The Perfect Weapon Ending 1 Chapter 1001: Part 1 Section 6 of 7
Ending 1 Chapter 1001 Part 1 section 6 of 7
She groaned loudly and moved her body trying to incite him to resume his movements. Still grinning, pressing himself into her but not moving a muscle, he said clearly, “So...That was the slam. But you wanted it all, right? The slam and the squeak? So...” He pulled out of her and vaulted to his feet in one lithe movement. Holding his hand out to her, he said smugly, “You were quite vocal about that last week. Telling me what you wanted, the slam and the squeak? And I want to give it to you.” He looked down at the wetness between her legs, the wetness between his and said softly, “Believe me, I want to give it to you. So...let’s go. Play your game on the glider. Listen to it squeak.”
She shook her head against the carpeted floor and laughed. What else could she do, she thought helplessly, as she surrendered, “You have me.” She extended her hand and he hauled her up against him, no doubt feeling the trembling of her limbs as he supported her weight. They looked at each other and laughed. “This is payback for cleaning up the jewelry, isn’t it?” she asked ruefully. “I should have known that you wouldn’t give in that easy without a plan in mind.”
“Yeah, you should have. I have my patterns too.”
“I was enjoying that in and out pattern you had going there,” she laughed in sheer delight at their game.
“Let’s go, play your game,” he said, kissing her shoulder.
She shivered at the feel of his mouth, then shrugged, pretending reluctance as she said with a martyred tone, “Okay.” Sigh. “We’ll go outside. If you insist.”
“Oh, I insist. After all that squeak is waiting for you,” he said, laughing as he pushed against her insistently. How happy they had been, she remembered, rubbing her arms. How lucky she was to have these memories in her book, she thought looking down at that white sheet, wishing Jack would come out of the bathroom and rip this to shreds. That would be a good memory to take with her when she flew off once again. One last burst of... something, anything other than this dead silence.
Then, then she’d laughed again as she rubbed up against him like a cat, unable to resist the urge to feel, touch him as much as possible, as always, as always enjoying the feel of his desire for her against her skin, proof of their mutual need. At his look of inquiry, explained, “I was just remembering Arvin’s phone call last week and rubbing against you on the couch...and then how you said you’d be packing something....” She rubbed against him and smiled. “Hmm, did you forget to unpack something for me? Have one last gift, perhaps?”
Looking at each other, they rolled their eyes and burst into laughter. “Come here,” he said, with a smile, trying to gather her up even closer. “You were so bad, teasing me like that....”
“But wasn’t that...anticipation what gave you the idea for these?” she asked, resisting him and moving backward and playing with the chains and the hearts, then settling her fingers on her waist chain.
"No."
"What?" she stopped playing with the jewelry and stared at him, surprised.
"No, I'd designed this a while ago, had them for a while. Just waiting for the right time."
"You are so endlessly opportunistic," she said, shaking her head, smiling at the look of smug satisfaction his face that gradually turned to desire once again as he looked at her standing before him. Felt her own body tighten and begin to thrum once again with life as she looked at him, at his long, strong body that was hers, belonged to her alone.
Moya, moya she thought fiercely, wishing she could say it. So engrossed in watching him, looking at him, burning that image of him into her mind, her memory book that she was not aware of time passing or that her fingers were smoothing the chains down over herself, trying to soothe that ache that was growing with each second they looked at each other, as that tether between them tightened ever closer. She stood there, waiting, watching him watch her.
Raising an eyebrow at the movements of her fingers, he finally asked quietly, “So....Where is Miss Modesty tonight, may I ask?”
“She’s on vacation,” she said, still standing there, forcing herself not to cover up, but all too cognizant that all she wore was her favorite necklace, her waist chain and its little chains with the hearts that tickled her every time she moved the slightest little bit. Oh...and those earrings from the first time they had made love, the first time they had told each other how they felt, showed each other. She relaxed, those earrings were her talisman of the innocence of their first time. What she had always wished had truly been her first time. Unconsciously, she touched an earring and sent it swinging.
