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She stirred a little to the sound of a motorcycle across the small lake - not the rumble of the bike but the loud tinny sound of its radio instead. The piano heavy jazz of it sounded warbled across the water, more like a warped carousel jingle than music. It would have been eerie if not for the way it fell off into more comforting bird song and the sound of someone's dog far off.
It took a minute to remember where the hell she was and why she'd fallen asleep outside, the smell of balsam all around her. Jack lifted her head up from the arm of the long wooden swing, stuffing the pillow farther down under her neck as she looked out over the lake. The wind had changed in the time she'd slept, the current now going in a steady reverse course.
She felt him beside the swing instead of seeing or hearing him. There was a distinct shift to the air around her, a change that had her lifting her head. He had to have known she was awake too, just his hand stretching out to catch into her hair and tug very lightly before soothing his fingertips against her scalp.
“Hungry?” His question was quiet and peaceful, barely two full syllables and mostly breath rather than sound. She liked it. She liked interpreting the slant of his near whispers and murmurs. It implied a certain sort of intimacy that she liked associating with him, with them.
“Not really awake yet,” she half mumbled as she pushed herself up, keeping her head pressed back into his hand to keep him close. “Time is it?”
“Almost six,” he replied as she drew her legs up, knees to her chest and the blanket drawn up around her.
It had been a little after three the last time she'd looked at the nineteen seventies style clock that was unevenly hung in the dining room. That was when she had grabbed a throw blanket and wandered out to the porch to watch the boats and kayaks and birds on the water.
Jack scrubbed both palms over her face, rubbing over closed eyelids as he stroked a full palm against the back of her head. “I slept too long.”
“You needed the rest.” It had been a long drive by anyone's standards, especially when they'd gotten caught up in construction. She had watched his jaw go pinioned tight and firm as they had sweltered in the stagnancy of summer traffic.
The only way she'd managed to keep him from turning full on Grump-Ass was to stroke slowly casual circles against his bent knee, seemingly unconscious of massaging the pain away.
And then she'd purposely brought up Tali, knowing he couldn't help but smile whenever he thought of that little girl's face. So much sweet and silly innocence on a beautifully familiar but fresh face, at least for him.
She wasn't stupid. He was Saba Ibbs no matter how far apart they were. And she was precious to him.
“Whatcha think? Now or later?”
“Dinner?” she blinked up and asked, catching the way he smiled sweetly as he looked at her. One brow went up and she shut her own eyes as he brushed her hair back and away from her cheek, away from her neck. She tipped her head into the way he massaged his fingertips against cramped muscle and a moan came up her throat. “Sure. I can help.”
His fingertips teased along the shell of her ear before his hand slipped away and she felt her lips form an unconscious pout at the loss of contact. “If y'want.”
She just wanted him, to be honest. Beside her, alongside her, inside her, everywhere/it didn't matter where. Just with her.
And it had been that way for far longer than she cared to admit.
***
“Hon’,” he chuckled as he paused in his chopping, the knife poised in one hand and the bell pepper in the other as he spoke, “this isn't helping.”
“It's not?” She clinched even tighter around his mid-section in answer, the blanket still bunched around her and wrapping up his hips in turn. Gibbs widened his elbows out as he snorted and continued prepping, shaking his head the whole time. “Are you sure?”
“Maybe a little,” he allowed softly, enjoying the feel of her cheek against the space between his shoulder blades, warm breath soaking slowly through the cotton of his t-shirt.
“I like your butt,” she asserted softly, snugging up tighter to it as she kissed the back of his neck and sent a spike of heat down the whole length of his spine. “It's nice. I especially like it in jeans.”
“You gonna be like this all weekend long?”
“I plan to be, yes,” she confirmed smartly, voice filled with sass and teasing heat. There hadn't been as much accusation in his voice as there had been playfulness and she grinned, couldn't help herself as she stroked down his stomach and pressed up hotter against the back of him.
He was overly warm but not sweating, his whole body a trapped up spring that hadn't released yet. He was physically tensed and she could only imagine it was because she kept slipping her hand lower every chance she could. Jack exhaled into how rhythmically he worked, most of the vegetables already cut, waiting for him to set the knife down before her hand slipped down and stroked against his zipper. He gave up a low groaned sound, head going back into the way she kissed behind his ear and laughed.
“I heard that,” she whispered against his scalp, humming a shushing noise afterwards, timing it to the same moment she stroked against him and palmed between his legs. So much heat trapped into her hand, her palm curved against the beginning of an erection that she couldn't help but nudge along with her thumb.
