Aaah, it’s been a long time. This is to tide you over, although I haven’t run it past Dubbs so she may flay me alive.

Here’s the last two chapters, for a reminder.

Ep 6.1

Ep 6.2

Rating: X. Over 18s only. Contains sexual content.

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Steal Me, Ep 6.3 [clomle44]

She couldn’t explain why she’d done it.

Seeing Spencer at her door had not been the greatest end to a less-than-perfect day. It was hard enough for Ashley to be obsessing over the reporter, but it was a hell of a lot easier to ignore her feelings when the blonde wasn’t sitting on her damn couch.

But Ashley had been unable to turn Spencer away. The look of sadness and defeat in the other girl’s eyes had been too much, so she’d let her in.

She’d regretted it nearly straight away, which had made her more clipped and irritated than she had intended to be. Spencer’s own temper had just added to the problem. So, Ashley had finally told her to leave.

The blonde had gotten up to do so.

And Ashley should have let her. She really should have.

She really shouldn’t have reached out to grab the reporter’s wrist, and nearly moaned at the feeling of Spencer’s soft skin. She really shouldn’t have pulled her around. She’d only intended to apologise, to tell her she could stay.

At least, she had, until she’d seen those blue, blue eyes.

God Almighty, she was so sprung.

Spencer’s lips were so soft. And, when they parted under hers, she couldn’t stop herself. She pulled the blonde into her arms and kissed her hard. It was so good she could have fainted. There was a faint gasp of surprise at the embrace, and Spencer’s hands were tentative on her shoulders.

And then the soft lips under her own had parted more and Ashley had been so lost she couldn’t have saved herself for all the world. Kissing Spencer was like all her wet dreams come true. She had to stop herself from turning them around, slamming the blonde up against a wall and ripping her clothes of in one fell swoop.

Instead, she concentrated on tasting the girl she was embracing, running her tongue across her upper lip, and then her lower lip. She nearly whimpered when Spencer’s mouth angled and the kiss deepened. Ashley’s head swam as she darted her tongue into the other woman’s warm mouth and felt a responding tongue touch her own.

The kiss went on and on, heating up in leaping increments. Any second, she’d forget who she was and fall to the floor. Any second now, she’d start begging for more.

Except Spencer broke away from her, pushing her body away from the musician’s. Ashley could see the blonde was panting, and then realised that she was panting too. They stared at each other for long, long seconds. It was only when the brunette’s hand moved almost imperceptibly forward, wanting to pull her back in, that the reporter backed off, first one step, then two.

Ashley couldn’t tear her eyes from Spencer’s face. The blonde looked all sorts of confused, more so than she had when she’d arrived. Three steps backwards and the journalist spun on her heel, wrenching open the door and leaving, slamming it shut behind her.

It nearly made the musican wail, except she knew she shouldn’t.

What had made her do that? She’d completely lost her cool. That didn’t happen very often, nor did her almost complete loss of control.

One thing was certain: she’d remember that kiss as long as she lived. That was probably a good thing, since there was unlikely to ever be another one. She was almost one-hundred percent sure that Spencer would have a restraining order out on her by the morning.

She leaned against the wall near her entryway, eyes closed and heart still pounding. Her knees were shaking and she wasn’t sure she could make it to her bedroom without keeling over. That was pathetic, but it was the God’s honest truth. It had been a long day. Perhaps that hadn’t been the best way to end it.

Her ears registered the door slamming open again a sliver of a second before Spencer’s mouth hit hers again.

In one swift move, Ashley’s eyes flew open, her hands flew up to the blonde’s face and her mouth parted in a sudden questioning of what the hell was happening. That opening was apparently all the journalist needed. Before the brunette could stop it, Spencer’s tongue was pushing into her mouth in a kiss so thoroughly deep it was nearly illegal.

She whimpered. She actually whimpered.

Before grabbing some sense and pushing back from the wall.

Spencer’s mouth came loose with a gasp of surprise. In another remarkably swift movement, Ashley slammed the door shut and spun the blonde around, pinning her up against the wall. Before there could be a moment of protest, she caught those exquisitely soft lips in another searing kiss.

This time, she used her whole body to hold Spencer in place, pushing them together from shoulder to hip. One hand moved up to the journalist’s hair, making it easier to slant her mouth again. As the kiss deepened – Spencer accepting it eagerly – Ashley’s other hand moved of its own accord, finding its way down from Spencer’s shoulder to the mound of her perfectly sized breast.

As her hand covered the soft flesh, her mind flashed up a thought that it was too fast, too damn fast, but she couldn’t stop. Her need for the blonde was overcoming any inhibitions she might ever have had. The girl had gotten under her skin and the only way she was going to be able to fight it was to take her.

Maybe right here up against the wall.

