Like a River

By Kadi

Rated: M

Disclaimer: It isn't my sandbox, but after that cliffhanger, I will admit to being tempted to not give the toys back. I will, but only because they aren't really mine.

A/N: Rated M - NSFW

Chapter 11

The biggest difference in having Jack home again came in having to actually learn to live with him again. They were cautious around each other during those first few weeks. Jack kept his promise to stay in the guestroom. He got a job at legal aid. It didn't pay well, but it was steady work. He went to meetings, he stayed out of bars, and he avoided poker games and betting halls. They shared meals and chores, and managed the awkward and uncomfortable moment when they had to discuss finances. That was one area where Sharon was not willing to relax her guard. Never again would they share all of their income. What she agreed to, however, was a household account. They both contributed to it, while maintaining control of their personal finances. They were not simply coexisting this time; they were sharing a life.

Jack realized quickly that Sharon's walls were built strong and high. To get around them, his work was cut out for him. He couldn't simply expect her to be his wife again. He would have to show her that she wanted to be. He set his mind to wooing her. It wasn't easy. She was a hard nut to crack, but he had known her for a long time, and he found that he wanted to woo her. There was something that was both interesting and enjoyable about getting to know the woman that he married as she was now, and not as the girl that he remembered.

He took her to dinner, arranging dates that he thought she would enjoy, and that were not meant to be extravagant. They went to shows and movies, and spent lazy afternoons in museums or art galleries. He maxed out his last working credit card and took her to New York for a weekend, so that they could see their daughter dance. That had gone a long way toward loosening Sharon up toward him, but he hadn't done it just to get into her good graces. Emily had been glad to see them both, and that had given him hope that maybe there was a future for all of them after all.

It was hard work, trying to repair a marriage. They had missteps and arguments, and every time, Jack wondered if Sharon's disappointment in him ran too deep for them to make it work. It took more than a month for her to start to relax around him, more than a month before she would let him touch her without immediately tensing up. They talked about the affair. Jack had to admit that his ego was pretty bruised by it. He couldn't exactly claim that he had been totally faithful to her during all their years of separation, but he never expected that Sharon would go looking for what she needed outside of their marriage. He couldn't blame her for it. He wasn't around. They agreed to put it behind them.

Two months passed before Sharon was willing to go public with their reconciliation. It was uncomfortable, sitting in front of their friends, her friends really, as a couple that existed as more than just two names on a piece of paper. She still hadn't let him touch her yet. Jack had started to think of the guestroom as his. Sharon was softening toward him, though. He could sense it. She no longer pulled away if he tried to kiss her, and more than once in the past week, she had fallen asleep with her head pillowed against his lap while they watched television.

It was hard for him to reconcile this woman with the one that had an affair. He knew Sharon, knew how passionate she was, but he was reminded of what she was like when they first dated. She had insisted on a proper courtship, and while it wasn't always completely innocent, their wedding night had been the first time that they made love. Jack was beginning to feel a little like he should get down on his knee and propose again. He would do it, if that was what she wanted of him, except that he was terrified of what her answer would be this time.

It was frustrating to be that close to a woman as beautiful as his wife was, and not be able to show her. Although, part of him also wondered if this was his punishment. Sharon had smiled as she left him last night, seated on the sofa, obviously aroused after an hour spent making out like a couple of teenagers and with just a Goodnight, Jack to show for it. She had gone to bed and he had taken a cold shower. He was taking a lot of those lately.

Jack was wondering how long that was going to last as he made his way down the hall from his room to the outer rooms of the condo. He was fighting with a cuff link as he went. He had come home to a suit hanging on the back of his door with a note from his wife to be dressed by six-thirty. She hadn't told him why, and since she was already closed up in her bedroom, he hadn't had the chance to ask yet.

