A/N: A quickie for the holiday. A new chap of Missing Reese is in the pipeline as well. Thanks!
Her burner phone rang as she moved to the kitchen to put her teacup in the dishwasher.
"Carter."
"I need to see you."
"John...this isn't a good time. I have to get out to Marconi's in a little while and-"
"No, you're not going to Marconi's. Not until we've talked. I'm five minutes away. Open the door when I get there, Joss."
"John, I-"
"Open the damn door when I get there. Five minutes."
The phone went dead. A cold, icy dread went down her back and chilled every bone inside her body. She took two deep, gulping breaths, and decided tea wasn't strong enough for the rise in her nerves. Heading over to the small bar in her dining room, she filled a small brandy glass with a small amount of the liquid and downed it in one shot to calm her nerves. Luckily, Taylor was over at a friend's house studying.
Right on time, in five minutes, the doorbell rang. Smoothing her jeans, she walked to the door and opened it to see John there—and yes, they definitely needed to talk.
##
He looked as if he'd been struck in the face. His eyes wide with rage, burning with hurt; his jaw flexed like living stone. He stood in the doorway in his work uniform of black suit and white dress shirt, just staring at her. The seconds passed like hours. In all the time she'd known him, she'd never quite seen him like this.
"You heard my conversation earlier."
"Yeah, Joss. I heard your conversation. I've heard everything, loud and clear, since this investigation started. But this is not happening. I'm putting a stop to it. Find another way."
"John, you know what the stakes are here. I'm this close to cracking this case, but I need him to know that he can trust me above all so that happens."
"Yeah, I understand what the stakes are, Joss. Believe me, I know. What gets to me is that you don't seem to."
"John, look, I know this is-"
"Find another way. Dammit, find another way to bring Marconi in. Not like this."
"He...wants me. If I can use that to my advantage, I can end this case soon and he gets what he deserves. It's not what I want either! But we have to get this guy. We have to. John, please, try to understand..."
"You're not having sex with him! I don't care. If need be, I'll haul him in myself, but I'm not gonna let him touch you."
"John, maybe it wouldn't come to that after all. At least not all the way. But he's air tight otherwise. And his operations are like Fort Knox. Please, can't you see how this how this could work? How this could finally get us the break we need to bring him down?"
John was a rational man. But she wasn't being rational here. And he wouldn't hear of it.
"No. No, I don't understand that. He might get what he deserves, but before that happens, Joss, he gets you in his bed. How do you think that makes me feel?" His voice was low, almost methodical, and he bit into his words with clenched teeth. She could see hints of wetness in his eyes, and his nostrils flared. She had never felt so guilty for anything in her life, and she hadn't even done it yet.
"John, it wouldn't mean anything-"
She immediately regretted her choice of words, and at the expression on his face, her eyes began to fill with tears.
"It wouldn't mean anything? Jesus, lady, do you think I want to know, that I want to imagine, how he had his filthy hands on you, taking off your clothes? That he had his mouth on your body? That you let him fuck you? That he made you come? Hmm? Do you think I could stand that? I may be The Man in the Suit, but I'm not made of stone. No, I'm not. You have to find another way."
"John, this is best way I know of in this case. I've made so much headway already precisely because he thinks we're in a relationship, or heading towards one. I have to...I have to take the next step, if that's where it goes. But it doesn't mean anything, John, I swear to you!"
He palmed her face in his hand to gaze directly into her eyes. "How can you say that? Anthony Marconi is pure scum. I've been able to sit through hearing him make passes at you without putting a bullet in his head. But this—I can't take this, Joss. Undercover or not, you're mine. And I don't share you. Not with any man—but especially one the likes of him."
The tears she'd been holding back fell from her eyes. She leaned her forehead on his chest, while his arms folded around her.
"I just want to catch him, John. I just want him behind bars. He's hurt so many people, and just seems untouchable. I'd do anything to get him off the streets."
"Including trading your body, Joss? This isn't what you'd do, how you operate, Detective. You know that."
"Marconi isn't a normal gangster, John."
"You let me worry about him," John said. "We'll get the evidence we need without you sleeping with him for it. These sweet lips are only for me. Come here."
He lifted her face at her chin and kissed her fully, possessively, his tongue probing gently before she whimpered and parted her lips to allow his tongue entry. Soon, he left her mouth to trail kisses over her face, her eyelids, and cheeks, while his hands began to roam her body.
"These breasts are mine. Your neck...your belly...your pussy...mine too. Don't you dare think about giving that to another man...don't you know that would kill me, lady, no matter the reason? I couldn't handle it."
His words were like a match on her body, igniting the spark of lust where there had been regret and remorse before. John's potential for passion, once he'd shown it to her, was limitless. He was reserved, stoic, and methodical in his work on the streets—but with her, he was loving and hot, demanding and yes, passionate. He was like night and day.
Lifting her blouse up and over her head, John began a fevered and hungry quest to make love to her. His lips found the dip of her neck, which led to the softness of her breasts as they spilled over her lacy bra. She leaned back and whimpered, her own hands getting lost in the soft hair at his neck. Soon, his hands and fingers found her ass and thighs, and he pulled her close to him to feel the full impact of his need for her.
It wasn't long before his own suitcoat and shirt came off his body, and they fought blindly to find the safety of her sofa, while never once letting go of one another. John ran his mouth from her lips down her neck, breasts and belly before finding her lips again. Joss dug her nails in his back and wrapped her thighs around his back as he lie her down on the sofa.
After a moment, he lifted up and hovered over her on his knees, staring for several seconds before finding the clasp of her bra and unhooking it, allowing her breasts to spring free.
"Jesus, beautiful lady. Marconi doesn't get to have you. No negotiations, no explanations. You're not an offer that's on the table."
"No...I'm sorry, John."
"Don't be sorry. Just promise me this is a dead topic, all right?"
"It is. We'll find another way."
After her promise, the rest of their clothing disappeared and they spent their time loving each other, Joss doing all that she could to put John's insecurities to rest with her hands, fingers, mouth, and tightness. He entered her and thrust hard and sure, causing her to call out in one breath and to gutturally groan and cry in another. He was relentless in his loving, unyielding in his desire, and even when he flipped Joss over on top to straddle him, his thrusts continued, slow and hard at first, until she begged him to take it further and his speed increased. His facial expression was that of a drugged man, his eyes half-open to gaze at her, until he had no choice but to give himself up to the heat her wet love created for him.
Her phone rang once. And then it rang again. It continued to ring and ring. But Joss could not hear it. The sounds of love and desire simply didn't allow for that. It rang once more before heading over to voice mail.
When the time came for her to check her messages, there'd be one from her son, one from Fusco, one from her mother, and one from a certain criminal figure who was indeed keen to explore whatever promise their continued acquaintance offered.
"Hey there, dollface. I'm really looking forward to seeing you. I got big plans for us tonight, babe. Dinner, dancing, and who knows after that, huh? Well, I know, but I'm a gentleman, so I won't spring that on you too quickly, hahaha. Give me a call, and I'll let you know all about it. I'll see you later baby, all right? Take care."
A/N: In this one, Anthony Marconi aka "Scarface" is a top gangster in his own right, no affiliation with Carl Elias whatsoever. And he wouldn't have known of Detective Joss Carter before her undercover work on him.
Again, there is a Missing Reese chap coming up. Be well, everyone, and happy Labor Day to the American readers. :-)
