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Disclaimer: Once again, they don't belong to me for as twisted and devious as my mind can be I still couldn't create characters this Awesome! But I can barrow them, if the PTB want let them have any fun I will! After all, all work and no play makes for very boring fanfic.
Summary: What happens when you cant walk away...
Spoilers: Your appetite? I don't think there are any in here.
Warnings: Pure unfiltered fluff ahead. (Read: a poorly written attempt at romance, Centre style. (;-})
I tried to write an unhappy-ish ending, but I just couldn't do it! Oh well, maybe next time.
E.mail: Send anything, Flames, Bad Jokes, Fic Challenges through Rayhne please. Thanks! :)
Parts: 1
Author: Puzzling
Written: September 15, 1999
Rated: R-ish, I'm not really sure.
Copyright: 1999
Tired of Alone
I am tired.
No, I am exhausted.
I am dead weight, moving on auto pilot. Because tonight I am to tired to think. Tonight I can not pretend to be ‘Miss Parker.' I'm to bone weary. Stretched to my limit. I want nothing more then silence.
Peace.
I want peace.
But I cannot ignore the phone when it rings, by habit I answer with my normal snap. Though tonight it's more tired then terrifying. I hear his voice, asking me how I am and I'm suddenly struck with the irony of this, here I am, the hunter. And the only one who gives a damn
about me is my prey, Jarod.
I used to wonder if his ‘sincere' calls were simply to gain points. Maybe he wanted to protect himself so I would hesitate to shoot him.
Well, whether it was his plan or not it worked. I missed him before, and I will miss him again.
He asks how I am in the quiet voice I remember as a child. I almost answer him truthfully. But I cant have that. Even with Jarod there must be a wall.
Especially with Jarod.
Because with him it would be so easy to drop everything, and I've been holding it all for so long I don't know if I could pick it all back up again. I don't know if I'd want to.
So I give him an acid remark and tell him to leave me alone.
I am to tired to deal with him now.
He exhales loudly, slowly, tiredly. I know he is tired of this game. We play it because it keeps us alive. We can not back away, we cannot move forward. It's a stalemate.
I think it has been for years.
And before this particular game, there were others, I wonder if he remembers. Then realize it doesn't matter. Because this game will probably be our last. He will stay free and I'll die, or I'll walk away and he'll be a prisoner in hell. Either way we both lose. I am tired and I want to be alone, to cry, to drowned in my sorrow and a drink. But he wont allow it. Won't leave me to myself.
He knows that's not what I really want.
What I want he cannot give. And if he offered I'm not sure whether I could bring myself to accept.
I've spent so long being ‘Miss Parker' hard and cold, steel and ice, that I think I've forgotten how to he myself.
He remembers though, how could he forget?
He knows my smile, and my laugh, they were memorized years ago before I stopped giving them away. Even after all these years he pursues that part of me I left behind as a child.
Truth be told, I think that she died in that elevator so long ago.
But I haven't the heart to crush his hopes, or my own. I know that if she is somewhere in this tired, and frail body he will find her. Because he's Jarod, and only he knows what it's like to be me. He was the one who gave me comfort, strength, support, and in our own childish-ways
love.
I know I returned it then; but he is still giving them and I have stopped.
Why? I ask myself.
And if there is an answer do I really want to hear it? Could I hear it above my own screaming voice, and clicking heels?
No.
The truth? I haven't really been listening, I cant listen, because the answer terrifies me. I feel alone and frightened.
I suddenly realize why she hides, because she still loves him, and I cannot.
She cannot watch me chase, and scream, and shoot because she is IN love with him. And I hate her for it. Because I can not be.
Because I will not let myself be in love with him. It would kill us both.
Yet I cannot stop the whisper of his name on my lips.
He is still there, he will not leave me alone tonight, and yet I am already alone. More alone then I have been in a long time.
"I'm tired of being alone." He tells me.
I nod as silent tears leave my eyes. "I know." I tell him.
"You don't have to be alone though." This I whisper in fear and hope.
It's a prayer really:
Please Jarod, don't leave me alone; because I am tired of it too.
His exhale is one of exhaustion and longing. "I wish it were possible." He whispers to me. And I know how truthful he is being, it's in his voice. In my own voice.
"I guess it will never be that simple for us," I acknowledge with a tear filled voice.
"No," He agrees with resignation. He has been fighting for it for a long time, fighting for us. But we both know the odds.
They would kill us if they found out; I know they would. Or use one to get to the other, and I'd rather die then aid in Jarod's demise.