"Okay, Sharon…" Jack scowled at the cuff link as it threatened to fall out from between his fumbling fingers. "At least tell me that I'm not going to spend the night picking at some god-awful rubber chicken and listening to boring speec-" He trailed off when he looked up. She was standing in front of him in a deep crimson dress that clung to every curve in a way that made him wonder if the dress had been made just for her. Thin straps were gathered behind her neck. Her hair was pulled up; thin, loose curls framed her face and neck. Jack's eyes followed the outline of the dress, from the way it fell in soft folds across the curve of her cleavage to the soft material that danced around her ankles when she moved.

His jaw was hanging open. Sharon shifted uncomfortably and looked down at herself. Her hands smoothed out imaginary wrinkles as they moved down her waist and thighs. "It's too much, isn't it?" The dress was not her idea. Emily had picked it out when they were in New York a few weeks ago. It wasn't overly revealing, and she had felt good wearing it, until she saw his reaction.

"Wow." Jack finally found his voice. He continued to stare at her. He walked slowly forward and took her hands. He held her arms out from her body and shook his head. "No, it's great. I… you look…" He couldn't even put it into words. "Wow," he said again.

She felt her cheeks grow warm as color flooded them. "Really?" She chewed on the corner of her lip. Sharon was still getting used to compliments from him, at least when he didn't want something. He was usually very liberal with them when it suited his purpose. "You don't think that I should change?"

"God no," he said, voice much thicker than it had been before. "You're perfect." He met her gaze and grinned. "It looks good, Sharon. Really good."

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She pulled her hands out of his and took his arm. Sharon pulled it between them and fixed the cuff link that he was fighting with. "Thank you." She could feel herself beginning to relax again, and more than that, tiny sparks of excitement were dancing along her spine.

"Hey." She was concentrating entirely too hard on fixing the cuff of his shirt. Jack tipped her face up. "I mean it." His thumb swept across her bottom lip. He leaned forward slowly. When she didn't duck away, he let his lips settle against hers. His arm moved slowly around her. Jack pulled her against him and let his hand settle against her hip. As their kiss slowly deepened, she melted into him, arms sliding around his shoulders and a low hum filling the silent room.

He was igniting something inside of her that she thought long buried. Sharon had resolved to move slowly with Jack, and was grateful that he had respected her enough to allow it. He was doing everything that she asked of him, and trying very hard to be the kind of husband that she told him that she needed him to be. Last night had been a test. She allowed them to get carried away, and then, she walked away. It was rather unfair of her, she knew, but she needed to know if he would rail against her, as he had in the past, for not being the wife that he expected her to be. She knew that she had left him aching and frustrated, but rather than yelling insults at her, she heard the shower running. She was almost tempted to join him. She wasn't immune to the situation. Sharon had decided to make it up to him instead. Tonight would be her treat.

She smiled as his lips moved across her jaw. She drew a breath as they moved down her neck. Then he kissed her shoulder before moving away from her. Her eyes opened slowly and she smiled brightly at him. She could see that he wanted more and she could feel the affect that it had on him. Sharon swept her hands down the front of his suit. "I hope you won't mind if we postpone the rest of this until later," she said, voice low, filled with desire and promise. "We have a reservation at Michele's and tickets to Tosca."

Jack drew back in surprise. "You hate the opera." She had never cared for it, no matter how much she loved ballet and art. The opera was simply not to her taste.

"You don't." Sharon smiled at him. "I also seem to recall that this one is your favorite. Think of it as… a peace offering." Her hands moved back up his chest. She draped her arms loosely around his neck. "I know that I haven't been making this easy on you, but you are trying. It hasn't gone unnoticed, Jack. I'm not only talking about the big gestures. The trip to New York was wonderful, but I mean the little things that you are doing too. You make dinner, and you pick up the dry cleaning. You're tolerating my insane work hours, even better than I think I do most of the time. You haven't pushed, you've given me the space that I need to get comfortable with the idea of us being an us again, and I have appreciated that, even when I haven't showed it."

"Let me get this straight." Jack's hands rested against her waist. "You want to thank me for being a decent guy by getting all dressed up and going out to some fancy French place, that I know you're going to hate, and an opera that is going to bore you to tears?" His hands slipped down to cup her bottom. He drew her against him. "Honey, if you want to do that, order a pizza, put on a movie, and get naked."