He gave her a tender smile and when she raised her head, he kissed her mouth taking the cue as he always did. “Well, I do enjoy the fun of teasing her and finding new ways to get her naked. So, I hope she returns,” he said carefully, reassuring her, she knew with a happy sigh, that he liked all aspects of her personality, “Some day. But not tonight?”
“No, not tonight.” Nope, not tonight. Miss Modesty is not helpful for my plans for that glider, she told herself. Be brave. And then she relaxed, Jack would not let anything happen that would harm her or her sense of modesty in any way. He was too protective of her feelings. Sure enough, he gave her a squeeze and then stepped away to grab a robe from a hook in the closet. She smiled as he brought it over to her and asked, “You love seeing me in this robe that you got for me - where was it?”
“Singapore,” he said, as he slid her arms into the red silk with the Asian pattern printed on it. “I love seeing you in red, rather than that white nightgown that looks like a ...I love feeling you in it because it’s almost as smooth and soft as your skin....” he murmured, running his hands over her silk-covered breasts, watching in satisfaction as the peaks hardened under his touch and puckered the silk. He bent down and held his mouth open over a nipple, but did nothing else, making her automatically lift herself toward him. Then groan when he shook his head, and using his nose, slowly nudged the silk aside.
“Jack...” she moaned.
“Mmm, the silk feels lovely, but does not taste as good as you do....” he said and began suckling on her.
She stilled, then shivered. “But....” she gasped as his hand drifted downward from her waist after playing with the chain, stroking along the chains, then playing with one of the hearts, so close...she shifted her legs.
He kissed her skin gently over and over. Then he moved back and stood there looking at her, her nudity framed by the red robe. But, she realized with a sense of dawning wonder that he was concentrating on her face, not her body, looking into her eyes. “You are so beautiful, Laura, do you know that?” he whispered. “With or without the jewelry, I’d always want you, need you. You do know you don’t need the jewelry to make me insane with wanting you?”
How did he know, she wondered, how did he know her fears? That was the wonder of it, she thought, that somehow he knew. She felt her lips tremble and her chin wobble. Then she realized how he knew, when you had an open heart, you could see. With a shaky voice and a tear in her eye, she reached up and touched his face, then his chest. “You do know you don’t need to give me jewelry to show me that you love me?”
He stilled for a second, then said with that rare lop-sided grin that always melted her, “I know, but I like spoiling you.” He kissed her gently. They both sighed when their lips parted. “And I like how you spoil me too.”
“How is that?”
“The house. Especially that bedroom. And how you... are always touching me, especially lately,” he said and looked down.
“Ah, but I don’t have any choice about that,” she said, feeling such tenderness for him that she felt fragile herself. She wasn't sure she liked that feeling, wasn't sure feeling it was particularly safe. But shaking her unease away, forcing it down and using just the tip of a finger, she tipped his chin back up and kissed him before saying. “I need to touch you.”
Where had that word -need- come from she thought feeling slightly panicked. Wrapping her arms around him, she held him close as he held her close.
He whispered, “Me too.” Then rubbing his face along her hair, she could feel him smile before he said, “I know something else you seemed to need. That glider. With a squeak.”
“Well....,” she said with a smile, picking up his cue to lighten the moment, “Maybe I needed the glider you gave me.” Rubbing her thumb across his bottom lip, knowing he was trying to backtrack a little, she smiled and said quickly, “And remember, it all started with that glider. My glider. So, let’s go.” She pulled back, wrapped herself up in the rob and tugged him out of the closet and their bedroom.
“Wait...I think I should get something on. It’s the front porch and-“ he began as they walked downstairs.
“I thought you told Dave that with the screens and the fact that the street lights were so far away, that -“ Oh no, she should not have admitted hearing anything, if he knew she had heard about Dave taking over the screw and skedaddles, if she had to admit to hearing the rest of that conversation, eavesdropping that long.... He would not be amused, might wonder about her tr- No, but Dave was wrong about that. Trust was not really an issue. And she thought, looking out that window in Panama, that conversation with Dave was not an issue she intended to handle right now. Later. Someday. Maybe. Maybe tomorrow.
“Ah, you did hear that, you little sneak! I thought I heard someone gasp behind a door when I said that. Is that when you came out?” He laughed when she nodded. She sighed with relief that she had just dodged a bullet, and then laughed when he gave her a light smack on her silk-covered bottom as she opened the front door. Then slid his hand downward, making her wiggle.
