Shadow Of Pleasure Part 4 - Jack/Grace Fanfiction
Title: Shadow of Pleasure
Author: M. Elizabeth Ravensblood
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Grace with implied Jack/Samantha
Summary: Pre-series. While attending the National Forensics Conference, Grace runs into her friend Jack, a successful thriller author who unknown to her derives his ingenious plots from his exploits as serial killer Jack-Of-All-Trades. Upset over her husband's infidelity, Grace decides to even the score and soon she takes the first step into Jack's world...
Author's Notes: Shadow of Pleasure is the first story in a series called, Gods and Shadows which will be Jack/Grace in parts and ultimately Jack/Samantha. This first tale which focuses on Jack/Grace is for my lovely friend, velvetwhip. This is part four of Shadow of Pleasure. Previous parts can be found: Part 1, Part 2 & Part 3. The story is cross-posted at profiler_fans. Due to length this will probably be posted in at least four parts. Due to length, there are several more parts to come.
This part makes references to two quotes, here they are in their original form with the person they're attributed to:
A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine and becoming viands. - Lord Byron
Love is a narcissism shared by two. - Rita Mae Brown
Grace watched as the men efficiently sat up a table with a long white cloth and brought in a pair of chairs. With military precision the staff brought in silver covered serving dishes and sat them on the bar and placed china and flatware on the table. A candelabra was brought in and lit on the table as a freestanding champagne bucket was placed nearby with a bottle peering out. Several arrangements of crimson roses were brought in and placed around the room and Grace looked at Jack with a mixture of hesitation and hopefullness. The staff filed out as one last staff member handed Jack a large basket of rose petals with a single rose on top.
Shutting the the door, Jack shook his head and apologized, "I'm sorry, Grace. I told them I wanted them I wanted dinner for two and I guess they assumed I wanted the same arrangements I had that last time."
Standing up and moving towards him, she was slightly disappointed the romantic display wasn't intentional but curious, she inquired, "Is this the seduction routine you use on your blonde of the moment?"
"Not so much a routine as my personal preference."
Moving towards the table where Jack stood holding a chair for her, Grace commented, "Now I know where Mack gets his romantic streak from."
Grace sat down and let Jack push her chair in. The gesture was old fashioned and she knew some of her friends would be disturbed by the sexist quality of letting a man push her chair in; but there was an innocent charm to Jack's gallantries that made them impossible to resist. As he pushed her chair in, Grace glanced up at him and wished he would lean down and kiss her. If she dared, she would have reached up and pulled his lips to hers, but she didn't have the courage, afraid he would reject her. A moment later Jack moved to the champagne bottle and she watched as he removed the cork with practiced ease.
"I hadn't requested it, but it seems a shame to waste it," Jack told her, his hand poised over the glass in front of her. "Or would you like me to make you another screaming-"
"Champagne sounds wonderful," Grace cut him off.
"Excellent," Jack said and poured a glass for her. "A woman should never be seen drinking unless it be Champagne, the only truly feminine and becoming viand."
"Good, I was worried about being feminine and becoming," Grace countered dryly.
Pouring a glass for himself, Jack laughed, "I was paraphrasing Byron."
Of course he was quoting Byron, Grace thought wryly. Even when he wasn't trying, Jack seemed to exude the romantic. Playfully she asked, "Is poetry a personal preference of yours or a seduction routine?"
Taking a sip of champagne, Jack gave her a wicked grin and answered, "Depends on the woman I'm with."
"Oh really?"
"Certainly," he told her and sat his glass down. Picking up her plate he moved to the bar and began to serve her. "Alexandra inspires the poetic in Mack."
Noting he'd switched to using Alexandra and Mack rather than himself and Samantha, Grace tried to turn him to safer territory and asked, "And when it's not Alexandra?"
Jack returned to the table and sat Grace's plate in front of her. He purred seductively, "A little iambic pentameter never hurt anyone."
It may not normally hurt anyone, but it sounded dangerous coming from Jack's mouth, Grace decided as he took his plate and returned to the bar. There was a seductive quality about Jack that made her pulse speed up even though she knew he wasn't trying to seduce her. Considering the effect he was having on her unintentionally, few women would be able to resist his charms if he actually tried to captivate them. Once more, Grace couldn't help wondering how Samantha had resisted Jack. Although she never had considered acting on it before, she had been attracted to Jack for quite a while. Every time she needed something to push her over the edge during sex with Morgan, thinking about Jack was all it took. Looking at her plate blankly, Grace blushed as Jack returned to the table and sat across from her.
