If Harley's learned one thing in her short life, it's that if you want something you've gotta go get it yourself. Mr. J may have flirted with her at Arkham, but he wouldn't have asked her to come along for the ride had she not stuck with him of her own accord. It was her decision to change for him, even if he insists on having created her new persona himself.
Anyway, that part of her life's over now. Or any part of it, actually. Task Force X ain't exactly known for the longevity of its members.
Which doesn't deter Harley from enjoying the missions while they last. She might never return from them, after all.
"I knew danger was a turn-on for you, too."
Before her palm has the chance to cover more ground on his pants, he snatches her wrist and presses his gun-arm to her temple.
"Hands off, clown girl, or I'm gonna blow your brains out."
"You or that implant in my head, Buckshot. Where's the difference?" Gun play? My, ain't he kinky. He's starting to grow on Harley.
She slides her free palm up his bicep and presses closer.
"But tell me this, lover boy: how long has it been for you? Six months? A year? Longer? Rotting alone in that cell does get frustrating, doesn't it? Are you really prepared to turn down my offer and wait just again as long? Or is jacking off to the picture of that little girl on your wall enough for you?"
His eyes flash dangerously, and a sudden stab of pain flares over her scalp. He's tugging on her pigtails, tilting her head back.
"Careful now, dollface. Might just put a bullet in you and fuck you anyway."
"As long as you fuck me," Harley grins and yanks him down for a kiss. The moment their tongues touch, Harley's about ready to melt into him. The guy's dour and unyielding like a fucking tree trunk, but at least he knows how to use his mouth. The hand in her hair grips harder and it hurts so good. She needs more of him, right now.
Wrapping her legs around him, Harley grinds their hips together to let him feel her urgency, to let him know that this one thing is not a joking matter to her. He catches on quick, supports her with a hand on her ass, shoves her back against the wall. Rough handling, how she adores it. His fingers steal inside her hot pants, almost distracting her from her unzipping his jacket to rip off the shirt beneath. He helps, shrugs off that pesky clothing item, and offers her a better view of his upper body.
"Anyone ever told ya you look like a newspaper? The obituary part, I mean."
"Shut up and turn around."
"Ooh, why so impatient all of a sudden? Hurt ya feelings?"
"Evac's gonna be here any minute. If we're gonna do this, best make it quick. Don't need anyone to catch me with my pants around my ankles."
"Roger that, Buckshot." Harley spins around, braces herself against the wall, and wriggles her ass at him.
"And don't call me that," he growls and tears her pants down. She squeaks as he touches her, and God, it's been too long. She's so ready for him.
Ever efficient, he wastes no time in sliding home and Harley nearly swoons. He feels so good inside her.
"Yahtzee!" she cries, unable to stop herself. He's fisting her pigtails again, bending her backwards, and she can't bring herself to tell him off for it. Her cell's been quiet and lonely, except when the other prisoners are shouting at each other, then it's lively and loud, but still lonely. This, oh God, this is what she's been missing, because a convicted felon can't just pop into a closet somewhere for a quick fix. There are no closets in her cell, much less anyone to share them with.
That's why she needs to use her time outside wisely; who knows when the next mission will be. And Lawton's as good as anyone – better, because she likes the take-control type. He fucks her good, but it's a bit passive like this. Harley needs a bit more action. She slams him against the wall, before kicking off her panties and jumping into his arms.
"That's better," she sighs as she sinks back onto him. He just snorts and grabs her ass, squeezing her tighter against him. He reaches so deep and it feels so good and Harley's not gonna hold out that much longer. He can probably feel it too, because he fucks into her faster and Harley's nearly going cross-eyed. Her orgasm is building and he's nudging her ever closer to it. Yes, almost. There.
Holding onto his shoulders, she throws her head back and screams as her body convulses. Lawton continues fucking her, even when the tension slowly subsides and she feels herself going boneless. He catches her and chases his own orgasm inside of her. Harley doesn't care what happens hereafter, if evac's gonna arrive on time or not; she's got what she wanted.
"Thanks for the ride, Buckshot," she says once he's spent himself and lets her down. "That really hit the mark."