Big hello again to everyone- Fran, Spev, Donna, Alaina (Pimp John T.), Lamsey, Sam, Chris, Pen (she's groped Shane Rimmer!) Marg, Lee, all at TIWF.
Everyone who has read and reviewed so brilliantly , encouraging me to go further and further each time Karen and John get it on. And still managing not to mention naughty bits by name. In your face, ffic net- what's wrong with an NC-17 rating anyway?
Right, without further ado, here's Chapter 4 :-)
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Breakfast was finished. John drained the last of his orange juice, put the glass down with a theatrical clunk and sat back with his hands on his stomach, his lean legs stretched out under the table. He smiled happily at her.
"Thank you," he said. "That was very nice."
"You're most welcome," she smiled back.
He regarded her silently with his head tilted slightly to one side.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" She nudged his bare foot with hers.
"I'm making a star map of your face," he replied. "If I put an imaginary grid over it, I can create reference points for each of your features, calculate the angles between them and accurately plot their positions. Then, on Monday when I'm sitting at my desk bored out of my skull, I can think of you instead of making sculptures out of paper clips."
"Oh, John!" she proclaimed, her eyes wide. "I think I'm going to cry."
The funny thing was, she really did think she was going to cry. No-one had ever said anything like that to her. No-one had ever made a star map of her face.
She got up and went over to him. He pulled her onto his lap. "Why didn't I meet you at the start of my vacation?" he mused, wistfully.
"Fate, I guess."
He pulled a face.
"You'd prefer a more scientific reason, I suppose. You could call it...let's see...John Tracy's Theory Of Why Things Don't Happen The Way We'd Like Them To."
"Followed by Karen Meadows' Theory Of Why Everything Deserves a Smart-Assed Reply."
"Think we'd have survived a whole week together?" she grinned.
"I'd have been more than willing to give it a try."
She bent her head and kissed him. She savoured the bacon salt on his lips and the tang of orange juice on his tongue. He held her head gently and tangled his fingers in her hair. He moved his mouth slowly over hers, stoking the still smouldering embers of her desire. There was no rushing a kiss like this- this was slow and deep and meaningful. This was the kind of kiss that released dopamines in the brain and bonded two people together.
But on the other hand, this was the kind of kiss that left a woman breathless and unsure, that pulled up her anchor and cast her adrift on a stormy sea.
Karen knew she had fallen for this man.
She also knew she was powerless to prevent it.
They went back to bed. Wordlessly they removed each other's clothes, dropped them where they stood. There didn't seem to be a need to speak, to say anything that hadn't already been said. Everything else could wait. They stood before each other, naked and exposed. She let him look at her, examine her, commit her to memory. He ran his hands down her arms and held her fingers. He raised her hand to his lips and lightly bit the inside of her wrist. She fixed her eyes on the slender lines of his neck, the long tendon that ran from his collarbone to his ear. No doubt he could tell her what it was called.
She raised her eyes to his, lost herself in their dark blue depths.
He drew her into another lingering kiss, wrapped his arms around her. He grew hard against her lower abdomen. She moved to the bed, sat down and pulled him with her. Don't ever stop kissing me, she thought, helplessly. Don't ever.
She lay down and he moved with her. His tongue wrapped itself around hers in a warm, wet duel. His hand stroked her ribcage, cupped her breast, rubbed her nipple. Every nerve ending in her body responded as one to his gentle touch, all of them screaming for their turn to be caressed.
She stroked the back of his well-defined calf with her foot, her toes running up and down its silky length. He wasn't a hairy man, and what hair there was on his legs was fine and soft. The same with his forearms, where the hairs were blond from the sun. He had the sort of body you didn't want to stop touching. She ran her hands over his smooth back, felt his muscles move beneath her fingers.
"So..." he said, looking for all the world as though he were suppressing a very naughty grin, "are you...er, you know- are you okay to, um...do it again?" he waved his hand vaguely in the area of their lower regions.
"No pleasure without a bit of pain," she replied, guiding his hand between her legs.
"What are you, a masochist?"
"Where you're concerned? I think I must be." She kissed him tenderly, running her tongue smoothly over his lips, murmuring with satisfaction as his skilful fingers began arousing her to the point of no return.
She parted her legs for him and gripped his shoulders, biting her lip as he entered her.