The picture of Spencer, pinned to the wall by the brunette’s own body, legs up around the musician’s waist while a hand pumped in and out of her, was almost too much.

Ashley’s mouth broke off from the kiss, muttering a curse word as she used her hand to move Spencer’s head. A long, slender, white neck beckoned, just begging for her mouth. She kissed down, loving the little whimpers coming from the blonde’s mouth. She started off gentle, kissing and sucking, licking her way down, until she got to the other girl’s pulse point. Unable to help herself she bit down, relishing in the cry that flew from Spencer’s lips. Gently, she soothed with her tongue, feeling the blonde wriggle against her. Spencer’s nipple hardened under her hand.

God, she was getting right into it. No doubt about it: Spencer wanted her.

Ashley would bet that if she slid her hand down now, past the waistband of the blonde’s neat slacks, that she’d find her wet.

The thought made her shudder, the vibrations moving into the girl she had pinned to the wall. That same girl now moved her head, searching out her lips again. As they kissed, harder and harder, Ashley felt her whole body change. A charge ran through her. Half of her was pushing to go for it, do this now and do it hard and fast, take Spencer in a whirlwind until she’d literally fucked her brains out.

But the voice in the back of her head was telling her to slow down. It was saying that, if she took her time, she could drive the blonde absolutely wild, possibly even have her begging for release.

Oh God, that idea was tantalising.

And then a third voice spoke. The fucking damn voice of reason. Was she even in her own head? This wasn’t some casual encounter from a club; this was Spencer, one of the few people on the planet she actually respected.

This was the woman she was starting to have genuine feelings for.

Ashley broke their lips apart again, moving her hand from Spencer’s chest to the wall, the other hand finding purchase on the same wall on the other side of the blonde’s head. She buried her head in the journalist’s neck, breathing hard and fast.

She stayed there, inhaling the blonde’s scent and trying not to let it drive her back to wild. She needed to get a hold on things, actually get some straight thoughts into her head. Spencer’s hands gripped the back of her shirt, lightly at first, then drawing in. The half-scratch, half-caress across her back made Ashley shiver again.

“Ash?” the blonde questioned breathlessly.

The brunette pulled her head back up, staring into those amazing blue eyes again.

“I… Spencer…” It was hard to talk with the girl right here in her arms. And not just in her arms, but still pressed against her so tightly. Ashley’s eyes drifted down to the soft lips in front of her, and then back up. “I… do you…”

The unfinished question hung in the air until Spencer’s hands tightened on her back again. “Please,” came the breathless whisper. “I want you. I need you. I need this.”

Groaning, Ashley let her head go back down, this time in a kiss that was more tentative, and softer. She took her time to taste, exploring Spencer’s lips, drawing the girl’s bottom lip between her teeth and biting gently, relishing in the sexy moan that was released in response.

Spencer wanted her. Spencer needed her. That was enough. But she had to slow it down, make it good, make it last for a little while.

Make her come so fucking hard.

Moaning back, she pulled the blonde away from the wall. Keeping their bodies tight against each other, she wrapped one arm around the girl’s waist and the other hand went up to anchor their heads together. She could feel the soft hair at the nape of Spencer’s neck tickling the palm of her hand and it felt strangely good. Given that she was kissing the hell out of her again, it seemed strange that such a small thing would take her notice.

Her hand anchored in Spencer’s hair, Ashley pulled them towards the bedroom. Their mouths parted as the movement jolted them, but each time the aching musician brought them back together.

She didn’t feel like she had a choice: kissing the blonde was a drug. She stopped in the short hallway, letting the reporter pin her to the wall. Now it was Spencer’s turn for hands to wander. Ashley gasped as a palm slid down and cupped her breast outside her shirt. Her nipple hardened immediately. Another moan fell from her mouth as the blonde’s lips slid from hers and moved to the angle of her jaw, kissing hot, wet kisses towards her ear. A thumb brushed the rock hard tip of her breast through two layers of clothing yet still causing volcanic eruptions throughout her body.

Their lower bodies clashed, hips pushing against each other.

It wasn’t enough.

Despite the fact that they weren’t kissing, Ashley couldn’t get enough air. She couldn’t drag enough into her lungs to get oxygen to her brain. She cried out, arching her body off the wall and pushing the two of them back into the hall.

“Bedroom,” she whimpered. “Oh God, Spencer. Bedroom.”

Taking the blonde by the hand, she dragged her through the open door to her room and whirled around again, bringing them back together.

Their lips met again, hot and hard. The brunette’s were already aching from so much contact and from that brief lack that had just been. Raking her hands through Spencer’s hair, she held them together until the blonde whimpered and started to sway under her.

