Here's the thing.

Sam has never been especially adventurous when it comes to sex. Not that… so, he's tried different positions obviously, but when it comes down to it he lost his virginity to Naomi and by that time he was pretty sure he was going to marry her. Missionary sex is still sex, and can still be hot, so why rock the boat?

It's not a comparison, you see. It's just, they've pulled his car over onto the side of the road, and she's straddling him again, except this time the shock, the surprise, the disbelief, is gone because it's not their first time and by now he realizes, yes he is actually dating Addison, crazy as it may seem. So he's running his hands all over her body, over her hips, down the back of her thighs, pulling her closer, and they're making out like teenagers. Three buttons of his shirt is undone, and Addison's hair is in disary, and there's moaning, and grinding, and the radio is playing in the background.

"Should we..." Sam murmurs as Addison works her teeth and tongue over the exposed skin on his chest, her hips pressing down onto his hardening cock, "Drive back home, maybe? God… bed?"

"Why wait?" she whispers back, pulling his wrist up her legs and guiding it to the hem of her skirt. Sam eagerly yanks the fabric further up her thighs until its bunched up around her hips, and toys with the fabric of her underwear, dipping down slowly to caress the soft skin of her behind. Her panties are the only thing separating him and her now, and honestly by the way he's pressing into her crotch, the thin cotton doesn't seem to have much of say in anything.

It started off innocently enough. Sneaking quick, heated kisses in stairwells, and parking lots, and even the scrub room once after the patient has been taken away, heart and baby out of the woods. Offices are a big no; around Oceanside they're keeping things professional (also, by this point, rolling around half naked in the lobby would probably be more conspicuous than closing the blinds). Then their morning shower sessions happened with more and more frequency, then that one, unfortunately interrupted, time in the on-call room, and now the car.

He's soaking her up, taking her in. Addison's an addiction, but due to the current circumstances of the relationship and the complications of their past, Sam can't yet indulge with the openness he would prefer. No public pecks or displays of affection. So it builds up and intensifies throughout every second of the day.

Not that he's complaining, necessarily.

Sam tugs at the waistband of her underwear, pushing it down her slender, tanned thighs to her knees, before traveling back up to her newly exposed center and slipping two fingers aside. Addison moans softly in his ear, hands trembling slightly as they pull open the buttons on her blouse. Her hips shift against the movement of his fingers, helping them plunge deeper into her as she presses her lips against his.

The kiss plus the feel of Addison's hand traveling down his chest, and the anticipation of where she might be intending to go, distracts Sam enough so that he momentarily abandons his ambition of bringing her to orgasm. In retaliation, Addison moves from the button of his slacks to grab his hand and press it harder into her. She gasps as he makes up for his lapse by rubbing firm circles around her clit while slipping his free hand into her open shirt, pushing up the cup of her bra, and massaging the full breast underneath. Before long, Sam feels her body shudder over his, inner walls clenching furiously around his fingers as Addison's first climax washes over her.

She hasn't even finished moaning his name when Addison reaches in between them to open his pants and start stroking him. He's murmuring his approval into her cleavage and she's whispering things back like please, and now, and then somehow, Sam has the seat reclined as far back as it goes and Addison's steadying her self with one hand on his shoulder as she guides his cock into her, warm and wet and tight and wonderful.

"I can't believe," Addison says in between heavy breaths and she begins to move her hips, coming down each time he thrusts up into her, "you wanted to go home."

"I am a stupid, stupid man," he agrees breathlessly, drunk off the feeling of her sliding over, welcoming in, clenching around him, mesmerized by the sight of her. Her hair falling into her face, her heavy-lidded eyes glazed over, her breasts, now completely exposed, rising invitingly up with each thrust. There's a commercial playing in the background, and the car is stifling hot from the midday sun, and it's far from romantic but at the same time it is. They don't need anything else but them. Sam doesn't need anything but her.

Addison's hands move to his chest, bracing herself as she grinds on him at a faster pace, climax building up inside her once again. Sam's grip is strong low down on her hips, against the flesh of her bottom, and his lips keeps capturing hers, open, hot, tongues meeting again and again until finally, with one last thrust against her cervix she exploded, screaming his name in an expulsion of breath, feeling him fill her with his own release.

"Not much space for cuddling," Sam notes, in between breaths, nuzzling her neck as they both try to regain equilibrium.

"Maybe not," Addison replies, grinning down at him before pushing the hair out of her face and sinking to her knees in front of him. "But on the bright side, at least there's plenty of leg room."