She shouldn't be doing this. She knows it - not even because of the obvious, like the fact that she's in a hotel just off campus, or that Cassie's older than she is, or the fact that they're rivals. She shouldn't be doing this because it's a bad idea.

But that's not stopping her from kissing Cassie, backing her against the door and holding her hip still. Cassie gasps, which just makes it easer to keep the kiss aggressive, in Angela's control. She wants - she wants so much, all the time, and there's nothing stopping her from taking it right now.

"Bed," Cassie says.

She wants to be contrary, just to piss her off, but she wants to get laid more. They stumble back and fall into the bed, Cassie sprawled over Angela. They're both wearing jeans and t-shirts, nothing fancy, so Angela strips her shirt off without thinking of it, then pulls Cassie's off and blinks.

Cassie scowls at her. "What do you think this is, a museum?" She leans down and kisses Angela, unhooking her bra and rolling her nipple between her fingers.

Angela hates how she gasps, the way she pushes up eagerly. But she hates it less when Cassie pulls her jeans down, her underwear going with it, so that she's naked and spread out while Cassie kisses her way down Angela's body.

"Oh," she says stupidly when Cassie rubs her clit.

This isn't - there's no real buildup, but Angela's so wet she's aching, and every little brush of Cassie's fingers against her makes her hips jerk. Cassie smirks and then -

Oh, God. She's eating Angela out, and the visual alone is so hot that Angela's head is spinning a little. They shouldn't do this, they don't do this, but Cassie's fingering her and sucking her clit, fucking her until she can't do anything but throw her head back and try to hold on.

When she comes, Cassie doesn't let up. Angela almost pushes her off when another wave hits her, and she presses her hips up, jolting Cassie in spite of the grip Cassie has on her, and losing track of everything but how good it feels.

Cassie sits up after that. She's still wearing her pants, and that's wrong - so wrong that Angela knocks her back and pulls them off.

"This is a bad idea," she feels like she has to say, but she gets Cassie's underwear out of the way and rubs her clit. She's wet, as wet as Angela, and Angela can barely process how it feels, knowing they're both stupid enough to want this.

"Shut up," Cassie says. She leans up to kiss Angela - she's flexible, and oh, fuck, Angela's into that. They kiss as Angela fingers her, Cassie shuddering and rocking her hips sharply, demanding more even as Angela tries to make it last. When she comes, it's with a groan into Angela's mouth - and after, Angela licks her fingers, watching Cassie as she does it.

They don't lie around. They never do. Cassie's just passing through, and Angela has school, and hockey, and - it's just a bad idea to pretend this isn't semi-convenient hooking up. Even if Angela knows she's going to have to take the train back to school, and calling it even semi-convenient is maybe stretching it.

"So," she says as she puts her jeans back on.

"Need a walk back to the station? Maybe a kiss on the forehead?"

Cassie's only an asshole about Angela's age after they've done this. "No," Angela snaps, and pulls her shirt on. "Later."

She grabs her purse and leaves without looking back. Maybe she won't do this again. Maybe -

No. No maybes. There'll be a next time, and a time after that. And Angela can't say she's not looking forward to it.