5 months later

It wouldn’t have made any sense to anyone except Jack and I, but life was very much simpler now. Even moving around as much as we did, even with all the interviews, the glances we cast over our shoulders even on empty streets, the bizarre feeling of seeing your face on the TV in the mornings over breakfast.

Maybe it felt calm because everything was all out of our hands now. After the story was published, my whole world collapsed for a few moments, and went quiet. I’d heard many fighting men describe the eerie calm that comes just milliseconds after something explodes… the blast is so big it’s almost like it sucks the air out of everything for the few seconds that follow. That’s what it felt like now.

Soon, though, came the aftershocks of what we’d done. There was no precedent for the level of disruption we had caused. In the hour alone after the website went live and the article went into print, there were more than a dozen resignations from top level officials and, most disturbing of all, two suicides. News stations were at fever pitch trying to talk fast enough to tell stunned viewers that no, it wasn’t a hoax, and that yes, with each passing hour the situation looked even more apocalyptic than ever.

The activist group, or what was left of them, came forward soon after. Marines and special task force soldiers all across the country appeared on live national television and said unbelievable things. Jack and I watched, not quite believing ourselves the chain reaction we’d set off. It didn’t stop with my article. With each new revelation, the public were shown confidential material that beggared belief: ‘false flag’ operations in the middle east, evidence of large scale election fraud, details of heinous military experiments, corruption, evidence of media manipulation, bribes, senators with undeniable financial connections to trafficking operations.

Even the conspiracy theorists had trouble grasping the true extent of the vice that seemed threaded right though the core of almost every corner of congress. It was as though there was a single loose thread in the armed forces that tied together a spider’s web of special interests and elite. And once it snapped, everything came unravelling with it. While the world scrambled to try and understand what the hell was going on, Jack and I spent our time in hotel rooms, in a world of our own.

I heard the shower turn off and in the next minute he appeared in front of me, still beaded with water and with his hair slightly spiked. There was no denying it – Jack O’Connor was a handsome man. He’d transformed somehow since we left the States. He walked a little taller. There was a little more edge in his voice, a little more twinkle in his eye. And yes, I suppose it had a little to do with the awesome end-of-the-world sex we’d been having lately.

The guys at home were okay. Hugo was still pretty mad at Jack and ignored all our attempts to get in touch with him. But the others, once they’d read the article that started it all, were on board. We even saw David do an unprompted CNN interview where I saw the same thing in him as I saw in Jack now: the proud posture, the edge in the voice. It was hard to put a finger on, but the weight of these men’s secrets had dulled them, and now that they were relieved of the lie, they all seemed so much stronger and braver. I was proud of them. I think they still felt like I was a pushy bitch who barged in and took over, but that’s fine. They weren’t exactly wrong.

Jack sauntered over and stood before me as I lounged on the bed and watched the TV on mute. The towel was knotted snugly over his hips, perfectly revealing the part I loved the best of him: that sexy, hard, tapering V. This hotel room could have been any of the dozens of rooms we’d stayed at over the last few months. There was a certain feeling of limbo about the neutral furniture, the impersonal decoration.

“You ready?” he asked and peered down at me.

I indulged in a long cat stretch on the bed and sighed.

“Depends… ready for what?” I teased and looked at his bare chest.

“I’m not just a piece of meat, you know” he laughed and came to sit beside me. I scooched over and placed my head in his lap, then kissed his bellybutton. He still smelt soapy.

“Of course not. A piece of meat would never backtalk this much,” I said and playfully traced over the lines his abs made as he bent over me.

He leaned forward and gave me a hard peck on the cheek.

“Seriously, though. I’m nervous about this one,” he said. A Canadian newspaper had flown an interviewer and a single cameraman to our location. It would be the first interview Jack and I would do together. They wanted the human interest side of things. They wanted to know about our relationship. Jack thought it was gratuitous, but agreed to do it if I wanted. I accepted. The money for this sort of thing wasn’t going to keep flowing forever.

“Don’t be nervous. Be charming. Just smile at them like you smile at me and they’ll love you,” I said, wondering if I wanted to trace further down to the soft bugle under his fluffy towel and start something.

