The Barman, the Thieves and the Lover

Once again Jette ventures into the world of adult literature, thowing wide the curtains for all to see. If my own particular obsessions show here - well, it's hardly surprising!

This story is a kind of follow up to Flood of Passion. Comments were made about Jacqui being "too good to throw away on a one shot" - and indeed here she is.

Disclaimers - I don't own Joe, Duncan or Methos, or indeed any Highlander character. Jacqui is mine, shy, mixed up and confused as she is. I don't make any money out of this (and it keeps distracting me from finishing the ones that I might make money out of ) but I have a lot of fun. So does my husband - when I do the research BTW, the bathroom in Jacqui's apartment is roughly based on a real one belonging to a fellow HL fan - I merely added one or two touches for Joe's sake.

The Barman, the Thieves and the Lover

by Jette Goldie

"And that's final!" declared the woman.

Joe Dawson sighed. "You're being unreasonable, Jacqui honey. Adam," he appealed to the man sitting a few feet away, "tell her she's being unreasonable."

Methos shook his head, smiling wryly. "Oh no. The last time I got involved in a lovers' spat, Dawson, I damn near lost my head."

"Joe, don't go involving your friends," the woman snapped. "I won't move in with you; and that's my last word on the subject." So saying she stalked angrily from the bar, leaving the two men staring after her.

"You asked her to move in?" queried Methos. "Isn't that a bit sudden? You've known her, what? Three weeks?"

Joe's chin jutted stubbornly as he retorted. "Four and a half. It's no more sudden than you and Alexa." Then his shoulders slumped as he realised what had said. "Sorry," he apologised

The Immortal shrugged. "Alexa and I didn't have the leisure to wait, Joe. As far as I'm aware, neither you nor Jacqui will be dying any time soon. Why the hurry?"

Joe sighed. "It's that hotel she's staying in. It's costing a her fortune and she has limited resources."

"So you suggested she move in with you?"

Joe shrugged. "She wants to move anyway - a cheaper hotel or a small apartment of her own. I just thought it would save her even more money and a lot of trouble if she moved into my place."

Methos frowned thoughtfully to himself. "But even if she has spent every night since she arrived in town at your house, she hasn't been living with you. She has her own space. I'd say she needs that. Didn't you say that the last man she lived with treated her badly?"

Joe nodded, frowning. "I hadn't thought about that," he admitted. "I just wish she wasn't so damned independent - even though that is one of the things I love about her."

Jacqui sorted through the bag that had been returned to her by the hotel laundry. The fabric felt scratchy to her skin and she hated the scent the detergent left behind. She longed to wash everything again herself; but you couldn't do a decent washing in a bathroom handbasin and hotels hated it when you draped clothes to dry across their radiators.

She was hungry but she hadn't ordered anything from room service yet. She hadn't decided whether or not to venture down to Joe's for dinner; hadn't decided whether she was finished being mad at him or not.

He was right, and she knew it. Her redundancy money wouldn't last forever. If she was living frugally it would last her some time - at least long enough to find another job, or she could have used it to try to set up a business of her own - but no, she had to blow the lot on a holiday.

It would be so easy to take Joe up on his offer. Too easy. What she felt for Joe she had never felt in her life before. Part of her wanted to spend every moment possible in his presence; part of her was terrified at the thought.

A knock at the hotel room door derailed her train of thought.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Adam Pierson."

Adam? Joe's young friend? What could he want here? "Just a moment," she called. She shoved the litter of clothing off the bed and into the nearby drawers before opening the door.

He slouched there outside the door, leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his long coat.

"Hi, hope you don't mind me dropping in," he greeted her. "Can I come in?"

She shrugged and held the door open a little wider, gesturing for him to come inside.

"To what do I owe the honour?" she enquired, a little sarcastically. "Did Joe send you?"

"Joe doesn't know I'm here," he replied. "He did tell me why you two were fighting however."

"And have you come to talk me into moving in with him?"

He shook his head. "I've come to offer you an alternative. One of my neighbours has had to go abroad for a few months. I've been keeping an eye on the apartment for her but she really wanted a flat-sitter. I spoke to her and she has agreed that in return for your services as such, you can have the run of the place. It's a good deal more spacious than this," he gestured around the small hotel room, "and in a better neighbourhood than anything you could probably afford otherwise."

She sat carefully on the bed while considering his offer.

"Why would you do that for me?"

"Because I'd like to see the course of true love run smoothly," he answered, with a smile.

Joe Dawson looked around the apartment. "It's very.spartan, isn't it?" he remarked.

Jacqui shrugged. "Maybe Adam's friend is into Minimalism? At least there's a bed."

"A big bed," he agreed.

"A very big bed," she grinned.

"And no sofa," he grinned in return.

"No chairs either - except those stools at the breakfast bar in the kitchen," she giggled.

