Summary: You need to read Come in From the Cold – Mac’s POV that was posted last week for Webb’s POV to make any sense.
I came in from the cold a mission later than I should have; thus throwing away everything that wasn’t connected with the CIA. After the debacle with Watts over the Angel Shark and Paraguay, I still marvel that I have a job there.
My heritage prepared me for public service. My father's and, to a certain degree, my mother's career choices, predisposed me to covert operations. For so long the CIA was the conduit for serving my country. I thought that Sarah, of all people, would have understood that.
Upon consideration, I will admit that I’d used Sarah over the years. For that, I am ashamed. She was queen to Rabb’s king in the chess game he and I played for so long. For a while, I captured her. It wasn’t until I lost her through my own stupidity that I realized how much I needed her, truly loved her. Until that time, ‘out in the cold’ was just a phrase that never applied to me.
Though it came as a surprise, I readily agreed to lunch with AJ. I know he understands my life. I saw that in Italy. He accepted the need for covert ops. But he knew first hand the pain that life can cause loved ones and that day at lunch he succinctly laid it on the line.
"You’re an idiot, Webb; a bigger fool than Rabb. You actually tasted her love and you threw it away.
"I did what I had to do. Tanveer..."
"Bullshit."
And I admitted to myself I needed his advise. "What am I going to do?"
"Walk away. Get on with your life. Let her get on with hers."
"I can’t."
"You have to. What else can you do?" Lasers couldn’t cut any deeper than his hard stare. "Grovel? You think she would respect you if you did?"
I tried to gather my shattered pride and shrugged. "Tried that. Won’t do it again."
"She’ll never understand. Women can’t. It’s too emotional with most of them. They see home and hearth first."
"I thought she was different, damn it."
"No woman is that different."
"I know. Mother said the same thing."
"Then I can’t make the point any better."
"Sarah never loved me." I tried to hide my bitterness, but it escaped nonetheless.
He rolled his eyes in disgust. "You really believe that?"
"She should have known! She found Rabb! She found that kid! Hell, she found a dead body!"
He mused over that for a bit. "You know, she never showed that talent of hers before Chloe was lost and after the case she worked with Sturgis, she never exhibited any signs of it again. Maybe she used it up. Maybe her condition affected it. Come to think of it, she was starting to wear a wristwatch just before I left JAG." He drank his coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. "It was a pretty stupid thing to hang your hopes on, Webb."
"It was all I had."
"Well, you lost her over it." Only his eyes showed any compassion.
"I love her, AJ." Damn. I felt like a child. "I tried."
He snorted back his laugh. "I hear flower therapy didn’t work."
I wonder if all of Washington knows what a wuss I was. "Well, I stopped that. Rabb asked me to."
"Because he asked?" His look questioned my manhood and that I might be worthy of Sarah’s love.
"What the hell am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me."
"She will someday. Are you going to wait?"
"What choice do I have?" And the truth was I would’ve waited forever. Relationships are hard enough without the added burden of "Need to Know" and "That’s Classified." For four months I licked my wounds and was reasonably successful in fighting off social commitments, even with mother, once she decided to start talking to me again. God, how are men supposed to get anything right? My nightly dreams of Sarah were unsatisfying, but better than any contact with the women of my so-called social circle or prostitutes.
When her call came that cold day in November, I was riding a justified high of an op well run — from 5000 miles away. Her voice shattered the euphoria, and I reacted with sarcasm, letting my bitterness make me sound petulant, even to my ears. "Why do we have to meet on the coast? I would’ve thought it held bad memories."
"Only Manderlay, Webb. Yes or no?"
"Fine! Let me see what I can move. It might not be blowing up stinger missiles from a bi-plane, but I do a few things that are important." God, what was the matter with me? Even as I had planned the mission that would tear us apart, I’d known I’d have to face her wrath. The scene on my deck at Manderlay was just the opening act to the drama I knew I’d face. I was terrified. "I’ll be there."
