•Risking It All•

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***Summary: Simon fingering you under the table during a night out at the bar with the Taskforce.***

The feeling of rough fingers grazing against your clothed thigh is not uncommon, not when seated next to Lt. Riley. His precious plaything, his best kept secret, he is always trying to steal little moments any chance he can get and tonight's no exception, even if it is risky. Fuck, that heightens the need for him to prove he isn't afraid to jeopardize everything just to make sure he keeps his pretty little thing at his mercy.

The bar is busy, crowded with loud, inebriated people there to drink and have fun. You find yourself sitting around a group of tables that have been pushed together to fit everyone in the taskforce from Captain Price to the newest recruits around. Everyone is in a good mood even being squashed in tight together, all going about laughing and drinking away as they enjoy a well-deserved night of freedom, none the wiser as to what is beginning to happen right under their noses just below the tabletop.

And neither do you, not yet.

Simon keeps his hand firmly on you, letting it rest there possessively on your thigh as he lifts his mask from time to time to take sips off his glass of bourbon, massaging the muscle for a while as he listens at the edge of the conversations going on around that you are also barely paying attention to. Round two and then three happen the same as before until there is a shift in that burly military man's demeanor.

Those fingers that had been content to lay on your lap start to wander, fueled by the liquor flowing through his veins, making rational thought fly away, and soon you can feel his hand moving upward and inching itself closer to the waistband of your pants. There is a sudden warmth at the side of your head as you take another swig from your drink, letting the liquid spirits run down the back of your throat like fire as you keep your eyes forward.

"Open your legs," the gravelly, heavily accented voice at your elbow growls in a hushed whisper into your ear through the smoke of his cigarette perched between his fingers. Simon reaches the top of your pants with the opposite hand and slips his fingers between the fabric and your balmy skin.

He has to be ever so slow or risk the movement of his arm giving him away to anyone who happens to pay enough attention in that moment as he carefully undoes the button of your jeans and slowly lowers the zipper all the way down until it stops. Risking a glance up into his face, you are met with a devilish smirk that makes your heart skip a beat and instantly lets you know you are in deep fucking shit now; he's in the mood to play.

"Really?" you whisper back as you hold your drink to your lips to keep up the act, cheeks flushing fiery hot and not from the alcohol. Discreetly you try squeezing your legs together slightly, having just a bit of sense left to know that he should stop, you could get caught red handed, but at the same time not really wanting him to. "Not here. Wait till later; we'll have fun when we get back."

"Yes, here. Open. Your. Legs." he repeats more firmly this second time as his hand slips inside the opening he's created and right down between your thighs to pry them apart with the width of his hand. "Need ta feel ya, pretty girl."

The alcohol heightens that feeling of giddy excitement, the rush and euphoria of doing something so insanely risky, and as you look around at the distracted faces at the table you can't resist, not when his hand is already inside your pants. You move in your seat so that you can open your legs as wide as you can without it looking strange.

Even with the imminent threat of detection growing by the second, there is no stopping him as Simon's tough, calloused fingers search around until they locate the crotch of your panties and lace themselves through the seam, pulling them to the side until your pussy is exposed to his hand. There is a subtle heat that hits his fingertips, inviting him in further now that there is nothing to block it and he can feel his cock throb as it hits his hand. You swallow hard, breathing heavily out of your nose to help calm yourself as you clamp your lips shut to stop from audibly moaning at that first contact.

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