For a moment she thought perhaps she’d just denied the girl air but, when Ashley briefly pulled away, the hand that was in her own hair pulled her back, Spencer whimpering harder at the loss.

Oh yeah. It was that good.

Chemistry: check.

Hot girl in her bedroom: double check.

Hot, wet, aching sex about to be had: triple check.

Any thoughts about the appropriateness of this moment were no longer allowed in the musician’s head as she ran her hands down to the edge of the long-sleeved top that Spencer wore and ducked under the edge. Hot skin met her fingertips.

Walking them backwards, Ashley let their lips part as Spencer made a surprised noise. The back of the reporter’s knees had hit the bed and now she tumbled back onto it.

The brunette took a brief moment to appreciate the scene before her. Every wet dream of the past few months was laying right there: blonde hair, spread across the bed loosely; Spencer’s lips swollen and parted; her blue eyes bright with arousal and need.

Placing one knee between the legs of girl before her, the musician moved down, kneeling over the woman on the bed.

Her head went down, aiming for the crook of the blonde’s neck and smiling as a head turned, giving her access.

Their bodies met, Spencer’s arching up off the bed to meet Ashley’s as she licked down, suckling gently and making little marks up and down the blonde’s neck. Small, appreciative and increasingly urgent noises fell from the journalist’s lips as Ashley let her mouth run wild.

Hands scratched at her back, finding the edge of her fitted shirt and lifting. Nails scored her lower back, making the brunette cry out and then bite down.

The world went crazy, hands finding clothes and pulling until they were gone. First Spencer’s top, then Ashley’s, went flying off the bed as mouths found mouths and hands found skin. They rolled, and rolled again, passion mounting.

As she fumbled with the blonde’s bra, the musician tried to clear her head briefly and found it impossible. She was existing purely on feeling here. The white lace casing holding Spencer’s breasts came loose, and she flung it aside, rolling them so that suddenly the blonde was straddling her.

Gasping, Spencer sat up, giving Ashley an absolutely unparalleled view.

She moaned.

The blonde was biting her lip as one hand scratched lightly on Ashley’s stomach. That felt good. The brunette lifted her hands, cupping the white, soft mounds before her and rubbing a thumb across each rosy peak. She lifted off the bed sharply, so that Spencer was suddenly straddling her lap instead of her whole body.

Her mouth found one nipple, honing in and drawing it straight into the hot cavern of her mouth. She flicked her tongue across it, then sucked harder, fingertips massaging the blonde’s back. She opened her eyes and looked up.

Spencer was riding her, hips moving up and down on her knees, pushing the nipple in and out of Ashley’s mouth. The blonde’s head was thrown back, eyes closed. She was moaning, hard.

Fucking hell.

Three seconds later, fingers were scrambling at her own bra and it was the musician’s turn to moan. The journalist’s head came down, whimpering right in Ashley’s ear.

“Please-oh-God-please.”

Ashley rolled them over, her bra slipping off and being lost. Both girls gasped as their chests met.

Their mouths found each other again and the brunette’s head swam.

This was insane. This was totally not what she was used to.

Sex played out one of two ways for her: either she was so off her face that she barely remembered it, let alone had much to do with it; or, she was in complete control. Mostly, it had been the latter for the last year or so. When she had let someone into her bed, she had orchestrated the whole situation. Building someone up and watching them come was like her own symphony. Every move was perfectly attuned to get the maximum results.

It wasn’t like this.

It wasn’t pure white hot need with a side of passion.

It wasn’t an inability to think, to just feel and do. It was never mutual.

Groaning, Ashley moved in closer, melding them together. She slipped a hand between them, popping the catch on Spencer’s jeans and moaning. The zip gave no resistance, but it took both hands on Spencer’s hips to get the jeans over the tight fit. Damn, but the girl had a figure on her. To get the jeans off, Ashley had to kneel up and when she came back down, it was her own nipple that was assaulted with pleasure.

She fell to her hands and knees, Spencer’s lips suckling gently as a hand palmed the musician’s other breast. The brunette whimpered, the delicate sensations rioting through her body and making her quiver. She felt moisture gather between her thighs as the suckling moved straight through her nipple in a line down her body to her clitoris where it tugged.

God. All. Mighty.

She pulled free, not able to take any more, and, as she did so, her knee jerked into Spencer’s centre. For a second, she thought that she’d hurt her, but the blonde’s eyes flew open. Wide and sparkling blue, they stared up at her until Ashley gently moved her knee again.

Suddenly, the blonde was half-lidded and moaning, her hips pulsing back against the firm thigh now between her own.

Now, more than ever, Ashley just wanted to make love to the girl beneath her. The brunette’s own centre was throbbing wildly and she didn’t care. She just wanted to push the blonde to a peak and watch her tumble over. It was Spencer who needed her tonight.