Then the irony hits me and I laugh, but it is a bitter laugh, there is no humor in it. Only pain.
"When is this going to end?" He asks suddenly.
"What?" I ask unsure of what he is referring to.
"This race to stay one step ahead, for us both, the challenge to hold on, and stay away at the same time. The search for the truth, for vengeance, for our lives."
"I wonder if it will ever end." I answer woodenly.
Do I have the strength to go on forever? I have trouble making it through each day.
"Come away with me."
I spin dropping the phone and he is there. Cell phone in hand. But he is speaking to me not to the phone.
"Come with me and it ends." He urges me as he approaches. He stops before me arms spread eyes hopeful.
I choke out his name as I fall into his arms, head tucked beneath his chin.
He holds me to him for a long time; whispering to me as I cry silently.
When I am quiet he lifts my face and kisses my forehead his thumbs gently sweep away the tears from my cheeks.
"Please, come with me," He pleads.
"I can't." I meet his gaze begging him to understand.
If it wasn't a death sentence for us both...
"They would send someone who would want to find you, it wouldn't be a game anymore."
"We'll disappear forever, leave the country go somewhere safe."
"What about the truth Jarod? What about your family?"
"You are more important to me than any possible link to my parents. More important then any truth."
My breath catches in my throat. This is more then I could ever ask for. I cannot accept and he knows it, but he will never give up.
"I cant let you do that Jarod, you family is to important, you have to find them; I have my own truth to find."
He lets out a heavy sigh. " I didn't really expect you to say yes." His voice is full of defeat.
"Then why come?" I ask.
Jarod of all people should understand the uselessness of beating your head into a wall.
And I'm a pretty solid brick wall.
"I was hoping you wouldn't say no." He answers.
Ah, Jarod. The eternal optimist even in times like this. It's a wonder he can still see the good after so many years of the Centre. Lord knows I cant, not unless its biting me in the ass. But then...
"What if...what if I didn't say no, just for one night?" I whisper unsure why I am even asking.
Jarod takes a second to react, then his fingers are wound in my hair holding my head. Kissing me.
It's a slow, soft kiss. He pulls away before anything comes of it. Studying my eyes.
"Like I said. Neither one of us wants to be alone tonight." I whisper.
Then pull him into another kiss. This one stronger from the start. I feel his tongue on my lips, and I open myself up to him. His hand holds me to him, pressed to my back. His other hand in my hair. I am not in control of this joining, but I am far from submissive. It takes two to tango, and Jarod and I, we tango well.
When he pulls away again it is only for air, I seem to have forgotten how to breath as well. Which is why I think even my heart stopped when he began kissing down my neck.
My hands are under his t-shirt. They seem to be moving of their own accord.
Caressing hard smooth muscles. A moan escapes my throat as I feel his hands began to wonder the plains of my stomach, my chest, my back. My knees nearly give-way as his mouth returns to mine, I can feel him against me, strong and hard.
Oh boy.
I think we should move this someplace other than my living room. The carpet is new: nuff-said.
"Jarod." I try to speak but it comes out as a low moan.
Damn him.
I sound like a weak pathetic woman. But that thing he's doing to my neck feels absolutely divine.
Then I remember. Bedroom. Right.
"Jarod," I force out.
It sounds harsh and instantly his muscles tense under my fingers.
I gently run my fingers through his hair, hoping it will tell him it's okay, he relaxes a fraction. But he still seems posed on the edge of flight.
"I think we should..."
"Stop?" He asks.
I quickly shake my head. "No, I was going to suggest..." I gesture toward my room. He lifts his head to look at me.
I suddenly can't say it. I'm at a loss for words.
I don't know why, I've taken lots of men home to bed with me.
But this is Jarod.
I suddenly feel very nervous. How will this all turn out? Any man I've brought home to bed has been simply there to satisfy me. Hard and fast: then they left. Sometimes they left numbers, but I never bother to call.
Like I said; this is Jarod.
I can almost guarantee with him it wont be hard, or fast, it wont be meaningless. Jarod will make it slow, and bittersweet. Jarod will make it an expression of comfort, and passion and love.
Then not because he wants to, but because he has to: he will walk away.
He has to, they would find him this close, and I cant go with him, can I?
He says my name softly.
My eyes snap back into focus. I have been a million miles away, and he knows it.
"Are you sure you want to do this? You seem...distracted." He looks slightly hurt.