“Love me? I don’t want them to love me,” he scoffed.

“No?”

“I want them to focus on the story. Not on me…”

“Yes, yes, I hear you’re not a piece of meat,” I laughed. He gently grasped my head between his hands as he looked down at me. Having just showered before him and wearing my robe, I was enjoying the fact that there was only a thin piece of fabric separating my naked body from his touch right now.

“Seriously though.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m sure they’ll see you for what you are: a dangerous, sexy fugitive, a trouble maker on the run from the law” I laughed. “Oops, I mean, not sexy.”

He stroked my brow.

“Dangerous trouble maker? Dear, that’s you.”

I laughed.

The interviewer would be here in a few hours. Something about the smell of his skin was making me not care at that moment though… I stretched out long again so my naked leg slipped form the robe and then I casually opened it, revealing my nude body underneath, still using his warm lap as my pillow. I loved teasing him like this. Since our first airport bathroom escapade, stuff between us had been decidedly hotter.

He leaned forward to kiss me again, but this time it was a long, lingering kiss. Before he pulled his lips away I felt him take my hand, and gently guide it down over my belly and between my legs. We had our best conversations like this: wordlessly. My shoulders and neck propped up on his strong thighs; I let my legs fall softly open. My eyes fluttered closed and I focused on how blissful it was to have him stroking my temples, to have the warm skin of his stomach close, where I could hear and feel his breathing.

His hand remained over mine, stroking and guiding it slowly. I sighed and moaned, relaxing into the feeling of knowing that Jack always seemed to know just what I wanted, and how. I tilted my face up and gazed sweetly at him. It was his eyes that were the hugest turn on for me. The secret ingredient that made every other touch feel electric.

I stroked, or rather he stroked, and we gazed into one another’s eyes for a sweet, still moment. It was only a matter of time before I felt his generous cock swelling against my cheek. I nuzzled against the bulge and kissed his inner thighs through the towel. I then couldn’t resist slipping my other hand inside the fold to gently stroke him. I loved the feeling of him responding to my touch. I loved seeing it in his eyes, too: that naughty, loving look of reverence as he peered down at me.

I felt myself growing wet against my fingertips. Our lives had become nothing but this the last few months: the story, hotels, endless afternoons wiled away in each other’s arms, hotels again, the story again…

I spread my legs even wider as I felt his hand firmly push mine away so he could take its place. In response I slid away the towel and brought his cock out into the open, where I could kiss it sweetly all up and down the length. It felt thick and heavy in my hands. It made me even wetter to nestle against it, to smell it, to taste the salty-sweet tip and trail a delicate tongue all down the pair of faint blue veins on the shaft.

The slightest nudge of his hips told me he how badly he wanted to slip the head of his cock into my mouth. It was incredibly difficult to focus with his fingers doing what they were against my wet clit, but I obliged and took him in my mouth, slowly, caressing the girth of him with my tongue. I loved sucking him like this. And I loved that now, I was positioned perfectly to be able to peek up at him as I did so, seeing the pleasure all over his face. He smiled at me, his fingers still tracing small little circles right where it felt the most amazing.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, and stroked my hair aside no doubt so he could all the better admire the view of his thick cock disappearing into my mouth. I moaned and closed my eyes, trying to focus on the sensation of him against my tongue all the while feeling myself growing more and more excited down below.

He slid from my lips, and gently stroked his swollen head across my cheek. Something about the look on his face as he did this, the way his lips parted just a little as he watched me, was such a turn on I immediately felt myself aching underneath his touch. I wanted more.

I shifted my weight, leaned in for a decadent kiss and then got to my hands and knees. Enough of the sweet lovey-dovey stuff. I needed more. I needed his rock-hard cock, and I needed it now.

I laughed and waggled my ass at him, and in no time, he had sprung up and grasped my hips tight, pulling me towards him. I squealed as I felt the weight of his dick nestle between my ass cheeks, and he leant forward to plant a long trail of kisses starting from my shoulders and trailing all down my spine. I loved it when he fucked me like this. I loved how he never held back.

