Meet me in Paris. You know the place. Please? He read the email and noted the request tacked on the end. As if she accepted that a time might come when he refused to drop everything he was doing, just to be with her. But he always went and it was always worth it, even if it was only for a few stolen hours or minutes.

"You feel too much, Terry," Dino had said to him once. "That heart of yours is going to get you in trouble with the wrong girl in the wrong situation." As much as Terry hated to admit it, Dino was probably correct, this time. Only she was the right girl, in so many ways. Just the situation she was in was so wrong.

He stared at the screen a bit longer as if willing her to materialize from it into the safety he could afford her, if she'd only let him. But she had said there was no protection for her but to keep on the move and stay a step ahead of her predators. There's always someone better at the game than you are, Terry. Still, she took the risk of meeting him, to touch base and get news of those she could not live with endangering, and to give him brief, bittersweet love before instinct took over and she had to run, again.

His answer, after checking out the flight schedule from London to Paris, was a short: Tomorrow. Watch for me.

From the Charles de Gaulle terminals he took a taxi to the Palace de Foutre tucked away in the side streets around the back of Notre Dame. Of all the places in the world she could meet him without being noticed by anyone of any import, she had chosen this. The man taking tickets hardly looked at him when he paid his entry and slipped inside to the dark corner on his left. Ignoring the sticky sucking noises the residue of spilled and dried liquids made under his shoes, he took a seat where he could see everything and her, when she entered the dim theater. He'd chosen the earliest show, when the fewest patrons would occupy the seats around. Other than himself, there was only a handful of men spread around the room to get as much privacy for their disparate activities as they could get.

The show started, a sex-romp without plot, with a gorgeous girl stuck on a cross-country tram ride with two less than stellar male passengers. But as porn fare goes, she of course was not particular about her partners' physical beauty, just needed relief from boredom and pent-up libido. All that mattered was that they were very well endowed elsewhere. Just as the men talked (without much effort) the woman into a threesome, and the sounds of flies being unzipped reached his ears, the door opened letting in light from the lobby.

Heads turned to make sure it wasn't management trying in vain to control their masturbatory appreciation for the picture, and some continued to look when they realized it was a woman arriving in the room. One close to her grabbed for her hand and propositioned her in French to sit close to him. Her curt answer, and the hard stare that accompanied it told him she was here with someone else and not interested in inviting a third party. Terry examined her from where he was; the long coat covered long, dancer's legs and a supple upper body that he could describe in his sleep. Her bare ankles were exposed below the hem, as were delicate features framed by short, punk-burgundy hair that had been blonde, the last time she had met him here.

The movie played on, and she let the occasional dull-white brilliance of lighter shots guide her eyes until she picked him out in the corner. A slight breath then she joined him, a sweet, sad smile playing on lips that he ached to kiss. The film had done little to turn him on, but knowing how this meeting was going to end was helping to change that, considerably.

Over the arm of the theater seat, they held each other for a few minutes. Terry was the first to draw away, searching her face for signs that she might be at the end of her ability to hide forever. "You look exhausted."

"You look great." 

"Are you okay?" A thumb caressed her cheek, worry its message. 

"I'm fine. Almost seen by an old customer of Miguel's two days ago in Prague, but managed to get lost before he could recognize me. Been hiding out here, ever since." Her hand covered his, squeezing gently, assuring.

"Is that what this is all about?" His fingers strayed to the purple-red dye job that had yet to fade out from repeated washings.

"Partially. And I got tired of my real color. How is my father doing? And how are you?" She was good at that: switching the topic from herself and the cat-mouse showdown she was playing with her own husband, to her father and to him.

"Your father is fine. Scared for you, willing to buy you the best protection in the world, if you'd just listen to sense and let us do our jobs. I'm good."

"Terry, I'll be okay. I just have to end this my own way. I can't rely on anyone else. Next time you email Dad, just tell him I love him and not to trust that bitch he married." She leaned into him to nuzzle his nose with her own. "You worry too much."

"It's a fucking dangerous game you're playing, Jade." 

"Yep." The woman in the film had a grip on one man's cock and was jacking him off while the other was releasing his from his pants, for her to suck. Green eyes that gave Jade her nickname casually flickered to the screen, watched the actors for a moment then rested again on Terry, and her smile widened into a lascivious grin that threatened to distract him from drilling her over the choices she was making to stay alive. She became serious again. "Terry, look. There's going to come a time when I will give you myself, and it won't be the drive-through version. It'll be the full-course spread. I just want you to know that I think about you and never forget what you did for me. And that if I had to do it all over again, starting before I met Miguel, I'd hope it was you that I found, first. Can you live with that, a while longer? If not, let me know now, and I will never again email you and put you through this." She waited.

