#jamie fraser sucks cocks

[moonlight-rider25]

Jamie Fraser vs. Virginity

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Rated R, smut, unprotected sex, etc.

Summary

You've found yourself submerged in Jamie Fraser's attention. A gentleman, he refuses to make you do anything you're not ready and willing to do. A few pails of ale and songs from the drunken crowd; you find yourself entangled in more than just his embrace. Will your virginity scare him off as he finally has the chance to get his hands on you alone?...

His back muscles strain as he hovers gently over your body. You feel him ready and willing against your inner thigh. Reaching up gently, you stroke softly; his spiky stubble along his cheek and exhale heavily as you stare into his deep blue eyes.

“(Y/N)” He groans low as he pants heavily still watching you squirm beneath him.

“I want you…and I'm ready…” you tell him grinding your core up towards him with a deep breath and harsh swallow.

His lips meet yours again and you release all your body's tension beneath him as he closes the gap between the two of you. Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls away again. He strokes a stray piece of hair from your face as your chest heaves waiting for him to take you; to fully engulf himself within you.

Your core quivers as his hand runs down your check, neck, across your breasts and nipples; which are fully erect from his touch. His hand trails down the front of you; from your rib cage, down across your stomach. His hand inches slowly closer down towards your waist, across your soft mound, finally stopping at the aching entrance of your core.

“Mmmmm” He grumbles lowly into your ear, feeling your wetness against his fingertips.

You bite back a gasp in your mouth as his touch ignites a fire within you. His face meets yours again as he lines himself up with you. His pulsating cock twitching to feel your wet walls wrapped around him.

With your mouth a gap and his steady movements, his forehead meets your mouth and you wrap your arms around his neck as he gently begins pressing in against your soaking folds.

You groan out feeling him slide within you finally.

“Jamie!” You cry feeling his tip enter you.

He holds back, making sure to take his time to slowly open you as he presses deeper.

He sucks at your throat as he presses deeper, one thrust at a time deeper within you. His cock pressing between your folds and opening you further with each thrust.

You moan out again, and he stops meeting your eye again.

“Am I hurting you?” He asks in his thick accent.

You smile up at him. Pulling him closer wrapping your legs around his round little ass. You swallow back the words as you pull him closer and he looks down at your body, curving up towards him as he quickly lines himself again back up with you, and presses back firmly within your core. He jolts your body as he slams into you. Once, twice, three times before your eyes roll back in your head and you finally allow the roll of ecstasy to wash over your body.

“Yes!” You cry out against him.

He smiles down at you; thrusting again, back into you, as your body jolts beneath him.

“Harder!” You groan. Pulling at his neck as he obeys your wish and slams in against you.

You feel the waves rising up from your legs washing over you as he continues to slam impossibly inside you. Your breath is uncountable as your gut clenches and you arch yourself up against him.

“Right…There!” You cry as he thrusts and you hear his breath catch in his throat before releasing his tension against your entrance. Smiling against you as his high becomes unavoidable. You both pant against each other as the waves wash over you both and you feel yourself come undone beneath him. His movements sporadic and unjust as he empties himself inside you and slumps over against your damp body beneath him.

His hot breath on your collar bone as your bodies twitch through the orgasms, pulsing through your veins. Your breaths still ragged as his lips meet yours and you feel him remove himself from you. You run your hand over his stubble again and groan a bit as he removes himself from within you and rolls over on his side; his arm draped over your waist as he pulls you against him, and you sigh deeply against his chest as your breaths begin to slow rhythmically with one another…

[susiehunsecker-remade]

in the 100th season of outlander they are going to have jamie fraser suck dick and cock on live television

[jurian-is-cinnamon-roll]

PSA: I don't give two shit about Jamie 95% of the time, but when I do he's probably sucking on some dick in a very bisexual way

👏 Jamie 👏 Fraser 👏 sucks 👏 cock 👏 every👏 day 👏

[adsosfraser]

The Stone’s Toll - Chapter Five

Read on AO3

Claire sat nursing her glass of expensive cognac. Neither of them initiated a conversation, preferring silence to the inevitable argument that would ensue. 

 It was Christmas Eve when she returned. Little over a month and a half in that soul leeching ward. Frank had decorated the house with holly, and ivy, and even some sprigs of mistletoe in an attempt for some normalcy. 

 “Claire, I’m sorry for what they did to you. I was angry at you. You not only chose to leave me once but twice over. You’d rather die than feel my touch. I wanted to feel anything but utter despair. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to return you home.” She offered no response. 

“Do you have any idea just how difficult these last few months- past few years have been for me Claire? How utterly exhausting it has been to deal with your loss and then now this? I don’t wish to fight you on any of this. Let us have a civilised conversation please.”  

 “How hard it’s been for you!” Her mouth hung open in shock. “You think these past few months have just been a fucking picnic for me!” She stood in her anger and seethed at the fireplace, back turned from her husband. 

 “Of course not, but did you ever stop to consider how I’ve felt about anything?” 

 “Did you ever consider my feelings when you were sticking your cock into one of your students?! God, did you give me one of their diseases?” Shock plastered over his face. “Oh don’t act so surprised, I’ve smelt the perfume and all those long nights at your ‘office’.”

 “Claire, be reasonable. You’ve only let me touch you once, and that was before I was intimate with anyone else. Not all of us are such mendacious sluts.” 

 “Oh and I’m sure you were an exemplary student of abstinence while I was ‘missing’, for fuck’s sake even during the war, because clearly me being the ‘mendacious slut’ that I am I wasn’t entirely faithful either!” 

 “I don’t wish to fight you anymore Claire, something has recently come upon my knowledge during my research, and it affects you. Please have a seat.” He gestured to the decanter on the side table and poured a glass for her.

 “It pains me to see you like this Claire. I can’t in good conscience force you to stay here and slip further and further away from me every day” Frank sucked in a breath and smoothed his hands over his thighs. “It angered me to see that you’d rather die... than be with me. That you chose his memory over me, a living, breathing human being, and I couldn’t even be sure he was real. Still can't. Can you not see Claire why it took me a while to finally decide upon your release?”

 The hazy buzz that normally surrounded her mind now had started to fade, if only slightly. Claire squinted at Frank and nodded. 

 He paused, calculating his next words. 

 “I’ve done some research with the Reverend. We’ve been in communication since you’ve told me what happened.”

 Frank adjusted his collar. He stared at the stack of papers to his right on the desk.

 “And well we certainly found evidence of your presence in the past, but there are other things.”

 Claire stared straight through him, she didn’t need to worry about her glass face showing something wrong. She felt nothing. This confirmation made no difference for the hell she had been through. The numb feeling had taken a while to crawl over her body the past few months and she welcomed it. It felt better than the suffocating dread and grief she originally felt.

 “I know I must let you go. Go to him I mean. It’s the least I can do for the pain I’ve inadvertently caused you, Claire. Please forgive me. It’s unbearable for me to live to see you this way, even if the alternative is to send you back.”

 “He’s dead, Frank. They all are.” Her lips thinned into a line. “I have nothing to live for.” 

 She cringed at her last choice of words. She didn’t want to cause him unnecessary suffering. But she was too tired to lie, to protect him from such verbal blows.

 “But Claire. He survived.” His white knuckles wrapped tightly around the armrest of the leather chair and he flexed his jaw. “This man, this Red Jamie was exonerated of his crimes, with a pardon from King George II himself. And his lands returned in reparation.” 

 “How-how can you tell me this? You know what I- God what you put me through. Why would you give me this hope?” 

 “I’ve also found one Alexander Malcolm and his,” he gulped, “wife Elizabeth Malcolm. But Claire, this is your hand on the document. A christening, where Elizabeth, where you’re stated as godmother in a church in Broch Mordha. But then there’s also this purchase of a croft on the Isle of Lewis, with the same signature as Alexander Malcolm.”

 “Please, Claire, allow me to make amends for whatever part I’ve caused in your suffering. If there’s some piece, some knowledge I can give you, it would ease my mind considerably. I don’t wish for you to waste away before my eyes, for the rest of our days in resentment.” His lips tightened into a thin line. “I met someone while you were away. The new assistant under me at Harvard. I think,” he paused, “I think I love her as you love your Jamie. Let us divorce and I’ll give you what funds I have.” 

 “You’re just- okay with that?” 

 “Claire, you haven’t been my wife in years, not really.” 

 “So that’s just it? I offered divorce when I returned, and finally accept when you’ve damaged me. My mind, my soul!” He winced at the sight of circled bits of skin on her temples. 

 “And I am regrettably sorry, darling.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. “I know this is what you’ve wanted ever since you’ve returned. Please, let me make this easy on you. I have the banking number for what covers the divorce settlement. It should be enough to purchase a flight to London, and then I know the inheritance from your parents and uncle should help you on your way to Inverness.” He slid over a paper card to her, detailing the whereabouts of the money he was offering her. She kept her arms crossed tightly over her sternum, not wishing to take any charity from him.  

 “There's another thing. Your son, the name they said you called out in your sleep every night. I have this death certificate of one Fergus Claudel Fraser. Marked March in the year of our lord Seventeen Forty-Five.” Tears sprang in her dry eyes at the mention of him. He pulled out a sheet from the pile of papers he collected and shoved it over to her side of the table. 

 “Why are you doing this Frank?” She couldn’t bear this physical proof that she had left her son to die without her. 

 “Here is one Fergus Malcolm, on the Isle of Lewis, a year after his ‘death’ and you're on this too. Or rather your alter ego one Elizabeth Beauchamp Malcolm. If nothing else, will you not live for him? Even if the proof of him amounts to nothing, that he really did die at Culloden? Please, take the money, and the papers. I’m hoping it can ease my conscience from all the torture you’ve endured.” 

 The last thing Claire wanted to do was ease Frank’s ego. She wanted him to suffer. But here was a lifeline, a way out and back to her family. She would see Fergus again if fate allowed. Her mind would never allow her to comprehend the other piece of hope before her. The one sure thing she knew was Fergus, he had been whole and alive the last she saw him. And there was something urging her to him. A panicked urgency. Her mind flashed to the nights after her therapies, when his presence in her dreams was almost so real she could feel his touch after she woke. She quickly signed the paper he offered. Claire Elizabeth Fraser. The wet ink shined against the thick paper. His suffering would have to wait. Her fingers began to twist the gold band on her finger but Frank stopped her. 

 “No, keep it. It will have value when you… return. The papers will be sorted by the time you’re gone, and we’ll both be free.” He swallowed sharply. “Know this Claire. I still love you, and I always will.” 

 He had a funny way of showing it, Claire thought. She didn’t dignify his statement with a response. She left him in the living room to pack, and as the sun rose the next morning her bed and dresser were empty. 

 Frank set aside some money for the divorce settlement into Claire’s own account. She withdrew the three hundred pounds without a second thought, and purchased a ticket to London. It barely covered the cost of a transatlantic flight, which was more of a luxury than anything, but she could afford to spend money, not time. A ship between would have lasted weeks, not hours. She was left with little over fifty pounds to find her way to Inverness. The only things she carried with her were her pearls, sgian dubh, the ring without its ruby stone, the copious amount of papers from Frank’s research, her old botany pocketbook, and a change of clothes, all packed into one small suitcase. Her things barely fit half the space inside it. The gold band hung around her neck on a chain now, instead of resting comfortably on her left ring finger. It clanged against the skin between her breasts with every sway of her steps. It was decided over a very pricey international phone call, she would go see Mrs. Graham.

[mymelodyheart]

All I Want For Christmas Is You  Chapter 1 ~Sparks Will Fly~

Notes

Hey guys, I'm back with a Christmas Ficlet, "All I Want For Christmas Is You," starring our favourite couple, Jamie and Claire.

It won't be my usual long story, but it's my wee gift to my readership who'd been following my journey in writing and always encouraging me with their insightful comments and kudos. 

Please don't be disheartened when I don't always reply back to your comments, as I spend every spare time I have writing. When I'm not writing, I'm dealing with this thing called life and taking care of my loves. But I promise you, I always look forward to reading your feedback, and if you have any questions of any sorts, I will answer them. If you see any mistakes or you wish to impart something I'm doing wrong or give me some ideas, please bear in mind I welcome constructive criticism, and I welcome opinions. I would even thank you for it, and I promise you I won't take it personally. The reason I say this is because I wholeheartedly wish to improve my writing and what a better way when my readers can share their thoughts with me. 

Without further ado, I wish you all happy reading.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

James Fraser stepped into the pub followed by his older brother Willie. Although it was still early evening, there was already a small crowd all hyped up into a party mode. The multiple flat TV screens on the walls were showing world championship darts without the sounds. Instead, the speakers blared with Wham's Last Christmas song with the random interference from the resident DJ. While a handful of men milled around the bar holding their pints, the women sat at the table chattering animatedly and sipping long drinks and port. With Christmas Eve only two days away, there was a sense of excitement and goodwill in the air, typical of the festive season.

"Check out those birds at three o'clock."

Jamie cocked his head at Willie's words.

Two wide-eyed bonnie lassies stood next to the pool table sipping cocktails as if awaiting their turn for a game. Living in a tight community where everyone knew everybody and their business, Jamie immediately discerned the girls were visitors.

Willie unzipped his jacket. "I saw blondie first."

Jamie followed his brother's line of sight, but his eyes darted back to the dark-haired lass with the palest skin he'd ever seen, her tresses done up in a messy bun. Her long legs, accentuated by tight black jeans, grabbed his complete attention. She had a cropped red cable-knit sweater on and boots caked with mud which meant she must have been watching the shinty game earlier along with the rest of the village folks.

"Bloody hell, look at her," Willie murmured.

Blondie wore a purple turtle neck top that showed off her nice breasts, and jeans that hugged her hips snuggly. Jamie grinned. "Och, ye like 'em curvy, but I like her mate more. Shall we talk to them?"

"Aye, let's do that before one of those lads get there first." 

Jamie made a move forward.

"Hang on a minute," Willie's hand slapped across Jamie's chest, stopping him mid-saunter. "Yer ex ... she's back here for the holidays. She's sat at the bar with her mates. Are ye sure ye're ready for this?"

"Aye, aye. It's been over between us for ages," Jamie replied, not taking his eyes off the dark-haired lass. He hadn't thought about his ex for a long time and whatever he thought he'd felt for her back then, was nothing but a distant memory.

"This is just a bit of fun, alright? Dinnae get to attached. Blondie and her mate are probably tourists."

Willie had seen him go through hell over a year ago with his ex, who he thought had been the one for him. She had turned his life upside down, affecting his job, and his ability to stay sober after she'd cheated on him. Once Jamie got his act together, he'd sworn off serious relationships and decided to concentrate on work.

"Fun. Fun sounds good," Jamie muttered. When Willie didn't release him, he looked at his brother square in the eyes. "How about ye?"

"What about me?"

"Ye haven't chatted up a lass in a very long time. Are ye sure you still know how to?" Jamie asked, trying to keep a straight face.

Willie shoved his shoulder and feigned offence. "Ye cheeky git! Cannae chat any lass up when I know everyone here, now, can I?" 

Jamie nodded toward the two girls. "Weel, what are we waiting for?" He took a deep breath and kinked his head sideways to the left and then to the right. "If we're just gonnae stand here like a couple of numpties and discuss, we'd be too late by the time we get there."

"Mmm, never seen ye this eager to meet a lass before," Willie grinned.

Jamie looked back at the women and noticed they were beginning to garner attention from the lads nearby. The dark-haired one made a move around the pool table followed by her mate, and he was powerless to stop his gaze wandering down to the gentle curve of her arse.

Willie straightened his posture. "Let's go," he exhaled as he made a move.

Jamie followed suit and lined up next to his brother. As they got closer, he watched as the dark-haired lass skirted past a group of pool players with a polite smile, then wrote her initials in chalk on a blackboard mounted to the wall, claiming the next game. CB, she scrawled.

She wrinkled her nose and laughed at something her friend said as she started moving towards the bar. Jamie's frown deepened when the lass didn't see the sports bag put into her path. A few steps more, and she would trip and fall flat on her face. But not if he could help it.

"Hey!" Jamie shouted, abandoning Willie's side. "Hey, ye!"

She took another step, looking over her shoulder to acknowledge what her friend was shouting at her.

"Ah, fuck!" Jamie gritted his teeth and hurried towards her in quick long strides. He had no choice but to jostle a couple of bodies out of his way as she showed no signs of hearing him. He caught her as her foot connected with the bulky bag, his arms sliding under hers and pulling her up.

Her forehead bounced off his chin. "Oh, Lordy, Lordy." She let out a lungful of air and dug her fingernails into his forearms, her breath on his neck feeling like a double shot of heat warming his insides. "I'm such a clumsy oaf."

"Hey mate, shoved that bag under the table will ye, before someone breaks their neck," Jamie shouted over the top of her head at the owner of the bag, his voice sounding a tad harsh. With her front plastered against him, Jamie could almost feel her shock subside, giving way to the vibration of her laughter. Still holding her close, he puffed out a sigh and whispered into her ears. "Next time, ye should look at where ye're going. Ye could have landed on yer face, and that wouldn't have been a pretty sight."

Still laughing, her shoulders shook, presumably finding the situation hilarious. "We left our Airbnb earlier in a hurry, and my contact lenses are at the bottom of my suitcase. I'm farsighted, you see, but I'm too vain to wear my specs."

"Enough to fall flat on yer face? "

A few heartbeats passed. "If I say yes, are you going to start yelling again?"

"Aye."

"Alright then ...no."

Realising he still held the lass in a firm grip, Jamie let her go slowly to reassure himself she was steady on her feet. She kept her head down as she took a step back to rummage through the handbag slung on her shoulder. When she got hold of what she was looking for, she put on a pair of specs and blinked up at him through round, black-rimmed eyeglasses. As their eyes met, he felt something crank in his chest. He must still be wound up from the shinty game earlier because, on a sucked-in breath, an uneven sound passed through his mouth. A Dhia. She had the most beautiful amber eyes, and they reminded him of the colour of the finest heavily peated single malt whisky, Islay had to offer. 

"Oooh!" she whispered. 

Aye, tell me about it. "What's yer name?"

"You're one of the shinty players from earlier."

"Uh-huh." He tamped down the urge to laugh. "Yer name?" he repeated.

If the spellbound look in her eyes meant she was stunned by what she saw, she wasn't the only one. "Oh, yes. Sorry. I'm Claire. Beauchamp. Claire Beauchamp."

"Claire." For some reason, colour bloomed in her face when he said her name. "I'm Jamie Fraser."

"Hi." After a few seconds of just staring at each other, she recovered first and slapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh, shoot, where are my manners? Thank you. Thank you for saving me from an undignified fall." Her lips twitched, and her eyes twinkled. "If I had died of embarrassment, at least no one would care since nobody knows me here."

"I would care." Someone collided into him from behind, making him close the distance between them and her head tilt back to maintain eye contact. She was a tall lass, but still, he was a head taller than her. "So ... ye're here on holiday?" he asked.

"Yes, I am ...until Boxing Day. And then we're going to Edinburgh for Hogmanay. And then flying back to London on Three Kings from Glasgow." He heard her swallow. "I have a thing for Christmas in Scotland, you see."

"Is that so? What else do ye have a thing for?"

"Probably a lot of other stuff," she whispered, clutching her handbag in front of her. "But I'm having difficulty thinking of them right this minute."

"And why is that?" God, she's breathtakingly beautiful.

"I guess I'm still rattled by that near fall." She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Or have you forgotten all about that already?"

Jamie couldn't stop his grin. "No, not at all." In his periphery, he saw his brother and Claire's friend chatting. He wondered if he could whisk Claire away. This lass is something else. She wasn't staying here for very long, and he wanted to get to know her and make every second count.

He cleared his throat. "Look, Sassenach ..." 

"Sassenach?"

He felt heat glid at the back of his neck. "Sorry ... it's a Gaelic word. It means an outsider or someone from not around here. In case ye misunderstood, it's not my intention to make it sound like ye're not welcome here. Let's just say I meant it as a pet name. Endearment, if ye will."

He regarded her as her eyes searched his face, and she made no effort at all to hide her perusal of his lips. When a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes lit up into a wicked glint, his chest expanded a hundred-fold. "I like the sound of that ...Sassenach," she breathed as she rolled the Gaelic word in her tongue.

"Mmm, so, you're from London, huh?"

She shoved her hands in the back pocket of her jeans and rocked back on her heels. "Yeah. I'm originally from Oxford. But I live and work in London as an editorial assistant for a publishing company. How about you? What do you do, besides playing shinty?"

"I'm a tree surgeon. My brother and I run an arboricultural business."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, wow! I've never met a tree surgeon before. So I guess you must love your job to make it into a business?"

"Aye, I do," he smiled, basking in her open interest in his life. "I love the outdoors and the fresh air, whatever the weather. How about ye? Do ye like yer job?"

She paused and frowned in contemplation. "It's alright," she shrugged. "It's a job that will bring me closer to fulfilling a dream, I guess. I want to be a fulltime writer one day ..."

It was his turn to be surprised. "Maybe ye should move to the countryside if ye want to be a writer. Far too many distractions in London, don't ye think?"

She grinned. "Yeah, I suppose so. But I'm enjoying London at the moment, and I'm not quite ready to give up the city life. Just yet. Maybe one day." She glanced at her watch. "Umm ...you must have somewhere to go."

He wasn't ready to let her walk away, so he forced a worried cast into his face. "Eh, ye look still shaken up. We should probably get ye something stiff to drink ...and my phone number."

Her eyes widened, and after a tense split second, laughter burst out of her lips, loud enough to turn heads in their vicinity. She brought her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle but failed. The sound was so infectious, his own low rumble accompanied it, and he couldn't help but think, there's never been a time he felt such a powerful connection with another person. 

