The case against Paul Koppel was really beginning to come together, but he had managed to get the Judge to grant a pre-trial hearing, and they were to give arguments in front of her the next week. The Gordon case, on which Claire was still consulting, though she was not "technically" still on the case, was also beginning to solidify. With the new charges, they had managed to get a new judge, and Jack had Chet working on precedents and Supreme Court holdings that would allow them to get the DNA evidence in. Jack was hot to make sure that Gordon was going away for life, and it was imperative that they be able to nail him for the murdered girl.
By the end of both days, the two of them were both mentally and physically exhausted, ruling out everything beyond a couple of drinks in the way of after work "quality time". They spoke on the phone for sometime both nights. The puppy, on Friday night, almost blew Jack's surprise, when, after having chased Lucy up and over the gate in the kitchen, and not being able to make it over himself, he began to bark and whine.
"What was that?" asked Jack.
The puppy ceased.
"What was what?"
He started up again.
"That."
"Sounds like a dog barking."
"You don't have a dog," he said. "But it sounded too close to be one of the neighbours'."
"I've got the TV on in the other room," she covered, then walked down the hall to her bedroom and shut the door."
"Where are you now?"
"My bedroom."
"Ohhh, reeeealy?" he said. "Soooo....what are you wearing?"
They forgot about the barking.
*****
On Saturday evening, Christmas Eve, Jack arrived at Claire's just after 6 pm, as they had previously agreed, carrying a paper sack with handles in one hand, and an overnight bag on the opposite shoulder. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a sweater. Claire, too, wore jeans, though hers were black, with a long-sleeved, fitted purple polyester blouse.
"Hi!" he said when Claire opened the door. He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.
"Hi," she replied. "Did you take a cab?"
He nodded.
"Go on into the living room," she told him, "I have to go get one of your presents from my room. I have to give it to you now because I won't be able to keep a lid on it for very long."
"Wait..." he called after her as she headed down the hall. She had stuck the puppy in her bathroom until she was ready to give him to Jack.
She turned around to see him pulling two bottles of red wine out of the paper sack.
"One is for us tonight," he told her, "The other goes with us to your mother's tomorrow."
"Oh, Jack, you didn't have to bring anything to my Mom's," she told him. "But you'll win some big brownie points for the wine. Particularly since it's red."
"Shall I put the bottles in the kitchen?"
"Yes," she began, then remembered the puppy's food bowl, water dish, and "mess" paper. "Actually, no... just hang out in here for a couple of minutes while I go get your gift."
He gave her a slightly confused look, but nodded his agreement.
"I'll just be a minute." When she was gone, he put several wrapped packages under the tree for her.
In her bathroom, Claire was tying a red bow around the puppy's little neck. She came out and stood at the entrance to her bedroom, puppy in her arms.
"Jack?" she called.
"Yes?"
"Sit down and close your eyes, okay?"
"What're you up to?" he queried.
"Just do it, okay?"
"Alright."
She started down the hall.
"Are you sitting?"
"Yes."
"And your eyes are closed?"
"Yes."
"Okay then, keep 'em closed," she said as she turned into the living room. Jack was seated on the sofa. Holding the puppy close, she sat next to him.
"Can I open my eyes?"
"Not just yet."
She held the puppy out at arms length, leaned closer to Jack, and held the puppy up near his face. The puppy sniffed him, then wiggled happily in Claire's hands, then licked Jack's nose.
At this, Jack's eyes flew open.
He looked shocked.
Claire laughed as Jack reached up to take his new into his hands, and it continued to lick his face. "Claire? ... What? ... A puppy?"
He didn't seem happy, and Claire was crushed.
"You don't ... you don't want him?" Jack could hear the hurt and disappointment in her voice.
"No ... God no," he told her, "I'll happily keep him. It's just that... this is the last thing I'd have expected."
This made Claire happy.
The puppy yipped, and Jack held him up and looked into his eyes. He grinned hugely, feeling something very close to the emotions he had felt when his mother had agreed to speak to his father about keeping the stray that had followed him home. He had thought, after his father had the animal destroyed, that he would never again open his heart to an animal, but one look into that puppy's face, and he couldn't help himself. There was something so inherently sweet about the sad-eyed black puppy with curly, floppy ears; he couldn't help but open his heart to him.