He made love to her slowly, looking intently down into her face. It was almost disconcerting to have him watching her so closely as he moved inside her, but after a while she began to find the notion quite erotic. His eyes were hypnotic, almost unblinking. She couldn't hold them for long- besides, his lovemaking was stirring such pleasurable physical sensations in her lower regions that she thought she might lose all control if she looked at him as well.
Apart from her moans of pleasure, neither of them had as yet made any sound at all. This was no longer just sex. This was two human beings needing and wanting to be together in the limited amount of time they had left. This was intimacy with a purpose. This was like two condemned people eating their last meal.
John continued his steady pace, building up the pressure, feeling his stomach muscles contract and tighten. Still he watched her, enraptured by her look of intense concentration, wanting to make the pleasure last as long as he could.
No, he told himself, don't come yet. Don't come.
He pulled out of her abruptly. She cried out in protest, hands grabbing at him. "John, what?"
He arched his body over her, his hands pinning her forearms to the bed, his legs doing the same to her thighs. His erection hung wetly on her stomach. He kissed her passionately, pushing his tongue far into her mouth. She squirmed, unable to move. He nipped and sucked at her lips. The more she squirmed, the more he pinned her to the bed with surprising strength. He kissed her face all over, searing her skin with scorching breath.
He let go of her arms and moved down her body, kissing and nipping and licking. He spent a considerable amount of time on each breast, fondling them with his fingers, sucking her nipples, teasing them with his wet tongue, rolling them around in his mouth and biting at them until she groaned in agony, her hands and mouth buried in his hair.
He trailed his tongue down her torso, bit at her ribs, licked around her belly button, poked his tongue into it. He moved further south and nibbled the musky insides of her thighs, making her legs twitch and open automatically. He clamped his lips around her most sensitive little spot. He was an expert at exquisite torture. She bucked and moaned, ready to explode.
He got up quickly onto his knees. He pulled her left leg up over his shoulder and held the other one down across his thigh. He re-entered her and began thrusting, watching her all the while. She cried out with pleasure, clutching the sheets as he pushed into her, his fingers digging almost painfully into her thighs.
After a few moments in this position, he made her roll over again and penetrated her deeply from behind, but this time he put his hand in the middle of her back, between her shoulder blades, and pressed her down. Pinned to the bed, she could only brace herself as he continued his passionate onslaught with almost his full weight upon her. She gasped for breath, her face turned sideways into the mattress. He threw his head back, ignoring the burning pain in his thighs.
After a few more moments he stopped again, and her moans of protest became even louder. He pulled out very slowly, letting her feel every solid inch of him withdrawing. She made a strangling sound in her throat. Spots danced in front of his eyes with the amount of self-control he was exerting. He didn't know how much longer he could go on teasing both himself and her.
He knew she was nearing climax. As much as he was enjoying himself, he didn't think he was going to last much longer either. Shaking the hair out of his eyes, he stroked up and down the length of her quivering spine with his fingertips. Then he raised his hand and gave her a playful slap on the buttocks with the flat of his palm, then another a few moments later, grinning at her appreciative shouts and squeals.
God only knew what the neighbours were thinking.
Now he really went for it, giving it all he had, gripping her hips hard. His temples throbbed, his jaw clenched. His stomach seized and he groaned gutturally, his throat hoarse and tight. His hair clung to his forehead. Beads of sweat ran down into his eyes, making him blink furiously.
Karen felt him reach climax and that was enough to make her come too, sending her tumbling into freefall. Her entire body tensed like a coiled spring and then released all at once. Electricity shot all the way down to her toes and fingertips. She couldn't believe how many times he had made her come so explosively. She shuddered and jerked, her buttocks lifting up into the air. He pressed the flat of his palm hard against her and gave her another wave of pleasure right on top of all the other ones. He was still inside her, she was still trapped in his vice-like grip. He was making damned sure she experienced every last second of pleasure he could give her before this all ended.
The man was a sexual time bomb. How the hell could he ever have been celibate for as long as he said he had? Did he work all alone in the dark? Or was this incredible, no-holds-barred sex simply the result of all those months of built up tension?
