Love On the Run Pt. 01

She sobbed as she came down from it, ready to beg him to stop, but he buried himself deeper. Another finger slid in and they pressed forward. Jessie felt a wall tumble down inside her and her knee buckled. Julian held up her weight easily and pressed on, making every inch of flesh he touched burn with fire and ice. Moisture gushed from her as she climbed quickly to another peak, wailing, her voice hoarse as he drove her to the precipice and flung her off.

Her mind knitted itself back together as he stood and scooped her up, depositing her on the bed. "Been a while for you, hasn't it?" he whispered as he bent, searching through their clothes for something.

She propped herself up on her elbows and could only jerk a nod, unable to speak. Jessie could barely breathe. To her relief he came up with a foil packet and ripped it open. She watched in rapt fascination as he sheathed himself, and she swallowed.

It had been so long...she knew they would fit, but it wasn't going to be easy. That both thrilled and scared her, and then he was on the bed between her legs.

"Don't worry," he whispered, claiming her lips in a kiss and thrusting in.

She cried out, gripping his arms, and her legs wrapped around his waist instinctually. He held still, and she was wet enough, but damn tight. His bright eyes closed, and he seemed to be holding back, as desperate as she.

Julian leaned back and pulled her with him, undoing her bra and tossing it aside. Once more he kissed her and this time it was soft, almost gentle. It stirred something deep inside, and then where they were joined he flexed and she thought her ears might steam.

Suddenly he wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug and rolled them on the small bed until she was on top. Together they raised her up, and his hands found her hips. She watched, fascinated as his biceps bulged with the movement of raising her, then slamming her down.

Jessie whimpered and caught the rhythm. He was a thing of beauty, such power, and strength. Though he moved fast he was surprisingly gentle, and had been so damn considerate. She caught the tail of another peak then and squeezed her eyes shut, taking over the movement as his hands caressed up to her breasts. He merely brushed his fingers across her aching nipples and she dragged her hips forward, rubbing her clit against him, and went off like a firecracker.

While she cried out, digging her nails into his skin he grabbed on and rolled them again. Once on top he let loose and pounded into her. She was still vibrating, contracting inside, and his hard, deep thrusts pushed her further into her climax. Soon he joined her, and his own cry of release was beautiful, haunting, nearly drowning hers out.

Julian rode it out until they were both replete. He held himself up off her, and waited until her climax subsided before withdrawing. He rolled aside and for a moment she blinked into the night, a little dumbstruck at his sudden withdrawal, but then he hauled her against his side.

"That," he chuckled. "was fantastic."

"Ungh," was all she could say.

Her experience was limited...okay, very limited in that it had been only one time, with a fellow awkward virgin. If she'd known what she'd been missing, perhaps she would have tried this long ago.

Still, it bothered her. With Henry there had been love. Puppy love, but still, they had been in love. This felt uncomfortable, even as it was satisfying. What moments ago had been thrilling was now unsettling and she pushed back, rolling off the bed.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

She found her clothes and tugged them on, fumbling with the bra. "Not at all," she lied. "Just need some fresh air."

She unlocked the long windows and parted the curtains, opening up the French-door style glass and stepping onto the tiny balcony overlooking the main drag. She heard him move, getting dressed, and breathed a sigh of relief. If he left now it could be a mistake, just a wonderful, toe-curling mistake. She could have had four years of mistakes in college, or one here, in the middle of nowhere South America. Given what Jessie had just experienced, she doubted the four years she'd missed would match up.

She nearly jumped when Julian came to stand behind her, arms coming around hers as he rested his hands on the railing. He nuzzled her hair and she closed her eyes, pretending for a moment. Pretending they weren't strangers, but true lovers, that he might actually care.

"Shit," he said suddenly and jerked back, breaking the spell.

He turned her and kissed her deeply. "Sorry, babe, I gotta run. I hope to see you again. Wait for me, or I will find you." With that sensual threat he was off.

She turned back to the street and saw the American couples from the bar getting into a rental car. From her motel Julian ran out, down the street, and got into one of his own. He followed them as they drove out of town, God only knew where.

