Somehow, somewhere, within some span of time that evening, he'd gone from trying to distract himself from all the work he needed to do with a free show at The Viper Room to lying in his bed with a beautiful girl that he just happened to meet by nearly knocking her over on Sunset Boulevard. The turn of events wasn't bad. Or disappointing. Or, surprising, really.

Not that he was being cocky or that he had never been turned down (because it had happened), but because he just had a feeling that things would work out this way. There was something about her that told him, even through his drunken stupor, that she was alright. That he could trust her to rescue him. Trusting people in LA could be scary.

Gabby was quite pleasant, though. And not scary at all.

She did him the favor of removing her clothes. He would have liked to do it, but there's something sexy about a woman who just can't wait. Strewn about the bedroom-on the floor, the foot of the bed, hanging from a lamp shade, was evidence that Gabby was a fun girl. Underneath him, in the bed,  her legs wrapped around him, her arms circling his neck, her lips on his, her skin burning red hot and her hips moving in steady rhythm with his, Gabriele-the refined adult that appreciated the finer points of making love-was showing him a thing or two.

"How do you like it?"

JC paused, surprised at her question. "Huh?"

"Sex. How do you like it? Loud? Quiet? Soft? Hard?" She giggled, wiggling herself beneath him, pushing on his hips to make him move, again. "Can I scream? Do you like dirty talk? How do you like it?"

JC laughed, trying his best to keep his rhythm steady. Couldn't lose momentum-there was nothing worse than a rhythm-less fuck. "All of the above. I like it however you wanna do it. Whatever gets you off. How about you? What can I do for you?"

Gabby grunted and moaned, her sounds getting louder, her grasp on him growing tighter, her nails digging into his skin. He loved it.

"I like it hard. You can fuck me. Fuck me like you'll never see me again."

That was all he needed to hear. The sun was creeping up over the horizon while the moon lowered below, and JC was having the best sex he'd had all year-- hands down. The bed rocked against the wall, banging in loud, steady bursts of energy that grew faster and harder, competing with the grunts and screams and cries that filled the room until each of them shook with the force of climax. Bodies stiffened, jaws clenched, toes pointed and hips convulsed, sucking out every last drop.

Sated and soaked with sweat, JC couldn't even manage to open his eyes. Limp, he rolled to his side and passed out where he landed. Gabby wasn't far behind him.

Hours later in the full, bright light of late morning, Gabby tiptoed around the bedroom, collecting her clothes from their various landing spots. She giggled, spotting her bra hanging from the bedside lampshade. She grabbed it, glanced at JC, and almost jumped a foot back when she saw his eyes were open.

"Sneakin' out?" A shiver ran up her spine. His voice was low, and raw and ragged. She'd worn him right out. Sexy.

"Not really sneaking," she whispered. "How are you?"

A smile crossed his lips. He started a slow, lazy stretch, kicking his feet under the sheet. "I'm really good. Really good. Same?"

Gabby smiled, coy. She assembled her bra and put it on, sliding her arms into the openings. He'd never understand those contraptions but damn if it didn't make her boobs look good. He was already regretting that she had to leave. She reached for her blouse and pulled it on as well, then pulled on her jeans.

"Enjoy the show?" She smirked, running her fingers through an impossibly high, wild pile on top of her head.

"Was better last night when you were taking it off." He pointed toward the bathroom. "Second drawer on the right, there's some travel stuff in there. Toothpaste, comb, mouthwash, deodorant. Help yourself."

She chuckled, stepping into the bathroom. "You sound like you've done this before."

"Hey, hey, hey. No editorializing. Use what you need."

She spent a few minutes in the bathroom and when she came out, looked good as new. Well, good as new could look after the night they had. He sat up, pulling on the cotton pants he'd just removed hours before and followed her out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

"I had... so much fun." Gabby grinned, reaching for her shoes and her purse, digging her keys out of the zippered pocket on the side.

"Me too. Getting drunk was never so rewarding before." JC followed her through the house while she collected things she'd left and then wandered, slowly and begrudgingly, to the front door.

"So..." She hesitated, her back against the door.

"So... uh... that whole thing about never seeing you again?"

Her face clouded over and her smile faded. She dipped her head to the side, slightly. "I leave tomorrow. I'm... I have to go..."

"Well, I just meant... I know where New York is. It's not an impossibility that I might see you again."

She brightened, her smile reappearing. "Really?"

"Sure," he said, pulling her to him. "Maybe I could come out there sometime. Soon.  Maybe you could let me rescue you. Again."

Gabby nodded, stretching up onto her toes to kiss him. She hugged him tight, the sadness at having to leave fading away, replaced by the excitement of something to look forward to- a new job, a new city, and a new friend who would be coming to see her, soon.

"I'd like that," she said.  "I would rescue you right back."