Ch. 14: Sunny's Kiss

August 22 | Night

"Are strike-throughs and revisions allowed?" I asked the empty apartment. "On second thought, maybe throw this entire entry away. Confounded! I should have done this before meeting with Wallace."

I crumpled several sheets of notes and tossed them in the wastebasket. Per the phone lockscreen, I had been at the escritoire for the past hour, combing through handwritten report. I was stuck on a particularly droll description of Mal's shopping spree. Paring down of my report was sorely needed. An abhorrent number of private musings had made it into the book. Why did my mentor need to know my reaction to Jack's new cologne?

Someone knocked at the door. I ran a hand over my exhausted face and skirted the Eames chairs, wondering who could be calling this late. It was Jack through the peephole, sweaty and sickly-looking. I swung the door open.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"Hey, is your job hiring?" He barged inside. Jumpy eyes darted around my living space before landing on me. I eased down the lid to the escritoire. The last thing I needed was for him to get a glimpse of my ledger.

"Hm, AngelGuard only hires former military guys, ex-law-enforcement, stuff like that. Why?"

"You want me to be honest?"

I pointed him toward a seat, and he shoved his fingers through his hair with a gusty sigh. Instead of sitting, he paced. The standing lamp cast shadows across his troubled features. I stood there, proffering a beer that he ignored. Pacing, pacing. Each pass in front of me brought a waft of that damnable custom scent. To make matters worse, he ripped off his t-shirt, complaining it was hot. His agitation thrummed the air. A discordant note that twanged against the soothing piano music playing in the background.

I placed the cold brew on a side table to lay a palm on his bare shoulder. "Talk to me."

His eyes connected with mine. Warmth radiated from my fingertips. Specks of light that he couldn't see collected around the outline of my hand. In the dimly lit room, they glowed like constellations. I infused calm and tranquility into my touch, and the tension bunching his muscles eased. I was surprised by the gloss of his tears.

"You can talk to me," I coaxed him.

"Did you know slavery was never fully outlawed in Louisiana?" Jack wrapped the shirt around his neck, sank into a chair, and bowed his head into his hands. Divine Touch had taken the edge off, at least. "Yeah, drive over to the state prison, and you'll see modern-day slaves. The warden hired–so say, 'hired'–a couple of us guys to build his half-a-million-dollar house from the ground up. Wanna know what he paid us? Get this, a new piece of shop equipment that belonged to the goddamn prison!

"Now, don't laugh. We jumped at that opportunity. You wouldn't believe how much a simple phone call out can cost, man." He lifted his gaze. The tears were gone, replaced by a sardonic smile. "But, hell, whether we wanted their peanuts or not, you try turning down the fella who gets the final say on your release date."

He chuckled bitterly until discomfort filled the silence. I looked at him without words. Finally, he went on, "I saw that asshole transfer an inmate out to a worse pen than ours all because the guy was savvy enough to make too much money selling wares at the annual rodeo. Imagine that."

"I can't," I acknowledged.

I sat in the opposite chair and listened empathetically. I had difficulty following everything he was telling me, but I knew the location he was talking about was the most notorious prison in the state, and I was aware of laws that permitted drastically underpaying inmates for labor. What he was implying sounded like an abuse of the system. I still didn't know how it applied to him wanting to work for AngelGuard.

Jack cracked open the beer and said, "I mean, it'd be different if we were talking about unskilled workers, but some of the best artisans and craftsmen in our state are in that place. We're talking cabinet-makers, leatherworkers, painters, metalsmiths. Those guys spend every free minute honing their skills, and for what? For the fucking penal system to screw them out of their earnings and break them down to nothing."

My gaze went over his hunched, shirtless form, back to his soulful eyes. "Is that what you feel they did to you?" I asked.

"My parents don't get it." Shaking his head, Jack slouched further in his seat. "They think I have an aversion to making an honest living. You know how much unpaid work I've already put in? Left and right, they're telling me, 'Try this place, try that place.'"

I tilted my head back in understanding. "They want you to get a job and get on your feet, but on paper, you're unskilled and underemployed. Am I right?"

"And my folks want me to start from the bottom," he clucked his tongue derisively. "Guess what, Ma! Hiring managers don't give a fuck if I was wrongfully convicted. I walk in with an application, and they see an ex-con, 'cause whether I did the crime or not, the trauma of being institutionalized doesn't just wash off."

"So, you're in a rut."

