The Good Wife - Touches
Title: Touches
Author: clair-de-lune
Pairing: Kalinda/Cary
Category: Het
Rating: R
Word count: ~ 1060
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: You’re young, cute and smart. You have money, a wealthy family and, for now anyway, a good job. All reasons why you’re not used to women eluding or looking down on you.
Prompt: Kalinda/Cary, “You will never win.”
Author’s Note: This is fic #2 for tokenblkgirl’s help_haiti donation. It took me a bit of time, but it's finally here.
Many thanks to domfangirl for the beta.
You’re young, cute and smart. You have money, a wealthy family and, for now anyway, a good job. All reasons why you’re not used to women eluding or looking down on you. Girls love you, their mothers... even more so.
Kalinda Sharma does elude you and, in the best case, takes you lightly; in all due non-modesty, it’s slightly maddening. This is new for you but then, there are no girls like her where you come from. God knows you’re the competitive kind so, at first, she constitutes a challenge; and she keeps being one up until the moment where things kind of go awry... You couldn’t pinpoint precisely when it happens, but the more you rub elbows with her, the less it’s about you, the more it becomes about her, the more you want to get her - double entendre, by all means. Talk about a vicious cycle.
But all you can get are tiny pieces of character she volunteers and superficial contact. You start seeking it out - touches, feather-like and almost innocent. Then, it becomes less and less feather-like and innocent until...
* *
You brush her shoulder in the elevator at Stern, Lockhart & Gardner. She doesn’t notice. You’re a practical guy and conclude you will have to try it again sometime.
* *
So you do it again in the car, sitting in the backseat with her; the grown-ups - aka Alicia and Will - are in the front discussing serious business. She feigns not to notice, this time, and focuses on the conversation. You concentrate on it too, although a part of your reptilian brain remains devoted to inspect the way her trademark black knee-high boots hug her legs. You graze the leather with the nail of your index finger; she throws you a sideway glance implying you’ve just committed a felony.
* *
You hold out your hand to help her down the low wall of the property you entered legally - you made sure of that - but not quite morally - and neither of you care. She looks at your hand, blinks and jumps down without your assistance. You grab her elbow, fearing or maybe hoping she stumbles. She doesn’t, of course; additionally, she slaps your hand away. Your wrist tingles pleasantly where she’s touched you.
* *
You splay your fingers on the small of her back to guide her between the tables of a fancy restaurant. It’s a perfectly appropriate attitude to have with the woman you supposedly date, after all - you two are pretending to be patrons, courtesy of Diane’s latest case. Kalinda must not totally be in her character, though, because she smiles threateningly and asks you how you feel about broken wrists. You rub the palm of your hand against the silk of her dress and let your fingers wander on her hip. You regret it twenty seconds later when you sit in front of her at your table - but well... not so much.
* *
You let your eyes trail down her cleavage and your hand up her breasts at the Christmas party. You pretend to be drunk; she pretends to believe you, which is why she doesn’t twist your arm or punch you in the face/stomach/crotch. Her nipple hardens under your thumb and you smirk. She rolls her eyes at you but doesn’t tell you to get lost. It’s a small victory, but it is a victory.
* *
You lay your hand on her bare leg under the conference table and slide it up a bit. You’re surprised when she slightly pulls her knees apart, allowing you to edge up and up and up... Her skin is smooth and a bit moist. You want to believe this is due to arousal, and maybe it is due to arousal, because she shifts in her seat and traps your hand between her thighs. You can hear your heart pounding in your chest and almost feel the soft material of her panties under your fingertips. You’re abruptly called back to here and now - in other words, a huge room filled with half a dozen of lawyers and about as much aides - when she gives you a paper for Alicia. You have to remove your hand and, if it frustrates her, she obviously gets off on the fact that it frustrates you even more.
* *
You snatch her into a dark doorway on her way out of a late meeting, your fist tight around her biceps, and push her up against the wall. She holds still, holds your eyes, challenges you and clearly enjoys the situation. No backing off. You touch her like you’ve wanted to for a while, slow and greedy, gliding all the way down her body - shoulders and breasts and waist and ass - and up again under her skirt. She tilts her hips to give you unfettered access and sneaks her hand in your pants, her short nails painfully, deliciously scratching you. You didn’t expect that and swear under your breath. You swear when she closes her hand around you and moves it up and down so leisurely you might burst right now; you swear again when you slip your fingers into her and feel her shiver and clench. Two fingers deep inside, crooking and moving, thumb circling the small engorged bud of flesh that feels incredibly slick and silky. Her knees buckle for a split second under her and she keeps standing only because she’s trapped between you and the wall.
You spill in your boxer shorts with a strangled noise, heavily supporting yourself with your free hand on the wall behind her. She comes quietly, with her eyes wide open and trained on you, only a hint of teeth digging in her lower lip and a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. Her whole body twists, back arching and stomach grinding against you. You want to feel and see it happen again, you want to understand why she let you do this and reciprocated, you want more, you want... you want.
You will never win.
