* * *
Jean-Pierre came strolling into the choir loft just before closing time. "Monsieur Jack, I have a favor to ask of you, if I may."
Distracted from trying to coax his sugarplum into a ride in the Silver Pony without actually telling her what it was, Jack shot him a cocky grin. "After what you did? Fire away, partner."
"Would you be so kind as to take our Marissa home? Her roadster is, alas, still in the shop."
Jack grinned. "That'd be you doin' me another favor, partner."
Jean-Pierre arched a sardonic eyebrow at Jack. "So? I shall remember you owe me two then, mon frère. But off you go, lovers, s'il vous plaît."
Marissa giggled. "We've been dismissed, cowboy, and unless you like being smacked on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper, I'd suggest we go."
Jack stood up, conscious he was about to get Marissa entirely to himself for the first time all night, and entirely happy about it. Even making out in the wine cellar, he was well aware anyone could have walked in on them any time...
"Whatever you say, sugarplum."
Jean-Pierre was still watching them with an evaluating eye, so Jack played the perfect gentleman and swathed Marissa in her wool coat, made sure her gloves were tucked in the pocket, and only then snagged his coat and hat off the hat rack. With an arm around her waist they headed for the stairs, and as they passed Jean-Pierre, the suave Frenchman leaned over and brushed a kiss over Marissa's cheek, and to Jack's vast surprise, did the same to him.
"Sleep well, my darlings," Jean-Pierre said, in such a doting tone Jack warmed towards him even more. Here was someone who loved Marissa as much as... Jack caught himself mid-thought. Someone who loved Marissa as much as he did -he really was falling head over heels for this woman- and without even thinking when Marissa brushed a kiss over Jean-Pierre's cheek in return, Jack did the same with the other.
Jean-Pierre's eyebrows both shot up in surprise, but a small, satisfied smile curved his lips and his gaze softened. "Truly, you have chosen well, chérie."
Jack grinned wickedly and tipped his Stetson at him as they left. "Glad you approve, partner."
* * *
When they reached the Corvette, Jack took a moment before he pulled out of the parking space and eased Marissa into his arms for a long, unhurried kiss. The choir loft was very comfortable, but Jack really preferred privacy for romance, and that idiot diFalco had ogled them shamelessly for the rest of the night.
Jean-Pierre was right, Jack reflected as he eased Marissa's mouth open and coaxed her tongue into dancing with his, deFlea really was a cretin... and then shelved the whole problem until tomorrow, because for the first time in twenty years there was a woman in his arms he wanted to make love to, not fuck, and the prospect left him awash in longing.
After ten minutes of shameless, old-school making out, Jack finally broke the kiss regretfully, because God damn if he didn't want to be doing this in her bed, instead of a car. Marissa seemed to share his reluctance, because she brushed a last kiss over his lower lip that nearly undid him all over again.
"How long does it take to get to your house, sugarplum?" he asked her, his voice low and husky with raw hunger.
"With or without obeying the speed limits?" she replied lightly, but her voice was still breathless and it did things to Jack.
Jack turned the key and the Corvette's engine roared obligingly as he backed out of the parking space. "Without- because I ain't got that kind of patience right now, darlin'."
"Twenty-five minutes."
"I can beat that time," Jack muttered, and floored the accelerator.
* * *
"Nineteen minutes," Marissa observed, checking her watch as the security door rattled down behind them. Jack didn't get fancy and just pulled the Corvette into the same space she left it parked in last night, and somehow resisted the urge to kiss her again in the damn car and got them both to the elevator.
"Wait," Marissa said as she leaned on his shoulder and pressed her thumb on the fingerprint scanner.
Jack jerked up short, crestfallen. "You change your mind, sugarplum?" He tried to restrain the disappointment in his voice and failed utterly.
"Not a chance, cowboy," Marissa murmured, sounding amused as she brushed another kiss across his jawline, and succeeded in briefly distracting him as she reached out and pushed on one of the ornate tiles in the mosaic surrounding the elevator doors.
