches that strayed far from the acceptable regions. Innocent grins and blank stares of false attention.
Oh yeah. The Old Man and the President were totally gonna get laid.
Inspiration struck. A wicked grin lit her face, growing almost manically as the idea grew. She looked over at Lee, again, taking a long moment to relish his obliviousness.
Revenge was fun.
###
Bill was bored. The whole thing had seemed like a good idea at first. Bring all the key players down to Earth for a day and let them see the place first hand. Find tangible progress to report to the masses..
Then Gaeta had started speaking.
Bill closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as he argued with his body. It wasn’t the kid’s fault that he was hot and uncomfortable. That he already knew all this. That he’d been half hard all damn day.
Laura shifted beside him. Crossing and uncrossing her legs. Unable to keep still. Unable to concentrate. A slight gasp captured his attention, her brow furrowing slightly as she winced. She was sore. So was he. His muscles ached for all the wrong reasons, frustrated by the uncomfortable chairs, by the heat, by the company. But mostly because he hadn’t finished frakking her that morning.
There was no way in hell he was going to pay attention. Instead, he focused on the fantasy that had been tugging at his brain for an hour. He wanted to soothe her muscles. Taste the sweet curve where her neck met her collarbone. Nuzzle into the shadowy cleavage swelling past the gap in her shirt. Lick and suck and fondle her breasts until she was writhing against him. Wrap those impossibly, long legs around his waist as they finished what they’d started this morning.
A sudden movement dragged his eyes from her chest. She crossed her legs again, foot brushing his calf. An accidental touch that lingered thoughtfully before retreating to a safe distance. Swinging bare breaths from his leg, close enough to rustle the leg of his trousers. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, burning into his skin through the fine wool. His fingers twitched against the table, itching with the need to taste her flesh.
Of all the risky and stupid ideas he’d had in his life, this might be the worst. He couldn’t believe he was even considering it. Shifting in his chair again, Bill dropped a hand to his lap and planned his attack. Slyly, he stretched his legs, spreading them carefully until his knee pressed against hers.
Laura inhaled sharply. Her fingers fluttered, dropping her pen to the table as she absorbed the casual contact. Adrenaline thrummed through his body, as his fingers slid down to glide over the silken skin of her calf.
###
Kara couldn’t believe her luck.
They were flirting. Openly. Brazenly. Absolutely un-frakking-deniably.
He shifted closer to her. Movements too practiced. Too obviously casual. Adama’s left hand clutched his pencil, pushing his blank notepad with the eraser. Unsuccessfully diverting the eye for when his right disappeared under the table. Roslin gasped, hitch in her breathing just barely audible over Gaeta’s monotone. Started slightly, warring with her better judgment before tilting her lower body towards his.
Kara couldn’t sit still, practically bouncing in her seat as she plotted her attack. A quick glance confirmed Lee’s continued ignorance. He was so prim and proper. So stuffy and perfect. Such a gods-damned boy scout. Rigid spine at attention despite the miserable chair. Suit pristine, not a crease to be seen despite the stifling weather. And he was actually listening to Gaeta’s endless rambling.
And blissfully oblivious to the heated subtext not ten feet to his right.
###
Laura bit her lip hard at the contact, swallowing the moan that formed the second Bill’s fingers touched her over-sensitized skin. Sealing her eyes tight, she held her breath, praying she was imagining the touch.
She wasn’t.
The very tips of his fingers crept up her calf, ghosting across her kneecap before following a new line down her leg to trace her ankle. A bolt of desire shot through her stomach, reawakening the ache she’d never managed to sate.
Frak.
She needed him to behave. She didn’t trust herself today. She was too keyed up. Too distracted to concentrate. She’d barely made it through the endless rounds of pleasantries, patience near gone as she snapped at politician after politician. Worn far too thin from sexual frustration.
“Bill,” Laura leaned into him, hand gripping his bicep. A request for intimate support to the rest of the room. A desperate attempt to still his fingers. His fingers delighted at the new angle, cupping the toned calf muscle warmly before sketching tiny circles onto leg. “What the frak do you think you’re doing?”
The corners of his mouth twitched, side nearest her curling into a lazy, lusty grin that told her everything she needed to know.
“Thinking about how I want to frak you.”
