The Perfect Weapon Chapter 13 part 2 section 3 of 6

[camillecarelli]

"First, I truly," he sighed, "Truly enjoyed doing that. The look on your face as you hit the water...Priceless." Then switching back to Russian, he added, "And it was a memory for your memory book. Will you ever forget that moment when I let you go or you hit the water and went under?"

"Nyet." She shook her head and smiled. "You twit," she said in English, then switched back to Russian again unconsciously. "Thank you for the memory. But....what if I had fallen and hurt myself?"

"Not a chance, the swirling and foaming of the water, the force of the jets would hold you up. And---"

"And you would have caught me," she said, shrugging, knowing it to be true. 
He shrugged as well. Then pulling her toward him, he caught her breath as he caught her mouth with his. Pressing and licking and nipping at her lips until she tore her mouth from his and demanded, "What are we doing standing up, when we could be--"

"Getting wet?" he laughed softly. She began to smile, then lost her breath in a gasp as he reached one hand between her legs and stroked inwardly. "But, honey, I think you're already wet."

"Shut up and sit down," she growled at him, feeling her legs growing unsteady with his words. Felt her confidence grow unsteady with the tick she heard behind each word. Why was he wasting time like this? Grabbing his shoulders in her hands, automatically rubbing her thumb against the hurt she had left with her teeth, she pushed him down on one of the built-in seats in the tub. Standing over him, she swiftly swung one leg across his and sat down on his lap. "You always liked this position, didn't you?"

"Mmm, yes. I can touch all of you this way," he said, his mouth against her collarbone, his hands cupping her buttocks, squeezing and releasing until she began to rock against him. He immediately scooted back.

Moving forward against his hardness, she said fiercely, "We don't have all day, Jack, thanks to your need to engage in a stupid argument over nothing. Move it. Move for me." He opened his mouth, shocked at her aggressiveness, shocked at her obtuseness, prepared to lose it, lose control, when she fastened her lips to his. Allowing his anger to transform into another kind of heat, he gripped the back of her head and pulled her closer to him, but not as close as she wanted, she thought in frustration, feeling the need and fear and that damn tick, TICK, TICK with every breath he took. Holding his face in both hands, she pressed her body against his as she kissed him frantically, needing to connect one last time.

Tearing his mouth away, he told her, "Shh, slow down." He knew her, knew her body, if she was quite this frantic she'd never be able to achieve release and that would not suit his plans. Plus it would spoil his perfect record of never leaving a 'lady' lacking on this type of op. He shifted his body, moved his arm to the edge of the tub.

"What are you doing? Where are you going?" She asked as he lifted his head and reached a hand out.

"Calm down, I'm not going anywhere until you've---" No, he had been checking for the tiny little syringe. But then he sucked in a breath as she grabbed his hips and impaled herself on him. "Damn!" he said in English, the curse surprised out of him as his back arched. He had to have control.... 
"Nyet, you're not going anywhere," she said. "I have you. Moya. Moya." She bit his shoulder again, the curve of his bicep as he reached out to steady himself against the lip of the tub, then bit again anywhere, everywhere she could reach before she asked against his mouth. "Moya. Do you understand me?"

"Nyet. Explain it to me again," he said, his voice soft, although his body and mind were hard with anger, as he fitted his mouth to hers. "I'm slow," he added as he languorously rotated his hips against her softness. "Very slow when I want to be. But is that what you want? Tell me. You have to tell me. Any language. Your choice."

"Russian. Always Russian. Just keep on speaking Russian to me. I dreamed of this, you talking to me in that voice, as we made love, in Russian. So many times, I'd wake up in the night terrified that I had spoken aloud the words I was hearing you say in my head, in my dreams..."

"Ah, that's when you would wake me up in the night, already---"

"Ready. Yes, ready. Jack, I'm ready now---"

"Oh, but I'm not. I told you. I'm slow," he said in that voice, watching her shiver, feeling the shiver in the taut muscles of her thighs gripping his hips, feeling the shiver in the wet, warm combination of strength and softness that surrounded him that was the eternal mystery of the feminine that had enslaved men for centuries...but would not today, he told himself. This would be easier if he could not see Laura's face looking at him with the eyes of a stranger. And it would also please her, drive her insane to the point of...Ah, a doubleplay. Doubleplays were always good. Putting firm hands on her hips, he held her still as he slid out of her, slowly, waiting until she was poised, ready for him to slide back up and then without a word just pulled out of her.

"Jack! What are you---"

"Get on your hands and knees," he said in Russian. She gasped, felt herself turn more liquid inside. If that were possible. "Turn around and get on your hands and knees. Do it. You know you want to."

"I don't--"

"Oh, you want it," he said in that voice, taking her mouth with his. Just as her lips began to cling to his, he pulled away. "Hands and knees. That's how you like it when you're in this kind of mood, remember? I remember." I remember what you're like when you're afraid you're going to lose me. He was expecting another torrent of bites any time now. "Don't let false pride keep you from what you want. We don't have the time for a review of Pride and Prejudice right now. In fact," he said, leaning down and capturing her mouth and kissing her until she began to whimper, "In fact, this position will give us more time for...a replay. Wouldn't you like that? More time?" tick, TICK, TICK

She nodded.

"Trust me." He dipped his hand between her legs and began stroking her until she arched toward him. "You trust me, don't you? With your body? With your pleasure? With you?"

"Yes, of course, but..."

"You'll like that position in this tub. Have I ever led you down the wrong path?"

"No," she said. "You always know the best way...."

"That's right. And you want me to take control, don't you? Don't you?"

"Yes.... Next time, Jack, it will be your turn."

"Oh, I know it will. But, get on your hands and knees. Now."

She turned over. He guided her knees into position and then putting one knee between her legs, nudged her forward.

"Surprise," he whispered in her ear as he opened her folds with one hand and pushed her into the jet of water.

"Oh! Damn you!" she exclaimed and then closed her eyes. "How did you know just where to put me?" she gasped.