"Yes Jarod, I'm sorry. It's just...it's just.." I struggle to find a way to word what I have to say. "Jarod, I want...no, I need you to promise me that in the morning you'll be gone."
He looks taken aback and I hurry to finish before he takes too much offense.
"Because if I wake up with you by my side, it will be harder to watch you walk away. I don't know that I could, and we both know that you have to leave or they'll find out."
He opens his mouth to speak.
"...and my going with you is not an option." I have to add that before he can suggest it again.
His teeth click shut and he stands quietly for a minute before he finally nods if albeit reluctantly.
I slowly lean into him and kiss him again. He welcomes the contact wrapping me in his arms. He has accepted my terms, such as they are. Now its up to him to follow through.
"Bedroom" I mumble and he nods taking my hand, he leads me there.
Obviously familiar with the surroundings...even in the dark, something I prefer not to dwell on.
In my bedroom he strips me of my cloths unceremoniously. I wonder for a moment as he undresses himself whether I was wrong before, and he will be like the others: done quickly with an emotional detachment. A fast fuck then out the door, on to greener pastures.
I consider this until he pulls me to him again, and I feel his fiery passionate kiss and his strong hands touching and caressing my sensitized skin.
I know that I am in trouble now.
Big trouble.
Please Jarod keep your promise. I pray as we fall back on the bed.
His left hand and mouth are torturing my upper torso, and his right hand is slowly traveling downward, until he reaches my center. I inhale sharply as I feel two long delicate fingers enter my body, testing my readiness.
I can already feel the heat and moisture there, but he does not seem satisfied yet. His hand works me while I gasp for air, my head spinning.
My vision started to blur and discolor right about the time his hand started those slow circling rhythms on my clit.
His mouth latches on to my breast as his left hand joins his right torturing me ever so slowly . One hand working circles while the other explores my heat and wetness.
I wonder for a fleeting moment if Jarod wants me to come alone this time. If that's his plan then Id have to say that he is succeeding because I can feel my muscles start to tense. My inner muscles tighten, gripping for something that isn't there.
I clutch the sheets is fists as the waves hit me and rational thought flees for a few moments. When I return to myself Jarod is holding me to him, stroking my back. He smiles down at me and kisses me before rolling to be on top. His hands part my thighs. Eyes locked on mine. He
had my consent years ago, but he still watches me for any sign that I've change my mind.
I smile softly and he nods, slowly pushing into me.
My muscles are tight from my previous climax but they open slowly as he pushes against them. He is being very careful not to hurt me. But I really could care less, I have been hurt before. It's nothing that wont heal.
Besides pain from him would be barred happily. A simple reminder for the next few days of what is happening between us tonight. I can lie to my father, tell him I went skiing if he mentions anything. I really don't care what that bastard thinks any ways.
I take his hips in my hands and pull him down to me.
His hands grasp my sides, his eyes wide with shock. "Are you sure you were ready for that?" He asks me concerned.
"I could careless about bruising Jarod, you were taking to long." I tell him.
He gives me a disapproving look. But I don't care, I know he wants this to last. But I just want him. I don't care about taking our time.
Oh Lord in Heaven, I was right about Jarod. His movements are slow, and smooth, but they are also firm and hard. He does not slam into me, and he doesn't move to slowly. He takes his time hitting just the right angle, just the right spot.
His hands alternate between firmer caresses like he earlier preformed on me and adjusting my hips to whatever position he thinks will work best.
I can feel the heat and pressure coiling in my belly. I can already tell that this one will rock the rector scale, possibly even top all my other previous records. And I'm to busy kissing Jarod and returning his caresses to really ponder whether it is his technique, or simply him.
At this point I could care less because I am almost there, I can feel the muscles start to tremble and flex. Jarod must feel it to because he reaches down and circles my clit again. His other arm holds me to him as he changes pace. And slams into me harder then I thought he could.
My body is more accustom to this roughness then the former caresses, and it pushes me over the edge. As my body convulses I lapse into a blissful darkness. Feeling Jarod fill me with his essence.
I feel warm and sated. I feel my heart slowing from it's racing pace. My chest rises and falls with my still heavy breath.
But it is the heated embrace I am wrapped in and the body entwined with mine that captures my attention. For a moment I struggle to remember who I am with; what stranger did I bring home with me who didn't follow my instructions to leave immediately afterwards. But then I feel his hands brush a tender caress on my lower back. His lips pressing a kiss to my neck as he whispers my name.
Jarod.
I can still feel my bodies' trembling as it tries to recover from the orgasm that must've' made me pass out. Which has never happened before.