"I just hate that you won't let me do anything for you." 

"You do something for me. You keep in contact with my father, and you remind me I'm not alone in this. I just don't want you in any further. You have no idea how far Miguel's arms reach. And believe me, Luthan Risk won't compromise their ties to some of his clients to save your ass, if you cross him any more than you have." He knew she was right and kissed her forehead in acquiescence.

"Fine. There are a dozen ways I could get rid of that mother-fucker for you, but if you want to be stubborn..." The rest was cut off by the teasing of his lips with hers and the tip of her tongue seeking access to the interior of his mouth.

"Let's just enjoy the movie, okay?" Around them, the sounds of men already taking pleasure in the action in front of them was adding to the poor soundtrack.

The girl in the film was being turned over on her belly across the seats of the tramcar, while one of her companions mounted her, pushing into her upturned pussy. The other man stroked himself while he watched them go at it in over-cliched porn frenzy, moans and whimpers hollow and fake as the camera panned in and out in time with the slide of the first man's cock. Neither Terry nor Jade paid attention; their focus was on letting the world slide away while they lived in a moment of singular need of their own.

While their tongues met and danced over each other and under, Terry found the tie that fastened Jade's coat, undoing the knot to reveal the very short, filmy dress she'd worn for the occasion.

"All access," he giggled against her shoulder as he nudged the filament-thin straps off for his eager teeth to nip at her exposed shoulders and neck, and slowly ran a palm up the insides of her thighs to what they hid between them. No panties. "Ah, Christ. Jade..."

"A girl should be prepared for any emergency."

"Is this an emergency?"

"You tell me," she whispered low as she traced the lines of his prim mouth and rugged chin with its perfect cleft in a fairy-light caress. He laced her straying fingers within his and after kissing them, trailed them over the buttons of his shirt to the fly of his jeans so she could feel for herself just what a plight he was in. And if she didn't stop teasing the outline of his hard-on, it was going to be a dire situation, for sure. The noise of slurping, as the actress began to blow her other partner, stole a tiny portion of Jade's concentration and she shook her head at the star's 'technique'.

"The porn-star bop," Terry grunted.

"That sounds like something your friend would call it."

"He did."

Jade collapsed laughing into his chest, then turned her eyes up to his. "That's gross." She eyed the package she covered, extending her touch to include his balls. She reveled in the way he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the thread-bare cloth of the back of the chair and sighed in ecstasy while she kneaded tiny circles over his anatomy. "Do you need a reminder of what a real blow-job is?" Already she was kneeling on the come-sticky floor between his knees, reaching for the buttons of his pants.

"Baby, this floor is disgusting." He grabbed his jacket to provide a barrier between her skin and the filth.

"Is that a 'yes'?" She didn't even wait for the answer before prying her prize out of its prison of denim. And only denim. "Looks like I'm not the only one who travels light." Her nails raked through red-gold curls visible in the V of his open jeans.

"Emergency preparations," he breathed, as she found the spot on his pelvis that nearly made him come, then.

There were no gurgling whines to accompany Jade's administration to his cock when she kissed the tip and worked her way over the thick head, nibbling and sucking at the ridge, pausing at the tiny opening to catch the drop waiting for her to taste. A moan that reverberated seemingly into the pit of the taut muscles of Terry's stomach encouraged her to nibble down the sides, slowly, letting her teeth barely graze and tickle the column along the ridge and gently chew the base in the skin between it and his ball sac. Terry arched up enough to allow her to slide his jeans over his hips, praying management did not choose that moment to walk in and do a check of the audience.

Ah, her Terry was all man. It was in the musk of his scent and in the muscles that tensed in his thighs when she hit a particularly sensitive spot during her feast on his cock. Unlike her counterpart in the film playing behind her head, Jade didn't have to look up to make sure she was pleasing her man. It was in his grip on the arms of the chair and in the guttural whispers of encouragement and direction when he begged her to slip it in her mouth and suck it. But she preferred to play, teasing it with her lips and tracing the patterns of veins with her tongue while she hefted his testicles and tickled his haunches.

"Honey..." A hoarse plea from above reached her ears, and the need in the sea-smattered eyes that pierced through her moved her to mercy. It was a few moments of fellated bliss for Terry while she worked his cock slow and wet, the strength of her tongue as it pulled up and down against his skin causing it to tremble in desire and anticipation for the other tunnel it wished to explore. He plunged his hands into her hair to set her rhythm, but she shook them free so they found softer playthings in her breasts, ripe and full and waiting for his fingers to stroke them into the first stages of her own passion.

"This is not going to last, if you don't quit," she advised, leaving off, licking her way down to the base to draw in his balls one at a time, rolling each on her tongue.

