AN: Hi everybody! I'm in a very happy mood today (got my semi-annual check-up yesterday and I'm doing just fine)...which menas you now have to suffer with some fluffy sweetness...and the last chapter of this story. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: All I own is my health (which is most important after all), so sadly I don't own the characters of JAG...oh well...
Here we go...
Harm's POV
This isn't lovemaking, this is fast and greedy, but neither of us seem to mind. We haven't been teasing the other one for just this night, but more like these past years.
And now, we don't have time for slow and tender, though I'll make time later. She deserves slow and tender…if she wants it. But she's just as frantic as I am.
I kiss, nibble, caress every piece of skin that gets uncovered and it seems like Mac has five pairs of hands as I can feel them everywhere. It hasn't been this good since…oh hell, it's never been this good ever. Period.
Normally, I'm not the kind of man who lets go easily. Being a pilot, it means I have to focus 100 percent or die (or get my RIO killed) and I have suffered dire consequences every time my attention got diverted even the slightest. As a result, that knowledge, that way of life, is embedded in everything I do, including my actions in the bedroom, with every woman I've shared my or her bed with.
Not with Sarah. Nothing will happen to me if I give myself to Sarah. I won't die if I surrender control. In fact, I'll die if I won't, my whole body is screaming for it. So yes, I surrender, hoping she's feeling it too, feeling as loved as I do…
Mac's POVAfter hours, and don't ask me how many, because I have no clue as my inner clock is most definitely and permanently out of whack, he stirs, propping himself up on one arm as not to squash me beneath him, gently pushing some stray hairs out of my eyes with the other one.
"Hi."
He sounds hoarse, shy and damn sexy. What, shy? Really, it's the only way I can describe it. Not regretful, not insecure…just shy. Like he needs a review of his performance. He needn't worry about that at all. I mean, this took hours. HOURS! And he's closing in on forty.
With one finger I trail the small stubble appearing on his cheeks. He's so beautiful, it makes me shy too. Somehow the fact I just made the most incredible love with the only man who ever mattered hasn't quite settled in yet. If it's half as…intimidating for him as it is for me, then I can understand why he suddenly sounds so vulnerable.
"Hi yourself."
He grins at me and gently pecks my lips, teasingly holding back when I arch my back to capture more. When I groan in unsuppressed frustration, he just smiles and gives in anyway. Breaking contact after a while, he looks at me with a sweet mixture of concern and humor.
"Weren't we supposed to talk?"
We were, weren't we? Somehow we got a little sidetracked. Wonder how hat happened? At least I didn't hear him complain. I decide to tell him as much.
"I think our body language speaks volumes, doesn't it? At least I didn't hear you complain. Unless those moans were only from the effort it takes at your age, not from pleasure?"
"Are you assuming something, Marine?"
I love this, the teasing, the bantering, the loving. This is how it's always supposed to work between us. Maybe we are getting it right this time.
"I might be, Sailor."
He grins easily at me, the smile that sends the electric bolts through me. I shiver when his fingertip trails a path between my breasts.
"Give me a few minutes to catch my breath and I'll prove you wrong my dear, Very, very wrong indeed."
"Can't wait."
No, really, I'm not lying. One would think that after a night like this I'd be out cold, but hell no, I'm wide awake and I'm in need of his love yet again. I've got years of innuendo and miscommunication to erase. He grins and pulls me on top of him. His searing kiss is just a promise of what's to come.
"I should teach you some patience, dear Marine. It would do you a lot of good to show some restraint."
"Says the man who's just made it impossible for me to wear my uniform next Monday."
His puzzled look is so cute it almost makes me lose track of the conversation.
"Come again?"
"Gladly."
"Ma-ac. Head out of gutter and answer the question. What on earth do you mean by not being able to wear your uniform. Not that I object to you not wearing your uniform as I certainly like you better without it..."
He nibbles my earlobe before I can remind him to get his own head out of that same gutter and hear him gasp when he finds the answer to his own question perched directly at my pulse underneath my right jaw line.
"Oh now I see."
His fingertip traces the outline of what has to be the world's most horrendous hickey and I can hear him chuckle. I'll be damned if he's not proud if it too, stupid Squid.
"Admiring your handiwork, Flyboy?"
"It's a regular Picasso! Besides, I don't think hands were involved, Mac. Lips maybe..."
His voice trails off as his lips nip at the love-bite. Instantly my temperature rises, but I refuse to let him know it.
"Don't you dare make it any worse!"
"Come on Mac, nothing some make-up can't cure."
Who does he think I am? Michael freakin' Jackson? I own my girly share of make-up, but not that much. Max Factor doesn't deliver in gallon-sized containers.