The hand that had been holding the knife stroked against her wrist and up her forearm before catching there loosely. “Thought you wanted dinner.”
“I do,” she pouted at him, nicking her teeth against the side of his neck and stroking her palm slowly back up.
His hips flexed hard in quick reaction, all of him flinching into the last pressured squeeze she gave before letting go and rubbing up against his stomach. Her fingertips started a soothing circling against him as her other hand wriggled into his front left pocket.
“Jacqueline.”
She liked that he still always tried to use a tone with her, even when he knew it would do nothing to sway her.
She was a huge fan of consistency in a relationship.
****
It wasn't dinner so much as salad, fruit and cheese, bread and a forty dollar bottle of wine that had made her eyes glow up a brighter brown. It seemed to surprise her that he listened to her fairly well, that he catalogued information just to be able to use it later. Because she'd watched him open the bottle with an affectionate but surprised look on her face.
Of course he knew which bottle of wine (forty bucks? really?) would make her give him a wide Cheshire grin.
“You think I don't listen to you?” Gibbs accused, voice neutral and calm as she flicked him a quick look of slight derision.
“It's a forty dollar bottle of wine, Gibbs.”
He just blanked her a glare, dead on, “Fifteen dollars for cheese, Jack.”
She mugged at him, a grin and wild eyes and silliness all over her face, “So you do like me.”
He couldn't help but laugh at her summation, he couldn't keep from it when she was being so brightly impish.
Hell, he wasn't about to argue her as they ate, not with that assessment. He liked her more than she probably realized, far more than he had ever planned or expected.
He liked her in ways that promised delicious trouble, weakness, probably actual danger.
For her, anyhow…
He didn't know what to do with that knowledge, though. Not when his instant internal reaction was an adamant refusal to let her go anywhere but where she was. He'd pushed women away before… where had it gotten them?
He watched her eat her salad and mentally shoved it to the very back of his brain, enjoying her fascination with the water and how pretty her longing made her look.
***
“Sure you don't want something more?”
She nearly laughed as he caught her fingers across the patio table, squeezing to get her attention back. Such an ambiguous question, so many options, so many meanings. Still, with Gibbs… he had likely really just meant more food. There wasn't often much ambiguity involved when Gibbs started asking questions. He was usually fairly transparent and that's what she figured on as she turned her head back to look at him.
Maybe she was just a bit to the left of right, though. The look on his face said that, even if he hadn't meant to double (or triple) up on meaning, he had just realized how layered the question really was.
More food? She was satisfied and that was all he'd wanted.
Double entendre territory more? Abso-freakin-lutely. She would get there in her own time, though. She was purposely enjoying the long tease of the evening. He burned so slowly sometimes, slow scorch and smolder. It was her turn to tease.
More from him? In a general relationship sense? He wasn't ready to hear an answer to that, not yet. And, frankly, she wasn't sure she had a fine enough grasp on her own feelings to share them accurately.
She thought she did, want more of him. She wasn't sure how much he wanted of her in return, though.
"This is fine," she answered gently, putting an audible smile into the words as she rubbed the pad of her thumb across his knuckles. "Can I ask a question?"
"Just did."
Jack just fluttered up a lazed look at him, noting the boyish shrug he gave after such a lame wisecrack. It was cute and sweet and it spurred her on further. "When did you start to realize - "
"Handcrafted furniture," he interrupted, voice low and calm. "That's when I saw… you."
"My cabinet." Her cheeks went flushed and she felt the heat pinken them up, felt her throat constrict as she swallowed and tried to loosely shrug. She tried to make it seem as though it was nothing... "That was… I mean - "
"It was real. That was the real you."
"You needed it," she murmured, unable to look up at first. It took him tugging at her hand and clearing his throat to lift her attention upward again. "The real me."
He gave her a strong smile and a wink that promised both his pleasure and appreciation. "Drink your wine."
***
She knew he wouldn't fight her, not when she had purposely lounged around his shoulders from behind and started murmuring encouraging little teases. Not when she'd come up behind his chair and made him put down his beer without a word. Her mouth had been shifting from whispers to kisses on his jaw and back again, one hand splayed out flat to his chest while the other hand found its way down his front and into his zipper.
"Jacqueline," he repeated, even using the same tone as earlier.
"Come inside, Cowboy," she murmured just in front of his left ear, kissing into his short trimmed hair while she purposely found her way inside his boxers. Her fingers wrapped heat around him and she felt his head drop back against her as his hips jerked forward.