She peeked out onto the street. “All clear,” she said portentously, then giggled. Who would have ever thought she’d be giving the signal to her husband for a little op of their own -- a late night assignation on their own front porch. Too bad they couldn’t work together, she began to think, then clamped her mind down on the thought. Then and now, she thought, squeezing her knee almost painfully. “Wait, it’s awfully dark out there - the street lamp is out.... Jack?”
“Yes.....?” he asked with a smile.
“Did you....?”
“Are you suggesting, perish the thought, that I might have found a way to extinguish a public utility just to have my way with my wife on our front porch?”
“Oh, please, sometimes I think you know no limits. And yes, you would do it if you knew I might be nervous about it. Did you somehow rewire that lamp?”
“Who, me?” He laughed. “It could just be coincidence, you know. Light bulbs do just burn out. Maybe it’s just our good luck.”
“Ha. You don’t believe in luck. You believe in planning and choices---”
“Do you really want to stand here debating my philosophy of life or do you want to live life?” he asked, giving her a push out the door. “And you should really call the city and tell them the light’s out tomorrow.”
“We’ll see how well it goes out here tonight before I do that,” she said in her own best prissy tone and then spoiled it by giggling.
They sat down on the glider and he spread the blankets over them. “You love this glider, don’t you?” he asked, as she snuggled up to him and nudged him to start pushing the glider. “Did you sit out here while I was gone?” he asked, while setting the glider in motion. She sighed with happiness the minute she heard the squeak and saw him look at her speculatively, no doubt wondering what in the world about that sound was so important.
“No,” she said, surprising him. “I was waiting for you to come home so we could...christen it.” He choked, then laughed. She leaned against him, and murmured, “But not right now. Let’s just talk.”
He put his arm around her as she tucked her legs up on the glider, tucked herself into him. He pushed off with his feet and she sighed in sheer bliss as the squeak, squeak began, lying there in her husband’s warm embrace, as he stroked her hair and murmured his love to her. Sitting up, she kissed his nose, then his mouth. Looking up at him, she felt a quiver of fear and quickly looked out on the street, afraid someone might hear, someone might steal the moment. Or worse that some part of her that wasn’t afraid of the question, ‘what if?’ might hear her happiness and try to answer the question. So she whispered, “See, isn’t this nice? Lying here together, just rocking back and forth? Just talking?” And she lay back against him, feeling the steady thum, thum, thum of his heart amidst the squeak, squeak, squeak of the glider. A perfect moment for her memory book, she thought. She had it, she thought with a mix of contentment and triumph in her, felt she would never have to look behind her for it again in a rearview mirror and only see the curve of the road, not the destination.
“Just talking?” he asked with a smile in his voice.
“Well, I admit I’m hoping for some kisses, later on, too,” she said with a smile.
“Mmm, anytime. But why wait?” he asked, and tipped her chin up to meet his face. As his lips met hers, he whispered, “Remember last time, you fell asleep before we could make out on the glider? So let’s not waste a chance...” As she remembered how his mouth had taken hers so slowly, how she had tried to rush, to escalate in her nervousness at what she intended to do on this glider, she thought that Jack had been right when he told her so often to stop worrying, to enjoy the moment. That’s what this last night in Panama had been, hadn’t it, after all? A precious moment, out of time, stolen from the rest of their lives, a play stolen from the game. Isn’t that what those entire ten years had been? Her best theft ever.
That night on the glider, she had allowed him to set the pace, to calm her with gentle hands and a loving mouth and the feeling of tenderness only he had ever conveyed with merely a touch of the lips. How had he known that was what she needed when she had not known it herself. What was it she was feeling? She wondered as she turned into his warmth and nuzzled her face into his chest. Putting one hand on the skin over his heart, she rubbed his chest muscle and murmured, “Beautiful man.” She felt his chuckle under her hand.
“Men aren’t-“
“Shut up, you idiot. You are. You are mine.”
“You’re sweet,” he whispered as he stroked her back.