"It's not to your liking."
Raising her head, Grace smiled and said, "It's fine."
"I shouldn't have taken the liberty of ordering for us. Please, tell me what you would like and I'll order anything you wish."
"I was just thinking," she assured him. Given the assortment of dishes he'd loaded onto her plate she would be hard pressed to find any fault, save the impact it would have on her waist. Aware his eyes were on her, Grace took a bite of lobster ravioli in cream sauce. It was delicious. There goes the diet, she mentally grumbled.
Satisfied she was eating, Jack took another sip of champagne and inquired, "How is it?"
"Too good," Grace informed him. Taking a drink from the stemmed glass she added, "This is too."
"Nonsense," Jack told her and refilled her glass. "I thought the plan was to get drunk tonight."
"It's far too expensive a way to get intoxicated."
"Money is of little good sitting in a vault. Far better to put it to use and enjoy," he said draining his glass and pouring another.
"Haven't you ever heard of the saying too much of a good thing?"
"It was never intended to apply to love, sex or champagne."
Grace resumed eating to avoid speaking for a few minutes as her mind supplied several blushworthy images. She could all too easily imagine alternating sipping the icy liquid with heated kisses. What would it be like to taste champagne from Jack's lips and to feel his cooled mouth moving over her body? As she imagined his mouth working it's way downwards, the tension in her body increased. Grace stifled a gasp as she imagined the feeling of Jack's mouth moving between her thighs after taking a drink, the cold sensation of his tongue pushing into her heated sex. Picking up her glass, Grace drank the contents in an effort to cool down. It was far too early in the evening to be so aroused and maintain the illusion she was fine.
"Told, you so," Jack teased and refilled her glass. "I think we're going to need a few more bottles for the evening."
Vainly she tried to protest as he stood up and went to the phone. After ordering half a dozen bottles, Jack returned to the table and said, "Now we'll have plenty for tonight. Possibly enough to whip up Mimosas in the morning."
"Why stop at a mere six? Why not get a full nebuchadnezzar?" Grace joked.
"Because then we'd need to keep half a dozen staff members in the room to pour for us. Too many green people to have an enjoyable discussion about dismemberment and body disposal in front of. Besides, when it comes to oversized bottles of alcohol, I think I'll learn from the mistakes of others. Saman- Alexandra's in-laws had the most impressive disaster at their anniversary party that I've included in the new book."
His tone was filled with amusement and she decided it was safe to ask. "What happened?"
"Burt's parents are about to celebrate their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. It's not enough to have a party, Ellen wants it to outshine Burt and Alexandra's wedding and be the social event of the year. So she insists her husband dip into their savings to pay not only for a lavish affair but to have a champagne fountain that was over ten feet high and to have it poured from a Solomon."
"Solomon?"
"It's a couple sizes up from the Nebuchadnezzar. Only the house of Drappier manufactures them any more. They charge a fortune for a very indifferent product if you ask me," Jack explained before resuming his story. "So the party comes along and the hotel staff are standing on a platform struggling to lift the bottle and pour when it slips and the bottle and all twelve hundred glasses crashed to the floor. Burt was standing with his parents because Ellen insisted he toast them and all three were soaked."
Grace laughed at the image Jack painted and giggled, "What about Alexandra?"
"Mack had left a body for her to investigate so she wouldn't have to attend. Although after he found out what happened, he procured a copy of the videocassette from the party and sent it to Alexandra with a note that read: Age doesn't mean the wisdom of Solomon, Alex."
"And did she react with her usual horror?"
"No," Jack grinned. "She watched it, laughed, and lit a cigarette before hiding it away from Burt."
"She kept it?"
"It's not the first gift Mack's sent that she's held onto. Hmm, seems someone hasn't read the last couple of books."
"I don't have a photographic memory," Grace protested and blushed.
"Relax, Grace. Each time Alexandra holds onto an offering of Mack's, I made it very subtle so that when she falls into his world people will have a reason to re-read and find new meaning in the previous books."
"The wisdom of Solomon," she teased. "Why do they give the bottles biblical names anyway?"