He leaned over and kissed Claire.
"Thank you," he told her, "I know why you did this, and that makes it all the more meaningful. Thank you. He's adorable.
She stood and walked to the Christmas tree, silently noting the packages Jack had set under the tree. She pulled a gift-bag from behind the tree.
"Here's some puppy-stuff," she said, and knelt on the floor between the fireplace and the coffee table. Jack and the puppy joined her.
When Jack set him down, he began to shake his head, trying to dislodge the annoying red bow. Jack and Claire laughed heartily as the puppy shook his head so furiously, he knocked himself over.
"He's rambunctious," she told Jack., wiping the tears from her eyes as the puppy picked himself up and started shaking his head again, knocking himself over once more. "You're going to have your hands full until he gets a little older. I tried to discipline him some, but he'd look up at me with those puppy-dog eyes, and I didn't have the heart.
"You know... if you ever have children," said Jack. "They're going to be able to manipulate the hell out of you."
She laughed. "You're probably right. Like you, I talk a big game, but on the inside I'm just a big softy."
She started pulling items out from the bag: chew toys, a couple of bones, a collar and leash, and an envelope.
She picked up the tug-toy. "He likes this one best," she informed Jack. "Watch."
Holding it in front of the puppy, she shook it until he showed interest, and pounced on it, taking the free end in his mouth. He began to growl as he pulled backward, shaking his head side to side, his eyes going crossed and ears flopping to and fro. Jack and Claire started to laugh.
"He's nine weeks old," she said as she handed the toy to Jack. "He's had his first shots, but he still needs to be fixed. This," she said, picking up the envelope, "Is a gift certificate to have that done if and when you want to. He's pretty much house-trained, but he's had a few lapses."
"I still can't believe you're giving me a dog for Christmas."
"I've got a couple of other things for you, too."
"You didn't have to," he said, concerned. "He would have been enough."
"I bought the other stuff, first, so don't worry about it, okay? After you told me that story, the idea of giving you a puppy dawned on me, and so I did it."
"Did you name him?" he asked.
"Nope, that's your job," she told him. "Just do me a favour will you?"
"Anything."
"Don't name him anything silly or common. There are too many dogs named Max, Rover, Spike and Spot."
"I'll put a good deal of thought into it, I promise," he said. "Lucy will be thrilled when I take him home, I expect."
"You're probably right," she told him. "He seems to like Lucy an awful lot. Won't leave her alone. I get the feeling he thinks they're the same species. But then, Lucy thinks she's human, so..."
"So you're giving me a dog with an identity complex?"
Claire laughed. "Yep, that's about it..."
"So now I have to figure out how to give him back his inherent 'dogness'? Great, thanks a lot, Kincaid."
"Take him to a pet psycho-therapist," she joked. "They have them now, you know."
"What a crock!" he said. "Anything else I should know about him?"
"He likes his belly rubbed."
"We have something in common."
"Yeah, but your left leg doesn't shake when I scratch your stomach."
"I could make it if it'd turn you on..."
Claire laughed.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"He has to sleep with you or he'll bark and whine all night."
"Great...so you're giving me a spoiled dog who doesn't think he's a dog. Some gift. What else?"
She thought for a moment. "Keep him away from low-lying pillows."
"Did he shred one?" asked Jack.
"Yep."
"Sorry about that. What did you do with him when you went to work?"
"Put him in the kitchen with one of those child safety gates blocking the door. You can have it now."
Jack resumed playing with his new pet, and Claire stood. Jack looked up at her with a questioning look.
"I'm gonna go work on dinner."
"Want some help?"
"No... you stay, okay? You boys need to bond."
Jack chuckled. He felt giddy, almost, like a kid in a candy store.
She turned and crossed the hall to the kitchen. He watched her go. She paused at the door to undo the safety gate, and let the kitchen door close behind her.
