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"You worry when he's late and you fidget when you worry. Drink this."
She nearly laughed at how reminiscent it seemed, a mother setting a drink down with the direct order of 'Drink this.'. It instantly reminded her of her own mother's no-nonsense approach to most everything, eliciting a bittersweet smirk as she glanced over the short tumbler Serafina had set in front of her.
She didn't have to ask what it was - the mossy scent of well-aged whiskey warmed her as she leaned over it and breathed it in. Irish whiskey, likely. Something earthy, a taste that sat heavy at the back of the tongue and warmed its way down the throat.
She wasn't quite sure how the restaurant owner had known she needed a drink but the commentary gave her a clue.
She hadn't realized she was so damn transparent. "You don't have to, Serafina. Honestly."
"Bah, these feet could use a break," the older woman countered, sagging onto the next stool over and giving out a long exhale. Her arm came up against the bar and she blinked Jack a knowing smile, winking as she set her chin into her palm. "You worry. The way a wife worries."
"He usually calls me. I mean, if he's going to be late."
"Sometimes he calls me instead." Serafina smiled, her face beautiful with secreted knowledge and dark eyes glossed with humor. They were up to something and Jack squinted in answer as the older woman shrugged her supposed innocence. "Asks me to bring you a drink and distract you."
"He didn't. What're you two up to?"
Serafina gave her a broad smile and reached over with her free hand, nudging the drink closer to her. "He's a good man, Jacqueline."
"He is."
"A good husband," she added.
"We'll see about that one, I think," Jack teased through genuinely good-hearted laughter as she lifted her hand and fiddled at the wedding band on her finger. The weight of it was something she still kept finding herself surprised by, its presence something she wasn't used to being the norm yet. "Wife Number Five."
"He's told me." Serafina gave her a shrug and waved off the unspoken hint of concern. "We had a talk, he and I."
Oh, really…? "About me?"
"About you. About being a good husband."
"Your family is so sweet to us." Jack sighed as her fingers found the rim of the whiskey glass and she rounded it slowly as the restaurant matriarch stood.
"Here we take care of family," the woman told her with a curt nod and no pause, no question as she stood as to whether they belonged in the category of family or not. She felt her throat constrict, her heart stuttering as she met Serafina's dark eyes. The conspiratorial wink she got was better than any gift of whiskey. "Finish this. I'll start you some calamari?"
Jack smiled as she nodded, eyes going shut with appreciation as she cherished the soft warmth of the hand on her shoulder. "Thank you."
***
He knew it was probably purely his imagination but his jacket pocket felt heavier as he leaned over her shoulder to kiss into the heat of her hair. Her hand lifted fast, purely reflexive but tempered when her fingertips touched along his jaw and then spread along his cheek. She made a moan of appreciation as she turned closer into his kiss, loud enough for him to hear.
"You make your wife dine alone? I could have been lured away by a handsome younger man," Jack murmured as she indulged in his affectionate proximity, her fingertips slowly roughing along his stubble.
"That's why I sent Serafina. She wouldn't let another man within five feet of you," he shot back, moving around the table and forcing her to let go of the sleeve that he hadn't even realized she'd grasped onto. He pressed the inside of his wrist along his jacket pocket just to be sure of the added weight, the shape of the box prodding back at him. "I had to pick something up."
He'd had to fulfill a promise, one that had been made in a Mexican hotel room as he'd watched her dress.
A promise that was born of the first moment he'd seen the antique engagement ring at the shop he liked in Falls Church.
That ring had reminded him of her since the first double take he had taken over the glass jewelry case.
"That ring needs a very specific sorta woman." He had been drawn in by the brunette behind the counter, her smile easy going but strong, confident as she tapped the jewelry case.
Their attention had settled in combination on the ring that was set aside to itself, yellow gold and a sharply oblong cut diamond sitting vertical but low in the band, cushioned by it and other sparkled flecks along each side. It was elegant and chic but independently interesting, the way the band cradled the stone making it so secure, comforting.
A specific sorta woman reminded him of all those things. Not that he could usually bring himself to admit it… "Happen to know one of those."
"Yeah? Marquise cuts are pretty strong. Not everyone can pull them off."
"This one can."
She'd squinted at him then, turning her jaw just slightly as she'd studied his body language. The quiet and innocuous judgment in her stance had been impressive. It'd made him appreciate her opinion more than before. "But not yet."
"Not yet."
"I ordered your steak." Jack's voice brought him back, drew his attention to the lift of her glass, the easy prettiness of her as she'd smiled.
He frowned as he sat, despite the memory, the napkin halfway to his lap as his glance settled on the calamari between them. "Was that your idea or hers?"
"Don't give me that look. People who are late forfeit the right to judge the appetizers."
"Even if they bring gifts?"
Her eyes went sharp and bright and he very suddenly realized that knowledgeable discernment seemed to be something he was deeply attracted to… Interesting. "Depends on the gift."
Gibbs grinned, reaching for her whiskey glass. "You'll see."
***
It was the ring that caught his lungs up later that night when they were half sacked across his couch and sleepy. Well, the ring and the sinfully fucking gorgeous woman wearing it (and nothing much else beyond one of his henleys).