###
The President leaned into the Old Man. Her hand gripped his arm, raw desire flashing in her eyes as she murmured something into his ear. A lazy smirk worked across his face, lecherous intent clear to anyone with half a brain.
Oh yeah, this was going to be fun.
Kara snickered before she could stop herself. The laughter pushed Lee too far, “Stop it, Kara” He shushed through clenched teeth, careful to keep quiet.
“Stop what?” The innocent look didn’t fool him. Which was fine by her.
“You’re up to something.”
“Nope.” Not yet.
Kara leaned forward, propping her forearms against the table, pitching her voice so only he could hear her. Angled her body so she’d have the best view of his face. And went in for the kill.
“Just watching to see how long it takes for the Old Man and the President get out of here and frak.”
###
For a heartbeat, Laura forgot where they were. Forgot everything but the hard muscle under her hand. The swirling caresses burning across her skin. Her lungs filled with his scent, warm and earthy and masculine and delicious.
He was sitting too close. She couldn’t stop looking at him. Hair mussed from the summery breeze. Jacket unbuttoned in a small concession to the humid weather. The wool overheated his skin anyway, tiny beads of sweat pricking along his collar. She watched one form, stubbornly clinging to the hollow of his neck before losing its battle, gliding slowly, down his chest to disappear underneath his tanks.
She wanted to lick it off.
Her nails dug into his arm. She could feel herself leaning closer. Wanted to slant her mouth over his and kiss that grin off his face. It was everything she could do not to sprawl him across the table and take him right there.
She wanted to finish what they’d started that morning. She’d woken slowly, brain desperate to catch up with her body. Senses already overloaded. Bill’s mouth nipped at her neck, tongue tracing messily across her shoulder blades. Bill’s hands splayed across her hips, trailing tiny circles against her skin. Bill’s heavy cock thickening against the swell of her ass.
She’d arched her neck, offering his mouth a greater canvas. Burrowed back against his cock, hips rolling sensually, sighs turning into low moans when he twitched against her, already so very hard. His palms flattened against her skin. One cupped a breast, tweaking a nipple with clever fingers. The other slid between her thighs, fondling as much of the soft skin as he could before dipping into her wetness.
Her aides had the worst godsdamned timing.
She’d almost screamed when the phone rang, freezing Bill’s busy fingers a breath away from her clit. He’d dropped his head against the nape of her neck, groaning gasps tattooing his frustration into her skin.
They’d risen reluctantly, silently cursing the change in schedule, bodies still humming with unsated desire. Bill hadn’t stopped. His hands skimmed her hips as he stepped around her and into the shower. His mouth tasted that spot behind her ear as she’d gotten dressed. His fingers lingered over hers as he held out her coffee. His eyes devoured the curves hidden under the impeccable suit.
Her new aide’s untimely appearance was the only thing that kept her from frakking the meeting and frakking Bill on the damn couch.
Oh gods.
She needed to stop this.
Laura jerked her hand back from his thigh, wondering just how it had gotten there without her permission. Folding her hands tightly on the table, she uncrossed her legs and sat upright, determined glare warning him to behave. The unexpected movement dislodged Bill’s hand, dropping it to hang uselessly between them. She nearly groaned in frustration at the lost contact, then again as her thighs rubbed against each other. She varied the pressure, searching for just the right amount. The mix that would clear her head and let her think again. That would calm her breathing and cool the flush painting her cheeks. That would restore her control.
Bill chuckled softly, dropping his hand back into her lap when she settled, fingers toying with the hem of her skirt.
Laura was going to kill him. After she frakked his brains out.
###
Comprehension dawned gradually. Lee’s face twisted, distorting into a mishmash of horror and disgust. He turned towards her comically slow, eyes begging her to take it back, hoping vainly that he’d misheard her.
“See, Leland,” Kara explained, brimming with unrepentant glee, “Sometimes when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, they get really freaky and frak whenever possible”
“Gods what’s wrong with you?” Lee hissed, voice tight, struggling to stay quiet. Color drained from his face. His fists clenched tightly as he launched himself into denial. “They don’t do that.”
Kara snickered, cocky grin lighting up her face. This was way better than she’d hoped.
“Oh they totally do. And they’re totally gonna. The Prez stopped paying attention about ten minutes ago. And the only place he’s been looking is down her shirt.”
