Car Jacked

Jack closed the large book in front of him, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. His shirt-sleeves were rolled up, his tie loosened, and the first button on his shirt undone.

Jack and Claire had spent the past couple of hours looking up precedents that might help them with a difficult case they were working on at the moment. They had ordered in, and there were empty Chinese take-out cartons all over his desk.

"We've been at this too long, Claire," he said, resting his cheek in his palm, and gazing across the desk at her, as she kneaded the back of her neck with her fingertips. Her hair was gathered in a pony-tail, her suit jacket draped over the back of her chair. "The words are all beginning to blur together."

Claire chuckled, knowingly. "And I've got a kink in my neck from having my nose in books for the past couple of hours."

Jack looked at his watch. "My God, Claire. It's after 9. I'd say the troops can head home for the day."

"It's about time," she said, leaning back in her chair, resting her palms on the arms on either side of her. "Slave driver."

He got up and walked around his desk, around behind Claire's chair. "Aw, c'mon Kincaid. You're every bit the work-a-holic I am."

Claire laughed.

"Sit up a little," he said, his tone growing softer.

Claire complied, and she felt his hands on her shoulders, sliding closer to her neck. She could feel his fingers resting lightly on the sides of her neck, as his thumbs began to press firm circles right in the spot on her neck that most needed it. She let her head fall forward a bit, as Jack's thumbs worked their magic.

Claire sighed deeply.

"How's that?" Jack asked, his voice soft and gentle. "Feeling any better?"

"Mmmm, yes" said Claire, "That's wonderful."

She sat up straighter, and Jack moved in closer to her, pulling the scrunchie from her pony-tail, sending her dark, silken hair cascading over her shoulders. She leaned her head back against him, eyes closed, as he began to lovingly stroke her hair.

Jack leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "You know something, babe?" he asked, voice only slightly above a whisper.

"Mmm, what's that?"

He leaned down so that his head was next to hers. His lips were so close to her ear that she could feel his breath as he spoke. "Everyone's gone home, the floor's empty. Which means we're all alone."

He ran his hands down her arms.

Claire stood up, and they moved so that the chair was no longer between them. Jack reached out and grabbed Claire's hands, wrapped them around his neck, and enveloped her in an embrace.

Claire felt the power in Jack's strong arms, and allowed herself to surrender to the slow, devastatingly accurate kiss he was placing on her warm and eager lips. Jack backed them up slowly until Claire was leaning against his desk.

Jack broke the kiss and bent down a little. Claire felt his hands on her calves. They began to slide up her legs: over her knee-caps. His hands travelled higher, under her skirt, slowly up the back of her thighs.

Claire knew if she didn't stop him soon (though she was loathe to do so) they would end up abandoning themselves to their passion right there on his desk.

As his hands slid treacherously higher, Claire put her hands on his shoulders and said, slightly out of breath, "Jack.....not here."

He stopped. "Let's go."

They quickly gathered their things, disposed of their dinner, and were in the elevator in less than 5 minutes. They stood on opposite side of the elevator, eyeing each other lustily, not saying a word.

In the parking garage, they walked wordlessly to her car. They were alone in the parking garage, as well. Claire's was the only vehicle on the sea of concrete. It was winter, and there was snow on the ground, so Claire had left home a little early that morning, to pick up Jack, so he wouldn't break his neck attempting to ride a motorcycle on the icy streets.

They reached Claire's car, and she set her attaché case down, to open the door. The key was in the lock, and she was turning it when she felt Jack come up behind her, place his hands on her hips, press himself against her, and kiss her neck through her fragrant hair.

She turned to him, meeting his kiss with matching fervour. His hands ran over her back, her shoulders, as hers held the back of his head. Soon his hands were on her waist again, then running up her sides. She felt his hands graze across her chest as their tongues danced slowly. Then his hands were on her hips again, gathering her skirt in them, pulling it up higher, slowly.

Claire pushed Jack back. "Get in the car," she told him.

"Where are we going?" he questioned, his desire for her evident on his face, as hers was for him.

"No where," she said, "just get in the back."

She opened the car door, and Jack removed his coat before complying. When Jack was seated in her back-seat, she took her coat off and climbed in beside him.

"Brrrrrrrr," shivered Claire. "I didn't think about how cold it would be in here."

"Come here, Claire," said Jack. "I'll keep you warm."

They were siting next to each other, bodies turned slightly, arms wrapped around each other. They kissed passionately, eyes closed, and focused on the rush of feeling overwhelming them. Jack was right, once they got into it, Claire no longer felt the chill of a New York winter. In fact, she was feeling very, very warm.

Claire pulled away for a moment, and Jack opened his eyes. She lifted herself off the seat a little, reached beneath her skirt, and slid out of her underwear.

Jack let out a heavy sigh of appreciation, and anticipation, as she reached over and undid his belt and fly, sliding her hand inside. Jack groaned in pleasure, looking into Claire's eyes as she slid her naked thigh across his lap. She settled herself into a straddling position, sitting slightly away from him, as her hands went to work on the buttons of his white linen shirt. Jack helped Claire out of her suit-coat, and buried his lips in the crook of her neck.

Jack imagined he must be the luckiest man alive: here he was, with a magnificent, sexy, intelligent woman, in the back seat of her car. He felt wild, reckless, somewhat out of control: he was under her spell. Under normal circumstances, these were states of being Jack disliked intensely, but he loved and trusted Claire after their many months together, and allowed himself to be swept up into the vortex of passion.

"God, Claire," Jack breathed as her palms ran over bare pecs. He reached up and undid her blouse, pushing it back off her shoulders, which he bathed in hot, wet kisses. His hands massaged her breasts, and she felt his fingers nimbly undo the clasp of her bra. He heard her sharp intake of breath as his palms rubbed across her nipples. "I adore you," he said against her ear.

"Love you, Jack," she said, grabbing his head and pulling him in for another deep kiss.

He rested his hands on her hips, and Claire sighed contentedly against his lips. She loved being with Jack. She loved the way he felt against her, the way he smelled, so manly. She loved his hands on her, rubbing and stroking her body: it made her feel like he was surrounding her.

She slid closer to him on his lap, and he lifted her slightly as she braced a hand on his shoulder for support. She reached down between them, and he lowered her again, both moaning heavily as she sank slowly down. She didn't move right away, only continued exploring his chest, arms, and back with her hands as they kissed hotly, over and over. Soon, she couldn't control herself anymore, and began to move on him. His hands caressed her breasts as they moved together, his lips tasting the skin on her neck, slightly wet and salty, her fragrant perfume intoxicating him.

They were both breathing heavily, moaning into each others lips.

"Oh god, Jack...yessss" Claire moaned as Jack lowered his hands to stroke her behind as she ground herself against him with ever increasing ardour.

"Love you, Claire," he said against her lips, "I love you."

They moved together, pace increasing, for many moments, the only sounds their sighs and moans, and heavy, ragged breath. They kept their eyes open, watching each other, love and lust evident in both. They rose and fell together, passion mirroring passion, love mirroring love, pleasure building, until they could go no higher, and clung together, shuddering their release.

Claire sagged against Jack, breathing heavily, head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair, slightly damp from their recent exertion. They sat that way for a long while, stroking each others' backs and shoulders, murmuring words of love and affection to each other, until desire began to well within them again, and, kissing, they decided to re-locate to Claire's apartment, and spend many hours making slow, sweet love to one another.