He couldn't look away from her long slender fingers as she stroked over her face, skin flushed and hot. Her hand drove into her hair and tangled restlessly into the blonde, the diamond sparking by firelight and, hell, he knew exactly how cliche it was. Didn't change the fact that any time he could get his hand between her legs in privacy, he was damn sure gonna see to it.
He was still astounded by the fact that she had married him… A month and a half into their marriage and he still questioned reality's existence daily.
"Goddamn it, Gunny," she shivered her head into his chest, cuddling up higher against him on the couch. One hand rested on his shoulder as she curled in and shifted her weight, the other catching his jaw. Her hips drove upwards into the way he was teasing her, his fingers slick and slow as he rhythmically stroked in and out of her. The half reclined position was awkward and he'd have a cramp at some point but he didn't plan on being in the same position for all that much longer. Especially not when she inched higher up against him, her thighs straddling his left leg and pinning his hand between them.
That damn ring made him smile as she reached for his jaw, the feel of her hand against his cheek, knowing that the way her skin was flushed had warmed the band beyond body temperature.
"I can stop."
"You wanna test me?" she asked, the whole of it sounding more to him like a challenge than anything. Especially when she laughed into the moan she pressed to his jaw and rubbed her lips against his skin.
He kissed her sharp in answer before nipping on her bottom lip. Gibbs turned his wrist and pressed his thumb against her clit, feeling her shiver closer. "In very many ways, yes."
Her hand turned slowly down the front of him, teasing back and forth between the buttons of his flannel and very purposely distracting him. "Then you asked for it."
The smug reply he had lined up dissipated from his brain as her hips rose closer and her hand brushed against his thigh, very obviously heading right toward his crotch. Gibbs shifted just enough, her knee pressing weight to the cushion beside his hip as she kissed him, intense and strong.
Jack liked to tease him, long con teases that kept him hard, kept him sensitive to her touch. It was nothing for her to spend the day finding surreptitious ways to make his skin hum and his breathing go slow and shallow.
"Stop," she pressed his wrist as she said it, her voice gentle as the muscles in his forearm clenched in response.
The stroke of her fingers and then the way she circled his wrist brought his hand slowly up from between them, her teeth trapping a whimper in her mouth as he let go and let her lift from his wrist. Her whole body arched farther forward and he stretched long and low against the cushions to support them. Her kiss was smooth, purposely gentle and paced. It was also meant as a distraction considering her hand brushed over his cock at the same time, fingertips teasing fabric, nails tracking up his zipper.
Gibbs clenched his hand into her (his) shirt, feeling the grunt of surprise catch in his throat as she squeezed against him, her palm enclosing the exact line of his erection and the way his jeans had twisted a trap against his thigh.
"You're catching on quick tonight." Her voice had a haze to it, blurred by comfort and welcoming warmth.
"I'm sixty five, hon," Gibbs reminded her, feeling his own voice go a little muzzy with distraction, self-conscious. "Some nights are quicker than others, some nights take forever."
"I'm your wife, Gibbs. I'm aware."
He saw her satisfied smirk when his body answered for him, hips pressing upward in response to the apparent unrealized codeword. She called herself his wife, hand between his legs, ring on her finger, and his cock strained under the pressure of her palm. He watched the smile brighten as his own face flushed with heat.
Admittedly, Jacqueline Sloane rarely had to try doing anything to get him in the mood to get closer, and closer. The smell of her shampoo near his shoulder could get him half hard on a good day, especially if she was snuggled up to him in bed. Most especially if she was also sleep-tossed and her hair was mussed up.
It was so simple, just answering him the way a man's wife would. The newness of it, though… The sweet novelty of her proclaiming the tainted title and doing it so easily, proudly…
"Whatever you're thinking about? Don't stop." She brushed her lips along his jaw, her whisper sitting hot against his skin as her hand kept up its tease, rhythmic and consistent. "It's doin' the trick."
"Just you," he admitted as he tried to shift his hips and relieve some of the pressure. She had pinned him in, though, used her body as leverage against his hips and her knee between his was insurance.
He should have known that she wouldn't stand down from a challenge. Not if it meant she could tease him into oblivion from the comfort of their couch, lounged up along his entire body and locking him in place.
"Just me, huh? How so?" The pleased giddiness of her tone overrode any attempt at being coquette-ish. Which, in all actuality, was ten times sexier. He would always, always, appreciate being able to please her. "Tell me."
"Just you, Jack. Just…everything about you is sexier than it should be," he exhaled hard, sighing between them as he lifted his right hand and caught her face close. "Never wanted another wife."
She half smiled over him, driving the heel of her palm down his erection, skidding against denim and pulling a groan up his throat. So much heat had pooled between her hand and the fabric of his jeans, her fingers a constant shifting tease against where he was already straining against denim. "But here I am, huh? Ruined your plans?"
Her fingernails dragged different points of pressure back up his length, all slow and mesmerizing and smoldering. Every place where she touched him was burning, from her nose brushing his cheek down to the way the arch of her left foot had braced balance against his ankle.