Sharon laughed. Her head fell back, and when he took that as his opportunity to attach his lips to her pulse point, she moaned. "Jack, we have reservations." She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. He moved suggestively against her and she fought the urge to giggle. She gave his shoulders a push and shook her head at him. "Dinner first, and then dessert."

He pouted at her. "Damn your rules."

His blue eyes were dancing. Sharon walked away from him with a smile. "You love French cuisine, you love opera, and…" She stopped at the door and turned back. She exhaled a shaky breath. "I love you, so let's go." She couldn't claim that she was in love with him anymore, but she did still care deeply about the man that had fathered her children. She had made up her mind to throw herself more fully into her marriage and that was going to begin tonight.

He wasn't sure that he had heard her right. Jack walked over and stood in front of her. "Say it again," he said, voice thick. He was taking small, shallow breaths. He could hear his heart pounding out a rhythm in his chest.

He looked just as bewildered as he had the first time that she said it, more than thirty years before. Sharon cupped his cheek. She leaned in and brushed a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. "I love you," she said softly.

His hands cupped her face. He tipped her head back and covered her mouth with his. It was a kiss designed to make her toes curl. They swayed where they stood. Jack pressed her into the wall beside the door and attempted to convey everything that he had been trying to express for the past two months in a single kiss. When he pulled away, her lips were swollen and her eyes were glazed. He grinned down at her. "After you, Mrs. Raydor."

It had been a long time since she allowed anyone to call her that. Sharon felt a warmth that she thought long gone fill her. Her hand curled around his tie and she drew him back to her. "Well," she drawled in a thick voice, "maybe staying in isn't such a bad idea after all, Mr. Raydor."

"Oh thank god." He pulled her away from the door and turned her toward the hall. "There was no way I was going to survive a night out with you in that dress." He was walking her backwards down the hall. His hands were in her hair and already it was tumbling down in a mess of loose curls and long layers. His lips latched on to her neck again.

"Oh?" Sharon shrugged away from him. She took a step back. Her eyes were wide. "This dress? You don't like it?" She shrugged and offered a small hum. She reached up and opened the closure behind her neck. "Then perhaps it should go…"

Jack looked heavenward as it hit the floor at her feet. "Thank you," he said, and meant it.

"Eyes forward, Jackson," Sharon instructed with a smirk. She stepped out of the pool of material and walked toward him. When he looked at her, she felt a blush coat her cheeks and move lower. Sharon tugged the corner of her bottom lip into her mouth and waited. His eyes seemed to be taking it all in. She wondered for a moment what he would think. She was only a girl when they married, barely twenty-three, and with a body that had not experienced two children and menopause.

He watched the doubt flicker across her face as he stepped forward. "Sharon." He tipped her face up when she ducked it to avoid his gaze. "Still beautiful," he told her. His hands moved to her shoulders. They ghosted down her arms in a feather-light caress. He watched her shiver and smiled. His hands moved to her waist and then lower, to settle against her hips. His thumbs stroked her stomach, from abdomen to hipbone. She couldn't know what she was doing to him, standing there in just the silk and lace that had been hidden beneath her dress. He took another step forward. His eyes were drawn to the rapid rise and fall of her chest. His hands slid slowly up her sides, fingertips all that was touching her as they skirted over her ribs. He heard her breath catch and watched her nipples harden against the lace of her bra. His thumbs traced the outline of the black, silk encased underwire that shaped the cups of her bra. Slowly, his gaze lifted. She was watching him, lids heavy and lips parted as she drew quick, shallow breaths.

Jack laid a hand against her chest, the heel of his hand just barely reaching the curve of her left breast. His thumb stroked her collarbone. He could feel the rapid flutter of her heart beneath his palm. His head bent and his lips ghosted across her cheek. "No," he said, when her eyes fluttered and tried to close. "Look at me." He reached up with his other hand to cup the back of her neck. Her head was tipped back. He continued to watch her, enjoyed the way her eyes dilated and grew dark as his lips brushed hers. He teased her, tongue tracing the curve of her bottom lip. She made a sound at the back of her throat that was lost somewhere between a moan and a hum and he felt his already aroused flesh twitch in response.