She collapsed, exhausted. He let her go and watched her lying there flat out on her stomach, gasping and panting for breath, her legs still spread wide in front of him. He looked down at himself, red and rapidly shrinking. He blinked and breathed hard, filling his lungs with much needed air. He wondered where all that had come from. He vowed never again to go for so long without sex, especially if it was going to be like this.
She rolled over and pulled him into her arms.
"John Tracy," she declared, "you are unstoppable."
"Well, I've stopped now," he uttered into the sheets. "In fact, I'm thinking you might have to send me home with my **** in a splint."
"Aww," she teased, patting his back. "Poor baby."
He lifted himself on one elbow. "Was it good for you?" he asked. "I mean, really. Joking aside."
She stared at him. Surely he wasn't insecure about that stunning performance of his?
"Was it good? John, it was incredible! You're a dynamo. And you made sure I came, and more than once."
He smiled endearingly. "It would have been rude not to."
"You really are every woman's dream man."
"I don't know about that," he laughed.
"Oh, no, believe me. They ought to be queuing up around the block for your services." She tugged his forelock. "So what is the deal? Why are you still single?"
"I told you. I spend a lot of time alone."
"Are you a loner?"
"Kind of, I guess. I do get antsy after long periods of solitude."
She stroked his lower lip, ran her fingers over his chin and sharp jawline. "You're a mysterious one, all right."
He kissed her fingertips. "You wouldn't be the first to say that. Hell, my own brothers say that."
"You've got more than one brother then, I take it."
"Uh-huh. There's a whole bunch of us."
"I've got one sister. She's a lot older than me. We don't have a lot of contact, but we're not estranged or anything."
"I guess that makes you pretty much a loner yourself, then."
She smiled a little wistfully. "I guess it does."
"Loners of the world, unite," John smiled. "Except they wouldn't, of course."
She rubbed his nose with hers. "Silly."
John flopped back onto the bed, ran a hand over his stomach. It was her turn to prop herself up beside him. She rested her arm on his chest, tracing small circles around his pale brown nipple. "So. What should we do with ourselves today?" she asked.
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John cleaned up the kitchen while Karen took another shower. He stacked the dirty plates next to the sink and wiped the table properly with a soapy dish towel. It felt good just to potter around in someone else's space. He looked quickly through the cupboards, feeling a bit sneaky but just wanting to see what sort of foods she ate. It was the usual stuff, of course. Packet spaghetti and tins of tomatoes, half used packets of sauce powders and bottles of ketchup with congealed bits around the lid. A bag of dried fruit at the back that looked well past its use-by date. He took it down to check. Sure enough, it was around six months too old. He couldn't mention it of course, because then she'd know he'd been rooting around. But he sure hoped she checked the user information on things before she put them in her mouth.
He closed the cupboards and carried on with the dish washing. TB5 had a dishwasher, but he never needed it for the small amount of plates, cups and cutlery that he utilised. Besides, he found it therapeutic to plunge his arms into soapy hot water and get things sparkling clean again.
Sun streamed through the open window. In some other apartment a radio was playing Classic Oldies from the Twentieth Century and he listened to Three Dog Night singing Shambala as he scrubbed the plates. This was the life, he thought. I could really get used to this.
Karen got out of the shower and wrapped a thick warm towel around her. She heard the sounds of dishes in the kitchen and padded quietly to the open doorway. She stood leaning against the jamb and watched John working with his back to her at the sink, totally unaware of her presence.
He was shirtless, just wearing his trousers. She admired the lean lines of his back, his pert buttocks moving inside the snug fitting fabric. He had the perfect A-frame, wider shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. His shoulder blades were sharp and defined. The back of his neck was long and covered with velvety fine blond hairs. The little nub of bone at the top of his spine made her want to go over and kiss it.
And he was doing the washing up.
How was she ever going to keep hold of a man like this?
He must have caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, or smelled the scent of soap emanating from her freshly cleaned body. He turned and looked at her, smiling when he realised she must have been standing there for some time.
"Just thought I'd...you know." He indicated vaguely around the kitchen with one arm.
"Hey! Don't let me stop you, Dreamboy."
She opened the fridge, peered inside. "I was thinking, it would be nice to take a stroll around the park." she said, taking out a loaf of bread. "You know, have that picnic. Whaddya say?"
"I say let's go for it, otherwise you'll just end up dragging me back to the bedroom for more sex and before long the whole day will have gone by."