"There is," he paused and said pompously, "Absolutely no substitute for exhaustive background research." She smiled, nodded to acknowledge the dig. Then smiled again as he continued, "What did you think I was doing in here all that time? Giving myself a facial?"

Unwillingly, she began to laugh, then gasped as he slid right inside her at just the right moment. Feeling him shiver as she laughed, as her muscles moved around him, as he pushed her into the jet of water, she tried to stem the tide of feelings that were swamping her as he moved within her. No, she wanted to wait for him, she thought frantically, he had to be with her. "Too much?" he asked and slipped out of her, making her groan. Damn him, how did he know....She rubbed her buttocks against him, trying to find him, but he evaded direct friction and she looked back and whispered again, "Damn you."

"Irritated with me, Irina?" he asked softly as his hands reached around and palmed her breasts. "Hmm, could be irritation. These are very hard little points, aren't they? But I wonder," he said, sliding one hand down her torso and hips, and then inward, "As hard as this little point?"

"Jack, stop it. You know what I want," she said, almost sobbing as his fingers stroked and circled, somehow in perfect accompaniment to the timing of the massaging waters that were bringing her right to the edge. Oh, god, so close.

"How do you want it?" he asked, his mouth against her ear, licking the lobe so softly she stilled completely to feel every tiny touch. She turned her head to see his face, knowing somehow, with just that particular tone of voice, that the look on his face was one she had seen over and over in her memory book, captured in one of her photographs she had left behind in her portfolio. "Do you want it.....Long and slow....?" he pushed himself against her, back and forth, letting her feel all of him, over and over until she whimpered. Then he stopped suddenly and thrusting himself inside her once, then over and over, growled, "Or hard and fast and quick?"

She could not have torn her gaze away from the power in his face, in his eyes if Rambaldi himself had walked in the room, she thought. She gasped and tightened her legs around his, met his body's every movement, tried to tighten her muscles around him so closely that he could not leave her. Wanting to make that power her own, knew she could if he would just let her, desperate to connect with him whichever way he wanted. However, whenever. Just....Then he stopped moving and pulled out of her body, leaving her feeling empty. "Damn it, Jack. Touch me, touch me!"

"Touch you? Hmm. Like this?" He asked as one finger gently touched her heated flesh. Too gently, she thought, trying to grind herself on his hand. "Oh, or maybe you want this type of touch..." he purred as he thrust a finger inside her and manipulated her with a thumb. Watching her head arch back, he waited, counted, then whispered against her lips. "So....How long will it take you this time? One minute? Two minutes? Or is the correct question, how many times can I make you come in the time remaining? Or how many times can I make you scream? Will the guards in the hallway hear you scream? Would you care?"

"Jack..."

"Would you care if I invited them in to watch, to see you lose control in my arms, to see you plead? Would you care if I had them take pictures? You like pictures, don't you? Would you like pictures of my hands on your skin? My mouth on your skin?"

"Jack..."

"I know one picture I'd like. Too bad we don't have the chain or I could finally get the photo of your waist with the chain I've wanted for so long, hmm?" He said it softly, then looked to see her reaction. Watched her squeeze her eyes shut, try to shake her hair to shield her face. When he reached a gentle hand up to smooth her hair to one side, she opened them again. Then looked down, goaded by his words to watch his hands cup her breasts and rub the nipples with his thumbs, then slide down her body slowly, too damn slowly, moving over her hips, then trailing so slowly she---

"Jack, damn you! Take me already! Now."

"Now? But Irina. I have a question, it's...distracting me from giving you what you want," he purred in her ear, as the tip of one finger touched her so lightly she could barely feel it. Needing it, needing to feel his touch she pressed forward, seeking his caress, but he merely began petting her outer curves. "Do you want to answer it for me?" he asked and slid his finger within her folds until she began shuddering. "Or not?" and he removed his hand.

She stilled, outwardly, but inwardly her body still shook, was still engaged in its mad rush toward completion. She shook her head, trying to see something that was right there. "Jack, are you using sex as a weapon?"

With a guileless look, he grinned and asked, "Who? Me?"

"Yes, you! You...." she trailed off as he brushed his lips across her shoulder, then nuzzled into the curve of her neck before biting it. "....bastard."

"Hmm. Use sex as a weapon? With you? Between us? A novel idea. But then again, maybe not, eh?" He stopped, hearing that Canadian accent appear as it did very occasionally. Damn it, his anger was making him lose control of his words. Then he shrugged, oh well, she had heard it before, would probably never think twice.

She felt his shrug, could not help her involuntary shiver as she felt his chest muscles move across her back with the movement. Shivered again as he began thrusting inside her and began moving slowly, so slowly, in rhythm with his words, "Isn't that how this all started between us thirty years ago? Weren't you sent to seduce me? Using sex as the way to have me, using it as a weapon to get the intel you wanted? Well, I have something you want," he said and pulled out. She clenched her teeth to prevent the moan from escaping. "And you have something I want, a basic quid pro quo," he whispered and then pressed a finger inside her in slow circles within. The fingers of his other hand made slower circles around that point that was weeping for release as he said, "So, we circle back to the beginning--"

"Oh, god, not one of your damn circles. Or is this symmetry?" she groaned. Why did they need to have this conversation...wait, he was distracting her---

"Well, I'm thinking you might prefer the circle technique," he said, as his fingers moved between her legs and began teasing her again. Damn him, she was so close, if he would just stop skirting the edges and move to the center...."So, are you going to answer my question?"

"I don't even know what it is. How can I negotiate---" She closed her eyes, concentrating on the tactile pleasure of feeling his body, so warm and hard, enclosing her, making her feel safe even as her passion escalated out of control.

"There's no negotiating on this point," he said, flicking his nail across her over and over. "What do you want? Silence or....screaming? Tell me."

"How can I even think when you're---" she asked, rocking her body against his hand.

"Why not, can't you do two things at once?" he chuckled, as his hands did two things at once, both resulting in the same reaction. Bringing her right to the edge but not quite....

