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Disclaimer: The characters of Jarod, Miss Parker, Sydney, and Broots are not my own. They are the property of Craig and Steve and heaven knows who else. I am just borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes because I feel really sorry for Miss Parker, who, in any just and sane universe, should have had an opportunity to have her way with her hot little lab rat. (Shame on you, Craig and Steve, shame on you!) By the way, no money is changing hands here and no infringement is intended so please don't sue me. Other characters depicted here are my own (well, sort of: Dinah Roberts, you know who you are...;-).
Warning: This one rates *****NC-17***** for consensual male/female sexual situations. (J/MP, of course. Is there other kind?)
Author's Note: This was inspired by an image of beauty I was lucky enough to receive via email a few weeks back.
Untitled
By Ginger
Rocky Neck Art Colony
Gloucester, Massachusetts
Jarod hummed in approbation as he chewed another piece of salt-water taffy, peanut butter this time. He was enjoying a balmy summer afternoon: consuming a bag of his latest discovery while strolling around the pier and looking at the lovely artwork on display. As one might expect given the location, most of the artists were exhibiting paintings of seascapes, lighthouses, and other features of this beautiful stretch of the New England Coast. He walked a little farther down the pier and something caught his eye, a pretty, tanned woman with sun-streaked hair was displaying drawings. And there wasn't a seagull or a lighthouse among them: they were all classical nudes.
He strolled up to her table and met her eyes. She gave him a courteous smile before turning away to fish something out of her bag. His eyes roamed the exquisite drawings scattered before him until they fell upon one in particular: it was of a sitting woman and drawn from a perspective that fell somewhere between a back view and a profile. She was leaning back on her right arm with her palm pressed to surface on which she was sitting. She wasn't alone. Between her bent and parted knees reclined a man who clung to her, his arms winding around her torso, both palms resting on her back. His head was burrowing into her body, occupying an expanse that reached from right beneath her breasts to her hips. His face was pointed downward, his lips coming to rest on the top of her right thigh, just below the junction with her torso.
The drawing captivated Jarod; he couldn't seem to take his eyes off it. It touched him and something about it made his heart ache. It was an all too familiar sensation these days; a yearning he'd experienced ever since... He sighed then realized the artist was addressing him. He looked up and met her eyes again, this time long enough to note that they were lovely eyes that exuded both warmth and intelligence. Strong and soft, he thought. She's seen things and KNOWS people; she's nobody's fool. He smiled and offered, "I'm sorry, did you say something?"
"No apology required; I like to give people space when they're viewing my work. I was just saying that something about that one..." She motioned to the drawing of the couple. "Obviously speaks to you. I hope you don't mind my saying so and please don't misinterpret my meaning. I don't engage in 'hard sell' tactics. But you should've seen your face when you looked at it."
"It's beautiful," Jarod remarked wistfully, his eyes drifting down to the drawing once more.
"It's yours," she responded warmly.
He looked up at her again and she nodded. He gave her one of his trademark smiles and, with a small sigh she asked, "What's your name?"
"Jarod. And I'll be more than willing to pay whatever you're asking for such a lovely..."
"No, Jarod, that one was meant for you and, since it's mine to give, consider it a gift."
"Actually... it's intended... for someone else," he explained, coloring slightly and looking at his shoes.
"I figured as much," she replied with a kind smile and a nod as she reached over to grab the drawing. "Doesn't matter, though, your money is no good here."
"What's your name? You don't seem to have it displayed here anywhere."
Rolling up the drawing, she replied with a chuckle, "I guess I still haven't mastered that whole self-promotion thing." Holding out a hand, she added, "My name is Dinah. Dinah Roberts."
Taking her hand, Jarod replied, "Hello, Dinah, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"How shall I wrap this up for you? Will you be carrying it with you or shipping it?"
"Well, Dinah, since you mentioned it." Jarod spoke in a conspiratorial tone. "I'd like to ask you a favor."
"A favor? Sure. As long as..." The artist's gaze traveled the length of his body, all the way down and back up again, before she met his eyes and grinned wickedly. "You'd be willing to do me one in return."
* * * *
Two Days Later
"Man, I wish I brought Debbie with me; this place is great!" Broots declared as he looked around him. "Did you see the statue of that sea captain guy as we drove into town, you know, the guy from the fish sticks box? You think they make them here? Debbie and I just love 'em."
"Sydney, please make him shut up or I won't be responsible for my actions," Parker spat as she strode determinedly up the pier. Sydney said nothing in response but simply shrugged and cast a sympathetic look at his crestfallen colleague.
The artist looked up to see the trio approaching and muttered under her breath, "Well, look what we have here."
Charging up to the table, Miss Parker adopted her most intimidating demeanor and, shoving a photograph at Dinah, demanded, "Have you seen this man?"
Not in the least bit intimidated, but taking the photo from her anyway, Dinah sighed and replied, "Yes, Miss Parker, I have." She then looked up and, handing the photo back to Parker, nodded cordially and addressed the other two, "Sydney... Mr. Broots."
Broots looked at the drawings and, blushing, observed, "They're all..."
"Nude, Broots, just like all those pictures you download from the Internet, only this is art," Parker quipped.
"But I don't..." he started to protest as Sydney looked on in amusement.
Ignoring him, Parker redirected her attention to the woman in front of her. With a sigh of impatience, she asked, "Did he say what he was doing here, how long he planned to be in the area, or where he was staying?"
"I don't know what he was doing here but, by the looks of it, he was just taking it easy. He didn't say where he was staying and I didn't ask. As for how long he'd be in the area, I have no idea, although he didn't appear to be in any hurry." Dinah's eyes glittered as she looked squarely into Parker's and continued, "After all, he had five hours to spare to model for me."
"He WHAT!" Parker exclaimed, wide-eyed, as she unconsciously scanned the drawings. Broots fidgeted nervously and Sydney looked pensive.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you won't find any of those drawings here, Miss Parker," Dinah commented wryly. Parker's head shot up and she glared at her.
Clearing his throat, Sydney asked, "Was it his idea to model for you or was it yours?"
"I asked if he would and he said yes."
"And, how do you think he found the experience? Did he appear comfortable?"
"He was a little shy at first." Dinah smiled as she recalled their afternoon together. "But he relaxed pretty quickly and did a splendid job. As a model, he's a natural."
"I'm sure," Parker remarked caustically, adding wearily, "Do you have any idea what his plans might be?"
"Sorry, I can't help you. Again, I didn't ask and he didn't say," Dinah chirped.
"Well, that's it then, he's long gone," Parker announced as she turned to leave, adding, "Probably in Timbuktu by now. I'm out of here!"
"Oh, Miss Parker," Dinah called after her as she reached behind the table to retrieve a package. "You wouldn't want to leave without this, would you?"
* * * *
Parker paced her hotel room like a caged tiger, stopping occasionally to glance at the wrapped package on the bed. She hadn't opened it in front of Sydney and Broots because she'd suspected what it contained. And neither of them had mentioned it on the drive back to the hotel, most likely for the same reason. She'd been back in her room a half hour and hadn't managed to open it yet.
Jarod had pulled a lot of shit over the years but never anything like this: giving her a nude drawing of himself. Why on earth would he do such a thing? Clearly, it was to humiliate her, but that didn't make any sense. Things between them had changed recently; she couldn't deny it. So what on earth did he hope to achieve? One fundamental fact of their lives hadn't changed: he ran and she chased. And he had to keep on running, and she chasing, for either of them to have any hope of survival.
She stopped at the foot of the bed and stood motionless for a time, just staring at the package for what seemed like ages. Finally, she groaned and muttered, "Get a fucking grip, Parker!" then leaned forward to unwrap it. As she gazed at the framed drawing, her breath caught and she unconsciously brought a hand to her lips. Tears welled in her wide eyes.
* * * *
Concerned, Sydney knocked harder a second time. "Miss Parker, are you in there?" he called softly through the door. "Is everything alrig"
"
The door opened slowly and she peered out at him, blinking. It was obvious that she had been crying. Sydney silently chided his protégé as he stepped into the room and carefully closed the door behind him: I know you have the best of intentions, Jarod, but sometimes you push her too hard.
Parker slumped down on the bed and sighed, motioning listlessly at the drawing as she stared off into space. Sydney approached the bed and looked at it, emitting a small gasp at the sensual beauty he beheld. He thought fleetingly of Michelle and of everything that was taken from him and smiled sadly.
"What do you think it means, Sydney?" Parker asked him in a small voice, sounding more vulnerable to him than she had at any time since she was a child.
Sitting down beside her, he carefully took her hand in his and said, "I know you don't like to discuss what happened between the two of you on Carthis, but he may be sending you a message about the evolution of your relationship."
Meeting his eyes, she challenged, "But there is no evolution, Syd! That's what the alleged 'genius' can't seem to get through that thick skull of his! It was just a..." Her voice became softer. "Moment... of weakness..."
He sighed and nodded, having finally received confirmation of his suspicions, after several months of silence on the topic from both parties concerned. Seeing this, Parker felt compelled to explain,
"W... we didn't... I mean, it was a very dangerous situation and we spent the entire time searching for the scrolls and doing our damnedest to stay alive." Into her mind wandered the unspoken addendum to that statement: we would have, though, had we been granted the opportunity.
Squeezing her hand reassuringly, Sydney soothed, "It's okay, Parker, I understand, but you do not owe me, or anyone, an explanation. You are adults and the changing dynamics of your relationship is something to be worked out between the two of you."
"You're not hearing me, Syd. There are no changing dynamics because there is no relationship. He runs; I chase. That's it: end of story. You were there when m..." She gave a small shudder and continued, "When Raines issued that warning. The only way to survive is to hunt Jarod." She sighed. "And pray that Lyle never succeeds in capturing him." With a small, knowing smile she added, "Fortunately, in a contest between those two, I'd put my money on Jarod any day."
"Don't you see, Parker, if you are now willing to voice such sentiments, then your relationship with Jarod HAS INDEED changed! Perhaps, more to the point, YOU have changed! Even though the Centre continues to dictate the practical matters of your daily lives, don't you think it's time you STOPPED letting them arbitrate your relationship with the ONE person who's known you longer and better than anyone else? They may still control what you DO day in and day out, but you mustn't permit them to control the way you FEEL. Don't let them define who you are, Parker, because you are so much MORE than what they've tried to make you."
Parker was feeling rather short on witty retorts just then and didn't respond. An awkward silence fell and she glanced down to find that Sydney now held her hand in both of his. She looked up into his eyes, those warm, intelligent eyes she'd grown so fond of in recent years, and appeared about to speak when there was a knock on the door.
"Miss P?"
Slipping her hand out of Sydney's, she called out, "Just a minute, Broots," then quickly stood and strode across the room to open the door.
Sauntering into the room he announced, "Since we've come up. He He glanced over Sydney's shoulder at the framed drawing and squinted to make out the image. Parker caught his gaze and tossed her jacket over it. He cleared his throat and continued, "Empty handed here... We've been called back home. So I guess we're checking out."
"Correction," Parker stated evenly, "YOU'RE checking out and heading back to Blue Cove. I'm staying here for a day or so."
To Broots's inquisitive stare, she replied, "Need I remind you that we are currently competing with my evil twin in a life and death game of 'catch the lab rat.' I think it's time we alter our strategy in the hunt for Jarod. I'll stay behind and see if I can learn anything else. Meanwhile, you and Syd can get back to work and resume your analysis of Jarod's recent activities. Perhaps a division of labor will produce better results. What do you think, Sydney?" she inquired as she met his eyes.
