Author: Regency

Title: Un Corazon: God Only Knows

Rating: PG-13, but not so much

Pairing: Jed/Abbey

Season/Spoilers/Sequel: Season seven; none; this is a sequel to Dos Aviones - Right Hand Man. This is the second part. There’s a sequel, Mi Amor: Until Forever

Summary: Abbey tries to get answers to her question, but only ends up even more heart broken in the end.

Author's Notes: Sorry guys, this isn’t the story for NC-17. I know we all love a good love scene, but not for this. The story isn’t over yet.

Disclaimer: I only own Secret Agent Mann. Is he even in this part?

~~~~

No Words

It's dark. She is guided completely and totally by his touch. This is more than darkness. This is an absolute absence of light. It doesn’t frighten her, but leaves her wary. Soon, she finds her back to the wall, a familiar wall. She can’t see him, but she can feel him. He's still in the room somewhere, watching her. He's somewhere close.

His footfalls are silent and his gait is masked by the inner workings of the plane beneath her feet. She thinks she feels a touch, the lightest touch across the tops of her thighs. She moves closer, but it's gone. She's sure she felt a warm breath on her neck, but it's only for an instant, an unfathomable instant. He pursues her as one does its prey. She won’t be able to escape him for long. He won’t allow it. His feelings for her won’t let this game to go on for much longer. His lust is stronger than his resolve. The game doesn’t matter. It was the end that will fulfill them both.

She walks slowly, wary of whatever unfamiliar furnishings might adorn the room. She feels a chill spread across the small of her back leaving goose bumps in its wake. She shivers in the suddenly cool room. The chill doesn’t last as his eyes set themselves on her in the midst of her quiver and set her afire. She has no idea where he is, but he's closer. She takes a step forward and her knees come into painful contact with a table, she thinks it is. She winces and steps back, nearly falling. Two dependable arms catch her gently, steadying her before moving away in silence. She turns fully around, but knows she will find nothing at all. She finds nothing. Only the air slightly warmed by his presence and quickly cooling at his departure. She wishes for sight at that moment, but short of ending their game, she knows it won’t come. And she doesn’t want to be the one to end their game. She won’t be the one.

She has to find her way to the bed, that was the beginning of the game, he said. Then, the fun would start. She knows that he's already enjoying himself. She gnaws busily on her lip and moves slowly toward the center of the room where she thinks the bed will reside. She can’t remember if there is anything between her and it. She hopes not. She wants to play not be bruised. Her fingers come into light contact with a smooth, cool surface. Her hand follows the line of it forward and down, finding her hands stroking soft down and as she moved around and to, silk. She’s found the bed. She stands straight, hiding her apprehension and nervousness.

“What’s next?” Her voice is bold, but tempting. Will he come or make her wait? Moments passed without a word. Then finally, his voice comes, as bold as her own, but commanding and in its own way tempting. It’s so close that she can nearly reach out to him. She does. Her fingers touch his hair, tangling themselves in it and very likely mussing it beyond all repair. He sits on the far edge of the bed.

Capturing her hand in his, he tugs her down onto her knees on the bed and kisses the inside of her palm. The apprehension melts away, but she's still nervous. What if she doesn’t play well?

"Are you nervous?" She shakes her head. She's lying and he knows she's lying. "The first rule of this game is: honesty. Don't lie about your limits. You want something to stop, say so. No code words, just stop. Don't wait for it to improve, just end it. Now, are you nervous?" She nods. She's very nervous. "Good. That'll make it all the better when we get to the fun part. Abbey, I wanna tie you up with a scarf, are you up for it?"

“Tie me up how?”

“Your wrists.” She licks her dry lips, tension tightening every muscle in her body. She knows he’d never hurt her, but fear is fear, whatever it’s origin.

“Will I be able to get out?”

“They’ll be loose enough for you to get out of without much effort. Would you like to see how it would feel?” She nods and puts both of her hands out. He ties the scarf about both wrists and gives a firm, but gentle tug. She starts at the pressure. “Can you get out of that?” She sucks her teeth and does a perfunctory tug here and there. It gives a little. She begins to try in earnest and extricates her hands in a few seconds. She wiggles her fingers victoriously. “Feeling safer?” She smiled in his general direction.

“I trust you.” He reaches up and presses loving fingers to her cheeks. She smiles softly.

“Good.” His fingers manipulate an errant strand of her fallen into her face. “Lay down.” Abbey’s ready to play.

“How?”

“However you feel most comfortable.”

“Okay.” He helps her lower herself onto the bed on her back. This is how she wishes to lay. So be it. He loops the scarves around the headboard and gives a perfunctory tug for her benefit. She nods her understanding. She has to feel safe. They can’t play if she doesn’t feel safe.

“Are you hungry?” She thinks, What a strange question that is, but nods nonetheless. She isn’t really, but doesn’t want to say no to whatever else he has in mind. “How about some cherries?”

“Cherries sound nice. Freshly picked, I hope.”

“Oh yes, only the best for you, sweetknees.” She smiles softly feeling him smiling in return. She’s in for the quite the evening.

He sits down at her side and gives a light kiss, daring only slightly to deepen it. He pulls away and she mourns the loss of his lips on hers. He strokes her chin with a single finger eliciting a purr from the back of her throat.

“Shh. We’ll get back to that in a moment, but I feel like snacking.” He takes a single cherry with its stem still intact and he drags it across her windpipe. She likes how that feels. She feels it rub against the skin of her teeth and licks out her tongue, catching just the tip of it. She got only the brief taste of cherry the skin offered before it was taken away. To her pleasure, something much more pleasant replaces the cherry against her lips. His lips. She parts her lips and accepts the invasion of his tongue into her mouth.

He takes her, restrained from him, but free. She doesn’t believe in resistance tonight. She doesn’t know what the morning will hold and fears even the notion of a moment beyond the one in which she lives.

She hears his clothes fall one by one from his body and waits impatiently for her lot. He has complete control of her now and she feels more connected to him now than ever before. He’s gone for a moment too long and she writhes a little. Just when she’s about to call out for him, a light touch on her thigh stops her. It takes her a moment to identify it, but in that moment she becomes more aroused than she ever thought possible.

He runs the feather along the chasm between her thighs, across the lacey surface of her panties, up past her navel and higher to the valley between her breasts, circling them lightly and finally coming to rest at the hollow of her throat. She holds her breath and waits.

The feather returns. Now, at her knees, down her calves, around her ankles and back up. He follows the curve of her figure, up her arm to her wrist and tickles her palms. She barely notices, because his mouth has taken another path and attacks her décolletage with the desperation of a dying man with his lover. He needs her. There’ll be marks there in the morning.

