by J N Duncan
Nick stood up, pushing to his feet, and Jackie felt the cool, vacuous absence of the arm that had been draped behind her head. A shiver went down her spine. The cavalry was riding off into the sunset without her. No hope of rescue after this point. They were not coming back for her. There would be no Laurel to save her from herself on this. She watched Shelby pour a shot of Kahlua into her coffee, and wished that it was the other way around.
Jackie got up to say good-bye to them, and Shelby whispered in her ear when she hugged her. “You’re safe here.”
Laurel passed through her, pausing briefly. You want me to stay?
Yes! But you can’t. I can do this. I want to. I need to, Laur.
There was a reassuring surge of warmth that enveloped Jackie. I know, hon. And please, just try to relax. This is supposed to be enjoyable.
I know, I know. I’m trying. Just hurry up and go, please. Before I change my mind.
The door opened, letting in the bone-chilling cold of Deadworld for a moment and then Laurel was gone. At the same time, Nick closed the front door behind Shelby and Cynthia, and the soft thud had Jackie’s heart jumping in an instant of panic. She almost sloshed her coffee all over the slate floor.
Nick waved his hand at the doorway, his smile casual. “You can still escape.”
No. My only escape is here. She licked her lips and took a sip of the coffee. “No. I’ll take your food over shopping any day.”
He laughed. “Good to know.” Nick turned to face her, his eyes gazing directly into hers.
Jackie’s breath hitched in her lungs for a moment, but she forced herself to return the look. “What?”
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.
Those words were so loaded with potential meaning that Jackie found herself speechless. What to say to that? She was glad to be there as well, or at least glad she had faced down the quivering nerves in her gut and decided to stay, with all of the implicit consequences of that action. Jackie knew precisely where Nick wanted this night to end up, but his steady gaze did not swarm over her with lust. His eyes were as patient and unreadable as ever. Any decisions to be made, any steps forward would be on her shoulders. Her voice, however, refused to cooperate.
Nick put his hand out between them, an invitation breaking the awkward silence. “How about a little piano time?”
That was a familiar step she could handle. Jackie reached out and placed her hand in his, dwarfed by the size of it. “Sounds good to me.”
Up in the loft, Nick turned on a floor lamp beside the piano and sat down, placing his coffee cup on a coaster.
Jackie set hers next to his, matching cups, steaming away. Matching. Just like a couple. Her heart began to thump a bit harder. I can do this. I can. It’s just a normal date. A simple, normal date. The sort of date she had not had. Ever. Jackie slowly let out her breath and sat down next to Nick.
“Any preferences?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Anything is good. Everything you play sounds wonderful.” Good at every damn thing in the world, and I don’t even know if I can do the one thing I was good at anymore.
Nick’s hands froze over the keys. “You OK, Jackie?”
She looked up at the calm, questioning expression on his face, and the momentary panic in her chest subsided. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Jackie flashed him a smile, hoping it looked more authentic than it felt. “Play.”
He did, and the tension in her chest eased. He truly was a gifted pianist, though perhaps less impressive with the God-given talent and a century to practice. After a few minutes, the song changed to something Jackie recognized, and Nick nodded toward her.
“Play,” he said.
“I’m no match for—”
“Not a contest,” he replied. “Come on. I like playing with you.”
Jackie glanced quickly up at him, but Nick was already focused back on the piano. She was looking for things where there shouldn’t be. Not everything was innuendo. Quit trying so damn hard, idiot. Just do this.
She put her hands on the keys and took a deep breath. Nerves had her missing a couple of notes, but a few moments later Jackie fell into the rhythm of the song. Their hands moved in tandem, following one another, playing off one another, and Jackie was surprised, just as before, that it came so easy to sit here as a team, two parts of a whole making a single piece of wonderful music together.
When the song finished, Nick laid his hand across her thigh. “You see? You’re better than you think, Jackie.”
“I’m so out of practice. I don’t really play enough.” Despite the coolness of his skin, warmth flooded through Jackie’s thighs, spreading from one to the other. Tension and nerves could not hide the truth.