"Jack." His name was barely a whisper on her lips. Her hands were at his sides, fisted in his jacket. There was heat tingling through her. Her nipples ached to be touched and a low ache had started to spread warmth through her belly. Her lips felt impossibly dry, a sharp contrast to the moisture that she could feel pooling between her thighs. It surprised her. She had been slow to arouse in the last few months, since her body had plunged further into menopause. Her tongue darted out to sweep over her lips and she hummed at the taste of him.

He drew the back of his hand down her chest, between the soft mounds of her breasts and across her stomach. He nipped playfully at her lips, and when he felt her fingers dig into his arms, he angled his head and covered her mouth. His arm slid around her waist and his hand pressed against the small of her back. Jack drew her closer and felt the length of her settle against him. The bulge of his arousal pressed against her belly, and while their tongues danced, finding a rhythm that they thought they had forgotten, he let his other hand slide up her side to rest against her ribcage.

Her back arched. She moaned into his mouth as she rubbed her aching breasts against his chest. The friction of the lace dragging against her nipples sent a shock of pleasure through her. Sharon slid her hands up his arms. One of them gripped his shoulder while the other moved into his hair. Her fingers tangled in the slightly curling locks at his collar.

Jack's thumb traced the underside of her breast. It was a teasing caress, and she answered him with an almost pained grunt. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth as the digit moved higher. He circled her nipple, and enjoyed the way she rolled her hips against him. Jack lifted his head and looked down at her. Her lips were swollen and red, the lipstick that she had worn earlier was all but gone. He turned them where they stood and pushed her back, until the wall was behind her, something to brace her against. Then he turned her. He shrugged out of his jacket before he placed his hands against the wall, on either side of her. His lips moved across her shoulder, to her neck.

"Oh god." Her head fell back. Sharon stepped out of her heels and kicked them aside. Her bottom bumped against the bulge in his pants. Sharon kept one hand against the wall and reached back with her other to grip his thigh. She rubbed herself against him, hips moving in a slow, forward motion.

"Yes." His tongue traced a path up the side of her neck to her ear. He drew a hand between them and opened the clasp of her bra. The strapless scrap of silk fell away, forgotten at their feet. Jack's hand slipped around her body and he palmed her left breast. "That's it baby," he muttered when she thrust herself against him. He let his calloused palm drag across her sensitive nipple until it was impossibly hard, straining toward him. Then he rolled it between his fingers, tweaking it between thumb and index finger.

"Oh!" Her head fell forward again. Sharon rested her forehead against the cool surface of the wall. "Jack." She whimpered when he drew his hand away from her. "Don't stop," she demanded.

"I'm nowhere near done with you." He took both her hands and planted them against the wall. Then he drew his palms down her arms to her sides. He slid them back up, cupping both her breasts and enjoying the heavy weight of them. He pinched and rolled her nipples until she was grinding herself into his hard-on. He only let go of her long enough to step back and loosen his tie. He ripped it over his head and watched as she turned while he worked at the buttons of his shirt.

Sharon reached out to help him. Between the two of them they got the shirt open and she pushed it off his shoulders. She moved away from the wall and folded her arms around his neck. Her mouth covered his and she sought his tongue again as they moved toward the bedroom. They tripped over clothes and shoes and fumbled with his belt as they went.

Inside the room, Jack pushed her away from him. He kicked out of his shoes and toed off his socks. He maneuvered her toward the bed and when they reached it, he guided her down to lie on the mattress. He stood over her, eyes tracing over her flushed and aroused form. Jack opened his pants and pushed them down his legs. His arousal was tenting his boxers as he moved onto the bed with her. He leaned over her then pressed a kiss against her collarbone.