"Not this, not with you." Oh, god, she screamed inwardly as inwardly he pressed and released, pressed and released. She swore she would start screaming in one moment, if she could not find a way...Talk, Laura, say something, anything. Oh yeah! "And...since when do we really use sex as a weapon in our games? We don't--"

"Liar," he said softly, biting her shoulder, then moving to her neck. Oh, god, this was not good. Not the biting. Thank god, he stopped. But oh, no, now he was talking again. Just shut up, Jack, shut up! "How about our very first kiss that was your first step in my seduction---"

"You know, you know that it turned into something more the minute our lips touched, the minute our mouths opened for each other! You know that, you knew that the minute---"

"The minute you said 'oh!' I'll concede that point," he admitted, while flicking one thumb nail between her legs and the other across a nipple. "But how about that kiss in customs? How about the display of your pretty little bra in the train car? How about all those memories we shared together the last few months? The looks, the touches? How about all of our little word games, like on the plane the other day? You remember those, don't you?" He paused, then said in that purr of his, but with the added shiver of a Russian accent, "Irina?" Then he bit the back of her neck and involuntarily she let out a whimper. "But how about the night of the necklace? Weren't you using sex to get what you wanted? Or how about tonight?"

Tonight, the night of the necklace -- what's the difference, he asked himself? Both times you used sex to find a connection before you left me, some memory for your lonely nights, some way to give yourself something, never thinking what you were taking from me. Both times you thought that sex was what you wanted, that you could only find that connection through interlocking body parts, when what you really needed was to tell me the truth and allow our hearts to interlock, truly, for the first time. Was it a failure of courage, imagination or love? Did it matter at this point? He pressed his thumb on her point, flicked it, pressed it until she moaned, then withdrew.

"Tonight?" she asked cautiously, then moaned as his body pushed her toward the jets, tried to lean into him, take him inside her, wanting to curse as he evaded her once again.

"Weren't you using sex to find what you really wanted? The connection between lovers?" He thrust inside her once again. She closed her eyes and began to move against him and he responded, gave her what she wanted.

"You're not mad," she said suddenly in relief, looking back at his relaxed face. Or at least as relaxed as he could look while his body was making love to her.

"Of course not. Isn't sex, making love, the perfect weapon in our little game?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed as his fingers opened her folds to feel the pressure of the jet. Swallowing hard, she moved forward, then cursed when his strong hands held her back. She wanted....She had to find a way..."What....? Why are you talking about a weapon? What's that, a perfect weapon?"

"Oh, I think you know," he said, still using that voice. Running his tongue around the edge of her ear, he added softly, "You want me to make love to you. And I want the answers to a question. And I think the answer lies in what you wanted then, what you want right now. A nice little circle, you know how I like those," he purred as his fingers circled her, slowly, so slowly.

She bit her lip, trying to control it, trying to hear him, trying to find a way to get him to go over the edge and lose that blasted control.... "Jack, you know I love you. Want you. Need that connection..." she said, looking over her shoulder at him, wanting to see his face as she....

"Oh!" he breathed as she tightened her muscles around him. Biting her ear lobe, he growled softly, "You need that connection? Or the one here?" he asked, stroking across her breast to lightly touch her heart. "So you do understand, don't you? The perfect weapon to get what we want from each other is the...strength of the bonds between us, what holds us..." and he thrust forward, making her moan, "together. The faith--"

"The hope, the love. Yes, yes, Jack, the love. The links, the chain that binds us together. Forever and a day. Never forget that," she said, feeling some hint of desperation welling up within her as some sense of danger warned her that something.... 
"Oh, I'll never forget that. Or the trust. And especially the truth. Isn't it interesting in English that trust and truth are only separated by one letter?" he said in that voice, making her shiver. Why the hell was he talking about linguistics? She'd never understand him! Then she forgot her frustration as he bit the back of her neck, nuzzled into the curve in the center, licking and kissing. God, who knew that divot in one's neck could be so erogenous? But then again, he could probably excite her by kissing her elbow, damn him.

Kissing his way down her back, he let himself fall out of her body. Ignoring her protest, he used gentle hands to turn her to face him and urged her to the bench seat. Kneeling, he suddenly pushed her legs apart, making her gasp in surprise. He dove into her mouth as he slid between her knees. Stroking his hands down her thighs, he swiftly moved his hands to her center. With his fingers on either side of her pubic bone, began sweeping his thumbs up and down the edge of her swollen lips, even as his tongue stroked her mouth, her lips. Lifting his head, seeing the glaze in her eyes, feeling the slackness of her muscles as her legs fell even further apart, he moved forward, pressed his hardness inside her inch by inch. She sighed and bit her lip. "No, honey," he whispered. "Only I get to bite that lush lip of yours. That is, if you want me to. If you can answer my question." She pulled his head down and lifted her head to meet his as he proceeded to take her mouth with soft, languid kisses on the swollen lips of her mouth.

"What is it? What else can there be? Your question?" she asked desperately, her mind scattered as his body moved, as his fingers opened and plucked and stroked, as the water swirled around her, the steam rising clouding her vision, even as something tapped, tapped, tapped at her brain, reminding her of Jack's history, telling her that his choice of words was not incidental. Words were never incidental with Jack. They could be blocks that built a bridge of love and need and desire or they could be--

"What else can there be? Oh, let's try this." he asked softly, continuing to speak in Russian, as his hands equally gently stroked her body endlessly, as he filled her so completely, one last time, one last time, she thought, willing the thought away even as it occurred. She lifted her head, feeling soporific as he asked in Russian, in between bites and kisses, "Why were you in that prison in Kashmir?"

A weapon, words as weapons, she thought, feeling...what was it? She....all she could feel was the water alternately pummeling and teasing her overheated, overexcited body, surrounding her, even as his body surrounded her, as his eyes compelled her to look at him, as his soft voice urged her to, "Tell me, honey. Tell me." He pulled out of her slowly, making her groan, then groan again as one hand cupped her and the other played with her nipple, so slowly as if they had all the time in the world, as if this were just a casual conversation. As if she and Jack had ever had a casual conversation and the time...tick, TICK, TICK

"Why was I in the prison in Kashmir?" she asked, trying to pull herself together, even as a tiny little voice urged her to let go and.... She shook her head. She couldn't let go, he wouldn't let her come, he wanted...What did he want? "What? What did you say?"