"Actually I'm with my mate here," Claire said finally, jerking a thumb over her shoulder and twisting around to the direction of where her friend stood. "She's my French flatmate. But it looks like she's already found someone to talk to." She paused and squinted her eyes. "Oh ...I recognise that bloke she's with. He played shinty too, didn't he?"

He waved at Willie and signalled him and Claire's friend to come over. "Aye, that's my older brother." 

Claire's gaze shot right back to him. "Really?" With a smile that showed off perfect teeth, she pushed her specs higher on her nose. "I wouldn't have thought. I don't have a sibling, and I just presumed your whole family would have the same gorgeous auburn hair like yours. Well, alright ..." She crimsoned to her hairline as she looked at his approaching brother. "I see some similarities now ...height, broad shoulders and the colour of your eyes."

Jamie felt a pinch of unease. Even though her vivacity was endearing, he wasn't ready to feel drawn to anyone this deeply or to care at such an alarming rate and intensity. After his last relationship broke down, there hadn't been anyone that piqued his interest ...until now. And she would be leaving in a few days. Chatting to her was only meant to be a night of enjoying the company of a beautiful lass or perhaps a diversion in whom he could lose himself into for a short time. But the moment he'd looked into her eyes, warm feelings drove into his heart while burning urges grew low in his tummy. This lass was a breath of fresh air and sexy and exactly what he needed. He mentally shook his head to clear his brain. Looking beyond the top of her head, he blurred the image of seeing this as something more. The long-distance relationship was a no-go. He was a country lad at heart, and she belonged to the city.

"Jamie?" She was staring at him as if he'd lost some of his ability to think clearly.

"I'm sorry ...still listening. It's just that I'm not used to a beautiful lass pointing out my physical attributes," he reassured her with a smile.

That beautiful blush blew across her face again. Jamie found it adorable. How could she be direct and shy at the same time? "I didn't mean to sound so bold. It must have something to do with me living in the city for so long ...you know, us Londoners tend to have no filters."

He winked at her. "Dinnae fash, lass. I kinda like it." And he meant it. 

She was about to respond when Willie and Claire's friend reached them, huge smiles painted across their faces like they'd hit it off.

The blonde girl took a step forward towards Jamie. "Hi! Claire and I enjoyed watching you guys play shinty earlier. I didn't realise it would be so aggressively physical. By the way, I'm Annalise," she smiled warmly, holding out her hand.

Jamie took it. "Aye, that it is and difficult to play when the grounds are too soggy. It could get pretty messy in this dreich weather." He shook her hand. "I'm Jamie ...please to meet ye."

"Likewise," Annalise replied, glancing at her friend.

Willie introduced himself to Claire, then brought his attention to their situation. "Looks like yer glasses are empty, ladies. Can we invite ye both to join us for a drink?"

Jamie saw Annalise elbow Claire with a conspiratorial look. When Claire nodded, Annalise batted her eyes at his brother. "Sure. That would be nice. I'd like a vodka and tonic please."

Willie grinned like he'd just received an early Christmas present and Jamie understood the feeling.

"Sassenach, what would ye like to drink?" 

Before Claire could reply, Hugh, one of the lads in his shinty team, tapped her on the shoulder. "It's ye against me now, lass."

Claire swung around and looked at the cue stick being handed to her, and her eyes lit. Turning back to Jamie, she grinned. "This won't take long, but I'll have a single malt, neat, please." Then she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. "This is for good luck."

He froze. It was an innocent kiss, but it packed quite a punch.

"Oh ...and yeah, it's a belated thank you again for breaking my fall," she quickly added, suddenly, appearing unsure like she doubted the gesture.

A slow grin roused to form on his lips. "Ye can thank me by going out with me ...tonight," he said, without thinking.

She blinked.

"I'd like to show ye something."

Her brows wrinkled as she studied his face.

"I'd really like to get to know ye better and take ye out," he said. "Please allow me." If she said no, he was quite certain he was going to beg.

"Alright."

He smiled as relief surged through him. "I'll wait for you until ye finish yer game," he said. "We'll leave after we've had a drink with my brother and yer friend."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere Christmassy."

She gave him a wary look, and he laughed. 

"Listen." He leaned in close. "I'll get yer friend to take a picture of my driving licence if that will make ye feel better."

He was about to pull out his wallet to retrieve it when she stopped him with a wave of a hand. "I trust you."

"That's a good start."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

Slowly backing away from him, she smiled. "Let me play this one game first, and then I'll be with you."

With his heart in his throat, he watched her progress as she walked towards the pool table and swapped a few quick words with her opponent, who seemed to be humouring her. After the lively exchange, Claire pulled up the sleeves of her sweater to her elbow and rubbed her hands together. Before she began chalking the cuestick, she gave him a wink. That mere display made the muscles in his belly clench, literally whooshing the breath out of him. 

A slap on his back tore his gaze away from Claire. "Easy now lad," Willie said in a low, amused voice. "Ye look like ye could use the same drink as her."

Jamie glanced back at the subject of their conversation. "Aye, but make mine a double," he whispered.

"On it," Willie replied, laughing as he walked off.

What the bloody hell? He should be withdrawing himself away from this attraction because this mad instant bond between them was like an overloaded electrical fuse, capable of incinerating him alive. He'd already learnt his lesson from his last relationship. He'd been there and done that, but yet he didn't have the will to stop himself from finding out how their connection would play out.

Oh, Christ, this is bad. So, so bad, I'm in so much big trouble. Taking a huge sigh, he found himself a stool nearest to the pool table and watched Claire steal the show from the best snooker player in Broch Mordha.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Sinners & Saints-Chapter 12

                       A special thanks to @statell​ for all your help

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter Twelve (NSFW) Chapter notes on AO3

The morning broke peacefully on the day Javier and Joseph were flying back to Paris. Claire had a huge breakfast for everyone on the foredeck and even Jamie was in attendance. He was looking better and was staying awake longer each day. He was indebted to these men for coming at a moment’s notice to help Claire with her grief.

Claire hugged each of them, waved, and blew kisses as the cab rolled away. Maia had come with them and now walked with Claire back to the boat.

“Has Jamie said anything about the scars yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Has he told you how he ended up with Hesser?”

“No.”

“Well, we have ten days at sea before we hit Jamaica. Maybe all that time alone will make him talk.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Darius was excited to get out to open water so Claire and Jamie got comfortable on the foredeck to say goodbye to Greece, civilization, other boats, people, everything except endless miles of ocean.

”Can we talk a bit Sassenach? Every time I get ready to explain things, I decide it’s not the right day to ruin for you and I put it off.” He stuck his nose in her hair and pulled her smell into his nose. “God, you smell good.” He sat up and looked into her eyes, “are you ready mo chridhe?”

“Yes, although I don’t think you’re capable of ruining my day. Your mouth is too beautiful, your eyes are too mesmerizing, your body is too close to me. So, do your best Mister Fraser, and don’t pout if I smile through your story.”

“It starts when I woke up in what I thought was a hospital. I was so scared, and I just wanted to find you, but people were holding me down and that made me fight more. My back was on fire and every movement was excruciating, even so I fought them until they knocked me out. This happened every time I woke up, many times. I saw the doctor standing over me once, at least I thought he was the doctor. He started shouting at me about not having a candidate for the white house and it was all my fault. He finally settled down and told me it had been a month since I fell into the water with Frank. I was shocked it had been that long. He said my wounds were starting to heal, but it would be a long recovery. He handed me a tape recorder and your voice soothed me and gave me hope.

“I can’t imagine how awful it was for you, alone, severely wounded with that man hovering over you. But you’re home now Jamie, and we can forget this whole incident if we try. We’re free with new identities, a shitload of money, our friends, and adventure ahead.”

Jamie brought her hands into her lap and looking straight into her eyes he shook his head sadly. Hesser plans to train me in espionage and counterterrorism. I refused and he laughed, telling me dead men don’t have a choice. Claire, there is a branch of the American government called Black Ops and Hesser is the chief. They answer to no one, not even the president. When he is ready they will come and get me for six months of training.

Claire sat up, "that’s ridiculous, he can’t force you to become a spy, or terrorist, whatever it is!”

Jamie held her hands to make her look at him and he shook his head looking like it was the end of the world.

“It’s not a matter of me, Sassenach, it’s a we”

“What are you saying? I will be abducted and forced to train in espionage, for Hesser?”

“He knows you are Casper, and I am the painter. He owns us and he is giddy with it. The worst part is no help or backup. If we die during the mission we have no identity within the CIA.

“That is why he saved you. So he can turn you into his personal super-spy and he can end your life anytime he wants just by turning your location over to the Europeans.”

“Hesser wouldn’t waste his time reporting me. He has no compunction about killing unnecessaries. His words.”

Claire was seeing the bigger picture and it terrified her. Hesser would become their puppet master and throw them into any horrible situation he wanted. It was unfathomable how cruel he was, it would be a life of torture, always looking over her shoulder, waiting for them to take her. She wanted to vomit and scream at the twist of fate that now promised a very short life for both of them.

“ I am going to lay down.”

Claire had pulled the bedspread off the bed and lay sleeping in her bikini. Jamie watched her with a crippling need for her love. It had been almost three months since they last made love and he fought with his painful erection every day until he felt strong enough to let it go with her. He could barely breathe because his heart was hammering in his chest. He could not stop himself from touching her.

Claire felt Jamie’s warmth press into her from behind. It was foreign to her and she felt her body react instantly. His arm came across her chest, strong and commanding, holding her in place and rolling onto his back, pulling her with him. He pulled at her bikini top savagely and she heard the straps rip as the garment was cast aside, leaving her breasts naked for his mauling hand. He pinched her nipple and she gasped before trying to get away from him. She wanted to control the activity and make sure he was safe from harm, but he wouldn’t release her nor did he speak. She felt the hair on her neck stand up when he panted into her ear.

He ran his hand down her stomach and into the lower part of her suit where he dropped his other hand and ripped it off of her. His mind was not his own anymore. He felt like a different person, out of control with need, barely able to have a coherent thought.

“Spread your legs, love,” he breathed into her ear.

“Jamie..”

“Spread them.”

His amazing fingers played with her bud and spread her lips open to the fingers of his other hand pushing into her.

“My God, your wet. Your body wants me and you’re powerless to stop me.”

He would not let up on her, even when she pleaded in her headlong rush to orgasm. She felt his strong wet fingers pull her chin to his lips kissing her into submission and his fingers were once again inside her body moving in and out in sync with his tongue. Claire moaned and her body was shaking when he stopped.

“Turn around Sassenach, I want to watch your eyes when you come. Straddle me, love, that’s it.”

She was out of her mind with this possessive lovemaking and watched Jamie quickly move through her knees and down on the mattress to hold her pelvis tightly and pull her down on his assaulting tongue. He could see her breasts bounce with her oncoming orgasm and the erotic scene nearly finished him. Claire moaned through her release and Jamie pulled her to him and held her while she pulsed and jerked. The second she opened her eyes, he took control again.

He flipped her to her back and ripped the buttons off of his shirt followed by his shorts. Claire was in a lust drunk haze and tried to rally with his fresh onslaught on her body.

“Tell me you love you me.”

“I love you, Jamie, more than anything.”

“Tell me you belong to me, tell me how you will make me come.”

“I belong to you Jamie and I want to feel you down my throat.”

Jamie rolled to his side and grabbed a fist full of hair, very close to her scalp so he could direct her head. “tongue out,” he panted and moved her tongue up and down the length of him before he shoved her face into his balls and watched her lick and suck until he almost lost his mind. She felt him lift her head to his cock and push her down on it, keeping her head clear of his view. He yanked her head away and held her away from him while he regained control.

“On your back.”

He pulled her legs straight up and held her ankles with one hand and watched his dick go in and out of her. Claire was moaning with a second orgasm building pressure and she begged him to let go so she could spread her legs and let him bang into her throbbing center.

He pulled her legs apart and pushed them wide. With each thrust he pressed into her and told her he loved her, he desired her, he would never leave her. Claire was mewing with every contact until he pushed into her deepest body and felt her orgasm start. Jamie just closed his eyes and felt her pulsing, her wetness, and heard her moan his name until it was over.

Two deep thrusts and he joined her in the erotic stratosphere where arms and legs disappear and existence is reduced to your core that pulses wtih euphoria.

Jamie grabbed his chest as he panted and dropped to her side, pulling her close.

“I’m sorry for being a brute, love.”

She tried to speak and gave up forming words that would fall tragically short. When she could speak again, she pulled Jamie’s head up from her shoulder and looked in his eyes.

“I will fight for you Jamie, no matter what Hesser throws at us I will never give you up. Please say you will never give up on me.”

“Never, ever, ever, will I give up on you, Claire.”

Jamie held Claire while she napped and his mind was racing for some way to out-think Hesser. He had them in a vise grip and cared not a lick for their lives. They were utterly disposable and when one was taken, the other would agonize until they returned. He wondered how long sanity would hold up under that torture.

Once Claire was deep in sleep, he made his way to the boat garage and placed a fresh canvas onto his makeshift easel. He didn’t make drawings or sketch the final picture but stabbed his brush into the earthy colors on his pallet mixing them lighter and darker, adding shadow colors and light ivory and peach, browns from light to dark and transferred the color to the canvas to rough out the forest where he played as a child with his three best friends, Ian, Angus, and Rupert. He painted the gorge, then changed it to the ravine they loved with a giant tree overhanging the edge and a long rope tied to its outstretched branch. He roughed in Rupert, clinging to the rope, smiling in the dappling sunshine. In his mind, he heard Rupert’s voice telling him he would always be on his side, no matter what.

Jamie threw his brush into turpentine and ran up the stairs to the bridge, where Darius was looking at his maps.

“I need to get to Jamaica right away, even if you push the engines beyond what is safe. I’m serious. I need to be there yesterday.”

Darius looked at him for a full minute, trying to think of any reason someone would risk the engines to cross the Atlantic so quickly. One thing he knew about Jamie was his intelligence, so he would know the risk.

“Done.”

“How long?”

“Seven days. Ish.”

“Thank you.”

As the days passed, Jamie painted, Darius used the autopilot and fished, Maia cooked and read her chapters for her online English course, and Claire touched base with the University and then sent her letter of resignation. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. Rather, a minor event when compared to the horrific life she would endure in the days to come.

The weather turned warmer and humid two days out from Jamaica so Claire and Jamie slept on the sundeck, under the stars. If they didn’t make love when they first laid down Jamie would wake her with a warm hand and the race would start anew. It was exciting, and he would take her to the edge of acceptable passion and then push her into the erotic vortex. He had changed and both of them knew it. Making love slowly and softly was no longer on the menu but was replaced with something desperate, possessive, and domineering, yet wholly satisfying.

The last day of their journey, Jamie kissed Claire’s neck at breakfast and told her how lovely her hair was. He pulled on a shiny coil and it sprang back, making him chuckle.

Maia backhanded Darius’s upper arm and demanded he pay more attention to her. He rubbed his arm and scowled at her.

“I love you and you know that Maia, why the brutality?”

“You don’t love me enough, Darius!”

When he saw the tears start he jumped out of his chair and pulled her to him. Maia did not cry, not even at funerals, and here she was with wet cheeks. Claire felt sad for Maia and wondered what was happening.

“I love you Maia, with all my heart.”

“You love to fish.”

“I love you more than I love fishing.”

Maia looked up at him and smiled through her tears and then hugged him. And that was it. The spat was over and Maia was bouncing around the kitchen again. Claire squirmed in her seat, horrified at her sudden arousal, and ran to the bedroom.

“Jamie, can you get this splinter out of my hand?”

“Sassenach, come out to the deck, it’s easier to find in the sun.”

When she didn’t respond he followed her into their room and barely caught her when she jumped on him. He found her bossy lovemaking adorable until she pulled him into orbit and the slave became the ruler.

Later, Claire walked out to the foredeck and was stunned by the crystal clear water and marine life that was everywhere she looked. She grabbed the bridge phone and asked Darius how long to get to the island.

“One hour and I want a promise you will wait until we’re moored before you jump overboard. Claire?”

“Yes, yes, I will jump overboard, goodbye, and hurry.”

Jamie was dispatched to make sure his wife stayed on board and the two of them hung over the side of the yacht to watch for sea life. Jamie helped Darius with mooring the boat and the girls were overboard without a backward glance. Darius dug out the snorkels, flippers, and masks and threw them overboard before locking up the yacht and diving into the water. They all found a slice of heaven in the clear water and did not return to the boat until the sun was setting.

Jamie was exhausted and could hardly get the fork to his mouth for dinner. Darius told him to pace himself because they would here for as long as they wanted. Jamie laughed and said “too much fun” with his mouth full of peas. Claire found him asleep on their bed still in his trunks and she smiled at her prince, praying for some time before one of them was taken for training.

The following day they tendered to shore to look around and find some local fun. Jamie promised Claire he would catch up and took off to find a store and then a post service. He paid cash for the fastest service to Germany, then Scotland.

Three days later, Jenny received a package from a remailer in Germany. She pulled out a card and read the note as she struggled to the kitchen table to sit down.

Dear Mrs. Murray, Thank you for your order. Enjoy your new phone and see the operating instructions before plugging it in the first time.

She had not ordered a phone which was confusing, but she was stuck on the handwriting because it looked just like Jamie’s. That was impossible, and her eyes stung with fresh tears remembering him. She pulled out the folded instructions and on the inside he had written, “keep the phone on and with you at all times. JAMMF” Jenny stared at the letters and backed into the refrigerator before running upstairs to wake her husband and show him.

Ian rolled toward the tapping on his shoulder and smiled at his pregnant wife. He stared at the handwriting and the initials on the instructions. This was Jamie’s way of contacting them without phone taps finding him, or the cruelest joke in history. He pulled Jenny to his side and pulled the phone and cord out, plugging it in.

“We will keep it charged and on us at all times. Okay, Dove?”

Jenny reached for the ringing phone two nights later and immediately started to cry. She heard Jamie’s voice and thought she would choke from crying so hard. His calming voice helped her get over the shock that he was still alive. He asked her to wake Ian and turn on the speaker to which Ian replied “go ahead, Jamie.”

Jamie told them everything about Frank, Casper, his wife, and Hesser, the man in charge of Black Ops.

“Ian, will you find Rupert and tell him everything I’ve told you?”

“Of course Jamie, I’ll do it tomorrow. Why Rupert?”

“He’s a good friend and might have some pointers about dealing with Hesser, maybe he learned something in the special services.”

“Jamie, I feel so bad for you and Claire. I wish there was something we could do to help. Can ye get that tracking device out of yer arm?”

“I hope so, it’s something we’re working on.”

Jamie ended the call soon after and told them he would call another time. He never thought he would pit a friend against the likes of Hesser and hung his head in shame for having no other solution. It was never confirmed, but he knew things about Rupert and his time in the service. He prayed for forgiveness and his guilt raged for several days after.

Ian smiled at Rupert through the window as he walked up to the construction trailer. Rupert was the job manager for a new shopping center going up in Edinburgh. He launched out of his seat, shook hands with his old friend, and the two sat down to talk for a bit.

Ian knew there was a special bond between Jamie and Rupert because Jamie saved his life when they were eleven years old. Rupert, Angus, Ian, and Jamie were inseparable when they were kids, always looking for something fun to do with the long summer days. When it was hot, they would head into the forest to find the big tree that hung into the ravine, right over the rushing creek that cut through the woods. Jamie was first to swing into the center of the ravine and let go, falling ten feet into the water. Ian was next followed by Angus, but Rupert wanted nothing to do with it. It took all summer, but they finally talked him into it and he held the rope shaking from head to toe. He was quite sure he would fall to his death but none of his friends had, so he forced his bravery and jumped off the edge of the ravine. Unprepared for the stark terror of clinging to a rope over a drop that seemed one hundred feet down he refused to let go. Jamie got concerned and backed up to jump off the edge with enough speed to reach the rope. If he had missed, the momentum of his body would have dropped him into the rocks on the other side of the creek, so it was utterly heroic to an eleven-year-old.

Jamie caught the rope and told Rupert to hang onto to his waist, and then he dropped them into the water, pulling Rupert to the bank and going on about his bravery. Jamie was his hero after that, and Rupert made no attempt to hide that fact.

Ian looked Rupert in the eyes, remembering his break down at Jamie’s memorial, and decided to just blurt it out after swearing him to silence.

“Jamie’s alive Rupert, but he’s in trouble, so keep it secret please.” Ian told the story of Jamie being rescued and revived by a man named Hesser, a Black Ops CIA boss that threatened to turn him over to his captors or kill him outright if he didn’t follow orders. He covered Jamie’s marriage to none other than Casper, the art thief, the very person he gained his freedom to catch. Rupert seemed to be playing with something in his desk drawer while every word was seared into his brain. When Ian stopped talking, Rupert looked up, “Ye tell Jamie, I gotcha brother.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ll be prayin for im.” Then he slapped Ian on the back and walked him out to his truck.

One week later, the moonlight shined on the raised barrel of a sniper rifle with a twelve-inch silencer attached to its end. An eyeball looked through the night scope from over a mile away and twisted the calibration dial and focus. Rupert crouched on top of a water tower with a clear sight to the CIA parking lot and Hesser’s vehicle. He had been in this position for three nights, waiting for the man to show up. When he climbed the tower that night he was relieved to see Hesser’s car in the lot and waited for his five-second opportunity to remove him from Jamie’s life. When Hesser walked out of the building Rupert trained his rifle on the man’s head, exhaled, and took his shot.

To the CCTV cameras, it looked like Hesser bent down to unlock his car door when he was actually sprawled on the blacktop missing half of his head. He wasn’t noticed for an hour, giving Rupert time to break the rifle down into separate plastic bags that he would return to his comrade-in-arms. He still had to drive the pieces back to Maryland, then he would jump on a plane back to Scotland. The only emotion he felt was relief that Jamie and his wife were safe.

“James Fraser, get out of the water this instant!”