Every point of contact between the two of them was hot to the touch. Especially where her fingers had started rounding the head of his cock right through his pants, all warm pressure. "Jesus, Jack."
"Can you come for me?"
He shook his head abruptly, turning his face into her neck, letting her hair curtain him into the known smell of her. His lips stumbled against her throat, breathing starting to get jittery and ragged, "Not like this."
"Oh, I think you can. You're so close." Her answer was near his ear and low, voice gently encouraging as she started stroking up and down his hard on. Her voice was always so seductively husky when she brushed her lips along his ear or jaw or cheek. "Please?"
His whole lower body gave up on holding still and he didn't have much to say about it, his frame jolting enough to make her hum approval, pelvis pressing upward. His hips met the way she doubled her pressure, the near squeeze of her fingers stroking up and down and blowing any conscious thought to pieces.
"There it is," she murmured, kissing along the flex in his jaw, his teeth clenched and skin hot. Jesus, she was a devilish woman some days, her beautiful body sprawled up him, smelling like him, touching him relentlessly while whispering encouragement. She was gentle but insistent, persistent, stubborn. There was no giving in 'til she got what she wanted, he knew that much. "You're getting closer."
"Jacqueline." It could have been a beg but he made it a benediction instead, her name exhaled off his lips as he dropped his head back hard against the arm of the couch.
"Come in your pants for me, Gibbs." So fucking sultry, all hot whisper and the feel of her lips, her breath. "I promise you'll feel better."
He couldn't help but groan, back arching and jamming his shoulders against the couch arm. His breath was stuttered, ragged and louder than he wanted. His teeth ached. "Rather come in you."
"I know, sweetheart," she whispered, the barest hint of a laugh (not teasing but proud) in her voice as she kissed him. Her lips pressed his so softly that he grunted when he felt her undo the zipper on his jeans. The sudden slide of pressure, the release of heat and the taunt of her fingers tugging on his boxers… He stopped breathing, the back of his head bearing down hard on the couch arm.
That wasn't the deal.
That was what would actually make him come, just the way she wanted him to…
And he nearly came when her fingers traced against him, slow and sure as she turned her mouth to the corner of his. His pelvis lifted, thrust into her touch as she laughed again, the sound brushing warmth breath along his cheek.
"You're so stubborn," she whispered just before curling her fingers around him and giving a good squeeze. "Think you've married your match though, Gunny."
The groan he gave up was involuntary, head turning just enough for him to lift into kissing her. His right hand caught into the loose blonde hair that had been tickling at his face, fingers curling through it as he sent his tongue against hers. He controlled the kiss, the force of it, the intensity that built as soon as she whimpered her surprise. Gibbs sent his other hand as far down her back as he could, movement limited but fingers sure as he gathered the henley up and bunched so that he could get a handful of her and not the fabric.
She pulled out of the kiss sharply, as though she knew how close he was, her eyes blackened and deep as she studied his face. He watched her tongue swipe against where he'd bit against her bottom lip, heard her breathing shiver. He knew then that there was no chance of getting inside her, not when she turned her wrist so that it was easier to tease him and the look on her face went twice as determined.
He should have just given in…
"That's it," she murmured against his jaw, damn near purring as she leaned back down and kissed his cheek, "Equally stubborn wife trumps Marine Corps discipline, huh?"
He gave in, let his hips relax and go loose against the couch. His fingers enjoyed the softness of her hair and she put her lips right in front of his ear with a "Shhhh" just a millisecond before he came against his thigh, messy and uncontrolled and just the way she wanted. Her desire had hit him hard, meeting with his own and slamming the orgasm into him to the feel of her lips on his cheek and the sound of her whispered breathing.
There hadn't really been a question as to whether or not she'd get what she wanted. Not since the moment she had taken the ring from him at dinner and moaned, biting her bottom lip up as a half pout. The color in her eyes had softened, caramelized, and her approval had twisted him closer across the table.
She'd matched that engagement ring to her wedding band and coming in his pants had been a pretty strong likelihood (an inevitability) for the rest of the evening.
Jack sighed her delight onto his cheek, spreading her fingers downward and making him unintentionally flinch as she slicked her fingers against the head of his cock. His whole face flushed hot under her soothing kisses, trying to duck the embarrassment that had him feeling like a goddamn teenager again. Gibbs tried to shy his face into her throat and just got an answering shake of her head and a sound of disregard. His ears were burning, smoldering hot even as she kissed him.
"That was pretty hot, you know?" Her face was lit up with pleasure, thrilled as she met his eyes and smiled even wider. His lungs loosened slightly at the sight of how happy he'd made her, how pleased she was. Her hand pulled slowly up from rumpled fabric and he smirked just before she kissed him, still feeling residual heat on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He felt her slide her hand comfortingly up his side, his tongue meeting hers as she made a soft sound, something purely satisfied.
"Well," he snorted, catching her close in both arms and tucking her tight. "Now you're definitely showering with me."
"Gladly." Her laughter got caught in his shirt collar, both her arms circling his ribs as she sighed. "Serafina was right."
"Do I wanna know what about?"
Her smile rubbed up behind his ear, "Probably not."