Smiling and resting his chin in his hand, he nodded and concurred, "I think that's very wise, Miss Parker. And I'm sure Raines will agree when Mr. Broots and I explain it to him."
Broots emitted a whimper and looked pleadingly, first at Parker then at Sydney, who patted him amiably on the shoulder and instructed, "Come on, Broots, we'd better get packed and be on our way. We'll be home in a few hours and you'll be able to have dinner with Debbie tonight. Everything will be just fine."
Following the younger man out of the room, Sydney stopped in the doorway and turned to gaze back at Parker, who said, "Twenty fours hours, Syd, that's all I'll need." He nodded and turned to leave again when she stopped him.
"And Sydney..." He glanced back at her.
"Thank you," she mouthed.
He cast her a warm, slightly lingering, smile then stepped out of the room and pulled the door softly closed behind him.
* * * *
Dinah raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms at her chest, a small smile tugging at her lips when she saw Parker approaching for a second time that day. The woman's demeanor was quite different this time, softer, and as anticipated, she was alone. The artist scrutinized her, thinking, it isn't enough that she gets to have those legs, but she also gets to have... She sighed and shrugged. Something about the sharp-tongued, leggy brunette made it impossible for Dinah to dislike her, as much as she'd wanted to. Superficial evidence to the contrary, she could sense that Parker's life had been far from charmed.
"Hello, again, Miss Parker," Dinah offered genially.
"Hello, Miss..." Parker replied then emitted a wry chuckle. "I guess I wasn't very thorough this morning."
"Roberts, Dinah Roberts. Please, call me Dinah."
"Everyone calls me Parker."
"Everyone?" the artist asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow.
"Everyone," Parker replied solemnly.
"Well, Parker, what can I do for you?"
"I... I was wondering... Did he say anything to you about it... about the drawing?"
"He said it was beautiful," Dinah responded wistfully.
"It is. You are very talented," Parker observed. "I mean, did he say anything about WHY he wanted ME to have it?"
"No, but then, he didn't really need to, did he?"
Parker colored slightly and averted her eyes before inquiring in a low voice, "How did he seem? Okay?"
With a hint of amusement in her voice, Dinah replied, "Okay? Well, that's a good question, to which I can only answer that he seemed about how you do now. So, Parker, how are YOU? Okay?"
Parker's head snapped up and, for an instant, it looked as though she were about to become angry. But the moment passed quickly and she sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit as she slowly shook her head. "It was just a moment of weakness," she muttered unconsciously.
Bearing a sympathetic smile, the artist dug into her bag and produced a folded sheet of paper, which she handed to Parker, saying, "You know, if it weren't for our weaker moments, life would get pretty damned tedious."
Unfolding the paper, Parker glanced at it and raised her eyebrows before looking up and commenting evenly, without a trace of anger in her voice, "You lied when I asked earlier if you had any idea where he was staying. You said you didn't when, in fact, you've had an address all along."
"Have I? I didn't know that. All I knew was that I had a slip of paper, which was handed to me folded and remained that way the entire time it was in my possession."
"Okay, then, but you didn't tell me you had a slip of paper either."
"You didn't ask," the artist retorted with a smirk.
* * * *
Eden Road
Rockport, Massachusetts
Parker wouldn't have been surprised if every filling in her mouth had shaken loose by the time she reached the address scrawled, in what she recognized as Jarod's hand, onto a slip of paper. The view from the road that wound along the granite coastline was beautiful, but the condition of the road itself was horrible, and she was reld tod to be able to pull off it and onto a short driveway lined with salt rose bushes.
She warily stepped out of her rented car and peered through a small window into the garage, which was empty. She squinted up at the house, placing her hand over her eyes to shade them from the sunlight, still brilliant even as sunset approached. It was nice enough, she mused, perched on the rocks overlooking the deep blue Atlantic. She guessed there would be a deck in the back and probably lots of windows affording a perfect view of the twin lighthouses on Thatcher Island.
Parker emitted a weary sigh and shrugged, figuring she was there so she might as well go in and collect whatever message Jarod had left behind for her. Then she could get on with her life, such as it was. She walked around the side of the house, looking for an entrance, since the only entrance from the street side appeared to be via the garage, which was locked. She came upon a whitewashed wooden staircase leading up to a second floor entrance and took it. Trying the door, she wasn't at all surprised when it opened. She stepped inside and closed it behind her, moving carefully into the room. There were no signs of life, Jarod's or anyone's for that matter, in the bright, tastefully furnished den that did, indeed, feature glass doors leading out to a deck overlooking the water.
She moved forward, stepping through a doorway leading into an even brighter and airier room. The sound of pounding surf became louder and Parker realized that another set of sliding glass doors were opened and that the sheer curtains that hung over them were billowing in the breeze. She felt something crunch under her foot and looked down to see that it was the corner of a sheet of heavy, high quality paper. She carefully stepped off it and crouched down to turn it over, her mouth dropping open slightly when she did. She looked up and scanned the room to find that there were a few similar sheets strewn about the place.
"I sure hope you didn't step on that."
Parker bolted upright and spun around to face him. She didn't realize it but she held the sheet to her chest, the image facing outward as she stared, wordlessly, into his eyes.
Leaning casually against the doorframe in faded blue jeans and, of all things, a tie-dyed t-shirt, with his feet bare, Jarod motioned at the drawing Parker held fast to her body and advised,"
"If you left a footprint on that, Dinah will kill me."
"She might kill ME, maybe," Parker remarked, surprising herself with her level of composure. Glancing briefly down at the drawing in her hands she continued, "She wouldn't kill YOU if someone held a gun to her head. Apparently, you're a 'natural.'"
"So she tells me," Jarod sighed with a small smile as he stepped into the room. He moved past her, giving her wide berth.
"Well," he said as he sat down on the bed and Parker realized, for the first time, that the room they currently occupied was a bedroom. "What do you think?" He again motioned at the drawing she held.
"I think that after five hours, her interest in you was more than professional," Parker commented wryly.
"Perhaps," he said with a slight shrug. "But she's a very sensitive and insightful woman and probably knew the moment she set eyes on me that I wasn't free."
"Damn right, you're not. You're Centre property, Jarod, just like you've always been, just like you'll always be," Parker shot back, intentionally misinterpreting his words. Perhaps if she made him really angry with her, she reasoned, then they could revert to the status quo. That would be so much easier, not to mention safer, for all concerned.
"Is that how you really see me, Parker?" he asked in a soft voice as he gazed into her eyes. "Actually, that leads us to a very interesting point. What DO you see when you look at me? I had a long conversation with Dinah about what people see and don't see when they look at each other and how we can go through life without REALLY seeing the people around us, including those we think we know well."
"Sounds riveting," Parker remarked sarcastically.
"Oh, it was," he replied, ignoring her tone. "She's a talented artist but her true genius lies in her ability to see beyond the physical, to get at the subtext. That's why I asked to borrow her sketches of me. I was wondering if I could see something in myself, something she had managed to capture that I didn't even know was there. I've been looking at them for twenty four hours straight."
"So, what's you're subtext, Jarod?" Parker asked impatiently. "What did the artist see in the model besides, that is, someone she'd really like to screw if given the chance."
"It would appear," he replied with a heavy sigh, "that I am incomplete."
Parker turned the sheet toward her and scrutinized it a moment before observing dryly, "Looks like it's all there to me."
He chuckled softly then explained, "I'm not talking about the superficial, Parker; I'm talking about what lies beneath the surface. And, I guess it is glaringly apparent - well it was to Dinah, anyway - that beneath my surface is a lost soul who is desperately searching for something."
"No shit, Sherlock. You've been searching for your family since the moment you escaped. That hardly constitutes a news flash, Jarod."
"That's what I said and, frankly, she was rather surprised to hear it because, and these are her words not mine, she'd have been willing to bet her last dime that my yearning had something to do with that drawing she'd given me." He gazed intently into her eyes and his voice grew soft and deep as he added, "The drawing which, unless I'm mistaken, is now in your possession, Miss Parker."
Swallowing hard and casting her eyes down, Parker fidgeted nervously where she stood and muttered under her breath, "What the hell am I doing here?"
"That's a very good question, Miss Parker," Jarod remarked as he stood and made his way across the room. She didn't move a muscle but eyed him warily, tracking his every move as he set about picking up the sketches scattered about the room. When he had finished, he approached her slowly, stopping when he was only a few inches away from her.
"I almost hate to ask since you seem to have grown rather attached to it," he said with a smirk as he motioned at the drawing in her hands. She cast him a poisonous look and shove at at him. He chuckled then added it to the neat pile he'd made in the corner of the room before turning and addressing her once more,
"I'm sorry, I'm being a terrible host, but then, I'm not exactly experienced when it comes to entertaining. May I get you something, Miss Parker? A beverage maybe?"
"This is ridiculous!" she muttered to no one in particular, again fidgeting where she stood but making no move to leave.
"Well, if I can get you anything, please let me know," he offered cordially as he paced to the center of the room and stood, his hands resting on his hips in a posture of complete relaxation.
"You know," he continued after chewing his lip a moment. "I've been thinking a lot about the drawing I gave you."
"And?" she said in a tone that she'd intended to be harsh but somehow came out softly.
"And... I think I know why it touches me so," he replied equally softly, responding to her tone. She raised her eyebrows expectantly but didn't speak.
"Because it's us, Parker. I saw the two of us in it."
"Shit, Jarod!" she barked. "You're not going to let it go, are you? Why can't you just forget it ever happened? It was just one lousy ABORTED kiss, for Christ's sake!"
He smiled. Parker groaned and closed her eyes then spun around to look at the water. Neither of them had mentioned a word of it since their return from Carthis and, in his darker moments, he would find himself wondering if she ever thought of it. In fact he thought of little else, when his mind wasn't otherwise engaged, which is why he had thrown himself into a flurry of pretends after their return from the island. He had occupied himself as such for six solid months until he practically collapsed from exhaustion and finally resolved to take a break, which is what had brought him here after finishing a rather long, difficult and dangerous pretend in Upstate New York. By the time he'd arrived on Cape Ann five days earlier, he was basically running on fumes.
"I know we're not... what they are," he qualified in a low voice. "Not... technically. But what I see in that drawing is passion and intimacy. And, whatever else it's been, our relationship has always been passionate. I've never shared that kind of passion with anyone, not even the women I've made love to."
"Please shut up, Jarod," Parker pleaded weakly.
"And I know you better than anyone else in the world because I've made it my business to know you. And, for years, I had myself convinced that I made it my business because it's a good idea to know one's enemy, but I now realize that it's because there isn't anyone I've met out here who interests me as much as you do. And, I'd like to think that you know me too; I feel like you do. When we talk, even when we fight, I don't feel as though I'm hiding anything from you. I'm all there; I'm complete. Isn't that intimacy, Miss Parker?"
"Why won't you shut up?" she whimpered.
"I... I was wondering, what do you see when you look at the drawing... when you look at the man and the woman... together?"
She turned around slowly to face him and, crossing her arms, responded coolly, "I see sweet, pretty, young things. I see two people who weren't raised to be freaks, who don't have blood on their hands, and whose actions will not result in either their own deaths or the deaths of those around them. In other words, I sure as hell don't see us."
"Well, that's funny because here you are, Miss Parker. Here you are," Jarod remarked with a shrug before unceremoniously pulling off his t-shirt and tossing it aside.