"No one is sure," Jack told her. "But I suppose it could be because life's greatest pleasures can be an almost religious experience. Both passion and champagne are-"
He stopped as there was a knock at the door and excused himself to answer it. Jack opened the door and staff brought in several more bottles. They placed all of the bottles in the refrigerator except for one which was in a silver champagne bucket they placed on the coffee table. After they left, Jack poured the last of the open bottle into Grace's glass.
"Would you like anything else to eat?" Jack inquired as he stood beside her.
Sitting eye level with his pelvis as he asked, Grace bit back the answer which came to her lips and shook her head. Jack picked up his glass and lead her over to the sofa. Her breathing was erratic as her mind and eyes strayed to Jack once more.
********************
As they sat on the sofa, Jack brought the conversation around to work and had several questions for Grace. Answering questions about death was far from intimate and she felt slightly more in control of herself as they polished off the second bottle of champagne. Jack was matching her glass for glass and it seemed to disappear quickly. He went to get another bottle and Grace watched him as he walked to the bar. Front and back, he was good looking, she mused as he bent over and his pants contoured tightly against his backside. The alcohol's effects washing over her, Grace giggled to herself as she tried to imagine Morgan running around without underwear. It was amazing how something could make one man impossibly sex and another utterly ridiculous.
Jack returned with both the champagne bottle and a bottle of Jack Daniels. After opening the champagne and refreshing both of their glasses, he filled his glass from earlier in the evening with whiskey and said, "Since you have a head start on me getting drunk, I thought I should try and catch up."
"I am not drunk," she informed him primly, then ruined the effect by laughing. "Okay so maybe a little buzzed. But it was your idea."
Downing the whiskey, Jack lit a cigarette and commented, "I think we deserve a little down time after all we've been though. Especially you, I'm used to Samantha's antics but your husband-"
"Morgan is a bastard," Grace informed him and took a sip from her glass.
"That he is," Jack agreed and drank from the stemmed glass. Filling the short tumbler with more whiskey he drained it once more and extinguished his cigarette before he drawled, "Question is, what are you going to do about it?"
"Do? What can I do? I either forgive him or divorce him. I can't go on forever being married and not sleeping with him."
"I suppose not. When did he cheat on you?"
"Five months ago that he did it, although I've only known for the past three," Grace explained and drank the rest of her glass.
Jack moved to refill her glass once more. His movements were still fluid and graceful, but there was a glossy sheen to his eyes and his pupils were slightly dilated. Not drunk but he was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, she decided. Not that she wasn't rapidly approaching drunk she mused and giggled once more at the thought. As he lit another cigarette, she stared at his lips as they curled around it as he inhaled. When he exhaled, he grinned at her and she noticed his teeth. Even and white, considering how much he smoked, he had to have an impressive oral hygiene routine. For the first time, she really stared at the small goatee which clung beneath his lower lip. What was it they called them back in the 70's? A soul patch. That was it, Grace recalled. Would it tickle if he kissed her? What other places would the small patch of hair tickle if he kissed her elsewhere?
"What's wrong?" Jack asked.
"Huh?"
"You were staring."
Turning red, Grace tried desperately to think of a reason she could be staring at him. Finally inspiration struck and she replied, "It's your tie."
"What's wrong with it?" he inquired, looking at it to see what the problem was.
Emboldened by alcohol, Grace reached out and started to unfasten it as she said, "You can't wear a tie while you get drunk."
"I most certainly can. And often do, thank you," Jack informed her. "But by all means, take my tie off."
"Thank you, I intend to," Grace told him as she pulled the offending item off. Her fingers were itching to undo his shirt buttons as well.
"Take off anything you like," Jack teased. "Far be it from me to tell a woman she can't take my clothes off."
Although she wanted to take him up on his teasing offer, Grace settled for undoing two buttons and picking up her glass. She needed the drink to steady her nerves. As she unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt his finger had brushed his skin and it had an unsettling effect on her. Soft skin over taught muscles that made her ache to explore further. Once more Morgan rose up in her mind in an unfavorable comparison. Her husband had abundant salt and pepper hair on both his chest and his back. From the smooth texture of Jack's chest she suspected his back wasn't covered in graying hair.
"He's not even good looking," Grace grumbled to herself as she thought of her husband.
"Who?"
"Morgan. He's not even good looking. I have no idea what that woman saw in him. I showed you his picture, you didn't think he was very impressive looking, did you?"
"How would I know," Jack shrugged and drank his champagne. "Men aren't really my thing."
"Only every slim blonde female that crosses your path."