He patted her thigh, causing Jackie to flinch, and got to his feet. “Come on. I’ve got something for you.”
Jackie watched him walk over to the archway leading into the library, a large room extending over the bedroom wing of the house, full of nooks and seating areas formed from row upon row of bookshelves. “What is it?”
He motioned for her. “Come and find out.”
“You don’t need to give me anything, Nick.” I’m here aren’t I? No bribes are necessary now. You can just jump my bones and get this all over with.
“You’ll like this. Trust me.”
Jackie followed him into the room, decorated with old Victorian-style couches and chairs, antique tables and Tiffany lamps. When he flicked the light switch, the whole space was suffused with the warm glow of light from a pair of chandeliers. Nick pointed to a love seat tucked into an alcove of shelves.
“Sit. I’ll be right there.” He walked further into the room, stopping at a bookcase covered by a glass door.
God, I don’t need a book. She had not read one in over a year, the last being something about crime-scene forensics. But she could play along. Maybe it was his idea of being romantic. Obviously there were worse plays to make, and she had seen most of them, even if she could not remember them at all.
Jackie sat on the edge of the love seat, hands folded in her lap, and waited. A curtained window looked out into the night; rivulets of water trickled down the windowpane. It was quiet enough that she could hear the faint patter of the rain against the glass. Nick returned with a stack of several leather-bound tomes and set them on the coffee table in front of her.
“Your choice,” he said, “to inspire practice.”
She picked up the book on top and read the gold-embossed title, Mozart: Sheet Music. Jackie eyed Nick curiously, who gave her an easy smile. When she opened the cover, Jackie found what the title indicated, pages and pages of sheet music, encased in clear, protective sleeves. The pages were yellowed, some cracked around the edges, and clearly old. It hit her then what she must be looking at.
“Wait. Are these originals?”
He nodded, his smile broadening. “Some of them. Most are handwritten copies, but some of them are the originals.”
“Oh, my God.” Jackie traced her fingers over the notes. “Shouldn’t these be in a museum somewhere?”
Nick shrugged. “They could be, but I like them where I can see them and use them on occasion. It makes the piece feel a bit more ... real, I suppose.”
“Wow, Nick. I couldn’t take any of these. God, they must be priceless.”
“You can, and you will,” he said. “They’re mine after all. I can do with them what I wish, and I wish for you to make use of them. If you’d like to, of course.”
“But—” I have nothing to give you in return. I haven’t been around long enough to collect shit like this. Give me a few decades to catch up, and maybe. The butterflies began to stir once again, agitated and nervous.
“But nothing,” Nick replied. “If you see one you’d like, take it. Think of it as borrowing from the library.”
Jackie laughed. “I don’t have a card.”
“Think I can make an exception just this once,” he said. “Perk of having an in with the librarian.”
> She leaned back and turned to him, suppressing a chuckle. Inside, the butterflies beat furious wings in an effort to escape. Shit. Here we go. I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this a million fucking times. Jackie smiled. I just can’t remember ever doing this right. “So, I have an in, do I?”
Nick’s arm reached behind her and settled on the back of the love seat, close enough that her hair brushed across the flesh of his arm. Goose bumps erupted across the nape of her neck and danced down her spine. “Ms. Rutledge, I believe you’ve been in with the librarian since day one.”
She leaned toward him. If that wasn’t an invitation, then she did not know what one was. She licked her dry lips and replied softly. “Rough edges and all that, huh?”
The crows’-feet around his eyes deepened. “Something like that.”
Nick’s mouth was soft and inviting as always, never pushing forward. The pace and momentum of this moment was hers to make, and Jackie swallowed back the pangs of uncertainty. Beneath the foggy effects of the Kahlua, thoughts of how, what, and why receded into the background. They did not exist. Things just happened and the controls of the ship were left to turn where they may. In Jackie’s dark sea, one never knew what monsters might swim up out of the depths.
