Baby lock the doors and turn the lights down low,

Put some music on that's soft and slow,

Baby we ain't got no place to go,

I hope you understand!

-Your Man, Josh Turner

WARNING. SMUT ENCASED. SKIP TO AFTER LINE BREAK IF Y'ALL DON'T WANT TO READ. LOVE Y'ALL'S. EVERY LAST PERVERT ONE OF YA. AUTHORS NOTE AFTER CHAPTER.


Jack's heart almost stopped.

Kim wasn't…wasn't going to leave? She wasn't going to remove herself from the situation and go? Escape him?

The blonde, whom he'd just decided was the most wondrous thing ever as he lived and breathed, gave a stuttered moan, melting into the hard cage of his body, hands gripping the edge of the partition. Jack's mind snapped from wonder to lust in the half a second it took for him to process that, and moving slowly, allowed himself to lay one warm, searching hand on the curve of Kim's hip. Taking the answering gasp as a hell yes, he ran one finger a little ways down the indentation in her jeans and pressed, gently and sensually, so close to Kim's there that the blonde literally lost her breath. Panting and trying to choke air down her throat, the blonde rested a hand on top of his and pushed his digits, her soft uncalloused fingers moving the corded muscle and dignified strength with one desperate carnal push, so his palm rested on her crotch and his fingers, oh his fingers with their heat and there-ness were finally, FINALLY, where she wanted them to be.

The brunette shifted his fingers experimentally.

The blonde's eyes screwed shut.

The brunette made one rolling, delving motion across the now hated coarseness of her jeans.

The blonde let out a frustrated mew and sighed her want and need, the warm that used to rest over her crotch evolving into a blazing inferno that was almost guaranteed to be stoked higher.

Despite all this, despite how fast Kim wanted to go, she hadn't counted on one thing. Jackson Callahan Brewer was a lovemaker. He didn't have sex. He made love. And he'd be damned if he didn't treat her the same way.

Almost before Kim could really process it, Jack had her perched on the thin but tough waist high partition, his fingers nimbly pulling her goggles off her head and her vest off her chest. Everything from then on seemed to move in stops and starts, a slow sensual dance that only the two of them shared.

The brunette, eyes dark reached out and threaded his fingers into the golden strands at the base of her neck, his lean fingers carding the hair band down the length of it, their hips pressed firmly, hotly together. The blonde slowing lifted the purple-black Stetson off his head and pushed it firmly on hers, letting out a gasp as Jack simultaneous tilted back her rim and grasped the peaches and cream skin her sweater revealed. Kim unbuttoned his rust colored shirt as fast as she could comprehend, torn between crying in want as his finger edged their way past the barrier of her panties and pushed down the tight jeans, her boots and pants being among the first items on the floor.

Soon Jack was shirtless, his hair falling down around his now dark chocolate eyes, Kim mewing in fulfillment when he gave her unspoken permission to touch his chest and arms, permission that he hadn't realized until now had been given ages ago. The blonde's searching hands explored the ridges and dips of his magnificent chest, her coos of happiness interrupted when her shirt was ripped off her body.

"You'll have to-havta-pay for that l-later," the blonde choked out as her bra, as well as his pants and boots, tumbled to the floor. The brunette filled his palms with the plump, smooth, precious perfect of her small breasts and didn't answer for a moment, drinking in her happy cries.

"Beauti'ful, pardon me if I tell ya that right now I don't give a shit," he husked out, thumbing her peaks and leaning his head down to taste the glory filling his palms.

As Kim nearly sobbed in happiness, someplace in the back of her mind was doing the forbidden. The locked away part of her that no one, no one was ever allowed to venture to. The part of her she swore she'd never give away.

Jack, on the other hand, knew what was happening. The fact that he didn't like it didn't matter as he soon realized, because it had been bound to happen, fated to happen, since he carried the angelic bundle back to his truck and tucked her in the back seat. It had been etched in the stars, written down in history by the time he'd made breakfast for her that next morning, sung by a heavenly chorus when he'd let her into his arms. For the first time, in a long time, Jack hadn't in control of jack shit when it came to matters of the heart. And when the brunette prepared to do the one thing he'd wanted to do since that plump lip first kissed his knuckle, he embraced his fate.

Lifting his head up from the wonderland that was Kim's breasts, Jack nuzzled his way up the length of her body, his nose coming par to par with hers as he rested his forehead on hers, his eyes fluttering briefly closed as he drank in her erratic, pleasure filled pants, a product of two of his lean strong fingers brushing the inside of her womanhood.

"Kimber'ly," he sighed out, once, twice, as her whimpers and mews filled his ears as they called for fulfillment.

"J-Jack?" she moaned out, just barely.

And then he kissed her.

God in Heaven, Lord above.

AND THEN HE KISSED HER.

Kim decided right there and then that if there was one thing she needed to live a happy life it would be kissing Jack. Kissing. Jack. It was unlinke any kiss she'd ever had before. Kissing Jack was like kissing him, his all, his everything. He smelled, as her constantly did, of oil and pine trees, fresh barbecue and sunlight, the rough and the tough with plenty of heart thrown in. He was life and joy and everything enduring Ricky had taken out of her. And she never wanted to go back.

