I can’t explain
What makes you… you
And you take great pains
To show it too
She’s sitting on the kitchen countertop. She’s sitting on the kitchen countertop eating a whole pizza. She’s sitting on the kitchen countertop eating a whole pizza in just a bra and panties. Erin is almost positive those aren’t Holtz’ panties either. They have little bows on them. Those are Erin’s panties. So Holtz is sitting on the kitchen countertop eating a whole pizza in just a bra and Erin’s panties.
This woman will be the death of her.
“Hey, sunshine! Want a slice?” Holtz asks when she realizes Erin is standing in the doorway beside her. How long had Erin been standing there staring? Oh god, is she blushing? Has she just been blushing and staring this whole time?
Erin tries to make words, but she settles for a little frustrated whine and gesturing to Holtz’ entire situation with her hand.
Holtz looks down at herself and shrugs matter-of-factly, “It’s laundry day.”
It’d been one weird month since they’d started… whatever it is this was. They hadn’t really talked about it too much. They hadn’t told the others. They weren’t hiding it, it just hadn’t come up. How do you explain you’d sort of accidentally U-Hauled with your hot coworker and then started making out a lot? How she’d kind of moved into your room and strung up fairy lights over your bed and you’ve definitely had sex in places that are not that bed? How you’re really really REALLY happy about it all?
“That’s mine,” Erin points to her stolen undergarments.
Holtz looks down to where Erin points and then back up at her with a smile that could only be described as lecherous. “My my my! Possessive. I like it,” Holtz winks.
Erin flushes brighter, “I didn’t mean- you know what I mean! Why are you wearing my panties?”
“I ran out. Hence, laundry day,” she leans back against the counter and moves to return to her pizza.
Erin huffs, “Give them back!”
“You want them, come and get ’em, babe,” Holtz challenges, lewdly gesturing with both hands at her crotch.
Erin can see from the smug look on her face that she doesn’t expect Erin to take the bait. Holtz expects Erin to back down and walk off in a huff. Holtz expects Erin to just let her have this? As much as Erin has learned about Holtz, her maybe-girlfriend is about to learn an important lesson about Dr. Erin Gilbert:
Don’t fucking take her stuff.
Before she can register what’s happening, Holtz is pinned against the wall, Erin pressed flush between her legs. Her hands press possessively into the outsides of Holtz’ knees, pulling her in close. Holtzy fucked up and, oh boy, does she ever know it. Face flushing red and eyes wide… Erin could get used to that look.
“Erin?” Holtz swallows hard, half smirking, half wide-eyed surprise.
She slowly trails her hand from Holtz’ knee, up her leg and across her stomach. Holtz watches curiously. Erin smirks as she grabs the band of her pilfered panties and gives a sharp tug upward. Holtz gasps.
“Consider them gotten,” Erin says before she crashes her lips into Holtz’. The younger woman reciprocates immediately, pushing herself up by the hands to gain better access. Never one to miss an opportunity, Erin slips the garment off of Holtz’ hips. She breaks away momentarily to get them off of Holtz’ ankles, who pulls her back up by the neck impatiently. Her calloused hands are firm, but gentle. Erin flings her panties away haphazardly. They really were just an excuse, after all. She manages Holtz out of her bra, in short order.
It’s been a month of this, and still, every time Jillian Holtzmann kisses her, Erin swoons. It’s worse, now that she knows what that mouth is really capable of. It’s worse, now that she knows that the rough hands of an engineer can so tenderly take her apart on an atomic level. It’s so much worse, now that she knows what Holtz feels like against her, skin to skin, soft in warm in what is quickly becoming their bed. She has it so bad for this woman and damn, she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You still with me?” Holtz pulls away, breathless, but still chuckling. She must’ve noticed by now how Erin always drifts when she’s running around inside her own head; even if that’s the furthest thing from her intention presently.
Erin nods, unable to do much else. She’s thinking about a lot of things, and it’s distracting her from her endgame here. She dips her head to Holtz’ neck, leaving a line of hot open-mouthed kisses down to that endgame. She feels Holtz’ hand twist through her hair as she kisses be insides of her thighs. The chuckles are gone, replaced heavy gulps of air and Erin smiles to herself.