Jamie looked up at Claire on the foredeck, hands on hips, looking exasperated. He knew there was no use putting this off and swam to the aft deck, throwing his flippers up on the boat and hoisting his body up after them. He found Claire in their bathroom with a chair pushed into the vanity right under the sink. She pushed Jamie’s head back and started mixing the chemicals to turn his red hair blonde.

She looked down at him and smiled, making his stomach do flip-flops. “Don’t look so scared Jamie, it will look good, I promise.”

“I don’t care how it looks Sassenach, it is a bit late for this, isn’t it?”

“Not if we can find a doctor on the island willing to cut into my arm and remove the whateveritis.”

“Why not use me as the guinea pig?”

“Because you have been brutalized enough lately. It’s my turn.”

Jaime could smell the chemicals being squeezed onto his hair and ran his hand up Claire’s leg, making her squirm and laugh. He closed his eyes when he felt her hands spreading the mixture through his hair. He thought about Rupert and wondered if he had taken the initiative. So far the news had been devoid of any attack on the CIA chief, and each day was one day closer to men boarding their boat and taking one of them away. Jamie shivered at the thought.

“You have twenty minutes to wait. Do you want your book?”

“Hmm?”

Claire could see Jamie was already falling asleep, so she left him alone and got the chair ready on deck to cut his hair. When she rinsed out the hair color, she noticed it looked very light and wondered if she made a mistake. The sun dried his hair as she cut it and when it was combed into his new style, he almost took her breath away.

“Are you looking that way because blonde is not a good color on me, Sassenach?”

“Quite the contrary, actually.”

“Wow, you were good looking before, but now you’re drop-dead gorgeous! That’s an American saying I learned,” Maia giggled, “it means you look even better.”

“Thank you, Maia,” he chuckled.

The next day they all went ashore, Jamie and Claire had a doctor appointment to remove Claire’s tracking device and the others wanted to see a bit of Jamaica. Claire was getting uncomfortable with the women staring at Jamie. One stopped on the sidewalk and just watched them pass.

“Jesus Christ, haven’t these people seen blonde hair before?”

Jamie gave her a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. When they entered the medical facility, Claire was getting nervous. What if the doctor turned them over to the police? It wasn’t everyday people came in with trackers in their arm. At least she didn’t think so.

The Jamaican doctor nodded a few times and looked at Claire’s incision that had healed to a thin red line. He was a man of few words which sharpened the edge Claire was feeling.

“Lay here and I will try to find it.”

The doctor came back into the room with a medical device that used sonar technology to find foreign objects under the skin. He pressed a wand into Claire’s skin around the incision and listened with headphones as he calibrated the machine. He was getting concerned because the machine was blinded by another pulse, but that was impossible. He moved the wand to Claire’s leg, then feet, then her back before he removed the earphones and turned the machine off. His face did not look right to Claire, and she was ready to come undone.

“Please doctor, tell us something, I am getting terrified because I thought this would be an easy removal.”

The doctor sat on his stool and shook his head. “The chip in your arm might be identifiable like a GPS bouncing off a satellite. But it is using some kind of sonar technology to ping into your body. Until you discover what it is pinging to, you should not remove it.”

“What?”

“What do you think it’s pinging to doctor?”

“It’s only a guess, but it might be looking for a second object that was introduced into your body at the same time. It could be anywhere and small enough to inject.”

“That makes no sense, doctor.” Jamie could hear the almost hysterical pitch to her voice.

“I think I understand. Sonar technology is also on the chip and it pings looking for something, like a specific shape that they injected. If we have the chip removed the ping sends a warning that it can’t find the shape. That’s as far as I got. So what then?”

“If someone wanted to know your whereabouts enough to implant a super RFID chip they don’t want you removing it and getting away. Just a guess, but when it’s removed, it may lock in your coordinates and …”

“The sky is filled with helicopters looking for us.”

Claire looked quite pale all of a sudden, and Jamie pulled her close. The doctor picked up his equipment and headed toward the door. He looked at them both.

“A life of crime does not suit either of you. Why not do an honest day’s work? Handsome men get pictures in magazines, make lots of money, put a hex on my nurse so now she just waits at the clinic door!”

The doctor laughed and left before seeing Claire’s eyes roll. On the way out, she regarded the nurse with an I-dare-you-look and they left, more rattled than before. Back on the yacht, they filled the others in on what they learned.

“That is diabolical,” Darius shook his head.

“I don’t get it,” Maia looked wide-eyed at the group.

"It’s a sonar warning system in case they have the chips removed. They put something else in their bodies that the sonar looks for. If it can’t be found, because the chip is removed, it locks in their location and they flood the area with agents. It is pretty hard to hide a yacht of this size.”

“Just take the other thing out as well then.” Maia looked at the three of them like they were dumb.

“They have no idea where the object is. It wasn’t implanted with an incision, it was probably injected.”

Maia rubbed her temples like she had a headache. “I’m going for a swim before I start dinner.”

Maia left to jump overboard, Claire went to feed Adso, and the guys went to the bridge to think and bounce ideas. Five minutes later, Maia ran up the aft deck and saw Claire sitting in the saloon staring into space.

“I get it now! Oh my God! You look like you just lost your best friend, but I’m still here, so get your ass in the water. Claire?”

When she didn’t move Maia boldly walked into the saloon and stood next to Claire dripping water on the Persian rug. She pinched her suit and a fat drop of water squeezed out and rolled down her hip. She pointed at it rolling down her leg.

“Okay, okay, Maia, I just want to sulk for five minutes.”

“No!”

Claire jumped in the water followed by fins, masks, and snorkels that Maia threw overboard. She felt the usual excitement pulling her fins on and decided to worry later, diving deep to catch up with her friend.

Darius and Jamie were on the side deck watching the girls dive for shells. The contrast of moods was not lost on Jamie.

“How can they be so happy? All they do is hunt for pretty things, they could at least spear some fish for dinner.”

He and Darius both laughed at the absurdity of his statement.

“I need to speak freely, Jamie.” Darius looked out at the ocean and took a deep breath. “What if the second object does more than act as a warning when the chip is removed? You said Hesser placed no value on your life other than what you could do for him. What if the second object is programmed to kill you, like releasing a neurotoxin if the ping stops?”

Jamie had a pained expression on his face and gripped the railing, making the veins in his arms stick out. “Certainly something to consider. Thanks.” He slapped Darius on the shoulder and left the bridge to find sanctuary before he lost his mind. When the turpentine hit his nostrils his racing heart slowed down and the painter came out. He pulled a canvas out of hiding and set it on his easel. It was Darius, on the bridge, the morning of their wedding. He stood looking out at the water with the glorious purple, orange, and magenta of the sunrise seen through the windows. Jamie was intrigued by his face. A wide smile flanked by deep grooves, solid jaw, and floppy hair, but his eyes shined with intelligence and calm confidence. His shirt was open and the instruments were reflected off the flat planes of his chest and stomach. Jamie’s expert use of color contoured his face like a photograph, and he stood back to look at the finished painting. He lettered “The Captain” in a lower corner and left to clean up for dinner.

Climbing the steps to the saloon was a shock when the rays of sunrise stung his eyes. He could hardly remember the hours of night going by, but the image of Claire looking at the picture and kissing him goodnight finally surfaced. He was filled with gratitude for such an extraordinary partner.

[levisqueaks]

85- John and Jamie

Hi Nonnie! Thanks for the request!

85 - "You should wear this again"

Jamie had been to what felt like a thousand dinners in fancy dress. He had dined with princes, kings, and lords. He had been counted as a member of court and had suffered through endless dull evenings where the wine couldn’t touch the boredom of rich, petty people out of touch with the suffering of ordinary citizens.

But recently, as a guest of Lord Grey, he found himself rather enjoying these state dinners. Of course they were still filled with obnoxious buffoons who wouldn’t know honest, hard work if it bit them in their oversized arses. It was John who made it bearable.

Jamie sipped his wine as he watched John speak to some pompous duke with an overly powdered wig and narrowed his eyes when he noticed a flash of bruising just barely noticeable over the edge of his stock when John shifted.

It was a new stock that wee Byrd had brought out for John. “Fashionable, Mi’lord,” he had promised. It sat slightly lower on his throat and with that spare inch, Jamie’s possessive bite peaked ever so carefully over the laced edge whenever John cocked his head as he often did to show he was listening.

The mark showing boldly there spurred lust and possessive urges in Jamie that he had hardly expected to rear up so quickly. He caught John’s eyes and something of his passion must have shown by the slight widening of pretty blue eyes and the flush that rose across the apples of Grey’s cheeks.

Jamie was caught up in a conversation then with a Lady to whom Claire was acquainted and he reluctantly tore his eyes from John to pay attention to it.

It was torture.

Whenever there was a reprieve, even if just a scant second, Jamie’s eyes would scan and locate John, zeroing in on the gentle slope of his neck. Damn the man but he wasnae playing fair and Jamie was desperate to catch him alone.

He soon found his chance when John had edged toward the doorway. Jamie followed quickly and slipped from the room a while after John and caught him as he entered the Library. Jamie knew that John was alone and he only spared a scant moment to scan the room for witnesses as he closed the door and pressed John firmly back against the wood.

“Christ, Jamie!”

“Hush,” Jamie growled in response, dragging his fingers quickly through the knot to drag the stock open as he pressed himself firmly against John, dwarfing the man’s slighter frame with his own as he took John’s lips in a possessive kiss.

John moaned and pressed up eagerly into the kiss, hands running up Jamie’s shoulders and then down to grab Jamie’s arse, rocking himself forward against the thick thigh that had pressed up against him, “what the devil has gotten into you, Fraser?” John demanded as they broke the kiss. He was flushed red and panting, his eyes dark with lust and lips red and swollen. Jamie tugged the stock completely open and moved forward, a little lower than the bruise he’d left previously and sucked harshly into his neck. “Ye know well enough ye are driving me mad, John,” Jamie panted as he broke away to breathe, “every time ye move yer damn head my mark shows over the lace. Not enough, I dinna think anyone else noticed but it's driving me to madness with want for ye."

John moaned and rocked forward again against Jamie's thigh, helpless to stop from chasing his pleasure. "we have to stop, poor Tom will be beside himself if we muss our clothes. Later, Jamie. You can take me apart then. I just came for a book and we should get… Christ your mouth! We should get back."

Jamie grunted and pulled away, his own eyes narrowed in displeasure and lips pinkened from where he had been sucking a dark mark into John's throat. He lifted shaky hands to carefully refasten the stock in place, smoothing out the edges until John looked flushed but decent for company. "Aye," he agreed as he looked John up and down. "Aye I suppose we should at that." He backed up to give John room to retrieve his book and he smoothed his hands down his waistcoat before turning back to John, hand braced on the doorknob. "John?" he waited until Grey's blue eyes were staring into his own. "You should wear that more often."

He left John then, a small smile curling his lips as he rejoined the party.

They really were better with Grey.

[desperationandgin]

Deep as the Road is Long (Part III, Chapter 25)

Rating: Fluff ‘n smut

Also Read On: AO3

Previous Chapter

November 2017

A wedding in November, in Scotland, will be wet. The weather is categorically rainy if not a little misty most days, especially in the fall. Everyone knew this the moment the date was set.

Facts don’t keep Claire from having a slight panic attack when it begins to downpour ten minutes before the wedding and she still has to walk from Lallybroch proper to the large barn where the wedding and reception both will be held. Everything else has been perfect; her dress had to be loosened just a bit to make room for a little more fullness to the chest, but it was easy to take care of in the hands of Jenny. The barn, a brand new structure built for cattle that will arrive in the spring, only smells of fresh wood now, white lights strung up to give a modern-rustic atmosphere. Nothing has been out of place, no one’s surprised her with snags, but she’s in her dress, makeup and hair done, and can’t imagine walking through wet grass and mud to the actual barn. There’s a flurry of seeing if perhaps someone can simply drive her the short distance when Jenny excuses herself and starts speaking through a minimal crack in the door, hissing at who Claire assumes is Jamie about traditions and superstition.

“Sassenach,” comes his voice from the other side of the door, speaking directly to her now and bypassing his sister. “If ye let me in I promise it willna be bad luck. Besides, we woke together, what could change now?”

Taking a gulping breath of air and blaming her hormones, she nods at her soon to be sister-in-law and looks up as Jamie walks in. For a moment, she forgets everything at the sight of him in a kilt and tartan, hair loose and curls free but well-groomed, facial hair close shaven. Immediately she’s at ease as he kneels in front of her, taking one of her hands. “Ye ken we could get marrit covered in muck and it wouldna dampen any of the happiness?”

Swallowing, she nods, taking a deep breath and letting it out.

“Grab yer bouquet,” he says as he stands. Once she has it in hand, he simply picks her up, lifting her effortlessly.

“Jamie!”

“Ye’ll no’ worry about ruining the bottom of yer dress. Or yer shoes.”

It’s such a sweet gesture that she doesn’t bother to tell him her hair is going to be a wreck. Not to mention her makeup. She simply tucks her face against his shoulder once he walks outside, laughing softly at how ridiculous this must look. “My hero,” she murmurs, not even sure if he hears her.

With minimal damage to her hair and makeup (damage that Jenny fixes easily), the wedding proceeds as planned. Except for a brief moment when they need the rings; their wayward ringbearer decides to run toward freedom and the back exit of the barn. When Jamie jogs to catch him mid-ceremony and tosses him playfully over his shoulder, it warms Claire in a way that makes her reflexively press a hand to her still flat (at least when clothed) stomach. This man was made to be a father, and that her body has given them such a sweet surprise is something she hasn’t stopped being grateful for. Shocked, but grateful.

After the ceremony, his mother’s rings both on her finger, their kiss isn’t shy in front of a crowd that amounts to his entire family (Uncles and cousins she’d only met at the engagement party two weeks prior) and Gillian. It has her turning a nice shade of pink as they part and the reception begins. It’s a long party, filled with plenty of whisky and dancing and stolen moments just for them. (Claire’s pretty sure Gillian is flirting with a man named Rupert, but she doesn’t keep tabs well enough to know for certain.) When they dance toward the end of the night and everyone’s in a happy but sleepy state, she rests her head on Jamie’s shoulder and sways to Little Girl Blue, just as they had two years ago.

All parties must come to an end, and at one in the morning, they stumble to Jamie’s old room and collapse in bed, both of them too exhausted to do anything but remove clothing. When she wakes, sunlight filtering in through the curtains, Claire realizes Jamie’s still asleep--a rare thing, waking before him. It gives her the luxury of watching him though, her husband, heart aching in the best way as she manages to catch him smiling while he dreams. He’s beautiful, this husband of hers, and she reaches out to drag her knuckles along his scruff. Unable to help herself, she leans in to brush her lips against his softly. He never opens his eyes, never makes a sound, but she feels him kiss back just before pulling her closer. She’s very nearly on top of him as his hands glide down the smooth expanse of her back, coming to rest on her backside.

“Good morning,” she finally murmurs softly, nuzzling her nose against his.

Jamie hums low in the back of his throat, and when he speaks his voice is low and gravelly from non-use. “Mornin’, Sassenach.” He corrects himself. “Mornin’, wife.”

She grins and tries to kiss him at the same time before responding in kind. “Husband.”

One of his hands moves back around only to find hers, pressing their palms flat together, feeling their new wedding bands touch. He’d finally taken off his first ring at the same time Claire removed hers, placing them both in the wooden box his mother’s rings once resided in. The heirloom, freed from storage, now sits proudly cleaned and polished on their dresser, holding other precious things as well. (Jamie’s father’s ring, a brooch that once belonged to Claire’s mother.) “What is it about ye, Claire?” he asks quietly, one finger now tracing the lines of her palm.

“What do you mean?” she responds, taking the opportunity to bend down and kiss him a little more fully, belly pressing to his while they’re both still warm and languid from sleep.

“I’m no’ even sure,” he tells her truthfully. “Only that to see ye each morning makes me love ye even more than the day before. How can I keep falling in love wi’ ye, day after day?”

“Do you have any idea that the things you say would make every woman in Scotland throw themselves at your feet?”

He chuckles softly before kissing her again, then nuzzling the side of her nose. “I dinna ken about that.”

“Oh, I do. You’ll have to trust me on the fact,” she murmurs as she repositions herself directly on top of him, pushing all of her hair to one side to better kiss him. It’s a deep kiss (they should have both gotten up to brush their teeth, but she doesn’t care and it doesn’t seem to be that he does either), one that has her tongue lewdly gliding over his. Claire smiles to herself as she feels his hands gravitate toward her (apparently irresistible) backside again, able to feel his want for her low against her stomach.

Slowly, her kisses travel downward in small swatches of skin at a time. She takes a moment to appreciate the pulse against his neck, sucking, then kissing before moving along the middle of his chest, nosing the hair there before continuing on her path.

“Where do ye think you’re going, Sassenach?” His voice is suspiciously hoarse.

Laughing quietly to herself, her tongue circles his navel, laughing again when she feels each muscle tense and then ripple into relaxation. “I have a plan,” she promises. “I’m sure you can guess it if you think long and hard.” Her words make her snicker, her own private joke.

“Oh, I have an idea, and if ye must know, both me and my cock believe it to be a verra good idea.”

His words make her laugh outright, delighted to feel his hands in her hair and see the warmth of his smile before settling between his thighs. “With sweet words like that, how could I ever resist you, Mr. Fraser?” Before he can answer, her hand grasps the base of him, mouth covering him in slow, enveloping warmth.

Jamie is positive that no other pleasure on the face of the planet could ever compare to that of his wife taking him into her mouth, but still, he manages to speak somewhat coherently. “Ye never were good at pretending ye didna want me, Mrs. Fraser.”

It’s an appropriate call-out, but it only makes her more focused on the task at hand. It’s empowering, to know she can reduce him to wanting gasps and groans; a big hulking Scot who could likely murder with one cold and well-placed stare, made to whimper by her mouth. It’s incredible, and as she moves, one hand rests at his hip, lightly digging her fingernails into his flesh; enough to leave half-moon shapes in his skin. His responding grunt at the hint of pain mixing with pleasure has her looking for tells already that he’s soon to give over to pleasure.

“Mo chridhe, mo nighean donn.”

There it is. Not one but two of his terms of endearment for her, and in Gaelic, to boot. Raising her head, Claire kisses his inner thigh before shifting upward, leaning over him to kiss his throat as she guides him into her body. With a quiet sigh, she shudders as he fills and stretches her, rocking slowly for now. “How is this better every time?” she asks, appreciating the fact that pleasuring him was as good as foreplay for her, effortlessly rising and falling on him, unable to keep a quiet whimper from escaping her lips.

Jamie’s hands rest against her hips, rolling his own upward against her. He’s having a harder time focusing on words, and instead just shakes his head. He doesn’t know, but he feels it too, the way it seems as though pleasure is a fuse from the moment they begin kissing and touching. The explosion is inevitable, and together they can only delay the end result for so long. She craves the warmth and friction, gasping as pleasure prickles up her spine and back down again. As she rocks, she manages to grind right against his pubic bone, and once she figures that out, she’s shameless. Claire rocks as hard as she can into the motion, both hands spread on his chest as she does.

“There. There, Jamie, God, don’t--stop.” Her words falter as her eyes close and she begins moving in a blur. She can feel his fingers tightening against her hips, can feel him straining with the effort to maintain control.

”Tha mi gu bhith a ‘tighinn,” he mutters; he’s coming, soon.

It isn’t the words she understands, but the fact that he’s speaking another language, and she lets herself go, crying out his name with her body bowed over his, foreheads touching, fingers wound tightly in his hair. When she falls apart she can feel the way her body tightens and pulls, trying to get him deeper, trying to make him lose control.

It works; Jamie’s eyes slam shut and he thrusts upward once, twice more, then wraps his arms completely around Claire, crushing her to his chest (soon, her belly will be too big for them to love one another this way) as he spills into her. Together they pant, the sound seeming to fill the room. Slowly, she sinks down so that she’s laying right on top of him along his chest; in a moment she’ll need to get up, but for now, she simply listens to his heartbeat. Once she can breathe again, she smiles and kisses his chest one more time.

“That was a nice preview of our honeymoon.”

Both of them chuckle about it before Jamie pulls her up to snag her lips again.

“The rest of our lives, Sassenach.”

Next Chapter

[renee-writer]

I Fought the Law Chapter 81 Wedding Night

A/N Also fills the Feb 1st prompt 'let's get it on'

AO3

He carries her over the threshold. She laughs from his arms. “Do you know where this tradition comes from?”

 

“No.” before he kisses her. Her fingers wrap tightly in his hair, holding him in place. He kicks the door closed and carries her the rest of the way in. Their wedding night is being spent in his, now their flat. They will leave for a honeymoon in London in the morning.

 

“Well my husband , let me enlighten you.” He lays her on the bed, undoing her dress as she continues. “In the time where brides were kidnapped, the man would carry the unwilling woman over the threshold of his home, rape her, and then, they were considered married.”

 

“Truly?” He sits up as he slips her dress off her shoulders.

 

“Truly.” It falls to her waist, revealing a tiny lace bra. His pupils completely dilate and the tips of his ears turn bright red. She grins and reaches done under his kilt. “Why Mr. Fraser, you naughty man. There is nothing under your kilt.”

 

He swallows hard. “There was, during the ceremony. Before we left the Kirk yard I removed them.”

 

“Well, my Scottish warrior, there is no need to take me by force.” She reaches back with one hand and removes her bra, “Let’s get it on.”

 

“Aye Mrs. Fraser.” He falls on her breasts. Her moans fill the room as her hand plays with him under the kilt. Licks and sucks before he moves down to her belly kissing across it.

 

His shirt is removed. Her dress slipped off ( they take the time to hang it up) He finds her panties match her bra. Tiny and mainly lace. Slipping down, he tastes her through it, breathing in the enticing scent of her desire. Turned on enough to tent his kilt, he starts to lick across it.