"Don't understand the question in Russian? Let me repeat it to you in English." He did so, and continued, "Don't like that one? Let me try another one. Might as well go for broke." He thrust forward in rhythm with his words and then began moving his hand again. "How many times did you try to contact me?" He leaned forward and gently bit her shoulder, her neck, feeling her shudder beneath him, then feeling how close she was, how the bites might just send her over the edge, he pulled back.

"Jack, you cannot do this, you cannot mean to....Oh! No, no...." She gasped. "Is this how you got intel, is this your SOP for getting intel verbally on your in and outs?"

Direct hit, Irina. She was too smart, too attuned to him, to not have this occur to her. But, too too bad, he had expected this. "No, you're being paranoid. Get a grip on reality."

"Paranoid?" she asked, trying to summon indignation, but feeling as if her responses, her brain was drowning in sensation as he stroked every sense into hypersensitive life. As every nerve-ending in her body reached for release, was becoming desperate to achieve it, could care less what the brain wanted, what the brain sought. How could she distract him and get what she wanted, get a doubleplay? She smiled. "Get a grip?" Darting her hands forward to grasp his hardness, she encircled the base with one hand and began stroking him with the nails of her other hand, enjoying the sight of his eyes open infinitesimally wider, which in another man would be the equivalent of a scream. Or an orgasm. But not Jack, damn him. There was such a thing as too much control, for crying out loud, she thought in exasperation. What...oh, words, use words, Laura. "This is the reality I'd like to get a grip on."

He swallowed hard. "I....see. But there is one reality you are missing." Well, more than one, but there is just one...version of reality, well a reality somewhere in the world, that I'll point out. "This couldn't be a screw and skedaddle for one simple reason."

"What's that? Enlighten me, since you such a master of this type of op." To her surprise, he suddenly arched his back and pushed himself into her hands. She smiled and stroked him.

He smiled and began stroking her. "I'm surprised you didn't think of this yourself."

"Just answer the damn qq question!" She stuttered as he pressed the tip of his hardness against her softness and slid it up and down. She lifted her hands to his shoulders and tugged him closer, then bit his arm, tiny little bites up and down, then sucked where the muscle flared out. She had to taste him, one last time. Imprint his taste, his scent, everything, one last time before she left. So soon, so soon, she'd have to leave...tick, TICK, TICK

"This couldn't be a screw and skedaddle, because that kind of op is predicated upon the necessity of never seeing the victim again. And I'll be seeing you just as soon as we have finished this op, and every day for the foreseeable future. In your cell, not the optimum situation, but...I'll be seeing you tomorrow, and the day after and the day after that. So, it can't be a screw and skedaddle, can it?" And he slid inside her, then began moving again. She moved her hands down his back, kneading the muscles there on her way down. She bent forward and sucked a point on his shoulder as her hands rolled over his buttocks and squeezed him, trying to pull him closer.

When he did not respond, she stared at him, trying to understand the glint in his eyes, the faint warning bell she was hearing, which was being drowned out by the guilt pouring over her. Guilt? Where had that notion come from?

"And besides, honey, this is my SOP for in and outs," he said into her ear, using that slow, almost syrupy voice. "This..." She struggled to ignore the impact of that voice, that tone, the power in it and failed utterly as he slowly thrust into and out of her over and over, so slowly she held her breath on each outward stroke, afraid he would not return. "Oh and this too," he said, pushing her legs further apart with a shift of his hips. One thumb began flicking again in rhythm to his hips, stroking her softness, then that hard little point that felt like it was its own clock, setting its own pace, its own rhythm to some tick, TICK, TICK that she could no longer control. His other hand flowed up, up pushing the eddies of water up over her rib cage that was struggling for breath, up until he could pluck and roll her nipple, so slowly, so sensuously she could feel contractions beginning, slow, so slow so could barely feel the danger of her response.

Taking her mouth in a kiss that again began so slowly, she bit his lip in frustration and moaned, "Hurry, hurry."

"But I like it slow remember? Slow with you. You're worth the time and effort. So, no this isn't my SOP. Takes too much time. Too much effort. Too much intimacy," he said, as he circled her hard little point with one hand. "I save this technique for particularly difficult cases. Like you," he said in a teasing voice. "So...are you going to answer my question?" When she did not respond, he asked, "Or not?" and stopped all movement. Negative reinforcement.

She bucked against him, then looking at him, realized something and relaxed. He began petting her again the minute he felt her muscles loosen up. Positive reinforcement. She commented with a smile, "Oh, wait a minute. This technique wouldn't make a lot of sense. If you have to blackmail them into giving up their secrets, wouldn't they remember and afterwards--" 
"Good point. Now you're thinking." He captured her mouth in a kiss designed to prevent any more thought processes from making their way to that sharp brain of hers. Lifting his head, then coming back to her mouth as if he could not bear to let it go for one minute, one second, he stroked his tongue inside and coaxed her tongue into his mouth, where he sucked on it, tickled the tip of it with his. Pulling back with a regretful sigh, he said against her mouth, "Mmm. The only way this technique would work is if I hypnotized them, right?" Bah, hypnotism in a s&s, the sign of a pathetic amateur, he thought with scorn. He much preferred other options, such as getting them so confused with a mix of desire and subtle questions and exhaustion, that they did not know what they were saying, could barely remember the next morning, when they woke up late. Ah, options, life and the game were full of them. And here's another option, raising anxiety, as he stared into her eyes and said as he shrugged. "And that might be a possibility. You may recall, I excel at that particular technique and--"

"Jack Bristow, don't even think of it!" she protested and gave him an elbow to the ribs. Then rubbed her hand in a silent apology against the hard wall of his chest.

"I wasn't." He smiled, touched her hand with his, accepting that apology. They held hands for a moment, just as they had through that rollercoaster of a conversation in the bathroom, seeking the innocent connection of their youth in the maelstrom of deception and need of maturity; but which one, he thought, when had they been truly mature, truly wise? But he'd take this apology, he thought, as he stroked her palm with his fingers, after all he was not likely to get any other.