It was Spencer she was going to give everything to.

If she could find a way to stop staring at the now writhing blonde and actually move.

Her hand moved down again, finding the edge of Spencer’s underwear as the blonde bucked against her leg. She moved her thigh back, and loved the moan of disappointment that followed. She slid her hand down and cupped the journalist’s burning hot centre.

Oh God.

She was so wet. So very wet.

It was too much. She slipped her fingers under the edge of the damp cotton, finding slick warm skin beneath her fingertips.

“Fuck,” Spencer breathed out, followed by a long moan as Ashley’s fingers found the swollen, slick nub of the blonde’s clitoris hidden within the warmth of her centre.

The brunette closed her eyes, her own breathing now rapid. God, this felt so good. She slicked her fingers over the nub and then did it again. Spencer began to move under her again, hips bucking and lip clenched delicately between teeth. The brunette leaned down, moving her hand and loving the moan that crested on each breath the blonde took. At this rate, the journalist would be coming apart in her hands in minutes.

God, that would be amazing.

Spencer orgasming… heaven.

She was distracted momentarily by the sound of her own belt snapping open. The sound confused her for a second before she felt the blonde’s fingers and looked down. By the time she’d gotten her eyes into focus a slender hand was sliding between her skin and clothes.

It found her wet and waiting, eliciting a gasp from the blonde spread out on the bed.

As fingers found her incredibly aroused centre, Ashley bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her hips jerked, thrusting against the achingly good pressure. Their hands moved, both girls starting to pant with heat and pleasure.

The brunette moaned, no longer able to keep the noises within her. She tried desperately not to cry out Spencer’s name. Somehow she thought reminding the blonde where they were would ruin the mood. It was better to stay in the moment.

Only, if the blonde didn’t stop her ministrations soon, Ashley was going to explode all over the blonde’s hand. She was so achingly hard and the pressure was so achingly good. She had to find a way to make it last, a way to draw it out. Biting her lip, she moved her own fingers, rubbing the slick, soft skin between the blonde’s entrance and her hard nub. Concentrating on the pleasure she was trying to give, instead of that she was receiving, she slid further down and took a deep gulp of air into her lungs.

In one long, slow push she thrust two fingers deep inside Spencer as the journalist lay beneath her. The loud, guttural moan that came flowing out of the blonde’s mouth was nearly enough in itself. The hot feel of the girl tightening around Ashley’s fingers was just about the best thing she’d ever felt, though.

Her own hips were still jerking against Spencer’s hand. She couldn’t stop that, her joints having taken on a life of their own. But the blonde’s fingers were faltering as Ashley began a slow long pulse in and out of her centre. Every time Spencer closed around her fingers, the musician thought she might come on the spot. Eventually, the hand in her jeans slipped out and away, gripping the sheet like its opposite partner.

Looking down, Ashley swore she was in heaven. Spencer’s eyes were closed, her cheeks delicately flushed as the blonde’s whole body rose and fell with each thrust. Her heels were digging into the bed, hands still gripping, tensing with each slow fuck. Tiny whimpers were floating through the air.

“God,” Ashley murmured, unable to keep quiet any longer. She let her tempo increase a bit, Spencer’s slick wet centre giving her ample lubrication for the slightly harder fuck.

“Oh!”

The response was encouraging. Bringing her thumb up, she swept across the blonde’s straining clitoris, pushing the girl all that much closer to the edge.

Kneeling over Spencer, Ashley could see and feel the journalist’s arousal. She leaned down more, the tantalising scent floating up to her as she thrust in and out of the increasingly frantic blonde. She was dying to taste. She could barely think for wanting to slide down and wrap her lips around the place her thumb was currently tantaslising.

But somehow, now was not the time. Although she would probably never have another encounter that was less likely than this to develop beyond a one-night stand, Ashley couldn’t help, in the smallest corner of her heart, but hope for more. She wanted to save more. She wanted to savour each new step she might take with the blonde, maybe even surprise her with pleasures yet unknown.

Besides, Spencer was so fucking close, it wasn’t funny. Her centre was starting to tighten even more with each thrust, and her cries were completely incoherent. Dipping her head down, the brunette snared one nipple in the hot cavern of her mouth and pushed her fingers so deep inside Spencer that she could have sworn there was nothing of her hand left.

The journalist went crazy. Her hips thrust harder and harder, her hand winding itself in Ashley’s hair until the tugging hurt. The brunette brought her head up, seared her lips to the blonde’s and pushed her over the edge.

Spencer reared up, burying Ashley’s hand inside her and breaking free of their kiss. A hoarse cry filled the room as the blonde climaxed, squeezing down again and again.

When it was finally over, the girl under the musician trembling almost violently, all Ashley could do was collapse on top of her.