Not even with Tommy, and Tommy, well, lets just say that he was very very good in bed.
I run my hands up Jarod's arms and move to kiss him. He holds my face tenderly returning my kiss softly but firmly.
When I pull away there are tears in my eyes. I Barry my face under his chin my arms holding him desperately close. I made him promise to leave me, because I knew I would beg him to stay. He seems to have followed my train of thought because his hands grip my hips, where we are
surprisingly still joined.
"You promised," I whisper through the lump in my throat.
"No," He grounds out. "Not yet." His voice low, commanding telling me not to argue with him. God knows I don't want to argue with him, at least part of me doesn't the other half knows he has to go soon.
I know part of him realizes that too. But his other half is quickly winning any indecision on staying or going. He kisses me and then slowly moves down my body placing kisses lower and lower. He pulls me up to kneel above him.
His hands steadying me as his mouth goes to work. I moan reaching down to run my fingers through his thick brown hair. I managed to choke out his name on a moan, and words that cut me more than him.
"You promised."
* * * *
My eyes open slowly, I feel cold.
Cold and alone.
I raise to look around. Jarod is gone, so are his clothes-he didn't just go to the bathroom.
He left me.
I feel the agony rip through my body. Even through I know I made him promise.
He had to leave.
He had to.
But that doesn't make the ache in my chest dissipate. Or dry the tears in my eyes.
I slowly climb from under the tangled sheets, muscles I'd almost forgotten about are screaming in protest. I'm not really surprised.
Jarod was very demanding last night.
I smile a little.
The boy defiantly has stamina, I lost count last night around 1 a.m.
I slowly stretch and move to the bathroom.
I need a shower, desperately.
My muscles twinge and I grab the counter for support.
Maybe a hot bath would be better.
I pull back the curtain the shower is still wet. Jarod must have used this morning before he left. I grin remember last night and considering my own disheveled appearance and realize: he probably had to take a shower. Unless he wanted to get arrested for indecent exposure in public.
The hot water does wonders to revive my muscles and senses. I wait till I feel half-way human to step out. I wrap a towel around my body and one in my hair. I strip the bed of sheets to throw them into the wash, and get new sheets from the closet. I throw them on the bed. I'll put them on later.
I glance at the clock while I am dressing and realize that I am late for work, but I don't really care.
Not today anyway.
I find a single red rose in my kitchen with a note from Jarod. It is a simple note, scribbled in a hurried, unsteady hand. He probably debated over leaving any evidence for someone to find, to much of a risk for us both.
I carefully unfold the note reading the words.
I Love You.
~Jarod.
P.S. Answer the Phone.
I finish the last line just as the phone rings. I reach over and pick up the cordless- which Jarod has left by the note.
"What?" I ask. Though I'm sure he can hear the smile in my voice. Hell I'm practically grinning.
"Oh come on, aren't you the least bit curious as to how I did that?" He asks.
I feel my grin widening.
"I probably don't want to know." I reply glancing around the kitchen for cameras or even him in the shadows.
He laughs softly. Then becomes serious again. "I didn't want to leave you this morning." He tells me.
My breath catches. "I didn't want you to go." I answer.
"Then why did you make me Promise? And don't tell me ‘them' we both know that I can sidestep them in my sleep."
I take a deep breath.
Why?
Because last night I realized that that little girl and I have something very much in common.
"Tell me it's because you don't love me anymore." He tells me.
I hear the pain there and shake my head vigorously just incase he can see me somehow.
"No Jarod. She still loves you. She always has, she always will."
He knows who I'm talking about.
"What about you?" He asks. "Why did I have to walk away?"
"Because Jarod, if you had been with me this morning I wouldn't have been able to ask you to leave. It's not that I don't love you, that's not it at all, I never stopped loving you. I think I'm more IN love with you now then I ever have been that's why you had to go. Because if you had asked me this morning to come with you, I wouldn't have been able to say ‘no'."
I hear his sigh of relief. "What if I asked you now?"
Tears blurs my vision. "But, your not here Jarod." I'm sure he can hear the tears in my voice.
"Yes or No," He cuts in.
"Yes." I answer. "I would."
"Good then turn around."
I drop the phone and stand back-against the counter facing Jarod. His eyes dark, and unreadable as they run over my body.
"Come with me."
"Jarod I...." I start to say but he is two steps ahead, as always.
He pins me to the counter and kisses me roughly. When he pulls away I am breathless.
"Come with me," He urges.