He groaned hard, turning his head to catch her mouth with his, tongues stroked together and the taste of beer strong on him. Her left hand rose to catch his jaw still as she ended the kiss, a self-satisfied smile flicking over her lips.
"Thought you'd want a fire," he countered distractedly as she kissed his cheekbone, then his jaw. He was half undone, eyes shut and jaw slack as she palmed around his length and squeezed gently.
She kissed softly and slowly on his lips, laughing onto his tongue as his hand caught into her hair and dug in. Even as she brushed her lips away from his he kept them close by a grip of blonde in long fingers.
"Come inside, Jet," she whispered, feeling it go a little sultry on her tongue, unintentionally but appropriately. "Come on."
He groaned even louder at the loss of her hand and the heat she had wrapped around him. Hell, he was out of the Adirondack chair even faster than she had expected.
There was nothing more that she wanted than him and whatever he was willing to give her, she decided.
He was enough, his palm pressing her lower back was enough… His playful growl and the way his tickling fingers tricked a laugh up her throat… more than enough.
***
Jack had a satin sensuality that made him feel utterly lost sometimes, such a fierce sexual sun-heat to her. He often felt that she had him near outmatched, too far outta his world and in a lighter, brighter, sky-shot world of her own. Some days she was all physical and all touch, all taste, mouth and hands and moans as she wrapped her arms at his shoulders.
Those were the days when she ended up on top and demanding, kissing him endlessly. The days he could still smell wet California sand in her hair and taste sunlight on her skin, when her nails scraped on him frantically.
Those certain days he couldn't (didn't want to) do much more than just hold her close and follow that lead - the one that landed her in his lap with his cock driven up inside her, her lithe body riding him rhythmically, slowly. She was naked in his arms and he'd barely gotten his shirt off, his pants only just open. Patience (for both of them) had been lost just over the threshold of the little rented lake cottage. He'd barely found the cushion of the overstuffed loveseat and she was damn lucky they hadn't just hit the floor.
He closed his arms tighter around her, one hand lifting to catch into her hair and drag her head back. There was subtle elegance in the responding curvature of her spine, in the way her throat went vulnerable to his teeth and tongue as her head tipped back. He could taste her sweat and perfume and not much felt better under his lips than his name coming up her throat on a moan. He could feel the sound just as much as he could hear it.
Her moan rose up louder as she shifted her hips, rolled them at a different angle and grabbed leverage from his shoulders. He did what he could to push up in time to her movements but she had him half pinned and that was obviously the way she wanted him, considering. He busied himself by kissing whispers of encouragement along her throat and using his other hand to touch her, anywhere he could. He slacked back a fraction and let her move how she wanted, watching her, just enjoying the slick hot feeling of her clamped around his length and rising, falling, killing him so goddamn slowly.
Her left hand stretched past him to catch the back of the couch and her head came forward forcefully, mouth falling roughly onto his. Something in the angle she'd created had her working up wilder and he knew from experience that it was going to end fast or she was going to draw him out…
He broke the kiss, teeth grazing her bottom lip as she whimpered, one of her hands shoving at his shoulder in disagreement. Gibbs snorted a half laugh at how pouty she sounded and looked, his hands catching onto her hips and driving her down hard as he pressed up.
"What? Gonna pout now?"
"I like kissing you." She shoved at his shoulder again, dropping her head forward as he skidded a hand between them, the other sliding to brace her lower back.
“Yeah?” he murmured, “Well, I like watching you.”
He assumed the long and welled moan she gave him as her head tipped and her hair fell back from her shoulders was her consent, his hand finding its way between them as she braced against the back of his neck and dug in.
***
"We coulda done that in my cabin." Hell, they'd done it that way in his living room and basement and bedroom already. He'd just been unable to swallow the tease.
"We will do that in your cabin," she nodded, breathless as her body melted loose against the cushions. "I wanted the water."
"I know," he murmured as he leaned forward, kissing against her shoulder as he stretched down beside her. "S'why I suggested this lake."
Her head turned into his closeness, her eyes finding his as he slowly blinked. He watched her consider what she was about to say, a swallow going hard down her throat. Her lips parted and she moved to speak, stalling her breath and catching herself at the last second. He watched the entire mental retraction happen in her eyes, the conscious deletion that occured in her brain. He saw it happen and questioned it instantly.
"What?" Gibbs asked gently.