She turned again, then not able to get comfortable, or rather, just wanting to get closer, assumed one of their favorite positions whether for making love or cuddling. As she straddled his hips, collapsing on his chest, her face in his neck, she asked, “Do we like this way for making love because we also snuggle like this or do we like this way to cuddle because we can make love like this?” Or was she overanalyzing again?
“Does it matter as long as we end up at the desired destination?” He laughed softly and she gasped as she only belatedly realized that he must have read her thoughts. Then sucked in a breath as he moved against her and she realized that she had just snuggled her softness down against something that was getting harder by the moment. He slid one hand between her legs and began playing with the hearts, teasing them, teasing her, she thought, as she struggled to concentrate. Then he slid one hand from her waist to the lapels of her robe and parted them. She shivered as the cool silk slid away, across her nipples that hardened immediately whether from the cooler night air or the look of desire on his face, she neither knew nor cared, but somehow thought that it was just him, always him.
“You are so very lovely,” he whispered, looking at her skin that felt warm just from his gaze, then warmer still as his hand curved up from her chain to her breast and just cupped it gently for a long moment before gently sweeping his thumb across her nipple over and over. She sighed happily. Ha, they would christen this tonight. Her way. He pulled her upright with one hand on her back and bent his head to kiss her nipple. “So sweet,” he murmured against her skin and flicked a tongue out and tasted her.
“No. Not me. Never sweet, just honest,” she said smiling, thinking of her private portfolio hidden upstairs that she had looked at so many times this week while he was gone. She rubbed her face against his hair, as he rubbed his lips against the peak of first one breast then the other, all as he rocked back and forth, squeak, squeak, on the glider, holding her on his lap. She sighed and just lay there against him, enjoying the quietude that she knew she would break shortly. As soon as she gathered up her courage.
Lifting his head from his gentle exploration of her nipples that had been building a slow-burning, almost-gentle fire in her veins, he looked at her closed eyes, she sensed. “Honey, you’re tired, let’s go upstairs...” he suggested after a while. “Didn’t you sleep well while I was gone?”
She grimaced. “I usually don’t, but I don’t want to move. I’m content. Right here.” She melted against him, rested her head against his shoulder, then shifted so that she could kiss his heart, whispered, “Glad, so glad you’re home.”
“Me too. Especially to a homecoming like this one. Thank you,” he whispered into her ear, making her shiver. “Go to sleep if you want. I’ll carry you up later,” he suggested.
“Well, I’m not that sleepy, just content, but you could carry me later. I like that.”
“I’ve noticed,” he said with a smile in his voice. “You like it when I cart you around.”
“Mmmm. And I like the way your muscles bulge when you do that,”she said, absently running her hand around each bicep. Then bending her head, gave a solid bite to one of them, then the other.
“I see,” he said slyly. “Sexual objectification is okay if women do it to men?”
“Absolutely, it’s merely....time to even the score,” she said, giving a nip to his neck while both hands massaged the muscles in his arms.
“Wait, you cannot both say that it’s okay for women to look at men and then get so angry when some woman, or so you say, looks at me-“
She interrupted him, “Let me amend that, make it clear. It’s okay when it’s me doing it to you. No one else.” Why was it that whenever it was to her disadvantage he went straight to the weakness. No, not then did he use elliptical thought, oh no, not then. No, then it was straight logic, which was supposed to be her mode of attack. He was so irritating, she ground her teeth, that he could actually choose to use straight logic, but usually preferred that roundabout method. Or worse, used both. “You are so irritating,” she said aloud, then groaned as his fingers plucked at her hard nipples.
“Gotcha,” he laughed, swinging her earring with one hand. She turned her head quickly and bit his index finger. “Hey, be careful, you might want me to use that finger a little later and it would be a shame, a terrible shame if-“
“Oh, shut up, you idiot,” she growled at him and shut him up by covering his mouth with hers and holding his head in place by curving her hands up through his hair. “Just do what I say for once.”
“Mmm, are we playing that game again?” he asked, tunneling his hands up under the silky robe, to stroke her back, the curves of her rear end. Opening his mouth and allowing her to explore him, she felt him shiver against her and felt a surge of both power and love. He was hers.