"First of all, I doubt very much that I could hypnotize you -- you are too strong-willed, have too much control of your mind and emotions." He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips, then put it around his neck. He slid his hands up her thighs and she automatically opened them wider, then groaned as he ignored the invitation to slide up to her waist and encircle it his hands.

She sighed, his hands....so warm, so big, so....talented, those hands. That belonged to her. Moya, moya, she said to herself as he rubbed the tips of his finger around her waist, just where her chain had lain against her skin.

Abruptly he stopped and with a firm touch moved his hands down to where they were joined. "Secondly, most importantly, I want you to be fully cognizant of everything I'm doing to you," he said softly, never breaking eye contact, even as his body and fingers began moving again. "And I want you to remember this. This whole night. Remember everything I've done and never forget."

"I won't, I won't."

"Oh, I know you won't."

"I want to remember this..." This last night for her memory book unless she could find a way.... she thought. But no, she would find a way, she just needed a little more time for Rambaldi. But then a little voice asked how much time she thought she had left. She shook her head and pushed the thought down into that little box that was nearly bursting at the seams, just like she felt she would burst any minute, any minute, if he would just push his fullness...right there. Oh please, right there.... "And you must remember this...."

"A kiss is just a kiss?" he asked with a smile. "Casablanca, one of your favorites." Then his eyes narrowed. Had she thought, wondered, as he had ever since Sydney had ascertained the truth, how very odd it was that they had never met in some dive somewhere sometime? "Tell me, is a kiss just a kiss?" he asked and bit her lip and rubbed it between his lips before delving within on her sigh.

"Nyet....I'll always remember this night, Jack. One of many, but still, special. Every time with you was special. Because you are special. Moya. Yes, yes, I want to remember it all."

"Good. But what else do you want?" She looked at him helplessly. "Do you want to come, honey? Do you? How many times?" he asked, kissing her inbetween each question, then nipping at her lip and rolling it between his lips, flicking his tongue at it, just like he did when....oh, don't think of that, don't...they didn't have time....

"But the time...." she moaned.

"Don't worry." He laughed.

Oh no, she thought, don't laugh while you are buried inside me, don't...."What?" How could she not worry, that damn tick, TICK, TICK He laughed again. "What's so funny?" she asked, trying to concentrate. But maybe if she concentrated on that throbbing between her legs that seemed to grow exponentially with every second, every TICK, she could-- damn it! He was talking again.

"Oh, I was just thinking that Sloane can wait until I'm done with you. Until you're done with me. Like he and Emily waited every time for us, especially when it was an event at their house. That if he knew we were together right now he'd never expect you to be on time, because we never were on time, were we? Remember?"

"No," she laughed. Then groaned. Laughing was not good. Shaking her head, she added, "We did have a habit of getting distracted in the car, didn't we? You were a very bad man in a car." Her head arched back as his finger pressed, just that one finger....He bent his head and traced a pattern on her neck with his tongue. So warm....What was it...was it the infinity symbol....a warm, wet infinity symbol. Oh...did he know....Oh, did she care, just don't stop, don't....Don't talk again, Jack! Damn it! 
"Mmm." The sound vibrated against her throat, then throughout all of her as he continued talking and moving his head down her chest. That was good, just keep making that sound and moving down.... "Me?" Oh, c'mon! "Correct me if I'm wrong, but were we ever in the car alone without your hand on my thigh or...."

She smiled, albeit tightly. "Ahem. Can I help it if I love those long, um, legs of yours?" She ran both hands up and down his thighs, then wrapped her legs around the taut muscles at the back of his thighs to pull him closer, and lightly pinched one of his nipples when he resisted.

"You know, when we go home, I'll have to find a way for us to take a ride - just us two - in a car somewhere." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. She smiled, hoped it was not a sad smile as she tried not to remember the truth, tried to see the future the way he did. Full of potential. But what was she seeing - the future was full of potential. She'd solve Rambaldi, all she needed was a little more time. Just a little more and then she could move on and then find a way back to him. He'd forgive her. After all, he had forgiven her for twenty years ago, hadn't he? He wouldn't be making love to her like this if he hadn't. He had had his little burst of temper, then apologized. Just like...Wait...

Seeing the glint in her eyes, he spoke, "Remember?" Cupped her breasts in both hands and rubbed them until she arched and rubbed back, trying to push her nipples into his fingers. He carefully scraped his nails against her until they peaked and he resumed petting them.

"But, today's cars don't have those bench seats," she noted. "It would be...hard for you to cuddle me close and play with my breasts..."

"You honestly think I could not find a way? I have long arms, big hands, remember?" She giggled. He smiled, added, "And...there's always another option. Limos, for example. More room to stretch out."

"Good point." She squeezed his butt, then slid her hand around and under, making him jump. "Hmm and with you being so... tall, after all.... " she said, sliding her other hand around to the front, circling the base of him with her fingers. "But you were so bad in those days. So goo--" She gasped, he had pinched her...right there, lightly, but...oh, god. She had to get control. Words....use words until he decided to just give her whatever it was he was waiting to give her...She could wait, she could. The wait would be worthwhile, it always was with Jack and his little games. She sighed resignedly and added, "Every time they'd have one of their fancy parties, you'd have to wait a few minutes before we could go inside."

"Because it wasn't their house I wanted to be inside..." he laughed softly, watching her face soften with the memories. Reached a gentle hand up and began tracing the outline of her mouth, which dropped open obligingly for his finger to stroke the inside of her bottom lip until she reached her tongue out and licked it and then pursing her lips around his finger, sucked it in her mouth. He pulled it out slowly and then sucked it in his own mouth.

Staring at his actions, she continued the memory, "I'd end up leaving our car with some part of my lingerie removed or or my legs clenched together or needing to cross my arms over my chest or at the very least, my lipstick kissed off or or..."