She looks up at Holtz, who is staring down at her, wonder in her blue eyes. Erin loves that look; it’s as if she isn’t sure Erin is real. With a long swipe of her tongue, she makes certain to Holtz that she is real. Oh, so very real.
Erin’s name falls off her lips like the most beautiful song as she circles the younger woman’s clit. Both her hands are in Erin’s hair now, trying to ground herself from where she’s floating. She makes a little mewl as Erin hoists her legs up on her shoulders. She moans unabashed as Erin’s fingers slide lightly down her slit. Erin would never get tired of the noises Holtz made when she was teasing her. She feels hands tighten in her hair as her two fingers slide inside, slowly building to the crescendo she knows will create her favourite symphony of Holtz noises.
“This is- this is not how I was expecting this afternoon to go- ah!” Holtz starts and stutters as Erin nips at that sensitive bundle of nerves and the legs on her shoulders tremble like tiny earthquakes. Her fingers thrust harder to compensate and when she sucks harder still, her engineer starts to come apart.
Their eyes meet as she glances upwards into Holtz’s eyes. It’s the little things that really get Holtz off. A fiery glance, a soft twist of the wrist to the spot Erin knows will unhinge her, a soft little hum against her clit. The woman above her swears and Erin feels her walls come tumbling down around her fingers. Her body spasms and although Erin is enraptured by the sight, she’s determined to keep her concentration. The hands still in her hair grip down painfully as Erin’s fingers and tongue continue to rake over Holtz’ spasming form.
She doesn’t stop there.
Slipping out from under still trembling legs, Erin rolls Holtz’ overly sensitive clit between her two fingers as she captures her lips. Holtz whimpers against her mouth. Arms wrap around her neck, loose and barely there. She’s still flying high as Erin brings her back up higher, deft fingers figuring the best way to make a small engineer come again on the kitchen counter.
Holtz’ moans fill the small space. She’s pressed herself into the small of Erin’s neck; it’s getting to the side of too much and Erin knows she’s trying to compensate for the relentless pace her own fingers are setting. Legs entwine around her back as her thumb takes the place of fingers now sinking into folds.
“Erin!” Comes breathlessly out of Holtz’ lungs as she peaks again; much harder than the first time.
She slumps bonelessly against Erin, all quivers and breathy moans.
“Okay, okay! Point taken!” Gasps Holtz as she regains herself.
Erin nuzzles her nose against Holtz’, who just giggles, “Y’know… I would have more clothes if my girlfriend wasn’t stealing them all. Not that I’m complaining right now, but…”
Girlfriend. Holtz says it so casually, as if it’s just a fact of life. Erin is her girlfriend. Holtz is Erin’s girlfriend. Her stomach flutters a bit and she has to laugh at herself. She just ate Holtz out on the firehouse’s communal kitchen counter and now here she is, completely thrown when Holtz uses the word girlfriend in reference to her.
Erin realizes she’s just been staring again and tries to remember what they were talking about. Maybe she can play it cool, as if Holtz hadn’t just turned her whole world reeling? Oh. Right. The clothes thing.
Erin pretends to baulk, “What? I’m not stealing your clothes.”
“You’re like… literally wearing my sweater on that hot bod, right now.”
Holtz eyes the physicist as Erin tries to work out the problem just posed to her.
“How-how do you know this isn’t my sweater?”
The engineer quirks an eyebrow, “Acid burn on the right sleeve? Stitched up cut in the hood? Big red ‘H’ on the tag?”
Erin looks at her sleeve: acid burn. She grabs the hood and pulls it around so she can see the stitched up cut and the “H” on the tag. Uh-oh.
Holtz laughs at Erin’s goggle-eyed guilty stare, “It’s fine! I like you in my clothes. Right now, though, I’d prefer you out of them.”
She tugs lightly at the bottom of it, and Erin ditches the stolen sweater immediately.
Holtz forgets their clothes in the dryer overnight. Who needs clothes when you have a hot girlfriend, fuzzy blankets and the warm glow of fairy lights over your bed, anyways?