 

“Oh my Jamie!” Called out as one hand slips up to play with her erect nipple and the other slips inside and starts doing what his cock longs to. “So bloody good!”

 

Licking across her cloth covered clit while his fingers work her, soon has her climaxing hard. When her hoarse cries end and her body stills, he slips her sodden panties off. Now his tongue really goes to work.

 

Later, when she can breath again, she turns to him. “What is it they say that a true Scot wears under his kilt? Only lipstick right?” She slips under. It is a wonderfully long night.

[bee-kathony]

Four Years | Year Three - “May 17th, 2016″ 

a/n: thank you all so much for the lovely comments on this story! I know it’s tough, but we’ve gotten through the worst so far! xx

Year One | Year Two

January 9th, 2016 | January 24th, 2016 | March 3rd, 2016 | March 30th, 2016 | April 10th, 2016

Jamie and I both decided that we needed a night alone — just the two of us. So we had taken Fergus to Lallybroch along with Annie and were now home and had just spent the last hour in the bath, covered in bubbles.

I had felt almost guilty for leaving Fergus there, but he loved it over there — playing with his cousins and of course with Annie.

Jamie had dried off and returned to our room with a towel hung loosely around his hips and I had waited til he left to climb out of the bath. I still had insecurities about my body.

“Sassenach?” Jamie called from our room and I finished drying my legs, tying the knot of my robe at my waist.

���Come to bed, a nighean,” He smiled from the bed, sitting on the edge with his hands resting on his knees. “Nothing hurts when ye love me.” He was right; nothing did.

I came to stand between his legs, holding on to the fold of my robe to keep myself covered. His hands slid along my thighs until settling on my waist, tugging on the belt that made me feel safe. But I was always safe with Jamie — my protector, my shield and strength.

“I want to look at ye, Claire,” he said softly, looking up at me through thick lashes. I always found it unfair how men always seemed to have such beautiful lashes while women needed mascara everyday. I touched them now gently making him laugh.

Yes, he’d seen me naked a few times since we lost Jane while he helped in my weakest times to bathe me. But we hadn’t properly made love like this since before Fergus had arrived into our lives and that was three months ago. Our quickie in the kitchen a couple of weeks ago, while amazing, was different…

Since I had lost our daughter, I no longer felt beautiful — I thought I was flawed in some strange way since I couldn’t do what my body was made to do. But as I looked down into the eyes of my husband, the only thing I felt was beautiful. It was the way his hands were slowly pulling at my robe, insistent and needy. The way his knees pressed tightly against my outer thighs, holding me close to him. The way his lips were parted, his tongue snaking out as more and more of my skin was revealed.

“Look your fill, James Fraser,” I said coyly as I let the robe drop from my shoulders. With his help, the rest of the robe fell in a puddle at our feet. Gently, reverently, his hands cupped both of my breasts and I wanted to sink down onto him right then and there.

“Tha thu cho bòidheach.”

It seemed that my naked body had rendered him only capable of Gaelic.

“What was that?” I smiled, cupping his chin with my fingers. His eyes moved from my breasts to my face, pink dotting his cheeks and ears.

“Yer so beautiful, my Sassenach,” Jamie said this time in English and then leaned forward, pressing his lips just above my navel. I squirmed slightly as it tickled, but his hands kept me steady. “Yer body is a gift to me and I treasure it always.”

As his lips covered my stomach with kisses, tears began to fall down my cheeks and drop onto his head. He must have felt one and looked up at me, his hand reaching up to wipe away the tears. “Dinna weep, mo ghraidh, but if ye must…” he smiled, “Weep because yer heart is full and happy.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” I laughed through my tears, mostly out of unbelief that this man was truly mine.

“I ask myself that question everyday, Sassenach,” Jamie smiled. “Now, let me get back to my work, if ye dinna mind.”

His lips found my navel again, but this time he moved south. “Oh I don’t mind,” I sighed, letting my hands settle on the top of his head. The tip of his tongue pressed against my skin and shivers coursed through my body. Suddenly, his hand slid under my thigh and he brought my foot to rest on the bed beside him.

“What are y—“

I was cut off most abruptly when he pressed his face between my thighs, one hand firmly on my hip. His auburn curls tickled my skin and as he flattened his tongue along my slit, I let out a low keening cry. A muffled “Mmmm” vibrated against me and I couldn’t help but buck my hips. I felt so exposed, so open and his tongue was doing something marvelous which had me calling out his name.

I brought his other hand around to hold my back and he let it fall to squeeze my arse, angling me towards his mouth. All I could hear was the sound of my own wetness and the gentle lapping from his tongue. Slowly, I began to grind my hips. “Christ, Jamie.”

Tugging on his curls, I wanted to bring him up to kiss me, but he simply shook his head and kept his place. When his tongue curled just so inside of me, I lost it. Spasms raced through my body and as I came, my legs gave out and I fell on top of him. Without missing a beat, Jamie rolled over, pining me to the bed, his towel falling off from around his hips.

“Kiss me,” I begged and he did. It was always interesting to taste myself on his lips, but I knew he found pleasure in sharing. “I need you, Jamie.”

“I’m no finished wi’ ye yet, mo nighean,” he whispered, his breath hot on my face. Jamie placed a kiss to my jaw, my neck and then in between my breasts. My hands found their way into his curls once again as he pressed his lips to my nipple, lightly sucking. It felt wonderful — almost too much. When Jamie took me to bed, it was always earth shattering. In the few years I had known him, not once had he let me leave the bed without making sure I had orgasmed. And sometimes, when I was stressed or my mind was full of nonsense, that took an awfully long time, but Jamie Fraser was always up to the task.

He swirled his tongue on my hard bud, electrifying my every nerve. His other hand giving attention to my neglected breast, he kneaded it gently. Licking around my areola, I felt his nose push against me and opened my eyes to see him move to the other breast. Jamie was taking his time, slowly breaking down my walls and with it my insecurities.

“Oh God,” moaning, my back arched off the bed, pressing my chest further into his open mouth. He was sucking deeply now, determined to make my nipples as sensitive as possible. “Jamie, please,” I begged, desperation leaking through my voice. “Please.”

Reluctantly parting from my breasts, Jamie slid up my body, “I love ye, Claire.” I reached my hand down, along the hard surface of his toned chest, my fingers lingering briefly in his wiry chest hairs. He was rock hard, his cock pressing against his stomach and he groaned as I touched him, his eyes fluttering.

“Don’t be gentle,” I said into his ear and he opened his eyes, staring down at me as he entered me in one swift motion. The feeling of him so deep inside me had lights popping behind my eyelids. The weight of his body on top of mine was a comfort. Jamie was still a moment, but then began rolling his hips, thrusting again and again. The rasp of his pubic hair against my clit had me pressing upwards to meet him.

“Oh, Claire,” he panted, kissing me, our bodies moving together. My lips felt swollen as he kissed me hard, daring me to break the seal. His body trembled and I felt the strength he had and how badly he wanted to push even harder, so I told him.

“Please, Jamie, I want to feel this,” I cried out. “Use me, take me… as hard as you need to.”

His eyes met mine and then he began a relentless rhythm. My head banged against the headboard from the power of his thrust and in the next moment, Jamie’s hand was on my hip, pulling us down further on the bed. I held onto him, gripping his arms and then slid them to his arse, urging him to move faster.

“Shit shit shit,” squeezing my eyes shut, I spread my legs as wide as I could, allowing him to press even further. All I felt was Jamie. My hands were filled with his flesh and my heart was filled with him. “Jamie!”

“Give me your mouth, Sassenach!” He leaned down, pressing firmly and with another powerful thrust I came. I had been so closed off emotionally and physically that as I orgasmed, I began to cry and this time from happiness. Jamie buried his head in my neck, spilling into me and with a grunt he pressed himself over me.

“Don’t crush me,” I whispered, laughing.

“Sorry, Sassenach,” Jamie rolled onto his side, bringing me with him. “I think ye’ve killed me.”

“I can feel your heart beating,” I smiled, laying my hand against his chest.

“I thought it would burst, mo nighean,” He pulled out of me, and I felt that emptiness I always did when he was no longer inside of me.

As I laid in bed, feeling sated and happier than I had been in months, I let my hand slowly trail along Jamie’s arm. He glanced down at me, through his thick lashes I was so jealous of — those blue eyes piercing right into my soul.

“What are ye thinkin’ mo nighean donn?”

“I’m thinking —“ I sat up a bit, leaning against the headboard, pulling the sheet up around my chest. “I want you to sing for me.”

“Sing?” He grunted, a Scottish sound. “I haven done that since—“ He trailed off, his hand finding mine and squeezing tightly. Jamie hadn’t sung for me since just before we lost Jane. He would play his guitar, strumming softly while he sang to my belly. Or he would occasionally tickles the ivories, letting the notes decide the tune.

“Will you?” I leaned over, kissing his shoulder. “I would really like to hear your voice.”

Nodding, Jamie kissed me before climbing out of bed and left our room. When he returned, he had his guitar in hand and a soft smile on his lips.

“Any preference, Sassenach?” He sat down on the edge of the bed — my side, right.

“Anything,” I smiled, my hand lying gently on top of his thigh.

Clearing his throat, he hummed a few notes as he tuned the guitar, strumming lightly before striking the first chord.

“There’s a somebody I’m longin’ to see, I hope that she turns out to be,” he sang softly, staring at the wall in front of him, “Someone who’ll watch over me.”

My throat tightened, eyes filling with tears as he sang. As he sang about our Jane.

Jamie looked down at me on the next verse, eyes filled with understanding, “I’m a little lamb who’s lost in the wood, I know I could, always be good to one who’ll watch over me.”

A small laugh erupted from my chest as tears fell from my eyes and I squeezed his leg for him to continue as his hand paused on the strings.

“Won’t you tell her please to put on some speed, follow my lead, oh how I need…” Jamie smiled, a single tear falling on his cheek, “Someone to watch over me.”

Placing the guitar down on the ground at his feet, Jamie then climbed on top of me, arms on either side of my body. I welcomed the weight of him, and I wrapped my arms around him, sighing as he kissed me cheeks.

“Do you think she’s watching over us?” I whispered, almost as if she was listening right now.

“Aye,” Jamie said with his head against my chest. I ran my fingers through his curls, wondering if Jane would have had curls like him or like me. “I do think she is. Our wee babe.”

“Ten percent.”

“Hmm?”

“Ten percent chance,” I repeated and Jamie turned his head to look up at me.

“We were blessed once, Claire,” Jamie said, kissing my lips. “We may be again someday.”

“We already are blessed, Jamie,” I smiled, sliding down further under the covers and he rolled us onto our sides. “I’m blessed to have you and to have Fergus! You’ve always taken care of me, even when I didn’t want you to.”

He laughed, brushing back my hair behind my ear. It was long now, just to my shoulders and I knew he was thinking of the day I shaved my head so I wasn’t surprised when he said as much.

“It was so hard, Sassenach. To see ye so fragile and no be able to do anythin’ about it,” He sighed. “Just like wi’ Jane. I felt so helpless. So… so weak. Not like the man I should be.”

“Jamie,” I smoothed my thumb over his bottom lip, “You are strong. And you are exactly who I need you to be. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t know what I would have done had I not met you. I told you once before that you saved my life.”

“Aye,” he chuckled at that. “When ye saw me naked in the shower, and fainted at the sight of me. Who kent that I had such power to make a lassie faint like that?”

I poked his nose with my finger adjusting as he pulled back the covers, sliding in next to me and making me instantly warm. “I did. You are temptation itself, Jamie Fraser. A walking inducement to everyone who lays eyes on you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” He smiled, moving his hands to my lower back, pressing my naked body against his.

“You should, but don’t change the subject,” I kissed him, my hand resting comfortably on his cheek. “You saved my life. It was because of you and my fall that I found out about the tumor. It’s because of you that I’m still alive today. So I want to thank you, because I’m sure I’ve not told you enough how much I love and appreciate you.”

His cheeks blushed red, and he buried his face into the crook of my neck, biting my shoulder lightly. I didn’t often verbally express how much I loved him — it was usually the other way around with Jamie spouting out his love.

“Look at me, my love,” I grinned, biting my bottom lip. His eyes met mine once again and I never wanted to look away. “Never — and I mean never think that you aren’t enough or that you’ve failed me in some way.”

Taking firm hold of my thigh, Jamie lifted my leg around his hip and silently we came together. My mouth pressed sloppily to the base of his neck, placing kisses there and licking the skin — tasting salt. His hands held me close, almost afraid that if he let go, I would disappear. And I felt that sometimes. That I would disappear, but it was always Jamie who brought me back to myself time and time again.

“Let me be enough,” He said softly, his hips moving against mine and I knew he wasn’t talking to me.

Winding my hands through his hair, I brought his lips against mine, mumbling against them over and over again, “You are enough.”

[jack-andthestalk]

Our Son, Arc II, To Lose you, Chapter 11

I usually thank @balfeheughlywed​ at this point because she is my reading gal and puts me straight when I am gone off course. But this week I almost broke her! So I really want to thank her for all her tiredless, 'but why? and straight out this isn't right talk she gave me. She always hits the nail on the head and made me do a bit of soul searching (dramatic much?) The epic @notevenjokingfic​ took my jibberish plot planning and really cleaned it up and set me straight again, I am actually giddy with the what we decided on and for the first time in ages can't wait to write! I also want to thank @ladyviolethummingbird​ and @laythornmuse​ who support this little fic so much and regularly squeal or shout at me in DM about their writing or often just random bants which really helps when I can't write a sentence. A little NSFW below the cut. 

Crawling up the length of my body, she nipped and sucked each expanse of skin, ignoring the part that needed her mouth most, teasing.

Dark curls were falling around her shoulders, almost reaching her naked breasts.  Cheeks rosy red from desire and the heat of our bodies.

My hand sought a nipple, but she moved quickly to evade my grasp. Her head fell back in a naughty giggle. I attempted to reach for her hips, encouraging her nearer.

  “uh uh,” she waggled a delicate finger at me. “Patience Jamie”

“Sassenach” – I surprised myself with the begging groan that came from my mouth – “I canna wait I need to be inside ye.” My hands were flailing around me as I attempted to pull her mouth to mine.

“all in good time” she whispered against my lips, not quite touching as her hand crept down and cupped my balls.

I was rocking brazenly beneath her, willing her hips to lock with mine as they should be, two magnets moulded to fit each other.

“you’ve been a bold boy Mr Fraser, and I intend on punishing you for it”, she squeezed

lightly making my cock twitch on demand.

“Aye,” I replied, bobbing my head eagerly “I have”, her tongue slid down the length of me, drawing a hiss from my mouth as my hand cupped the back of her head. “Claire” I pleaded again, earning me a stern look as she bent to my groin. She gently ran her teeth along my shaft, hips bucking off the bed now, decency be damned I was aching for her.

 “That’s it” she crooned. “Do as I say.”

Her hand ghosted over my stomach and chest, clutching for mine, once she grasped it she pulled it down to her mouth using the flat of her tongue to glide over my palm. “Touch yourself for me, Jamie”. My balls felt they were near to bubbling and my head fell back against the pillow. “I canna Claire – I.”

Her voice sure and smooth rose up against my ear, “you can Jamie, it’s just us.” she guided my hand down to my cock, “show me how you like it?”

Her hair swept around her face, she bit deeply into her bottom lip, eyes locked on mine, “then you can do whatever you want to me” she offered.

“Oh fuck” I reached down taking myself in hand, shutting my eyes tight. “that’s it” she praised, taking my free hand and placing two fingers into her mouth, she sucked deeply. The sensation of her fingers in her mouth made my stomach coil, I frantically pumped myself while using my free hand to rub and tease her breasts. She purred encouraging words in my ear and ran her tongue over me.

Claire ran her hand in under my ass, cupping a cheek and urging me to lift, my hips raised and met my hand at her inclination, she set the rhythm.

 I pleaded to her in Gaelic, praised her, thanked her, told her I loved her. She was the only woman that made me lose English, the irony was not lost on me.

Her mouth continued to suck my fingers in and out, her hips moving in tandem with mine. I knew I was going to come and soon, vaguely thought ye need to stop man or ye willna be no use to her. But I couldn’t, I tried to turn on my side, my body coiling in on itself to reach an end. Claire’s palm firm on my chest pushing me into the bed. “shhh” she whispered

“fuck, ye are amazing, do ye ken that?”

Then her tone changed, “your alarm is going off Jamie”. I lifted my head from the pillow to clutch her to me, but she was gone.

6.00am flashing on the clock beside my bed. Fuck.

My head fell back down as I tried to remember the dream, needed to stay in it for a moment or two longer until my heart rate returned to normal, wanted to pretend she was here beside me flushed with pleasure.

I imagined Claire’s reaction if I told her she haunted my dreams since I arrived here, suddenly the idea of telling her anything hit me like a punch to the stomach, oh god I missed her.

Our calls had been reserved, without saying it, Claire seemed to know I had to be careful of what I said. She didn’t push, but there were things that I wanted to say, they threatened to come bubbling out of me if I didn’t keep myself in check. Knowing each word was noted and logged.

I glanced at my phone to see if she had tried to return any of my calls from the day before. She hadn’t which was odd, she and Willie always rang before bed.

Rising slowly, I showered and prepared for the day. Meeting Geneva at the site before 8am. I had little control over what I did since I arrived. Everything I asked, everything that was asked of me was planned, rehearsed. Rising Geneva out of her bed at stupid o clock, to stand in the pissing rain, was a small triumph in terms of what I could control.

I was bone weary, not so much from the late nights poking and prodding budgets and trying to find a trail, it was the falsity I had to portray when I was around her. Interested.

I glanced at the clock again quickly and tried Claire one more time, she would be waking soon to get Willie ready for school.

It went straight to voicemail. A sliver of anxiety gripped my wame I tried to dismiss it as foolishness, she was probably just asleep, maybe her battery was dead. There was nothing amiss.

____

An hour later, I stood on a cold construction site with Geneva Dunsany, who, apart from a hard construction hat had dressed completely inappropriately for the weather.

As I went through each building explaining what was happening, telling her we were running over, a hopeful look, can she draw down more, how soon can she get it, where could she pull it from. Then let them watch.

I had to work at this, make her trust me. Dinners, sharing of pasts, attentive, make-believe. Never anything I couldn’t come back from, never putting me beyond Claire.

Ignoring her hand on my arm as she asked another nonsensical question about the depth of the Equine Swimming Pool, I forged ahead telling her a larger more expensive design would improve the horse's muscle tone faster, easier trained, quicker sold.

As usual, she bought it, another checkbox ticked.

More dinners, more lies, another set of ears listening and learning. Digging my way out piece by piece.

 ______

 “Ian man, what is going on at home? I have been trying to get Claire on the phone this past two days.” I tried to hide the growing anxiety, Ian would think me daft, but I couldn’t stop it. I had to contact him. Had to know where Claire was.

In hindsight, I should have known instantly, Ian’s voice stuttered slightly, tone hesitant. “Jamie, how are ye, how’s Hellsville?”

I immediately dropped the façade I had planned upon, “what’s wrong with Claire’s phone Ian?”

Another pause.

“Em, I dinna think there is ought wrong with it, man…”

“Is she avoiding me?”

“I’d say that could be more accurate alright.”

Something registered about Ian’s vagueness, almost as bad as my own answers these past few weeks.

“Is Janet listening to ye?”

“Aye.”

“Can ye tell me what I have done to Claire?”

I heard muttering in the background.

“What did Jenny say?”

Another pause.

“She said yer a prick.”

My stomach turned.

“What the hell is wrong Ian, will ye no spit it out and tell Jenny to keep her nib out.”

Ian sighed deeply. “Geneva Dunsany answered yer phone.”

“She what?” I asked incredulously.

“She answered yer phone to Claire?”

My mind was whirling, palms wet. “Why the fuck would she – “

“In the wee hours of the morning” Ian whispered into the phone, I wasn’t sure to protect himself or me.

“When?” – I tried to think quickly, when had she access to my phone, god what was Claire thinking surely she would know I wouldn’t – fuck.  I saw her then as clear as day, her face close enough I could touch it. Lips trembling slightly, her back set proudly. A tell she had when she was hardening herself not to cry. “Why Jamie?”

I rucked a hand through my hair, kicking something across the room, “Can you get Claire to talk to me?”

Ian either didn’t hear me or was choosing to ignore me. “She was doing braw Jamie, ye should ha seen her and the lad around the farm helping out, I actually think she mightha stayed…” he trailed off.

“Where is she?”

Suddenly there was shuffling, and Jenny’s voice came on the phone “a bràthair?

 “Janet will ye tell Claire –“

“She sat at the table” – Jenny’s tone was nearer a growl “she was fierce, she dinna let Dougal cloud her mind when he insinuated that something was going on with ye and that Dunsany bitch.”

“Claire?” I asked stupidly

“Aye, who do ye think.” Jenny snapped.

“She held her head high and she dinna waiver, but then I said let’s ring Jamie, tell Jamie what the fuck wit of an uncle has been up to, thought we would all have a good laugh at it, I never thought that she would be answering yer fucking phone at 2 o clock in the morning Jamie!” Jenny’s tone was shrill, I knew it she was beyond mad, she was upset.

“Jenny, it’s not what ye think, I dinna ken what Geneva was playing at but – I.”

“Oh she kens exactly what she is playing at” Jenny said through gritted teeth, “She was cute enough to ring Dougal the next morning, told him that she answered yer phone to Claire, said ye were sorry Claire had to find out like that, had Dougal call to Claire in the cottage and do yer bidding .”

A sharp inhale of breath, “In – front – of – Willie” she said pointedly.

My mouth fell open, throat tightening painfully, that conniving bitch, how could I have been so stupid?

“He told Claire” I choked out, “that we were sorry? Jesus”

  I said exhaling loudly. Flopping to the bed as my legs gave way.

A voice in the back of my mind kept saying, don’t forget their listening. I didn’t care, I had to know.