###
Bill watched the struggle play out in her eyes, impressed at the stoicism of her expression. At the steadiness of her voice. Her spine straightened as she came to a decision. As she glared back, brow tilting in a wordless challenge. She tossed her head to the side, leaning forward and folding her arms attentively as she refocusing on the presentation. Her lower body angled towards his, suddenly bare foot wrapping around his leg, slipping under his trousers until she found bare skin.
Suddenly, he needed to hear her. Hear her voice catch in her throat. The little humming noises she made when she was aroused. Hear her voice gasping his name. Screaming it at the top of her lungs.
His fingers detoured under the hem of her skirt. She closed her eyes, air rushing out of her lungs as he grew more daring, slyly pushing the fabric aside and slipping against the bare skin of her thighs.
Laura should have stopped things right there, clamping her legs shut and trapping his hand. The table didn’t offer nearly enough cover for this. The room was filled with aides, officers, delegates, cylons, all sorts of people who would want to know what the Admiral was doing to the President under the table.
She scooted forward to the edge of the chair, legs spreading a few precious inches. Just enough to grant tacit permission. His fingers needed no more encouragement, sliding past her knee and exploring the familiar skin of her thigh. The heat from his palm scorched her nerves as his fingers danced across her flesh. Light touches at first, whispery and unpredictable. Then long sure strokes that crept up her legs, mapping the muscles, the texture of her skin, the sensitive spots that hitched her breathing.
Laura gnawed her lower lip, nipping it as his hand wandered further up her thigh. Her tongue laved the sting from the bite. In her mind, it was his mouth, his tongue soothing the sting. Licking into her mouth and kissing her hard. She was struggling, catching every fifth word of Gaeta’s monotone. Nodding in what she hoped were the right spots. Checking her skirt out of the corner of her eye, amazed at Bill’s dexterity. At the odd angle of his arm.
Her hands clasped the edge of the table, knuckles white with the strain. Laura didn’t trust herself, didn’t trust her hands. One of them needed to behave. She wouldn’t be able to stop if she touched him.
They were so going to get caught.
###
“They’re doing it all the time you know.” Kara leaned forward, voice dropping, eyes gleaming with mischief as she started to embellish. “Can’t keep their hands off each other. They’re never on time for meetings. No one will go near her office at the end of the day. The door to the Ward Room was locked for hours after the last staff meeting. Some of the pilots swear they even heard them in one of the supply closets. The Old Man’s always tugging his collar up, hiding the hickeys on his neck. And I swear the Prez is walking funny half the time…”
“Shut up, Kara.”
“Fine. Then think about this... Where’s the Old Man’s right hand?”
Lee was starting to look vaguely sick. Kara couldn’t help herself.
“Daddy horny, Leland.” She choked out before exploding with laughter at the look on his face.
###
Her body was on fire. Tiny gasps escaped her throat as she struggled to control her breathing. Her calf wouldn’t stop moving, winding tighter around his, rubbing sensuously against his bare skin. Hiking her skirt up even further for his hand. Her hips rolled against the hard seat, subtle movements a poor echo of the friction she wanted.
His fingers took advantage, sliding even further up her skirt, twisting his arm almost comically as he reached higher than she thought possible. She wondered if he could feel her heat. If he could feel the wetness soaking her panties. She was so frakking wet.
“Get us out of here so I can frak you properly.”
The low rumble sliced through her, fanning the desire pooling in her stomach. His fingers brushed even higher, she jerked upwards chair scraping awkwardly against the floor just as Gaeta finally stopped speaking.
Laura saw her chance.
###
Lee watched in horror as Laura gasped and jerked upwards, knuckles white as her hands gripped the table. For a horrifying moment, he thought she was about to turn into his father and vomit all over the floor.
Even sick, Laura managed to command the room.
“Thank you, Lieutenant, for very informative report. I’m sure some of the delegates may have questions. However, I think we should hold those until later in the afternoon. It has been a long morning. I think we could all use a break for lunch.”
Laura’s voice sounded weak, reedy. It strengthened slightly as she spoke, as she gathered her resolve. As the Old Man shifted beside her, sliding his hand back onto the top of the table and feigning interest in her words. Kara bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing out loud.
People jumped to their feet the moment she stopped speaking, streaming outdoors in search of a break. Lee watched Laura struggle to her feet, balance gone. His father was at her side in an instant, hand grasping her elbow and steadying her. Weaving one arm carefully through his, protecting her illusion of composure.