"Yes," I whisper into his mouth then kiss him again. How could I think of doing anything else? I love you Jarod, I love you, I love you, "I love you." I Whisper.
The End. ;-)
Summary: What happens when you cant walk away...
Spoilers: Your appetite? I don't think there are any in here.
Warnings: Pure unfiltered fluff ahead. (Read: a poorly written attempt at romance, Centre style. (;-})
I tried to write an unhappy-ish ending, but I just couldn't do it! Oh well, maybe next time.
E.mail: Send anything, Flames, Bad Jokes, Fic Challenges through Rayhne please. Thanks! :)
Parts: 1
Author: Puzzling
Written: September 15, 1999
Rated: R-ish, I'm not really sure.
Copyright: 1999
I am tired.
No, I am exhausted.
I am dead weight, moving on auto pilot. Because tonight I am to tired to think. Tonight I can not pretend to be ‘Miss Parker.' I'm to bone weary. Stretched to my limit. I want nothing more then silence.
Peace.
I want peace.
But I cannot ignore the phone when it rings, by habit I answer with my normal snap. Though tonight it's more tired then terrifying. I hear his voice, asking me how I am and I'm suddenly struck with the irony of this, here I am, the hunter. And the only one who gives a damn
about me is my prey, Jarod.
I used to wonder if his ‘sincere' calls were simply to gain points. Maybe he wanted to protect himself so I would hesitate to shoot him.
Well, whether it was his plan or not it worked. I missed him before, and I will miss him again.
He asks how I am in the quiet voice I remember as a child. I almost answer him truthfully. But I cant have that. Even with Jarod there must be a wall.
Especially with Jarod.
Because with him it would be so easy to drop everything, and I've been holding it all for so long I don't know if I could pick it all back up again. I don't know if I'd want to.
So I give him an acid remark and tell him to leave me alone.
I am to tired to deal with him now.
He exhales loudly, slowly, tiredly. I know he is tired of this game. We play it because it keeps us alive. We can not back away, we cannot move forward. It's a stalemate.
I think it has been for years.
And before this particular game, there were others, I wonder if he remembers. Then realize it doesn't matter. Because this game will probably be our last. He will stay free and I'll die, or I'll walk away and he'll be a prisoner in hell. Either way we both lose. I am tired and I want to be alone, to cry, to drowned in my sorrow and a drink. But he wont allow it. Won't leave me to myself.
He knows that's not what I really want.
What I want he cannot give. And if he offered I'm not sure whether I could bring myself to accept.
I've spent so long being ‘Miss Parker' hard and cold, steel and ice, that I think I've forgotten how to he myself.
He remembers though, how could he forget?
He knows my smile, and my laugh, they were memorized years ago before I stopped giving them away. Even after all these years he pursues that part of me I left behind as a child.
Truth be told, I think that she died in that elevator so long ago.
But I haven't the heart to crush his hopes, or my own. I know that if she is somewhere in this tired, and frail body he will find her. Because he's Jarod, and only he knows what it's like to be me. He was the one who gave me comfort, strength, support, and in our own childish-ways
love.
I know I returned it then; but he is still giving them and I have stopped.
Why? I ask myself.
And if there is an answer do I really want to hear it? Could I hear it above my own screaming voice, and clicking heels?
No.
The truth? I haven't really been listening, I cant listen, because the answer terrifies me. I feel alone and frightened.
I suddenly realize why she hides, because she still loves him, and I cannot.
She cannot watch me chase, and scream, and shoot because she is IN love with him. And I hate her for it. Because I can not be.
Because I will not let myself be in love with him. It would kill us both.
Yet I cannot stop the whisper of his name on my lips.
He is still there, he will not leave me alone tonight, and yet I am already alone. More alone then I have been in a long time.
"I'm tired of being alone." He tells me.
I nod as silent tears leave my eyes. "I know." I tell him.
"You don't have to be alone though." This I whisper in fear and hope.
It's a prayer really:
Please Jarod, don't leave me alone; because I am tired of it too.
His exhale is one of exhaustion and longing. "I wish it were possible." He whispers to me. And I know how truthful he is being, it's in his voice. In my own voice.
"I guess it will never be that simple for us," I acknowledge with a tear filled voice.
"No," He agrees with resignation. He has been fighting for it for a long time, fighting for us. But we both know the odds.
They would kill us if they found out; I know they would. Or use one to get to the other, and I'd rather die then aid in Jarod's demise.
Then the irony hits me and I laugh, but it is a bitter laugh, there is no humor in it. Only pain.