“Jenny”, I couldn’t hide the shake in my voice,

“Aye.” Her tone was softer now, her breathing starting to calm.

I swallowed painfully. “Where are Claire and Willie?”

My cheeks were wet, and my heart was thumping so hard I thought it would break through my ribs.

“they’re gone,” she said sorrowfully. “Jamie” – her tone was pleading -  “Claire missed ye so much, but she put on such a brave face, the poor lass couldna stay here a day longer thinking ye had betrayed her.”

I pinched my eyes with my thumb and forefinger willing the tears to stop, I sniffed noisily. Jenny’s soft voice was murmuring comfort into the phone, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“Can ye explain it to her Jamie, maybe she will listen to ye…”

“that’s the worst of it Janet” I choked into the phone, “I canna explain it, just now.”

The softening sympathetic tone lacing Jenny's voice suddenly reverted to the shriller tone of earlier. “What do ye mean ye canna explain it? For god’s sake, Jamie do ye want to lose them?”

“Are ye mad Janet, of course, I dinna want that – I just need to think a minute will ye let me think.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line, breathing heavily through my nose as I racked my brain trying to come up with a way to tell Claire, to make her understand what was going on here.

Bile was rising up my throat as I imagined her reaction, what she thought of me, how she must hate me. Fear gripping my insides that I wouldn’t be able to change her mind.

Geneva had planned this, as I was busily conspiring against her and her family, she naively believed that if she removed Claire from the picture, there was something to be gained between her and me, that was my fault.

 I had brought this on us, I had followed directions, played along to get the answers, didn’t rebuke unwarranted touches or flirtatious smiles. I had led Geneva to believe there was hope. I had left Claire, and I open to this, it didn’t matter that it was a lie, how would I ever explain this without telling her why?

How could I make her believe it was only her for me? That it was laughable, I would ever want Geneva Dunsany in any way.

I couldn’t go to her yet without sabotaging everything. If I left Geneva would never face the consequences of her action, all of this would have been for nothing.

There had been nothing but silence on the phone for a long time, Jenny just waited as if knowing I had to try and work out what I could say.

I… I need to ask something of you, Jenny?" I said, sometime later, my voice sounded different to my own ear, smaller, less almost.

“Yes,” she said without faltering.

“When ye can get through to Claire, will ye tell her two things from me.”

I heard Jenny swallow, and she hoarsely mumbled: “Aye Jamie, go on.”

“Tell her I love her, and tell her not to forget that I am her obligation, so she needs to try to keep her promise.”

Jenny remained silent, probably wondering what the hell I was going on about, but eventually, I heard static and her sure voice saying “Aye, I will a bràthair.”

If nothing else, the fear in my tone had achieved one thing. My sister believed me, without reason or explanation, she knew.

I hung up the phone, one thing clear in my mind. I had to get word to Claire. I couldn’t lose her.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Flood my Mornings: Found

I know, right??? Thank you for bearing with me while I’ve taken a wee ten month sabbatical! And thank you, too, for dropping in every now and again to remind me of how much you love this story. It means the world! - With love, Mod Bonnie 

This story takes place in an AU where Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

FMM Master List 

Previously: Hectic

Found

Early December, 1952

.

“Hey, Mummy?”

“Yes, pumpkin?”

“Um! Why come—”

“How....”

“—How come my hairs is all gray in all tha’ pictures?”

One grammar victory at a time.

“Cameras only can show things in black and white. Ours, anyway.”

Taking pictures was always great fun; poring over them once they’d come back from the developer, a joy, particularly coupled with Jamie’s still-sharp wonder in their implicit magic. Actually following through with organizing them into albums, though? A bloody-hateful chore I’d managed to put off for nearly a year, this time. The red album already held Ian’s first six months or so, but most of his subsequent life had accumulated in lazy shoeboxes and (better late than never) now lay scattered around Bree and me in a shiny arc on the living room floor. 

“Wouldn’t them—those pictures be better if it was all the right ones?” She popped up from hands and knees to shove a fistful of ginger curls toward me. “The good colors?” 

“Absolutely! Maybe someday.”

She nodded once, satisfied. “You should go tell them to.”

“Tell who?”

Shrug. “Camera people.”

“I’ll write Mr. Kodak right away.”

“Good. Which picture’re we doin’ next?”

“Hmmm....” It came out more like a ‘heeeeeee’, since I was grinning with complete, albeit exhausted joy at my unstoppable eldest. 

“How ‘bout THIS one?” She came up with a snapshot from the Fernacre Halloween party this year: Jamie beaming as he held Ian securely atop Kugel, one of the newer horses. 

“Oh,” I moaned, heart squeezing as I held the photo next to the page showing Ian at four months, fuzzy-headed and drooling happily with his hands clapped together. “Bree, when did my tiny baby become a grown-up boy?” 

“He izzzz a baby, Mummy.”

“Well, yes, but....”  

But oh lord, to see his infant photos again, compared with the walking, sometimes-talking little man across the house! Where had all the baby fat gone? When had the generic softness of his features been replaced with cheekbones and Jamie’s dimpled chin?! Jesus H. Christ, it made me want to curl up and sob for days and then get down to business making another one. (Except, no, absolutely not). 

“He IS a real baby,” Brianna was saying, with a sass that spilled over into guilty-glee: “He still poopies in his pants!”

“Touché, lovey,” I giggled along with her, rifling through our pile to make sure I hadn’t missed any from Ian’s birthday. “OH! This is pure Ian, right here, don’t you think??”

This was from just last week, from the packet Jamie had picked up on his way home yesterday. No special occasion: just our sweet, sweet boy standing in the doorway to the back garden, beaming with a magnetic smile even as he shyly resisted any coaxing to come out, blanket over his shoulder and pressed comfortingly against his cheek.

Somehow, he alone had managed to miss the gene for curly hair. His was still thick, though, brown and unruly as mine, with a tendency to poke up in little cowlicks every time you turned your back (and good bloody luck to anyone that tried to come at him with a comb and triggered a caterwauling to wake the dead). His eyes—dark honey—were slanted, seeming even more so as he grinned at the camera. So like Bree and yet so much his own. 

Resemblance wasn’t the only difference between my little ones, for Ian was less tempestuous than Brianna, to say the very least. Whereas she had seemed to exit the very womb inclined to speak (or howl) her mind with a fierce, vocal confidence in herself, Ian Fraser was a more subtle charmer. He got what he wanted by lavishing snuggles and carefully-placed puppy-dog eyes on his target, speaking his few words when necessary, but usually content to wheedle in his own way, or else let Bree do the talking for him.  

His own unique spirit, I marveled, running my thumbs against the glossed edges. Bree was, in a word, intense; her brother..... what? More shy by contrast, absolutely, but I’d always hated the milquetoast connotations of that word. He wasn’t at all skittish or morose; when in his element, he could be as boisterous as she, and if he sometimes preferred to play by himself in a group of friends, it always seemed to be by choice, not exclusion. In fact, I’d observed that he even spoke more when on his own, when he was absorbed in organizing a Gathering of the cuddly toys, or making tiny stick-villages in the garden, narrating his playtime in a mixture of English, Gaelic, and (the vast majority) Toddler. It was only when someone was watching that he would flash them a sheepish grin and start keeping his thoughts to himself. 

No, see, Ian’s quieter nature bespoke something beneath it, something that always struck me as remarkably developed and complex for a child of his age. Cunning, I’d call it, or some deep, satisfied knowing—slyness, in the best way! His twinkling eyes often seemed to so, so sweetly say, ‘You can’t make me do what you want, Mummy, but I sure do enjoy watching you try!’ A strain of the MacKenzies, I thought, not for the first time. 

“Hey-Mummy?” My little Fraser had her brows scrunched up as though contemplating murder, poring over the blue album from the shelf under the coffee table. “I dinna remember this pictures.”

“Those are of you as a baby,” I grinned, “so you were too small to remember.”

“Well....then...Da! He must—!” She nodded, full of budding conviction. “He remembers a whole, whole-lot, then, cause he’s really big!”

"Ah—” My lips hurt as little fizzles escaped from between them. “You’re not wrong, smudge.” 

“Uh-huh, I know.” 

She had flipped open to the middle of the album, to a series of snowy shots taken when she was...what...sixteen months old? We had gone sledding for the first time, and Ms. Byrd had captured the fleeting joy of it so perfectly. Little Bree’s jack-o-lantern teeth bared in glee above her muffler, the point of her elf-bonnet tickling my chin. My own hat had flown off into the wind, curls a blurry cloud above us.

She turned the pages to the left, going back in time. Cackles erupted at the images from her first birthday, elbows and eyebrows deep in chocolate cake, then she straightened gravely at the evidence of some of her exuberant early steps. “Was I walkin’ as good as Ian?” she dared me. 

“Very well! Though he did start sooner.”

“Hey-Mummy?”

I inhaled through a secret, tired smile. Eighteen hundred times a day.  At least. “Yes, Bree?”

“Hey-Mummy, where’s Da?”

“Putting Ian to bed.” I glanced at my watch. “Which means you, sweet pea, need to get your pajamas on, and—”

“NO, where is he in heee-rrrrre?” She lifted the album, glaring. “Where I was the baby?”

My jaw was open as though I’d started to say something. If only I knew what it might have been. Maybe then I’d know what came next. 

“See-look,” she insisted, turning the thick pages of the other album and pointing emphatically.

Jamie, showing Ian around the house on the first day he’d come home with us . 

Ian, in my arms in the hospital bed with Jamie at my shoulder, smiling down at us with Bree on his lap.

She thunked the album down, half on top of the other, contrasting the very first family photos I possessed: just the two of us, meeting one another in the morning light of that lonely, heavenly hospital room. “Where’s the Da-ones for me, Mummy?”  

“Da…he...” 

Damn it. 

“....He wasn’t there when you were a baby.”

Brianna blinked twice, and her eyes went fierce as she cocked her head. “Wasn’t?”

“No. He wasn’t.”

“Why wasn’t he?”

“He was away at—at the war when you were born.” 

Seeing the questions stacking up behind her eyes, I tried to explain, though my blood was thudding in my ears. “You know how Miss Della’s beau Peter is a soldier? And how he has to be away in Korea? That's like where Daddy was, too. He…” My voice cracked a little. “He was away, and didn’t get to meet you until you were Ian’s age.”

“Da was-not away!” Bree insisted, though her eyes were wide, unaccustomed doubt creeping in.

“He was, though, darling,” I whispered. “You don’t remember because you were still very little when he came back.” 

I turned the pages slowly, past those scattered glimpses of our early days, when we were the Randalls, then the Beauchamps. “Da was—” Goddamn it, what was the bloody story? “—captured, and we were told he died.”

I thought she hadn’t heard me. I cleared my throat and started to repeat myself, more audibly this time, but I glanced down and my heart clenched so hard the tears broke through. For, my little warrior’s face had completely fallen to despair. “....Daddy died?”

“No! No, no, no, sweetheart, he didn’t, but he was….lost....for a long time.”

She sucked in a breath, almost a gasp, all trace of fierceness gone as she searched my face. “Was he scared?”

I could only nod, the tears stinging, squeezing the walls of my throat. “But, one day, he did come back. He found us and he got to meet you. His wee lassie. See?”

Jamie, on our second wedding day, so very thin in his suit, but glowing as he held little Bree in his arms, looking down at her with unrestrained, awestruck  tenderness.

“You made him — make him  — so happy, lovey,” I whispered, pulling her close onto my lap and against my heart as I turned the page. 

The two of them, stretched out on this very couch, both their mouths open as they slept, her cheek smushed cozily against his chest.

I pressed my own cheek against her head. “He’d loved you the whole time he was lost. Getting to finally meet you was....” I flipped over to Ian’s first photos, pointing to Jamie. “Just like how happy he was here, when he met baby Ian for the first time.”  

“Mummy....I dinna—” Her voice was choked, tears streaming as she whispered: “I dinna w-want Da to be lost when I w-was Ian.”

“Ohh, love, sweetheart, I—”

The door from the kitchen opened. “Alright, Bree, your turn for—”

“DA!”

By long instinct, he dropped to a crouch to let her run, sobbing, into his arms. “Christ, what's this, then, cub?” He rubbed her back, coaxing brightly to ease her worries, his expert skill. “Heyyy, lass, there, now.....Dinna be troubled so, wee love—tell me what’s amiss.”

She couldn’t say anything coherent at first, but at last, she choked it out. “I dinna want—y-you to b-be—lost again!”

“I’m no’ lost, Brianna,” he nearly laughed. “I’m here, see? Safe and—”

“Mu—Mummy said you were dead and l-lost when I was littlest and–I don't—dinna—w-want—you—to—ever— ”

“Och, no, lass,” he moaned at once as he pulled her tight against his chest and rose to his feet, his eyes meeting mine with an understanding that ached in us both as he saw the tracks of my own tears. “Never. Not ever.”

He swayed with her for a very long time as she sobbed into his shoulder. His eyes were closed and I could barely hear what he murmured into her hair: 

“That was the saddest time of my whole life, mo chridhe....” In Gaelic: ‘I'll never be parted from ye again...nor your mother... nor Ian…...I swear it.’

“She’s truly growing up, then,” Jamie whispered, softly rubbing Brianna’s back where she lay curled up asleep on the sofa behind us. “That she can feel things so in her heart…..” He turned from her to lean fully against the bottom cushions, resting his arms on his knees. “It makes me want to weep, Sassenach. All the sadness that awaits them in the world....That I could keep all of it at bay.”

“Will we ever tell them differently?”

His head swiveled around, surprised. “Tell them what, mo ghraidh?”

“The truth.” The word was a ball of ice in my stomach. “About....everything. The stones... How we met. Who you really are.”

“I confess....I had assumed we never would tell them.” 

“When it was only me and Bree, I had thought...well, it was a vague thought, only....but I assumed someday she would know. Now, though....it doesn’t seem as simple, somehow.” 

“Aye.” His chest rose and fell heavily as he ran a hand backward through his hair. “In truth, ‘tis indeed a weight on my heart to think that they might never know all the dear memories—only the wee fragments, disguised as they must be.”

About Lallybroch. Jenny and Ian. All their little cousins. Murtagh. Brian and Ellen. Names the children knew, but only a surface-version; a bedtime story about people in a faraway land who were now lost; no more real than any other; far less so, with no photographs or brightly-colored illustrations to prove those people had existed. 

Still more....might they never know what their father did for them at Culloden? Of the sacrifice and pain we both chose on that day? 

“But we must bear it, no?” he was saying sadly, even as a half-hope grew in his eyes. 

“How can they ever truly know us, Jamie,” I said, “understand us without knowing where we’ve been? What we’ve been through?” I thought of my own parents, shrouded in so much mystery, so much not known; unknowable, now. 

“Perhaps...when they’re older? When they might be trusted to keep such a big secret, we might tell them. Though....” he considered. “They might both be fully grown before t’would be the right time for such a—"

“And yet, that’s the other side of the coin.” I hated this; scolded myself for being the devil’s advocate of cloying gloom. “It’s like adopted children that aren’t told until adulthood. If we wait so long, won’t they resent us for keeping such a monumental thing from them? The truth of who they are and how they came to exist?” My eyes must have looked as hopeless as Bree’s. “What do you think we should we do?”

A pause, then his mouth twitched in a weak attempt at a smile. “I wish I kent the certain path, Claire. I do.” Any light in his eyes ebbed. “In truth, we rob them — and ourselves, forbye — of something dear no matter the choice, aye?”

It might have lingered, the worry. It might have been a cloud over us throughout the fallen night. Instead, our eyes met and we softened in unison. He leaned his forehead against mine, pulling me closer to kiss my cheek. Many years stood between us and that day, should it ever even come. 

I was about to rest my head on his shoulder, but a photo caught my eye, right there by my ankle. 

It was barely in focus, fully half the image a diagonal, black nothingness, a childish finger covering the lens. Still, it had been captured at precisely the right moment, before Jamie or I had had time to react. 

Both of us were in pajamas in front of the stove, my hair an absolute wreck (though, when was it not?), the cup of tea in my hand in serious danger of slopping over the side, since Jamie had me by the waist and was working to pull me close. His head was bent to my neck, his grin sweet and roguish, though his eyes were hidden. Mine were closed and my head was thrown back, as though no other damn thing in the world mattered but the moment’s silly joy. 

I cradled it between us and spoke the simplest version of the ache within me.

 “I’m so happy you’re not lost anymore.”

[mymelodyheart]

Forget Me Not Chapter 15 ~Breakfast In Bed~

It was that sort of sleep that eludes a man when the object of one's unrequited wood cannot settle in one position. Or so, Jamie thought. Thanks to Claire's alcohol overindulgence, she was having a fitful sleep, and for every restless movement she made against Jamie, his body responded swiftly and painfully. And when eventually he managed to regain his composure by focusing on thoughts that didn't involve Claire, she would wiggle her pert arse upon his throbbing cock sending his blood to run south all over again.

Giving up on sleep, he gave a sour grunt as he gingerly slid out of bed, careful not to rouse Claire. It was 4:30 in the morning and in a few hours he had to go to work. Listlessly, Jamie made his way towards the bathroom in his boxer briefs, stopping beneath the metal pull-up bar he recently installed in the doorway. With the intense need to blow off steam, he threw himself into a set of 20 pull-ups, bending his legs and lifting them back, out of deference to his height.

Thinking back to the karaoke incident, Jamie winced inwardly at his jealousy streaked behaviour towards Claire. If he was outright truthful to himself, his anger from last night stemmed more from her being ogled by the overly keen hot-blooded males in the pub than her doing things as she pleased, in defiance of him and Willie. Who could blame the men in the pub, though? She was stunningly beautiful, smart, adventurous. In spite of the vulnerabilities that lurked behind those fetching eyes, she was courageous and stubborn when face to face with adversities. She was compassionate to a fault too, and not once did she take the situation with Annalise against him, nor did she ever complain about her. Which led to the realisation that he had no right to feel the way he did when she had never consciously given him a reason to. All she ever did was blossom into a perfect flower that every man wanted to covet, including his brother.  Damn Willie!

When they were growing up, Jamie had been the centre of Claire's world, at least when she wasn't thinking of or talking about Frank. They were both thick as thieves, and he had her all to himself without the fear someone might take her away from him. He had often secretly revelled in the fact that Frank didn't reciprocate Claire's romantic feelings and that none of the boys from the school had paid her attention. But now the tables were turned.

Even though Jamie had been popular in school and girls gravitated towards him like moths to a flame, he had only eyes for Claire. Her interest in Frank was the only reason he never professed his love for her and had fervently hoped that one day her feelings towards him would be more than brotherly. And what had he done to inspire a change of heart from Claire? Instead of waiting for her, Jamie had thrown himself into meaningless relationships, a tiny part of him hoping she would be jealous enough to kick up a fuss. Well, it turned out the joke was on him when Frank suddenly started paying attention, and that Claire had been thrilled about it, didn't sit well in his guts.

The fact that she was still young, and had just started to come into her own in leaps and bounds, made Jamie wonder if he would be enough for her. He loved the Highlands, and she, traipsing around the world, just like his brother. The only thing keeping her in Scotland was her promise to work for the Fraser Manor Inn after she was done with her studies. At least for a while. How long before she becomes restless and starts yearning for adventures? Could she see him as her husband in the future, or does the endless possibilities beyond Scotland, would have her wanting more? 

He wanted her to thrive and be confident in herself, and to pursue whatever dreams she had her sights on. And he could only hope that he was part of those dreams. It was often said first loves tend not to be the last and  damn it , he wanted to be her last and forever. And he understood that their present relationship was no guarantee her love for him was for keeps. Especially not when better men than him like Willie, having secretly set their sights on her. The very idea made him crazy.

Get a grip man, you have her now, don't you?

Jamie realised he had gone well passed his set of 20 pull-ups and let go of the bar. Sides heaving, he dropped forward and rested both hands on his knees. To his dismay, all his thinking about Claire only intensified his need for her. Feeling annoyed, he headed for the shower hoping the cold spray he was about to inflict upon himself would assuage his exigent member.

Although the icy cold water helped, the relief didn't last long. It was still dark outside, and Jamie had planned to catch some sleep for at least an hour. But as he re-entered the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his hips, his weary eyes landed on Claire's naked body. Her creamy white skin looked like silk against the glow of the warm light coming from the bedside lamp. The duvet had been haphazardly pushed aside, and she had her back to him, revealing her soft curves and the swell of her buttocks. As if hypnotised, he let the towel fall to the floor and moved forward to her sleeping form, consuming her with hungry eyes.

Dropping onto the bed next to her, he couldn't resist trailing his fingers over her hips and cupping her backside. He bit his lip in pleasure as the skin quivered under his hand, drawing out a soft sigh from her lips.  Perfect and gorgeous in every way.  With his pulse racing, he rested his head against hers, burying his nose in her sunshine scented curls.

Claire stirred and turned on her back to look at him. "Jamie?"

He looked down at her and groaned. Innocent curiosity was written all over her expression. This lass, who had consumed his mind and his heart almost all his life, had given him so much. He wanted to give her so much more. His desperation must have been apparent on his face because her eyes were suddenly wide as saucers.

Her gaze dropped to their close naked bodies when he pressed his straining erection against her hip, her face reddening at the realisation. The drunken bravado from the night before was gone and dissipated. She reached for the duvet to cover herself, but Jamie grabbed her wrist to prevent her and shook his head. It amazed him that she could still blush at the sight of their unclothed bodies together.

"Jamie, what do you need?" she whispered hoarsely, one hand reaching to touch his face.

Christ, how could she look adorable and sexy at the same time?  His throat constricted when he tried to smile, one finger tracing the contour of her mouth. "Let me love ye, Sassenach. Be mine as I am yours." Then his finger travelled very slowly, further down, between her breasts, before his hand skimmed over her belly to cup her heat in his palm. "When ye go to work later, I want ye to know what my love feels like all day. Tell me ye're mine," he murmured, lowering his head to catch a nipple between his teeth. His tongue swirled and sucked the peak into his mouth, before trailing across to her other breast, to gently bite the underside.