"She's remarkable, really something special," he told himself. "She's the one, McCoy, so don't blow it. Don't play your freakin' games."
The puppy had insinuated himself onto Jack's lap, and bounced up to lick him in the face.
He had been playing with the puppy for several minutes when Claire pushed the kitchen door open and said, "Don't tire him out too much just yet....you want to do that just before bedtime so he sleeps for the night."
"Yes Mom," he teased.
"Shut up," she said, then stuck her tongue out at him.
Jack began to play with the puppy, which he did for sometime. Suddenly, from the kitchen, he heard a loud crashing sound, followed by a stream of swear words from Claire. He scooped the puppy up and crossed to the kitchen.
"Having some trouble?" he asked as he pushed the door open to see Claire trying to re-hang one side of the rack that held her pots and pans. He set the puppy down. "Here, let me get that for you."
"Thanks," said Claire as she bent to pick up the pots and pans that had clattered to the floor.
"What happened?"
"I don't know...I was trying to get one of the large pots down so I could do the vegetables, and that one side of the hanging rack came crashing down on me."
He got the hook back onto the chain that hung from the ceiling. "There, that should do it," he told her, then helped her to hang her pots and pans on the rack.
"My hero," she said jokingly, and draped her arms around his neck. "Thanks."
"Think nothing of it," he told her, and rested his hands on her hips. He leaned in for a kiss, which she returned, with pleasure.
What started off as a semi-chaste kiss quickly turned into something more passionate, more intense. Claire's arms tightened around Jack's neck, and he pulled her closer, slipping his arms around to her back, his hands resting just above her behind. A few moments passed thusly, until the puppy, having his fill of food and water, wandered over and sat at their feet, letting out a quiet yip that drew their attention.
They looked down at him and laughed.
"What's the matter boy?" Jack asked.
"I think he's jealous, babe," said Claire.
"Of you?"
"Nope... he's just met you....he's spent the week with me. I think he's jealous of YOU."
Jack bent down and picked him up. The puppy excitedly licked his face.
"There goes that theory," laughed Claire.
"What're we having for dinner?" Jack asked Claire.
"Prime rib, baked potatoes, vegetables, salad and bread."
"Mmmm....sounds wonderful. How much longer until it's ready?" he asked.
"About 40 minutes."
"You sure there's nothing I can do to help?"
"Nope, I'm making dinner," she said. "Why don't you play with the puppy some more?"
"Alright...but if you need me to do anything, just let me know."
"I will."
Jack, puppy in his arms, headed out of the kitchen.
"Jack?"
He turned around.
"You know what you can do for me?"
"What's that?"
"You know that table along the left wall of my living room? The one with the globe and clock and plant?" she asked.
"What about it?"
"Could you clear it off and move it in between the coffee table and the mantle?"
"Of course."
"Thanks."
He set the puppy down and tried to figure out how to set up the safety gate. Several moments later, he gave up.
"Claire? You want to show me how to work this thing?"
She chuckled. "Sure."
Once the gate was up, Jack washed his hands and then disappeared across the hall.
A few minutes later, he appeared in the doorway again, standing on the opposite side of the gate.
"Okay, it's done. Want me to set it?"
"That'd be great," she said. "You know where everything is."
He nodded and stepped over the gate. He washed his hands quickly before pulling the plates, silverware, and glasses from the cupboards and drawers, and set the table as he had offered to do.
When dinner was ready, they carried the food into the living room. Jack had previously lit a fire. Claire lit the candles she'd had Jack set in the middle of the table, then switched on the tree lights, and switched off the lamps. The room glowed from the light of the fire, candles, and twinkling lights of the Christmas tree. Claire turned her stereo on, and lowered the volume as Jack opened the bottle of wine. The scene in her living room was incredibly romantic.
They sat down to eat, Jack, acting the part of the gallant, pulling Claire's chair out and pushing it in for her as she sat. He sat in the chair he'd placed to the left of hers, and poured them both a glass of wine as she started to dish up her food.
They didn't rush their meal, but sat for a goodly amount of time, just eating, drinking wine, and talking. When they were both full, Jack leaned back in his chair and set his napkin on his plate.