-End-
--Comments are always welcome :)
Author: clair-de-lune
Pairing: Kalinda/Cary
Category: Het
Rating: R
Word count: ~ 1060
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: You’re young, cute and smart. You have money, a wealthy family and, for now anyway, a good job. All reasons why you’re not used to women eluding or looking down on you.
Prompt: Kalinda/Cary, “You will never win.”
Author’s Note: This is fic #2 for tokenblkgirl’s help_haiti donation. It took me a bit of time, but it's finally here.
Many thanks to domfangirl for the beta.
You’re young, cute and smart. You have money, a wealthy family and, for now anyway, a good job. All reasons why you’re not used to women eluding or looking down on you. Girls love you, their mothers... even more so.
Kalinda Sharma does elude you and, in the best case, takes you lightly; in all due non-modesty, it’s slightly maddening. This is new for you but then, there are no girls like her where you come from. God knows you’re the competitive kind so, at first, she constitutes a challenge; and she keeps being one up until the moment where things kind of go awry... You couldn’t pinpoint precisely when it happens, but the more you rub elbows with her, the less it’s about you, the more it becomes about her, the more you want to get her - double entendre, by all means. Talk about a vicious cycle.
But all you can get are tiny pieces of character she volunteers and superficial contact. You start seeking it out - touches, feather-like and almost innocent. Then, it becomes less and less feather-like and innocent until...
* *
You brush her shoulder in the elevator at Stern, Lockhart & Gardner. She doesn’t notice. You’re a practical guy and conclude you will have to try it again sometime.
* *
So you do it again in the car, sitting in the backseat with her; the grown-ups - aka Alicia and Will - are in the front discussing serious business. She feigns not to notice, this time, and focuses on the conversation. You concentrate on it too, although a part of your reptilian brain remains devoted to inspect the way her trademark black knee-high boots hug her legs. You graze the leather with the nail of your index finger; she throws you a sideway glance implying you’ve just committed a felony.
* *
You hold out your hand to help her down the low wall of the property you entered legally - you made sure of that - but not quite morally - and neither of you care. She looks at your hand, blinks and jumps down without your assistance. You grab her elbow, fearing or maybe hoping she stumbles. She doesn’t, of course; additionally, she slaps your hand away. Your wrist tingles pleasantly where she’s touched you.
* *
You splay your fingers on the small of her back to guide her between the tables of a fancy restaurant. It’s a perfectly appropriate attitude to have with the woman you supposedly date, after all - you two are pretending to be patrons, courtesy of Diane’s latest case. Kalinda must not totally be in her character, though, because she smiles threateningly and asks you how you feel about broken wrists. You rub the palm of your hand against the silk of her dress and let your fingers wander on her hip. You regret it twenty seconds later when you sit in front of her at your table - but well... not so much.
* *
You let your eyes trail down her cleavage and your hand up her breasts at the Christmas party. You pretend to be drunk; she pretends to believe you, which is why she doesn’t twist your arm or punch you in the face/stomach/crotch. Her nipple hardens under your thumb and you smirk. She rolls her eyes at you but doesn’t tell you to get lost. It’s a small victory, but it is a victory.
* *
You lay your hand on her bare leg under the conference table and slide it up a bit. You’re surprised when she slightly pulls her knees apart, allowing you to edge up and up and up... Her skin is smooth and a bit moist. You want to believe this is due to arousal, and maybe it is due to arousal, because she shifts in her seat and traps your hand between her thighs. You can hear your heart pounding in your chest and almost feel the soft material of her panties under your fingertips. You’re abruptly called back to here and now - in other words, a huge room filled with half a dozen of lawyers and about as much aides - when she gives you a paper for Alicia. You have to remove your hand and, if it frustrates her, she obviously gets off on the fact that it frustrates you even more.
* *
You snatch her into a dark doorway on her way out of a late meeting, your fist tight around her biceps, and push her up against the wall. She holds still, holds your eyes, challenges you and clearly enjoys the situation. No backing off. You touch her like you’ve wanted to for a while, slow and greedy, gliding all the way down her body - shoulders and breasts and waist and ass - and up again under her skirt. She tilts her hips to give you unfettered access and sneaks her hand in your pants, her short nails painfully, deliciously scratching you. You didn’t expect that and swear under your breath. You swear when she closes her hand around you and moves it up and down so leisurely you might burst right now; you swear again when you slip your fingers into her and feel her shiver and clench. Two fingers deep inside, crooking and moving, thumb circling the small engorged bud of flesh that feels incredibly slick and silky. Her knees buckle for a split second under her and she keeps standing only because she’s trapped between you and the wall.
You spill in your boxer shorts with a strangled noise, heavily supporting yourself with your free hand on the wall behind her. She comes quietly, with her eyes wide open and trained on you, only a hint of teeth digging in her lower lip and a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. Her whole body twists, back arching and stomach grinding against you. You want to feel and see it happen again, you want to understand why she let you do this and reciprocated, you want more, you want... you want.
You will never win.
-End-
--Comments are always welcome :)