But now, with hands firmly gripping the controls, Jackie felt her quivering palms unsure of where to guide things. She was the Titanic in a sea of approaching icebergs, pristine caps covering old, dangerous behemoths beneath.
Keep moving forward. Just push past all of this, you chicken shit. It’s just a little sex, and he looks good, smells good, tastes good, and that mouth knows what it’s doing. Jackie hooked her hand around the back of Nick’s head and pressed harder into him. Nothing weird here. Nothing.
Nick’s hand splayed across the small of her back, pulling her closer, and the other came up to cup her cheek. Confined in the embrace of a man who had drunk half of her blood, Jackie drew back a few inches.
“Nick ...” You don’t want my blood do you?
His thumb brushed across her cheek, the eerie, soft glow of his eyes locking on to hers. “You want to take this down to someplace more comfortable?”
God, those eyes! He could charm her into doing almost anything he wanted, bring out any dark need he might plumb from the depths of her mind. The butterflies had grown teeth, were gnawing away at her insides. They knew what was coming. They knew with or without charms where this path was leading. No! This won’t go there. I’m sober, clearheaded, and in control. I’m not that person anymore. I won’t freak out. The butterflies did not stop their frantic efforts to escape. Give it time. Normal was never on this menu.
“I’m comfortable right here,” she said. “It is a love seat.” Fuck, I really said that, didn’t I?
“It is indeed,” Nick replied, not missing a beat. “You are small, so I don’t think space is a requirement here.”
Jackie let a nervous laugh escape and buried her face against his chest. “Fuck you,” she mumbled. “It’s more than enough.” I may not have double D’s, but they’re there, goddammit.
“Hey,” Nick said, and curled a finger beneath her chin to lift her face back up. “You are more than enough.”
If only. She reached up and put her hands on his shoulders and swung a leg over his so that she straddled his lap. Just do this girl. Don’t stop, don’t think, just do it. The hard ridge pressing up beneath her was a good indication the sheriff was not lying at least. He wants this. It’s not just years of build-up getting released on the handiest body available. God knows I’ve been a handy body. She put her hands down on the firm, swimmer’s pecs. Maybe he does just want the easy lay.
Nick’s hands slipped around her waist and wandered up beneath her blouse, pushing the smooth, blue silk across her breasts. Her nipples swelled against his palms as he continued to push the blouse up and she sucked in her breath. A shiver coursed through her.
He pushed her arms up and pulled the blouse over her head, dropping it to the floor. Jackie suppressed the urge to cross her arms over her chest and placed her hands back on Nick’s chest. His hips shifted subtly beneath her.
“You’re sure about this, Jackie?” He traced a finger lightly down between her breasts. “I know Shelby and Laurel have been—”
“No!” She pinned his hand to her chest. Fuck, Nick! Talk later. Don’t make me think about ... everything. Jackie heaved a sigh. “No. I want this. I think—” she glanced down between them “—that you want it, too.”
Nick smiled. “Very much.”
“So just shut up.” Jackie pulled his hand away and leaned down to kiss him, pressing her hips down against him. “Please. Let’s just ... fuck. OK?” Jackie, you sound like a freaking slut. This is going all wrong. I’ve done this a million times. Pull it together.
One hand slipped around to the small of her back, pushing her down even harder against the firmness of his cock. The other brushed lightly through her hair, skimming over the pink scar on Jackie’s scalp. “I cede to your demands.”
She kissed him again, trying to savor the touch of his hands roaming over her body, but every time he hit a hip bone or brushed over a rib, Jackie wanted to cringe. Too thin. I look like a damn anorexic. A skinny, scarred up, scared little teenager who doesn’t have a clue what the fuck she is doing. Jackie sandwiched Nick’s face between her hands and kissed him with more force, biting on his lip, and darting her tongue into his mouth. Just keep going. Go, go, go.
A hand slid across her stomach and down beneath the band of her panties, cupping her, a finger sliding between the folds. It felt wonderful, but Jackie realized with horror that she just wasn’t very wet down there. Too nervous. Fuck, I can’t relax. He’s going to think I’m not interested.