Her body rolled into him, her right leg hooking onto his hip and tucking him close between her legs as she curled her upper body up. Her whole body was tucked back into the couch cushions and he drew her in tighter, up into his chest while he palmed her bare thigh. Her hands busied themselves trying to put his pants back in order and it just led to them both laughing quietly as she tugged at the fabric and ended up simply jerking him closer.
"Hey? Look at me,” he requested, keeping things otherwise soft between them, his hand lifting to push the blonde away from her face. “What?”
"Sometimes you surprise me," she whispered, a slow smile filling the words with comfortable affection. Still. It didn't sound exactly right. "In the best ways."
He squinted, pulling his head back to try and read her features a little better. "That's not what you were gonna say, Jack."
She half smirked, her hand rising to stroke against his chest. "But it'll have to do for now."
***
He should have known.
When he had found himself chilled in an empty bed, every window open, he should have realized that he was alone in the house.
He should have known she'd ditch him first thing Saturday morning for the water… It had been all she'd wanted (besides him) since they'd arrived.
At least she'd made him coffee in the small galley kitchen before disappearing. And at least she'd stayed mostly visible so that by the time he'd woken up and grabbed a cup and gone outside he could stand on their rented smidge of beach and watch her take the paddleboard farther out into the center of the small lake.
At first watching her made him feel… outta place. She was so goddamn beautiful and long legged and sun stroked with slanted lake light. It made him question whether she was really meant to stay in DC, at NCIS. Really whether she was meant to stay with him… Someday, he told himself, he was gonna have to face the fact that he didn't much feel he deserved to keep her.
Because she was the sort of woman who would go out on a paddleboard in just a tank top and bikini bottom at o'dark thirty in the goddamn morning. She was energy, all blonde and white and shined up in the sunrise. Her hair was loosely knotted back and she still managed to make the silhouette of a woman twenty years her junior.
He thought, maybe…
Maybe he should let her go.
Then her head turned to the side as he watched and she gave a pause and he could see the whole of her go still. The paddle came up as balance and he watched her half turn on the board. He could see her smile from half across the lake and six forty five in the morning was suddenly his most favorite time of day. Because she gave him a small but obviously intimate wave and then turned back to what she'd been doing, just like that.
His presence had been included, maybe even… necessary?
Maybe… and maybe he could trick her into staying for the rest of ever if he just never actually asked her to stay. Maybe if he just never gave her a chance to leave…
***
"You're gonna burn if you don't get your ass in here and put something on your - "
"I already did." Her kiss struck happily against his cheek as she caught up to him on the patio, her arms already stretching so that she could wrap against his shoulders. "But your concern is adorable."
She did smell like sunblock and sun sweat and all he felt was heat radiating off her as she drove her way right into the front of him. He suddenly had the visceral urge to kiss her, claim her, fucking keep her as close as possible, for as long as he could.
The whimpered sound she made as he slung her arms up his shoulders and kissed her hard, it was a familiar sound. It was a sweet little noise that managed to twitch his gut and groin at once. Gibbs wrapped around her, near lifting her off the patio tile while he sent his tongue against hers and brought an even stronger moan up her throat.
He couldn't help from finding the stretch of bare skin between the tight tank and the bottom she was wearing with one hand. The other palm went flat on the fabric of her shirt, stretching out over the place where he knew her scars fell. She wasn't wearing a bra because obviously she meant to kill him dead, first thing.
He let her end the kiss when both her palms found his face and stilled him, watching the dazed but obviously happy smile set over her lips.
He shrugged lightly, enjoying how pleased she looked. “I know you miss the ocean.”
“I think I'd miss you more now,” she admitted on a bashful whisper, her hands skipping down against his shoulders and pushing, disentangling them so that she could drop lightly into one of the Adirondack chairs. “Did you really live in Mexico?”
“Who - ”
“Ducky.” Her hand went out and fingertips tapped along the arm of the empty chair beside her, implying he should sit. “I mentioned wanting to retire to a beach one day and later he joked that you and I think too much alike.”
“Can you survive without it?”
Her head turned to watch him as he sat and he avoided looking back at her, keeping eyes on the lake instead. There was an osprey hunting for its fresh water breakfast and he watched it circle lower, winding its way down to the water's surface.
She shrugged before answering, “Water? Nobody can.”
He felt his jaw flex in reaction and he just barely swallowed an annoyed growl. “Jacqueline.”
“Jacqueline? That's three times in less than twenty four hours,” Jack turned back on him again, her whole body aimed in his direction. “What aren't you saying, Gibbs? Because you don't usually - ”
“Need to know you’re gonna stay.” He shrugged and avoided looking at anything to do with her because usually looking at her was where things got problematic for him. “That's all.”