"If a lady of the right sort wishes my company, why shouldn't I? Mack hardly lacks for companionship as he waits for his ladylove."
"So neither should you, huh?" Grace countered. "So what does Alexandra think of Mack's parade of blondes?"
A sinful expression crossed his face as he drawled, "Samantha probably thinks I'm a narcissist."
"And are you?" she inquired in amusement both at his words and the fact Jack was mixing his characters' names with his and Samantha's once more.
Finishing off his glass and refilling both stemmed glasses, he replied, "Of course. But then so is she which really makes us er them the perfect couple when you think about it."
"Both of you being narcissists makes you the perfect couple, " Grace echoed.
"Love is a narcissism shared by two," Jack quoted. "Truer words were never written. Alexandra and Mack are perfect for one another because they both are narcissistic. For all that Alexandra gives lipservice to caring about her husband and Zoe, she spends every moment working on Mack's case. Most new mothers fuss over their babies, but Sa- Alexandra? She took Mack's case file to the hospital to read after the delivery and didn't nurse Zoe so she could return to work before her maternity leave was up. Even motherhood didn't sway her from Mack's case. And it's not because she cares about stopping him, it's because she's fascinated by him. Alexandra is obsessed with Mack to the point that nothing and no one in her life hold her interest or have the power over her that he does. Mack is a puzzle to her, the one enigma she can't figure out and her ego demands she understand him."
"And Mack?"
"Mack is more enlightened than Alexandra, in that he has exerted the power over life and death. His fascination with Alexandra may have started as an enigma he had to solve, but then he finally found the answer and his love for Alexandra demands she move to the next level with him. So while he's waiting for her to understand what he has to offer her, Mack creates displays of death to enchant and guide her into his world."
"And it's the shared obsession that binds them?" Grace hesitated as he drained another glass of champagne. It was fascinating to hear about his characters but she understood they ran in close parallel to Jack's life and didn't want to offend him.
"Exactly. Center your life around someone and follow their every move, eventually the only possible way to find peace is together. Alexandra depends on Mack's stalking and attention, it's like a drug to her. At the same time, Mack needs Alexandra to be a witness to his killing because he depends on her attention. They may temporarily be on opposite sides of the law but essentially it's two egos that exist almost solely to support and build each other up. When the day comes that Alexandra joins him, they'll be in perfect synchronization. An unending yin and yang of ego, love and violence in one glorious package, so that when they kill together it's love expressed in it's purest form."
As Jack topped her glass off once more and poured another for himself, Grace mulled over his words. She wasn't at her best from all the champagne but she still could see where the obsession between the two characters fed their egos and served as an unending cycle. From the passion in Jack's voice, she was sure that at least a part of it rang true in his relationship with Samantha. Certainly not the killing part, but clearly Jack and Mack were intimately linked. Maybe one day she would ask where the writer stopped and the character began, but not now, Grace decided.
"So what happens in the mean time?"
"In the meantime, Mack will continue to enjoy the company of attractive blondes until Alexandra sees the light," Jack told her and polished off another glass of champagne.
"That leaves me out, then," Grace sighed under her breath as Jack refilled his glass.
"Grace, you shouldn't put yourself down," Jack chided gently.
"Why not? Clearly I'm lacking if someone like Morgan cheated on me."
"Morgan is a fool."
"Maybe," Grace replied, her voice full of doubt.
Jack brushed her hair back from her face as he commented, "I think you look lovely."
"Morgan didn't like my hair," she dismissed his remark.
Suddenly Jack's hand was under her chin and he lifted her face to meet his gaze. "I'm not Morgan."
Her breath coming in shallow pants, Grace agreed, "No, you're not."
"You're-" Jack trailed off. His eyes moved over her and he said in a husky tone, "You really look lovely Grace. Truly, you're-"
Grace's breath caught as Jack stopped speaking. His eyes locked with hers for a moment, then fluttered closed as he covered her mouth with his. As his arms wrapped around her, she sank eagerly into his embrace. Opening her mouth to his, she gasped against the sweet invasion of his tongue. Although Morgan has kissed her thousands of times, nothing could have prepared her for expertise with which Jack's mouth explored and teased. Intoxicating and sensual, one kiss slid into another. One hand skimmed over her silky blouse and rested just under her breast, the closeness causing her nipple to harden and cry out eagerly for his touch. Never had she felt more alive or aware of her body's response than she was at that moment. Grace returned his kisses eagerly and hoped the moment would never end.
