Innocent People's Lives

Chapter Seventeen

"My name?"

Lisa nodded again. "Yes."

"Why do you want to know that?"

"I know hardly anything about you. You're asking me to trust strangers with my life. It's hard enough trusting you at times. I want to know your name. If you can be honest with me and tell me your name, I will trust your men."

"That's silly."

"This whole arrangement is ridiculous."

He sighed at her. "You're going to get me killed, you do know that, right?"

"Why would I do that?"

"My name is classified, much like my job. But, fuck it, I already blew my cover once, huh?" He let out a small laugh. "But I will ignore you if you use it, understand?"

"Why?"

"For all intents and purposes, I am Jackson Rippner right now. Telling you my name changes none of that. I'm still in the middle of a highly sensitive investigation."

"Fine."

Jackson shook his head at her, cursing under his breath. "Fuck it, fuck it all. Danvers. My name is Ben Danvers."

"You don't seem like a Ben to me."

He shot her a look. "And you don't look like a Henrietta."

"That's my middle name."

"No, it's not, Leese. I saw your birth certificate. Your official name is Henrietta Lisa Reisert. Your parents put the wrong names on the wrong lines and you never bothered to fix it."

"How did you…?"

"CIA, remember? I know pretty much everything there is to know about you."

"Right," she said softly.

"Listen, we're going to end this. You'll be safe soon. I'll find a way to get you back to normal. I promise."

She touched his cheek. "I know you will."

"You trust me now?"

"Who else do I have left?

He sighed. "You'll be safe. It will be a small team, handpicked, full of only men I trust. I won't let anything happen to you. Hell, I don't even want you to go back to him."

"It's our best chance to get in the building."

"I don't want you going up against him unarmed."

"I won't be. I can handle a gun."

She could tell from the sudden lack of color in his cheeks that he remembered all too well when she picked up the gun and shot him in the chest. It sent a chill down her spine to remember their fight ten years ago.

"I'll make sure you have one."

"Thank you," she said again, closing the gap between them.

"Anything, Leese. You didn't deserve this."

"You didn't have to save me."

"I know. I wanted to."

She leaned up, on her toes, to kiss him on the lips.

Jackson stumbled back for a moment, surprised, before he put a hand on her waist, pulling her closer. She moaned into his lips.

His lips crashed into hers and she found her back pressed against the thin walls. She should've protested but she was beyond caring. She'd been fighting her attraction to this man for ten years. She was bound to lose her grip on her sanity eventually. She was beyond caring about appearances or right and wrong now.

Lisa wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. It was so wrong to want him.

His hands were hot, pushing her shirt up to rest on her sides, pulling her close. She wanted his touch. She wanted more.

"Leese…"

"Don't stop."

He kissed across her mouth to her ear, then down her neck, causing her to shiver in a good way. She tilted her head up, gasping.

The name he told her seemed all wrong for him. He would always be Rippner to her. "Jack," she breathed, her veins on fire.

He yanked her shirt up, one hand coming up to cup and squeeze her breast. His lips pressed against her ear. "All you have to do is tell me to stop."

"Don't… don't…"

She lifted her arms, helping him to yank her shirt off.

He let his hands drop, gripping her ass. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her bare arms around his neck. He undid the clasp of her bra with deft fingers as he carried her over to the bed.

With surprising gentleness, he lowered her onto the mattress. She kept her legs apart as he knelt between them, following her onto the bed. He used his hands to rid her of the unhooked bra, flinging it over his shoulder.

Cold air hit her chest and she squirmed a bit. His warm hands cupped her breasts, his thumb encircling her nipple. His eyes fell onto the old scar.

One long finger traced the mark. "Who did that to you?" he breathed.

"I don't know," she said softly, not wanting to think about that day. Not when she was here, with him. Not when she felt desired and cherished. Not when she might very well die in the days to come.

"They never found him?"

"No."

He nodded, then leaned forward and she felt his lips on the scar. He kissed and sucked the mark as if he could pull the pain away. As if he could make it disappear.

She moaned loudly, running her fingers through his thick hair. Her hips moved, angling up toward him. She wanted him. She knew she should hate him; should despise him after everything, but her body responded to Jackson in a way it hadn't for Mark or anyone else. She felt alive and on fire.

Then one of his hands dipped down the front of her jeans and she knew she was a goner.

Trust. He could see it in her eyes.

She trusted him with this. With herself. She started the kiss. She responded to each little movement. She was practically whimpered and they hadn't even done anything yet.

It was enough to make him wonder about her past lovers. Had Mark bothered to try and pleasure her? To get her engaged or had he just taken what he wanted? Had anyone?

He pressed his thumb against her clit and she bucked her hips. Jackson tried to contain the smirk he felt on his lips. She wanted him. After ten years of wanting her, it was finally mutual.

He slowed down, dragging her zipper down one click at a time. She whimpered at the torture that had yet to begin. She had no idea what she was in for. He was going to take his time with her. Tonight it was just about them. No Keefe. No CIA. No tomorrow.

