The Art of Seduction

"Appear To Be An Object of Desire"


To his own surprise, Jarod slept a little. He came aware, slowly, of the
filtered sounds of Miss Parker moving around the cabin, the fire crackling and
the wind howling outside. Unwilling to leave the warm, comfortable haven of the
place between sleeping and waking, he rolled onto his stomach and snuggled into
the pillow, glad of the thickness of the blanket covering him. Occasionally he
still awoke from sleep, screaming with nightmares, but not today. Today he had
fallen asleep naturally and comfortably, and woken in the same manner.

He cracked one eye open at the sound of Parker drawing the curtains closed
at the window behind him, and realised it was almost dark - the room was now lit
by only the fire. Parker crossed the room to the light switch, flicking it on
and off uselessly - no power, it seemed. Jarod decided things couldn't have
gone better if he'd planned it - just the two of them and the cosy, romantic
light of the fire.

"Are you going to sleep all day?" Miss Parker asked from beside the bed, and
while her words were sharp, they lacked any real hostility.

Jarod rolled onto his back, the blanket slipping away and falling to the
side, and stretched lazily. Miss Parker's expression went suddenly *blank*
again as she watched, and he prolonged the stretch just a little, enjoying her
close scrutiny.

"This is a very comfortable bed. I'd offer to let you try it out, but then we'd
have to share. The bed and I are *very* attached," he confided, and rattled the
chain on the handcuffs to demonstrate. Miss Parker tried to control a smirk,
but failed miserably, and Jarod smiled in return.

"Does Sydney know you have a sense of humour? I thought they would have stamped
that out years ago," she said, perching on the edge of the bed.

Jarod stretched again, taking his time to examine the situation. He
noticed she had used the ambiguous title of 'they' instead of bringing up the
Centre, which was a sign she liked their temporary truce, and was willing to
keep the peace by not venturing into dangerous territory. Her tone lig light
and friendly, also a good sign.

"I only bring it for out for special occasions," he said softly.

She almost blushed. He figured she was on the verge of it, on the point
before an *actual* flush of pleasure at his subtle flattery, and by the sudden
way she composed and controlled her expression, he knew that she was purposely
inhibiting her natural responses. And that was not what he wanted. Jarod
wanted her to lose that control, to forget that inhibition and respond to him
without censor. But he knew it would take time, and he was prepared to be
patient. He had to lay a foundation before he could begin construction, after
all.

"I have to go to the bathroom," he said conversationally. Miss Parker stood up
abruptly, distancing herself from him and the personal tone of their
conversation.

"Alright, but quickly, and no smart moves," she warned, and tossed Jarod the key
again.

He unlocked himself, climbing off the bed and padding barefoot to the
bathroom, Miss Parker right behind him. He paused in the threshold, glancing
back with amusement. "Are you going to follow me in as well?" he asked, and
this time she did flush.

"Of course not," she said irritably.

Jarod closed the door behind him, and looked around the small bathroom.
There was a small shower cubicle, a small basin with a cabinet mirror above it,
a wooden chair and a toilet. One tiny window above the toilet. Thoughtfully,
he opened the cabinet, his eyes cataloguing what was on the shelves. A bar of
soap, some cotton buds, a bottle of aspirin, a tube of toothpaste that looked
less than healthy, some talcum powder and a bottle of baby oil. Jarod blinked.
Baby oil?

"Could work..." he mused to himself, shutting the mirrored door to the cabinet,
quickly using the facilities and washing his hands.


"Master The Art Of Insinuation"


When he opened the bathroom door again, Miss Parker was bent over her bag,
rummaging through it. He gripped the top of the doorframe with his hands,
stretching his arms above his head, and leaned forward slightly. "What are you
looking for?" he asked, his voice low and husky. Miss Parker straightened up,
spinning around to face him, her gun held up.

It happened again. Her eyes raked over his body, from his mussed hair and
sleepy expression, down his naked chest, skating briefly over the shorts that
suggested more than they concealed, down over his tanned legs, then back up to
his eyes, and her face went *blank*. Jarod smiled slightly, flexing his arms
slightly so the muscles on his chest rippled just a little.

"Miss Parker?" he asked.

"Uh... just...noth-nothing," she said, tearing her gaze away from him and back
to her bag. She bent down to zip it up again, turning her back on him.

Jarod padded silently to stand behind her, and when she straightened up,
he placed his hands on her shoulders, causing her to start nervously. "Shhh,"
he said soothingly, "You're so jumpy. Now, what were you looking for?"

He gently rubbed her shoulders, keeping the movement light and non-
threatening. Miss Parker shivered under his touch, reflexively tightening her
grip on her gun. "Just... just some anti-inflammatory tablets. I think I
strained my shoulders chopping the wood before," she whispered.

Jarod almost laughed aloud with glee. Instead, he shifted his hands a
little, kneading the muscles around the back of her neck and shoulders with his
thumbs. "Here?" he asked, and Miss Parker let out a soft sigh.

"That feels... good," she said, her tone wary.

He went slowly, aware of the need to put her at ease, concentrating on the
knotted muscles around her neck and shoulders. He massaged with long fingers,
feeling her muscles slowly loosen and relax under his touch, although her guard
was not completely down. When he felt she was relaxed to a sufficient degree,
he stepped even closer, so his chest was now brushing her back, raising his
hands and slowly rubbing her temples.

"You know, Miss Parker," Jarod said in a low, intimate tone, "The face and scalp
is the most commonly neglected area in massage, and yet they most often provide
the greatest release."

She gave no answer, just let out a jagged breath as he threaded one hand
into her hair, gently massaging her scalp. With his other hand he began to
explore the delicate planes of her face, letting his fingers trail across her
forehead, down once side of her face, tracing the curve of her jaw and finally
running his thumb across her soft lips. He leaned forward a little, so his
mouth was brushing her ear, whispering, "I think it's a very good idea to
release pent up *tension*, don't you, Miss Parker?"

"Yes," she breathed, so quietly he could hardly hear it.

Jarod edged a little closer, so he was now pressed against her. He
brushed her hair to one side, leaving his mouth clear access to her ear, and
then slowly slid his arm around her waist, leaving his other hand cradling her
cheek. He drew her against him, and there was a brief moment of resistance,
before Parker was quiet and pliant against him, her eyes drifting closed.

"I could give you a massage, you know," he murmured, "To relieve the pain, to
ease your... tension. How long has it been since someone gave you a good, hard
*massage*?"

Miss Parker shivered against him, and Jarod had to restrain from smiling
openly at her reaction. "Too long," she said softly, leaning into his embrace a
little bit. Jarod tucked her even more firmly against him, half aware of the
fact that her proximity, her soft body pressed so tightly against him, was
causing a stirring in his groin.

"Would you like a massage?" Jarod asked, "I'm very good, just what you
*need*..."

"How do you know what I need?" Miss Parker asked, her voice soft and dreamy.

Jarod chuckled warmly, stroking her cheek with long fingers. His mouth
brushed the shell of her ear as he spoke, "Because what you need, is what *I*
need, Miss Parker." He clutched her even tighter, able to feel the shallow pace
of her breathing, and he inhaled deeply, catching the faint scent of wood smoke
and perfume.

"Are we still talking about a massage?" Parker asked, turning her head to look
up at him, and Jarod was conscious that their mouths were very close together.

"What else?" he asked innocently.

Miss Parker said nothing, wide-eyed and serious. Jarod lowered his face a
little, so their noses were practically bumping, knowing she had to be aware of
how hard he was against her, knowing she was being drawn deeper and deeper into
his illusion - and yet had not let down her guard completely yet. She still
held her gun rather tightly, after all.

Jarod released her suddenly, withdrawing his arms so quickly she wavered
on her feet. He circled around her, so they stood face to face, and crowded
forward, so she had to crane her face up to see him. He smiled, very slowly,
and watched her eyes dilate a little, her lips parting just a bit. He ran a
finger down her jaw line.

"Tell me, Miss Parker, haven't you always wanted the type of massage that only I
could provide?" he asked.

Parker said nothing, and did not resist as he pulled her slowly into his
arms. Her hands went up, her gun resting flat against his chest as he leaned
forward, keeping her gaze. Jarod turned his head, going very slowly, letting
her see him coming as his mouth descended on hers. He could practically taste
her, and was just on the verge of brushing his mouth against hers, when he heard
the safety on her gun click off.

Jarod paused, letting his eyes shift sideways, so he could see the muzzle
of her gun next to his temple out of the edge of his vision. He returned his
gaze to Miss Parker's, and let out a soft chuff of amusement. He hadn't even
felt the gun leave his chest. "Another time, then?" he asked softly, and
grinned briefly.

He backed off an inch or so, but didn't let her go. Her breathing was
still shallow, and something akin to desperation flickered in her eyes as she
cocked her head in the direction of the bed. "On the bed. Handcuff yourself,"
she said. Jarod gave her a little squeeze, so his erection pressed against her
belly.

