Chapter Text
Cassie doesn’t mean for it to be a suggestion, really, but Mohan is known for her compassion around here and—a lucky but ultimately unimportant attribute because Cassie will take anything she can get at this rate—attractive.
So when Mohan corners her later in the afternoon and pulls her into the nearest supply closet, Cassie is not surprised.
“At least buy a girl a drink first,” Cassie says, smirking.
Mohan rolls her eyes and plants her hands on her hips. She’s standing a polite distance away from Cassie, as if she hasn’t just offered to fuck her coworker (her subordinate) in the middle of the day at their workplace. “You’re impossible. You know that?”
“I’ve been told,” Cassie says, letting Mohan crowd her back against the wall. “You gonna do something about it?”
Mohan kisses her. She’s a surprisingly good kisser, which, if Cassie thinks about it, is actually not so surprising. She’s methodical, slow at first, taking her time as if they have all the time in the world. Slo-mo, Cassie thinks, and smiles against Mohan’s lips.
But slow isn’t really an option right now. Cassie guides Mohan’s hand beneath the hem of her untucked shirt, guides it up until Mohan can hook her fingers over the wire of Cassie’s bra and pull it down over her chest. She cups Cassie’s breast in her palm, kneads and then flicks her nipple with her thumb. Cassie gasps into Mohan’s mouth, and then again when Mohan presses her thigh up between her legs.
“Dirty, dirty,” Cassie sighs, head falling back against the wall, rolling her hips against her thigh. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Mohan.”
Mohan tugs at her nipple, and Cassie damn near whimpers. She says, rolling her eyes again, “Call me Samira.”
“Sure,” Cassie says. She’s getting impatient, squirming against Samira’s thigh. She hooks her arms around Samira’s neck, bringing her closer. “If you make me come.”
“Getting to it.” Samira circles Cassie’s nipple with the edge of her thumb. “Didn’t you know patience is a virtue?”
“Fucking tease,” Cassie groans. Samira tenses the muscle in her thigh, bends her knee, and Cassie moans low in her throat, white-hot pleasure shooting straight to her core. So Samira does know what she’s doing. “C’mon, Samira, please.”
“So polite.” Samira raises her eyebrows. Cassie could kill her.
But Samira’s free hand is skidding down her stomach, slipping past the elastic waistband of her scrubs and underwear and dipping straight between her legs. Cassie is wet—can feel the way her underwear is sticking to her—but Samira seems surprised when she brushes two fingers against her through the drenched fabric.
“You’re soaked,” Samira says, running the tip of her finger up and down, feather-light.
“I told you.” Cassie’s back arches off the wall. “I needed this.”
Samira slips her underwear to the side and immediately finds her clit, rubs tight circles there.
“Fuck,” Cassie whines and, “more.”
“Where did all those manners go?” Samira’s fingers slow, and Cassie does whimper this time, trying to rock her hips and find friction. Samira’s free hand leaves her chest to find her hip, pinning her against the wall.
“Are you serious?” Cassie stares at her.
Samira stares back. “Do I sound like I’m kidding to you?”
“Fine,” Cassie says, biting her lip. Samira’s irritating, yes, but even more irritating is how turned on Cassie is by it all. “Please, Samira. Please fuck me with your fingers.”
“Better,” Samira says. “We’ll have to work on the attitude another time.”
Cassie is too focused on “another time” and then the way Samira’s fingers are sliding into her to pretend to be irritated instead of turned on. She moans, eyes squeezing shut, hips canting to take more. Samira doesn’t start slow this time, immediately introducing a pace that has Cassie moaning with every thrust.
“Does that feel good?” Samira’s voice wavers, and Cassie has just enough sense to feel gratified. “Tell me, McKay.”
“Cassie,” she gasps, eyebrows furrowing.
“Only fair,” Samira cedes. She twists her fingers, does something with her wrist that has Cassie keening. “Tell me, Cassie. Does this feel good?”
“Yeah,” Cassie whimpers, stomach tightening. “Feels so good, Samira. Keep going, please keep going…”
Her voice is getting higher and higher, and louder, too. Cassie can hear it, and Samira clearly can, too, because she presses her free hand over Cassie’s mouth, pinning her harder against the wall. Cassie moans against her palm, eyes flying open. Her hips jerk.
“Quiet,” Samira murmurs. Cassie can see the way her pupils have expanded, huge and dark. “We don’t want everyone out there hearing, do we?”
Cassie clenches around her fingers at that. The idea of everyone hearing the way Samira is fucking her silly. Samira must feel it because she laughs a little, fucks into her harder.
“Oh, you like that.” Samira finds her clit with her thumb. Cassie whimpers, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Maybe next time I’ll just fuck you out there in the open. In front of everyone. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Cassie jerks and whines. She’s imagining it now. Maybe they’d take turns using her. Maybe they’d use her all at once. Robby fucking into her from behind, his grip harsh on her hips. Dana crooning sweet things into her ear: good girl, and sweetheart, and that’s it. Garcia using her mouth, her demanding hands fisting in Cassie’s hair. Everyone stopping and watching and turned on.
Samira laughs, curling her fingers. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”
Cassie can’t say anything, can only take it, Samira’s fingers pumping in and out of her at an almost bruising pace, her weight keeping Cassie pinned against the door. Cassie looks at Samira, trying to plead with her eyes. It seems to work; Samira gives her more pressure against her clit, begins to rub tight hard circles. Cassie sobs, seeing stars.
“There you go,” Samira says, sounding almost bored. Her fingers dig into Cassie’s jaw. “Go on.”
Cassie comes, shaking and moaning into Samira’s palm.
“Good,” Samira says. She fucks Cassie through it, only stopping when Cassie is squirming against her, pushing at her arm. She removes her palm from Cassie’s mouth, using it instead to cup Cassie’s hip, ground her.
“God, Samira,” Cassie says, boneless, slumped against the wall. She whimpers a little, cunt clenching around empty space, when Samira removes her hand from between her legs. “Where’d you learn how to do all that?”
Samira wipes her glistening fingers off on Cassie’s scrubs. Cassie winces, but fair is fair. “Experience. Not that that’s any of your business.”
“Yeah? Have a history of finger-blasting girls in sketchy places?” Cassie smirks, amused.
“Must you be so crude?” Samira glares at her. “And, like I said. None of your business.”
“Okay, okay.” Cassie raises her palms in surrender. She pushes off the wall, straightening her scrubs. “I get it.”
Before she can get to the door, Samira stops her with a hand on her arm. Cassie pivots on her heel, an eyebrow raised.
“If you ever need a hand again…” Samira says, sounding, for the first time all afternoon, nervous.
“I’ll let you know.” Cassie tilts her head. Her mouth slices into a sharp grin. “You have hidden depths, Mohan.”
“And you’re just as I expected,” Mohan retorts.
Cassie laughs. “Touché,” she says.