"Mmm, I always preferred seeing your lips all rosy from my kisses," he said, looking down, then up again to give her a heavy-lidded glance that sent spears of need straight to the target. "All rosy and red and swollen as the blood surges to them. So sensitive, you always complained. Are they sensitive now?" he asked, licking them lightly with just the tip of his tongue. As he licked tenderly and nipped gently, her mouth opened and her head tilted back, allowing him to feed her with his mouth. When he made a movement to part their lips, she darted her tongue forward into his mouth and sighed with relief when he played with it, then sucked on it. "Mmm, your mouth, your tongue is so hungry, isn't it?" he asked. She nodded, opened her mouth for him again, licked her lips as he asked, "Hungry for me?"

"God, yes. Only you, only you could do this to me. Make me so hungry. For you..."

"Ah good. Will you...eat me later?"

She licked her lips. "Yes, anything you want, Jack. Anything."

Pulling back slightly, he demanded, "Open your mouth." As always, she thought, he demanded that and she just did it. Why? And then she forgot to ask again as he gave her another kiss, as his tongue entered and stroked hers, as she stroked his in an endless kiss that merged them until she could not tell where his mouth began and hers ended, until she could not tell where his breath began and hers ended, until she could not breathe at all.

He lifted his head and she looked at him dazed, one part of her shocked that in their fifties, after everything, this simple meeting of mouths in a kiss could leave her both more fulfilled and insatiably hungry than the complete sexual act with another man. This, this was why she craved that connection...this was what she wanted, this hunger, this ache, this burn, this n-. And one part of her could care less about understanding the connection, just wanted more and more and more. No, a kiss is not just a kiss, she thought.

"I love your mouth," he said as he licked her lips. Then murmured huskily, "So...wet, so warm, so rosy, so soft, so willing those lips. Hmm, I wonder..." With firm hands he lifted her body up until she was standing before him, looking down at him kneeling before her, perplexed; then her eyes clearing, began to breathe hard. Running his hands up her legs until they rested in the crease of her thighs, he slowly angled them inward until they rested on the outer edges. "I wonder if these lips are as wet, as warm, as rosy, as soft, as willing? As...hungry?" And he opened her up gently and just waited, looking at her, waiting....

She grabbed at his shoulders, sure she would fall down from his words alone. What did he want...Of course. Their little game. When would he say it tonight? Oh, who cared. She just wanted what she wanted. "Jack, please."

And then he sank into her, kissed her, kissed her, until she was writhing, pushing herself into his mouth, moaning, "Jack, your tongue. Now." Staring wide-eyed at him, at his mouth on her flesh, she was unable to look away. Thought idly that he had been right, she would love a picture of his mouth on her, she put one hand in his hair and committed the moment to her memory book. Too bad there was no camera, she'd do this. She had been stupid not to let him take the picture of her waist with the chain. False modesty. Stupid. Who cared when your lover wanted it so much? Like she wanted...oh, yes, the tongue was...good. She smiled to herself, thinking that Jack would say, "Good vocabulary, Ms. English Teacher. 'The tongue was good'?" But it was.

Then he lifted his head and she moaned a protest as he began talking. So chatty tonight! "Shh. Just wanted to ask you...."

She tensed. He smiled. Then kissing her thigh over and over, licking the crease from her hip until it met the curves of her womanhood, he licked his way inward. Watching his tongue flick out and then retreat, she moaned. "What is it? What?"

"Mmm. These lips are just as rosy now as those," he said caressing one set with one hand, and her mouth with the other. She darted her tongue out and licked his fingers, then pulled one in her mouth to suckle on it. "Hmm. Hungry, so hungry, aren't you?"

"Yes, god, Jack..."

"Wait, I have a question." She tensed, fearing, then tensed more but in a different way, feeling her womb clench when she heard what he wanted to know this time. In a husky voice, looking at her with the most incredible heat in his eyes, he asked, "Is this little point, this little tongue like a little flame, isn't it? So hot..." and he flicked his own out, teasing at the edges of her lips, darting inside briefly, just long enough to send a surge of intense heat throughout her body, "Is it as hungry as your tongue was? Does it want? Does it...need? Need my mouth, my fingers...or does it want something else? Something harder? Something that's just as wet, just as needy as it is? As you are?"

She whimpered, felt her knees start to shake. He slid his finger back into her mouth and as she began to suck on it frantically, he thrust his middle finger inside her. Her back arched and she held onto his wrists or else, she was sure she would have fallen down. Falling, she wanted to...

"Tell me, you have to tell me," he murmured, lifting his mouth for a moment, although his finger kept moving inside her, rotating around and around. He pulled his finger out of her mouth, slowly, rubbed her lips with it as his mouth moved back toward her. "Tell me what-"

She interrupted him, eager to just tell him what she wanted. Just one good, hard push with that tongue and...."I want you to--"

"Hmm. First, tell me...this is easy. No big deal, really." In some alternate reality, that is. "I already know that your real option c was for me to come after you, wasn't it?" He probed at her with his tongue and then a finger; her legs shook. He removed his mouth, "Wasn't it?" She nodded, staring at him with wide eyes. He nodded, put his mouth back again and she closed her eyes, feeling a little dizzy from the pleasure, from the heat, from the sound of the water swirling, from her own desires, from her fear, still there, but receding. He knew and he was still touching her, still...damn him, talking! As he asked, his finger took the place of his mouth even as his finger inside her also stroked, "So, this is easy. A one word answer, in fact. How many times did you try to contact me when I didn't come after you?"

"Jack..." She put her hands on his shoulders, tried to pull him into her. He turned his head and licked her hip bone, then moving his head up, suckled in tiny little stinging kisses around her waist. Like a...chain of kisses, she thought, feeling her heart melt, along with the rest of her. He was giving her the chain, even if he didn't know it. Knowing she really didn't want to revisit the option c business, nor the question of how many times she had tried. Which was worse, how many times or...She really just wanted to tell him how many times she wanted to come before time ticked away. He really did not need to know any of that, after all. Then she gasped as his fingers found just the right spots and began thrumming against them in unison.