Author: M. Elizabeth Ravensblood
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Grace with implied Jack/Samantha
Summary: Pre-series. While attending the National Forensics Conference, Grace runs into her friend Jack, a successful thriller author who unknown to her derives his ingenious plots from his exploits as serial killer Jack-Of-All-Trades. Upset over her husband's infidelity, Grace decides to even the score and soon she takes the first step into Jack's world...
Author's Notes: Shadow of Pleasure is the first story in a series called, Gods and Shadows which will be Jack/Grace in parts and ultimately Jack/Samantha. This first tale which focuses on Jack/Grace is for my lovely friend, velvetwhip. This is part four of Shadow of Pleasure. Previous parts can be found: Part 1, Part 2 & Part 3. The story is cross-posted at profiler_fans. Due to length this will probably be posted in at least four parts. Due to length, there are several more parts to come.
This part makes references to two quotes, here they are in their original form with the person they're attributed to:
A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine and becoming viands. - Lord Byron
Love is a narcissism shared by two. - Rita Mae Brown
Grace watched as the men efficiently sat up a table with a long white cloth and brought in a pair of chairs. With military precision the staff brought in silver covered serving dishes and sat them on the bar and placed china and flatware on the table. A candelabra was brought in and lit on the table as a freestanding champagne bucket was placed nearby with a bottle peering out. Several arrangements of crimson roses were brought in and placed around the room and Grace looked at Jack with a mixture of hesitation and hopefullness. The staff filed out as one last staff member handed Jack a large basket of rose petals with a single rose on top.
Shutting the the door, Jack shook his head and apologized, "I'm sorry, Grace. I told them I wanted them I wanted dinner for two and I guess they assumed I wanted the same arrangements I had that last time."
Standing up and moving towards him, she was slightly disappointed the romantic display wasn't intentional but curious, she inquired, "Is this the seduction routine you use on your blonde of the moment?"
"Not so much a routine as my personal preference."
Moving towards the table where Jack stood holding a chair for her, Grace commented, "Now I know where Mack gets his romantic streak from."
Grace sat down and let Jack push her chair in. The gesture was old fashioned and she knew some of her friends would be disturbed by the sexist quality of letting a man push her chair in; but there was an innocent charm to Jack's gallantries that made them impossible to resist. As he pushed her chair in, Grace glanced up at him and wished he would lean down and kiss her. If she dared, she would have reached up and pulled his lips to hers, but she didn't have the courage, afraid he would reject her. A moment later Jack moved to the champagne bottle and she watched as he removed the cork with practiced ease.
"I hadn't requested it, but it seems a shame to waste it," Jack told her, his hand poised over the glass in front of her. "Or would you like me to make you another screaming-"
"Champagne sounds wonderful," Grace cut him off.
"Excellent," Jack said and poured a glass for her. "A woman should never be seen drinking unless it be Champagne, the only truly feminine and becoming viand."
"Good, I was worried about being feminine and becoming," Grace countered dryly.
Pouring a glass for himself, Jack laughed, "I was paraphrasing Byron."
Of course he was quoting Byron, Grace thought wryly. Even when he wasn't trying, Jack seemed to exude the romantic. Playfully she asked, "Is poetry a personal preference of yours or a seduction routine?"
Taking a sip of champagne, Jack gave her a wicked grin and answered, "Depends on the woman I'm with."
"Oh really?"
"Certainly," he told her and sat his glass down. Picking up her plate he moved to the bar and began to serve her. "Alexandra inspires the poetic in Mack."
Noting he'd switched to using Alexandra and Mack rather than himself and Samantha, Grace tried to turn him to safer territory and asked, "And when it's not Alexandra?"
Jack returned to the table and sat Grace's plate in front of her. He purred seductively, "A little iambic pentameter never hurt anyone."
It may not normally hurt anyone, but it sounded dangerous coming from Jack's mouth, Grace decided as he took his plate and returned to the bar. There was a seductive quality about Jack that made her pulse speed up even though she knew he wasn't trying to seduce her. Considering the effect he was having on her unintentionally, few women would be able to resist his charms if he actually tried to captivate them. Once more, Grace couldn't help wondering how Samantha had resisted Jack. Although she never had considered acting on it before, she had been attracted to Jack for quite a while. Every time she needed something to push her over the edge during sex with Morgan, thinking about Jack was all it took. Looking at her plate blankly, Grace blushed as Jack returned to the table and sat across from her.