“What’s the matter,” Kara taunted through fits of laughter, voice rising, almost too loud for the buzz of the crowd. “Is poor Little Leland freaked out because Mommy and Daddy are having sex?”
“Shut. Up. Kara.” He ordered through gritted teeth, unnerved both by the images she was painting and the too-noisy way she was torturing him. If he was going to be teased - which needed to stop now - they needed to keep it quiet.
Lee watched his father lead Laura out of the building, supporting her too-thin frame. She leaned heavily on him, eyes lowered, shielding her frailty. The last thing they needed was to hear Kara spreading salacious, untrue, absurd gossip.
more...
Disclaimer: All publically recognizable character, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Translation: I own nothing. Merely a laptop, battered 5-star notebook, and a fine point BIC pen. And this little story. The universe? SO not mine...
Kara felt like a fourteen-year-old again. Stuck in a room overstuffed with people she didn’t like, waiting for class to be over. Half of the room hanging onto every word, brimming with self-important questions and over-exaggerated interest. The rest bored out of their skulls. Gaeta droned on, the smartest kid in the room presenting his oral report for Teacher, complete with charts, maps, projections, and a frakking slide show. The urge to start chucking spitballs was almost overwhelming.
Kara needed a distraction. It was too damned hot. Summer on this part of the planet was shaping up to be a sticky, humid nightmare. Plucking at the scratchy collar of her uniform, she squirmed in her seat, hoping the hard slats would itch away the sweat drenching her back. The talk was too damn boring, and she already knew everything she needed to about the plans to convert the abandoned city into something habitable. She couldn’t even focus enough to daydream.
Her pen twirled through her fingers as she thought, tip bouncing off the table, heavy clacks resonating through the room in a sharp, irrythmic cacophony. Lee cleared his throat next to her, subtle warning clear.
Ignoring him with a roll of her eyes, Kara slouched further, focused on her new game. She’d just figured out how to spin the pen against the heel of her thumb when Lee took her toy away.
“Behave.” The elongated syllables dripped with reproach, silencing her unvoiced protest.
Kara gritted her teeth, muzzling the impulse to snap back. Gods, Lee could be such a prick. He’d surprised her, sitting in the corner with her instead of up front with the Quorum. She supposed it was a peace offering of sorts, another way of bringing her back into the fold. Of trying to make things the way they used to be. An important gesture, in the convoluted maze that was Lee’s brain.
He was still a prick.
Sulking, Kara crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the need to wriggle out of her jacket. Gaeta kept droning on, intent on detailing every, single, last thing that could be said about the settlement’s progress. As if anyone in the room cared what color they should paint the row houses.
A quick scan of the room proved it. Bored delegates, bored cylons, bored marines. Not one damn source of amusement. Not that it mattered; she knew what she was looking for. After all, if she wasn’t going to pay attention, she might as well watch them.
It was so obvious. It had happened so gradually, Kara couldn’t remember when she’d first noticed it. It could have been weeks, it could have been years. The subtle interplay was less guarded now, but no less delicate now that things were public.
Tension and chemistry had always colored their relationship, an unstoppable undercurrent that cut through everything else. Defined them and drew them together, linked them as their relationship evolved. As it grew into something inexorable, something unbreakable. Theirs was not a love story. But it might be the most romantic she’d ever known. Swirling up emotions she couldn’t even categorize.
Kara blinked and refocused. The Admiral looked just as bored as she felt, eyes intently focused on the tabletop. The President looked uncomfortable. Flushed, sweaty, and almost ill, small trails of red creeping out of her collar to color her cheeks. They were sitting too close, both uncharacteristically restless, arms and shoulders brushing as they readjusted their bodies.
The body language clicked. Sly looks that lingered far too long. Subtle touches that strayed far from the acceptable regions. Innocent grins and blank stares of false attention.
Oh yeah. The Old Man and the President were totally gonna get laid.
Inspiration struck. A wicked grin lit her face, growing almost manically as the idea grew. She looked over at Lee, again, taking a long moment to relish his obliviousness.
Revenge was fun.
###
Bill was bored. The whole thing had seemed like a good idea at first. Bring all the key players down to Earth for a day and let them see the place first hand. Find tangible progress to report to the masses..
Then Gaeta had started speaking.
Bill closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as he argued with his body. It wasn’t the kid’s fault that he was hot and uncomfortable. That he already knew all this. That he’d been half hard all damn day.