"I'm not in a rut!" he exploded. "I have a job. Why do you think Mal keeps throwing around money like she does?"

"Why does she?" I inched forward. I was curious. What was the hold she had over him?

He cut his eyes suspiciously. "I can't talk about it. The point is that I have a solid plan for getting my life on track, and I'm sick of being treated like a criminal. I am not the bad guy."

Not the bad guy. Jack had made the same emphatic statement in past conversations. What level of soul-searching was going on in the background, forcing him to keep reiterating his rightness? Whatever revenge plot Mal had gotten him tangled in wasn't as rewarding as it appeared on the surface. His physical condition upon entering my apartment had been alarming. He looked ill.

"Well, I'm here for you," I said, patting his knee. "But I'm worried about you, man. Stress kills. You have to lighten up. Your parents will come around. Tell you what, AngelGuard contracts its drivers. I'll let Lois know I can put in a word for you in that department."

Jack scoffed, though he tried to hide his disdain for the job offer. Maybe he didn't want to hear the truth, but no one could help him secure his future if he wouldn't help himself. Mal's easy way out was a deadend.

"Everything that glitters isn't gold, Jack," I added quietly. "You stand to lose so much if you don't value this good life and make the best of it."

"Argh, another lecture on appreciation and gratitude?" He grunted a laugh. "Listen, thanks, Sunny. I appreciate how you keep coaxing me out of depression, especially with the martial arts class...which, incidentally, brings me to my other reason for stopping by."

"Oh?" I parked an elbow on the armrest of my chair. His expression said he wasn't changing subject just to throw me off.

"Kato," we said at the same time. Jack grinned.

"Ah," I smiled ruefully. "You want me to make an exception on the permission slip."

"I'll sign the permission slip. Better yet, I'll assume full responsibility for them. The kid needs a grounding influence in their life, and I feel like we can be that for them."

"We?" I giggled as I got up to throw away the empty beer bottle.

"Yes, we. Admit it. We make a great team, Sunny."

Upon my return to the chairs, Jack rose in all his shirtless glory. I stifled a sigh. How did he manage to lose his clothing every time he came to my place? A fine trail of body hair chased the contours of his torso to the jeans hanging loosely at his hips. He took hold of the shirt draped at his neck and appraised me.

"Why are you gawking at me like that?" I smirked. We were too close. I stood in the thick of his erotic smell–a treacherous place for weakness–so I backpedaled.

"Hey." Jack caught my waist.

Like clockwork came the faster heart rate, deeper breathing. I licked my lips and tried not to stare at any part of him. I had been thoroughly, if subtly, reprimanded by Wallace. I'd spent the day erasing the evidence of my attraction to Jack from my ledger. I had meditated and prayed for increased focus. Yet, my eyes dragged to his, and his yearning held me hostage.

"Jack, what are you–?"

"Say it." He took my face in both hands, and I failed to resist. I failed miserably.

"Alright, we make a great t-team, and I don't mind if Kato joins our classes. There. Are you happy?" I emitted a shaky laugh. Jack's thumb swept from my chin to my mouth, and the mirth blossomed into mute wonder.

"Now, tell me you don't want me," he murmured. "Be honest."

"Oh, for goodness sake, Jack." I couldn't lie.

"Can I kiss you?" His mouth was already near mine. His words mingled with my unsteady breathing. I uttered his name again, a terrible defense. He looked me in the eyes as he closed in, presumably waiting for me to be sensible. "I'm gonna kiss you, Sunny." The swift connection of our lips was shutter-click speed. Behind eyelids, a flash of light. A memory. We paused, shocked. It was done. "Was that okay?" he asked.

My eyebrows met in a furrow. There were rules...

But none against this. I repeated the kiss, longer. My tongue deepened the exploration. He tasted like midsummer—heat, sudden thunder, lightning, rain, twilight fireflies after the onslaught, the storm just a fleeting dream. Jack wrapped his arms around me and guided me to the sofa. Everything happened too quickly for deliberation.

Warnings from my mentor reverberated in mind; however, I made the distinction between orgasmic sex and this. Where was the harm in this? Making out, was it called? What better way to relate to those I'd protect than by embracing my temporary humanity? Jack stretched over me in an unhurried descent, giving me leeway to stop him. I didn't. His weight crushed me with a pleasant heaviness that made me whisper, "Oh, wow."