"That was wonderful, Claire," he said. "You're a great cook."
"You think I'm good? Just wait until you eat my mother's cooking tomorrow. She can run rings around me in the kitchen. But thank you."
"Do you want to open presents now?" he asked.
"Oh, let's wait until morning?"
"That's fine," he said, "But there is one of yours that I want you to open tonight."
She cocked an eyebrow at him.
"You'll like it," he told her, thinking to himself, "So will I."
"Do you want some coffee?" she asked.
"We still have half a bottle of wine," he told her.
She looked at the bottle sitting on the table. "So we do. Some more?" she asked, lifting the bottle and pouring herself a glass. Jack held his glass up for her, and she filled it, too.
"Did you make anything for dessert?"
"You're still hungry?"
"No...but I might be, later."
"Yes, I have something for dessert."
"Good."
They cleared the table and loaded the dishes in the dishwasher, storing the leftovers in Tupperware, and placing them on the shelves of the refrigerator, except for a few slices of the meat, which Claire cut up very small. She put some in the puppy's dish, and some in Lucy's. The puppy scarfed his down, and then Jack picked him up, and they went out into the living room.
Sitting in front of the fire, watching Jack play with his dog, Claire got an idea.
"Hey..." she began. "Do you want to take him for a walk?"
He looked up at her. "Have you taken him for one yet?"
"No I haven't."
"Do you think he's big enough? It won't be too cold?"
Claire thought for a moment. "Well, I don't know. Lucy is the only pet I've ever had. I think he's big enough. The collar fits him, and it hasn't snowed yet this winter. I think it should be okay. If we get down there and it's too cold, we'll come back up."
"Why not?"
*****
They had stopped in a coffee shop on the way back. Before entering, Jack partially unbuttoned his coat, and placed the puppy inside, buttoning the jacket up again, with Claire's help. They went in and ordered their drinks: a cappuccino for Jack, a non-fat mocha for Claire. Out on the street again, they set the puppy on the ground again, and walking slowly so as not to tax his little legs, they headed for Claire's, drinking their coffee and talking the entire way.
Back in Claire's condo, they polished off their espresso drinks and watched the puppy romp around the living room, playing with his various toys, sniffing corners and the packages Jack had put under the tree.
"Is there any of that wine left?" asked Claire.
"Yes, there was. Do you want more?"
She nodded, and Jack got up to go into her kitchen. He returned a few moments later, with two filled glasses. Claire was on the floor, the puppy in her lap. He was jumping up and down, attempting to grab hold of the tug toy Claire was holding just out of his reach.
"Quit teasing my dog," Jack joked as Claire moved the puppy off her lap and stood, taking one of the glasses from him.
They sat on the sofa, Claire leaning into Jack as he draped an arm over her shoulder. The puppy continued to explore Claire's living room as they watched, laughing at his reaction whenever he encountered something completely foreign to him.
Suddenly Jack stood and walked to the Christmas tree. He retrieved one of the presents he had set there earlier, and walked back over to Claire. He sat next to her, handed her the box, and said, "This is the one I want you to open tonight."
She smiled and set her glass of wine on the table. She pulled the bow apart and it fell, forgotten, to the floor. She eagerly tore into the wrapping paper, and uncovered a Victoria's Secret Box. She started to laugh.
"What?" asked Jack, perplexed.
"Something kind of amusing about the idea of you going into Victoria's Secret. That, and, isn't this going to be more for you than me?"
Jack grinned rakishly. "That was the idea. Christmas gift to myself. Only it's gonna look a helluva lot better on you than me. Open the box."
She opened it, pulled the sticker off the tissue paper, and pulled the sides of the tissue paper apart. She picked up the straps of an ivory coloured sheer lace negligee. When on, it would barely reach the top of her thighs. The breast section had several layers of lace, and therefore was not as sheer as the rest. It was a delicate, satiny feeling lace, and was, as is most Victoria's secret lingerie, beautiful. Beneath the negligee was a set of matching panties, bikini cut, with very thin straps that would rest on her hips.
"Jack..." she said softly, "It's beautiful!"