"Harm, it's the size of Cuba!"
"Nah, Jamaica, maybe, but it doesn't look like Cuba at all."
Great. A lesson in topography by Harmon Rabb. If this wasn't the most unbelievable situation I've ever found myself in already, I would have to say that he was making me crazy. It's impossible to stay mad at him or to keep up with the topic of conversation while he's so thoroughly enjoying himself with the slow continuous torture of his victim of choice. Namely me.
He keeps nuzzling, kissing and nipping at the already tainted spot, softly humming in himself. I groan in a combination of pleasure and annoyance as I quickly lose trail of my thoughts. Why was I annoyed again?
"Harm, what do you think you're doing?"
"Shhh. I'm going for the Cuba-size mark here."
I almost let him. That space on my neck has forever been my weak spot, but no man before Harm has ever taken so much trouble in finding that out. So of course I'm not mad at him, how could I be?
I mean, I wasn't exactly giving him any red lights when he put it there. But the bigger this hickey gets, the harder it will be to hide and I don't want anybody seeing it yet. Office scuttlebutt is dreadful enough as it is. So as much as I would want him to continue, I have to stop him for my own good.
"Cut it out, Squid!"
"In a minute…"
He's making me so weak…I almost let him…gotta…gotta stop him…need…ammo…
I grab a pillow and start beating him with it. At least it gets his lips away from the task as, laughing, he takes the bait and engages himself from pillow-talk into pillow-fight. I only hope he knows I'm not trying to hurt him in any way.
Just as I'm about to remind him, he snatches the pillow away from me and tosses it...well, somewhere. I don't care, my room is a mess anyway. His hands and lips now become his more effective weapons of choice and what else can this Marine do but surrender? Harm takes no prisoners in the time after that.
Harm's POVThis dating Mac thing takes me from one premiere to another. First, I totally let myself go in her arms, knowing without a doubt that she'll catch me when I fall.
To my surprise, she takes it all in. Literally as well if figuratively. One more reason it was so hard for me to give in with other women was the fact that most of them seemed to withhold themselves, in every aspect. When they do that, it's hard to make love to them.
There are lots of euphemism for making love. I won't get into them, because some of them don't do the process of lovemaking any justice. What I'm trying to say is that making love, in my point of view, should be joyful, fun, great. No borders, no barrels…except for what makes your partner feel uncomfortable.
But I guess letting go and simply having fun enjoying each others love only works if you have enough trust in the other one. And that's where all my other relationships have failed. And it's why this one works.
So we have fun. After our initial 'ramp-strike' we both hit the breaks, shifted gear to an easier motion, but still we don't run out of energy, nor fantasies that finally can and therefore should and will be fulfilled. We kiss, we play, we laugh, we banter…nothing new for us, except for the love-making part. The rest goes to show exactly how much trust we've invested in the other one.
She can't even stay mad at me when I found my work of art on her neck. I have to admit it's the most perfect hickey I've ever given a girl and she ought to be lucky she's the one sporting it. And with the myriad of make-up stuff that's now scattered on the floor, she should have enough to cover a dozen of those…hmmm…a dozen more kisses and nibbles to come…
I don't get too far with that idea as my honest attempt gets sabotaged by a pillow. Another game starts immediately. If my Sarah wants to engage herself into a pillow-fight, I'll give it my best shots. This Marine will take a beating, one way or the other.
She's so amazingly beautiful, naked on her bed, smashing a white pillow against my chest…I make a grab for it and seamlessly shift her and myself into another 'game', the one we're so good at…and the one that involves dozens kisses and nibbles…Go Navy!
Mac's POV
When we're finally and totally worn out, it's almost dawn. But it's a Saturday, so I'm in no particular hurry. With a sigh of pure satisfaction I crawl against Harm's warm chest, relishing in his body heat and the smell that's now an intoxicating combination of myself, my laundry detergent, our lovemaking and Harm. I'm giddy and happy. Oh...and sleepy.
Suddenly, Harm chuckles just a little, the ripple coursing through his body sending goose bumps through mine.
"What's so funny, Sailor?"
"Weren't we supposed to talk?"
Talk? About what? Oh, right. I remember. I also remember him asking this before.
"Asked and answered, counselor."
"Could you repeat the answer?"
"I wish I knew it. We just have to stop getting sidetracked every time one of us opens his or her mouth."
He looks at me with an endearing fake accusing expression. The mere sight of it melts my bones. I swear, I'm soup. Liquid, warm and apparently very eatable. I'm so absorbed in lovingly gazing in the beautiful eyes of Harmon Rabb, that I almost miss his next retort.
"That's because you only open your mouth to do everything but talking."