Her eyes darting over his bare skin, Parker asked nervously, "W... what are you doing?"
"I'm taking off my clothes. I want you to look at me, Parker. I want you to take a nice, long look at me and decide what you see." He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans as he spoke.
"Stop that!" she demanded in a panicked voice, glancing behind her at the door and contemplating making a break for it.
"Come on, Miss Parker, don't tell me you're afraid of a little nudity," he said, sounding vaguely amused.
"Hardly," she sneered.
"Oh, yes, I know you've been in the company of naked men, but I doubt that you ever really saw them, or that they saw you. You'd never have permitted it... except maybe with Tommy," he tacked on with a hint of sadness in his voice.
She sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of his name but said nothing as she felt an unwelcome pang of guilt. The man Jarod sent to her had died for loving her and, lately, she'd begun to wonder if he'd just been another pawn in their lifelong game of cat and mouse. By the time she'd finished pondering, Jarod had kicked off his jeans and was standing before her wearing only his boxers.
"So Wonderboy's an exhibitionist now. I wonder what Freud will make of that?" she commented as she glanced first at him then around the room, unsure of where to focus her eyes.
"I want you to see me, Parker," he whispered, his voice sounding vulnerable, full of yearning. "I need YOU to see ME," he repeated earnestly. She heard the rustle of fabric as he removed his boxers, her eyes now glued to a spot on the floor.
"Look at me, Parker. See me."
She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, fortifying breath then opened them and allowed her gaze to drift slowly toward him. Her breath hitched as her eyes fell upon his nude form.
"This would be a perfect time to call in a sweeper team," she remarked, although her words carried little bite.
"Yes." He sighed, meeting her eyes. "I suppose it would."
She moved from his eyes, down his neck to his beautifully sculpted shoulders, then down his muscled chest to his washboard abdomen. He had just the right amount of hair on his body, adorning his tanned skin but not obscuring it. Parker gazed back up into Jarod's eyes, which held no fear, despite the vulnerability of his position. He seemed so relaxed and at peace. It made her tremble. She recommenced her inspection of his body, her eyes wandering to his narrow hips then down to his flaccid penis, which she noted was well in proportion with the large, healthy human male to whom it was attached. She unconsciously bit her lip then her eyes tracked the rest of the way down his body, along his long, elegantly muscled legs, to his feet.
Her feet seemed to move of their own accord, propelling her forward as she found herself beginning to relax. Parker had always been curious and, now that an opportunity presented itself, she wanted to see every inch of him. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as she moved past him and she detected a faint smile gracing his lips. She stood behind him as her eyes roamed from the back of his head, down to the short hairs on the back of his neck and the soft skin behind his ears. She'd never touched the skin behind his ears but she was as certain of its softness as she was that the sun rose in the east and set in the west. She suddenly recalled spending countless hours in her youth fixating on his ears, something she hadn't thought about in ages.
Parker moved down to his broad shoulders and noted the large freckles adorning them. He's gotten plenty of sun since he's been out, she mused as she examined his shoulder blades then continued her journey down his strong back to the taut roundness of his buttocks. She stopped there a moment, drinking in the beauty of the exquisite swell of flesh before continuing the journey down the back of his legs to his feet. She sighed and moved around him again, taking a moment to gaze into his eyes before making another revolution around his body, this time taking in the tiny imperfections: the moles and assorted battle scars.
"Just flesh and muscle and bone," she whispered as she moved around him at a snail's pace. "Just a man," she observed.
And he was, indeed, just a man, a strikingly gorgeous man, but a man nevertheless. He wasn't the symbol of her enslavement to the Centre, nor was he that yardstick against which she so often felt measured, and never favorably. He wasn't the paragon of virtue, that annoying beacon shining through the night as she, with her character flaws and bad habits, groped in the darkness. He was no longer a living, breathing symbol of all the evil perpetrated by her family against his, or of his ascension and her damnation. He was just a man, a beautiful man who, for reasons she'd never begin to comprehend, wanted her. And he didn't want her as a trophy, scion of the Centre, he wanted her as a woman, nothing more and nothing less. And if he was just a man, and she just a woman, then maybe... just maybe... they could...
Parker found herself standing in front of him and reaching out to touch him. She stopped short of doing so and quickly pulled her hand back, bringing it to her lips, her eyes filled with a combination of surprise, fear and guilt.
"It's okay," he soothed with infinite tenderness. "You have my permission to touch. I would like it very much, actually," he said with a smile and heartbreaking sincerity.
She slowly brought her trembling hand forward and pressed it gently to his chest, over his heart, emitting a small gasp as she felt it beating, strong and steady, beneath his warm skin. He feared his heart might explode at the look of wonder in her eyes. He silently thanked God for bringing her to him, which he immediately thought strange since he wasn't even sure he believed in God. He'd never felt he'd seen enough empirical evidence, although he was now beginning to suspect that her eyes held all the proof he'd ever need.
Parker moved around him again, and this time he couldn't resist turning his head slightly to watch her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and bit her lip, hesitating a moment before leaning in to press her face against the back of his neck and inhaling deeply, sighing as she enjoyed his pleasing scent. Jarod emitted a small groan, finding it increasingly difficult to control his body's response to her proximity but not wishing to do anything that might frighten her off. Her next move didn't make it any easier as she slid her arms under his and wrapped them around his body, then pressed her fully clothed body against him and rubbed her nose lovingly against the sensitive skin behind his right ear. It was indeed as soft as she'd imagined and she repeated the action on the other side.
Jarod swallowed hard a few times. There was something vaguely unsettling but also highly erotic about feeling her fully clothed body against his naked one. As if reading his mind, Parker murmured into his ear,
"I like this. It makes me feel powerful. Just like you knew it would. I love the way you know me."
She pulled out of their embrace and moved around to face him again and he now read something different in her eyes. His spine tingled. Her eyes tracked down his body and she unconsciously licked her lips as they fell upon his burgeoning erection. She took him in one hand then glanced up to meet his eyes again, locking them to gauge his reaction as she began to tenderly stroke him, employing both hands on soft skin stretched over the deliciously hard tissue beneath. He felt so good, so vibrant and so real to her. Jarod moaned deeply but never averted his gaze, as he suppressed an urge to touch her that was so powerful it bordered on madness.
"You're just a man," she uttered seductively.
"That's all..." He emitted a groan from deep within his chest then continued haltingly, "I...I've ever wanted to be with you, Miss Parker. What do you want?"
Parker stilled her movements and whispered, "I want you to see me."
She removed her hands from his body and took a couple steps back before stepping out of her slide-in sandals. She tugged her blouse out from her pants and started to unbutton it, her progress impeded by trembling fingers. Looking pleadingly at Jarod, she asked in a small voice, "Help me?"
"It would be my pleasure," he replied sweetly as he stepped forward and cupped her face in his hands. Then, looking into her eyes the entire time, he swiftly but gently unbuttoned her blouse then slid it over her shoulders, down her arms and off her body. He unbuttoned and unzipped her pants and felt her shudder as his hands glided inside the fabric to push it down over her hips. He kept his eyes locked on hers even as he crouched down to slide her pants down her legs. Bracing herself by resting her hands on his shoulders, she stepped out of them.
He straightened and immediately went for the clasp of her bra, deftly unhooking it without averting his gaze from hers for an instant, sliding it effortlessly away from her body, and tossing it aside. They stood for a moment, toe to toe, and exchanged smiles before he crouched down again, this time allowing his eyes to make the trip. He sighed and pressed his forehead against her belly, his hands coming to rest gently on her hips. He smiled serenely as one of her hands slid into his hair to stroke his scalp and the other came to rest, lovingly, on his shoulder.
"You smell good," he murmured against her silky soft flesh.
"Thank you, so do you," she replied softly.
Jarod lifted his head and cast Parker an adoring look as his fingers slipped into the waistband of her panties. He felt her tremble again and he knew it wasn't from fear. She wanted him; she really, truly wanted him... finally... after all this time. Thank God.
Parker braced herself on his shoulders again, biting her lip as she felt his warm hands glide down her legs, taking her underpants down with them. She stepped out of them and sighed, humming in anticipation of feeling his bare skin next to hers. He stood and looked longingly into her eyes, a powerful need etched into every feature of his face. She reached up to cup his cheek and, just then, a gust of cool ocean wind blew into the room, causing her to shiver.
"Cold?" he asked.
"A little, but I won't be for long," she replied with an inviting smile.
"Still..." he said, covering her hand with his and bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss to her palm. "I'll just be a second." She gazed admiringly over his nude form as he walked across the room and watched intently as the muscles in his arms and back flexed when he slid the glass doors shut.
"Not all the way... I like the sound of the foghorn," she called out from behind him.
Leaving the door open a crack, he nodded and replied softly with a smile, "So do I."
Turning to her, he continued, "Sun's almost down..." then froze for an instant, his breath hitching. Parker was now on the bed, her legs folded under her as she sat back on her heels, her hands resting in her lap. Her lethally blue eyes were wide and bright and warm as they gazed up at him expectantly. With her long, lean body and flawless ivory skin, she was astoundingly gorgeous. For a moment he was afraid to move, terrified that she couldn't possibly be real and that she would dematerialize before his eyes if he got any closer.
"You're not losing your nerve, are you Jarod?" she asked, cocking her head adorably and using that playfully teasing tone he hadn't heard since they were children.
"Nope," he responded shaking his head. "I was just thinking... about the first time I saw the beach or the mountains... my first sunset... feh." He shrugged. "I mean, there's beauty and there's BEAUTY," he remarked huskily as he slowly approached the bed.
"Shut up," she said, coloring slightly and smirking as she lowered her eyes.
When he reached her, he titled her chin up and, gazing deeply into her eyes, asked, "Do you want to know what I see when I look at you, Miss Parker?" She nodded slowly and he ran his fingers lovingly across her cheek.
"I see my future, clearly. And for the first time."
She looked away from him, sadness creeping across her face. Concerned, Jarod reclined on the bed next to her, propping himself on one elbow. Reaching for her again, he tenderly brushed aside her hair and turned her face to his.
"What is it?" he asked softly. "What's wrong?"
"When Tommy died it nearly killed me," she replied, closing her eyes tightly for an instant. "They'll either use me to get at you or..." She shuddered. "You to get at me. Because that's what they do, Jarod: They destroy things; they destroy people."
"You know I can't promise you that nothing will ever happen to me, Parker, because nobody can make that promise to anyone. But I will tell you one thing: if they try to destroy us, then they're in for one hell of a fight. Besides," He smiled. "They haven't succeeded yet."
Even in the tiny bit of natural light that remained, Parker could discern the emotions swirling in Jarod's dark, glittering, beautiful eyes. It was a look she'd seen before, that night on the island, in front of the fire at Ocee's place. Again, they were on the same page as he intoned softly,
"This time there's no danger, Miss Parker, and there's nobody to stop us."
She smiled and nodded slowly as he sat up and swung his legs onto the bed, stretching them out next to her so he could face her where she knelt. She glanced down into his lap and, with a smirk, observed,
"You're being awfully patient, Jarod."
With a shrug, he replied, "I've waited a lifetime for this and I have no intention of hurrying it. Which isn't to say," he tacked on in a low voice, "That my patience is infinite. I am going to kiss you now, Parker, that is if you find that prospect agreeable."
She giggled and he smiled at the beautiful sound. "What are we doing here, conducting a real estate transaction?"