"It's not to your liking."
Raising her head, Grace smiled and said, "It's fine."
"I shouldn't have taken the liberty of ordering for us. Please, tell me what you would like and I'll order anything you wish."
"I was just thinking," she assured him. Given the assortment of dishes he'd loaded onto her plate she would be hard pressed to find any fault, save the impact it would have on her waist. Aware his eyes were on her, Grace took a bite of lobster ravioli in cream sauce. It was delicious. There goes the diet, she mentally grumbled.
Satisfied she was eating, Jack took another sip of champagne and inquired, "How is it?"
"Too good," Grace informed him. Taking a drink from the stemmed glass she added, "This is too."
"Nonsense," Jack told her and refilled her glass. "I thought the plan was to get drunk tonight."
"It's far too expensive a way to get intoxicated."
"Money is of little good sitting in a vault. Far better to put it to use and enjoy," he said draining his glass and pouring another.
"Haven't you ever heard of the saying too much of a good thing?"
"It was never intended to apply to love, sex or champagne."
Grace resumed eating to avoid speaking for a few minutes as her mind supplied several blushworthy images. She could all too easily imagine alternating sipping the icy liquid with heated kisses. What would it be like to taste champagne from Jack's lips and to feel his cooled mouth moving over her body? As she imagined his mouth working it's way downwards, the tension in her body increased. Grace stifled a gasp as she imagined the feeling of Jack's mouth moving between her thighs after taking a drink, the cold sensation of his tongue pushing into her heated sex. Picking up her glass, Grace drank the contents in an effort to cool down. It was far too early in the evening to be so aroused and maintain the illusion she was fine.
"Told, you so," Jack teased and refilled her glass. "I think we're going to need a few more bottles for the evening."
Vainly she tried to protest as he stood up and went to the phone. After ordering half a dozen bottles, Jack returned to the table and said, "Now we'll have plenty for tonight. Possibly enough to whip up Mimosas in the morning."
"Why stop at a mere six? Why not get a full nebuchadnezzar?" Grace joked.
"Because then we'd need to keep half a dozen staff members in the room to pour for us. Too many green people to have an enjoyable discussion about dismemberment and body disposal in front of. Besides, when it comes to oversized bottles of alcohol, I think I'll learn from the mistakes of others. Saman- Alexandra's in-laws had the most impressive disaster at their anniversary party that I've included in the new book."
His tone was filled with amusement and she decided it was safe to ask. "What happened?"
"Burt's parents are about to celebrate their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. It's not enough to have a party, Ellen wants it to outshine Burt and Alexandra's wedding and be the social event of the year. So she insists her husband dip into their savings to pay not only for a lavish affair but to have a champagne fountain that was over ten feet high and to have it poured from a Solomon."
"Solomon?"
"It's a couple sizes up from the Nebuchadnezzar. Only the house of Drappier manufactures them any more. They charge a fortune for a very indifferent product if you ask me," Jack explained before resuming his story. "So the party comes along and the hotel staff are standing on a platform struggling to lift the bottle and pour when it slips and the bottle and all twelve hundred glasses crashed to the floor. Burt was standing with his parents because Ellen insisted he toast them and all three were soaked."
Grace laughed at the image Jack painted and giggled, "What about Alexandra?"
"Mack had left a body for her to investigate so she wouldn't have to attend. Although after he found out what happened, he procured a copy of the videocassette from the party and sent it to Alexandra with a note that read: Age doesn't mean the wisdom of Solomon, Alex."
"And did she react with her usual horror?"
"No," Jack grinned. "She watched it, laughed, and lit a cigarette before hiding it away from Burt."
"She kept it?"
"It's not the first gift Mack's sent that she's held onto. Hmm, seems someone hasn't read the last couple of books."
"I don't have a photographic memory," Grace protested and blushed.
"Relax, Grace. Each time Alexandra holds onto an offering of Mack's, I made it very subtle so that when she falls into his world people will have a reason to re-read and find new meaning in the previous books."
"The wisdom of Solomon," she teased. "Why do they give the bottles biblical names anyway?"
"No one is sure," Jack told her. "But I suppose it could be because life's greatest pleasures can be an almost religious experience. Both passion and champagne are-"
He stopped as there was a knock at the door and excused himself to answer it. Jack opened the door and staff brought in several more bottles. They placed all of the bottles in the refrigerator except for one which was in a silver champagne bucket they placed on the coffee table. After they left, Jack poured the last of the open bottle into Grace's glass.