The tile clicked, recessed, and slid back to reveal a touchscreen that lit up. The outline of a thumbprint scanner appeared on the screen, as did a tiny keyboard setting, and Marissa took Jack's hand gently and pressed his right thumb onto the thumbprint scanner. It chirped obligingly and a text line appeared.
Add new thumbprint?
Marissa tapped out 'yes' on the keyboard.
Add new security profile?
She tapped 'yes' again.
Enter name appeared on the display.
She tapped in 'Jack Daniels'.
Enter passcode flashed up next.
She considered it a moment, then typed in 'sugarplum' with a rueful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Nine letters," she commented. "Good choice, cowboy."
"Glad you approve, sugarplum." Chuckling, Jack wrapped both arms around her waist, rested his chin on her shoulder and just watched, conscious he was having more fun than he had in an age. He'd been an agent so long, he practically forgot what it felt like to be to be surprised by someone else's technology.
Enter voiceprint appeared next and Marissa just cocked her head and looked up at him, her eyes dancing.
Several responses flashed through Jack's mind but one stood out with such clarity Jack refused to consider the long-term implications of what he was about to say... and just said it.
"I love you, sugarplum," Jack said clearly, and watched as her eyes went huge- with startled hope, he was very glad to see.
The screen flashed Voiceprint accepted- new security profile saved and the tile that concealed it clicked again and slid shut. Once closed, Jack could not see the slightest trace of its presence, it was absolutely identical to all the other tiles.
"Hope it's not too soon to say that," Jack murmured, and as the elevator doors slid open they practically fell into the elevator as Marissa pulled his head down to hers and kissed him with something that felt too close to desperation to sit quite right with Jack.
Bothered by it for some reason he couldn't put a finger on, as the elevator door chimed and opened on the third floor Jack picked Marissa up, carrying her like a bride over the threshold to her bedroom, and set her very gently back on her feet by the side of her bed.
"Did I spook you, sugarplum?" Jack murmured, his thumbs caressing her face. "I'm goin' kinda fast when ya asked to take it slow."
Marissa shook her head, but her eyes were troubled and Jack wanted that hesitation gone before he made love to her.
"Talk to me, sugarplum," he coaxed, his hands impossibly tender as he stroked her hair away from her face so he could see her clearly.
"Did... did you mean that?" Hope and fear were twined together in her voice and showed clearly in those storm-gray eyes.
"I never say anythin' I don't mean," Jack told her, letting the longing in his voice come through clearly as he eased her closer. "I don't know what you see in this old cowboy, but I ain't felt like this in twenty years. If you want it, this battered old heart is yours."
"I want it," she said softly. "I want you, Jack."
Jack trailed a line of slow kisses down her neck as one arm encircled her waist and the other hand cupped the back of her head, holding her steady as he nuzzled the soft hollow of her throat. "Can I make love to you, sugarplum? All night long?"
Marissa shuddered with longing at the heated hunger in his voice. "Yes."
* * *
Jack took his time. He wanted to enjoy every second of this first time to the fullest, and while he might have rushed getting them to this point, now that they were here he was content to savor each perfect moment.
Jack peeled her clothes off, one by one, kissing each new inch of skin as he exposed it, and then let Marissa watch as he stripped for her, and seeing her eyes grow dark with longing -for him- made his heart hurt. When they were both naked, he picked her up again just long enough to lay her down in that wonderful bed, and the sensation as the silk curtains brushed closed over his bare back and enclosed them in their own little world was nothing less than exquisite.
Jack was a skilled lover -most agents were, really- but his mind utterly rebelled at using his usual seduction techniques now. He didn't want Marissa screaming his name, he wanted her to whisper it against his lips with all the love in the world. And so he cradled her body against his like the precious jewel she was, and explored her like a fantastic new world.