Laura shifted beside him. Crossing and uncrossing her legs. Unable to keep still. Unable to concentrate. A slight gasp captured his attention, her brow furrowing slightly as she winced. She was sore. So was he. His muscles ached for all the wrong reasons, frustrated by the uncomfortable chairs, by the heat, by the company. But mostly because he hadn’t finished frakking her that morning.
There was no way in hell he was going to pay attention. Instead, he focused on the fantasy that had been tugging at his brain for an hour. He wanted to soothe her muscles. Taste the sweet curve where her neck met her collarbone. Nuzzle into the shadowy cleavage swelling past the gap in her shirt. Lick and suck and fondle her breasts until she was writhing against him. Wrap those impossibly, long legs around his waist as they finished what they’d started this morning.
A sudden movement dragged his eyes from her chest. She crossed her legs again, foot brushing his calf. An accidental touch that lingered thoughtfully before retreating to a safe distance. Swinging bare breaths from his leg, close enough to rustle the leg of his trousers. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, burning into his skin through the fine wool. His fingers twitched against the table, itching with the need to taste her flesh.
Of all the risky and stupid ideas he’d had in his life, this might be the worst. He couldn’t believe he was even considering it. Shifting in his chair again, Bill dropped a hand to his lap and planned his attack. Slyly, he stretched his legs, spreading them carefully until his knee pressed against hers.
Laura inhaled sharply. Her fingers fluttered, dropping her pen to the table as she absorbed the casual contact. Adrenaline thrummed through his body, as his fingers slid down to glide over the silken skin of her calf.
###
Kara couldn’t believe her luck.
They were flirting. Openly. Brazenly. Absolutely un-frakking-deniably.
He shifted closer to her. Movements too practiced. Too obviously casual. Adama’s left hand clutched his pencil, pushing his blank notepad with the eraser. Unsuccessfully diverting the eye for when his right disappeared under the table. Roslin gasped, hitch in her breathing just barely audible over Gaeta’s monotone. Started slightly, warring with her better judgment before tilting her lower body towards his.
Kara couldn’t sit still, practically bouncing in her seat as she plotted her attack. A quick glance confirmed Lee’s continued ignorance. He was so prim and proper. So stuffy and perfect. Such a gods-damned boy scout. Rigid spine at attention despite the miserable chair. Suit pristine, not a crease to be seen despite the stifling weather. And he was actually listening to Gaeta’s endless rambling.
And blissfully oblivious to the heated subtext not ten feet to his right.
###
Laura bit her lip hard at the contact, swallowing the moan that formed the second Bill’s fingers touched her over-sensitized skin. Sealing her eyes tight, she held her breath, praying she was imagining the touch.
She wasn’t.
The very tips of his fingers crept up her calf, ghosting across her kneecap before following a new line down her leg to trace her ankle. A bolt of desire shot through her stomach, reawakening the ache she’d never managed to sate.
Frak.
She needed him to behave. She didn’t trust herself today. She was too keyed up. Too distracted to concentrate. She’d barely made it through the endless rounds of pleasantries, patience near gone as she snapped at politician after politician. Worn far too thin from sexual frustration.
“Bill,” Laura leaned into him, hand gripping his bicep. A request for intimate support to the rest of the room. A desperate attempt to still his fingers. His fingers delighted at the new angle, cupping the toned calf muscle warmly before sketching tiny circles onto leg. “What the frak do you think you’re doing?”
The corners of his mouth twitched, side nearest her curling into a lazy, lusty grin that told her everything she needed to know.
“Thinking about how I want to frak you.”
###
The President leaned into the Old Man. Her hand gripped his arm, raw desire flashing in her eyes as she murmured something into his ear. A lazy smirk worked across his face, lecherous intent clear to anyone with half a brain.
Oh yeah, this was going to be fun.
Kara snickered before she could stop herself. The laughter pushed Lee too far, “Stop it, Kara” He shushed through clenched teeth, careful to keep quiet.
“Stop what?” The innocent look didn’t fool him. Which was fine by her.
“You’re up to something.”
“Nope.” Not yet.
Kara leaned forward, propping her forearms against the table, pitching her voice so only he could hear her. Angled her body so she’d have the best view of his face. And went in for the kill.
“Just watching to see how long it takes for the Old Man and the President get out of here and frak.”