"Oh, G-God, Jamie!" she gasped, hands running through his hair and down his tensed shoulder.

His mouth progressed to her exposed throat, licking and nibbling the smooth skin, as he relished the sounds she made. Shifting his position, he tilted his head to brush his lips against hers. "I need reminding, Claire. I haven't touched ye since I left for France and I plan to make up for that now. Tell me ye're mine and that ye want me; otherwise, I'll stop." He circled her sweet spot with his middle finger, watching as she tossed her head back with abandonment. The sight made his jaw go rigid as some chemical was released in his brain, heightening his senses. "Tell me now. I need to hear it." Before she could respond, he sunk two fingers inside her, making her whimper. The moisture and heat between her legs sent his head spiralling out of control.  She needs me. She wants me.

Looking like she's completely robbed of her senses and oblivious to anything but the feel of him, Claire could only make unintelligible sounds as Jamie brought his weight down on hers. He marvelled at the sight of her.  So beautiful, my lass. My lass. Mine!  Bringing his mouth down for a hungry kiss, his tongue mated with hers as his knees gently parted her thighs. When they finally came up for air, his lips travelled down over her neck and cleavage, leaving a trail of dampness on her skin as his mouth floated further down and down. He could feel the sting on his back where Claire had clawed him, sending a ripple of satisfaction surging through him. 

He was torn aching to plunge into her and needing to talk. Or hold her against him and simply be. Doing all those things at the same time seemed like too much like it would rip him apart. So he continued to run his hand over her roughly and breathed.

Delving between her legs, he fastened his mouth to the core of her need. He sucked while she went wild underneath him, writhing with such ferocity that he had to grind his cock against the mattress repressing the urge to dive into her. Her sobs registered only dimly, the taste of her so intoxicating, so sweet, it pulled him into a state of single-mindedness.  Brand her. Make her forever yours . Jamie lost himself as he licked the folds between his thighs, his tongue pushing inside while his fingers rubbed her sensitive nub. Claire's fingers ripped at his hair and dug into his back as her body spasmed into climax, her legs quivering against his head. His desire to make her come more was interspersed with her plea, her voice breaking through his lustful fog, making him conscious to her needs.

"Oh, Christ, Jamie, please, I need you inside me. I want you. I need you. I love you," she cried, her hands tugging at his hair.

Kissing her sensitive core for the final time, he reached for the condom on the bedside table. There wasn't an ounce of finesse left inside him as he climbed over her squirming body and shoved her legs even wider while rolling the protective latex over his aching length. 

With a single thrust of his hips, he immersed himself deep inside her, swallowing her scream with an urgent kiss. "Ssshh, Sassenach," he breathed against her parted lips. "Ye're so beautiful, my heart breaks a little every time I look at ye. I love yer eyes..." He leaned down to kiss her eyelids, swallowing expletive as she arched her back. "This mouth ... this nose ... this heart. All that ye are is all that I will ever need. I wish ye could feel what happens inside me whenever I look at ye." His whole body shook as he withdrew his cock and then sunk into her heat again. "Take me, Sassenach, all of me. Put yer hands all over me. I want to feel all of ye."

When her hands stroked down his back, moist golden eyes looking at him with so much tenderness, he made a strangled noise. 

"I don't want your heart to break, Jamie. You know I'm yours. Please...now." The simple command choked off his oxygen, relinquishing whatever was left of his self-restraint. 

Bracing his elbows on both sides of her, he rocked his hips between her legs, moving his length in rhythmic waves. When Claire's eyes became unfocused with desire, he pressed their foreheads together and willed her to look at him. And when she did, the connection he felt for her as he stared into her eyes made him feel raw and exposed. It was what he wanted. He wanted her to see all of him.

"Ye're mine, Sassenach, remember that. Always." He drove into her setting a faster pace, her legs wrapping around him as her inner walls gripped at his cock. She made mewling sounds at the back of her throat, her face a beautiful picture of pain and pleasure. He rammed into her harder, thrusting in and out with abandon as she wildly bucked beneath him. "Oh, God, so beautiful... so good."

His own climax was looming as she began to convulse in her release and her legs contract in its vice-like grip around his waist. He watched her come apart, his heart hammering painfully and overflowing with love. The sight of her shaking, the feel of her made it impossible to hold back any longer. With a final thrust, he crashed into her with a groan, coming with so much intensity, his vision faltered. Wanting to extract every last ounce of their lovemaking, he brought their lips together and kissed her as they gradually recovered from their high. There was a need inside Jamie to prolong the moment, to hold time at bay, and their kisses succeeded in doing that. At least for a little while, until the sun began to peek through the window.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

A Hero Among Us-Final Chapter

Previous chapters on AO3           A special thanks to @statell​ for all your help

Chapter Eighteen

Jamie entered the house dripping from his bath in the lake and grabbed a towel on his way upstairs. He could hear Claire and Mary talking in the sitting room and hoped to catch a ten-minute nap before supper. His back and arms ached from planting fifty acres at Rupert’s vineyard on a very hot day. It was late July, after a brutal stretch of no rain followed by flooding on the valley floor. They had earned their harvest for the year and the berries grew fat and ready to burst.

Jamie worried he would not wake up for supper, but his body moved of its own accord toward the bed. He marveled at the comfort of the firm mattress and cool sheets. He smiled as his mind drifted into oblivion and his dreams came to claim him. As he always did with naps in the afternoon, he dreamed continuously.

“The Sheriff thinks it was a gang passing through, lookin for someone to rob because they ran out of money. They were askin about the productive vineyards at the saloon, like they were lookin for work. Only had a hand full of farmers that had grapes to sell and ours is by far the finest property, so it wasn’t hard to figure out. Sheriff suspects the two men sent earlier in the week intended to rob us right here in the house. The gang got much bolder when we killed their men. It’s alright Sassenach, it’s definitely over, no one will be comin to settle a score.”

In his dream he looked down at the face he loved before blackness and peace settled over his mind.

“Jamie? Jamie! You two fell asleep on the swing and you were both lost to your dreams,” she giggled. Let me take her before my breasts pop.” He heard the baby cry about losing her heat source until Claire sat down on the swing and offered her a comforting nipple. Jamie was slipping in and out of the scene in his dream. He reached out for the baby’s cheek and saw a dark purple grape in his hand. He was offering it to Faith, who was in his arms in the middle of the vineyard. She was a few months older and she made a face at the sour-tasting fruit. Jaime kissed her cheek and laughed at his funny baby girl. “It’s time to go home sweetheart, yer mam will be lookin for ye.”

Jamie turned around and the vineyard morphed into the kitchen with Misses Crook right in front of him. He was feeling weird about what he had to ask her. She looked up from her task and waited for him to spit it out.

“Ah…Misses Crook…what do ye make of my stomach ailment then?”

“Leave it be laddie, ye dinna want to ken what I think.”

“I saw ye count when ye dropped to the ground to help me, before we found Claire. What were ye countin for?”

Misses Crook regarded Jamie with a keen eye and decided he might as well know what she thought.

“Claire was unconscious when ye found her in the shed, so she wasna havin contractions for a time, ye ken? As soon as ye got some water down her throat her pains started again and yer’s stopped. I think by some miracle, you took over for her so she could rest and stall the birth until we found her.”

Misses Crook looked up at Jamie, blushing about her wild theory. “That is what it looked like Mister Fraser and I ken it’s not possible, but I’ll thank ye anyway, for takin on the pain.”

Jamie opened his mouth to insist she was wrong and felt his lover’s tongue in his mouth and a throbbing erection like a club between his legs. He wanted to devour her after waiting so long for her body to heal. He pulled away, breathing deeply and shaking his head. He had to slow down before he hurt her.

“Jamie darling, I cannot wait any longer.” Claire was flushed and panting, pulling his hand to her core and pushing his fingers into her warm, wet body. She arched her back when he moved his fingers inside of her and he watched with rapt attention.

“My Sassenach, I love ye so much, I dinna want to hurt ye.”

Claire climbed on top of him and pulled him to her, easing down on him slowly, letting her body open to him. It took a few minutes until her arousal demanded his immediate attention and Jamie stared at her like she was a goddess.

The dream faded into darkness and peace.

Jamie felt the saddle under him and saw Ben ahead, riding hard. They were searching for the native vineyards that were selling grapevines.

“Two more Jamie and we can head for home!”

They slept under the stars the night before and he was anxious to get home to Claire. He just wanted this trip to be over. Ben looked back at his face and slowed his horse to a trot until Jamie caught up.

“Listen, Jamie, I just don’t have it in me anymore. This much time in the saddle is too hard for an old man. Let’s head home after we visit this vineyard. We’ll be home late tonight. Okay?”

Jamie felt the freezing water around his feet and sucked in a breath. There was soap in his hand, and he bathed quickly, anxious to hold Claire and check on his baby daughter and Fergus.

“Jamie, darling,” he looked around for her and tried to answer but no sound came out.

Pulling a towel around his frozen body he climbed the stairs. “Jamie, darling.”

“Yes?” He could not make any sound come out of his mouth, but he heard Claire calling to him from somewhere and wanted to tell her he was home.

“Jamie?” He felt her arms reach under him as she kissed his neck.

“I’m here Sassenach.”

Jamie forced his eyes to open, feeling disoriented, and reaching for his wife.

“Sassenach.”

He clutched her to him, struggling to wake up from his exhaustion.

“You poor, sweet, exhausted man. I’m so sorry but we have a dinner party this evening so you must get up.”

Claire watched Jamie struggle to wake up, slipping back to sleep and then jerking his head up to look for her. Sleep was winning so she tried to help him.

“You know, when I came in here to wake you, I pulled the covers away so I could look at you. I’m sorry, I could not resist because it is seldom I can stare at you for as long as I want.” Claire looked coyly at her husband. “Maybe I took it too far because I touched your warm skin,” she ran her hand lightly across his stomach. “I want you now, so much I put my face very close to you,” breathing hard, Claire dropped her mouth within an inch of his cock so he could feel her breath on his skin. “But we must dress for dinner so it will have to wait sweetheart.” She kissed him deeply and noticed he was fully awake now. “Can we come back to this later, outside, under the stars?”

Jamie was pulling her close as she was pulling away from him.

“In one minute, Misses Crook will come barreling through that door to dress my hair,” she whispered. Blankets and sheets were flying as Jamie bounded out of bed and pulled his pants and shirt on.

“Yes…ah, yes Sassenach, it’s a date.” Jamie shook his head “What is the occasion for the party again?”

“We have so much to celebrate, it’s hard to list everything. It is the pre-harvest, the birth of your darling daughter, Mary is with child, Ben’s birthday, Mcreaty’s marriage, planting the new, sorry, old vineyard. Shall I go on darling?”

“No, I think I have it now Sassenach.”

Jamie’s nose suddenly pulled him in the direction of the roasting pig and turkeys outside and his stomach gripped him and rumbled. He was feeling almost faint with hunger when he heard his wee daughter cry out from her nap. Hunger forgotten, he ran to the nursery to rescue her from her crib. He lifted her high above his head and gently lowered her to his face for kisses. Faith was so enamored with Jamie she cooed and smiled as she ran through the sounds she could make while giggling at her father’s antics. Claire smiled at the duo as they came back into the bedroom. Her heart melted, as it always did, the way they looked at each other. Jamie laid next to Faith on the bed and responded to Faith’s gibberish like he understood her. Misses Crook laughed at the two of them as she brushed Claire’s hair.

“Milord, must I wear the clothes I hate, to the party tonight?”

Jamie lifted his head to look at Fergus and felt the room was getting rather crowded.

“Yes.”

“But why, milord?”

“Ye like the lass’s, aye?”

“Yes, milord!”

“Lots of lass’s here tonight and they dinna like scruffy clothing on a lad, so ye dress up to impress them.”

“I don’t actually like them that much, so can I…”

“No, wear what Misses Crook tells ye to or spend the evening in your room where no one can see ye.”

“Yes, milord,” was drawn out and plaintive as the boy left to dress.

Jamie went back to nuzzling Faith making her erupt in giggles followed by giggles from the women. Jamie placed Faith in her mother’s arms to fill her empty tummy before disappearing to the outside to check on the men. All of them were sunburned from three days of planting in the sun. They looked healthy and happy waiting for the women to arrive.

Jamie made his way to the barn to feed the horses. He stroked the silver stallion and then the mare and her foal who was occupying her own stall, fully weaned from her mother. Jamie brushed them while they gorged on their meal. Deep in his thoughts, he heard a whiny outside the barn and realized the guests were arriving before he cleaned up. He closed the stall door and dashed for the barn door running smack into a large creature like a solid brick wall. It knocked him down and the view from the ground was both terrifying and thrilling. An eighteen-hand horse, built like a stone barn, and known for an attitude of the equine criminally insane, stood over Jamie as he counted the minutes left in his life.

Jamie stood and smiled at his old friend, offering the treats that remained in his pocket. Donus dropped his head and let Jamie scratch and stroke him. His weight was the same as when he was fed twice a day, so he had not suffered on his own in the wilderness. His eyes followed Jamie’s every move.

“Thank ye for the visit Donus. I have worrit after ye and I see it was for naught.” He smiled and hugged the monster horse noticing he did not flinch or try to bite. That was unexpected. When Jamie turned to walk back to the house Donus followed on his heels, so close he could hear him breathing. Jamie turned around and looked in his eyes.

“What is it you want Donus? How can I help ye?”

Jamie walked backward toward the house and Donus kept his head inches from Jamie as he followed.

“Are ye wantin a rest for the evening then? Alright, it is my pleasure, aye?”

Jamie walked back to the barn and led Donus into the last remaining stall.

“I’m lockin ye in until after the party, then I’ll leave yer door open so ye can leave when yer ready.”

Donus dug into the meal Jamie provided, allowing his true master to return to the house to dress.

Claire greeted guests as they came, offering refreshments and bales of hay to sit on. The Highlanders paced and watched the newly repaired road for the lassies that would set their hearts to ramming all night. Claire was delighted that the more refined guests, like Mary, her parents, and Lester from the bank, seemed to find their comfort outside sitting on hay and enjoying the festive atmosphere. When the ladies started to arrive, Claire had never seen everyone so happy as they filled their plates with a variety of dishes from Cho’s garden, and roasted meats and fish from the men. She noticed Rupert jumping to fetch whatever was needed by sweet Mary or her parents. He was a wonderful husband.

Fergus pulled on Claire’s sleeve, “Faith is awake milady.” Claire held his cheek and kissed the other, thanking him for looking after her. When Faith was brought outside with a full belly she smiled and babbled at everyone, until she saw Jamie. Her feet found Claire’s lap and the baby stood up with straight legs and yelled at her father.

“Da da da da da. Da!” Her little hand was extended toward her Da as he swiftly pulled her into his arms and kissed her until she erupted in giggles. Jamie pulled her sleeves up to her elbows and sat her on his lap before offering her a bone to gnaw on. Faith dove into the bone like a rabid baby making the guests laugh. Claire watched the two, so in tune with each other and so funny. She would never have thought to offer her daughter a meaty bone at this age, but Faith clearly loved it.

Fergus was sitting next to Claire shoving food into his mouth as fast as possible when his head popped up and he listened for a moment. Somehow, over the noise of almost fifty people laughing and talking, he heard a familiar sound. With his plate forgotten he made his way to the barn and peeked in feeling his heart rate shoot up, and a smile spread across his face. He went to the horse and hugged him, telling every single incident that happened since he saw him last. Donus rubbed on the boy looking equally happy.

Jamie leaned against the open door of the barn and watched Fergus’s delight at seeing Donus again. Faith started babbling and holding her hand out to the huge black horse so Jamie walked her closer and watched Donus press his muzzle into her hand, gently, like she might break with too much pressure. Jamie was beaming at Donus, his daughter, and Fergus.

“Until later my friend when I let you out to your life in the trees.”

Fergus pressed his face into Donus’s neck and felt the change in him. “Why don’t you stay and be milord’s horse?” He kissed his nose and ran back to the house.

When the party was over and all the guests had gone home, full and happy, Claire climbed the stairs almost shaking with anticipation. Jamie came in from the porch where he set three low lamps and candles next to the outside bed. He looked at Claire with lusty eyes that made her squirm.

“I told Misses Crook I would not need her help tonight so she could attend to Faith,” her voice quivered, setting Jamie’s arousal on fire. “Now it seems I require assistance,” she tried to smile and breathe but only managed a deep blush.

Jamie guided her to her vanity where he pulled the pins from her hair slowly, pulling his fingers through each section he released. He pulled the brush through her hair and noticed she was staring at him with dark eyes that demanded attention. Jamie reached for her buttons, intent on the slow strip to heighten her need. Pulling her arm toward him, the buttons of her jacket were twisted open as she watched his fingers and squirmed. Jamie’s head shot up and he dropped her arm quite unexpectedly, apologizing that he forgot something before running out of the room.

Jamie ran to the barn and burst in surprising the silver horses who vocalized their discontent. He investigated Donus’s stall where a large black horse was snoring in his bedding, dead to the world. Jamie smiled at seeing him lay down for the first time. He opened his stall door quietly and wished his friend well before running full speed back to Claire.

She sat on her vanity chair, back straight, smiling like her breeding demanded and stood to offer her back when Jamie came rushing into the room. His fingers slipped into the laces, releasing her to breathe deeply. She pressed her back against him and sighed with relief as his hands came around to release her shift.

With his mouth to her ear, he told her a story about a princess that fell from her saddle when the evil men scared her horse. As the story continued, he ran his hands over her body, caressing her breasts and holding her to him. Claire was lost in their story feeling her arousal threaten to break her barriers and devour this man. Jamie walked her, naked, outside to the porch and pressed her into the mattress. When he continued the story, it became decidedly erotic and every sentence was punctuated with his tongue touching her somewhere she loved. Claire’s first release was not for the faint of heart and Jamie smiled at her inhibition and wanton cries for more. She was hungry and demanding, biting his lower lip and jaw, neck and nipples, pulling groans from deep within him. As the night wore on, they lost themselves in a stratosphere reserved for strong bodies that can survive the climb and the euphoric fall back to earth.

“Open yerself lass, let me in.”

Claire opened her legs wide and held herself open knowing it would steal Jamie’s sanity and restraint. He pulled her pelvis up and pounded into her, losing himself to his roaring need, knowing she found her own intense pleasure from his onslaught. When he felt her inner muscles tighten around him, he kissed her deeply and they shared an earth-shattering orgasm…quietly.

Jamie collapsed next to his steaming wife and panted as if to save his life. His hands gripped Claire until he could move and think again, then he pulled her close and buried his face into her hair. The night had been exquisite, and they would remember it until their last day.

“Jesus! Is that light from the sunrise, Jamie? I think I’ve kept you up all night, I’m so sorry.”

“Dinna fash Sassenach. Those lazy grapes will take another week to ripen. We have plenty of time to sleep.”

He growled into his wife’s hair and plotted to lure her back for a second helping, after morning chores which were less than an hour away.

Jamie stumbled out to the equipment barn and stood holding the hydrometer in the air, sound asleep. Fergus came in with a bright smile and abundant energy, bursting to tell Jamie Donus was still in his stall. He approached his master, wondering why he was inspecting the glass hydrometer when he heard a deep snore. Fergus rolled his eyes and pulled the huge man toward the door.

Come, milord, I have fed the horses and Donus did not leave so I fed him too. He looked up, expecting Jamie’s outburst of happiness but there was only silence, followed by another snore. Fergus exhaled loudly, shook his head, and kept pulling.

Jamie was waking up from the walk, but Fergus continued to push him to the white grapes on the valley floor. He pulled grapes as he pushed milord along and stopped to test the first bunch. Jamie fell forward and face planted the dirt while Fergus’s eyes went wide, and his face drained of color.

Fergus yelled for Jamie as he ran for the bell. His legs burned as he approached the cabins and he reached for the bell yanking it with all his strength. When the cabin doors flew open Fergus ran back to Jamie who was still unconscious with exhaustion.

Jamie lifted his head, spitting dirt out of his mouth and struggled to get off the ground. He was so relieved to stagger back to his bed but when he turned back to the house, thirty-five Highlanders were rushing him with their hook tools and bags, followed by thirty Chinese men. Jamie’s mouth fell open as he looked to heaven.

“Why today?”

It seemed like mere minutes before he heard the call for containers as the men ran back with their bags full. Jamie looked around trying to rally when an electric current went up his spine to inform the brain it was time move, NOW! Jamie ran top speed into the vines, bouncing three holding containers behind him. The race to pull the clusters had begun.

Ben’s laugh and barking orders to the men pulled Claire out of her sleep. She stretched languidly with a smile on her face, remembering the intensity of the night before. She was hot with all the blankets and started to kick the quilt off when her eyes slammed open with a gasp. She was on the porch bed with men yelling fifteen feet below her, and she was very naked. She sat up quickly and almost came eye to eye with the men below. Slamming her body back to the sheets she looked around for the best escape back into their bedroom. With no other option, she rolled onto the ground keeping her body against the boards of the porch floor, and kicking the door closed quickly once she was inside.

“Jesus Christ, that was close.”

Hearing Misses Crook with a crying baby at her door she dove for her robe and was flush and panting when they came into her bedroom. Claire reached for Faith as Misses Crook took notice of the late hour and Claire’s frantic demeanor. When the door closed again, Claire sat in the rocking chair and breathed a sigh of relief she wasn’t caught outside in her birthday suit. Faith pulled her hair into her fat fists and smiled up at her mother as she gulped her breakfast. It was the sweet reunion with the child she loved so dearly that brought her heart rate down and pulled her into the morning serenity.