Then she felt his hand stroking her head, sifting her hair, combing through it and tilted her head in the direction of his touch. Lifting her lips from his, she sighed in utter relaxation as she laid her head on his broad shoulder, even as her veins thrummed with life and need, as she heard that squeak, squeak and thought, I have it all. Right now, this moment. Everything.
“You look exhausted, Laura, didn’t you sleep well while I was gone?” He touched the shadows under her eyes gently.
Closing her eyes, she rubbed her face against his warm, bare shoulder. “Why do you keep asking about that... But, no.... I don’t sleep well while you’re gone, you know that.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her hair.
“No...that job...is more than a job for you. I understand.”
“But if it’s going to cause you this much worry, it’s not worth it.... Damn, I wish I’d never told you the truth,” he said ruefully.
“What?” she said in surprise, finally understanding that his questioning grew out of his worry and guilt. “I thought you said you were relieved when you told me.” I thought I had truly won, she thought, when you told me, when you trusted me enough to tell me the truth. That’s why Dave is wrong, why there are no trust issues. He told me the truth, she thought fiercely. He chose to tell me the truth. He loves me that much, she nodded to herself, gripped his upper arm in her hand.
“Well, yeah, I didn’t like keeping secrets from you. But there was a cost - all this worrying you do. You were already a worrier and now....I should have kept my mouth shut. My... contentment at including you in my life, my work life, was not worth the price. If I could have a do over---”
“But you can’t. I know. And I’m glad I know. Because if I didn’t know that truth, I wouldn’t really know you, would I?”
But even knowing the truth, she thought suddenly sitting up on that bed in Panama, had not prepared her for the reality of seeing him in action tonight, seeing him as the predator. Why, why had he done that? She knew she had only seen a muted version, seen him only angry on a personal level and wondered just what he was like as a professional opponent. Remembered the words on his profile from thirty years before, ‘cold’, ‘ruthless’, ‘brilliant.’ Remembered the analysis of his strategy, the comments on his ‘multiple modes of attack,’ that he ‘seeks out and exploits every weakness.’
She sat there, waiting. Waiting for him to get over his anger and come out of the bathroom and apologize. Be her Jack again. Not that stranger.
“Would you? I don’t think that’s true,” he said softly, and looked away. She nudged his cheek with her nose and automatically, she knew, he turned toward her and kissed her.
Squeak, squeak...
Squeak, squeak...Ringggg.
“I swear...” she growled. They had just been getting somewhere and he had been the one to admit a truth without any manipulation on her part. Just love and caring.
“Tell me about it, there is no way on God’s green earth that I am answering that damn phone. Again.” But it just kept ringing and ringing and ringing, making her unable to hear the squeak.
“I can’t stand this! Jack - go unplug the phone in the living room! We won’t be able to hear the other ones. And If Arvin complains later, you can always tell him that I unplugged all the phones because we were both so tired. That since all I know is that you work for Jennings, what would be the harm in actually sleeping through one damn night without a phone call?”
“Good plan. And if he comes over here---”
“I will kill him,” she said firmly, making him laugh. How was it, Irina wondered suddenly, that Dave was dead and Arvin alive? And Jack wondered why she had always doubted the existence of any god? “Although it might not be him...it could be someone else....But I doubt it, that man has never had an idea that he didn’t steal from you, a plan he couldn’t devise without your help and---”
“Whatever. Whoever. I’ve got nothing to say to anyone right now but you,” he said, shoving his hand through his hair in aggravation. She lifted herself off of him and stood. He darted into the dark living room and ripped the phone cord out of the wall with one hard jerk. Well, they’d have to replace that piece of equipment, she laughed softly, watching him through the window of their front door. Then jumped back, too quickly as he threw open the door. He grabbed her and hauled her up against him before she could fall. As always, she stared at him, enjoying watching his movements.
Noting his agility, she blurted out, “I’d never want to meet you in a dark alley, you’re so quick on your feet.” He smiled and pulled her back toward the glider. “But a dark back yard was a lot of fun, wasn’t it?” she asked, looping her arms around his neck, feeling the chain against her waist, the more delicate chains and hearts dangling down between her legs, tickling her, reminding her of the ties between them, the ties of desire and need and truth. She needed to find a way to get back on that road to the truths Jack was hiding, she thought as she undulated against him and he groaned.