"Well," he responded thoughtfully as he reached for her. "I suppose we are, in a way, because I do have my eye on a certain parcel." He yanked her forward and she toppled against him, placing her hands on his shoulders to regain her equilibrium before shifting to straddle his outstretched legs then gently sliding her arms around his neck. He wound one arm around her waist to pull her more tightly against him as the other slid into her hair. "Right here," he whispered then guided her face to his and kissed her lazily, lingeringly, and exquisitely.
Jarod's kiss was totally incapacitating; Parker felt as though her entire body had liquefied. She could do little more than whimper helplessly, slackening against him as his soft lips caressed hers and his tongue invaded and erotically explored her mouth. She whined in protest when he finally pulled away but was soon appeased by the sensation of his lips, tongue and teeth working their way down her neck. He hummed with contentment as he savored her delicious flesh. His hands slid lower on her body, eventually cupping her bottom and gently maneuvering until she felt him, rigid as steel, brushing the sensitive skin of her upper thighs. He pulled her up into a full kneel and dipped his head lower, nuzzling her breasts lovingly before latching onto one.
"Oh!" she cried out in response to the sensation of his tongue and teeth attacking her sensitive flesh. She heard a muffled chuckle and couldn't help but smile herself as she rested her cheek affectionately on the top of his head, embracing him tightly as he suckled hungrily, moving from one breast to the other so as to neglect neither. In what were likely to be her last moments of lucidity, Parker wondered at the strange dichotomy. While every nerve ending in her body was doing summersaults, at her core she felt an inner calm she wouldn't have conceived of an hour earlier.
"They've turned on the foghorn," she whispered against the top of Jarod's head and felt him nod slowly against her.
"You taste so good," he panted against her flesh, the first words he'd uttered in several blissful minutes.
"How good?" she asked lazily as he continued to consume her flesh.
"Better than ice cream," he mumbled, his breath tickling her skin and heightening her arousal.
"Better than PEZ?" she inquired with a devilish snicker as he worked his way back up to her lips.
Leaning back a moment, he teased, "Well, I wouldn't go THAT far."
"Like HELL you won't!" she warned, low and seductive, and sank down fully onto his lap.
Jarod emitted a deep, predatory growl as he sensed the delicious slickness of her most intimate flesh. Plundering her mouth again, he slipped his hand between her legs to explore her warm, wet treasure.
"You feel amazing," he murmured against her lips as he massaged the gloriously hard, sweet little bundle in gentle, circular motions before squeezing it gently between his index finger and thumb. Her body jerked in response and she moaned, unable to utter a coherent word. Parker's only course of action was to reach down and take him in her hand, clenching her fist tightly around him.
"Parker!" he yelped as he pulled her hand away. "I g,,, guess that's your way of telling me you're ready."
"Uh-huh," she panted. "I was BORN ready."
He smiled then pressed his lips sweetly against hers and she could feel him nod. Parker held her breath in anticipation then expelled a long, shuddering breath as she felt him slip inside her body. A brief moment of panic swept over her as it occurred to her that what they were doing could not be undone; they had reached the point of no return. Feeling her body go slightly rigid, Jarod lifted his mouth off hers to whisper,
"Okay?"
Her only response was to press her hands to his shoulders, signaling that she wanted him to lie back. Wordlessly, he complied before reaching up with both hands to stroke her face then run his hands lovingly down the front of her body, lingering on her breasts as he toyed with her aching nipples, before moving further down to stroke the sensitive skin of her belly.
Swallowing hard and licking her lips, Parker braced herself by placing her palms flat on his chest and began to rock slowly back and forth. It was now pitch black in the room and she couldn't see him but she could feel him, hear his breathing and his soft moans. And it felt so good, his skin sliding against hers as he continued to caress her exquisitely; it also felt right. That strange calm descended once more and she smiled. Biting her lip she halted and he groaned in protest. She wriggled her pelvis against his then clenched her inner muscles around him.
Digging his fingers into her hips, he gasped and asked shakily, "W... what are you doing?"
Sitting up straighter, she wriggled against him again, making small, heavenly circles and biting her lip before replying matter-of-factly, but with a hint of playfulness in her voice, "Torturing you."
"W...why?" he asked with such innocence that she feared the pleasure of it might possibly be lethal.
"Because it feels good," she drawled. "Because you drive me crazy."
"Good!" he growled as he reached up and pulled her roughly to him. She emitted a small giggle and he moaned at the sensation of feeling her laughter from the inside. Rolling them both over so that he was on top, he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, "I like to drive you crazy, Miss Parker."
Even though they were way past the point of such formality, she found his use of "Miss" while inside her body to be extremely sexy. It evoked deference, submissiveness even, as though he were there solely to serve her, to please her. She bucked her hips against his and he took the hint, reaching down to pull her legs farther up his body to bring them into even closer contact and to slide deeper inside her. They exchanged soft moans as he commenced gliding back and forth inside her silky warmth.
"Oh, yes... yes, that's it!" Parker whimpered as he picked up the pace. She could feel that exquisite trail of hair running from his chest down to his abdomen tickling her skin. She could feel his warm body, soft skin stretched over taut muscle, everywhere, encircling her. She could feel his lips and teeth and tongue on the skin of her face and neck, his mouth occasionally reaching hers for a brief kiss. She could feel the painful pressure building as his pelvis ground deliciously against hers.
"Feels... per... fect... in... side... you... per... fect," Jarod chanted, as his movements became move frenzied.
"OH!" Parker cried out, as her orgasm approached. "Please! God! Faster! Harder!"
"Par... ker... my... Par... ker," was his only response as his trembling body jerked furiously against hers. As her body tightened around his and it felt as though he were no longer breathing, Jarod wondered fleetingly if it were possible to lose consciousness in such a situation.
Parker thought of nothing at all, a combination of a gasp and a small scream escaping her lips as the excruciating pleasure washed over her. It started in her groin but quickly radiated throughout her entire body, sending tingling shock waves down to the tips of her tightly curled toes, up to the tips of the fingers pressed firmly into the meaty flesh of Jarod's back, and all the way up to her forehead.
"OH GOD!" Jarod yelled. Responding to the vice-like grip of her body brought on by her intense, prolonged orgasm, he bucked ferociously against her a few more times until he felt a sensation akin to his body splitting open inside of hers. It was as though everything in the universe had stopped for a moment leaving him at one with a pleasure beyond all reason.
Feeling a powerful surge of warmth within her, Parker partially regained her senses and, pulling Jarod tightly into an embrace, held him there as he shuddered violently through his explosive release. Slowly he stilled until all was quiet except for the soft sound of the their mingling breath. They remained there, entwined in silence, for what could have been minutes or hours as far as they were concerned. Time seemed devoid of any meaning. After a while, Jarod lifted his head and offered with gracious sincerity,
"Thank you, Miss Parker. I enjoyed that very much."
Parker chuckled in response then emitted a quiet, "Ooh," at the sudden awareness that their bodies were still joined. Jarod moaned as the same awareness hit him then gently lifted himself off of and out of her body. Lying on his side to face her and propping himself up on one elbow, he brushed the back of his hand lovingly across her cheek and asked,
"May I interest you in that beverage now?"
She chuckled again then remarked with a sigh, "I love you, Jarod but, if you don't mind my saying so, you are a bit strange."
Bolting upright, he leaned over her and demanded, "Parker, do you know what you just said!"
"I said that you are strange," she replied coyly. "C'mon, you really can't argue with that, can you?"
* * * *
Coffin Cottage
Rockport, Massachusetts
"So," Dinah continued as she and her models engaged in genial conversation while they took a break. "I decided to leave L.A. behind for the summer and rent this place with a good friend of mine from New York, who's been coming up here since she was a girl. We figured it would be a good place for us to work, me on my drawing and she on her writing. She still has a 'day job' in the city while she's trying to get her first novel published. She comes up here on Thursday evenings and stays until Sunday night or Monday morning, depending on what's going on in the office. It works out quite nicely, actually. I usually spend all day Friday down at Rocky Neck so she can work in peace; she's already started her second novel. Then on Saturdays we both work a bit before going out and gorging ourselves on seafood, and on Sundays usually just knock around, go exploring or to the beach, whatever."
"Sounds ideal," her terry robe-clad female model remarked between sips of iced green tea. "Good friends are hard to come by."
"Yes, they are," Dinah replied thinking: And when Gina gets back tonight and finds out about all the excitement she's missed this week, she'll have a fit. She stifled a smirk and continued,
"I really appreciate your doing this. I have to say, I was rather surprised."
"Me too," her model replied then, shooting a look to her companion, added, "What can I tell you, he's awfully persuasive."
"Yeah." Dinah nodded. "I sort of got that."
The man in question grinned shyly and cast his eyes down. Dinah looked at the woman who seemed to have grown even more beautiful since their last encounter. And to her shrug that conveyed a modest "I know, I can't believe it either," Dinah couldn't help but smile. Just then the phone rang and hopping up from her seat, she announced,
"Excuse me, I'll just be a moment and take this while you finish your tea. Then we can get back to work. You've been very generous with your time and I don't want to take advantage."
Both guests smiled and nodded in response before she disappeared into the kitchen to pick up the phone.
"Hello," Dinah chirped into the receiver.
"Hi, it's me. I was wondering if you needed me to pick up anything."
"Well, we're fine on groceries but I think we could use another bottle or two of that Pinot Grigio you use to make the spritzers."
"Already got it. So, what are you up to today?" Gina inquired amiably.
"Working. You should see the couple modeling for me. Thirty seconds with them would make anyone feel as though they've got a major case of the uglies."
"Ah, poor thing," Gina teased. "I've got an idea: why don't you spend all week in this sweltering, crowded city, dealing with a megalomaniacal boss while trying to get somebody, ANYBODY, in the publishing world to give you the time of day and I'll stay there and spend my days drawing pictures while staring at gorgeous, naked people."
"That's NUDE, not naked, you Philistine," Dinah quipped with a smirk, adding, "And thanks for the offer but no thanks."
"I didn't think so," Gina replied with a chuckle. "And EX-CUSE ME for offending the delicate sensibilities of the ar-TEEST!"
"Bye!" Dinah intoned pointedly, rolling her eyes.
"Later, Chica," Gina tossed back, still chuckling as the connection clicked off. Shaking her head, Dinah hung up the receiver and strolled back toward the den, stopping in the doorway when she realized she was intruding on a private moment. Either unable or unwilling to look away, she stood there in silence and watched. It was just so lovely.
The man remained in his chair but the woman was now standing in front of him, between his parted legs. His arms were wrapped around her and his cheek rested against her body; his eyes were closed. One of her hands rested on his upper back while she tenderly stroked his hair with the other as she gazed serenely down at him.
"I have to go back today," she advised softly. "I don't feel right about leaving Syd and Broots on the ropes for any longer. It's not safe."
"I know," he replied with a sigh. "Doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything; it doesn't change this and this is all that matters to me. We'll be okay."
"Yes, we will," she whispered, smiling.
Dinah felt a profound sense of gratitude as she took in the beautiful tableau. She was grateful to this mysterious, strange and gorgeous couple because seeing them together gave her hope: hope for them, to be sure, but also hope for herself and hope, even, for that often sad, dangerous world out there. Not a bad day's work in all, she thought, then cleared her throat loudly and stepped into the room, smiling.