"Would you like anything else to eat?" Jack inquired as he stood beside her.
Sitting eye level with his pelvis as he asked, Grace bit back the answer which came to her lips and shook her head. Jack picked up his glass and lead her over to the sofa. Her breathing was erratic as her mind and eyes strayed to Jack once more.
********************
As they sat on the sofa, Jack brought the conversation around to work and had several questions for Grace. Answering questions about death was far from intimate and she felt slightly more in control of herself as they polished off the second bottle of champagne. Jack was matching her glass for glass and it seemed to disappear quickly. He went to get another bottle and Grace watched him as he walked to the bar. Front and back, he was good looking, she mused as he bent over and his pants contoured tightly against his backside. The alcohol's effects washing over her, Grace giggled to herself as she tried to imagine Morgan running around without underwear. It was amazing how something could make one man impossibly sex and another utterly ridiculous.
Jack returned with both the champagne bottle and a bottle of Jack Daniels. After opening the champagne and refreshing both of their glasses, he filled his glass from earlier in the evening with whiskey and said, "Since you have a head start on me getting drunk, I thought I should try and catch up."
"I am not drunk," she informed him primly, then ruined the effect by laughing. "Okay so maybe a little buzzed. But it was your idea."
Downing the whiskey, Jack lit a cigarette and commented, "I think we deserve a little down time after all we've been though. Especially you, I'm used to Samantha's antics but your husband-"
"Morgan is a bastard," Grace informed him and took a sip from her glass.
"That he is," Jack agreed and drank from the stemmed glass. Filling the short tumbler with more whiskey he drained it once more and extinguished his cigarette before he drawled, "Question is, what are you going to do about it?"
"Do? What can I do? I either forgive him or divorce him. I can't go on forever being married and not sleeping with him."
"I suppose not. When did he cheat on you?"
"Five months ago that he did it, although I've only known for the past three," Grace explained and drank the rest of her glass.
Jack moved to refill her glass once more. His movements were still fluid and graceful, but there was a glossy sheen to his eyes and his pupils were slightly dilated. Not drunk but he was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, she decided. Not that she wasn't rapidly approaching drunk she mused and giggled once more at the thought. As he lit another cigarette, she stared at his lips as they curled around it as he inhaled. When he exhaled, he grinned at her and she noticed his teeth. Even and white, considering how much he smoked, he had to have an impressive oral hygiene routine. For the first time, she really stared at the small goatee which clung beneath his lower lip. What was it they called them back in the 70's? A soul patch. That was it, Grace recalled. Would it tickle if he kissed her? What other places would the small patch of hair tickle if he kissed her elsewhere?
"What's wrong?" Jack asked.
"Huh?"
"You were staring."
Turning red, Grace tried desperately to think of a reason she could be staring at him. Finally inspiration struck and she replied, "It's your tie."
"What's wrong with it?" he inquired, looking at it to see what the problem was.
Emboldened by alcohol, Grace reached out and started to unfasten it as she said, "You can't wear a tie while you get drunk."
"I most certainly can. And often do, thank you," Jack informed her. "But by all means, take my tie off."
"Thank you, I intend to," Grace told him as she pulled the offending item off. Her fingers were itching to undo his shirt buttons as well.
"Take off anything you like," Jack teased. "Far be it from me to tell a woman she can't take my clothes off."
Although she wanted to take him up on his teasing offer, Grace settled for undoing two buttons and picking up her glass. She needed the drink to steady her nerves. As she unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt his finger had brushed his skin and it had an unsettling effect on her. Soft skin over taught muscles that made her ache to explore further. Once more Morgan rose up in her mind in an unfavorable comparison. Her husband had abundant salt and pepper hair on both his chest and his back. From the smooth texture of Jack's chest she suspected his back wasn't covered in graying hair.
"He's not even good looking," Grace grumbled to herself as she thought of her husband.
"Who?"
"Morgan. He's not even good looking. I have no idea what that woman saw in him. I showed you his picture, you didn't think he was very impressive looking, did you?"
"How would I know," Jack shrugged and drank his champagne. "Men aren't really my thing."
"Only every slim blonde female that crosses your path."
"If a lady of the right sort wishes my company, why shouldn't I? Mack hardly lacks for companionship as he waits for his ladylove."