Claire ran her fingers through the soft copper curls and smiled into large blue eyes. This tiny human took her breath away and her eyes burned with tears. Faith let go of her nipple and stared at her mother, concern washing over her face as she reached for Claire’s eyes.

“Happy tears my little darling.” She patted the baby’s back waiting for a burp. Faith was not satisfied and turned her head touching Claire’s cheek. Her mother’s smile was all she needed and pulled Claire’s hair into her fist brushing it back and forth under her nose while she nursed and fell asleep.

Dressed in her riding pants, boots, and hair pulled under her hat, Misses Crook rolled her eyes as Claire handed the baby back and slid down the banister to join the men outside. The older woman took a breath to admonish her mistress for acting like a common man, but Claire’s bright face and smile stopped her instantly. She could not ignore the obvious any longer. Claire was one hundred percent committed to this farm, the grapes, and most of all, her husband who made the sun rise in the morning and set at night. Misses Crook sighed deeply knowing Claire would never return to London and the privilege they enjoyed there. The Fraser’s were rich enough to travel the world but found their greatest joy in each other, their daughter, and living without limits in this uncivilized land.

Misses Crook looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms and knew there would be others coming, Every other year most likely. Mary would need her services, as will the mounting brides of the Highlanders. They would all depend on her to keep them safe and alive as they built strong families.

She put Faith into her crib and took stock of her life. She no longer managed the sumptuous houses of the London elite. These people lived on the edge of civility, willing to risk everything to pull a living out of the ground. They worked to exhaustion, protected each other, and loved intensely, clinging to each other when the world turned against them. Seeing her life woven into the tapestry of lives here made her take a deep breath and square her shoulders. Misses Crook closed the door quietly and made her way to the stairs. She would keep the men fed, push Claire into the shade, ease frayed nerves, and by God’s good grace a celebration would follow. She was the support at each stage, and it filled her with the deepest sense of family she had ever felt. She walked down the stairs and toward the kitchen, she had work to do.

Jamie ran toward the vines with additional containers and passed Claire running the other direction. He stopped her, both panting and covered in sweat. He held her to him and felt her heart banging in her chest.

When Jamie did not break away at a dead run, she held him close and then looked into his eyes.

“You are my hero, since the day I fell off my horse. I’ve never known a man stronger or braver than you, Jamie. I know you’re tired and hot, but we are almost done with the whites.”

“Thank you, Sassenach. He pressed into her forehead and took a deep breath before running to pull the full containers back to the house.

When the grape horses pulled the laden wagon to the road, Jamie jumped into the lake and dressed for Ben’s return from selling the fruit. Ben waved the pistol wearing men away as they followed the wagon. Security would not be needed this year, he would be fine.

As the sun set lower in the sky, Jamie paced the porch watching for Ben. He felt a terror in his gut, telling him that last year was just a huge mistake. Grapes could not command the price he got if they were the only grapes in the world. It was a belief that stayed in his head for the entire year. People would come to their senses and pay just enough to cover expenses for the year driving them into the poverty he was used to. Ben’s long absence was a harbinger of doom to their happy lives. What was taking so long?

Claire tried to coax Jamie into the house to have supper, but he could not eat with his anxious stomach, so he paced until it was dark, and the day was over. He sat hard into a chair and put his head into his hands. The sound of wheels pulling an empty cart rattled hard as it approached, and Jamie shot to his feet watching for Ben. Fergus ran to tie the grape horses and Ben patted the boy on the shoulder and tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Jamie felt the utter defeat drain his energy and resolve.

Ben stood on the porch and looked at Jamie with compassion in his eyes. “Call Claire, Jamie, I have news.”

Jamie noticed his tired face lacked the excitement of last year’s harvest and he felt repentant for pushing this kind man too far.

“Sorry about the time it took me to sell the grapes. I’m sure you were worried, but it could not be helped. You see, I was set upon by representatives of the major wineries from Napa to Sonoma as soon as I hit the road this afternoon. They wouldn’t let me pass and offered twenty percent over any price offered. It took forever to figure it all out and before I knew it, there was a bidding war and I was held captive while the crazy bastards fought among themselves. I’ve never seen anything like it and frankly, didn’t know what to do.”

Ben pulled his hat off and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair.

“I’m sorry Jamie, I couldn’t stand it any longer and stopped the fighting by doubling the highest price I heard. I figured I would start again tomorrow and avoid the ridiculous posturing of these idiots. Maybe I’m too old for this line of work.”

Jamie stared at Ben, wanting to feel compassion for his troubled afternoon but failing due to his anxious need for the price of the fruit.

“I ended up selling the entire harvest again. The buyer was from a vineyard I’m not familiar with. He offered nine hundred for every acre minus the twenty we’re keeping… and I took it.”

With his hat in hand, Ben looked at Jamie’s face trying to gauge his reaction.

Jamie grabbed Claire’s hand, feeling like a crumbling clay statue blowing into the wind. The promise of riches to see them through the rest of their lives had vanished in a matter of minutes. He started calculating the cost of the growing season, the Highlanders he would have to send back to the city, the dashed hope of replanting Rupert’s vineyard. He was reeling and wanted desperately to hold onto something stationary.

“Yep, well there is more news,” Ben said quietly. I held back twenty acres so we would have the juice to make wine this year. I figured it couldn’t hurt and I promised you that in the beginning.”

Jamie looked at Ben and saw his frayed nerves and exhaustion. “It’s fine Ben,” was all he could muster.

Ben stood up and stretched. “You need to find a bigger bank tomorrow.”

Jamie looked up sharply with a withering look toward Ben. “For nine hundred dollars I think Lester has ample room, Ben.”

“Thousand.”

“Fine, say it’s a thousand, it will still fit in Lester’s bank.”

Ben cleared his throat, “nine hundred thousand dollars, Jamie. It could have been so much more, but that would take experience that I don’t have. I’m sorry son.”

Jamie heard Claire gasp, deep and loud, the likes of which he had never heard from her. She grabbed his hand again and stared, mouth agape, at Ben.

“Jamie!”

The happy exclamation did not suit the paltry price they made for a year of work, he thought. Claire knelt between his knees so he would look at her. He watched her mouth say nine-hundred thousand dollars. That was ridiculous, and he sharpened his gaze at her, willing her to understand. She held his face and asked him to hear her.

“Do you understand, love? Ben sold the grapes, the entire vineyard for nine-hundred thousand dollars. Jamie, focus!”

It echoed in his mind coming back around over and over again, nine-hundred thousand dollars. Jamie finally heard it, such a staggering amount of money they would never see, an immense sale Ben would never arrange. Jamie wondered what kind of game this was. His sweet Sassenach would be hurt when she knew the truth of their compensation. He glared at Ben, thinking he might be daft after his afternoon in the sun. Jamie stood from his chair to pull Ben away for a serious talk when nausea and dizziness forced him back to his seat.

The cold, wet towel pressed into his forehead and Jamie opened his eyes. Claire, Ben, and Misses Crook looked down at him with concern. He blushed with embarrassment and pushed himself up in the chair feeling his head throb.

“I’m sorry, I fear I am dehydrated from a long day in the sun.”

Misses Crook pressed a lemon aid into his hand, smiling like her face would break. “It’s the least I can do for the richest man I’ve ever known.”

“Richest?”

Claire pulled Jamie to his feet and steered him to the door. “It’s been a long day for all of us and time for a rest. Ben, you look dead on your feet. Can you stay with us tonight and get some rest?”

“Thank you, Claire. The grape horses have earned a hearty meal and a rub down tonight. It got really tense on the road today. They wanted to bolt and that would have spilled your hard labor in the dirt to be trampled by a dozen horses.” Ben smiled at Claire, “I told them, steady boys, and felt them push into the yokes, but they didn’t run. Thank God.”

Claire’s hand covered her lips as she realized how close they came to losing the fruit.

“I will ride back with you Monsieur, you can rest and I will feed and rub their shoulders and back.” Fergus stood straight with an uncompromising face, “I am going back with you, I have much to thank the grape horses for.”

Jamie watched Fergus take command of his intent, letting his pride and support show on his face.

“I’m grateful to ye Fergus. Make sure Ben goes straight inside to rest.”

“Aye, milord.”

Fergus left to climb into the wagon and wait for Ben. Jamie was so proud of him and knew Ben would not last five minutes before running into his house to avoid the continuous talk from the lad.

He shook Ben’s hand and smiled, “you and the grape horses are the true heroes today. It’s time for all of us to sleep, fish, lay around, and get ready for the zinfandel harvest. A silver lining is I won’t be plagued with insomnia this year. Who cares if there’s a short harvest, right?”

Ben looked at Jamie and threw a worried look at Claire.

“Everything is perfectly fine. Jamie is due for a long rest, but we thank you Ben, for the miracle you did today.”

They all said goodnight and Claire continued to push Jamie to the stairs and up to their bedroom. She pulled his clothes off and pushed him into bed, sneaking downstairs for Misses Crook’s help with her laces, then running back to her husband. When she tried to speak of their huge gain today, Jamie looked at her with worried eyes and quietly explained that Ben got the scare of his life on the road and wasn’t thinking straight at the moment.” He spoke softly like he was guarding this secret about his best friend.

Claire stood gaping at her husband. It was time for a much needed come-to-Jesus meeting that would not end until he let go of his fear and started to listen.

Misses Crook felt deep concern for Jamie as his brain did not seem to be processing information now. She turned the lamps off as she made her way to her bedroom. When she reached the second floor, she heard the statement that set the world right again.

“Jesus Christ Claire, nine-hundred-thousand dollars!”

His booming voice shook the rafters, and the crib, as Faith was yanked out of sleep and started screaming for comfort. Misses Crook chuckled and pulled the infant to her with an exchange into her father’s arms.

Jamie held his daughter until Claire was ready to feed her. Her fist was so firmly stuck into her mouth it took Claire several minutes of soft talking to pull it out so she could fill her stomach with warm milk.

Jamie knelt on the floor at Claire’s feet, overwhelmed at being rich beyond his imagination. He laid his head on Claire’s lap and she stroked his hair as she fed the baby.

“You are the master of all you survey Jamie, forevermore, and no one is more deserving love.”

Jamie raised his head, eyes shiny from tears, “I must teach them, all of them, how to graft. We will restore the health of all the vineyards and donate third-year vines so they will survive waiting for the plants to produce fruit. We have to do this Sassenach.”

Claire looked at her incredible husband and smiled, “and you will, love.”

Jamie laid back with a warm sleeping baby on his naked chest. Claire knew he was exhausted and brushed the curls off his face with cool hands.

“Why did you push so hard to plant the fifty acres at Rupert’s? I ask because I want to understand more about what we do. Three days of scorching heat, digging into the hard ground with nearly all the men?”

“When we made the purchase, I didna expect them so soon, they were still in the ground, ye ken?” The vines won’t survive very long outside of the dirt, they had to be planted. I didna expect the ground to be so hard we couldna get a pick through it but It had to be done. I didna expect those lazy grapes on our shore to suddenly decide they were ready, right on the heels of those scorching three days and a long night of love with my lady.”

Jamie looked up at the Sassenach, still running her fingers through his hair. “Since we wed, there have been five nights that will be in my memory forever, last night is one of them. I kent it the moment we touched and would have bartered with the devil to see it through.”

Claire looked at him and blushed. “I am afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’ll wager ye do, lass. Close your eyes and try to remember those five nights.”

Claire did as he asked, touching her fingers as she landed on each memory. She held her third finger for several minutes and smiled wide when she touched the fourth and fifth finger. Jamie watched as her awareness lit her from the inside. Her face became soft and serene in the memory and her eyes sparkled when she opened them.

“Yes. I remember five nights, that took us somewhere incredible, and changed us, I think. Did you say you can feel it ahead of time?”

“Aye, when we first touch, lass. Last night I kent I would dwell where your soul resides. It is beautiful, like ye, pure white, so lovely. I felt ye touch me and I was humbled, on my knees, at yer feet.”

Claire watched Jamie’s face, smiling, explaining a place so remarkable, so extraordinary.

“Will I ever see it like you do?”

“I ken ye will Sassenach.”

Claire bundled Faith in her blanket for the cold walk to the nursery finding the ever-watchful, Misses Crook, waiting for them. Faith never woke up and Claire returned to their bed and snuggled next to Jamie in the dark.

“Can you tell me more?”

“I dinna ken where the dimples come from, but his dark curly hair and golden-brown eyes are given by his mam. He’s a braw lad Sassenach.”

“What?”

Jamie held her close and said goodnight, counting the minutes until the Sassenach erupted from the blankets. If she didn’t understand, she soon would when her breasts became tender and her waistline thickened. His exhaustion pulled him to surrender, just as delicate limbs kicked off the quilt and the bed bounced with her efforts to sit up.

“What? Jamie!”

Claire lunged for the lamp on her side table with far too much momentum that tumbled her over the side. Jamie turned the lamp up and looked over the edge at his stunned wife. He held a hand out and pulled her back to his side.

“Did you say…do you think…is this already…how do you…you said a lad…how could you?”

He stopped his stammering love, announcing he did not say a lad, making Claire confused like she misheard everything.

Jamie turned the lamp down and spooned his wife.

“I said, a braw lad, Sassenach.”

Jamie felt Claire counting her fingers, calculating when her second child would arrive, and he smiled in the dark. He had learned far more in that special moment of contact. Like instant knowledge, he saw the catastrophic collapse of the grape market when the European wine industry pushed back with a slanderous campaign to win their market share back. Jamie had heard rumblings of this several years ago, but it stopped when the blight ravaged the region. The Europeans pulled back to wait out the death of their competitors.

He would restore as many of the vineyards as possible and teach the grafting technique which would flood the market with California wines in three years. The European wine industry would wage war on California like a giant bully beating up a wee bairn, creating a glut of fruit that couldn’t be sold.

During the long hot day, Jamie pondered what the future held for California and decided it was something to be missed. Whatever the gain from this year’s harvest, he was taking his family to Scotland, to start over. The properties would be split between Rupert and Angus to profit as they will. His heart rate soared knowing they will see Lallybroch soon and his son would be born in his homeland.

What Jamie did not know was in 1889, California wines would win twenty-four out of thirty medals at the World’s Fair in Paris, and the region will revive like a Phoenix from the ashes.

He did not know they would return to California in 1905 where the four children would thrive and grow strong, learning from the vines, to the delight of their parents. Fergus, Thomas and Gordie will walk in Jamie’s footsteps and take their place in the wine industry.

Jamie would become a master vintner under Ben’s guidance, fermenting gallons of juice to be aged in French oak barrels that accumulate into the hundreds.

Faith will attach herself to Jamie and Ben learning the importance of tannic acid, aerobic and anaerobic fermentation, and temperature manipulation of the yeast. Her interest in chemistry will ignite, eventually taking her away to study in England.

The region would find a modicum of stability after the turn of the century bringing fresh immigrants to spin the wheel of fortune in the California grape business. New wineries spring up and the fiesta returns to celebrate the harvest. A large wood sign will be created to hang at the end of their road to be seen by all. Welcome to the Highland Brother’s Winery.

Jamie could not know that in January of 1920, prohibition would lay waste to the region and only a handful of vineyards remain. The legal sale of grapes and juice keep the growers from starving to death, barely. Most of the Highlanders return to Scotland, including Rupert’s family. Angus will move into the house on the other shore and live as a devout bachelor until a pretty widow bats her eyes at him and his heart pops out of his chest. Lost forever. Jamie and Angus continue growing grapes to be sold as juice, hoping for a repeal of the eighteenth amendment that will take thirteen years.

Jamie could not know all of these things as he cuddled his Sassenach, a very tired and very wealthy young man of twenty-eight. He could not see the troubled years ahead or how his fortune will save countless families from ruin, as he tries to breathe life back into the land he loves. He could not see Ben hand him a gift, a wine brick, in the darkest days of prohibition, and the last time he would see him alive. It will be his second and greatest fortune, this final gift from his beloved mentor.

But that is another story…

The end.

Notes:

According to Wikipedia, the equivalent of $900,000.00 in 1883 is equal to $22,931,821.78… in other words, a wee bit shy of twenty-three million dollars.

I have mad love for the readers who keep me going with their enthusiasm and comments. Feeling creative and appreciated is such an extraordinary experience and I thank you all.

[owlish-peacock36]

Never Doubt I Love: Part 7

Whew. This one took forever to get right... Enjoy

Warning: NSFW! J/J/C! Threesome!

John found himself in a field. More of a meadow, really, with bright wildflowers and a wall of trees along the perimeter. The air was pleasantly brisk, and the sun warmed the bite of the wind.

Taking stock of his body, he found himself completely unclothed. Despite his modest nature, this fact didn’t bother him. Quite contrary, he languished in it, stretching his stiff bones against the prickles of the grass.

Gentle caresses tickled his bare skin, the delicate wings of dragonflies beating upon him. He watched them, multicolored and graceful as they descended down his body. First his lips, then his chest, then his stomach… Slowly dipping in pleasurable waves.

The swarm metamorphosed, clinging together as they transitioned: A fox took their place, unusually large and glistening crimson.

I’m dreaming, he thought as the world around him became less real. The trees were too large, too green. The sky was midnight, but bright light still glowed.

Garnering his attention, the beast rested his head upon John’s navel, peering at him with almond eyes. He opened his jaw, flashing rows of perfect fangs. But, no growl or hiss exited the creature’s mouth. Instead, a voice rumbled through him, deep and warmly familiar.

“Will ye no wake?”

The vibrations from the beast’s throat shook John’s body, and his eyes shot open toward the streaming sunlight.

A dream…

Not completely, though, as his fox companion had turned into another red-haired creature gently kissing his stomach.

“G’mornin’.”

John’s eyes flitted around the room. The Fraser’s bedroom. And he was tangled in the Fraser’s sheets, with Jamie Fraser himself upon him.

He mentally crossed himself, and thanked whatever deity had led him to this moment.

John threaded his fingers through Jamie’s curls, enjoying their soft, springy texture. With that encouragement, the redhead kissed his way up the blond’s body until their noses touched. John could feel every line of Jamie as he rested against him. Strong and solid and undoubtedly ready...

“Good morning to you, as well.”

The two men smiled at each other, lips stretched as they kissed. John reached his hand to the right, searching, but found the bed empty.

“Where’s Claire?”

“She’ll be downstairs, making breakfast. She woke early, and decided we could all use a hearty meal… Canna fault her observations.”

“Should we go help?”

“Nay. She told me we have to stay here. Ordered me really. I’m no help in the kitchen. I suppose it’s good one of us kens how to make a meal.”

Us. The three of them. That simple word brought about flitters in his stomach, and a heavy beat in his heart.

Us.

“Besides,” Jamie interrupted John’s thoughts. “I had other plans for this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Aye…”

Warm mouth and soft curls tickled John’s torso as his companion slowly descended his body.

“Jamie…?”

“Shh…” His breath blew the hair around John’s navel, causing him to twitch at the sensitivity. But such movements did not stop Jamie, as he ventured lower, lower…

He was engulfed by warmth, the dampness of Jamie’s mouth sending shockwaves through his spine. Threading his hands through amber curls, John arched up, straining for friction. For release. Jamie’s tongue swirled around John’s cock, and his length twitched with every lick and bob. Jamie sucked hard on the tip, his lips puckering. A moan rose from John’s chest, threatening to tear him apart. Jamie mirrored the sound, causing pleasurable vibrations to fill John’s body from tip to temple.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last.

Fingers joined mouth in a dangerous dance. One hand pumped him slowly, while the tongue continued its pattern along his length. Up. Down. Up. Down. Suck. Lick.

“Ye taste so good.”

John felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He needed more. Now.

“Faster.”

He felt rather than heard Jamie’s chuckle. “O’ course.”

His efforts doubled. One arm braced John’s hips against the bed, holding him in place. The other continued stroking John.

“Look at me.”

He couldn’t. Couldn’t open his eyes, so overwhelmed with sensation as he was. But that would not do for Jamie.

“Look at me!”

John’s eyes flew open at the roughness in his voice, and stared into the icy eyes at his hip. Slowly—so slowly—Jamie lowered his mouth once more upon him.

It was too much—tongue, fingers, eyes—and John strained against the hand at his waist. His peak came, hard and loud and quick, finishing in Jamie’s throat. He swallowed quickly before stretching himself next to his satisfied companion.

Fingers trailed over John’s chest as his heart regulated itself.

“Good morning to ye,” the redhead teased.

John gasped for air before responding. “Yes. Indeed.”

***

The door creaked open as the two men lounged nude on the bed. Claire entered, her hair extra disbelieved, and a translucent dressing gown sashed around her waist. In her arms she held a tray—breakfast. Bannocks and honey, ham, eggs, potatoes…

She noticed the two relaxing, and a grin spread across her face.

“Well, don’t you two look like cats that got the cream.”

“I dinna ken what ye’re talking about, Sassenach.”

“Uh-huh.” She didn’t believe him at all. “You look like you could use some sustenance.”

John’s voice piped: “Yes, please,” while Jamie teased: “But I’ve already eaten…”

She scoffed, but placed the tray in John’s lap nonetheless. Sitting beside him, she bumped their hips together to get him to make room. He found himself sandwiched between the Frasers.

“Did you sleep well, John?” Claire asked, her mouth full of bread.

“Best night’s sleep I’ve ever had.” It was the truth, too. He had never been more exhausted or more comfortable than he was the night before.

“Worn out, were ye?” John tossed a bannock right in Jamie’s smirking face, causing a laugh to burst from Claire’s chest. “Weel, that wasna verra nice…”

“Here,” Claire offered. “I’ll kiss it to make it better.” She stretched across John’s body to plant a short, chaste kiss on Jamie’s lips. He feel her breasts against his chest through her thin clothing. “There.”

After the three cleared the entire tray, Jamie threw it on the floor and out of the way.

“I’ve been thinking…” He stood, as proud and as bare as the day he was born.