###
For a heartbeat, Laura forgot where they were. Forgot everything but the hard muscle under her hand. The swirling caresses burning across her skin. Her lungs filled with his scent, warm and earthy and masculine and delicious.
He was sitting too close. She couldn’t stop looking at him. Hair mussed from the summery breeze. Jacket unbuttoned in a small concession to the humid weather. The wool overheated his skin anyway, tiny beads of sweat pricking along his collar. She watched one form, stubbornly clinging to the hollow of his neck before losing its battle, gliding slowly, down his chest to disappear underneath his tanks.
She wanted to lick it off.
Her nails dug into his arm. She could feel herself leaning closer. Wanted to slant her mouth over his and kiss that grin off his face. It was everything she could do not to sprawl him across the table and take him right there.
She wanted to finish what they’d started that morning. She’d woken slowly, brain desperate to catch up with her body. Senses already overloaded. Bill’s mouth nipped at her neck, tongue tracing messily across her shoulder blades. Bill’s hands splayed across her hips, trailing tiny circles against her skin. Bill’s heavy cock thickening against the swell of her ass.
She’d arched her neck, offering his mouth a greater canvas. Burrowed back against his cock, hips rolling sensually, sighs turning into low moans when he twitched against her, already so very hard. His palms flattened against her skin. One cupped a breast, tweaking a nipple with clever fingers. The other slid between her thighs, fondling as much of the soft skin as he could before dipping into her wetness.
Her aides had the worst godsdamned timing.
She’d almost screamed when the phone rang, freezing Bill’s busy fingers a breath away from her clit. He’d dropped his head against the nape of her neck, groaning gasps tattooing his frustration into her skin.
They’d risen reluctantly, silently cursing the change in schedule, bodies still humming with unsated desire. Bill hadn’t stopped. His hands skimmed her hips as he stepped around her and into the shower. His mouth tasted that spot behind her ear as she’d gotten dressed. His fingers lingered over hers as he held out her coffee. His eyes devoured the curves hidden under the impeccable suit.
Her new aide’s untimely appearance was the only thing that kept her from frakking the meeting and frakking Bill on the damn couch.
Oh gods.
She needed to stop this.
Laura jerked her hand back from his thigh, wondering just how it had gotten there without her permission. Folding her hands tightly on the table, she uncrossed her legs and sat upright, determined glare warning him to behave. The unexpected movement dislodged Bill’s hand, dropping it to hang uselessly between them. She nearly groaned in frustration at the lost contact, then again as her thighs rubbed against each other. She varied the pressure, searching for just the right amount. The mix that would clear her head and let her think again. That would calm her breathing and cool the flush painting her cheeks. That would restore her control.
Bill chuckled softly, dropping his hand back into her lap when she settled, fingers toying with the hem of her skirt.
Laura was going to kill him. After she frakked his brains out.
###
Comprehension dawned gradually. Lee’s face twisted, distorting into a mishmash of horror and disgust. He turned towards her comically slow, eyes begging her to take it back, hoping vainly that he’d misheard her.
“See, Leland,” Kara explained, brimming with unrepentant glee, “Sometimes when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, they get really freaky and frak whenever possible”
“Gods what’s wrong with you?” Lee hissed, voice tight, struggling to stay quiet. Color drained from his face. His fists clenched tightly as he launched himself into denial. “They don’t do that.”
Kara snickered, cocky grin lighting up her face. This was way better than she’d hoped.
“Oh they totally do. And they’re totally gonna. The Prez stopped paying attention about ten minutes ago. And the only place he’s been looking is down her shirt.”
###
Bill watched the struggle play out in her eyes, impressed at the stoicism of her expression. At the steadiness of her voice. Her spine straightened as she came to a decision. As she glared back, brow tilting in a wordless challenge. She tossed her head to the side, leaning forward and folding her arms attentively as she refocusing on the presentation. Her lower body angled towards his, suddenly bare foot wrapping around his leg, slipping under his trousers until she found bare skin.
Suddenly, he needed to hear her. Hear her voice catch in her throat. The little humming noises she made when she was aroused. Hear her voice gasping his name. Screaming it at the top of her lungs.
His fingers detoured under the hem of her skirt. She closed her eyes, air rushing out of her lungs as he grew more daring, slyly pushing the fabric aside and slipping against the bare skin of her thighs.