The osprey lost the fish it had been prowling and went high again. Gibbs just swallowed and did all he could to avoid the prettiest brown eyes he knew...
“Are you being emotionally vulnerable right now?”
“No,” he grumped sharply, making a face even while realizing that it instantly called him out. “Not on purpose.”
Her sudden laugh shot right through him and obliterated his resolve. Any annoyance he could have tried to hold onto was ripped from him just by the sound of her pleasure, by the way it crinkled around her eyes. He finally turned and watched her laugh and felt a smile tug insistently at his mouth. He just gave in and snorted a half laugh out, leaning back in the wooden chair.
Damn, he could love her. Really, actually love her. It was possible that he was already in love with her. It was even more likely that he'd been avoiding the realization like it was the goddamn plague.
“So, what? You want a promise or something? That I'll never go back to California?”
“Would you?” he asked, squinting as he studied her face.
Sudden resilience took over her features, or maybe, maybe even something more… more indignant. “No.”
Gibbs just squinted harder, feeling his jaw tense as she met his eyes and held his glance. She wasn't giving him anything to read now, not a single twitch. “Because of Faith?”
Even a mention of her daughter barely registered - except to darken the already deep and rich color of her eyes.
“Because of many things,” she allowed softly, voice quiet but strong. “If you want a serious talk then you're gonna have to get serious here, Jethro.”
“I'm dead serious here, Jack.”
“You really mean it," she spoke in surprise, face going slack and jaw loosening as her shoulders dropped. She lost the harder facade as she started to interpret the conversation as less of an interrogation and more as he'd meant it… as a discussion. Hopefully. He still wasn't that great at communicating. “Okay, I promise I'm not going back to California. Yes, because of Faith. And you. And because… I like this version of ‘home’.”
She fidgeted when he didn't answer and he watched her internalize a little, her right shoulder shrugging minutely. “I feel… It's family.”
He reached between them and caught the way she'd gripped onto the thinner part of the chair arm. She was adorably crooked in the seat, sideways so that she could face him and knees drawn curled up. Gibbs took her hand off the wooden arm of the chair and tugged at her fingers lightly.
“How much longer on your lease?” he asked, rolling her hand into his so that his palm covered the back of her hand.
Jack blinked, head jerking back on confused surprise. “What?”
“On that ridiculously over-priced apartment that you're never in. How long does your lease - ”
“Jethro Gibbs, you are not asking me to move in by back-door asking about my apartment lease,” she tugged her hand away and slapped playfully at his and he could just barely hear a trickle of humor in her tone. For as much shit as she was likely to give him, he'd still found a way to please her. And to make her nervous, it seemed. Because she got instantly fidgety and reached up to tug her hair loose, keeping her hands busy just to avoid his. “I cannot believe you sometimes.”
“You didn't even let me ask.”
“For being so observant you really are a moron." She fumed for a moment, annoyance pursing her lips before she left off a hard exhalation. It wasn't all that serious, though. It never reached her eyes. He watched her take another deep breath before she cocked him a look and half laughed. "I thought we were going fishing today?"
"You didn't answer."
"You didn't ask." Jack shifted forward and dropped her bare feet to the patio tile, pressing up from the chair and letting his hand brush against her thigh as she stretched and then waved his question off. "Decisions like that shouldn't be made on vacations anyhow."
"That a 'no'?" Even he heard how thin his voice went on the question, how watered down it sounded.
"Not necessarily. I just don't want you to regret it." Another heavy sigh came off her, dropping her shoulders with it. "I'm not an easy woman."
"I know that," he said while he frowned unintentionally, squinting as he shrugged. Her fingers caught in his hair as she started to head inside, tugging his head back as she bent forward. "I like that part."
"Ask again when we're home," she requested, voice warm and gentle as she kissed his cheek. "Be sure."
He arched a brow as she went for the door, his shoulders slacking heavily into the slant back chair. "I'm sure right now."
"Okay," she placated, letting the screen door slap closed behind her. “Sure.”
Sure. Fine.
He was gonna take that as general agreement and if she didn't like it then she'd learn not to be so damn flippant all the time.
***
She wasn't a woman who was prone to ogling attractive men but she figured she was more than allowed if she was the one he kept dragging into the shower, or kissing in elevators, or buying expensive food for…
"Stop staring at my - "
"You think I didn't notice you this morning? I thought you were gonna stop breathing when I came up the beach."