"When is this going to end?" He asks suddenly.
"What?" I ask unsure of what he is referring to.
"This race to stay one step ahead, for us both, the challenge to hold on, and stay away at the same time. The search for the truth, for vengeance, for our lives."
"I wonder if it will ever end." I answer woodenly.
Do I have the strength to go on forever? I have trouble making it through each day.
"Come away with me."
I spin dropping the phone and he is there. Cell phone in hand. But he is speaking to me not to the phone.
"Come with me and it ends." He urges me as he approaches. He stops before me arms spread eyes hopeful.
I choke out his name as I fall into his arms, head tucked beneath his chin.
He holds me to him for a long time; whispering to me as I cry silently.
When I am quiet he lifts my face and kisses my forehead his thumbs gently sweep away the tears from my cheeks.
"Please, come with me," He pleads.
"I can't." I meet his gaze begging him to understand.
If it wasn't a death sentence for us both...
"They would send someone who would want to find you, it wouldn't be a game anymore."
"We'll disappear forever, leave the country go somewhere safe."
"What about the truth Jarod? What about your family?"
"You are more important to me than any possible link to my parents. More important then any truth."
My breath catches in my throat. This is more then I could ever ask for. I cannot accept and he knows it, but he will never give up.
"I cant let you do that Jarod, you family is to important, you have to find them; I have my own truth to find."
He lets out a heavy sigh. " I didn't really expect you to say yes." His voice is full of defeat.
"Then why come?" I ask.
Jarod of all people should understand the uselessness of beating your head into a wall.
And I'm a pretty solid brick wall.
"I was hoping you wouldn't say no." He answers.
Ah, Jarod. The eternal optimist even in times like this. It's a wonder he can still see the good after so many years of the Centre. Lord knows I cant, not unless its biting me in the ass. But then...
"What if...what if I didn't say no, just for one night?" I whisper unsure why I am even asking.
Jarod takes a second to react, then his fingers are wound in my hair holding my head. Kissing me.
It's a slow, soft kiss. He pulls away before anything comes of it. Studying my eyes.
"Like I said. Neither one of us wants to be alone tonight." I whisper.
Then pull him into another kiss. This one stronger from the start. I feel his tongue on my lips, and I open myself up to him. His hand holds me to him, pressed to my back. His other hand in my hair. I am not in control of this joining, but I am far from submissive. It takes two to tango, and Jarod and I, we tango well.
When he pulls away again it is only for air, I seem to have forgotten how to breath as well. Which is why I think even my heart stopped when he began kissing down my neck.
My hands are under his t-shirt. They seem to be moving of their own accord.
Caressing hard smooth muscles. A moan escapes my throat as I feel his hands began to wonder the plains of my stomach, my chest, my back. My knees nearly give-way as his mouth returns to mine, I can feel him against me, strong and hard.
Oh boy.
I think we should move this someplace other than my living room. The carpet is new: nuff-said.
"Jarod." I try to speak but it comes out as a low moan.
Damn him.
I sound like a weak pathetic woman. But that thing he's doing to my neck feels absolutely divine.
Then I remember. Bedroom. Right.
"Jarod," I force out.
It sounds harsh and instantly his muscles tense under my fingers.
I gently run my fingers through his hair, hoping it will tell him it's okay, he relaxes a fraction. But he still seems posed on the edge of flight.
"I think we should..."
"Stop?" He asks.
I quickly shake my head. "No, I was going to suggest..." I gesture toward my room. He lifts his head to look at me.
I suddenly can't say it. I'm at a loss for words.
I don't know why, I've taken lots of men home to bed with me.
But this is Jarod.
I suddenly feel very nervous. How will this all turn out? Any man I've brought home to bed has been simply there to satisfy me. Hard and fast: then they left. Sometimes they left numbers, but I never bother to call.
Like I said; this is Jarod.
I can almost guarantee with him it wont be hard, or fast, it wont be meaningless. Jarod will make it slow, and bittersweet. Jarod will make it an expression of comfort, and passion and love.
Then not because he wants to, but because he has to: he will walk away.
He has to, they would find him this close, and I cant go with him, can I?
He says my name softly.
My eyes snap back into focus. I have been a million miles away, and he knows it.
"Are you sure you want to do this? You seem...distracted." He looks slightly hurt.
"Yes Jarod, I'm sorry. It's just...it's just.." I struggle to find a way to word what I have to say. "Jarod, I want...no, I need you to promise me that in the morning you'll be gone."