Jack was on the exact same wavelength as she was. Feeling those effortlessly sensual, awe-inspiring mouth pressed eagerly against his reminded him of everything Kim had shown herself to be. Obstinate and grumpy and a neat freak and scolding but full of kick ass and country lovin' and starry eyes and sweet love. And he was never going back.

Brought to a crescendo by the orchestra of Jack's fingers and her damp, hot as hell womanhood, Kim let out one breathy, ecstasy filled moan, the sound attempting to make Jack's boner harder than it already was.

"Already?" The blonde panted out, hair cascading down her naked back. "You're finished already?"

Jack chuckled, the noise rumbling through both their chests. "One thin ya don't real'ize bout us country boys?" He pressed a deep, open mouth kiss on the dip of her collarbone that made Kim resist the urge to roll her eyes back in her head. "Is we've got crazy," another kiss and his manhood pushed strongly into her entrance, condom at the ready "ass" his tongue laved at her neck as he made one deep, deep hilted stroke. "Stamina."


Roughly an hour later, curled into Jack's sitting form, running her hands along the ridges and valleys of his chest, with his digits ghosting over the smooth skin of her hip, her hair splayed out behind her and his eyes resting on her with a dopey smile on his face, Kim felt the urge to ask a ridiculous question.

"Jack?"

"Mhm?" Jack tilted her skin and pressed a kiss on the joyfully pink curved lips.

"Why the hell haven't we been discovered?"

"Hand down, weird'st thing I have ever heard a wom'n say after lovemakin'." Jack chuckled, the blonde in his arms temporarily fascinated and distracted by the feeling of Jack's chest rumbling under her fingertips, the tan skin flexing. "Long story short, beaut'ful, Ernie, the guy who runs ta place, is an ol'army vet'ren. Deaf in one ear, alm'st deaf in ta other. And besides, I rent'd this range for a private session. He'd never dist'rb us. And if he did.," Jack shrugged and Kim was once again distracted by the sight of those wondorous limbs moving without the covering of a shirt or jacket. "He prob'ly wouldn't mind."

Kim was silent for a bit after that. There was another question brewing inside of her, but she was terrified to ask it. She didn't want to break the glorious, perfect spell woven between the two of them. They had lazily kissed dozens of times, him bringing her to her peak by stroking her with a practiced hand several times before she asked it.

"This really is a onetime thing isn't it, right?"

Her honey brown eyes searched his with a fragile desperation.

"Of course, beaut'ful," Jack pressed another kiss to those angel-fied lips and resolved to savor it as much as long as he could. "Of course."


They may have intended it to be a onetime thing, but it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

It had started no more than three hours after they'd finally gotten home. Jack had made his now infamous breakfast, and was humming along to the radio to find Kim's eyes staring hungrily at him. He raised an eyebrow and she scowled at him. "Stop it." she demanded, thumping her fork down on the table.

"Stop what lil' lady?" The brunette asked with real curiousity.

"That damned HUMMING." If looks could kill, Jack determined that he'd most definently be dead.

"You mean this?" Jack closed his mouth and starting humming to, of all thing, Honky Tonk Badonky Donk by Trace Adkins, a song that quite clearly praised a nice looking ass. He had the audacity to open his mouth and start singing the damn thing. "That honky tonk, badonky donk," his voice deep and low, that charming southern burr intensifying the sexy quality of the song. "Keepin' crazy rhythm make you wanna sing along, got it goin' on, like Donkey Konh, whooee, shut my mouth, slap your Gran'ma. There outta be a law, get the sheriff on the phone, Lord have mercy how she ever get them britches on-!" Kim cut him off in a sensual open mouth kiss before he could reach the end of the chorus.

The strangest things would set them off. He'd sneak into her room while she was showering and wait for her to come out and scream at him, staring at her the whole time with the stupidest grin on his face. Kim would stand there, all screamed out and nearly dry, and within half a minute they'd both be on the bed. They did it everywhere, it seemed. An empty office at the hospital, a janitors closet at the high school, out under the orchard, in the backseat of his truck, in the front seat of his truck-and it became apparent to them that this was far from a one-time thing.

Problem was, Kim was terrified to acknowledge it for what it was.

A relationship.

Because although Jack had embraced the fact that he was falling in love, Kim had gotten hurt. Badly. And she was fighting tooth and nail for it to never. Ever. Happen again.

I wish this chapter was longer, really I do, but it told me to end it here. And who am I to question to question the story when all I do is tell it? Stories have a life of their own, beloved readers. Make sure you know that. They'll tell you how they want to be told.

And after that UNNEEDED bullcrap quote about writing stories, I just want to tell you that all of your comments are kickass and appreciated. I'm currently in NC for a family visit and dear Lord y'all keep me going when my relatives make me want to kill myself. XP

What do y'all think of my new username?

And I hope you all had a nice Thanksgiving! Or a week, at least. Most of y'all celebrate it…I mean I guess? I dunno. I love y'all anyway.

Love,

Lil