“Hmm. That game was amazing, as you could tell,” he said lightly, smiling at her. They looked at each other, both grinning, she knew, like fools. But happy fools.
He laughed at nothing, his eyes crinkled around the corners as they looked at her with such warmth and love that she was struck again by the fact that you could give this to someone, this.... His face, she thought, reflected sheer happiness. Her mouth curved, she could tell, into a grin of her own. How....unexpected to give that joy to someone, she thought, as he grabbed her. To have that joy come back to you.
“What is it?” she asked, then squealed as he picked her up and twirled her around in the moonlight, her robe flying around her.
“You look....Are you as happy as you look? As I feel?” he asked, running both hands up and down her back, pulling her closer to him.
“I...How do I look?”
“Ah yes, you don’t have your mirrors, do you?” He asked with an indulgent smile. “It’s good to let go sometimes, isn’t it? Just let go, sometimes, Laura. Stop worrying so much. Let go. And you find what you want, like tonight. Like I did, when I let go. Tonight, you looked...joyful. Did you find...joy tonight?”
“Yes, yes I did. Giving to you, you to me....Upstairs in our bedroom, out here. Especially out back with that little warrior-prisoner game,” she said slyly. “Did you like that as much as I think you did?”
“That game was...fun,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly, but the huge grin he wore spoiled the effect.
“Fun? You bit your own hand, Jack.”
“So, I did. Which was...”
“Amazing. It was the most....That’s what put me over the edge you know,” she said softly, swallowing her discomfort to tell him something he des..., no, needed to know. “Seeing you, so intense. It fed me.”
“I understand,” he said, kissing her. “I do. But...it still was fun.”
“Jack... that was a lot more than fun!” she protested, needing to press the point. Her hands squeezed his shoulders. “I learned so much tonight about you. Like---”
“Oh no, she’s back to wanting to analyze me,” he groaned, although he smiled as he said it.”I thought we were done with that, you hadn’t mentioned it in a while and---”
Yes, she thought, and that had been a huge mistake, becoming complacent. Thinking she knew all there was to know about Jack was...idiotic. “Oh, be quiet. If I weren’t trying to understand you, I would have never come up with that warrior-prisoner game, so...”
“Hmm. And that would have been a terrible shame to have missed that game. I will remember that for the rest of my life,” he said quietly, rubbing his large hands up and down her back. “So.... Good point. Your point.”
She laughed loudly, then clapped her hand over her mouth. In a stage whisper, she said over and over, “I win, I win, I win.” He rolled his eyes, smiled, bent over once again to pick up the blankets and then laughed himself when she pushed him down to the glider. Quickly dropping on top of him, her robe draping off her arms, she laughed again, “I win-“
“You know, you can carry this competitive streak a little far, Laura,” he said, as he wrapped the blankets around her, she knew to protect her modesty, just in case. Jack was always good with the ‘just in cases’ of life.
“Speaking of winning, I claim a forfeit,” she said, smiling, then settled herself more firmly on his lap, making him wince.
“Um, Laura, you need to move a little. C’mon.” He shifted his legs to no avail as she just settled herself more firmly against him. His eyes glinted with sudden amusement as he said, “You’re not a toothpick you know,” he said, then ran his hands over her hips and up to the roundness of her breasts, fuller than they would be many years later. “Thankfully,” he said with a leer.
“Are you saying I’m fat?” she said, putting her hands on her hips in mock indignation.
“Oh, brother. I know what’s coming-“
“And it’s not you, at this rate,” she said smugly. Then carefully settled her body against him, needing to feel his skin against hers, needing to be able to feel his heartbeat, to judge his response. “But I claim a forfeit.”
“Fine,” he said, not being terribly attentive as he played with her waist chain with one hand and the more delicate chains and hearts with the other. “Whatever you want. Do your worst.”
“I am hoping,” she said tentatively, honestly. “That you won’t think it’s my worst when I ask you this question. I hope you understand---”
“What?” he asked, tensing, his fingers stopping all movement and gripping her hips.