He looks taken aback and I hurry to finish before he takes too much offense.
"Because if I wake up with you by my side, it will be harder to watch you walk away. I don't know that I could, and we both know that you have to leave or they'll find out."
He opens his mouth to speak.
"...and my going with you is not an option." I have to add that before he can suggest it again.
His teeth click shut and he stands quietly for a minute before he finally nods if albeit reluctantly.
I slowly lean into him and kiss him again. He welcomes the contact wrapping me in his arms. He has accepted my terms, such as they are. Now its up to him to follow through.
"Bedroom" I mumble and he nods taking my hand, he leads me there.
Obviously familiar with the surroundings...even in the dark, something I prefer not to dwell on.
In my bedroom he strips me of my cloths unceremoniously. I wonder for a moment as he undresses himself whether I was wrong before, and he will be like the others: done quickly with an emotional detachment. A fast fuck then out the door, on to greener pastures.
I consider this until he pulls me to him again, and I feel his fiery passionate kiss and his strong hands touching and caressing my sensitized skin.
I know that I am in trouble now.
Big trouble.
Please Jarod keep your promise. I pray as we fall back on the bed.
His left hand and mouth are torturing my upper torso, and his right hand is slowly traveling downward, until he reaches my center. I inhale sharply as I feel two long delicate fingers enter my body, testing my readiness.
I can already feel the heat and moisture there, but he does not seem satisfied yet. His hand works me while I gasp for air, my head spinning.
My vision started to blur and discolor right about the time his hand started those slow circling rhythms on my clit.
His mouth latches on to my breast as his left hand joins his right torturing me ever so slowly . One hand working circles while the other explores my heat and wetness.
I wonder for a fleeting moment if Jarod wants me to come alone this time. If that's his plan then Id have to say that he is succeeding because I can feel my muscles start to tense. My inner muscles tighten, gripping for something that isn't there.
I clutch the sheets is fists as the waves hit me and rational thought flees for a few moments. When I return to myself Jarod is holding me to him, stroking my back. He smiles down at me and kisses me before rolling to be on top. His hands part my thighs. Eyes locked on mine. He
had my consent years ago, but he still watches me for any sign that I've change my mind.
I smile softly and he nods, slowly pushing into me.
My muscles are tight from my previous climax but they open slowly as he pushes against them. He is being very careful not to hurt me. But I really could care less, I have been hurt before. It's nothing that wont heal.
Besides pain from him would be barred happily. A simple reminder for the next few days of what is happening between us tonight. I can lie to my father, tell him I went skiing if he mentions anything. I really don't care what that bastard thinks any ways.
I take his hips in my hands and pull him down to me.
His hands grasp my sides, his eyes wide with shock. "Are you sure you were ready for that?" He asks me concerned.
"I could careless about bruising Jarod, you were taking to long." I tell him.
He gives me a disapproving look. But I don't care, I know he wants this to last. But I just want him. I don't care about taking our time.
Oh Lord in Heaven, I was right about Jarod. His movements are slow, and smooth, but they are also firm and hard. He does not slam into me, and he doesn't move to slowly. He takes his time hitting just the right angle, just the right spot.
His hands alternate between firmer caresses like he earlier preformed on me and adjusting my hips to whatever position he thinks will work best.
I can feel the heat and pressure coiling in my belly. I can already tell that this one will rock the rector scale, possibly even top all my other previous records. And I'm to busy kissing Jarod and returning his caresses to really ponder whether it is his technique, or simply him.
At this point I could care less because I am almost there, I can feel the muscles start to tremble and flex. Jarod must feel it to because he reaches down and circles my clit again. His other arm holds me to him as he changes pace. And slams into me harder then I thought he could.
My body is more accustom to this roughness then the former caresses, and it pushes me over the edge. As my body convulses I lapse into a blissful darkness. Feeling Jarod fill me with his essence.
I feel warm and sated. I feel my heart slowing from it's racing pace. My chest rises and falls with my still heavy breath.
But it is the heated embrace I am wrapped in and the body entwined with mine that captures my attention. For a moment I struggle to remember who I am with; what stranger did I bring home with me who didn't follow my instructions to leave immediately afterwards. But then I feel his hands brush a tender caress on my lower back. His lips pressing a kiss to my neck as he whispers my name.
Jarod.
I can still feel my bodies' trembling as it tries to recover from the orgasm that must've' made me pass out. Which has never happened before.
Not even with Tommy, and Tommy, well, lets just say that he was very very good in bed.