She liked to be touched, Jack realized immediately, which was very nice, and so he caressed her body, learning her reactions and memorizing every one. Stroking her back made her purr and stretch against him, kissing her fingertips made her giggle in delight and snuggle closer, while suckling her nipples left her breathless. She was ticklish at the spot where hip met thigh, and Jack spent a little extra time there teasing out with his tongue just where that ticklish spot began and ended, on both the right side and the left, but he could feel the heat of her against his cheek and he stroked his fingers through the soft curls there, breathing in the scent of her arousal. It was warm and spicy-sweet, and reminded him of some dark spice like cinnamon or cardamom.
Jack wanted to taste her, feast on that sweetness until she came, but he raised his head and met her eyes first. They were black as a thunderhead in the darkness, but shining with what Jack realized with an aching heart was love- for him.
"I wanna taste you, sugarplum," he murmured, his fingers teasing those curls and feeling her body heat even more under his touch, "can I?"
Marissa ran her fingers through his hair, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp, the caress arousing him even more. "Yes," she breathed.
Jack let his fingers part those soft folds and move deeper, into the warm wet heat that embraced his touch. It was surprisingly hard to tear his eyes away from hers, and it came to Jack with absolute clarity he wanted to be looking right into those beautiful eyes when they came together as one.
But for now... he leaned down and parted that delicate flesh with his tongue, feeling her shudder with reaction as he did. It was gorgeously, deliriously arousing to taste her, and Jack enjoyed exploring her reactions here even more than before. Suckling, nibbling, teasing, all elicited new soft sighs and cries, but the first long, strong lick made her breath catch, and Jack decided he liked that best. He rested his head on her thigh and treated her like an ice-cream cone, licking away each sweet drop that appeared, savoring her, luxuriating in her growing passion, until when she was so close he could tease her no longer, he fastened his mouth over that pretty pulsing core and sucked- hard.
Her body arched into a bow as she cried out and came, and Jack drank her down like the finest whiskey, chasing every last drop because damn it, he wanted all of her. Every last taste.
Grinning in smug self-satisfaction as Marissa collapsed back against the sheets, Jack nuzzled her navel affectionately as he kissed his way back up her body. She was breathless, her lovely throat and chest flushed pink, and Jack had to stop and suckle those lovely breasts again. They both really liked that.
Jack stretched out beside Marissa and pulled her into his arms with a contented sigh, stroking her hair away from her face -there was so much of it and it did just go everywhere- before he kissed her.
"Show-off," she muttered irrepressibly, and Jack laughed and kissed her until she was breathless again.
"Guess this old cowboy's still got what it takes, eh, sugarplum?" Jack teased, but Marissa turned the tables on him when her fingers brushed across his chest and found his flat brown nipples. The breath hissed out of his lungs and Jack couldn't take his eyes off Marissa as her head dipped down and she tasted his.
"Sugar," Jack said, his fingers stroking the dimly shining hair spilling across his chest, his heart aching at making love for the first time since his wife died. "Sugarplum, tell me you're real. Tell me this isn't a dream."
"It's not a dream, Jack," she whispered, her lips moving against his skin. "It's real. What's between us is real."
That was too much, and Jack rolled over onto his side and gathered Marissa close with unsteady hands as his mouth fastened on hers. He pulled her leg over his hip and they slid together easily with a single move, and Jack got his wish because Marissa couldn't tear her eyes away as they joined. And once he was all the way inside her, when he could go no deeper, Jack stopped, and with his hand splayed at the base of her spine, just held her there for a long, long moment. He touched her face with the other, tracing the curve of her cheekbone, marveling at the perfection of it all, at how utterly right it felt to be here, now.
Jack drew her head down until her forehead touched his, and he didn't have a clue how Marissa understood what he was feeling, but the look in her eyes was the same baffled, desperate, disbelieving hope that Jack knew was written all over his face. Her mouth reached for his and they began to move, and Jack could only hold her close, lost in the rhythm they made together; and when he felt Marissa shudder and come around him, Jack breathed her name as she whispered his, and came with her.