“Tonight? Upstairs and then out in the back? What did you think about that? What did it mean to you? Can you, will you tell me?” she asked softly. Winding her fingers up from the back of his neck through his scalp, she massaged him, trying to keep him relaxed, trying to show him with her touch that she loved him. That this was not too scary, because it was just her and she loved him, that he should not have secrets from her.
He said nothing for a long time, then gradually his hands loosened and began to caress her skin, sliding over her hips to pull her closer to him. She rocked back and forth against his hardness, trying to connect with him as he slowly moved his hands to her front, fingers playing with the chain once more and then moving upward to touch her breasts, circling them in smaller and smaller circles. What was he thinking she wondered desperately, wondering if she should press or just wait it out.
Finally he let out a long breath and spoke, his eyes and his tone both cautious and careful. “It was more than fun, more than special, more than making love. It was...illuminating,” he ended very softly.
“Yes, it was. For both of us?” she asked equally softly. “I feel that I know you, the real you...some of you, anyway. That puzzlebox of your mind... Are you....okay?” she inquired, putting her hand on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat. Saying ‘sweetie’ in her mind, ‘sweetie, are you okay?’, wishing she dared to say it aloud, but...this was too dangerous already. She could feel his distress, feel her own need to soothe, feel him struggle to tell her truths, felt her own struggle to keep her truths.
“I...I am trusting you with some of my deepest, darkest secrets, you know,” he said lightly, meeting her eyes, but she could feel his heart race and knew how hard this was for him.
“I know.” She bit her lip. “I love you,” she said, not quite sure what else to say, snuggling into him as they rocked back and forth. Stroking the muscles of his chest and shoulders with her free hand, trailing it down over his abdomen and then stroking him back into hardness again, she kissed him over and over. Then pulling back slightly, whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me what you wanted, Jack?” She felt him stiffen everywhere with both passion and denial. She kept touching him as she asked, feeling his muscles tighten, “With the sari? With...what happened out in the backyard tonight? Why?” She kissed him to relax her and him again, then let out a deep breath as she asked quietly, “Why didn't you tell me? Please answer?”
“I....I was too..” He trailed off. Stopped. Her breath stopped too. Was he actually going to say it? She never would understand why he was so reluctant to admit his shyness, whether it was masculine pride or something else, she mused, as she pleated that white sheet between her fingers. Suddenly, she wondered if Dave had known the reason for Jack’s reticence, then sighed. It was too late to ask. But...No, she was not going to think about that. Just think about that moment on the glider when he had allowed her to see into him, when he had shown her his trust as he struggled again, “I didn’t, couldn’t, didn’t think I could say it because I was...”.
She knew the word, he knew she knew the word. But this time, she would not complete it for him. He had to say it, admit it. He shuddered. Some instinct told her she had just pushed, perhaps too far. She felt her heart pound with anxiety. Felt desperation and fear begin to thrum in her veins, making her cold. Without saying a word, she lifted up and holding him in one hand, she slowly lowered herself onto him, not noticing until too late that his rigidity was everywhere.
She stopped only when he asked tightly, “You are not using sex as a weapon are you?”
“No!” She exclaimed, aghast at the notion, only much later understanding the irony. That she had been sent there precisely to use her body, her sexuality as a weapon to imprison her enemy and instead had found her heart captured by love.. That she was trying to show him, demonstrate her love with her body and he thought it was a weapon. That she, known for her courage, had just made a mistake out of fear. In desperation she tried the truth. “I’m using love as a weapon to find you, to find us, to break down the walls between us.” Touched the middle diamond on her necklace. “Don’t you know? Can’t you feel it? The connection that...goes beyond the physical?”
She kissed him deeply, putting all of her emotions into her movements. He pulled back and sighed, rested his head against her shoulder. Turning his head, he kissed her necklace, then the skin around it. “I know. I’m sorry, truly sorry I said that. I---”
“It’s okay, Jack. You feel like I’m attacking you, cornering you and it’s never wise to do that to you. I should have known better. And...doing that, taking you inside me was probably a bad move on my part when you’re upset, I was just trying to show you, the best way I could imagine, that I love you, want to be connected with you.....”