He was a mercenary, and could be paid to rob them, hell, kill them. Somehow she got the feeling he was no killer, but what did she know? Maybe that blonde was really his friend's sister. Whether or not she was, he seemed hooked on her, Julian was probably driving away from her bed to challenge the blonde's boyfriend for her.

Damn it, why did that hurt? Sure, that meant she'd been used, but hadn't she been using him? It shouldn't matter, she didn't know, didn't even trust Julian was his real name. She certainly hadn't given him hers. She stalked back inside, confused over the strong need to know him once again, despite the disconcerting feeling of sharing her body with someone she did not love, let alone know.

Jessie returned to the bathroom and washed up in the shower. Once more she saw the woman in the mirror. She was glowing, her lips plump from his rough kisses still, her breasts covered with marks of their passion. She looked satisfied, dawning uncertainty replacing her earlier fear.

Had Jessie really become someone who used a man that way? She'd become a killer, why not this? "Damn it!" she yelled to herself. She'd had no choice but to kill in self-defense, but this...she had so willingly gone down a dark path and now everything seemed changed.

A tear slid down her cheek and she brushed it away, vowing something had to change. Before she could stop it, the rest fell, and she went to sleep finally letting all the grief she'd held inside for a decade come out into the open.

The next day she was a determined woman. Something about the night before with Julian had broken down the walls she'd spent ten years building. Jessie couldn't say how or why, but they had crumbled, and she felt reborn. She'd spent the night finally, at last, allowing herself to grieve for the life she'd lost, the love she'd touched once so briefly. She'd cried for her mother, sucked into a nightmarish life with an evil man, a one-night stand gone wrong.

Thanks to Jimmy, her mother had faded into a pale shadow of the beauty she'd once been, only to die miserable and alone. She cried for her, for the two years that followed, for the awful night that had made her run. She cried for Henry, her first love, remembering the confusion and heartbreak on his face the night she'd run to him, and the morning she'd left.

Jessie had cried until she was dry, then slept like the dead past noon, awoken only by an impatient maid. For the first time in years, she didn't remember her dreams, waking only to a strange sense of peace. Her ordeal was done. Diego's men hadn't gotten close in years, nor had any DEA or FB agent. She had three days until her contact came with the identity that would get her into Argentina and onto a plane. In less than a week she'd be looking for a job, and apartment, settling down, but for the moment she had...a vacation. From herself and from her dark life, Jessie had her first break.

She had to see him again. Maybe it was just great sex that had finally allowed her to let go, and nothing more, but if that was true why not experience it again? He had said he'd find her again, so it meant whatever she had experienced, he had shared it. She couldn't say just why, but her body was full-on craving him. If Julian wanted to chase after a woman already involved, well, Jessie would turn his head back.

That afternoon she'd dug into her precious savings and bought a simple red dress that flattered her figure greatly. She was lean and athletic from years of hunger and pushing herself, and she looked toned. She bought a pair of flat strappy sandals, something other than sneakers, an actual brush instead of a comb, and a few extra toiletries. Rather than cheap stage makeup to disguise herself, she used real cosmetics to enhance her features, make her eyes look larger, her lips fuller.

Jessie was nervous as hell. The only other time she'd ever sought out a romantic partner was Henry, but there had been no seeking. Quarterback and cheerleader, both tanned, blonde, outgoing, with good grades and a penchant for reading, they'd matched like dolls and spent an enormous amount of time together. They'd been practically forced together, and fit comfortably.

Julian was...something else entirely, and certainly not comfortable. She didn't even know what she wanted out of this. A few more nights? A declaration of love? An image struck her of sitting in some hut somewhere polishing his AK-47 waiting for the mercenary to return, and she bit back a dark laugh. No, she just had to find out why one beautiful moment with him had made her feel alive for the first time in a decade.

She'd wandered the town, waiting at the bar, but he hadn't shown by dinner time. In her years on the run, Jessie had become an expert at finding people. She'd tracked him down to the motel he was staying at, deep in the heart of the commune, as far from the river as any guests got.

Ten dollars American got her into his room, and he was asleep in bed. It was the nicest room in the motel, probably in town. He had a small sitting room, bedroom, and a bathroom three times the size of hers.