# # # #
Author's Note to D: I felt sort funny about using your life's calling as a cheap excuse to get Jarod naked again. But something tells me you'll forgive me...;-) And, while I'm afraid I couldn't let you have him (I'm sorry, but he belongs to her), I did afford you several blissful hours of sketching that delectably nude form! And, as you have claimed time and again, you would be satisfied with that (and if I believed that I'd be the proud owner of the Brooklyn Bridge by now...).
Warning: This one rates *****NC-17***** for consensual male/female sexual situations. (J/MP, of course. Is there other kind?)
Author's Note: This was inspired by an image of beauty I was lucky enough to receive via email a few weeks back.
Untitled
By Ginger
Rocky Neck Art Colony
Gloucester, Massachusetts
Jarod hummed in approbation as he chewed another piece of salt-water taffy, peanut butter this time. He was enjoying a balmy summer afternoon: consuming a bag of his latest discovery while strolling around the pier and looking at the lovely artwork on display. As one might expect given the location, most of the artists were exhibiting paintings of seascapes, lighthouses, and other features of this beautiful stretch of the New England Coast. He walked a little farther down the pier and something caught his eye, a pretty, tanned woman with sun-streaked hair was displaying drawings. And there wasn't a seagull or a lighthouse among them: they were all classical nudes.
He strolled up to her table and met her eyes. She gave him a courteous smile before turning away to fish something out of her bag. His eyes roamed the exquisite drawings scattered before him until they fell upon one in particular: it was of a sitting woman and drawn from a perspective that fell somewhere between a back view and a profile. She was leaning back on her right arm with her palm pressed to surface on which she was sitting. She wasn't alone. Between her bent and parted knees reclined a man who clung to her, his arms winding around her torso, both palms resting on her back. His head was burrowing into her body, occupying an expanse that reached from right beneath her breasts to her hips. His face was pointed downward, his lips coming to rest on the top of her right thigh, just below the junction with her torso.
The drawing captivated Jarod; he couldn't seem to take his eyes off it. It touched him and something about it made his heart ache. It was an all too familiar sensation these days; a yearning he'd experienced ever since... He sighed then realized the artist was addressing him. He looked up and met her eyes again, this time long enough to note that they were lovely eyes that exuded both warmth and intelligence. Strong and soft, he thought. She's seen things and KNOWS people; she's nobody's fool. He smiled and offered, "I'm sorry, did you say something?"
"No apology required; I like to give people space when they're viewing my work. I was just saying that something about that one..." She motioned to the drawing of the couple. "Obviously speaks to you. I hope you don't mind my saying so and please don't misinterpret my meaning. I don't engage in 'hard sell' tactics. But you should've seen your face when you looked at it."
"It's beautiful," Jarod remarked wistfully, his eyes drifting down to the drawing once more.
"It's yours," she responded warmly.
He looked up at her again and she nodded. He gave her one of his trademark smiles and, with a small sigh she asked, "What's your name?"
"Jarod. And I'll be more than willing to pay whatever you're asking for such a lovely..."
"No, Jarod, that one was meant for you and, since it's mine to give, consider it a gift."
"Actually... it's intended... for someone else," he explained, coloring slightly and looking at his shoes.
"I figured as much," she replied with a kind smile and a nod as she reached over to grab the drawing. "Doesn't matter, though, your money is no good here."
"What's your name? You don't seem to have it displayed here anywhere."
Rolling up the drawing, she replied with a chuckle, "I guess I still haven't mastered that whole self-promotion thing." Holding out a hand, she added, "My name is Dinah. Dinah Roberts."
Taking her hand, Jarod replied, "Hello, Dinah, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"How shall I wrap this up for you? Will you be carrying it with you or shipping it?"
"Well, Dinah, since you mentioned it." Jarod spoke in a conspiratorial tone. "I'd like to ask you a favor."
"A favor? Sure. As long as..." The artist's gaze traveled the length of his body, all the way down and back up again, before she met his eyes and grinned wickedly. "You'd be willing to do me one in return."
* * * *
Two Days Later
"Man, I wish I brought Debbie with me; this place is great!" Broots declared as he looked around him. "Did you see the statue of that sea captain guy as we drove into town, you know, the guy from the fish sticks box? You think they make them here? Debbie and I just love 'em."
"Sydney, please make him shut up or I won't be responsible for my actions," Parker spat as she strode determinedly up the pier. Sydney said nothing in response but simply shrugged and cast a sympathetic look at his crestfallen colleague.
The artist looked up to see the trio approaching and muttered under her breath, "Well, look what we have here."
Charging up to the table, Miss Parker adopted her most intimidating demeanor and, shoving a photograph at Dinah, demanded, "Have you seen this man?"
Not in the least bit intimidated, but taking the photo from her anyway, Dinah sighed and replied, "Yes, Miss Parker, I have." She then looked up and, handing the photo back to Parker, nodded cordially and addressed the other two, "Sydney... Mr. Broots."
Broots looked at the drawings and, blushing, observed, "They're all..."
"Nude, Broots, just like all those pictures you download from the Internet, only this is art," Parker quipped.
"But I don't..." he started to protest as Sydney looked on in amusement.
Ignoring him, Parker redirected her attention to the woman in front of her. With a sigh of impatience, she asked, "Did he say what he was doing here, how long he planned to be in the area, or where he was staying?"
"I don't know what he was doing here but, by the looks of it, he was just taking it easy. He didn't say where he was staying and I didn't ask. As for how long he'd be in the area, I have no idea, although he didn't appear to be in any hurry." Dinah's eyes glittered as she looked squarely into Parker's and continued, "After all, he had five hours to spare to model for me."
"He WHAT!" Parker exclaimed, wide-eyed, as she unconsciously scanned the drawings. Broots fidgeted nervously and Sydney looked pensive.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you won't find any of those drawings here, Miss Parker," Dinah commented wryly. Parker's head shot up and she glared at her.
Clearing his throat, Sydney asked, "Was it his idea to model for you or was it yours?"
"I asked if he would and he said yes."
"And, how do you think he found the experience? Did he appear comfortable?"
"He was a little shy at first." Dinah smiled as she recalled their afternoon together. "But he relaxed pretty quickly and did a splendid job. As a model, he's a natural."
"I'm sure," Parker remarked caustically, adding wearily, "Do you have any idea what his plans might be?"
"Sorry, I can't help you. Again, I didn't ask and he didn't say," Dinah chirped.
"Well, that's it then, he's long gone," Parker announced as she turned to leave, adding, "Probably in Timbuktu by now. I'm out of here!"
"Oh, Miss Parker," Dinah called after her as she reached behind the table to retrieve a package. "You wouldn't want to leave without this, would you?"
* * * *
Parker paced her hotel room like a caged tiger, stopping occasionally to glance at the wrapped package on the bed. She hadn't opened it in front of Sydney and Broots because she'd suspected what it contained. And neither of them had mentioned it on the drive back to the hotel, most likely for the same reason. She'd been back in her room a half hour and hadn't managed to open it yet.
Jarod had pulled a lot of shit over the years but never anything like this: giving her a nude drawing of himself. Why on earth would he do such a thing? Clearly, it was to humiliate her, but that didn't make any sense. Things between them had changed recently; she couldn't deny it. So what on earth did he hope to achieve? One fundamental fact of their lives hadn't changed: he ran and she chased. And he had to keep on running, and she chasing, for either of them to have any hope of survival.
She stopped at the foot of the bed and stood motionless for a time, just staring at the package for what seemed like ages. Finally, she groaned and muttered, "Get a fucking grip, Parker!" then leaned forward to unwrap it. As she gazed at the framed drawing, her breath caught and she unconsciously brought a hand to her lips. Tears welled in her wide eyes.
* * * *
Concerned, Sydney knocked harder a second time. "Miss Parker, are you in there?" he called softly through the door. "Is everything alrig"
"
The door opened slowly and she peered out at him, blinking. It was obvious that she had been crying. Sydney silently chided his protégé as he stepped into the room and carefully closed the door behind him: I know you have the best of intentions, Jarod, but sometimes you push her too hard.
Parker slumped down on the bed and sighed, motioning listlessly at the drawing as she stared off into space. Sydney approached the bed and looked at it, emitting a small gasp at the sensual beauty he beheld. He thought fleetingly of Michelle and of everything that was taken from him and smiled sadly.
"What do you think it means, Sydney?" Parker asked him in a small voice, sounding more vulnerable to him than she had at any time since she was a child.
Sitting down beside her, he carefully took her hand in his and said, "I know you don't like to discuss what happened between the two of you on Carthis, but he may be sending you a message about the evolution of your relationship."
Meeting his eyes, she challenged, "But there is no evolution, Syd! That's what the alleged 'genius' can't seem to get through that thick skull of his! It was just a..." Her voice became softer. "Moment... of weakness..."
He sighed and nodded, having finally received confirmation of his suspicions, after several months of silence on the topic from both parties concerned. Seeing this, Parker felt compelled to explain,
"W... we didn't... I mean, it was a very dangerous situation and we spent the entire time searching for the scrolls and doing our damnedest to stay alive." Into her mind wandered the unspoken addendum to that statement: we would have, though, had we been granted the opportunity.
Squeezing her hand reassuringly, Sydney soothed, "It's okay, Parker, I understand, but you do not owe me, or anyone, an explanation. You are adults and the changing dynamics of your relationship is something to be worked out between the two of you."
"You're not hearing me, Syd. There are no changing dynamics because there is no relationship. He runs; I chase. That's it: end of story. You were there when m..." She gave a small shudder and continued, "When Raines issued that warning. The only way to survive is to hunt Jarod." She sighed. "And pray that Lyle never succeeds in capturing him." With a small, knowing smile she added, "Fortunately, in a contest between those two, I'd put my money on Jarod any day."
"Don't you see, Parker, if you are now willing to voice such sentiments, then your relationship with Jarod HAS INDEED changed! Perhaps, more to the point, YOU have changed! Even though the Centre continues to dictate the practical matters of your daily lives, don't you think it's time you STOPPED letting them arbitrate your relationship with the ONE person who's known you longer and better than anyone else? They may still control what you DO day in and day out, but you mustn't permit them to control the way you FEEL. Don't let them define who you are, Parker, because you are so much MORE than what they've tried to make you."
Parker was feeling rather short on witty retorts just then and didn't respond. An awkward silence fell and she glanced down to find that Sydney now held her hand in both of his. She looked up into his eyes, those warm, intelligent eyes she'd grown so fond of in recent years, and appeared about to speak when there was a knock on the door.
"Miss P?"
Slipping her hand out of Sydney's, she called out, "Just a minute, Broots," then quickly stood and strode across the room to open the door.
Sauntering into the room he announced, "Since we've come up. He He glanced over Sydney's shoulder at the framed drawing and squinted to make out the image. Parker caught his gaze and tossed her jacket over it. He cleared his throat and continued, "Empty handed here... We've been called back home. So I guess we're checking out."
"Correction," Parker stated evenly, "YOU'RE checking out and heading back to Blue Cove. I'm staying here for a day or so."
To Broots's inquisitive stare, she replied, "Need I remind you that we are currently competing with my evil twin in a life and death game of 'catch the lab rat.' I think it's time we alter our strategy in the hunt for Jarod. I'll stay behind and see if I can learn anything else. Meanwhile, you and Syd can get back to work and resume your analysis of Jarod's recent activities. Perhaps a division of labor will produce better results. What do you think, Sydney?" she inquired as she met his eyes.
Smiling and resting his chin in his hand, he nodded and concurred, "I think that's very wise, Miss Parker. And I'm sure Raines will agree when Mr. Broots and I explain it to him."