Yes, that had been a bad move, Laura, especially since she knew how he had used sex as a weapon before he met her. Projection, it was called projection, she told herself, but cursed that she could not say, could not sympathize without telling him the truth, admitting that she knew that particular truth about him. Wondered when he would tell her that truth, what it would take to have him reveal that, wondered if he felt shamed by that behavior, if he thought of it as whoring now too. Wanted to ask, to talk, to tell, to sympathize, but....
How odd, she thought, how ironic, that here I am demanding truths from him when.... But, there was no point to that. And after all, he knew the important truth, the emotional truths. That she loved him and always would. “I startled you and I probably should have stayed on my side of the glider.”
“Never!” he protested with a soft smile and pulled her up against him. They both sighed when their skin touched everywhere. She felt her every muscle relax when he traced one of his circular patterns on her back and resumed rocking the glider back and forth, squeak, squeak, squeak.
She reached up and bit his bottom lip, then sucked it into her mouth. Moving her body against his, clutching his shoulders with her hands, undulating her body against him, trying to feel every bit of him she could, she tightened her inner muscles around him too as she said fiercely, “We are connected. We are always connected. Will always be. And there’s nothing so scary that you cannot tell me. Remember? It works both ways.”
He nodded.
“So, why didn’t you tell me?” she asked very softly, now not moving her body, not moving anything at all for once. Just waited, waiting as he did all the time for her. All she heard was the squeak, squeak, as he kept the glider moving. Soothing him or her, she wondered. Finally, she felt him heave a deep sigh. Felt him come to a decision, which she had always found odd. He trusted her, so why had he made a choice that night? Was there some other choice? Perhaps...she should have asked Dave, afterward, he would have told her if she’d asked. What if she’d....No.
“I was too sh---” he swallowed and looked at her carefully. “Shy. I was too shy to admit what I wanted.”
She kissed him, for positive reinforcement. Startled him, she knew as she felt the tension in his body and his lips. Kissed him until he kissed her back. Then she said softly, with no laughter, no teasing this time about his shyness, just with love, “Which was what, exactly?”
“I...don’t want....” His hands tightened on her chain, tugging her toward him.
“Yes?” she asked, resuming her movements on him slowly, resting her hands on his shoulders for balance as he kept the glider moving, squeak, squeak.
“I don’t want to always have to be the one in complete control,” he blurted out. “Directing us, the game between us. I...So, thank you. For tonight, for being brave enough to give me what I wanted, to share the control, to give me that moment. That freedom.” He buried his face in her hair and his hands tightened on her back, before sliding down to sneak under her robe to cup her butt and pull her up closer to him.
She gasped, tightened her legs around his hips, then asked, “It was a moment for me too. You do know that, don’t you? That in giving you that moment, I was lucky enough to receive...truths myself. That I could be, wanted to be, was,what you saw in me, saw me more clearly than I saw myself until that moment? One of those circles of yours. Those continuums you talk about.”
He nodded and relaxed, began playing with the hearts again. She sighed in relief. The worst was over. But still cautious, she asked carefully, “Why didn’t you...why were you shy of telling me? I’m your wife.”
“I was...afraid.” She stilled. Jack, afraid of something? Dave.... No, no, she shook her head, then and now, she wouldn’t think of that right now. Focus, Irina.
“Afraid of what?”
“Afraid you might think it was...stupid or weird or...oh, I don’t know. I don’t know. I just...”
“Jack. Stop. I...” Then injecting a teasing note in her voice, she said, “Even if it what you want was weird or stupid, Eek!” She shrieked when he gave her butt a pinch, then giggled. “Oh, so what? It’s me, Laura. Your wife. Who loves you more than anything. So, be who you are with me. I will always love you. Will never-“ she stilled as a thought occurred. His father abandoning them.... Honestly, if that father of his was still alive somewhere, she would take great pleasure in killing him herself. Slowly. Painfully.
She nodded, opened her mouth to begin the discussion and then stopped. He would not welcome it. It was a painful truth. She knew about painful truths, knew that the best way to deal with them was to avoid them if at all possible. She could press, she thought, but...if he told her those painful truths... the other problem was that she might have to...he might see painful truths in her own eyes.
TBC at Chapter 1001 Part 1 section 7