He had a metal briefcase on the coffee table, a black gym bag like hers on the dresser. She took two steps in and he rolled over, gun naked in his hand.

"Sandra?" He blinked.

It took her a moment to remember that was the name she'd given, and she smiled, her hands up. "Surprise. Do you mind putting the gun down?"

He did as asked and sat up, the sheet falling to his waist revealing a good portion of that magnificent body.

She raised her chin and tried for confidence. The first key to a welcome anywhere was acting like you belonged, and she'd never been shy. "You said you wanted to see me again."

"I did. I mean, I do, but what are you doing here?"

"I've got a few days free until my friends come, I didn't know how long you had. I don't like to waste time."

He set the gun down on the nightstand and smiled like a predator. "Well then, what are you doing dressed?"

A thrill went through her. Oh, this was definitely a mistake, but one she was only too happy to make. Her heart was hammering with nerves, but the heat in his eyes made warmth spread through her. Jessie stripped, slowly, enjoying his eyes on her. When she was around him, it seemed, it was like something possessed her. The feeling was heady, even though it was clear she was giving him the power.

She stripped down to her bare skin and let his eyes roam her body. Seeing a man so beautiful watch her as if she were a goddess conjured made her feel a deep, feminine sense of power. Despite efforts to be invisible she'd been propositioned many times over the years, but she had never felt this kind of attraction before. It was pure, animal instinct.

"Come here." He patted the bed next to him and she crossed to the queen-size, sliding down alongside him.

He stroked his hand down her leg to the ankle, then ran the backs of his fingers over her skin, all the way up to her cheek. She expected him to kiss her but Julian stopped himself. "Wait here."

He left her there shivering in need, admiring the sculpted lines of his body as he padded out. In the bathroom she heard him brush his teeth, and smiled at the consideration. He was a powerful mystery. Obviously strong and dangerous, she thought with a glance at the gun, but in bed he was a gentleman, at the bar he'd been polite, and by sparing her his morning breath, surprisingly considerate.

He came out grinning, no longer such a predator, and quickly moved to join her on the bed with a little jump. Immediately she was in his arms and their mouths fused. Jessie expected the onslaught, but he moved slowly. His hands stroked her as if memorizing every curve, and she hesitantly moved to seek the same on him. His body was so hard, so defined, the contrast against her own softness made her shiver.

He pushed her to her back and let his mouth follow the same path. Closing her eyes Jessie sighed, relaxing into the soft covers. Once more he worshipped her breasts, slowly this time, drawing each sensation exquisitely out of her.

Julian gifted her with the nip of teeth and moved along, hands slowly massaging her aching breasts. His breath was hot on her stomach, and then moved lower.

Her eyes squeezed shut, Jessie waited for the delight of being devoured, but all she felt were his thumbs gently parting her folds and his hot breath. She was on edge, panting in anticipation.

"It's such a shame to lack that soft downy fuzz down here," he said absent-mindedly.

In surprise she raised herself up on her elbows and stared down. He lay on his stomach between her legs, his dark hair wild and tangled, his bright blue eyes meeting hers from the intimate pose. Jessie's breath caught.

She'd long ago begun shaving off her pubic hair. She'd dyed her hair black, red, brown, a thousand shades, and it seemed easier to just remove the tell-tale blonde tufts than try to dye them to match.

He just smiled and bent his head, and soon she was lost to sensation. Slowly he licked the length of her folds, circling her clit, and she could only shiver. Over and over he teased her like that, his hands returning to her breasts. She clutched at his arms, begging as she panted, desperate for more. He seemed content to take his time and it was driving her mad.

Julian moved slowly, teasing, building the anticipation, but it wasn't enough.

"Please, I want to..."

He raised his head, kissing her lightly as he would her lips. "Yes?"

"I want to do that...to you..."

His eyes darkened to indigo as he chuckled and climbed beside her. Before she realized what he was doing he lifted her with ease and turned her. She scrambled to aid him and found herself facing his hardening cock. He lowered her hips, kissing her softly there, and made it clear he would not move until she did.