Look who's talking. I didn't put that spot on my neck and I'm sure I'll find several others upon closer inspection. Must look like I got the plague by now. As a matter of fact…so does he. Hmmm, maybe they'll quarantine us together…I like the way you think, Marine…besides, it wasn't like he was complaining, again.
"Haven't heard you complain."
"I got some eerie sense of deja-vu here."
I grin. I'm happy. H-A-P-P-Y. I'm in love, lying naked and satisfied in the arms of the man I love, which implies that he's in love with me too. We're bantering. Pillow-talk with Harmon Rabb. Finally. Life can't get any better. Only I have to answer.
"Then stop asking me the same questions over and over again."
"Well, I've forgotten to ask you one question."
"What's that Sailor?"
"Do you kiss on the first date?"
I'm trying my hardest not to laugh. Somehow he's managed to get the single most redundant question ever asked out of his mouth without even twitching and the least I can do is answer him in the same style.
"Depends on the date, I guess."
"What, you got a check-list or something?"
"Uh-huh. Of course. Every woman has one."
"Might I ask what's on these lists?"
"Lots of things, depending on the woman in question."
He looks at me expectantly, like he's about to discover the whereabouts of the Holy Grail. Maybe, to a man, it is. Though I never figured he would take it seriously. Men!
"So, what's on yours?"
"Classified. Need to know. You're not cleared."
"Mac, you've been hanging out with a certain spook for too long. Now, what does a guy need to do to gain access to one such list?"
"Do everything right, of course."
"What's everything? Everything of what?"
Oh I adore egging him on. This pillow-talk is getting way out of control, but I just love him. He's so much like an eager puppy, ready to please his master. Ohhh, kinky. Let's store this thought for future reference...back to eager puppy, eh, Flyboy.
"Everything on the list, dumbass."
"So in order to be able to get to the list, I have to get good marks for that same list, but how can I do everything right on a list I haven't seen yet?"
Jeez, Rabb, when you think about something, you really think about it, don't you? I hope I haven't set myself up for the fall here. Better save the situation, better retreat, slowly and tactically.
"Harm, darling sweet adorable Squid of mine, never mind about that list. You would have passed it anyway. With flying colors...and other assorted pieces of clothing."
"I would, huh? Still wanna know what's on yours."
"Just the basics, really. Loyalty, trust, compassionate, with a good sense of humor and if he's cute, that could be an advantage of course."
He seems to mull this over, chewing on his lower lip. Hey, wait a minute, that's my job now! When I playfully kiss him, he grins and returns the favor, before dropping back against the pillow with me propped up on his chest.
"So I guess I score well on some parts. I can be loyal, I'm usually very trustworthy, I cry at sad occasions and I'm known to laugh once in a while. Only that cute part…"
"Don't worry about the cute part. There's enough cuteness in you to go around."
"Oh…well, in that case…"
He sits up, putting his feet on the floor…what the…
"Where do you think you're going?"
He grins at me, playfully.
"Well, I thought that, since I got, and I quote 'enough cuteness to go around', I might as well go spread it around."
Like hell he is! With more force than in I intended to, I yank him back in bed, which makes him topple over me.
Harm's POVOkay…I guess this means she won't share me. Hmmm…interesting. She's getting proprietary. Good sign/bad sign? Let me think. Good sign, I suppose.
She leans over to kiss me and this kiss is unlike any we've shared this entire night. It's so full of pure and simple, undeniable love, I can feel my heart thump in my throat. Whatever she said or did or joked about all night is summed up in this kiss…she loves me.
I love her.
Definitely a good sign..
Mac's POVGently I lean over to capture his lips in a kiss that's different from the ones we've been giving each other these passed hours. This one's...not on any list I've ever seen.
I hope he feels that I love him, don't want to share him, don't want to let him slip away again, like all other times before. When we end it, he looks a little cross-eyed and so totally beautiful I just have to sigh.
"So you felt it too?"
Oh yeah, I did. Without a doubt I know what he means. For once, just once, we're on the same page. Without a fight, without much of a talk. Guess we don't need to talk if we can convey so much of our feelings in a kiss…
"I felt it. Straight down to my...toes."
He grins, knowing exactly what I wanted to say instead. His hand sneaks down to gently brush my... toes and I moan softly. His grin is almost evil as I lean closer to him, shamelessly begging for more of his exquisite touch. Just as easily, he gives it to me, all the subtle touches I ache for. Damn Harmon Rabb for being this good. Here we go again.
"I love you, Sarah MacKenzie."
I love you too, Harmon Rabb. With all my pink lipstick heart."
He laughs and gathers me in his arms, to do a lot more than kissing on the first date.
THE END