"Hurry up. I really am in the mood to eat some...honey," he whispered as he kissed his way down over her belly and down, down, making her hold her breath between each kiss, waiting.... "Don't make me wait." He licked her slowly, moving his tongue so carefully she swore she could feel each tiny taste bud on it as it moved over her own little bud. "How" lick, "many" lick, "times?" And then he withdrew his mouth.

"Once, once," she moaned. He moaned too, in pain. You coward, he wanted to scream. He paused for a moment to control the riptide of fury and regret that flooded every vein, every blood cell, every molecule of his body. Nipped at the muscle in her thigh, tense with need, her every muscle practically quivering for release. Good. 
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked, looking up at her. She blinked at him in the dim light of the room, missing the details of his face in the steam from the water, in the steam engine of her own driving needs. What had she....He put his mouth back on her and thrust his finger in and out, in and out. She arched her back, put both hands in his hair, concentrated on not falling down completely as he drove her right to the limits of...yes, oh...Now that hadn't been so bad, answering that question, much better than this endless throbbing that threatened to overwhelm her, as the thud, thud, thud of the blood in her ears, at the side of her neck, in the center of her, in her heart, almost, but not quite, overwhelmed the tick, TICK, TICK that seemed to surround her.

"Just the once? Never again?" Once, she had tried once and then chickened out. Or rather, convinced herself that she didn't need him, need Sydney, that they had no rights to the fulfillment of her promises, that they did not deserve everything. But, no, move it Bristow. Reward her for her answer. He leaned forward and applied his mouth to her again. Positive reinforcement. Sigh. It always worked. He just had to control himself from taking out his anger on her. He'd really like to bite...Wait, she liked that. Doubleplay.

"No...I thought about it so often...My hand would be on the phone and I'd...but it didn't work for the game to...and I didn't want to tell you..." She stopped. She had been so afraid if she told him this truth that he would withdraw from her, but he had just opened his mouth on her, oh...my. He had done that...thing with his teeth on her...She moaned, grabbed at him with her hands, squeezed his shoulder so hard, her short nails digging into him; she was sure he would have bruises tomorrow. Good, good, he would be marked. If he didn't have the ring on, at least he would....And he was letting her, so...she must have been mistaken, must have projected her own fears onto him. Fool to have made assumptions about Jack's responses to anything, she thought with relief. This was going to be okay, he would forgive her, she thought. He understood the game, the needs of the game. He carefully scraped his teeth along the outside of her, feeling her still and shudder, waiting, waiting...He blinked his eyes, trying to see through the rage clouding his vision. Once. Once. Just as he had thought. Something was tickling at the back of his mind, something from many years ago. Or, no, from not long ago, something in a file....from an addendum to a file. What was it.... He ran pages through his mind, then came to a stop. Then thought of a phone conversation...computer records, the ever-so-convenient Echelon mess.. Sh*t.

"Honey," he said in the silkiest voice he could summon to cover the hot coals coating his throat, "Was it nineteen years ago that you tried?" She stared at him and caught in his eyes by his voice, by her own needs, nodded. "Did you get caught? Is that why you were in that prison? You can tell me..." he whispered against her skin. "I know what it's like to feel trapped," he added, moving his hands to her buttocks, squeezing and releasing in time to the flicks of his tongue against her. "Let me help you feel free again. Tell me, just tell me and I'll-" 
"Yes, I got caught."

"Did someone betray you or did you make a mistake? Tell me, it's okay. Mistakes from so long ago...." She shook her head, redefining the word stubborn, he thought, feeling his resolve and his anger harden. His body was already there. But, he'd have to return to that question when he'd softened her up more.

He took her hand in his and brought it to his mouth. Sucking a finger into the warmth of his mouth, then licking it from base to tip until she shivered, he looked up at her. Never breaking eye contact, he kissed her palm, softly, gently, wetly. Then placing her hand over her own curls, he alternated licking her fingers and the wet, soft warmth beneath them. She gasped, her mouth falling open a little as she watched. This was...new. They had been together ten years and he had managed to surprise her? How did he do that?

"What happened? Tell me, you can tell me anything, you know that. Didn't you say earlier that if you told me the truth I'd forgive you?" He lifted his head and nipped his way up her hand, up her arm, nuzzled into the curve of her waist, traced circles with his tongue where her chain had once lain. Putting her hand into his hair, she sighed. Maybe he had destroyed the chain and just did not want to admit the mistake, this might be his way of giving it to her again.

"I realized that my option c had failed for some reason and...." she trailed off, playing with his hair and running her hand across his back and shoulders, wanting to memorize every ridge, every muscle, every inch of his skin. Just in case. Just in case her options failed again. Not that they would but....

Reward her. "Thank you for telling me. See, that wasn't so bad was it?" He opened his mouth and began suckling on that hard little point until he felt the little contractions beginning to throb against his finger, now two fingers, inside her. Stopped. "So you decided to contact me?"

"I...knew I'd made a mistake, knew--" She sucked in a breath as he resumed moving his hand, his fingers and languidly licked and kissed the skin of her pelvis and thighs as she continued, "I thought there might be something wrong when you didn't come after me the way I planned. I...did know you might be so angry at first that you might doubt...that's why I left the photos. My instructor's comments. You were r..."

"That's okay, you don't have to say it. I know." He looked up at her and smiled, hoped to hell it wasn't as grim as he felt. Then she reached out and traced his mouth with her finger and he smiled again, then swiftly opened his lips and sucked her finger inside. "I...oh...Jack, you know I can't think when you do that to my hands." He stopped. "That didn't mean I wanted you to stop,"she laughed weakly. "I thought I was right about what I wanted. Knew I wanted you to be with me, you and Sydney. And you in the game with me, with me. Knew we would be unbeatable together. Like now....Only," she gasped, "Only..." She stopped, unable to speak, only to moan, as his free hand moved upward and began plucking at her nipples, rolling them between his fingers, as his fingers rolled back and forth within her.

"Only what?" he pulled his mouth away.

"I realized that I..., my work, I was in control and with you I wasn't. Not in control of anything. So..."