Broots emitted a whimper and looked pleadingly, first at Parker then at Sydney, who patted him amiably on the shoulder and instructed, "Come on, Broots, we'd better get packed and be on our way. We'll be home in a few hours and you'll be able to have dinner with Debbie tonight. Everything will be just fine."
Following the younger man out of the room, Sydney stopped in the doorway and turned to gaze back at Parker, who said, "Twenty fours hours, Syd, that's all I'll need." He nodded and turned to leave again when she stopped him.
"And Sydney..." He glanced back at her.
"Thank you," she mouthed.
He cast her a warm, slightly lingering, smile then stepped out of the room and pulled the door softly closed behind him.
* * * *
Dinah raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms at her chest, a small smile tugging at her lips when she saw Parker approaching for a second time that day. The woman's demeanor was quite different this time, softer, and as anticipated, she was alone. The artist scrutinized her, thinking, it isn't enough that she gets to have those legs, but she also gets to have... She sighed and shrugged. Something about the sharp-tongued, leggy brunette made it impossible for Dinah to dislike her, as much as she'd wanted to. Superficial evidence to the contrary, she could sense that Parker's life had been far from charmed.
"Hello, again, Miss Parker," Dinah offered genially.
"Hello, Miss..." Parker replied then emitted a wry chuckle. "I guess I wasn't very thorough this morning."
"Roberts, Dinah Roberts. Please, call me Dinah."
"Everyone calls me Parker."
"Everyone?" the artist asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow.
"Everyone," Parker replied solemnly.
"Well, Parker, what can I do for you?"
"I... I was wondering... Did he say anything to you about it... about the drawing?"
"He said it was beautiful," Dinah responded wistfully.
"It is. You are very talented," Parker observed. "I mean, did he say anything about WHY he wanted ME to have it?"
"No, but then, he didn't really need to, did he?"
Parker colored slightly and averted her eyes before inquiring in a low voice, "How did he seem? Okay?"
With a hint of amusement in her voice, Dinah replied, "Okay? Well, that's a good question, to which I can only answer that he seemed about how you do now. So, Parker, how are YOU? Okay?"
Parker's head snapped up and, for an instant, it looked as though she were about to become angry. But the moment passed quickly and she sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit as she slowly shook her head. "It was just a moment of weakness," she muttered unconsciously.
Bearing a sympathetic smile, the artist dug into her bag and produced a folded sheet of paper, which she handed to Parker, saying, "You know, if it weren't for our weaker moments, life would get pretty damned tedious."
Unfolding the paper, Parker glanced at it and raised her eyebrows before looking up and commenting evenly, without a trace of anger in her voice, "You lied when I asked earlier if you had any idea where he was staying. You said you didn't when, in fact, you've had an address all along."
"Have I? I didn't know that. All I knew was that I had a slip of paper, which was handed to me folded and remained that way the entire time it was in my possession."
"Okay, then, but you didn't tell me you had a slip of paper either."
"You didn't ask," the artist retorted with a smirk.
* * * *
Eden Road
Rockport, Massachusetts
Parker wouldn't have been surprised if every filling in her mouth had shaken loose by the time she reached the address scrawled, in what she recognized as Jarod's hand, onto a slip of paper. The view from the road that wound along the granite coastline was beautiful, but the condition of the road itself was horrible, and she was reld tod to be able to pull off it and onto a short driveway lined with salt rose bushes.
She warily stepped out of her rented car and peered through a small window into the garage, which was empty. She squinted up at the house, placing her hand over her eyes to shade them from the sunlight, still brilliant even as sunset approached. It was nice enough, she mused, perched on the rocks overlooking the deep blue Atlantic. She guessed there would be a deck in the back and probably lots of windows affording a perfect view of the twin lighthouses on Thatcher Island.
Parker emitted a weary sigh and shrugged, figuring she was there so she might as well go in and collect whatever message Jarod had left behind for her. Then she could get on with her life, such as it was. She walked around the side of the house, looking for an entrance, since the only entrance from the street side appeared to be via the garage, which was locked. She came upon a whitewashed wooden staircase leading up to a second floor entrance and took it. Trying the door, she wasn't at all surprised when it opened. She stepped inside and closed it behind her, moving carefully into the room. There were no signs of life, Jarod's or anyone's for that matter, in the bright, tastefully furnished den that did, indeed, feature glass doors leading out to a deck overlooking the water.
She moved forward, stepping through a doorway leading into an even brighter and airier room. The sound of pounding surf became louder and Parker realized that another set of sliding glass doors were opened and that the sheer curtains that hung over them were billowing in the breeze. She felt something crunch under her foot and looked down to see that it was the corner of a sheet of heavy, high quality paper. She carefully stepped off it and crouched down to turn it over, her mouth dropping open slightly when she did. She looked up and scanned the room to find that there were a few similar sheets strewn about the place.
"I sure hope you didn't step on that."
Parker bolted upright and spun around to face him. She didn't realize it but she held the sheet to her chest, the image facing outward as she stared, wordlessly, into his eyes.
Leaning casually against the doorframe in faded blue jeans and, of all things, a tie-dyed t-shirt, with his feet bare, Jarod motioned at the drawing Parker held fast to her body and advised,"
"If you left a footprint on that, Dinah will kill me."
"She might kill ME, maybe," Parker remarked, surprising herself with her level of composure. Glancing briefly down at the drawing in her hands she continued, "She wouldn't kill YOU if someone held a gun to her head. Apparently, you're a 'natural.'"
"So she tells me," Jarod sighed with a small smile as he stepped into the room. He moved past her, giving her wide berth.
"Well," he said as he sat down on the bed and Parker realized, for the first time, that the room they currently occupied was a bedroom. "What do you think?" He again motioned at the drawing she held.
"I think that after five hours, her interest in you was more than professional," Parker commented wryly.
"Perhaps," he said with a slight shrug. "But she's a very sensitive and insightful woman and probably knew the moment she set eyes on me that I wasn't free."
"Damn right, you're not. You're Centre property, Jarod, just like you've always been, just like you'll always be," Parker shot back, intentionally misinterpreting his words. Perhaps if she made him really angry with her, she reasoned, then they could revert to the status quo. That would be so much easier, not to mention safer, for all concerned.
"Is that how you really see me, Parker?" he asked in a soft voice as he gazed into her eyes. "Actually, that leads us to a very interesting point. What DO you see when you look at me? I had a long conversation with Dinah about what people see and don't see when they look at each other and how we can go through life without REALLY seeing the people around us, including those we think we know well."
"Sounds riveting," Parker remarked sarcastically.
"Oh, it was," he replied, ignoring her tone. "She's a talented artist but her true genius lies in her ability to see beyond the physical, to get at the subtext. That's why I asked to borrow her sketches of me. I was wondering if I could see something in myself, something she had managed to capture that I didn't even know was there. I've been looking at them for twenty four hours straight."
"So, what's you're subtext, Jarod?" Parker asked impatiently. "What did the artist see in the model besides, that is, someone she'd really like to screw if given the chance."
"It would appear," he replied with a heavy sigh, "that I am incomplete."
Parker turned the sheet toward her and scrutinized it a moment before observing dryly, "Looks like it's all there to me."
He chuckled softly then explained, "I'm not talking about the superficial, Parker; I'm talking about what lies beneath the surface. And, I guess it is glaringly apparent - well it was to Dinah, anyway - that beneath my surface is a lost soul who is desperately searching for something."
"No shit, Sherlock. You've been searching for your family since the moment you escaped. That hardly constitutes a news flash, Jarod."
"That's what I said and, frankly, she was rather surprised to hear it because, and these are her words not mine, she'd have been willing to bet her last dime that my yearning had something to do with that drawing she'd given me." He gazed intently into her eyes and his voice grew soft and deep as he added, "The drawing which, unless I'm mistaken, is now in your possession, Miss Parker."
Swallowing hard and casting her eyes down, Parker fidgeted nervously where she stood and muttered under her breath, "What the hell am I doing here?"
"That's a very good question, Miss Parker," Jarod remarked as he stood and made his way across the room. She didn't move a muscle but eyed him warily, tracking his every move as he set about picking up the sketches scattered about the room. When he had finished, he approached her slowly, stopping when he was only a few inches away from her.
"I almost hate to ask since you seem to have grown rather attached to it," he said with a smirk as he motioned at the drawing in her hands. She cast him a poisonous look and shove at at him. He chuckled then added it to the neat pile he'd made in the corner of the room before turning and addressing her once more,
"I'm sorry, I'm being a terrible host, but then, I'm not exactly experienced when it comes to entertaining. May I get you something, Miss Parker? A beverage maybe?"
"This is ridiculous!" she muttered to no one in particular, again fidgeting where she stood but making no move to leave.
"Well, if I can get you anything, please let me know," he offered cordially as he paced to the center of the room and stood, his hands resting on his hips in a posture of complete relaxation.
"You know," he continued after chewing his lip a moment. "I've been thinking a lot about the drawing I gave you."
"And?" she said in a tone that she'd intended to be harsh but somehow came out softly.
"And... I think I know why it touches me so," he replied equally softly, responding to her tone. She raised her eyebrows expectantly but didn't speak.
"Because it's us, Parker. I saw the two of us in it."
"Shit, Jarod!" she barked. "You're not going to let it go, are you? Why can't you just forget it ever happened? It was just one lousy ABORTED kiss, for Christ's sake!"
He smiled. Parker groaned and closed her eyes then spun around to look at the water. Neither of them had mentioned a word of it since their return from Carthis and, in his darker moments, he would find himself wondering if she ever thought of it. In fact he thought of little else, when his mind wasn't otherwise engaged, which is why he had thrown himself into a flurry of pretends after their return from the island. He had occupied himself as such for six solid months until he practically collapsed from exhaustion and finally resolved to take a break, which is what had brought him here after finishing a rather long, difficult and dangerous pretend in Upstate New York. By the time he'd arrived on Cape Ann five days earlier, he was basically running on fumes.
"I know we're not... what they are," he qualified in a low voice. "Not... technically. But what I see in that drawing is passion and intimacy. And, whatever else it's been, our relationship has always been passionate. I've never shared that kind of passion with anyone, not even the women I've made love to."
"Please shut up, Jarod," Parker pleaded weakly.
"And I know you better than anyone else in the world because I've made it my business to know you. And, for years, I had myself convinced that I made it my business because it's a good idea to know one's enemy, but I now realize that it's because there isn't anyone I've met out here who interests me as much as you do. And, I'd like to think that you know me too; I feel like you do. When we talk, even when we fight, I don't feel as though I'm hiding anything from you. I'm all there; I'm complete. Isn't that intimacy, Miss Parker?"
"Why won't you shut up?" she whimpered.
"I... I was wondering, what do you see when you look at the drawing... when you look at the man and the woman... together?"
She turned around slowly to face him and, crossing her arms, responded coolly, "I see sweet, pretty, young things. I see two people who weren't raised to be freaks, who don't have blood on their hands, and whose actions will not result in either their own deaths or the deaths of those around them. In other words, I sure as hell don't see us."
"Well, that's funny because here you are, Miss Parker. Here you are," Jarod remarked with a shrug before unceremoniously pulling off his t-shirt and tossing it aside.
Her eyes darting over his bare skin, Parker asked nervously, "W... what are you doing?"
"I'm taking off my clothes. I want you to look at me, Parker. I want you to take a nice, long look at me and decide what you see." He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans as he spoke.