~~~~

She stretches her fingers to the headboard and her toes to the end of the bed. It takes her a moment to realize that her hands are unbound and that she’s no longer blindfolded. She rolls her shoulders and looks around the room and comes to the conclusion that she’s on Air Force One. She has no idea how she’s gotten there. And where is Jed? She pulls the sheets that cover her higher and steps off of the bed, looking around cautiously. After everything, this…whatever it has been, he wouldn’t do this anyway. Would he? She wants to believe better of him, but he’s given her no reason to. She sees a piece of Oval Office stationary folded on top of the dresser against the wall. She walks to it, still looking around, hoping that he’ll come back in time to stop her. Somehow, she already knows what it says. Gathering the sheets tighter around her with one hand, she unfolds the letter. It reads:

Dear Abbey,

Jed.

Unable to fully comprehend what has just happened to her, Abbey takes the letter back with her and rests on the edge of the bed. The letter was obviously written in a rush, it’s nearly illegible in some places and un-Jed-like in others. So much to say, and there are no words.

No words.

So lost is she in the wake of a deception months in the making that she dares not ask herself the obvious, but painful questions. She allows herself to wonder only this as she lightly touches the dark marks on her throat. How the hell did they get me from that plane to this one without me being seen? That was one of those questions she didn’t really need the answer to.

There are no words.

None.

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