“Take off your shirt,” she demanded, pushing herself upright. Jackie grabbed at it, pulling it up across his stomach. “No fair that I’m the only one losing their clothes here.”
The hand withdrew from between her thighs and Nick removed his shirt. “Better?”
I’m blowing this. God, I need a fucking drink. Jackie fumbled at Nick’s pants and unbuttoned the jeans. “Almost.”
He arched up his hips and let her pull the jeans down until he could step out of them, and then pulled her underwear down to add to the pile. Nick stared up at her, hands folded over the tight, swimmer’s belly. One corner of his mouth curled up. “Enough?”
Jackie wanted to pause and stare. He wasn’t ripped by any stretch, but the muscles were all firm, lean lines flowing over his body. Nick Anderson was a very good-looking man. Her hands began to tremble. Stop. Please body, don’t fail me now. “Not quite.”
Nick slipped his hands into the boxers and pushed them down over his thighs, revealing just how ready he was for her. “Better?”
Warmth flooded through her. So much for not being wet. OK, I can do that. One hundred and eighty years had not hurt Nick Anderson in the slightest. Jackie reached down and pulled the boxers all of the way off, finding her face parked not more than two feet away from a damn fine cock. Climb on top? Blowjob? What would he want? Do I even give good head? I’ve done it a thousand times, I’m sure. Fuck. Do I even like doing it? What if I suck at it? I’ll bet Shelby could throat the whole damn thing. God, the bitch. Nick’s going to be disappointed after that. How do I live up to the goddess of all things sex?
“Jackie?” Nick reached up to her. “Come here.”
He’ll be fucking the rookie, like some anxiety-ridden teen, except this teen isn’t so nice and sweet and tight anymore. She’s been used a thousand times, fucked six ways to Sunday, like some street corner whore.
Her shaking hand disappeared in Nick’s and he pulled her forward until she lay across his chest. He cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” she said in a rush. “Do you think something’s wrong?” He’s having doubts, knows I’m not right for him, knows this won’t work! He always sees right through me, knows I’m just a goddamn fuck-up. A
voice, distant, laughing and mean, whispered up from the dark sea of memory. You’re just like her, always will be. A dumb, fucking whore who hates herself even more than she hates me.
Nick brushed his thumb across her cheek, and to Jackie’s horror, felt the warm smear of tears between them. “You’re worried and stressed. I want this to be enjoyable for both of us. So, maybe if we curl up here for while and relax? Just get more comfortable being together.”
“No, no,” she replied, pushing herself back up, feeling the breadth of his cock sliding against her. “I’m good, really. I need to do this.” She reached behind and grabbed a hold of Nick, pulling his cock upright and settling herself against it. “It’s all good. I’m fine.” Letting go, Jackie pushed herself down, letting the length of him bury itself inside her, and was rewarded with Nick’s quiet groan. “See? All good.”
“Jackie. I don’t think—”
“We’re good, Nick. Doesn’t that feel good?” See? Just normal old sex. A nice fuck. But the look on his face said otherwise. His mouth was no longer relaxed into that sexy, easy smile. The creases around his eyes had deepened with concern. But worst of all, the hard warmth of him had eased. He was losing interest. Jackie worked her hips harder, stroking up and down along the shaft.
“It does, trust me,” he said. “But this isn’t right, Jackie. I want this to be right.”
The butterflies began to bleed out, fluttering with rampant glee through her body. “It ... it is right.” Her chest began to tighten, pressing down on a heart that thumped a frantic beat. Jackie clamped her thighs around Nick, driving herself against him. I’m good. I can make this good. I’m not like her anymore. “Just ... just ... just go with ...” The air was catching in her lungs, making it hard to breathe, to talk. He felt great inside her, filling her, driving away those furious, panicked butterflies pinned within the walls of her chest.
Nick implored. “Jackie, stop. Please.”
The taste of salty tears stung Jackie’s mouth. “No ... we ...” Where was the air? The fucking butterflies had used it all up. “It’s ... OK.”