"Hmmm, that is a very likely scenario." She took out cheese and some ripe tomatoes and foraged around for anything else that might make a good picnic.
He finished the dishes, emptied the sink and went over to kiss the back of her neck. "I ought to take another shower too...although I kind of like the smell of you all over me."
She shivered. "Who exactly is going to be dragging who back to the bedroom, can I ask?"
He chuckled, lifted up her towel and gave her buttocks a soft squeeze and a pat. "No way, sweetheart, I don't think I've got anything left inside me. A nice shower and a walk in the park will do me just fine, thank you."
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The day was beautiful and bright. The park was crowded with people enjoying the summer sunshine. Children shouted and played, pet dogs bounding along beside them, barking excitedly. Sunlight dappled on the rippling lake, ducks and geese bobbed up and down, quacking and honking.
Teenagers threw frisbees, lovers canoodled on the grass. John and Karen walked hand in hand, Karen holding a bag containing a blanket and cushions, John swinging the bag of food they'd packed. His fingers felt strong and warm laced through her own. She noticed other women glancing at him as they passed by, and felt proud that she was with him, if only for this one day.
They picked a spot on the grass near the water, spread their blanket and sat down. A breeze drifted off the lake and fluttered through their hair. Karen began tightening the black velvet ribbon that she always used to tie her hair up, but John reached out and pulled it loose. Tumbling auburn curls cascaded over her shoulders and immediately blew into her face.
"John," she chided, her face covered by her hair.
"What? I like it loose. It's beautiful."
"I'm going to be pulling it out of my mouth all day now."
He scooted closer. "Then we'll just have to keep your mouth busy doing something else."
He cupped the back of her head and moved the hair out of her face just enough to uncover her lips, then he kissed her gently. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the sweet sensations, moving her mouth in tune with his, savouring his distinctive male taste, his John taste as she was starting to call it. His lips were soft and pliable, his kiss delicate yet firm, hungry yet undemanding. She murmured her approval, wishing she could stop time right at this moment and carry on kissing him forever.
Someone walking past gave a long low wolf whistle.
Karen blushed and giggled. "Think we're putting on quite a show," she whispered against his lips.
"Let them see what they're missing," John smiled naughtily.
They kissed some more. Then he leaned back and studied her thoughtfully. "You have freckles," he said. "Just there, on your nose."
"The sun brings them out," she grinned. "I used to hate them, but now I quite like them."
"They're like a mini-constellation," he agreed. "I'd better add them to my star map." he kissed her nose where the freckles were. "For the girl with stars on her face," he said.
"Oh, John!" she said, quite taken aback. "You say the nicest things." Her fingers reached instinctively for her nose where he'd kissed it. She watched him lovingly as he turned his attention to the bag of food, opening it up and laying the contents out on the blanket.
He took the lid off a small plastic tub and peered inside.
"I only had one apple and a few grapes, so I cut them all up together," she confessed.
He looked at her mock-sternly. "Five helpings of fruit a day, young lady. You can't just live on pizza and sex."
"Who says I can't?" she grinned.
"What's this?" he held up a tinfoil wrapped object.
"Half a bar of chocolate."
"Where's the other half?"
"I ate it. While I was making the sandwiches."
"So, this is my half, then." He made a big show of clutching it to his chest.
"Oh my God," she laughed. "Do you itemise everything?"
"You think it's funny now," he told her, "wait 'til it starts getting annoying. Wait 'til I'm telling you not just that you need more toilet paper, but just how many squares are left on the roll."
"Thanks for the fair warning."
"I get my ass kicked on a regular basis, don't worry about that."
"What are your brothers like? Slobs?" she laughed.
"Compared to me? Yes. But no, they're okay. One of them's kinda lazy, you have to sound a klaxon to get him up in the mornings. But they pull their weight. Which is good, because they wouldn't want me on their cases all day."
"Are you the oldest?"
"No. I'm the third." he caught himself, but it was too late.
"So how many of you are there?"
He thought quickly. The Tracy name wasn't a secret, it was only International Rescue that no-one knew about. She already had his name, and something told him that she was going to look him up. There were biographies attached to his books and his name came up on NooGoogle. His father and brothers were mentioned in some of the more detailed biographies, though not all. She would find them though, if she was that interested. There was a computer in her small front room, he'd seen it. Once she'd got their names she could NooGoogle them all and see all the public information she wanted.
