Live and Die Hard

4. Paris.

*5 years earlier*

Her long hair was damp and tangled from dancing, locks sticking on her shoulder and neck. Jack followed the trail of a single sweatdrop that landed on the top of her upper lip.

She stared at him, her hips sealed to his thighs, swaying to the music. The way she licked that fucking single drop turned him painfully on.
She'd been teasing him for weeks, and he was so close to losing control.

They had settled their luggage and asses down in the suite française of the Ritz 5 weeks ago.
Shade took the King size bed, flopping onto her back, kicking off her shoes.

"OK, let's say I take the sofa." Jack sighed.

"You are, gentleman. Now get out of my sight. I don't want you to sneak around while I'm changing and don't you dare be sticking your nose in my bras and panties drawer or I'll kill you."

Jack fainted to be shocked. Though he really was. Picturing Shade in black laced underwearwas mouth watering. He shrugged and nodded his head no and left Mrs Princess Sinclair alone. He had the sofa to test and a cold shower to take.

She had been boringly professional, barely talking to him the solid first week. Giving him annoyed looks and cold shoulder each time he tried to break the ice with her.
Icecube was actually a fitting nickname.

She rolled her eyes when he asked to have a walk outside and flipped the bird when he objected they were in fucking Paris and had at one point to stick their noses outside.
She sighed heavily when he wanted to take her out for dinner.
She even didn't lift her head from the French dictionary she was studying when he proposed a trip to the Eiffel tower.
He gave up and went back to studying files, monitoring the whereabouts of their goals, taking notes and writing reports for the French cops.
He forced himself in thousands push ups to kill time and cool down; Shade was purposely wandering across the suite wearing only a towel barely covering her ass, or stunning fancy outfits when they had to go out to keep a watch on the Italians.

Bored to watch some shit on TV and have no conversation with her, Jack took the healthy decision to take a run and some fresh air.

Being stuck behind walls with that damn sexy but stubborn and 'friendly as a jail's wall' woman, pissed him off. He had to admit he was somehow becoming addict to her, her pretty nose, her endless thighs, her fucking green glare, so much it became hard to breathe the same air.

He became used to put sweatpants and hoodie on after dinner and run in Paris' streets until he got lost.
Back home, covered in sweat, his eyes were always searching for her, sometimes meeting first her ass, up in some yoga position. His relaxed body tensed again and he had no choice but lock his poor self in the bathroom. Cold water cascading on his tensed body, Jack forced himself to find some kind of release.

And one night, it finally happened. Shade was waiting for him, moulded in a stunning outfit, absolutely mind blowing.

"Are you in the mood for nightclubbing? " she just asked.

Now he was standing painfully in front of this dreamy mermaid, moulded on his thigh, begging him to take her right here right now.

Jack grabbed her hips, pulling her waist impossibly closer to his. His hands wandered in the small of her back and he had to hold back the urge to take a handful of her bottom cheeks. His eyes roamed over her face and neck, daring a glance to her breasts, bouncing with each step. He leant over her face, closing the distance, their foreheads touching. Her scent was intoxicating and his mouth went dry.
The flashes of lights coming from the ceiling lit sparkled in her green eyes.
She licked then bit her lower lip and Jack could taste his own metallic drool.
His heart hammered in his chest, almost breaking his ribs.

She let her hands run up his chest then laced her fingers behind his neck, pulling him to her lips, sensually swaying to the music. She stuck her tongue out and trailed a hot path up his neck, then whispered in his ear.

"Enjoying the night Honey?"

"Fuck Shade. You're driving me crazy. What do you want from me?" His lips were burning, screaming their need to go home, on Shade's.

"Do you think I've been sent here to have some honeymoon with you?" She said, her tone viciously sexy.

"Cause I'm not. I watched the way you've been staring at me since we were forced to work together. Since we've been introduced at McKay's office actually."
Her eyes were black as she gave him a piece of her mind.

"I won't fall for you Jack. We have a mission and I need to stay focus on our task. I can't have you distracting me. So stop grinding your stick on my thigh and let's stay professional."

Shade tip toed to level his mouth, even perched on her stilettos; he's still taller than her. She drew the outline of his lips with her tongue, then grabbed his lower lip and bit hard, almost to blood.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm heading home. I need a long shower to get rid of all that sweat and want nothing more than slide under my sheets, wearing nothing but that wedding ring you gave me."

Turning on her heels, she glanced a last time at him, a devilish smile on her lips. His painful expression would have her laughing for days.
She walked through the dancing crowd, swaying her hips exaggeratedly, her cheeks and perfect lines stuck in that fucking tight red dress.

Holy shit! What has she done to me?

Cursing himself and his damn rock hard cock, he tilted his head back and swallowed a big gulp of air, trying to get rid of his shaft.
BITCH!

She had woken up a beast inside him for days, and had played with him all night long. Jack ran his sweaty palms through his hair, intertwining them behind his head and bowed down, hoping he would be able to walk again soon.