Her back arched. Sharon moved her hands into his hair as his lips moved downward. She curled her legs around his body and when his mouth covered one of her aching nipples, she rolled her hips against him. "God yes," she gasped. Her head was tossed back, she stared at the ceiling, entirely unseeing as he swirled his tongue around her aroused flesh. "Jack, please…"

He leaned back on his knees and stared down at her. He couldn't remember the last time that he had seen her looking at him like this, with such need, such wanton abandon. He drew his hands down her sides to her hips. His fingers moved beneath the silk of her panties. He watched her teeth scrape across her bottom lip as he pulled them down her thighs. With that last barrier gone, he moved between her parted legs. Jack stroked his hands up and down her thighs. Her arousal was glistening against the folds of her sex. He pushed his hands to the apex of her thighs and slipped his thumbs inward, to trace the inside of each hip.

Her hips thrust toward him. Sharon fisted her hands in the duvet beneath them and tossed her head back. He was teasing her, making her ache for him in a way that was almost more pain than pleasure. "I need you," she told him.

"Soon." He bent over, arms curling beneath her, and drew her toward him. He could smell her, the musky scent of her arousal. Jack hooked his arms beneath her thighs and planted his hands against her stomach, then he drew his tongue along her slit.

"Oh. My. God." Her hips tried to buck against him, but he kept her anchored to the bed. The pressure of his hands against her stomach while his tongue was sliding between her folds was almost too much. "Jack!"

His tongue circled her engorged clit. He could feel the clenching of her muscles beneath his hands. Her thighs were trembling. He groaned at the taste of her. His tongue made a few more passes as her sex before he lifted his head. He was too damned old to be bent at that angle for more than a few minutes. Jack looked down at his wife, she was panting beneath him. He met her gaze and held it as he backed off the bed. He pushed his boxers down his legs and kicked them off. His hard-on bounced toward her.

Sharon sat up. She scooted to the edge of the bed and sat there. Her hands moved down his chest and over his belly. She looked up at him, and it was her turn to watch him as she curled her hand around the base of his length. He was hard, pulsing in her hand as she stroked him. "Table," she told him.

Jack knew what she wanted. It was the only thing she always asked for when they were together. He leaned over and opened her bedside table. He found the box of condoms easily and lifted one of the foil wrapped packages. She took it from him and he watched, lips parted and breath coming in heavy pants as she rolled it onto him. He thrust into her hand. When she lay back again, Jack moved over her. He parted her thighs and drew them high. The head of his length pushed between her folds. He rubbed it against her, coating himself in her arousal. Her hips moved with him, lifting in a circular motion that made him throb. Jack watched her face as he guided himself to her entrance. Their eyes met as he pushed inside her. "Sharon."

"Yes." She dug her heels into the bed. Sharon drew her hands over her head and gripped the edge of the mattress. "Again," she panted.

Jack pulled back until only the head of his length was still inside her, then he thrust forward, harder this time. They both cried out. He braced himself against the bed, knees aching and did it a third time. He watched her eyes close and her neck arch. Her inner walls clenched around him and he gritted his teeth. "Fuck." He thrust into her again and the friction was almost heaven. "Is that this what you want?" He angled his thrust so that his pelvis rubbed against her clit.

"Yes." She forced her eyes open. Sharon looked at him, watched him as he began to thrust more quickly. "Jack, yes… I need you."

"You have me." He gripped her hips then and began to thrust with abandon. Quick, hard thrusts that had him grunting every time he bottomed out inside of her. When he felt his release approaching, he moved his hand over her pelvis again. Jack pressed his thumb against her clit and let their moving bodies guide how it touched her. "Come on, baby."

She was close. She could feel it. She tossed her head to the side and pressed her eyes closed. The heat of the plateau stole her breath. Sharon cried out when her body contracted. Her eyes opened and she reached for him. Her hands found his thighs and she gripped them tightly as she rode each wave of pleasure that washed over her.

Her inner walls gripped him tightly. Jack waited until he felt the contractions of her orgasm begin to lessen before he leaned over. He drew her thigh higher and pressed into her more insistently. Gone was his rhythm as he chased his own orgasm. He came with a shout, thrusting hard and shaking as his arms and knees threatened to give out beneath him.

