Author's note:
Something small before the next installment of the main storyline. I guess we can think of this as a sorbet. It's one of the only surviving parts of the Pleasures series. Dual POV.
Jen's apartment in Naples, Italy
April 16th, 1999
She wonders if Jethro knows how blatantly he stares at her mouth when she's talking.
It certainly isn't something he started doing while they were in Serbia.
That much she's sure about.
It might even stretch as far back as their days in DC - before they came to Europe.
Sometimes she stands just out of arm's length and engages him in abstract and meaningless conversation; watching him tune out their surroundings as she reels him in inch by inch.
She's the poster girl for smugness when his mouth eventually melds with hers, but he never complains.
On second thoughts she's sure he knows damn well that he stares.
And that she loves it.
Jethro knows he's biased – and it works for him.
He shouldn't discriminate, really, because all parts of the composite deserve worship.
But there's something about the way her mouth moves that effects an instant rise in systolic pressure.
The decadence it's capable of is only part of the equation though – and he knows he can't let on that he can lip read.
It might encourage her to stop vocalizing when he's lost inside her.
And hearing his name fall raggedly off her lips as they brush his earlobe is one of his few pleasures in life.