"Just too *hard* to handle, Miss Parker?" he asked cheerfully.

Parker said nothing, licking her lips nervously. Jarod gave a little nod,
releasing her slowly and backing away. Her body seemed to slump without him,
but she trained her gun on him, watching him climb back onto the bed and cuff
his right hand again. He gave her a playful wink as he modestly pulled the
blanket over the tent in his boxer shorts. Parker looked away, her face
flaming.

Jarod was not in the least surprised when she spun away, almost running
into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. Despite her bravado and
resistance using her gun, he decided, he was getting somewhere.


"Stir up transgressive and taboo"


Jarod was bored. "Forty-seven bottles of beer on the wall, forty-seven
bottles of beer..." he sang under his th. th. Miss Parker had been in the
bathroom for almost forty minutes now. He wondered what she was doing, and more
importantly, what she was thinking. He sighed, starting to sing again, a little
louder, "Take one down, pass it around, forty-six bottles of beer on the
wall..."

The door opened, and Miss Parker stood in the doorway, holding her gun
clasped to her chest in an extremely defensive pose. She eyed Jarod warily, her
eyes flicking up to the handcuffs, to the blanket that covered him, to the fire,
which was dying down. She looked everywhere but directly at him.

"Miss Parker, whatpenspens when there are no more bottles of beer on the wall?"
Jarod asked.

She didn't answer, instead turning away and hurrying into the kitchen.
Jarod frowned. He had come on a little strong with the attempted kiss, and now
she was spooked. He would have to repair this problem soon, otherwise they
wouldn't be able to move forward.

Miss Parker began opening a can of soup, and Jarod realised he was a
little hungry. She heated the soup in a pot on the stove, refusing to look at
him the whole time. When the soup was ready she poured it into two mugs, and
came to sit beside him on the bed, leaving her gun on the kitchen bench and
still not meeting his gaze.

"Thankyou," Jarod murmured, accepting a mug of soup.

It was vegetable and beef, and smelled wonderful. He sipped carefully,
still watching Parker. She seemed very uncomfortable under his gaze, and was
twisted away from him, eating her soup with a spoon.

Jarod finished his soup very quickly, and leant forward to touch Miss
Parker's shoulder, intending to thank her for the soup. She whirled around at
his touch, obviously startled, fumbling the cup in her hands, and they both
watched as the cup tipped, spilling soup all over Jarod's chest. It didn't
burn, but it was hot, causing him to suck in a sharp breath at the sensation.
Miss Parker raised her eyes to his, looking miserable. She took both their cups
without a word, setting them on the floor, disappearing into the bathroom and
returning with a wet cloth.

"Here, let me..." she said awkwardly, sitting on the bed again. She dabbed at
his chest, trying to gather up all the moisture, and Jarod squirmed
uncomfortably as some trickled down his ribs.

"Oh man, I've got carrot in my belly button," he said, and chuckled, picking it
out and flicking it away. His hands knocked Miss Parker's.

"Sorry-"

"Sorry-" they both said at the same time.

Miss Parker brushed his nipple with the cold cloth, and Jarod let out a
soft sound of pleasure. He covered her hand with his own, guiding the cloth to
catch up the last of the soup, and then gently pulled her hand away, so the
cloth dropped onto the bed. Miss Parker watched silently as he replaced their
hands on his chest, her naked palm now resting over his heart.

"Jarod-" she said, and stopped abruptly.

He slid his hand down to her wrist, holding it delicately as he watched
her. His touch was light, but he managed to take her pulse in the long silence
that fell between them. Her heart rate was accelerated, her breathing
relatively shallow, her pupils dilated and her mouth parted slightly - all
indications of arousal.

Very slowly, keeping her eyes trained on her own hand, Parker let her hand
wander up, smoothing across the crisp curls on his chest, pushing up to the
curve of his shoulder, stroking along to his neck, which she caressed gently for
a moment, then sliding down the centre of his chest, down over his abdomen, and
pausing under his belly button, just above the blanket that was covering his
lap. Finally, she raised her eyes to look at him.

Jarod gave her the slightest encouraging smile. This was the only move
she had initiated all night - a good sign, showing that she was more receptive
than ever. He picked up her hand, holding her palm up and pressing a gentle
kiss to it.

"Truce?" he asked, and by the flicker in her eyes, knew she understood that it
was more than just a ceasefire he was proposing.