I flopped my head down onto my forearms and moaned softly, then felt him dip into that little pool of wetness, teasing me for a moment. With one long, slow thrust he squeezed in every inch. Even now, even after we’d done this day after day, I still never got over how mind-numbingly good that first stroke always was. My hips twitched against him, but he held me firm and growled his approval. Pawing at my ass cheeks, he drew back and gave me the inch at the base of his cock again, and once more again, burying it all the way inside.

He remained almost motionless while I began to press my hips back into his groin and away again, stroking him in and out of my pussy and back again. In this position, ass high, he could reach really deep into me. The soft sound of his hips slapping against mine was so hot I soon felt beads of moisture wiggling their way down my inner thigh and onto the bed. So much for showers!

Head pressed into the bed sheets, I let go and let him fuck me, harder and more firmly with each pump of his hips, till I was bouncing off his lap again and again, each thrust sending goosebumps all through me. It was a slow, heavy, delicious fuck, but I knew he wasn’t going to let it end here. Something animal came out in him when we were in this position. And though it scared me, I kind of liked it.

He leaned forward and kissed my bare back again, but this time I could hear how his breathing had sped up, almost to panting, and he squeezed down hard on my hips and sides, pulling me savagely against him. Over and over again his strong hips banged hard into mine, sending waves of bliss all through me. He always seemed to know how to hunt out the deepest, most aching spot inside and stroke into it so perfectly that I felt myself turning quickly to jelly inside.

I wanted to tell him how much I loved being put on my hands and knees like this and taken by him. How much I loved what he was doing to me, and how close I was to completely losing control… but all that came out were strangled moans and whimpers. He picked up the pace, till I knew I couldn’t hold on much longer. He pounded away into me, till something juicy deep inside burst and forced a muffled scream from my throat. He froze, thrust all the way in and clasped my hips to him. I could feel him collapse down onto my back as he dug into me. He held me as I came, and in the next moment he came tumbling after me, his own cries getting lost in my hair as he crumpled onto me.

“Fuck!” he moaned. It took a while for the orgasm to rush through and over me, but once I had calmed down enough, I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to myself.

“You plan on squashing me to death or what?” I said and tried to peer up at him. He laughed, kissed my forehead and cheek and gave me one last juicy thrust. I had fallen forward onto my stomach but was pinned in place, his cock still in me to the hilt.

“Have I ever told you how fucking beautiful you are?” he said.

I wiggled my hips against him and grinned. Ah, there it was. That undeniable heat of his cum inside me. Yup, we would definitely be needing to shower again.

“Where’s your camera?” he said.

“What?”

“The way you look right now. It’s amazing. I want a picture of it.” He slid out of me delicately, and ran affectionate fingers through the soft brown curls between my legs.

“Don’t move,” he said, and jumped to his feet to rummage the room for my camera. I didn’t move, but smiled at his enthusiasm.

“You’ve never cared about photography before, why the sudden interest?” I said, and admired his still-hard cock flopping side to side against his toned legs.

“Well, what can I say, you make a pretty good muse,” he said, and brandished the camera at last. He proceeded to move around the bed, crouching, trying to snap a picture of me as I looked at him, a little coy, a little incredulous.

“Maybe you should become a fancy journalist and take photographs of conflict-ridden areas.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe. And maybe you could go into politics or something. See if the Russians will hire you to as a spy wreck things up for them…”

“Hmmm… do you think there’s even anything we haven’t wrecked left?” I teased. He peered over the top of the camera and smiled.

“See, I told you you were trouble.”

I smiled and struck a particularly naughty pose, one leg crossed over the other and my gaze shooting over a flirty shoulder.

“What are we going to do with ourselves, Jack?”

“It’s no big deal. Just have a shower,” he said, and I laughed.

“I mean it. Where to next?”

He angled around and began taking photos from the back.

“Well, I don’t know, Kay. You aren’t the marrying kind, so I guess we just follow this little adventure to see where it takes us” he said. Somehow, this was exactly the answer I needed to hear.

I smiled and closed my eyes.

“There… that’s it, right there,” he said, and I heard the camera shutter click.

* * *