"Stop that!" she demanded in a panicked voice, glancing behind her at the door and contemplating making a break for it.
"Come on, Miss Parker, don't tell me you're afraid of a little nudity," he said, sounding vaguely amused.
"Hardly," she sneered.
"Oh, yes, I know you've been in the company of naked men, but I doubt that you ever really saw them, or that they saw you. You'd never have permitted it... except maybe with Tommy," he tacked on with a hint of sadness in his voice.
She sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of his name but said nothing as she felt an unwelcome pang of guilt. The man Jarod sent to her had died for loving her and, lately, she'd begun to wonder if he'd just been another pawn in their lifelong game of cat and mouse. By the time she'd finished pondering, Jarod had kicked off his jeans and was standing before her wearing only his boxers.
"So Wonderboy's an exhibitionist now. I wonder what Freud will make of that?" she commented as she glanced first at him then around the room, unsure of where to focus her eyes.
"I want you to see me, Parker," he whispered, his voice sounding vulnerable, full of yearning. "I need YOU to see ME," he repeated earnestly. She heard the rustle of fabric as he removed his boxers, her eyes now glued to a spot on the floor.
"Look at me, Parker. See me."
She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, fortifying breath then opened them and allowed her gaze to drift slowly toward him. Her breath hitched as her eyes fell upon his nude form.
"This would be a perfect time to call in a sweeper team," she remarked, although her words carried little bite.
"Yes." He sighed, meeting her eyes. "I suppose it would."
She moved from his eyes, down his neck to his beautifully sculpted shoulders, then down his muscled chest to his washboard abdomen. He had just the right amount of hair on his body, adorning his tanned skin but not obscuring it. Parker gazed back up into Jarod's eyes, which held no fear, despite the vulnerability of his position. He seemed so relaxed and at peace. It made her tremble. She recommenced her inspection of his body, her eyes wandering to his narrow hips then down to his flaccid penis, which she noted was well in proportion with the large, healthy human male to whom it was attached. She unconsciously bit her lip then her eyes tracked the rest of the way down his body, along his long, elegantly muscled legs, to his feet.
Her feet seemed to move of their own accord, propelling her forward as she found herself beginning to relax. Parker had always been curious and, now that an opportunity presented itself, she wanted to see every inch of him. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as she moved past him and she detected a faint smile gracing his lips. She stood behind him as her eyes roamed from the back of his head, down to the short hairs on the back of his neck and the soft skin behind his ears. She'd never touched the skin behind his ears but she was as certain of its softness as she was that the sun rose in the east and set in the west. She suddenly recalled spending countless hours in her youth fixating on his ears, something she hadn't thought about in ages.
Parker moved down to his broad shoulders and noted the large freckles adorning them. He's gotten plenty of sun since he's been out, she mused as she examined his shoulder blades then continued her journey down his strong back to the taut roundness of his buttocks. She stopped there a moment, drinking in the beauty of the exquisite swell of flesh before continuing the journey down the back of his legs to his feet. She sighed and moved around him again, taking a moment to gaze into his eyes before making another revolution around his body, this time taking in the tiny imperfections: the moles and assorted battle scars.
"Just flesh and muscle and bone," she whispered as she moved around him at a snail's pace. "Just a man," she observed.
And he was, indeed, just a man, a strikingly gorgeous man, but a man nevertheless. He wasn't the symbol of her enslavement to the Centre, nor was he that yardstick against which she so often felt measured, and never favorably. He wasn't the paragon of virtue, that annoying beacon shining through the night as she, with her character flaws and bad habits, groped in the darkness. He was no longer a living, breathing symbol of all the evil perpetrated by her family against his, or of his ascension and her damnation. He was just a man, a beautiful man who, for reasons she'd never begin to comprehend, wanted her. And he didn't want her as a trophy, scion of the Centre, he wanted her as a woman, nothing more and nothing less. And if he was just a man, and she just a woman, then maybe... just maybe... they could...
Parker found herself standing in front of him and reaching out to touch him. She stopped short of doing so and quickly pulled her hand back, bringing it to her lips, her eyes filled with a combination of surprise, fear and guilt.
"It's okay," he soothed with infinite tenderness. "You have my permission to touch. I would like it very much, actually," he said with a smile and heartbreaking sincerity.
She slowly brought her trembling hand forward and pressed it gently to his chest, over his heart, emitting a small gasp as she felt it beating, strong and steady, beneath his warm skin. He feared his heart might explode at the look of wonder in her eyes. He silently thanked God for bringing her to him, which he immediately thought strange since he wasn't even sure he believed in God. He'd never felt he'd seen enough empirical evidence, although he was now beginning to suspect that her eyes held all the proof he'd ever need.
Parker moved around him again, and this time he couldn't resist turning his head slightly to watch her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and bit her lip, hesitating a moment before leaning in to press her face against the back of his neck and inhaling deeply, sighing as she enjoyed his pleasing scent. Jarod emitted a small groan, finding it increasingly difficult to control his body's response to her proximity but not wishing to do anything that might frighten her off. Her next move didn't make it any easier as she slid her arms under his and wrapped them around his body, then pressed her fully clothed body against him and rubbed her nose lovingly against the sensitive skin behind his right ear. It was indeed as soft as she'd imagined and she repeated the action on the other side.
Jarod swallowed hard a few times. There was something vaguely unsettling but also highly erotic about feeling her fully clothed body against his naked one. As if reading his mind, Parker murmured into his ear,
"I like this. It makes me feel powerful. Just like you knew it would. I love the way you know me."
She pulled out of their embrace and moved around to face him again and he now read something different in her eyes. His spine tingled. Her eyes tracked down his body and she unconsciously licked her lips as they fell upon his burgeoning erection. She took him in one hand then glanced up to meet his eyes again, locking them to gauge his reaction as she began to tenderly stroke him, employing both hands on soft skin stretched over the deliciously hard tissue beneath. He felt so good, so vibrant and so real to her. Jarod moaned deeply but never averted his gaze, as he suppressed an urge to touch her that was so powerful it bordered on madness.
"You're just a man," she uttered seductively.
"That's all..." He emitted a groan from deep within his chest then continued haltingly, "I...I've ever wanted to be with you, Miss Parker. What do you want?"
Parker stilled her movements and whispered, "I want you to see me."
She removed her hands from his body and took a couple steps back before stepping out of her slide-in sandals. She tugged her blouse out from her pants and started to unbutton it, her progress impeded by trembling fingers. Looking pleadingly at Jarod, she asked in a small voice, "Help me?"
"It would be my pleasure," he replied sweetly as he stepped forward and cupped her face in his hands. Then, looking into her eyes the entire time, he swiftly but gently unbuttoned her blouse then slid it over her shoulders, down her arms and off her body. He unbuttoned and unzipped her pants and felt her shudder as his hands glided inside the fabric to push it down over her hips. He kept his eyes locked on hers even as he crouched down to slide her pants down her legs. Bracing herself by resting her hands on his shoulders, she stepped out of them.
He straightened and immediately went for the clasp of her bra, deftly unhooking it without averting his gaze from hers for an instant, sliding it effortlessly away from her body, and tossing it aside. They stood for a moment, toe to toe, and exchanged smiles before he crouched down again, this time allowing his eyes to make the trip. He sighed and pressed his forehead against her belly, his hands coming to rest gently on her hips. He smiled serenely as one of her hands slid into his hair to stroke his scalp and the other came to rest, lovingly, on his shoulder.
"You smell good," he murmured against her silky soft flesh.
"Thank you, so do you," she replied softly.
Jarod lifted his head and cast Parker an adoring look as his fingers slipped into the waistband of her panties. He felt her tremble again and he knew it wasn't from fear. She wanted him; she really, truly wanted him... finally... after all this time. Thank God.
Parker braced herself on his shoulders again, biting her lip as she felt his warm hands glide down her legs, taking her underpants down with them. She stepped out of them and sighed, humming in anticipation of feeling his bare skin next to hers. He stood and looked longingly into her eyes, a powerful need etched into every feature of his face. She reached up to cup his cheek and, just then, a gust of cool ocean wind blew into the room, causing her to shiver.
"Cold?" he asked.
"A little, but I won't be for long," she replied with an inviting smile.
"Still..." he said, covering her hand with his and bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss to her palm. "I'll just be a second." She gazed admiringly over his nude form as he walked across the room and watched intently as the muscles in his arms and back flexed when he slid the glass doors shut.
"Not all the way... I like the sound of the foghorn," she called out from behind him.
Leaving the door open a crack, he nodded and replied softly with a smile, "So do I."
Turning to her, he continued, "Sun's almost down..." then froze for an instant, his breath hitching. Parker was now on the bed, her legs folded under her as she sat back on her heels, her hands resting in her lap. Her lethally blue eyes were wide and bright and warm as they gazed up at him expectantly. With her long, lean body and flawless ivory skin, she was astoundingly gorgeous. For a moment he was afraid to move, terrified that she couldn't possibly be real and that she would dematerialize before his eyes if he got any closer.
"You're not losing your nerve, are you Jarod?" she asked, cocking her head adorably and using that playfully teasing tone he hadn't heard since they were children.
"Nope," he responded shaking his head. "I was just thinking... about the first time I saw the beach or the mountains... my first sunset... feh." He shrugged. "I mean, there's beauty and there's BEAUTY," he remarked huskily as he slowly approached the bed.
"Shut up," she said, coloring slightly and smirking as she lowered her eyes.
When he reached her, he titled her chin up and, gazing deeply into her eyes, asked, "Do you want to know what I see when I look at you, Miss Parker?" She nodded slowly and he ran his fingers lovingly across her cheek.
"I see my future, clearly. And for the first time."
She looked away from him, sadness creeping across her face. Concerned, Jarod reclined on the bed next to her, propping himself on one elbow. Reaching for her again, he tenderly brushed aside her hair and turned her face to his.
"What is it?" he asked softly. "What's wrong?"
"When Tommy died it nearly killed me," she replied, closing her eyes tightly for an instant. "They'll either use me to get at you or..." She shuddered. "You to get at me. Because that's what they do, Jarod: They destroy things; they destroy people."
"You know I can't promise you that nothing will ever happen to me, Parker, because nobody can make that promise to anyone. But I will tell you one thing: if they try to destroy us, then they're in for one hell of a fight. Besides," He smiled. "They haven't succeeded yet."
Even in the tiny bit of natural light that remained, Parker could discern the emotions swirling in Jarod's dark, glittering, beautiful eyes. It was a look she'd seen before, that night on the island, in front of the fire at Ocee's place. Again, they were on the same page as he intoned softly,
"This time there's no danger, Miss Parker, and there's nobody to stop us."
She smiled and nodded slowly as he sat up and swung his legs onto the bed, stretching them out next to her so he could face her where she knelt. She glanced down into his lap and, with a smirk, observed,
"You're being awfully patient, Jarod."
With a shrug, he replied, "I've waited a lifetime for this and I have no intention of hurrying it. Which isn't to say," he tacked on in a low voice, "That my patience is infinite. I am going to kiss you now, Parker, that is if you find that prospect agreeable."
She giggled and he smiled at the beautiful sound. "What are we doing here, conducting a real estate transaction?"
"Well," he responded thoughtfully as he reached for her. "I suppose we are, in a way, because I do have my eye on a certain parcel." He yanked her forward and she toppled against him, placing her hands on his shoulders to regain her equilibrium before shifting to straddle his outstretched legs then gently sliding her arms around his neck. He wound one arm around her waist to pull her more tightly against him as the other slid into her hair. "Right here," he whispered then guided her face to his and kissed her lazily, lingeringly, and exquisitely.