“Yes…?” Claire popped onto her knees in curiosity

The large man circled the bed, stalking. A predator. His muscles were taut and poised: fists clenched, thighs thickened, stomach dimpled. Dawn light glistened off the hair on his head and body, glinting scarlet and gold like a candle. He was about to strike, his heels lifting from the ground, eyebrows furrowed in concentration…

And then he turned, making his way toward the chair across from the bed. Sitting heavily, he steepled his fingers and spread his legs.

“I want to watch. The both of ye.” His voice was husky and demanding.

John’s heart spiked at his words. Did he mean…?

“Watch us do what?” Claire shrugged a shoulder, allowing her dressing gown to fall partially. One ivory breast peeked out from the cloth, nipple hard and straining.

“Ye ken fine what I want.”

They did, indeed.

John, feeling powerful from the morning’s activities, began to run his lips along Claire’s exposed shoulder. He could hear the catch in her breath.

“Aye. Like that.”

John chanced a glance at Jamie, whose fingertips were caressing his cock. He groaned at the sight, pressing his teeth against Claire’s neck. She moaned in response, her hand reaching backward to grasp John’s thigh.

Needing more of her skin, John fumbled with the sash around her waist. Loosened, the thin fabric fell open and pooled around her waist. His hands roamed the newly exposed flesh, caressing and groping. So lost in Claire’s body, John almost forgot about the set of eyes upon them.

Almost.

Small, muffled grunts emitted from the redhead’s mouth as he lightly touched himself.

John flipped Claire around, pressing her back upon the mattress. Her legs opened freely at the nudge of his knees. Her bore down on her, attacking her lips.

Mouths opened. Breath mingled. John could feel her heartbeat beneath her breast; it echoed within his own chest. Her body grew warm beneath his, and slickness began to pool between them.

John descended Claire’s body, his tongue dancing upon the velvet skin of her neck, her shoulders, her breasts… He pulled a nipple into his mouth, teasing it gently with his teeth. Her back arched off the bed, taut as a bow string. Encouraged, he dipped further, tickling her navel and kissing her hip bones. Even further still, his face was level with her center. Glancing up, he found Claire looking at him, propped up on her elbows. Her eyes were glassy and heavily-lidded. Behind her, Jamie began pumping his length in earnest, his mouth half-open. John felt himself harden further.

Lowering himself upon Claire’s body again, John pressed a small kiss on her pubic bone. And then again, a bit lower... A needy cry burst from her chest, and she pushed her hips upward. Happy to oblige, John drug his tongue up and down her slit, making sure to pay careful attention to where she needed him most.

She was salty and slick and all encompassing, and John was at her precipice. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and he could feel her moans as they vibrated down her body.

Unable to control himself any longer, John crawled up her body, positioning himself to enter her…

“No.” Jamie’s voice rang loudly across the room. He was still gripping himself tightly, almost purple with want. “Flip over, Claire. I want to look ye both in the eye.”

She did as she was told, landing on all fours. He arse arched upward, rubbing gently on John’s cock.

Jesus, her arse was round…

Gripping the pliable flesh, he entered her from behind, and three separate moans echoed simultaneously.

Claire and John raised their heads, looking into Jamie’s eyes; they were glazed and intently watching them. The sensory overload spurred John, and he began rocking his hips against Claire. She squeaked. John chuckled at the sound, and continued to pound against her.

“Harder!”

Doing as he was bid, he grasped a handful of her curls, tugging gently at the scalp, and slammed into her once. Twice. Three times.

And she cried, her walls quivering around him. Her arms shook as she tried to keep herself upright, but the intensity of her climax made her unsteady and she fell to her elbows.

John was straining against his own pleasure, wanting to make this last.

Large, slick hands caressed John’s back; he hadn’t realized Jamie had moved. He was behind him now, cock hard against his back as his lips trailed down his shoulder. John writhed at the new sensation. Jamie’s oiled fingers tickled down his spine to end at his arse; his palm flexed against the skin, his fingertips bruising.

“Is this alright?”

Did he mean--?

Jamie’s fingers drew circles on his buttocks, an unspoken answer to an unspoken question.

“God, yes! Please, yes!” John’s vocabulary has been reduced to monosyllables.

“Thank God.” It was merely a whisper, but John felt the words caress his hair. “Hold still for a moment.”

John’s hips had been quivering, his cock still inside Claire. Against all instincts, he stilled.

Jamie was oiled and ready, his stiff length wedged in the cleft of John’s arse. He moved closer, his tip teasing John.

“Bend over.”

John curved until his chest was flush with Claire’s back. He felt Jamie, centimeter by centimeter, as he pushed slowly…carefully. John sunk his teeth into Claire’s shoulder as discomfort gave way to pleasure; she moaned at the sharp bite on her skin.

Enveloped and enveloping, he was crushed between the bodies of the Frasers. Like links on a chain, they connected perfectly.

John moved first, his hips slowly thrusting into Claire as his body adjusted to the simultaneous penetrating and penetration. Claire met him thrust for thrust, the flesh of her arse smacking against his hip bones.

Then, Jamie joined with his own gyrations. With John’s every inward thrust, Jamie’s hips tilted backward. And when John pulled out of Claire, Jamie slammed into him. He couldn’t stop the scream that came from his chest.

It was a dance, choreographed for their pleasure. The movement of one affected the others, like dominoes. Jamie’s left hand remained on John’s hip, while the other reached for Claire’s breast; her body vibrated at the new sensation. John’s hand flew backward to grasp Jamie’s flank.

He couldn’t last much longer, not with the myriad of sensations that overtook his body. Hoping to take the two with him, he began swinging his pelvis in abandon: his hip bones bruising Claire’s rear and his haunches slamming against Jamie’s legs.  

He stretched his arm around Claire’s body, landing between her legs. Caressing her there, she bucked wildly against him, another climax taking her over. John followed soon after, spilling himself into her while his moans echoed off the walls.

Two more thrusts from Jamie, and he exploded behind him, beads of sweat dripping into John’s back.

The three disentangled their slick bodies, collapsing on the bed. Jamie was the first to rise, searching for towels to aid in the clean up. He threw squares of linen on the bed for them.

Messes abated, they slumped against the pillows.

“Can we just lie here awhile?” Jamie breathed through gasps.

And so they did, snuggled spoon fashion with Claire in the middle. Her small arms gripped him tightly to her front.

“I’m so glad you found us John.” Claire’s voice whispered in his ear. It was the last thing he heard before exhaustion took over.

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 51

DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.

SYNOPSIS:  Jamie has an epiphany about his feelings and Claire’s reaction to his gift. Meanwhile he is actually setting a trap to capture Madame Cheung

 *N.B. This chapter contains some suggestive text.

 THANK YOU all for the lovely comments re the 50th chapter milestone.  There will be a couple more chapters in the Madame Cheung arc and when Jamie and Claire return to Section One, they regroup and see what steps need to be taken to bring the rest of the triad down, for they have yet to capture the Dragon Head – Sun Yee Lok.  THANK YOU for your support of my writing this story and I hope you continue to enjoy where I take our two characters in the chapters to come.

Chapters 1 - 50 can be found at …https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

  CHAPTER 51(S)

It didn’t take long for Jamie to reach the bedroom and sliding Claire down his body they gazed into each other's eyes while the air around them crackled with pent up sexual energy. Her breath caught at the heat swirling in the depths of Jamie’s stare igniting a flame that burned deep inside her.  Drawing his Sassenach nearer, her nipples beaded into tight buds against his chest while he continued to place kisses to her soft responsive lips.  Claire coiled her arms back up around his neck and brought their bodies even closer, then applying the slightest amount of pressure she urged his head down for a hot open-mouth kiss. James Fraser tasted like heaven. His lips were warm and masculine, hot, demanding and oh so intoxicating. Lost to the moment, she sighed as his mouth captured hers compellingly.

Teasing the strands of his hair, Claire brushed the collar of Jamie’s shirt with her fingertips and then dug her hands into his thick mane of curls holding her body close to his so that there was little space between them. She wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of his hands and the heat of his mouth on her naked flesh as he tasted her, but their clothing was in the way. Feeling the distinct ridge of Jamie’s erection, there was no denying the heat of his need and Claire moved provocatively against him. Then with tentative fingers, she gently glided her hand over the front of his trousers. Moaning at her discovery, her hands sought and found the hardened ridge of his body and boldly explored him. A groan escaped from Jamie’s throat too at the boldness of her actions. In retaliation he skimmed her jaw while his lips trailed a steamy path down the side of Claire’s neck. Sensation shot through her with lightning speed and she lost her balance stumbling backwards. Catching her Jamie pressed his love up against the side of the dressing table. Claire moaned but continued to explore her new-found discovery.  Caressing the fabric of his trousers she tormented Jamie as she glided her fingers over the bulge feeling him harden even more. He in turn struggled with his feelings as Claire’s movements were playing havoc with his libido. Boldly unzipping his fly, she slipped her hand beneath his trousers and felt his erection. Claire shivered with desire as her own sex pulsed in response. Aching for Jamie’s touch, she wrapped her fingers around his rock-hard cock and gently stroked the velvety smoothness of him. Jamie sucked in a sharp hiss of breath and lowered his hand down hard over Claire’s halting her movements. Tenderly picking her hand up, he caressed it placing a kiss to her palm. Need raked her insides as he held her gaze captive in a look Claire could not deny.  James Fraser was mesmerized by the boldness of his Sassenach and staring at one another for a brief moment, they both reached out as lips collided once more. With a flurry of movement his hands were dexterous as he quickly removed the clothing that was a barrier to her skin. In no time Claire stood before him in enticing red lace lingerie. The high cut of her panties revealed the lithe length of her long legs while her breasts heaved in the constriction of her bra. The sight of her was nearly his undoing.

Trailing tender caresses down her throat Jamie lingered on her breast while his hands gently cupped her and his lips worked their magic. Claire’s head fell back when he squeezed her breasts and his thumbs searched for her taut nipples protruding through the lace. Capturing his face with her hands she pressed him closer to her flesh.

He kissed her again.

Sliding further down her body Jamie stroked Claire’s thigh were her panties rested on her skin. Placing his hand over the lace he cupped the heat of her groin and provocatively pressed his hand there. Feeling his touch, warmth spread straight to the region where his hand rested. Reluctantly though Jamie left her heaving in want for this more intimate touch as he removed his hand and skimmed it over her stomach while his other hand caressed her warm back. Claire trembled as riotous sensations coursed through her body. She moaned, but still Jamie’s gentle touch ignited the flames of desire and she could do nothing but enjoy the moment. Unclipping the fastening on the front of Claire’s bra her breasts broke free of the restraining garment and Jamie’s hands glided over her heaving chest removing the bra from her body. Capturing the lace on one finger he let it fall to the floor while his eyes held hers prisoner. His lips eventually returned to her chest and once again he caressed the mound of her breast lovingly.

Impatient fingers loosened Jamie’s shirt and pushed if from his frame while he quickly removed the rest of his own clothing.  At the same time, he continued to glide up and over her body in familiar renewal of her velvet soft skin. Tracing his hands back down her thighs Jamie then lifted his woman into his arms as he lavished kisses to her mouth.  Wrapping her legs around him, Claire wove her hands into his hair and held him tightly to her.

Lifting her closer Jamie deepened their kiss, meanwhile Claire’s hands encircled his head holding him enslaved to her mouth as her thighs held him in a vice like grip.  They kissed wildly, then walking her backwards they fell to the bed and Jamie rolled his Sassenach beneath him.

The next morning…

Piercing blue eyes caressed Claire’s body as he watched the rise and fall of her chest in peaceful slumber. Leisurely running his hands over the soft skin of her back Jamie felt every gradation of her body, a body he knew so well. Claire’s kiss-bruised lips also tempted him and he tenderly placed a chaste caress to her soft mouth. Although a beckoning raw need for her once again darted through his veins, Jamie didn’t want to wake her, but the warmth of his Sassenach pressed against him as she lay asleep in his arms was oh so tempting. Sighing, Claire inched closer to his warmth.

His eyes travelled down the column of her throat before resting on her hand that rose and fell on his chest. Capturing it in his, Jamie drew her closer as his thoughts turned to the gift and her reaction to it. The spontaneity of her kisses last night when he’d given her the watch still played on his mind. He had felt a kick in the stomach when he’d seen her unshed tears and the impulsiveness of her reaction had captured his heart. His act of kindness had overwhelmed her. He didn’t know what had possessed him to barter for the watch ... he only knew at the time that he had seen how much Claire had loved the timepiece and he’d wanted her to have it. Her response only endorsed his decision to do so. He loved the way he felt at her reaction and was glad he’d done something out of the ordinary. So many times, he had hurt her, betrayed her trust, made Claire question the reasons why he did things ... but with this one gift he had somehow redeemed some of his past indiscretions. It felt good. He was captivated by this woman who was his world.  He never realised that his gift would evoke such a profound response from Claire and he was overwhelmed with how her reaction made him feel as well.  It was just a watch, albeit one that she had admired but when he saw it, he knew why she had loved it. He suddenly realised that it was not just a gift to his Sassenach but it was a token of his love that he’d bought it for her. This was obviously what Claire had felt in receiving the gift.  He would never figure women out and especially not this woman, but he had to acknowledge it was why she had so suddenly welled up with tears and emotion.  His gift had touched her heart and in return it had made him introspective.  This wonderful woman was worming her way into his heart. He was falling in love with Claire Beauchamp more and more and for the first time in his life he could admit this to himself.

Ever since he had been recruited to Section One his life had been mapped out for him from the get go. He was a cold-blooded killer who had become desensitised to the notion of love.  He’d always seen himself as an unlovable man because that is what Section had made him.  He was a ruthless, calculated assassin and their penultimate cold operative who was devoid of any feelings or compassion and empathy.  He’d never once questioned the why of his actions, that is until Claire was recruited to Section One and was given to him to train. He always knew that he was not worthy of love but this amazing woman obviously saw in him what he did not of his character. This had always been so perplexing because she had come into his life and turned it upside down. He didn’t quite understand how Claire could feel the way she did. 

But now, his perception had changed.  Suddenly everything made complete sense. He had clarity about his feelings for this woman that he had long suppressed but which Claire had been able to tap into. His Sassenach was unlike any other woman he had ever met. Little by little she was indeed breaking down the barriers he had erected surrounding his heart … ones which he thought were impregnable.  Perhaps he was beginning to see what she saw … he was worthy of love after all.

Jamie pulled Claire into a tighter embrace. She played such havoc with his inner demons and sorely tested his control, but having her in his arms and feeling her warmth against his body was comforting. Jamie bent forwards. Brushing Claire’s hair away from her temple he smelt her inimitable scent, a smell so intoxicating that it drove him to distraction. His Sassenach was so beautiful ... if only she knew the power, she had over him.

 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As he watched her sleeping, Jamie felt his body harden in reaction to his thoughts and her nearness. He tried to curtail his growing libido by reflecting on her deep cover mission with Madame Cheung. 

It had been difficult but his presence had helped considerably. The Rising Dragons triad had many facets and this Madame Cheung had been involved in the very area that Claire abhorred. She was vulnerable where there were innocents being abused and this mission was beginning to take its toll on her emotions.  However, their end game scenario would soon bring Madame Cheung’s reign to an end and severely incapacitate an important part of the triad’s business and revenue.  Not only that, but the girls in her employ would be set free to return to their families or to start a new life free of the shackles of the triad. Claire would certainly relish the belief that they had achieved freedom for the girls in servitude and that their predicament was no longer.   However, their failure to locate the elusive Sun Yee Lok would necessitate further missions until he was brought down. Once they returned to Section One, they would be able to regroup before the next phase that he knew would come. What this may involve was unknown but anything was possible.  More than likely Claire would go undercover once more given her past experience but that was up to Madeline and Operations to decide the best course of action.  He was thankful though that his Sassenach wouldn’t be involved in another deep cover mission like that with Madame Cheung on her own.  Being so close to the Rising Dragons again would be far more dangerous for Claire especially coming on the heels of this mission. Another deep cover mission could put her in jeopardy and Section could ill afford for their operative to be compromised at such a crucial stage in the big picture.

Operations had said they were working this like an onion before capturing the Rising Dragons’ leader, but there were many layers yet to peel away that would require patience and perseverance. 

Leaning into her body, Jamie gently traced Claire’s curves with his hands while his eyes caressed her delicate features. He kissed her and stroked his fingertips along her arm. His body began to betray him as he felt the surging need radiate though him. His Sassenach’s nearness was sheer torture. He wanted her. Feeling the tightening in his groin, Jamie’s breathing became more laboured and when he shifted his hips and pressed them closer to her warmth a moan echoed mournfully in their room. 

Claire stirred. Instinctively she moved against him half opening her sleepy eyes. Closing them again, she snuggled closer to Jamie’s warmth as the throaty, soft timbre of her voice murmured his name.

“Jamie?” 

“Aye?” Opening her sleepy eyes at the husky sound of his voice, Claire peered into the fathomless blue eyes of James Fraser. She could easily drown in those eyes that seemed to see deep into her soul.  Surely Jamie knew that she adored him and loved him beyond comprehension.  Claire smiled; her eyes lingering on his beckoning mouth. He grinned back at her then gently kissed her forehead. Reaching out, she tenderly stroked his stubbled face before running her fingertips along his tempting lips. They parted and he captured her wayward index finger caressing it with the tip of his tongue before reluctantly releasing it. Tracing Claire’s petal soft lips Jamie closed the distance between them gently stroking her face before capturing her mouth in a gentle kiss. “Good morning,” he replied in a hushed voice. “Good morning.” “We have to get up mo ghràidh.” “Do we?” Claire replied mischievously feeling his painful erection throbbing against her soft skin. Jamie watched as a beaming smile crossed her face. He couldn’t help himself. With her laughter echoing in the room he rolled his woman beneath him capturing her mouth in a punishing kiss that silenced them both as desire for each other consumed them. Later that morning ...

Wandering into the breakfast nook, Claire saw that Madame Cheung was already there. “Good Morning Madame”

“Claire ... Where is Monsieur Le Comte? He’s not with you ... Hmmm?” “No, he went for a swim in the pool.” “Ahhh ... Needed some cooling off, did he?” She intonated slyly noticing that her protégé was a little dishevelled this morning. “But of course ... Madame!” Madame Cheung laughed out loud at her hidden innuendo. “Good ... Come sit down.” Claire joined her at the breakfast table and the woman watched as she moved her food around on her plate seemingly lost in thought. “What ... No appetite my dear? Or are you thinking about that intoxicating man Monsieur Le Comte?  It appears that you are entertaining him well judging by that rosy flush I see on your cheeks.” “No ... you actually,” Claire replied glancing at the woman sitting opposite her. “Me?” She replied somewhat bemused. “Yes ... about where you grew up. Were you like the girls in your employ? Oh, lots of things really.” She paused before adding, “I grew up on the streets in many different places ...” “Yes ... I know.” Claire looked at her with surprise. “Did that happen to you too?” “Don’t be embarrassed Claire ... I recognized immediately that you were from the streets. I too had a poor upbringing.  I pretty much grew up on the street myself.” “Did you? Not that it shows ... Well, perhaps a little in the eyes. You’ve done very well.” Jamie had not yet made an appearance on the terrace and was listening intensely to their conversation on his frequency channel, hoping that Claire wouldn’t mention Madame Cheung’s procurement of the young girls they had seen at her club.  What he did know was that she was baiting her into revealing her plans for the next few days. He lowered his head, and began worrying his chin with his fingers absently waiting for their conversation to turn towards the information they required to set the mission profile for her capture into action.

“One thing about the streets is that you learn to take care of yourself.  That some brains and a little luck … You’re a fighter like me. You’ve survived Claire and now that you are working for the Rising Dragons, we will take care of you.”

“Is that how you came to be in the triad?”

“In a fashion … yes it was.  I worked my way up the ranks when my potential was recognised and I have never looked back.  I see a similar projection for you in the triad Claire like myself.”

“Thank you.  I’m very happy working for you Madame.”

She smiled at her reply.  “That is good.”

“Madame Cheung?  I was wondering if you would like to join Monsieur Le Comte and I on a trip to Koh Samui tomorrow?” “Unfortunately, I have to stay in Bangkok for the next two days.” “Business?” “Does it really matter?” “So where are you going if you don’t mind me asking?” Claire queried looking for the intel that they need to set the wheels in motion for her capture. “No, not at all my dear. I have to attend to some business at the club ... I’ll be there for the next couple of days. But you enjoy yourself at Koh Samui tomorrow ... anyway you don’t need my company when you have Monsieur Le Comte. Now do you?” “No Madame ... I can learn more about him that may be of use to the Rising Dragons.” “Exactly ... Perhaps you can take in some sights around Bangkok as well. I’ll have Magnus prepare the limousine.” Just then Jamie entered the terrace and made his way towards the two women. Looking up, Madame Cheung noticed his approach. “Oh, here comes Monsieur Le Comte now.” “Bonjour mes demoiselles - Good morning ladies.” “Good morning ... Come sit down and have some breakfast, or would you prefer juice?” “Coffee will be fine.” “Claire was just saying that you planned on going to Koh Samui tomorrow.” “Oui.” “And today? ... Perhaps some sightseeing?” “That’s what I’d like to discuss Madame. Perhaps I could come to the club and go over our business propositions. I’m sure Claire could relax here by the pool.” “Sounds good to me,” Claire replied. “Certainly Monsieur Le Comte.  Splendid idea. The quicker we go over our business agreement the quicker we can set things in motion ... don’t you agree?” “Definitely.” “Excellent ... but come this afternoon ... then you can spend time with Claire as well.” Madame Cheung smiled cagily ... “I don’t want to monopolise your time ... after all you are paying for her services.” “Of course.” “I’ll see you later then.” “Yes. Yes, you will.”  Jamie replied with a disguised undercurrent in his tone that was foreboding for this woman.

  *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued