Without a Trace

Jack/Sam

PG-13/R

*****

The Mere Thought of Her...

from Midnight Caller 

The mere thought of her crept at his flesh, goose bumps accompanying the memory as it passed through his mind. He swore he could smell her right next to him, a deeper inhale revealing the intimate secondary scents that he would have sampled just hours earlier.

Convinced that her taste still lingered in his mouth, his tongue swirled around to lap up every last bit of her flavor. Clenching his hands, he remembered the fit of his palms against her hips, skin against skin as their perspiration threatened to undermine his grip. Oh, how he loved the soft flesh of her inner thighs, how she used to tremble when he touched her there, how as his hand moved slightly higher, a faint, desperate murmur would escape her lips...

Her lips... caressing his own, whispering his name, breathing against his ear, against his neck, around the warmth of his arousal...

He’d never forget those lips, even as he stood from a distance, watching them mouth someone else’s name.