"You like it?"
"Of course!"
"Good...I was walking by the store, and I saw that in the window, and, well, it just looked like you."
"Thank you!" she said, and leaned over to plant a big kiss on his cheek, that traveled lower, to his lips.
The kiss was interrupted when they heard the rustling of paper, and looked down to see the puppy dragging the discarded wrapping paper into the middle of the living room.
"Would now be a good time to start wearing him out?" asked Jack.
"Yes, it would."
With the two of them working to tire out the pup, in no time at all he was exhausted. Friskiness gone, he lay down in front of the fireplace. As he started to doze, Claire knelt and picked him up. Jack followed as she carried him down the hall into her bedroom, and laid him down on her bed. He seemed to catch a second wind, and bounded to his feet as Jack and Claire headed out the door.
"Uh-oh," said Jack as the puppy yipped as loud as he could. He was at the edge of the bed, peering over at the floor as the he were preparing to launch himself off of it.
In fact, that is exactly what he did, landing with a pathetic yelp, as puppies, unlike cats, do not always land on their feet. Claire rushed to pick him up. She cuddled him close, then sat with him on her bed.
"Jack, c'mere," she said, "We're going to fool him."
"Fool him? How?"
"We're going to lay with him and make him think we're going to sleep, too."
She placed the puppy down on the bed, near the foot of the side she occupied whenever Jack stayed with her (on night's spent alone, she generally slept in the middle of her bed). She lay with her head at the foot of her bed, and began to stroke the soft fur on the puppy's back as he snuggled down next to her.
Jack smiled at the tableaux they presented, then lay down behind Claire. He draped his arm over her so that he, too, might lull his pet to sleep with the soothing touch of his hand. He propped his head up on his other hand, and looked down at Claire. He smiled, then lowered his head to place a gentle kiss on the crook of her neck.
"Thank you for this, Claire," he said softly, "I can't recall having received a more thoughtful, meaningful gift."
"You're welcome, Jack. It was my pleasure."
"Tell me something?"
"Sure," she replied.
"What would you have done if I hadn't wanted him?"
"Welllllll...." she drawled, "I'd have felt like crap. Then I would have had to dump you for your insensitivity and ungratefulness. And I would have kept him for myself."
Jack chuckled so that the bed shook.
"That wasn't a joke," she lied teasingly.
"No? Well then..." and he dug his fingers into her side, tickling her in one of the sensitive spots he'd discovered the night they'd gotten drunk together.
"Jack! Stop!" she gasped through her laughter. "You'll get the puppy too excited and he'll never go to sleep!"
Jack gave her the respite she craved. The puppy had rolled to his back as Claire spoke, and she took advantage of the chubby tummy that was exposed to her due to this posture. Sure enough, as she had mentioned to Jack, his left leg began to shake in time with the motion of her hand. The leg shook faster as she increased the tempo of her rubbing, and both she and Jack laughed softly.
"He really gets that leg going, doesn't he?" inquired Jack.
"Yep."
She stopped rubbing his stomach, and soon he had fallen asleep
"I think he's asleep," said Jack after a minute.
Claire rolled over and rested a hand on Jack's side.
"You do really like him, don't you?"
"Yes, Claire, I do."
"Good," she whispered, and closed her eyes as she leaned her head closer to his.
He felt her warm breath on his face just before he felt her lips on his.
After a moment, she broke the kiss and said, "Lets go back out into the living room."
He nodded and got up, helping Claire up after him. He wrapped an arm around her waist and they walked down the hall together. In the living room, they sat, wordlessly, on the sofa.
"Let's polish off that bottle of wine," said Jack.
"There's still some left?"
"Mmmhmm. I'll go get it."
When Jack was in the kitchen, Claire picked up the box containing her negligee, and hurried down the hall to her bedroom. When jack came back out, she wasn't there, and he figured she must have gone to use the bathroom. He resumed his position on her sofa and waited for her to return.
In her bathroom, Claire was busy putting the nightie on. When it was on, she picked up her brush and brushed her hair out, and then put her discarded clothing into the hamper. On the way out to the living room, she paused by the full length antique mirror in her bedroom, and looked at herself.