I run my hands up Jarod's arms and move to kiss him. He holds my face tenderly returning my kiss softly but firmly.
When I pull away there are tears in my eyes. I Barry my face under his chin my arms holding him desperately close. I made him promise to leave me, because I knew I would beg him to stay. He seems to have followed my train of thought because his hands grip my hips, where we are
surprisingly still joined.
"You promised," I whisper through the lump in my throat.
"No," He grounds out. "Not yet." His voice low, commanding telling me not to argue with him. God knows I don't want to argue with him, at least part of me doesn't the other half knows he has to go soon.
I know part of him realizes that too. But his other half is quickly winning any indecision on staying or going. He kisses me and then slowly moves down my body placing kisses lower and lower. He pulls me up to kneel above him.
His hands steadying me as his mouth goes to work. I moan reaching down to run my fingers through his thick brown hair. I managed to choke out his name on a moan, and words that cut me more than him.
"You promised."
My eyes open slowly, I feel cold.
Cold and alone.
I raise to look around. Jarod is gone, so are his clothes-he didn't just go to the bathroom.
He left me.
I feel the agony rip through my body. Even through I know I made him promise.
He had to leave.
He had to.
But that doesn't make the ache in my chest dissipate. Or dry the tears in my eyes.
I slowly climb from under the tangled sheets, muscles I'd almost forgotten about are screaming in protest. I'm not really surprised.
Jarod was very demanding last night.
I smile a little.
The boy defiantly has stamina, I lost count last night around 1 a.m.
I slowly stretch and move to the bathroom.
I need a shower, desperately.
My muscles twinge and I grab the counter for support.
Maybe a hot bath would be better.
I pull back the curtain the shower is still wet. Jarod must have used this morning before he left. I grin remember last night and considering my own disheveled appearance and realize: he probably had to take a shower. Unless he wanted to get arrested for indecent exposure in public.
The hot water does wonders to revive my muscles and senses. I wait till I feel half-way human to step out. I wrap a towel around my body and one in my hair. I strip the bed of sheets to throw them into the wash, and get new sheets from the closet. I throw them on the bed. I'll put them on later.
I glance at the clock while I am dressing and realize that I am late for work, but I don't really care.
Not today anyway.
I find a single red rose in my kitchen with a note from Jarod. It is a simple note, scribbled in a hurried, unsteady hand. He probably debated over leaving any evidence for someone to find, to much of a risk for us both.
I carefully unfold the note reading the words.
I Love You.
~Jarod.
P.S. Answer the Phone.
I finish the last line just as the phone rings. I reach over and pick up the cordless- which Jarod has left by the note.
"What?" I ask. Though I'm sure he can hear the smile in my voice. Hell I'm practically grinning.
"Oh come on, aren't you the least bit curious as to how I did that?" He asks.
I feel my grin widening.
"I probably don't want to know." I reply glancing around the kitchen for cameras or even him in the shadows.
He laughs softly. Then becomes serious again. "I didn't want to leave you this morning." He tells me.
My breath catches. "I didn't want you to go." I answer.
"Then why did you make me Promise? And don't tell me ‘them' we both know that I can sidestep them in my sleep."
I take a deep breath.
Why?
Because last night I realized that that little girl and I have something very much in common.
"Tell me it's because you don't love me anymore." He tells me.
I hear the pain there and shake my head vigorously just incase he can see me somehow.
"No Jarod. She still loves you. She always has, she always will."
He knows who I'm talking about.
"What about you?" He asks. "Why did I have to walk away?"
"Because Jarod, if you had been with me this morning I wouldn't have been able to ask you to leave. It's not that I don't love you, that's not it at all, I never stopped loving you. I think I'm more IN love with you now then I ever have been that's why you had to go. Because if you had asked me this morning to come with you, I wouldn't have been able to say ‘no'."
I hear his sigh of relief. "What if I asked you now?"
Tears blurs my vision. "But, your not here Jarod." I'm sure he can hear the tears in my voice.
"Yes or No," He cuts in.
"Yes." I answer. "I would."
"Good then turn around."
I drop the phone and stand back-against the counter facing Jarod. His eyes dark, and unreadable as they run over my body.
"Come with me."
"Jarod I...." I start to say but he is two steps ahead, as always.
He pins me to the counter and kisses me roughly. When he pulls away I am breathless.
"Come with me," He urges.
"Yes," I whisper into his mouth then kiss him again. How could I think of doing anything else? I love you Jarod, I love you, I love you, "I love you." I Whisper.