"Jack… you weren't wearing pants," he accused, giving a scant glance down over her legs and the cut off denim shorts she was wearing. "Not that those are much longer."
She stretched out, flexing her ankles and toes with a tease of a grin. Her hand lifted from the book she was reading, waving in the direction of his lower half. "Well, feel free to take those off at any time, Cowboy."
"You gonna fish or watch my six all afternoon?"
Oh, hell, she had never actually planned to do any fishing. She just wanted to enjoy looking at him for awhile. "The latter. Also, I'll probably nap. You're welcome to join me."
"So it's on me to catch us dinner?" He cast back over his shoulder, giving her a nice profile before she took another wandering look down the back of him.
Denim really did beautiful things for him, honestly… "I already have my catch of the day."
She watched him shake his head back and forth in feigned annoyance, her eyes drifting shut as he muttered "Hilarious."
The sun was perfect in its heat, in the way it warmed her as she tried to force the words in her head to go past her lips.
She'd done the math. It hadn't taken all that long. It had been building the courage to say something that had taken most of the morning and mid-day…
"Five months, one week, two days," she finally told him, eyes opening just in time to see his wrist flick the line and then hold. "That's exact."
He was still and silent for a moment and her ribs seemed to inwardly clench on her lungs. She didn't move, not until his head half turned and she could see a portion of his profile, jaw down. Jack tucked her book into her chest, drawing her knees up so that she could wrap her arms around them.
"Longer than I'd hoped," he said softly, his head shaking minutely. He still didn't turn back and she fidgeted a little, rubbing her thumb into her left wrist, pressing against the ache that lived there. "Want you close."
She felt her whole body flush warmer. The ache was still there but it met with a low hum throb that went up the entire length of her. God, he could turn any conversation into something sexy or sweet. He could sway her so simply and usually just with that vulnerable voice and a few well-placed words. He was awfully damn charming for a man who told the world that he lacked communication skills.
"Not going anywhere, Gibbs. Already told you that."
He seem to visibly flinch at first, his whole body going taut and straighter. She watched tension ripple down the back of him, shoulders to hips to bare feet. Wasn't like she didn't know why… hard history was ever present when it came to his romantic relationships.
Considering his past, she was surprised every day by how far they had actually come.
He reeled in the line with a purposeful patience, slowly and carefully. And he was silent until he caught the hook in and squared it away. "Women in my life…"
"Are lucky," she supplied, offering him an exit from the heaviness of the discussion. "I can take it, Jethro. I've seen worse men than you."
He huffed and set the pole aside in the grass, turning up higher on the bank and putting one knee down slowly beside her. She put her hand to his chest as he finally met her eyes and knelt in. "I mean - "
"I know what you mean. I can count," she told him with some salt, a shoulder shrugging her supposed indifference. Her hand went up and caught into the t-shirt he was wearing at his, giving him a tug closer. "It's worth the fight."
He shook his head as he sat beside her, stretching them out together. "Jack."
"You're worth it," she argued abruptly, self conscious when she realized how loudly she'd said it. And as soon as she saw how much it flared his eyes brighter she near cringed, embarrassed. He shook his head as he watched the emotions wash across her face and then his hand lifted so he could brush against her cheek appreciatively. Nothing else, no commentary to embarrass her further, no saccharin sweetness, just the movement of his hand.
He had a way of making it always just seem… simple.
"Just saying that so I'll catch more fish?" His fingers dropped and pried her book away, holding her place and laying it down, open faced on the grass.
Jack felt mischief on her face as she recovered, knew he could see if before she even spoke. "I mean… be nice if you could catch any at all."
She yelped laughter when he lightly pinched the back of her thigh in answer, stretching her legs out as he pressed up over her. His palm rubbed full and warm along her thigh, silently and apologetically soothing the spot. She laid back entirely with a half swallowed moan, eyes shut while his fingers teased the frayed edges of her shorts.
She half jumped when his thumb pressed her inner thigh and started massaging up, down, back up again. Wicked. He was absolutely goddamn wicked some days. And her body loved him for it. Her body had been in love with him for ages now, really. Fickle thing…
Gibbs stretched out farther and let his head rest against his opposite hand, leaning over her while his other fingers found their way higher up under her shorts. "We may just have to go out for dinner."
Her knuckles jammed playfully into his stomach and the movement shoved air past his lips as she kissed on his cheek. "Fine, but you're paying."
A warm laugh rose against her cheekbone the same time his fingers found lace panties and she sighed at the touch, at the sound of his voice so valved and quiet and just in front of her ear. "Done deal, Lieutenant."