Title: Lipstick
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Summary: Everyone has their Achilles heel.


Her short skirts are sinful. Her pigtails tease him. There's always at least one tattoo on show. And yet, it's something most women wear that undoes him.

Her lipstick.

It's the night before Abby's birthday for the tenth year since they met. Gibbs taps lightly on her apartment door, and hears her voice respond faintly from within. "It's open!"

He lets himself in and closes the door behind him, returning her greeting. She's nowhere to be seen in the living room or kitchen.

"I'm in here," she calls, just as he's about to ask.

"Are you dressed?" he quips dryly, following the scent of her soap and shampoo to the bedroom.

Abby turns to grin at him, a lipstick in hand and none on her lips. "A gentleman would have waited for me to answer before looking," she says, flirting with him the way she does every other member of his team at times.

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, trying to dispel the images of what might have happened, had she not been dressed. "Ready to go?"

"Almost." She waves the lipstick at him, then leans into the mirror, beginning to apply the dark pigment with the natural confidence and accuracy most women seem to put to the task.

Gibbs has never seen her do it before, and for some inexplicable reason, the sight is more alluring than her pigtails and her mini-dress and her tattoos combined. Taken aback by the sudden stirring of want in his blood, he takes a deep breath and looks away.

His gaze falls upon the slightly open door to her en-suite, and the rumpled black towel lying crumpled upon the floor beside the bed. The knowledge that she's fresh from the shower does nothing to calm him, but at least when he looks back at her, she's setting her lipstick down on the dresser.

Abby presses her lips together, studies the result in the mirror and then nods, satisfied. Taking a step toward him, she asks, "Do you have a tissue?"

Gibbs' mind is slow to react, and he doesn't catch the relevance of the question. "No."

With a wicked grin, she shrugs. "Then I'm gonna have to get rid of the excess another way." Before he can react, she crosses the distance between them and plants a firm kiss on his cheekbone, no doubt leaving a perfect imprint of her lips on his skin.

His control snaps, and as she begins to pull away he turns his head, grazing his lips across hers in a way that can't possibly be construed as accidental. Her breath falters, her eyes widen, and then she's pressing against him, her arms around his neck.

Her kiss is warm, tentative at first and then becoming fiery at his urgent response. Her body moulds against his with an intimacy it never has before, and her fingers comb through his hair, another new sensation that drives him crazy.

He should pull away, should try to gather his thoughts and figure out what to say to her, but her lips are just too tempting against his; the quick dart of her tongue out to meet his is too irresistible. They're already past the point of pretending they don't feel anything for each other.

When he becomes hard enough for her to feel it, she grinds her hips into his with a breathy cry, and he pulls her the short distance to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. While she straddles him, her eyes hazy with mischievous lust, he realises that he's probably wearing a lot of her lipstick; hers is half gone.

Abby settles herself in his lap, shifting firmly against his cock, and he forgets everything but the slow, deliberate movements of her hips. Her forehead presses against his, and her breath lightly tickles his skin as she whispers, "This is a really good birthday present."

He replies with a fleeting grin, then kisses her again, and again, holding onto his self-control by a thread while she grinds herself to a climax in his lap. Her body trembles with the force of her release, and it almost pushes him over the edge, though they're both fully-dressed and her hands have barely wandered.

Seizing her hips to halt her movements, he buries his face in her neck, urging himself to calm down. "Give me a second, Abbs."

Her answer is amused, shaky with the aftershocks of her orgasm. "Still plan on making it to the restaurant?"

In the hedonistic heat of the moment, he'd forgotten about their dinner reservations. If she still wants to make it there, he's gonna need her out of his lap completely so he can slow his racing pulse. Though his body cries a strong protest, he tells her, "Your birthday. Your call."

Abby pulls back to look at him, the expression on her face indicating that she understands male desire all too well. When she gets to her feet, his heart sinks. As he watches, she picks up her lipstick and reapplies it to her kiss-swollen lips, and the effect it has on him is almost as strong as the first time.

He's resigned himself to the fact that he'll be left unfulfilled when she drops to her knees in front of him, reaching for his belt buckle. "I think we'll have more fun here."

The first touch of those lipsticked lips against his hard shaft tears a growl from his throat, and he leans his weight back on one arm, the fingers of his other hand running through her hair. She takes him into her mouth by degrees, putting her tongue to work slowly and teasingly, letting him see exactly what she's doing. The newly applied lipstick only emphasises her actions, and it doesn't take her long to finish him off, leaving him breathless, overheated and groaning with pleasure.

Abby curls up beside him with a satisfied purr, nuzzling his neck. For a few minutes, the comfortable silence stretches on, eventually broken by Gibbs. "You seduced me."

She laughs, unashamed. "Everyone has their Achilles heel. I didn't know I'd found yours until I saw the look you were trying not to give me."

"Glad you did."

Her fingers splay out over his chest, dragging at the fabric covering it. "Mmm… me too."

Her stomach grumbles audibly, and Gibbs glances at his watch. Their encounter has been quick and dirty, and it's taken the edge off his craving for her. "Come on – we can still make the restaurant if we leave now."

For a second, she hesitates, reluctant to move despite her hunger. "Can we skip dessert?"

Amused, he gets up and pulls her to her feet. "Think we already did."

END.