"Right?" He settled between my legs with a grin at where our bodies met. I glanced there. A sweet symbiosis at the pelves transferred pleasure for pleasure. Moaning, Jack repositioned in a more intimate entanglement, as impossible as that at first seemed, and I felt the length and breadth of his increasing arousal. "Somehow, I knew you'd feel like this."

"Like what?" I asked, intrigued.

He caught my chin between his lips. "Like this," he murmured as his mouth coasted to my neck. He sucked and some glorious excitement tore through me. The nip of his teeth sent my frame arching toward him. I knew I should stop, but an inquisitiveness I couldn't assuage alone had taken hold of me. There was a pounding in my loins. I hitched in a breath as my manhood grazed his abdomen, and he reached to stroke me.

"Jack, I've never done this," I blurted out.

"I can tell. Am I going too far?"

Were things going too far? I rolled my eyes. Or rather, my eyes rolled in the back of my head from the mounting pressure building in my lower region. If he weren't so ridiculously attentive and gentle, I could make better sense of my limits. I begged my self-control to make an appearance. Yet, it tipped its hat and departed.

Mouth agape, I pushed my erection into Jack's hot grasp. The cadence of my thrusts followed a tempo I couldn't rein in, gradually more aggressive as we kissed. He milked every stroke. He reveled in my reactions, kissing down my neck and shoulder, as I raked my fingers down his back. Sounds escaped me that made me blush. I didn't know much about sex, but it felt like this was going too far. This was–my hips rose in a full-bodied shudder–going way too far.

"Jack, stop!" I gasped. He broke away instantly. I sat straight up, aching. "Damn it! Stop, stop, stop."

"I stopped," he grinned.

"Not you, my body." I gaped in horror at the erection tenting my pants. Jack reached toward me, but I blocked him with a throw pillow before covering my crotch with it. "D-don't, please. Give me a minute."

"I was gonna rub your back to ease your breathing. Are you good?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. Why was he less out of sorts than me? I needed to research human libido. He clasped his hands in his lap and watched me wrestle my lust into the dungeon of my mind. It took reciting epic poetry, thinking about history facts, anything to avoid looking at the bearish adonis sitting beside me. I stole a glance and stared at the ceiling in defeat.

"I'm fine. A-okay. Perfectly peachy." I'm doomed.

"Then it's established," he said matter-of-factly. "You're into me, but this is new for you. You don't know what to do with your desire for me, and you want to take things slowly."

"Jack, there can't be anything between us. I have a job to do." My eyes darted to the escritoire hiding my ledger. This situation definitely wasn't making it into the ledger book.

"That has nothing to do with me," said Jack blithely. "I mean, I'm not trying to be pushy, but if the reason you're reticent to get involved is because you're worried about how a relationship will impact your career, I won't get in the way of that. I'm not even asking for a serious relationship. What's wrong with seeing where this goes?"

"What's wrong with keeping things the way they are?" I whined.

He pulled a face. "We get alone for five minutes, and the sparks burn down the building. Take it from someone who knows what it's like to repress your sexuality. Eventually, the pent up frustration becomes a powder keg."

"What about you and Mal?" I changed tact.

He rocked back, caught off-guard. A playful smile lit his lips. "Are you kidding me? Don't you see the way she gets around you? I'm sure she'll devour you if I turn my back long enough, and don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at her. So, how do you feel about ethical non-monogamy?"

"Can that be ethical?" I pushed to my feet to get out of the submissive position I was in. Surely, he was messing with my head. When I faced the sofa, Jack had an arm outstretched on the headrest, an ankle on his knee. Still in control.

"Can I spend the night?" he asked.

I shook my head in confusion. "This is coming at me fast. Let's take it one question at a time. Ethical non-monogamy, I'm not sleeping with anybody. As for spending the night, refer to the last answer."

"Let me revise. Can I crash on your couch tonight? Mom and I got into a disagreement, and I'm not ready to deal with her yet," he said with a rueful grin.

"Oh. Well..." I paused and considered it. Being alone together was a recipe for disaster, but having Jack over would make my job easier. I padded to the linen closet and collected a blanket and a throw. "You can stay any time you like as long as there's no funny business."

Jack blinked at me and crowed in amusement, "What the fuck is 'funny business'? Dude, you're hilarious. Sometimes it's like you're too good for this world. No, but I like it. I respect it," he said at my self-conscious shrug. He approached me to take the linens, and I wanted to shrink away, but somehow I leaned toward him. He brushed his nose across mine and smiled. "You're the sweetest forbidden fruit, Sunny. Why do you think I can't stay away from you?"