Jarod's kiss was totally incapacitating; Parker felt as though her entire body had liquefied. She could do little more than whimper helplessly, slackening against him as his soft lips caressed hers and his tongue invaded and erotically explored her mouth. She whined in protest when he finally pulled away but was soon appeased by the sensation of his lips, tongue and teeth working their way down her neck. He hummed with contentment as he savored her delicious flesh. His hands slid lower on her body, eventually cupping her bottom and gently maneuvering until she felt him, rigid as steel, brushing the sensitive skin of her upper thighs. He pulled her up into a full kneel and dipped his head lower, nuzzling her breasts lovingly before latching onto one.
"Oh!" she cried out in response to the sensation of his tongue and teeth attacking her sensitive flesh. She heard a muffled chuckle and couldn't help but smile herself as she rested her cheek affectionately on the top of his head, embracing him tightly as he suckled hungrily, moving from one breast to the other so as to neglect neither. In what were likely to be her last moments of lucidity, Parker wondered at the strange dichotomy. While every nerve ending in her body was doing summersaults, at her core she felt an inner calm she wouldn't have conceived of an hour earlier.
"They've turned on the foghorn," she whispered against the top of Jarod's head and felt him nod slowly against her.
"You taste so good," he panted against her flesh, the first words he'd uttered in several blissful minutes.
"How good?" she asked lazily as he continued to consume her flesh.
"Better than ice cream," he mumbled, his breath tickling her skin and heightening her arousal.
"Better than PEZ?" she inquired with a devilish snicker as he worked his way back up to her lips.
Leaning back a moment, he teased, "Well, I wouldn't go THAT far."
"Like HELL you won't!" she warned, low and seductive, and sank down fully onto his lap.
Jarod emitted a deep, predatory growl as he sensed the delicious slickness of her most intimate flesh. Plundering her mouth again, he slipped his hand between her legs to explore her warm, wet treasure.
"You feel amazing," he murmured against her lips as he massaged the gloriously hard, sweet little bundle in gentle, circular motions before squeezing it gently between his index finger and thumb. Her body jerked in response and she moaned, unable to utter a coherent word. Parker's only course of action was to reach down and take him in her hand, clenching her fist tightly around him.
"Parker!" he yelped as he pulled her hand away. "I g,,, guess that's your way of telling me you're ready."
"Uh-huh," she panted. "I was BORN ready."
He smiled then pressed his lips sweetly against hers and she could feel him nod. Parker held her breath in anticipation then expelled a long, shuddering breath as she felt him slip inside her body. A brief moment of panic swept over her as it occurred to her that what they were doing could not be undone; they had reached the point of no return. Feeling her body go slightly rigid, Jarod lifted his mouth off hers to whisper,
"Okay?"
Her only response was to press her hands to his shoulders, signaling that she wanted him to lie back. Wordlessly, he complied before reaching up with both hands to stroke her face then run his hands lovingly down the front of her body, lingering on her breasts as he toyed with her aching nipples, before moving further down to stroke the sensitive skin of her belly.
Swallowing hard and licking her lips, Parker braced herself by placing her palms flat on his chest and began to rock slowly back and forth. It was now pitch black in the room and she couldn't see him but she could feel him, hear his breathing and his soft moans. And it felt so good, his skin sliding against hers as he continued to caress her exquisitely; it also felt right. That strange calm descended once more and she smiled. Biting her lip she halted and he groaned in protest. She wriggled her pelvis against his then clenched her inner muscles around him.
Digging his fingers into her hips, he gasped and asked shakily, "W... what are you doing?"
Sitting up straighter, she wriggled against him again, making small, heavenly circles and biting her lip before replying matter-of-factly, but with a hint of playfulness in her voice, "Torturing you."
"W...why?" he asked with such innocence that she feared the pleasure of it might possibly be lethal.
"Because it feels good," she drawled. "Because you drive me crazy."
"Good!" he growled as he reached up and pulled her roughly to him. She emitted a small giggle and he moaned at the sensation of feeling her laughter from the inside. Rolling them both over so that he was on top, he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, "I like to drive you crazy, Miss Parker."
Even though they were way past the point of such formality, she found his use of "Miss" while inside her body to be extremely sexy. It evoked deference, submissiveness even, as though he were there solely to serve her, to please her. She bucked her hips against his and he took the hint, reaching down to pull her legs farther up his body to bring them into even closer contact and to slide deeper inside her. They exchanged soft moans as he commenced gliding back and forth inside her silky warmth.
"Oh, yes... yes, that's it!" Parker whimpered as he picked up the pace. She could feel that exquisite trail of hair running from his chest down to his abdomen tickling her skin. She could feel his warm body, soft skin stretched over taut muscle, everywhere, encircling her. She could feel his lips and teeth and tongue on the skin of her face and neck, his mouth occasionally reaching hers for a brief kiss. She could feel the painful pressure building as his pelvis ground deliciously against hers.
"Feels... per... fect... in... side... you... per... fect," Jarod chanted, as his movements became move frenzied.
"OH!" Parker cried out, as her orgasm approached. "Please! God! Faster! Harder!"
"Par... ker... my... Par... ker," was his only response as his trembling body jerked furiously against hers. As her body tightened around his and it felt as though he were no longer breathing, Jarod wondered fleetingly if it were possible to lose consciousness in such a situation.
Parker thought of nothing at all, a combination of a gasp and a small scream escaping her lips as the excruciating pleasure washed over her. It started in her groin but quickly radiated throughout her entire body, sending tingling shock waves down to the tips of her tightly curled toes, up to the tips of the fingers pressed firmly into the meaty flesh of Jarod's back, and all the way up to her forehead.
"OH GOD!" Jarod yelled. Responding to the vice-like grip of her body brought on by her intense, prolonged orgasm, he bucked ferociously against her a few more times until he felt a sensation akin to his body splitting open inside of hers. It was as though everything in the universe had stopped for a moment leaving him at one with a pleasure beyond all reason.
Feeling a powerful surge of warmth within her, Parker partially regained her senses and, pulling Jarod tightly into an embrace, held him there as he shuddered violently through his explosive release. Slowly he stilled until all was quiet except for the soft sound of the their mingling breath. They remained there, entwined in silence, for what could have been minutes or hours as far as they were concerned. Time seemed devoid of any meaning. After a while, Jarod lifted his head and offered with gracious sincerity,
"Thank you, Miss Parker. I enjoyed that very much."
Parker chuckled in response then emitted a quiet, "Ooh," at the sudden awareness that their bodies were still joined. Jarod moaned as the same awareness hit him then gently lifted himself off of and out of her body. Lying on his side to face her and propping himself up on one elbow, he brushed the back of his hand lovingly across her cheek and asked,
"May I interest you in that beverage now?"
She chuckled again then remarked with a sigh, "I love you, Jarod but, if you don't mind my saying so, you are a bit strange."
Bolting upright, he leaned over her and demanded, "Parker, do you know what you just said!"
"I said that you are strange," she replied coyly. "C'mon, you really can't argue with that, can you?"
* * * *
Coffin Cottage
Rockport, Massachusetts
"So," Dinah continued as she and her models engaged in genial conversation while they took a break. "I decided to leave L.A. behind for the summer and rent this place with a good friend of mine from New York, who's been coming up here since she was a girl. We figured it would be a good place for us to work, me on my drawing and she on her writing. She still has a 'day job' in the city while she's trying to get her first novel published. She comes up here on Thursday evenings and stays until Sunday night or Monday morning, depending on what's going on in the office. It works out quite nicely, actually. I usually spend all day Friday down at Rocky Neck so she can work in peace; she's already started her second novel. Then on Saturdays we both work a bit before going out and gorging ourselves on seafood, and on Sundays usually just knock around, go exploring or to the beach, whatever."
"Sounds ideal," her terry robe-clad female model remarked between sips of iced green tea. "Good friends are hard to come by."
"Yes, they are," Dinah replied thinking: And when Gina gets back tonight and finds out about all the excitement she's missed this week, she'll have a fit. She stifled a smirk and continued,
"I really appreciate your doing this. I have to say, I was rather surprised."
"Me too," her model replied then, shooting a look to her companion, added, "What can I tell you, he's awfully persuasive."
"Yeah." Dinah nodded. "I sort of got that."
The man in question grinned shyly and cast his eyes down. Dinah looked at the woman who seemed to have grown even more beautiful since their last encounter. And to her shrug that conveyed a modest "I know, I can't believe it either," Dinah couldn't help but smile. Just then the phone rang and hopping up from her seat, she announced,
"Excuse me, I'll just be a moment and take this while you finish your tea. Then we can get back to work. You've been very generous with your time and I don't want to take advantage."
Both guests smiled and nodded in response before she disappeared into the kitchen to pick up the phone.
"Hello," Dinah chirped into the receiver.
"Hi, it's me. I was wondering if you needed me to pick up anything."
"Well, we're fine on groceries but I think we could use another bottle or two of that Pinot Grigio you use to make the spritzers."
"Already got it. So, what are you up to today?" Gina inquired amiably.
"Working. You should see the couple modeling for me. Thirty seconds with them would make anyone feel as though they've got a major case of the uglies."
"Ah, poor thing," Gina teased. "I've got an idea: why don't you spend all week in this sweltering, crowded city, dealing with a megalomaniacal boss while trying to get somebody, ANYBODY, in the publishing world to give you the time of day and I'll stay there and spend my days drawing pictures while staring at gorgeous, naked people."
"That's NUDE, not naked, you Philistine," Dinah quipped with a smirk, adding, "And thanks for the offer but no thanks."
"I didn't think so," Gina replied with a chuckle. "And EX-CUSE ME for offending the delicate sensibilities of the ar-TEEST!"
"Bye!" Dinah intoned pointedly, rolling her eyes.
"Later, Chica," Gina tossed back, still chuckling as the connection clicked off. Shaking her head, Dinah hung up the receiver and strolled back toward the den, stopping in the doorway when she realized she was intruding on a private moment. Either unable or unwilling to look away, she stood there in silence and watched. It was just so lovely.
The man remained in his chair but the woman was now standing in front of him, between his parted legs. His arms were wrapped around her and his cheek rested against her body; his eyes were closed. One of her hands rested on his upper back while she tenderly stroked his hair with the other as she gazed serenely down at him.
"I have to go back today," she advised softly. "I don't feel right about leaving Syd and Broots on the ropes for any longer. It's not safe."
"I know," he replied with a sigh. "Doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything; it doesn't change this and this is all that matters to me. We'll be okay."
"Yes, we will," she whispered, smiling.
Dinah felt a profound sense of gratitude as she took in the beautiful tableau. She was grateful to this mysterious, strange and gorgeous couple because seeing them together gave her hope: hope for them, to be sure, but also hope for herself and hope, even, for that often sad, dangerous world out there. Not a bad day's work in all, she thought, then cleared her throat loudly and stepped into the room, smiling.
# # # #
Author's Note to D: I felt sort funny about using your life's calling as a cheap excuse to get Jarod naked again. But something tells me you'll forgive me...;-) And, while I'm afraid I couldn't let you have him (I'm sorry, but he belongs to her), I did afford you several blissful hours of sketching that delectably nude form! And, as you have claimed time and again, you would be satisfied with that (and if I believed that I'd be the proud owner of the Brooklyn Bridge by now...).
