For the Livejournal H/C Smutathon Challenge: 800 words or less, Christmas in there somewhere.

Thank you to Kara for the look through. You are the bestest!!

It was always the mistletoe.

Such a cliché.

House's eyes were dark and seductive. They lingered on her lips and she wanted him to kiss her. More than she'd ever wanted anything in her life.

"Well," she said. She knew she could stand here all night and stare at him. "It is Christmas."

"And that makes it easier."

She smiled. "And we wouldn't be taking advantage of the mistletoe?"

"You put that there on purpose."

Once again, his reserve struck a cord. After all this time, she still could never be sure if his sincerity was feigned--House's cavalier attitude could be sexy, but more times than not, it was exhausting.

But Cameron didn't want to change him. Okay, she did. But he was entirely what she fell in love with, sarcasm and all. "I'm gonna head on home," she said, still grinning. It was impossible to stop.

House nodded. "Okay, then."

She turned to go. His hand reached out and grazed her shoulder, then slid oh so-slowly down her arm. The soft material of her blouse clung to her skin as his fingers swept downward, over her bicep and forearm. His warm skin caressed her wrist a moment before his fingers skimmed over her palm and twined with hers. A gentle pull had her turning fully to him.

He took one step forward and closed the gap between them. Cameron scarcely had a moment to pull in a breath before his lips touched hers. A whisper of a kiss. So soft and warm and fleeting, she could have dreamed it. But then his mouth touched hers again and her eyelids fluttered closed. This was no dream. This was the most erotic moment she'd ever experienced.

House's lips pressed to hers for only a heartbeat before they simultaneously opened their mouths. His tongue slipped past her teeth and swept over hers. His free hand cupped her cheek as his body melded to hers. Their clothes, the moist skin, the heat that arced between them did a wicked number on her insides. Her entire body went into sensory overload. His tongue delved deeper, teasing hers, tangling with it in a sensual dance that left her molten and damn near singed to the core.

Her fingers skimmed over his side, up his rib cage. She clasped a fistful of now-limp white cotton, literally clutching at him, holding him to her. His hand, in turn, moved from her face and plowed through her hair, his fingers burrowing deep in the long strands.

Cameron heard a whimper of need lodge in her throat. He deepened the kiss. Their bodies were pressed together, yet she felt the insane desire to get closer to him. So much more so than she currently was. She longed for their clothes to melt away, wanting desperately to press her naked breasts to his warm skin. She wanted their limbs entwined, every inch of their bodies touching each
other. She longed for this. Craved it.

She wanted more than this, really. As House's kiss became more impassioned with every second that passed, Cameron could think of nothing else but having him inside her. She wilted under his touch, her entire body seemingly liquefying. She could feel the tremble in her legs, a slight vibration that worked its way up to the apex where her sex throbbed in wicked beats.

The sounds and smells of the hospital at night faded into non-existence. All thoughts, save for the truly erotic ones, receded into the far recesses of her mind. All that registered was the feel of his lips on hers, the tantalizing sweep of his tongue, the warmth and strength of his fingers as they remained twined with hers, the heat and sensuality that engulfed her.

What should have been a friendly kiss, even a quick parting kiss, turned into something so sensuous; Cameron lost all touch with reality.

This was how she'd dreamed of being kissed by him. This was the kind of passionate, erotic, fully engaging kiss that she'd longed for, not that faux (although real in her feelings) kiss she had teased from him last year. House delivered it with such skill, such intimacy; she wondered how she'd live until their next kiss. It was that fabulous. That… perfect.

As he gently pulled away, she knew she should have bemoaned the loss. Her entire being felt the connection being broken as he moved away from her. But it really hadn't been broken. Even as he stepped back, his fingers releasing hers, his hand slipping from her hair, she felt an innate bond. It was mystical, magical. Something beyond her comprehension. It was erotically powerful, yet heartwarming.

"That was one hell of a kiss," House said.

She reluctantly turned to leave, "I'm one hell of a girl."