"Sitting in your cell, you decided what?" He gave a sudden lick to her nipple and she reached up to hold his head to her, but he pulled back, blew on the tightened skin, making her shiver.

"Part of me was afraid that you would distract me, that I would not..."

And you were right. I can distract you, can't I? Just like you distracted me from the truth for ten years with your love. And I need to distract you, right after I fit these little pieces of the puzzle. "You would not be able to play the game you wanted? Or achieve your potential? Both? Hmm. Do you want to achieve your potential right now?"

"Yessss..." He could swear he felt a blood vessel explode in his head even as his mouth kept moving on her, even as he thrust a finger, then two inside her, searching for that spot.

Then, slowly, lingeringly, he stroked his fingers out of her body. Putting both hands on the inside of her thighs, said, "Then open your legs a little wider. Slowly, til I tell you to stop." She did so, balancing herself on his shoulders and then gripping them hard when she sank down slightly in the tub and the warm bubbling water hit her oversensitized skin, her flesh so much hotter even than the water that...She swallowed hard. He smiled up at her. "Stop."

"Jack....what are you doing?" she moaned, as he put his arms on either side of her and rested his hands on the lip of the tub and just looked up at her.

"Looking at you. Remember I like to look up at you, it's quite the view..." He took one hand and brushed the underside of each breast with just the tips of his fingers. She leaned forward hoping to have him touch her nipples and he held his hands in front of them, but did not move. "What do you want? You have to tell me, remember?"

"I want you to do whatever you want." Next time, they'd reverse, she'd give him what he wanted, but for now she didn't want to think, just wanted one last memory of him loving her, giving her...Just in case.... 
"Good choice since that's what I intend to do anyway," he said firmly, licking his lips as his gaze roved over her body, lingering on her chest. "But tell me...."

"Just touch me, touch my nipples. Lick them, suck them, bite them. Jack...stop looking and do it. I need you to touch me, touch me everywhere, don't let me leave this room without having your touch on every inch of my skin..."

"I will. Just not yet." He steadied her with one hand on her hip, when she would have taken a step toward him. Then moved that hand down and stroked her over and over as he began talking. "Don't move. I want to remember you, like this. Beautiful. Your lips all swollen - both sets -- your skin flushed from the steam, from the heat between us. Rosy, all of you so warm and rosy and sweet...."

"Sweet?"

"Sure...like honey," he said in that voice, slowly licking his lips then brought the fingers of that hand to his mouth and sucked them.

"Oh. My. God." She just stared at him, as his tongue came out and he leisurely licked the tip of his middle finger. "How could any one resist you?" She didn't even realize she had spoken aloud, concentrating so hard on just standing up, not throwing herself on top of him...He was made for her. For Her. He was hers. "Moya," she whispered, looking at him.

He leaned back against the seat opposite her and rested his hands on the edge of the tub. Looked and looked at her, every inch of her body felt the scorch of his gaze, that heat. Looked at him, sprawled there against the back of the tub, the muscles in his chest and arms defined in the steam coating them, his legs spread open, his knees capturing her within the span of his long thighs.. She shot a breath of air toward her forehead, trying to cool off. Then she lifted her hair off her neck, needing to cool off, needing to push him to the edge of his control. He grinned at her movement, raised an eyebrow.

"Resist me? Luckily for you, you don't have to, do you? You can just give in to what you want, what you need, can't you? You're my wife....Everything I have is yours...Right? Like this?" Her mouth dropped open as he lowered his hands and began stroking himself.

Her mouth opened but no sound emerged, but a faint groan.

"How did you try?" he asked softly, watching her watch his hand. A phone call would have done the trick, but that would have been too easy, would have involved an explanation, which would have meant she would have had to admit to herself, then him, that she had made a mistake, felt guilty, had needs... To say nothing of what his presence, Sydney's presence, in her life, might have done to her game, to her pursuit of her own obsessions, her own...addiction to the high from solving a puzzle, her own need for control, her own damn stubbornness. Her inability to ask for help, to admit a mistake, to try something new...

"Try what?" she asked absently, staring at his hands. "Jack, it's too bad we don't have a camera or I'd..."

"Oh, but we do."

"WHAT? We do?" She shivered, ran her hands down the sides of her body, feeling everything in her practically, no truly, quivering with excitement. She would ignore that damn TICK. Jack was right, Sloane could wait. The whole world, past, present and future, could wait if she could take those pictures, figure out a way to steal the camera, take it with her. Get what she wanted. Take those memories with her. No one would destroy these images. He watched her hands move, his head lowered and then raised it, raised his eyes to her again. She sighed. That look....

"Sure, I'm always prepared for any eventuality, aren't I? But...how did you try and contact me? Send a picture? You do love your pictures," he noted, forcing a smile, seeing that page in the task force files in his mind's eye.

"No. I sent out feelers, initial ones, but I..." She trailed off as he lifted his head and took her hand in his and then lifted it to his mouth. "I... Tried to find a way, run a game, but I was in too much of a hurry, got sloppy, used Laura Bristow as my alias to make you take notice."

He stilled for a second, feeling one of his worst fears come to life, that her desire for their life together had been so deep that she had used her own name or rather the name she wanted to choose to own, but her awareness of her own needs and her empathy for the needs of others so shallow...Then automatically reminded himself, positive reinforcement.

"Come here," he said.

"Where's the camera?" She asked, not moving an inch.

"You know what, we really don't have the time right now. You should have asked me earlier in the night...."

"I will kill you, Jack."

"I'll look forward to seeing you try. But, if I'm dead, then I can't let you use that camera the next time....so perhaps the classic le petit morte would be--"

"Next time?" She swallowed hard. 
"Sure, the next time we're on an op together. I'll let you take photos. If...."

She rolled her eyes. "If I let you take a photo of my waist with the chain. What is your little fetish with that? Your obsession?"

He shrugged, "We all have our little obsessions. You have Rambaldi. I have the chain or" 1, 2--

"You have the chain? Wait, you'd let me take photos if I let you take one of me with the chain? So that means you have the chain! Where is it?"