Lisa lifted her hips and he tugged her jeans over her slim hips. Light freckles dotted her skin and he bent down to kiss one on her thigh.

"Jack…" she begged.

He slid his hand underneath her underwear. "Hmm?"

"Please…"

"Please, what?"

"I need you."

He kissed her lips. She was wet between her legs, so wet, so ready. But he wasn't going to push it. He was going to savor these moments. He was going to savor her.

He slipped a finger inside her, tearing a moan from her lips. She was on the edge and he'd barely touched her. He couldn't help the smile this time.

"You like that?"

She nodded her head, glancing up at him. "More…"

He obliged, adding a second finger, stretching her. Her hips rocked against his hand.

They didn't speak for several minutes as he used his fingers to pleasure her. He listened to her little sounds, then felt her tense around his fingers.

She grabbed his shirt in her fists, tugging him closer as her orgasm hit. She cried his name out, her hips stilling in the movement.

He kissed her hard, swallowing her cries. She didn't seem to mind; she was just as hungry now, no longer sated by his hand.

"I need you," she breathed, their lips millimeters apart.

Her hands reached for his shirt and he sat up. In a quick motion, he pulled the cotton undershirt off. He hadn't bothered with a button-down today.

He saw her freeze, saw the questions in her eyes, and began to wonder if this was the biggest mistake of his life.

In the entire time they'd been together, she had never once seen him without a shirt off. Not so much as a glimpse.

Now she understood.

His chest, which was virtually hairless and smooth, was littered with scars of various sizes and healing. Her fingers touched the two she'd left first – the gunshots from her and her dad. But there were dozens more. Slashes, like a knife. Small, sharp ones that looked like he'd been stabbed. Others that looked like shots. A roadmap of violence.

He sat between her legs, unmoving. Vulnerable.

She traced them, one at a time, seeing him occasionally flinch or hearing him take a quick hisslike breath in, as if she'd hurt him. The shadow she used to fear, a man she thought mechanical and uncaring, was really just human. He had been hurt, like her. He bled, just like her. He was flesh and bone.

Lisa reached for his zipper. He cocked his head at her, almost as if he were surprised.

She kissed his lips as if to reassure him, no words, and pulled the zipper down. She undid the top button of his jeans.

He still didn't move as she pushed his pants down further, seeing his erection straining against his briefs. She yanked both waistbands down, freeing him.

"Jack, please…" she said, grabbing one of his hands and putting it on her hip.

He seemed to wake up from his trance then. Slowly, so goddamn slowly, he kicked off his pants and briefs. He lifted her further up the bed, her head braced against a pillow. With his left hand, he tugged her underwear, pulling the cotton panties down her legs.

Her heart pounded in her chest, naked and bare beneath him. Vulnerable.

He stroked her hair as he moved up the bed, her legs spread to either side of him. Her breath quickened.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No, no…" She put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "No, you're not."

He kissed her deeply as he slipped inside her, inch by inch. Slow and deliberate.

It didn't hurt. Not like it had with Mark. They fit together, her and Jackson. He cared about her, something she still didn't understand. She almost didn't believe it; that this was real.

He moved inside her, in and out, still slow. Too slow.

She hooked a leg around his waist, pulling him closer as her hips moved with him, adjusting to his rhythm. "More…"

He increased his pace, but only just a bit. She pumped her hips against him, trying to urge him faster. "Leese…"

"Harder, Jack…"

He thrust into her, filling her, deeper, harder, faster. She moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders. He increased the pace without any urging this time.

She was lost in the sensations, completely overwhelmed. She barely noticed her second orgasm building until it hit and she screamed out, "Jack!"

He moved inside her like a madman now. It should've hurt, but it felt good. So damn good.

She locked her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, her hips moving in time to this thrusts. He groaned, and she knew he was close.

She knew it.

One last thrust and he came hard.

Panting and shaking, she brushed the hair from his eyes as he collapsed on his elbows, their chests pressed together. She kissed him.

"Jack… Jack…"

"God, Leese…"

He rolled onto his back beside her, panting as hard as her. She shifted onto her side, placing her head on his chest. His heart thumped loudly under her ear.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he breathed.

She didn't respond, already drifting off against his chest. She felt one of his arms wrap around her as she fell asleep.

Author's Notes:

Worth the wait? I had notes on the outline that this was only supposed to be a makeout session with actual sex later and said, nah, might as well. You're welcome. This is what happens when I'm snowed in with close to three feet of snow.

Also, psst, next two chapters are written and ready to go... working on chapter 20 right now and getting closer to the end. Looks like there will be about 22-23 chapters, maybe as many as 25. I'm using my snow days to my advantage. You may all thank Snowzilla. And the fact that I moved a Zune charger beside the bed so yay, music. (Yes, I still use a Zune. Apple products do not like me. They don't. Microsoft and I get along. I'm using my Surface right now to write and post this.) So for the next few days, I hope to post once a day or every other day. Though, heads up, next week I have like three meetings to go to and participate in... which will cut into my writing time. That said, I hope to have this story done by Valentine's Day.

Thanks for reading and please review!