All the way out to the coast I prayed that Langley would call. But for once everything was under control. I parked my car next to hers, checked-in, and carefully checked out the room. The owner had told me where she was. Taking time to check my attire and my hair, I finally gathered the last of my courage and walked out into the blustering afternoon. Why had I checked my hair? I made my way across the beach until I saw her sitting there talking to herself. I knew I was in for it.
"Sarah?"
:: :: :: ::
The little bar was friendly even though the bartender tried to appear gruff. At least he did his thing and returned to watching the Sports Channel, ignoring us completely.
While we waited for the hot chocolate to arrive, I took the offensive. "What’s this about Sarah?"
Why am I not surprised that she hadn’t asked Rabb to intercede on her behalf? I’d feel sorry for him, but he’s a big boy fully capable of handling the fallout from his mistakes.
Damned good lawyer that she is, Sarah laid out her questions and demanded my answers. I tried my best to justify my abysmal treatment of her. But, of course, there was and never will be any justification beyond utter male pride and stupidity. I’m not sure she expected my admission. She was certainly bemused by my report of mother’s reaction.
When I couldn’t hide my bitterness that she hadn’t used her gift to realize that I was still alive, she reacted in much the same way as AJ. Little did I know at the time there was a reason for that. She landed a few well-placed salvoes destroying my ill-conceived arguments. But she listened to my new job description. And, thankfully, she didn’t shy away from my touch or my righteous sarcasm over the value of what I did and will need to continue to do in the name of National Security.
I’m not sure that she meant to let it slip that she’d finally agreed to see me because of something that AJ had said to her. Of all the people in Washington, I would have never painted Chegwidden as Cupid, even if they were both bald.
While wary of her reaction to my declaration of loving her, I had to put it on the table. I didn’t expect her to throw back my exit line at me. However, her smile softened the blow. Her next admission sealed my fate. There will never be another woman for me, particularly after her stumble. I’m damn sure she hadn’t meant to use the term wife so early.
I will do everything in my power to not disappoint her in the future. I’m sure I’ll fail at times. But now I fully understand the stakes. When I led her to her hotel room, all I expected was to kiss her again, talk some more and listen patiently to her concerns.
"Come in from the cold, Clay."
:: :: :: ::
Sex with Sarah was always an adventure. You wouldn’t expect it from her cool exterior, but that uniform hides a wanton sex kitten. Bold and inventive, there were times when I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep up with her though she never had many complaints, once I stopped drinking.
I expect her to take the lead, like she often did in the past, but we stand there in the center of a middle class motel room, on the Virginia shore. The sheer curtains blur the gray ocean blending seamlessly with the clouds overhead. The only sound is the wind, the surf and two people’s ragged breathing. She waits. I bite my lip so hard I can taste blood. What does she want from me? "Sarah’?"
She looks scared and embarrassed. The strong woman has once again been replaced by her unsure twin. We still have so much to talk about. Stepping closer I cup her cheek. "Since you know I had lunch with AJ, you should know he told me about your condition."
‘‘Oh."
I can tell she hadn’t expected, nor does she want to talk about it right now. However, I need to know. "Will it hurt you to make love?" She shakes her head. "Do you want to make love? Or, would you like me to hold you."
"What do you want?"
I can’t help my chuckle. "Dear God. How I want you. Part of me wants to run away, hide from the world and do nothing else but make love to you."
"And the other part?"
I need her to accept who I am. "Sarah, I can’t be anyone else. I can no more stop doing what I do at the Agency than you can stop being a Marine." I reach out and, wonder of wonders, she allows me to pull her closer until her breasts brush my chest and her eyes bore into mine. "Talk to me."
"Are you going to hurt me again, Clay?" Her whispered plea breaks my heart and for both our sakes I should release her, turn around and drive back to Washington. Instead, I rest my forehead against hers. "Probably, but never as badly as I already have."
"Why the hell do I love you?" she sighs.
My lips caress her forehead. "I have no idea, but I am eternally grateful that you do." I have to risk a question of my own. "Can you promise that, even if I strive to honor your trust that you won’t fall out of love with me, someday?"
We’re not starry-eyed teenagers. We’ve seen too much to think ‘happily ever after’ just happens without no work. And sometimes, even that’s not enough.
whispers. A tear tracks down her cheek and I kiss it away before trailing my lips across her hers. She trembles in my arms and I hold her closer, soothing her with my hands, reveling in the fact that she’s letting me touch her so softly.
Another miracle happens when she finally wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly, opening her lips and inviting me inside her glorious mouth. I want to take this slow, but in the past she’s become almost frantic when we made love. It’s like she’s afraid that the damn phone is going to ring and call one of us away.
Okay, so it’s happened. Stepping back, I give her a grin. "Where’s your cell phone?"
"What?" Her dazed look turns to pique, but she reaches inside her windbreaker and hands it to me. I reach inside my bomber jacket and hand mine to her. She smiles as understanding dawns and together we power them down before placing them side-by-side on the dresser.
"Room phone?" I ask.
"None.
"Outstanding."
She still makes no move to take control. When I step towards her, she duplicates my move. Is she offering me control? Or is she testing me. The very first time we made love had been a bit of a disaster, as first times often are. After she killed Sadik, we agreed to start anew. I know that this will be the last ‘new start’ she’ll risk with me.
I lean in and kiss her softy. Her breath hitches and her hands trail up my arms. Burying my lips against the soft skin of her neck, I pull her closer. "I love the way you smell."
"Mmmmm." It’s an acceptable response, particularly since she teams it with nibbling on my earlobe.
"I could stay like this all day."
"Na-uh." She bites down harder but still makes no move to rush things.
"No, huh?" Taking a step back, I consider my next option. When she reaches up to unsnap her windbreaker, I reach out and stop her. "May I?" A Mona Lisa twitch of her lips is my go ahead. She stands perfectly still as I step behind her to make short work of her windbreaker, tossing it away. She gives a gaspy giggle when I trail my tongue over her neck. "You taste like heaven."
Her sweatshirt is next. As I pull it up, I trace the curves of her body. "Soft." I keep her arms captured in the twisted material while I sweep my lips across her skin, tickling her underarm for a moment. A sigh is my reward and when she doesn’t struggle, I blow in her ear.
"Oh God!" She twists around, dropping her arms over my head; the sweatshirt finally falls to the floor. She stares at me for a long time and I have to fight the urge to apologize again. AJ was right. I won't grovel. It would be the death knell to our love. Instead, our lips fuse and our tongues parry — together. Reaching behind her, I work the clasp of her bra. She moves back allowing me to pull it from her.
I can’t help my groan. "Your breasts are perfection." I take my time showing her how much I like them, rolling the pebbled nibbles between my fingers, kneading the firm orbs, demanding and receiving the reaction I crave. She throws her head back and groans — my name.
Why the hell did I wear jeans? My cock is throbbing but I try and ignore my pain. Kneeling before her, I unhook her belt and draw it through the loops, slowly.
"Clay." Her whine is sultry and demanding. When she places her hands on my head I pause, waiting to see if she is going to try and take control. But all she does is comb her fingers through my hair. "I love touching your hair," she whispers. "It’s shorter now.
I kiss her belly before pulling down her zipper. "You want me to let it grow?"
"Yes." But I’m not sure that it’s in response to my question or my hot breath against her silk covered mound. "Oh Clay." She grinds against my lips. She steps out of her shoes as I pull off her jeans and underwear. Before I can bury my face in the apex of her legs, she steps away. By the time I stand up, she's sprawled across the bed. Holding out her arms, she beckons me."
"So damned beautiful." I quickly shed my clothes.
"Hurry, Clay."
"Not on your life." I crawl up the bed, pausing to touch, taste and smell her until I reach my temporary goal. Lying down beside her, I rest my elbow on the bed, propping my head on my hand. "Thank you," I whisper before leaning closer to claim another kiss and surrender my soul.
