How The Game Is Played by skripka
Summary: DiNozzo's got nothing on him.
Categories: Other Het Pairings Characters: None
Genre: PWP - Plot, What Plot?
Pairing: Gibbs/OFC
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 1386 Read: 3953 Published: 06/09/2006 Updated: 06/09/2006
Story Notes:
Gibbs: Okay. You know what would help this? Get me that reporter's number.
Jen: You're going to apologize?
Gibbs: No. Ask her to dinner.

1. How The Game Is Played by skripka

How The Game Is Played by skripka
Author's Notes:
DiNozzo's got nothing on him.
Cindy Sanchez is her name. She's a reporter for Channel Six. Somehow, it doesn't surprise Gibbs--WTEX isn't above a hack job.

But that's not why he's calling her.

He's calling her to piss off Jen.

Turnabout is fair play, after all.

Cindy's cooperative and has a voice to match her low-cut blouse. Gibbs smiles at it and her over the cup of coffee as she tries to pump him for more information on the case. He's an expert at playing cool, though, and she gives up in frustration.

"You're not going to toss me a bone here, are you?"

Gibbs just smiles and gives his best little-boy shrug. "Nope."

Cindy laughs. "You're good."

"And I haven't even taken you to dinner yet." She grins at that and pulls her hair behind her ear, flattered and completely charmed. Gibbs shakes his head inwardly. DiNozzo's got nothing on him.

"Is that an invitation, Special Agent Gibbs?"

He smiles. "Only if you say yes."




Cindy's apartment is near Kalorama; not quite the best part of the city, but definitely aiming in that direction. Perfect for the young reporter on the rise. Gibbs stands just the tiniest bit too close as she unlocks the door, not intimidating, just suggesting.

By the flush that's growing on the back of her neck, she's getting the message. A definite plus to dating redheads. He generally prefers curlier hair, though, but figures Cindy gets it straightened for work.

Gibbs puffs a lock of hair away from her skin, watching as it tries to frizz and smiling innocently at Cindy's nervous jump. "Sorry," he lies. "I couldn't resist."

The key slides home and she just shakes her head. "I'm sure you could have tried, Special Agent Gibbs." She twists around and opens the door behind her back, smiling as she backs into the apartment.

"It's Jethro." Gibbs puts his hand on top of hers, curling them both around the doorknob, letting his thumb slide just so. "And that's not a really good way to enter your apartment." He pushes and they move with the door.

She's amused. "Oh?"

Gibbs doesn't take the obvious bait and stands just in front of her, only his thumb moving, stroking her skin. "You're a public figure, Cindy." He rolls her name on his tongue. It tastes good; it tastes like too long since he's done this. "Gotta watch out for stalkers and the like."

Her laugh is warm and she tries to move closer to him; Gibbs doesn't let her, not yet. "So, how do you suggest I open my door, Jethro?" He smiles. It's even better when they play the game back.

He takes the step. "Well, ideally, you'd have someone open it for you, but I'm not always going to be available." Cindy nods, her eyes still smiling, her lips still wet where she licks them--she understands that what they're about to do is a one-off thing, and tacitly agrees. Good that neither of them is looking for anything more. "But it's important to always be aware of your surroundings."

Cindy makes her own move, wrapping her arms around his neck, dragging it down. "I'm aware of some things in my immediate area."

It's his turn to be amused, "Yeah?"

"Like there's this extremely attractive investigator who needs to close and lock my front door. And when he's done with that?" Cindy presses a light kiss to his chin before slipping away from Gibbs' grip. "He can figure out where my bedroom is."

GIbbs laughs. Too long since he's played this game. He watches, appreciative, as Cindy backs through her apartment--shedding shoes, purse, scarf--before disappearing through a doorway.

He locks the door behind him.

***

There's only one reason to play the game, and this? This is it. He's got thighs pressing against his ears, fingers inside a hot, wet cunt and the taste of a beautiful woman on his tongue.

Cindy's whimpering and cries out again when he curls a finger forward, pressing against her sweet spot. Gibbs does it again and tongues her clit once more and that's what pushes her over. Her muscles contract and she babbles as she comes on his face.

Gibbs pulls back, looks at her limp, purring body as he licks his lips. This is totally the reason for the games. He smiles, pleased with himself and his conquest. Cindy recovers with a throaty chuckle.

"You look like a cat who got into the cream," she smiles as she reaches lazily towards the nightstand.

Gibbs can't really disagree, so he shrugs and lets her kneel up, kiss him, and guide him onto his back. He smiles as he crosses his ankles and arms behind his head. His cock bounces happily as he settles in. "Got any plans?"

Cindy laughs again, smacking his shoulder lightly, the sting flying away with the breeze. "You're kind of arrogant, aren't you?"

"Never denied it." Gibbs softens the words with a grin. "Been told the 'B's stand for bastard."

"Oh, I imagine you have been." Her fingers have peeled the condom from its wrapper and she blows delicately, seeing which way it unrolls. Old trick, he thinks, vaguely enjoying the thought of this beautiful woman who's had her pick of men choosing him for the night. Then her hands wrap around his dick and unroll the condom, and it's all Gibbs can do to not thrust into her grip.

Gibbs opens his eyes to her sultry smile. "Like that?" she asks as she arranges herself and her long legs over his lap. Gibbs manages a nod and a grin before she sinks down on him, and it's all hot and tight and wet...

When she starts rocking, his hands grab onto her soft hips, guiding her. Cindy moans, her arms braced above him, fingers white-knuckled on the headboard, her breasts hanging over Gibbs' mouth. He takes the hint and mouths first one nipple and then the other, pleased with the sounds she produces and the way her cunt twists around his cock. The room smells like sweat and sex laid over the lavender scent of her sheets--thick and soft and cotton and sticking to his back.

It's the entire point of the game. He got the concession and promise of a retraction before the first course even arrived at dinner--no matter that he's going to tell Jen that he only had the one reason for tonight. No matter that nobody else will know that he got to taste and watch a gorgeous woman ride him. He knows the reason he's here, and it's building, sharp and hot in his gut.

Cindy moans as she grinds down, Gibbs' teeth scraping her skin lightly. He feels the pressure build as she clenches around him, babbling with her second orgasm. Gibbs groans in return, letting his body fall over the edge, climax making his fingers clench and his body arch.

Cindy smiles dreamily at him as they disengage. He grunts and rolls to a sitting position before pulling off the condom. Gibbs smiles briefly at the sight of Cindy's body sprawled out against the bed and finds the bathroom and a trashcan.

After a quick wash, he goes back to the bed, sitting down behind Cindy, who sighs and purrs under his touch. "Gonna spend the night?" Her voice is slurred, betraying a slight Texas accent.

He snorts softly and shakes his head. "You wouldn't like waking at four a.m., not if you're on the evening news schedule." Cindy's visceral shudder isn't faked.

"Do you ever sleep?" Her hand pats his absently.

"Not when I'm working." Gibbs leans down and kisses her cheek. "Call me tomorrow night. I'll give you the scoop."

Cindy twists to smile up at him. "Lucky me. Dinner, sex, and an exclusive." She sighs, happily, and her eyes drift closed. "Sorry 'bout the coffee."

Gibbs smiles and kisses her once more before finding his clothes and slipping out the door.

It's all about the game, after all.
End Notes:
Gibbs: Okay. You know what would help this? Get me that reporter's number.
Jen: You're going to apologize?
Gibbs: No. Ask her to dinner.
This story archived at http://www.ncisfiction.com/viewstory.php?sid=5673