Laura should have stopped things right there, clamping her legs shut and trapping his hand. The table didn’t offer nearly enough cover for this. The room was filled with aides, officers, delegates, cylons, all sorts of people who would want to know what the Admiral was doing to the President under the table.
She scooted forward to the edge of the chair, legs spreading a few precious inches. Just enough to grant tacit permission. His fingers needed no more encouragement, sliding past her knee and exploring the familiar skin of her thigh. The heat from his palm scorched her nerves as his fingers danced across her flesh. Light touches at first, whispery and unpredictable. Then long sure strokes that crept up her legs, mapping the muscles, the texture of her skin, the sensitive spots that hitched her breathing.
Laura gnawed her lower lip, nipping it as his hand wandered further up her thigh. Her tongue laved the sting from the bite. In her mind, it was his mouth, his tongue soothing the sting. Licking into her mouth and kissing her hard. She was struggling, catching every fifth word of Gaeta’s monotone. Nodding in what she hoped were the right spots. Checking her skirt out of the corner of her eye, amazed at Bill’s dexterity. At the odd angle of his arm.
Her hands clasped the edge of the table, knuckles white with the strain. Laura didn’t trust herself, didn’t trust her hands. One of them needed to behave. She wouldn’t be able to stop if she touched him.
They were so going to get caught.
###
“They’re doing it all the time you know.” Kara leaned forward, voice dropping, eyes gleaming with mischief as she started to embellish. “Can’t keep their hands off each other. They’re never on time for meetings. No one will go near her office at the end of the day. The door to the Ward Room was locked for hours after the last staff meeting. Some of the pilots swear they even heard them in one of the supply closets. The Old Man’s always tugging his collar up, hiding the hickeys on his neck. And I swear the Prez is walking funny half the time…”
“Shut up, Kara.”
“Fine. Then think about this... Where’s the Old Man’s right hand?”
Lee was starting to look vaguely sick. Kara couldn’t help herself.
“Daddy horny, Leland.” She choked out before exploding with laughter at the look on his face.
###
Her body was on fire. Tiny gasps escaped her throat as she struggled to control her breathing. Her calf wouldn’t stop moving, winding tighter around his, rubbing sensuously against his bare skin. Hiking her skirt up even further for his hand. Her hips rolled against the hard seat, subtle movements a poor echo of the friction she wanted.
His fingers took advantage, sliding even further up her skirt, twisting his arm almost comically as he reached higher than she thought possible. She wondered if he could feel her heat. If he could feel the wetness soaking her panties. She was so frakking wet.
“Get us out of here so I can frak you properly.”
The low rumble sliced through her, fanning the desire pooling in her stomach. His fingers brushed even higher, she jerked upwards chair scraping awkwardly against the floor just as Gaeta finally stopped speaking.
Laura saw her chance.
###
Lee watched in horror as Laura gasped and jerked upwards, knuckles white as her hands gripped the table. For a horrifying moment, he thought she was about to turn into his father and vomit all over the floor.
Even sick, Laura managed to command the room.
“Thank you, Lieutenant, for very informative report. I’m sure some of the delegates may have questions. However, I think we should hold those until later in the afternoon. It has been a long morning. I think we could all use a break for lunch.”
Laura’s voice sounded weak, reedy. It strengthened slightly as she spoke, as she gathered her resolve. As the Old Man shifted beside her, sliding his hand back onto the top of the table and feigning interest in her words. Kara bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing out loud.
People jumped to their feet the moment she stopped speaking, streaming outdoors in search of a break. Lee watched Laura struggle to her feet, balance gone. His father was at her side in an instant, hand grasping her elbow and steadying her. Weaving one arm carefully through his, protecting her illusion of composure.
“What’s the matter,” Kara taunted through fits of laughter, voice rising, almost too loud for the buzz of the crowd. “Is poor Little Leland freaked out because Mommy and Daddy are having sex?”
“Shut. Up. Kara.” He ordered through gritted teeth, unnerved both by the images she was painting and the too-noisy way she was torturing him. If he was going to be teased - which needed to stop now - they needed to keep it quiet.
Lee watched his father lead Laura out of the building, supporting her too-thin frame. She leaned heavily on him, eyes lowered, shielding her frailty. The last thing they needed was to hear Kara spreading salacious, untrue, absurd gossip.
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