* * *
When Jack came back to himself, he was lying on his side, still buried all the way in Marissa, her head cradled against his and feeling her breath against his cheek.
"I love you, sugarplum," Jack murmured. "You mind getting used to hearing that?"
Marissa smiled, Jack could feel her lips move against his skin. "I'll never get used to it, cowboy," she said softly. "I don't want to. I want feel like this every time you say it."
She undid him all over again, and Jack groaned and kissed her, and he was too damn old to be hardening inside her already, but apparently he hadn't sent his body the memo, because he was, and who the hell cared anyway?
"Sugarplum, you do things to me," Jack told her, even as his hands slid down to cup her buttocks.
"I'm about to," she said, kissing his throat as her fingers found his nipples again, and his eyes nearly crossed when she squeezed him lightly down there, and his hands tightened on her hips as she took him up again.
* * *
The third time was need so raw-edged it was almost frightened them both, and the rhythm they made kept time with hammering heartbeats and desperate attempts to become one. Jack couldn't get deep enough in her, and Marissa's legs were locked around his waist in a futile attempt to pull him closer, and when they came they just clung tighter, conscious they were caught in this emotional storm together. As long they were joined, they could ride it out together, and riding the storm out was glorious...
* * *
Jack didn't have the slightest inkling what time it was when Marissa coaxed him out of bed and into a delightfully spacious walk-in shower, tiled in dazzling Florentine mosaics that glutted his eyes with color and texture. And after he teasingly soaped her clean, and she did the same to him, Marissa slid down his body, water running over her, and Jack leaned back against the tile and groaned her name, his hands buried to the wrists in her streaming hair as she sucked him into coming again.
* * *
They lost count after the shower, and the cool of the bathroom floor tiles pulled the heat from their bodies as they made love on a heap of damp towels, too impatient to reach the bed, and Jack looked up at Marissa, marveling at her beauty as she moved, and pushing up, did his best to impale her on him, his hands still holding tight to her hips.
* * *
They made it back to the bed after that, and their caresses were slow, and sleepy, but even drowsy and satiated, Jack wanted her and Marissa wanted him, and so they fucked slowly, dreamily, aware this one was purely for pleasure, to glut themselves on how good it felt, and at last after coming again they slept, still tangled together, lost in dreams.
* * *
Old habits woke Jack in the thin gray light of pre-dawn, because this was the point where he would usually slip out of whatever -or whoever's- bed he was in, to be gone before his companion of the night before woke up.
Marissa was asleep beside him, her head pillowed on his chest, her hair spilling over his shoulder and across the pillow. It smelled faintly of orange blossoms, and made Jack think of the spring he staked out a citrus orchard in Florida, and spent sixteen days breathing that heavenly aroma until he would know it anywhere for the rest of his life.
Jack reached over and stroked her cheek, brushing a stray lock of hair away, and watched her sleep. Contentment so bone-deep he could hardly believe it permeated him, mind and body, heart and soul. For the first time in years Jack was content, happy to be just where he was, because there was no place he would rather be. His mind turned to the memory of his wife and son, and it came to Jack with odd clarity on Día de los Muertos Marissa would want to visit that grave, and share the memories of his lost ones, and leave his wife her favorite flowers. She would celebrate their memory, not mourn it or try to erase it... she would honor his dead.
Jack leaned over and kissed her forehead. After all this time, long after he abandoned any hope, love came stealing back into his life and lighting it up again. He didn't deserve it, but she was here all the same... and he was never, ever letting go of this second chance.
Marissa shifted in her sleep and gently, so not to wake her, Jack gathered her closer until he was wrapped right around her, and breathing in the scent of orange blossoms in springtime, he sank back to sleep.
* * *