He collapsed on his side beside her and rolled onto his back. While he struggled to breath, his hand reached out blindly and landed against her thigh. Jack stroked the soft skin and stared at the ceiling above them. "My god," he whispered. He had forgotten how good it could be. He looked toward her, found her in a similar state. "I love you," he said.

She laid her hand over his and nodded. It was all that she was capable of at the moment. Sharon shifted closer toward him. "Me too," She managed after a moment. Her tongue swept across her bottom lip. A smile curved her lips. "Not bad, considering we're so old."

Jack snorted a laugh. Her leg had somehow ended up sprawled across his. He pushed it off him. "Old? Give me a couple of hours and I'll show you old…"

"Hours?" Her brows lifted. Sharon's eyes sparkled teasingly. "What happened to minutes?"

"Woman, are you trying to kill me?" He shook his head. Jack grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. When she sprawled across his chest, he stroked a hand down her back. "Okay, so maybe old is a little subjective."

Sharon laughed. The heat was cooling and the sweat and moisture that were covering their bodies made her shiver in the cool air of the condo. "Okay, a few hours it is. If you think you will still be awake…"

"You're on," he decided, accepting her challenge.

It was several hours before either of them slept. They had spent the evening enjoying one another, and had, as he suggested, ordered pizza when they decided that they were hungry.

Sharon had forgotten about Jack's snoring. That was something else that was going to take some getting used to again. She stared at the ceiling as he lay beside her, an arm draped across her middle. She was tracing lazy patterns across his arm, from elbow to shoulder while she waited for sleep to claim her. She couldn't put a name to what she was feeling. She thought that she would feel more once this moment was finally upon them; instead she was feeling a little bereft. Sharon didn't know if that was a result of her own expectations or the doubts that were still occupying her mind, but it was a heavy emotion, and one that she wished that she could shake.

It wasn't that she hadn't enjoyed their evening, because she had. Rather thoroughly. Jack had made sure of that. They had spent most of the night relearning bodies that had changed since the last time that they shared a bed. There had been laughter and passion, and a little bit of fumbling as they coped with the fact that they were no longer twenty-five. She was also wishing that she had nothing to compare it to. There had been a time when her husband was the only man that she had ever had in her bed. That was simply not true now, and in spite of his efforts, and hers, she found herself comparing him to her most recent, and only other partner. It was good, but it wasn't spectacular. Sharon had somehow expected it to be better, given their history and relationship, and everything that went with a thirty-year marriage.

Sharon wondered if her problem was that she was not as emotionally invested in Jack as she used to be. She didn't want to think about that, because if that was the reason that she was still left a little wanting, then it meant that she was emotionally invested in Andy. Those were not thoughts that she wanted to entertain, not while her husband was laying in her bed, and certainly not when he was holding her as though she was the most important thing in his world.

She bit down on her bottom lip as she turned in his arms. She stared at the far wall, eyes stinging, and prayed for this feeling to leave her. She felt Jack's arm tighten around her. She closed her eyes and snuggled back into the warmth of his embrace. She heard the change in his breathing before she felt the caress of his fingers against her belly. Sharon hummed quietly and stroked the length of his arm.

"Okay?" His lips moved against her bare shoulder. She seemed restless. It was unlike her, or at least, what he remembered of her.

"Hm." Her eyes closed. "Yes." She pulled his arm around her and wriggled closer. "More than okay," she lied, and hoped that it sounded convincing.

"Sure?" He was already drifting off again, but Jack pressed a kiss to her neck.

"I'm sure," she said. "Just cold." A new wave of tears built behind her eyes when he shifted the blankets that were covering them to tuck them around her. He drew her legs into the tangle of his and shifted so that his warmth was surrounding her. "Better," she whispered, and hoped that he mistook the tremor in her tone for fatigue. She kept her eyes closed and concentrated on breathing. A few minutes later, she felt him relax against her back again. The snoring returned. Sharon decided that she needed more time. She needed more patience. How could she ask more of him than what he was already giving her?

She pushed all thoughts of Andy aside and told herself that she would not think about him again. It was her marriage that she was focused on now, and Jack need never know that she had thought of another man while he was holding her.

-TBC-