Besides, if he acted cagey, it would only make her suspicious.
"Five," he told her.
"Wow, big family."
"Yes. But great, you know. They're all good guys."
"And what do they do?"
He thought about the information that was out there in the public domain.
"One's a test pilot, one's an engineer, one's a marine expert and the youngest is into racing cars."
"Wow. That's pretty impressive. Test pilot."
"Yeah, he's the oldest. Been doing it for years. One of the best there is, and I'm not just saying that because we're related. He could fly a Tornado through a pin hole he's that good."
"Wow," she repeated.
"I wouldn't want him to know I said that, though. He'd only get big headed."
"Typical guy," she said. "Gotta follow a compliment with an insult in case it makes you look wussy."
"Anyway, let's eat!" John said, wholeheartedly wishing to change the subject. "What's in these gorgeous looking sandwiches?"
After they'd eaten the small picnic and drank apple juice straight from the carton, Karen lay on the blanket at right angles to John with her head on his stomach and his arm across her midriff. She was glad she'd worn her jeans so that she could raise her knees. She kicked off her sandals and wiggled her toes through warm blades of grass.
John's head was propped on one of the cushions. Music drifted across the park, gentle and lilting. It sounded like a harp.
"What time do you have to leave tomorrow?" she asked, instantly regretting that she'd mentioned that particular topic yet again.
"I have to be at the airport at noon," he said, not sure how much information he wanted to keep divulging to her.
She fell silent. Maybe there had been something in his tone that suggested he didn't want to keep talking about it.
Or maybe she didn't.
"I'll tell you something though. I won't leave it this long 'til a vacation again."
"You'd better not, mister."
There it was again. The unspoken assumption that they would see each other in the future.
Karen didn't think she could cope with the idea of never seeing him again. Even if she thought she would only see him once a year, that would be enough. But to never lay eyes on his handsome face or to weave her fingers through his soft blond hair again, that was unthinkable.
John thought of his own near future, alternating the months in TB5 with Alan and spending all that time on his own again. It was bad enough that he was going straight back to the satellite on Monday without even getting much time to spend with the guys. But now that he'd sampled the pleasures of the flesh- Hell, sampled? He'd eaten an entire three course meal- he didn't know how he was going to deal with being by himself again.
He looked up at the clouds scudding overhead. Plenty of guys had worse jobs, he realised. Oil rig workers, miners. He had it pretty good, really. He shouldn't be grumbling. He was actually in a privileged position. He had a big, loving family, they didn't want for anything. And they helped people. Really helped people. In a lot of cases, their arrival at a danger zone meant the difference between life or death and saved countless people that would otherwise have perished or been critically injured.
When he thought about it that way, he was pretty indispensable.
He just wasn't ready to go home yet. Not after these last two days.
Funny. He didn't know what to do with himself at the start of his vacation. He'd actually spent one whole day doing absolutely nothing at all except padding around the luxurious suite in his pyjama bottoms drinking out of the mini bar and ordering room service. Then he'd slobbed on the huge cream leather sofa and watched cornball guy movies all afternoon. He'd spent a few evenings mooching around the bar and struck up a few conversations with other lone bar flies but nothing of note had happened to him, unless he'd missed something, which was quite likely given the fact he tended to lose attention and drift off unless his mind was really being stimulated.
Or his body.
Preferably both.
He hadn't hooked up with any women, although he recalled there was one in the hotel restaurant who looked at him a few times. She was nice looking enough, but he wasn't that interested.
He hadn't been thinking along those lines at all until he'd met Karen. He knew that even if she hadn't instigated that amazing kiss in the library, he would still have wanted to see her. He would have taken her for that coffee. Whether he would have progressed things at quite the speed that they'd actually happened, he wasn't sure.
But he was glad she had made the first move.
She was plucking blades of grass and stripping them with her purple painted fingernails. Her toes were tapping to some imaginary rhythm. He was content to just lie there with his arm around her watching the clouds, waving away the small summer flies.
Peaceful moments like these were hard to come by.
He should make the most of this one.
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I know...the moment of departure draws ever nearer... o_o
Chapter 5 will be up soon. If you have the time for a quick review, please let me know what you think!
With thanks, T xx