DISCLAIMER: The Bionic Woman and its characters are the property of NBC. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Originally written for P&P's Love-and-Sex-A-Thon.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

What Jaime Wants
By Geekgrrl

 

Ruth pretends to be so tough, but I know better. I see so much more lurking, pulsing beneath her calm game face. Oh sure, she puts on a good show, but she can't hide her rapid heartbeat when I enter the room, the lingering stares across the boardroom table during mission briefings or her fierce protectiveness when she's running my missions.

She tries to brush it off, saying it's just part of her job, as her hand slides along my arm. I think she's dying to know just how strong I am, to feel my muscles bunch and flex. She's curious as hell to know if the replacement parts feel like the rest of my body. And to be honest, I'd like her to find out.

I'm aching to touch her, really touch her. I want to run my fingers through the feathery blonde hair, trace her lips with my tongue, slide a thigh between her legs and hear her moan my name. I want her wet and ready, waiting for me in my bed.

God, I've got it bad.

I've had crushes on women before. There was the usual shameless flirting while I was pouring drinks bartending, a drunken kiss with a friend in high school, the whole Sarah Corvus thing. But I've never thought too much about actually following through with anything. Until now.

To be blunt, I don't have time to fuck around with my life. Not when the best estimate is for five short years before bionic meltdown occurs. If I'm lucky.

I guess that's what's got me following Ruth out of Berkut HQ to her blue '72 GTO in the parking lot tonight. She's wearing a crisp white shirt under a short leather jacket with dark blue jeans. You gotta love casual Friday's at work and I've watched her walk down a lot of hallways today.

The jacket squeaks under my fingers as I turn her to face me, pressing her against the driver's side door of her car. She's hot when she's taken unaware, all intense and growly. I'm invading her personal space and I'm expecting her Glock to make an appearance if I piss her off too much.

"Jaime what the hell is going on?" No gun, just attitude. Good, I can deal with that. I can't hold back any longer. I have to know what she tastes like.

I touch impossibly soft lips and am rewarded with an even softer moan as I kiss her. She smells of well worn leather and gun oil. An intoxicating combination I could get addicted to. She draws me in, our tongues sliding moist and thick against each other. Before I know it, I'm slammed back against the car, Ruth's hands roaming my body like she owns me.

I like it.

I like it a lot.

There's a needy whimper as we separate. God, was that really me?

"We can't do this here." And then she smiles, lighting up her whole face and setting something free deep inside me. I get in her car. The big V-8 rumbles to life and we pull out into the evening traffic.

"Where are we headed?"

She looks over at me, her eyes raking down my body before turning her attention to the road. "My house."


"What do you want Jaime?" Ruth is hovering over me. It's entertaining that I'm the one who's ended up wet and ready in her big bed.

"You." My voice hitches, cracking, and I just stare up at her, trusting. "Please Ruth."

I feel her enter me, sure fingers stretching me open, making me hers. She thrusts deep, my body responding, arching closer, fists clenched into the sheets beneath me. Her mouth descends down my body, finding my clit, circling and sucking, her moan vibrating against me. I have no where to go, no where to hide, I'm hers and she knows it. God I want it, I want her, so much.

Before I know it I'm thrusting, arching, stretching up off the bed and still she's with me. Suddenly I'm shuddering over the edge, her fingers buried, by body clenching trying to pull her deeper.

Finally she leaves me exhausted and spent, slipping back up my body, nuzzling close. I feel alive and human, not some horrible freak no one can understand. Well, Ruth sure seems to understand me.

"Was that what you wanted, hmm?" She brushes away some sweaty strands of hair. An aftershock hits me and I buck against her, riding her thigh still pressed tight against me. Her voice, low and tender gets me every time. The pad of her thumb runs along my lower lip and I can taste myself on her skin. All I can do is nod weakly and she smiles. "It seems you're going to need a lot more hands on therapy than I first suspected."

Then her mouth is on mine, her hand trails down my body, suddenly stroking, filling me again, taking me quickly. Surprised, I come hard, groaning into her sweet mouth, grinding desperately against her. She chuckles against my mouth, pleased with herself.

I begin to wonder what I have gotten myself into. She knows my body so well already, giving me what I don't even realize I need. Looking up into her hazel eyes, I know that I'm exactly where I want to be, only now that I'm here, I want so much more. I want her for as long as she will have me.

And one way or another, I always get what I want.

The End

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