"Jack certainly has good taste in lingerie," she said quietly to herself. The negligee looked great on her. The see-through portion of it clung to her body, showing off the curves of her waist and hips. The panties that went along with it were tiny, revealing a fair portion of her pelvis in front, and behind in back. Before heading back to her living room, she pulled her velour robe out of the closet and put it on.
She entered the living room quietly. Jack was sitting on the sofa, staring at the fire. She stepped into his line of sight, robe wrapped tightly around her.
"I was beginning to think you'd fallen in," he said, standing and moving around the coffee table. He approached her, holding both glasses of wine in his hand. They were both a little over half full. "I see you decided to slip into something more comfortable."
"You might say that," she said, taking the glass he offered her, and setting it on the mantle.
"Not thirsty?"
"I am, but I wanted to show you something first."
"Oh?"
With that, she reached down and tugged on the belt of her robe. The robe came open, she eased it off her shoulders, and tossed it so that it landed partially on her easy chair, partially on the floor.
Jack's breath caught in his throat. He let out a low whistle. "I knew it'd look good on you," he said. "You'd make a burlap bag look sexy. But... I... I never expected.... Wow."
Silently, she took his wine glass from him and set it on the mantle with hers. She took a step toward him, and stood on her tip toes so that she could wrap her arms around his neck. His hands came up to rest on her waist, and their lips found one another in a enthusiastic, open-mouthed kiss.
"Merry Christmas," he said when they came up for air.
"To you, too, lover," she replied, then began kissing him again.
She stepped out of his arms and grabbed their wine glasses off the mantle. She inclined her head, indicating that Jack should follow her, and went and sat on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her. Jack sat next to her, crossed his legs, and took his wine glass from her.
When the glasses were empty, he turned to her and reached up to grip the back of her neck with one of his large hands. He pressed her forward, meeting her half way, and closed his lips over hers. He leaned into her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He lifted her slightly and pulled her closer to him, pulled her over onto his lap. She arranged herself so that she was sitting back on his thighs, legs draped on either side of him. She took his face in her hands and kissed him again, feeling his hands sliding slowly down her back, then down over the back of her thighs. He moved them back up again, slipping them beneath the thin fabric of her new nightie.
His hands kneaded her behind before traveling higher to rest in the middle of her back. His kisses trailed away from her mouth, along her jaw line, over to her earlobe, which he gently nibbled. Claire's hands dropped from his shoulders, until she was gripping his waist. After a moment, she started tugging on the sweater he wore. Jack lifted his arms into the air as Claire pulled the sweater over his head. Next, she went to work on the buttons of his white Oxford. Rather than removing it completely, she left in on him, and slipped her hands inside, her palms fluttering over his sides.
Claire stood suddenly and tugged on Jack's hands, pulling him up with her. Hands still in hers, she led him, walking backward herself, down the hall into her bedroom. As they crossed the threshold, Jack swept Claire into his arms, and strode with confidence to her bed. He lay her down, and she reached up for him, and so he quickly joined her, covering her slight frame with his larger one. He kissed her face reverentially, worshipping every inch of her visage with his soft, moist lips.
He felt her small hands manipulating the button-fly of his Levi's, felt her hand sliding inside. Her fingers found and traced his hardness through the thin, silky fabric of his boxer shorts. Jack groaned, and his eyes slid shut when she slipped her hand inside the opening at the front of his boxers, and began to firmly stroke him.
"Like that?" she asked. He could only nod. "I know you do."
He groaned louder as she increased the pressure and tempo of her hand.
"Move for a minute?" she queried, removing her hand.
"What's wrong?"
"I want to be on top, but we can't just roll over or we'll kick your puppy."
Jack nodded and stood. Claire, too, stood, and took hold of Jack's hand, leading him to the over-stuffed chair that lived between her bed and her closet. She pushed him down into a sitting position on the chair, and knelt in front of him. She began unlacing the boots he wore, and worked them off of him. His socks came next, and then she began tugging on the bottom of his pant legs. He lifted his hips and she pulled his pants from him.