Murmurs of encouragement become whispered pleas, which in turn become profane begging as I reacquaint myself with all the spots that make her arch off the bed. My hands rove over the planes and curves of her glorious fevered skin, her scent fills my consciousness and I can no longer resist burying my nose against her sex.
"Clay, please."
I lap and probe, marveling, once again, at each reaction. I blow across her clit, which is straining for my attention.
"Damn you! Clay!" I chuckle at the new inflection in her voice. Raising my head I find her gaze on me. "Please. Please, Clay." Keeping my eyes locked on her, I stiffen my tongue to a point and begin to circle her clit. Her eyes grow wide and I dare her to look away. "I love you," she whispers right before she shatters into her climax. I draw it out, drinking her nectar, probing her heavenly depths. Even as hard as I am, I could stay like this forever. hours However, her hands are in my hair urging me to join her.
I nip her inner thigh as she pulls me up her body. I resist when my lips are offered a chance at her nipples again and for a moment, I think she’s going to let me have my way, but she twists just enough to make me lose my balance and I find myself under her, staring up into her grinning eyes.
"My turn." The wanton sex kitten is back and in full control.
How can I describe the way her mouth feels on my skin? In an act of sheer bravado, I cross my hands behind my head. I’m determined not to touch her. It’s hard enough when she begins to worry my nipple between her teeth. She isn’t gentle and I’m arching off the bed, whimpering, pulling at my hair in an effort to let her have her way.
"Oh, good boy, Mr. Webb." Her purr is playful and for a moment we forget our problems. "But I wager I can make you give it up."
"Give it your best shot." My smirk stays in place – for just a bit longer.
Her grin grows and I know I’m in deep, wonderful trouble. As her tongue trails down my torso, she rides my thigh, rubbing herself back to the brink.
"Damn!" Since losing my virginity, no one has sucked my cock as well as Sarah. Her mouth slides down my shaft and I may cry; it feels so good. "So close," I whisper. "Please, Sarah. I want to be inside you."
She stops and sits back on her haunches, watching me. For a moment I think it’s a test of wills, but I see the worry in her eyes. "What’s wrong?"
"I made the decision to go off the pill. Between my condition, my age and being determined to get my head on straight before taking another lover, I decided it was best."
She allows me to pull her down into my embrace. "Will getting pregnant be difficult?" I whisper.
"It depends on a lot of things."
"And how do you feel about that?" I ask as I trace her lips with my finger.
"I would very much like to have a baby before I get to the point where there could be complications." She lifts her head and there are tears in her eyes. I know it costs her a lot but she finally sighs. "I would very much like to have your baby, Clay."
How I manage the calm smile is beyond me but I gently kiss her. "Then there’s no problem." I go for broke. "No matter what happens: if you marry me, if you don’t; if we make a child, or never have children, you are and will be the most important woman in my life. Let me love you, Sarah."
I haven’t seen that pleased smile on her face in a very long time. She straddles my hips and before I know it, I’m fully sheathed in her glorious warmth. Never have we gone so slow, taken such pains to feel each stroke. Her skin is hot and slick against mine. We share gentle quick kisses so we can continue to watch the other’s reaction.
"Oh Clay," she sighs moments before her orgasm overtakes her.
Try as I might, I can’t hold back any longer. Flipping her over, I brace my weight on outstretched arms to begin thrusting furiously. I’m reborn as my balls tighten and I meld to her, crying out her name. I’m determined to stay inside her as long as I can and it takes me a moment to understand that she wants me right where I am. Her fingers are firm against my ass and when I can finally focus again I see relief, love, and wry amusement on her face.
"Dear lord, how I’ve missed this," she says as her hands work their way up my body leaving a trail of warm comfort. Pulling me down until we are side-by-side and nose-to-nose, she cuddles into my embrace.
I bestow feather-soft kisses on her cheeks and nose; more effort might loosen her arms from around me. And that is unacceptable because I finally realize that the cold that had invaded my soul has been banished by her love and forgiveness. As her breathing evens out, I vow that nothing, including my job, will stand in the way of her happiness. I cannot live without her warmth.