Grasping his cock with her hands she licked the salty tip and was rewarded with a groan and echoing action. She fumbled at first, but soon she caught a rhythm he seemed to like, and moved with her hands and mouth in concert. The response from him was pure magic, his mouth sealed, sucking, and his tongue flicked her clit gently.

Too soon Jessie came, wailing, his hands clamping her in place as she shook with it, Jessie trying to follow the natural urge to escape the demanding sweep of his tongue and the white hot pleasure it brought. When it passed she felt that gentle kiss again, but before she could refocus her energies, he moved her again. She found herself on her stomach and heard the nightstand open. Glancing over her shoulder she saw him pull out a foil packet fumbling the condom on, and then he covered her.

She held her breath, entirely unsure how it would work, and he forced her legs apart wider, laying across her back to kiss the back of her neck softly. Then he slid in. Her eyes went wide. At this angle he felt huge, and she could only clutch the sheets. His hand came around to slide between her hips and the sheets, and she felt his fingertips on her swollen clit. Jessie gasped, and then he began to move.

The pleasure was unbelievable. She felt every last inch of him as he moved slowly, and the feel of all that hard muscle gliding against her back thrilled her deeply. Inside he was so heavy and deep, outside so hard and light. The contrast twisted inside her as he rocked her against his hand. It was too much, she couldn't hold back, and wailing, Jessie came.

He let go, began thrusting faster and faster, and came with a roar while she was still twisting the sheets, riding out her climax. All too soon he collapsed on her and she sighed, bracing his weight, feeling floaty.

Deep in her heart, she suspected it wasn't like this with just anyone. She wanted to explore that, but in three nights she was leaving to start her new life, and Julian could never be a part of that.

"You're heavy," she breathed out and he pulled out, rolling over with a chuckle and apology.

She rolled to her back as he dumped the condom in the garbage and then hauled her against his side. "Don't run away this time."

"You were the one who ran."

He opened his eyes and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry about that. Work. I was hoping to see you again. After that nap, I fully intended to find you."

"Glad I saved us time. What kind of work do you do?"

"It's not important. Spend the night with me."

That surprised her. "Why?"

He laughed softly. "I just made you scream my name and you have to ask why? Look, you have a few days free, I have some free time...spend it with me. No pressure. You're not one for commitment, I get that. I won't even ask your last name. Let's just have fun."

It was too good to be true, and it was a complete mistake. In eight years she hadn't made a single one until the night he walked into her life, but so far she couldn't say she regretted it. No, every time they met she was left feeling too damn good. "All right."

"Really?" he asked, and she nodded. "Great, let me order up breakfast, then we nap, then we'll see if I can't make you scream my name at least three times in a row."

For forty-eight hours she had known heaven. Whoever Julian really was, whatever he did, he was actually a nice guy. He held doors and chairs, insisted on paying even when she argued vehemently pro-Dutch, and he was above all else, very considerate. In bed or in conversation he didn't push boundaries, valued her input.

Why couldn't she have met him in Portugal, when she was able to put down roots and take her time, ask him all the questions she wanted to? She'd have a tiny little apartment she could cook in, and they'd drink beer and try to follow cookbooks together, giving up, ordering in, and having sex on the floor after the picnic.

The fantasy was nice, but she had to remember it was impossible. She was leaving that night. Leaving Jessica Andrews behind, leaving Diego behind, and leaving Julian behind as well.

Damn it. He was smart, she could tell by the way he talked, but had he gone to college? What made him move down to Chile? How did he have blue eyes and speak Spanish like he'd been born doing so? What did he truly do for a living?

Why did she want to know?

God, she had to get out. She wasn't built for casual sex, Jessie knew that now, and after three wonderful days with him, sharing meals, sleeping together, having sex and at some times almost making love...she was leaving that night, she had to.

She'd lied and told him she would see him again, but when she left after the post-sex dinner, she'd been crying when she reached the street. He didn't know her name, she didn't know his last name, and yet she felt some kind of connection, and it hurt like hell to sever it.

But her contact was coming that night. She'd meet her contact down by the river after full dark. She'd pay him, get her papers, and he would make sure it was safe to cross. They'd walk all night through the forest into Argentina and she'd be home free.