"So neither should you, huh?" Grace countered. "So what does Alexandra think of Mack's parade of blondes?"
A sinful expression crossed his face as he drawled, "Samantha probably thinks I'm a narcissist."
"And are you?" she inquired in amusement both at his words and the fact Jack was mixing his characters' names with his and Samantha's once more.
Finishing off his glass and refilling both stemmed glasses, he replied, "Of course. But then so is she which really makes us er them the perfect couple when you think about it."
"Both of you being narcissists makes you the perfect couple, " Grace echoed.
"Love is a narcissism shared by two," Jack quoted. "Truer words were never written. Alexandra and Mack are perfect for one another because they both are narcissistic. For all that Alexandra gives lipservice to caring about her husband and Zoe, she spends every moment working on Mack's case. Most new mothers fuss over their babies, but Sa- Alexandra? She took Mack's case file to the hospital to read after the delivery and didn't nurse Zoe so she could return to work before her maternity leave was up. Even motherhood didn't sway her from Mack's case. And it's not because she cares about stopping him, it's because she's fascinated by him. Alexandra is obsessed with Mack to the point that nothing and no one in her life hold her interest or have the power over her that he does. Mack is a puzzle to her, the one enigma she can't figure out and her ego demands she understand him."
"And Mack?"
"Mack is more enlightened than Alexandra, in that he has exerted the power over life and death. His fascination with Alexandra may have started as an enigma he had to solve, but then he finally found the answer and his love for Alexandra demands she move to the next level with him. So while he's waiting for her to understand what he has to offer her, Mack creates displays of death to enchant and guide her into his world."
"And it's the shared obsession that binds them?" Grace hesitated as he drained another glass of champagne. It was fascinating to hear about his characters but she understood they ran in close parallel to Jack's life and didn't want to offend him.
"Exactly. Center your life around someone and follow their every move, eventually the only possible way to find peace is together. Alexandra depends on Mack's stalking and attention, it's like a drug to her. At the same time, Mack needs Alexandra to be a witness to his killing because he depends on her attention. They may temporarily be on opposite sides of the law but essentially it's two egos that exist almost solely to support and build each other up. When the day comes that Alexandra joins him, they'll be in perfect synchronization. An unending yin and yang of ego, love and violence in one glorious package, so that when they kill together it's love expressed in it's purest form."
As Jack topped her glass off once more and poured another for himself, Grace mulled over his words. She wasn't at her best from all the champagne but she still could see where the obsession between the two characters fed their egos and served as an unending cycle. From the passion in Jack's voice, she was sure that at least a part of it rang true in his relationship with Samantha. Certainly not the killing part, but clearly Jack and Mack were intimately linked. Maybe one day she would ask where the writer stopped and the character began, but not now, Grace decided.
"So what happens in the mean time?"
"In the meantime, Mack will continue to enjoy the company of attractive blondes until Alexandra sees the light," Jack told her and polished off another glass of champagne.
"That leaves me out, then," Grace sighed under her breath as Jack refilled his glass.
"Grace, you shouldn't put yourself down," Jack chided gently.
"Why not? Clearly I'm lacking if someone like Morgan cheated on me."
"Morgan is a fool."
"Maybe," Grace replied, her voice full of doubt.
Jack brushed her hair back from her face as he commented, "I think you look lovely."
"Morgan didn't like my hair," she dismissed his remark.
Suddenly Jack's hand was under her chin and he lifted her face to meet his gaze. "I'm not Morgan."
Her breath coming in shallow pants, Grace agreed, "No, you're not."
"You're-" Jack trailed off. His eyes moved over her and he said in a husky tone, "You really look lovely Grace. Truly, you're-"
Grace's breath caught as Jack stopped speaking. His eyes locked with hers for a moment, then fluttered closed as he covered her mouth with his. As his arms wrapped around her, she sank eagerly into his embrace. Opening her mouth to his, she gasped against the sweet invasion of his tongue. Although Morgan has kissed her thousands of times, nothing could have prepared her for expertise with which Jack's mouth explored and teased. Intoxicating and sensual, one kiss slid into another. One hand skimmed over her silky blouse and rested just under her breast, the closeness causing her nipple to harden and cry out eagerly for his touch. Never had she felt more alive or aware of her body's response than she was at that moment. Grace returned his kisses eagerly and hoped the moment would never end.