Opposites

Jack had gotten used to the ache….sort of. A low lying need that flared up when he was alone, the continuous partial erection he couldn’t do anything about, the need running through his veins was just one more pain, one more poison. Tru was avoiding him. As much as much as was possible given their respective roles in life. His to make sure the dead stayed dead and hers to try to keep them alive. But every time he was near her, his whole body buzzed. He could hardly believe no one else noticed the static in the air between them.

He’d kept meeting with Richard, mainly to find out what the snake was up to, what he knew. Richard knew more than he was letting on and Jack intended to get it from him.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” He mumbled to himself as he looked at a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. Leaving snarky notes for each other around town like fucking high school students…God, he could think of an enemy he wanted as close to him as possible. Under him, over him, wrapped around him…he put his head in his hands and stifled a moan.

You could go to her again. The traitorous thought floated through his brain and he growled in response. She wanted him. She writhed under his touch. He would not go begging twice in a row, not even if his need was so great it killed him. In death, at least, there would be peace.

He stood. He’d said those words to himself again and again over the past month. Tonight, the words rang hollow. He paced back and forth, his skin crawling with the need to taste her.

“Fuck it.” He whispered and headed for the door. He yanked it open and stopped in shock. Tru was standing there, hands on her hips, staring at her booted feet. She looked up in surprise and Jack almost came in his pants at the look in her eyes. Her smell enveloped him and he shuddered as the world washed into normal colors. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Tru beat him to it.

He found himself knocked on his ass, with a glorious, honey-smelling armful of Tru Davies. Their mouths melded together and Jack thought he might die of bliss. The door of his apartment closed with a barely noticed crashed. She’d worn a skirt. Bless her. The world skittered back into balance as he let his hands wander up her velvety thighs. Delicious. She hadn’t worn panties. There weren’t enough gods in the world to thank. She tore at his shirt, he fumbled with his pants. He couldn’t get inside her quickly enough.

She was so wet, so swollen with need…he felt every inch of his cock sheathed in her heat and bucked with pleasure. The sounds coming out his mouth, out of her mouth, drove him wild. He dug his fingers into her hips, hoping he would leave marks, as he drove himself into her again and again. Her fingernails raked down his chest and the burn made him squirm. He snarled back at her and thrust harder.

Then she slapped him across the face. Jack froze. Then her voice, sweet as sin, was in his ear.

“Slow down, baby. Slow down.” Her breath sent shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying to get back some control. He kept his fingers dug into her hips but did not stop her when she began to grind her hips against him. One hand strayed to her core, gently stroking her nub. She moaned and threw her head back.

“My parents fought all the time.” She gasped. She spoke slowly and Jack had to struggle to concentrate on her words and not her tongue sneaking out to lick her sulky lips. “They always made up behind closed doors.”

She lifted her hips until just the tip of his cock was still inside her. She stayed there, looking at him, for far too long. Seconds. Then she dropped down fiercely and Jack let out a strangled moan.

“I think their make-up sessions sounded a lot like this.” She panted. Jack nodded. God, he was so close…he just…needed…

He grabbed her shirt, tearing it, and pulled her close so he could roll her over on her back. She squawked in protest as he rolled over her leg but she stopped as Jack began to suck and bite his way up her neck. Finally, he made it to her lips. The scent of honey was everywhere, he felt like he was drowning. He pumped into her and she cried out, her face scrunched with such pleasure.

“Your father, he’s like me.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think but it didn’t matter. It felt right. It felt balanced. She met his eyes and Jack could see the tears welling up. She blinked and turned her head away..

“My mother, she was like me.” The words were whispered and Jack ached to hear it. He drove into her again and she arched her hips up to meet him. They set a fast and furious pace. Jack buried his head in her neck, breathing in her scent, reveling in the sense of peace that echoed through him.

“Baby, please.” He whispered. She cried out, thrashing underneath him, as she came. Her pussy contracted around him, pulling his orgasm from him. He arched his back, going as deep as he could, before releasing his seed into her body.

This time, the moment of peace fled too quickly. Horror at what he had said, fear at how much he was starting to need her, chased it away. Jack pulled away and scooted backwards in panic until he hit the wall. He pulled his legs up to his chest and stared as Tru sat up, wiping tears away. He’d made her cry. Rage and resentment boiled up.

“This is so fucked up.” He sneered. Tru looked up at him and frowned. She didn’t say anything though and that made him even more nervous. She didn’t even roll her eyes.

She stood, straightening her clothes and started to leave.

“Some people have to die, Tru.” Jack bit the words out, hoping to hurt her.

“And some people need to live, Jack.” She said his name like a curse but there was no anger underneath it. Then she was gone. Jack ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

A/N I have no idea if I will be updating this story again but this chapter popped into my brain recently so I decided to write it. Hope people like it...