"Fuck, this won't last if you don't stop doing what you're doing, either," he panted in reply.

"C'mon, Thorne. Show a little backbone. Where's that self-control you're so proud of?"

"I left it at home with the rest of my tools."

"That's okay. The only tool you need is a good screw, anyway."

"You're a naughty girl."

"Uh,huh." She was getting up, straddling his knees while the all-but-forgotten movie showed the players positioning themselves into a huddle, the woman sandwiched between her partners, riding one's cock as the other prepared to enter her via the back door. Jade kissed Terry on the chin and then on the nose. "I am. But I don't want this to be just a fuck, okay? I want to make love to you."

"This place is hardly conducive to that." But even as he complained, he was scooting down so that she could sit astride his lap.

"No, I know. Can't risk it anywhere else, though."

"How about a hotel? I'll get one."

"Cameras. Ledgers. Computers. You're being watched too, you know. Look," she leaned forward to capture his kiss and his arms wrapped around her, protective and strong, "this is a shit-hole, but it's relatively safe. They aren't going to follow you in here. Okay?" His answer was a nod while he inhaled her tongue and her scent, pulling the hem of her little dress up around her waist, hands grasping for her hips to lift her onto his aching erection. The sighs and whimpers of the woman on the screen drowned out her gasp when his length glided inside her, but he could read it in her face and the way she bit her lower lip.

The pulse of her around him set the rhythm of their insane dance. He was content to let her lead, and she took them on a slow tango. She rocked back and forth on him, slow and long, letting her muscles tighten on him and pull. While she worked them below, he feasted on her breasts, shimmying the dress over them and down to join the bunched up hem. Her hands were under his shirt, winding through the fur of his stomach and teasing nipples as she kissed at the hair revealed by undone buttons.

A shriek followed by a giggle then a moan reached them from the film and Jade caught Terry watching it over her shoulder. The man using the actress' ass had pulled out and was ejaculating over her while the other man came up behind her, to finish her orgasm and his. Jade grinned at the sheepish look that stole over Terry's face and raised up to turn around.

"Here, you watch this." She faced the screen and re-inserted his cock so that it hit new and more sensitive areas of her passage and so she could simulate what was going on up there, since it seemed to grab his attention so much. Resuming her pace, she felt Terry's hands move around her to settle on her breasts and find their way to her clit, massaging, causing her to ride faster. Rolling her head back, she let the liquid warmth of impending release spread through her and recede back to that spot where his thick fingers loved her. She was panting and his cock was brushing her walls, making them tingle in the effort to send him crashing with her into rapturous culmination.

"Fuck me," he whispered, watching himself disappear inside her, then reappear with every slide of her pussy on him. She was leaned forward on the back of chair ahead of them and his view was clear. He was paying no attention to the characters at the front of the theater; his concentration was on Jade and making them both come. He felt her first shudders course through her and the irregular hitch of her breath, signaling her readiness. He thrust up into her, matching her downward plunge and when she cried, it was drowned out by the screams of the girl she watched through half-seeing eyes and the grunts of men pumping their juices onto the seats, the floor, themselves. Terry came inside Jade, filling her with himself, pulling her back to hold her and soothe her as she calmed down, before she could sneak away into the night as she would. Her fingers intertwined with his and she lay against his chest, happy when his breathing returned to normal and shut out the knowledge that soon, she would have to run again.

While the movie ended, Terry and Jade righted their clothing and snuggled together as close as the seats would let them. Terry nuzzled her hair and she examined his hands, thinking how she liked the shape of them and how safe they felt to hold. Her poor Terry. He deserved better than to hang around while she waited for her moment to end her troubles.

"You don't need to run."

"Quit reading my mind, Terry."

"Let me look after you. Let me take care of it."

"You can't. You're a guppy in a school of sharks. They'd eat you alive."

A sigh. "Just be careful."

"I always am."

"Movie's over."

"I know. I guess I better go."

"Yeah." A squeeze for good luck and worry. For assurance that he would always come for her, if she asked. "I love you. Please don't forget that."

"I love you. I won't." Then she was gone, down past masturbation-exhausted men to the back door of the theater. Back to her cat and mouse game.

A year went by, without a word from her. Nothing. The thud of the morning paper hitting its target on his door woke Terry from dreams of her. Yawning and scratching, he read the headlines twice to comprehend.

Drug Lord Murdered in Miami Home. Miguel Cardoza, 31, of Miami, was found dead from gunshot wounds to the head in his Florida home. Police...no suspects have been disclosed...possibly survived by his wife, Jennifer, 27, believed to have been missing since...

 

Jennifer. Jade. He sat down at his laptop and pulled up his email. One new message.

Meet me in Paris. This time for keeps.