Claire stood and Jack leaned forward in the chair, his hands reaching out to rub up and down the backs of her naked thighs. Higher and higher they climbed, and he hooked his fingers in the panties he had just given her, and pulled them down over her long, smooth, shapely legs. She braced her hands on his shoulders as he raised first one leg to slip her foot free of her underwear, and then the other, placing them slightly apart when he lowered each foot again. He looked up at her, and even in the near darkness, he could see her eyes clouded with passion. His hands traveled along the outside of her thighs, dragging her nightie slowly up with them as they continued higher, up over her hips, coming to rest on her waist, looking at her all the while.
He pulled her in closer, his gaze averted to her smooth, flat belly, but not before he saw her eyes flutter and close. He tenderly kissed her stomach. He kissed her navel, and his tongue darted out to play around the rim fleetingly, before thrusting in. Claire sighed heavily, and Jack ran the tip of his tongue slowly downward, over her lower abdomen, her pelvis. He looked up in time to see her head fall back just before he pushed forward again, and began to lave his tongue over the soft skin of her inner thighs with an agonising slowness.
Claire moaned audibly when his tongue began to intimately work over her womanly softness. He pleasured her thusly for some time, until she cried out. Her knees grew week and her body sagged against him. He eased her down onto his lap, so that she was turned slightly sideways to him. A small smile tugged at the corners of Claire's mouth as she cupped Jack's face between her hands. She kissed his forehead, the tip of his nose, his chin, and finally, settled her lips against his. She stood leaning in and kissing him still, and repositioned herself so that she was straddling him.
Her hands kneaded the flesh of his shoulders as they continued kissing, and he reached up to close his hands over her heaving breasts. She moaned again, and squirmed on his lap. After a moment, Jack's hands ran over her shoulders, and he slowly lowered the delicate straps of her negligee, lowering the bodice so that her breasts were exposed. He smiled up at her, and she beamed back, before he lowered his head to take a nipple in his mouth, scoring it lightly with his teeth before beginning to suckle unrelentingly. She could feel the hardness of him pressing up at her from beneath the thin fabric of his boxer shorts.
She eased herself off of his lap and stood. Holding his hands, she said, "C'mon," and inclined her head toward her bed. Jack stood, his passion for her evident in his eyes, and the hard bulge she could see between his legs. She pulled him along with her, and sat on the edge of her bed. He knelt in front of her , eased her legs apart, and positioned himself between her parted thighs. She wrapped her legs around him, smoothed her hands over his silk-boxer clad behind, then tugged his underwear down. Jack massaged the tops of her thighs, his eyes trained on hers, then reached to his left for her nightstand drawer.
Claire gripped Jack's buttocks as he entered her, both sighing raggedly as he slid all the way inside her.
"You feel so good, babe," he whispered into her ear, as he stayed still within her, just pulsing inside her, reveling in the liquid hot pleasure their union created.
"Oh, God, Jack, so do you," she said huskily.
They started to move together, rocking in time with one another, their sighs and moans mingling.
"Shhh," she whispered against his lips, "we'll wake up the puppy."
They tried for a moment to be quiet, but their passion for each other was too great, and they could not. Jack covered Claire's mouth with his, effectively stifling a good deal of the noise they were making. He eased her back and joined her on the bed, still pumping in and out of her. His fingers tugged at her nipples as he thrust into her over and over.
"Claire..." he moaned into the near dark of the room, "Claire," as his stomach tightened, and his body began to spasm his release. He kept moving within her, and the sensation of him jerking within her triggered her own release, her nails digging into the flesh of his behind, feeling the muscles contract and release beneath her hands.
When it was over, they lay clinging to each other, whispering words of love to one another that were almost unintelligible in the wake of their intense passion. They had the presence of mind to stand, pull the covers back, and get into the bed together. The puppy had sprawled out on the foot of the bed, leaving them space equivalent to that of a twin bed, and so they lay sandwiched together, limbs entwined, Claire's head resting in the crook of Jack's neck.
Soon, the sound of their hearts beating and their slow breathing lulled them to sleep.
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