He chuckled. "So, ah, where shall we sit?"

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Not in the kitchen," she replied.

They lay together in the bed, her head on his shoulder, while he drew lazy patterns on her bare skin with a fingertip. Jacqui seemed strangely quiet and withdrawn.

"Are you coming down to the club tonight?" he asked.

She sighed and cuddled closer. "Not tonight. I want to do some laundry; get some clothes fit to wear."

He chuckled. "I like what you're wearing now just fine," he told her.

To his surprise she didn't laugh in return. Instead she stiffened against him and rose suddenly from the bed, wrapping a robe tightly around her body.

"Jacqui? Is there something wrong?"

"I have a lot to do tonight, Joe," she informed him. "Maybe you should go."

He pulled himself upright in the bed. "What did I say?"

She shook herself. "Nothing," she snapped.

"Sweetheart? You're angry. I must have said something."

Dammit! He was trapped in this bed unless he put his prostheses back on. At home his wheelchair sat by his bedside so that he could be mobile without the bother.

Jacqui busied herself at the washing machine, her face turned away and her expression hidden from him. "Just go, Joe," she said flatly. He was sure he heard tears in her voice.

"I still don't know what I said," Dawson complained.

"Don't you?" queried Methos. "You told a woman, who has a more than usually fragile sense of self-worth, that you prefer her naked and in bed, and you don't know what you did wrong? I expected better of you, Dawson."

It was a 'doh!' moment for Joe. "Ack!" he muttered. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're human," replied MacLeod. "You make mistakes, same as everyone else."

The Watcher nodded. "I have to apologise to her. How do I do that? Help me out, guys."

"Not me," Methos retorted. "I've given you enough help with your love life already. I got her here, found her an apartment."

"Yeah, and in a good neighbourhood too. Thanks for that. Not a lot of furniture in it though."

"I guess most of it's in storage," muttered the oldest Immortal.

MacLeod smirked. "I thought you rented that whole building because it was empty? You didn't want neighbours, you said."

"All right, I admit it. I didn't have time to get the place furnished properly," the older man confessed. "Just don't tell her. Tell her the good furniture is in storage and we can find some pieces to use for now."

"You old romantic, Methos!" laughed MacLeod. "Tell, you what, Joe, I have an old sofa she can use and a table or two."

With a wry smile, the mortal ducked his head in thanks. "But first I've got to get her to talk to me again."

His friend nodded thoughtfully. "Flowers are good, Joe. Flowers are always good. Roses."

"Roses?" exclaimed Methos. "How cliched, MacLeod. Anyway, roses have come to imply sexual desire - and that's exactly what he has to avoid."

"And you suggest what?" enquired the Highlander.

Methos grinned. "Surely you remember the Language of Flowers?"

The younger Immortal laughed. "Oh boy! I'd be hard pushed to remember more than a few of them. There were hundreds of combinations."

"Luckily I have a book," grinned the older man.

Jacqui puzzled over the parcel she had received. There was no return address, no name. It had to be from Joe - who apart from him and Adam knew she was here? Yet, why would he send her a book? Such an old book? What on earth was 'Floragraphy'? She put it to one side as she packed the suitcase.

"Do you know the trouble I had finding most of those 'flowers'?" Joe was complaining bitterly. "Most of the florists I called laughed and called them 'weeds'."

"Popcorn?" interjected Duncan MacLeod. "Did you have any luck getting what you wanted though? Need some help?"

"Thanks. Nah, eventually I found a nursery that knew what I was talking about. First I sent Loosestrife, then Cleavers and Burdock."

"Apology, tenacity and persistence," Methos murmured. "Interesting choices. But I think you had better step up the pace, Dawson, before she leaves town."

"What? She can't!" Dawson protested.

"Oh yes she can," the other replied. "I know it has taken some time, but the replacements finally came through for the air tickets she lost in the 'quake. I spoke to her earlier today. She said she wanted to go home before her money ran out completely- thought she'd made a mistake blowing it on a holiday."

"I've got to stop her!"

"Whoa, sit down, Joe," exclaimed MacLeod. "There's nothing you can do tonight. Even with a full ticket, she won't be able to leave for a few days. Plus there are no direct flights from here to the UK, so she still has to book a connecting flight to somewhere that does."

"That won't take her long."

"Long enough. Relax, Joe. Tonight you just concentrate on watching the action in the ring."

The woman tapped lightly on the door and swallowed nervously. Adam was Joe's friend and had encouraged their relationship at every turn. How would he feel when she told him that she had made a mistake?

"Jacqui!" the young man greeted her cheerfully. "What can I do for you today?"

"Hello, Adam. Er, I just wanted to tell you that I'll be leaving tomorrow. I'm driving to Chicago. I managed to get a flight home booked for Friday but every connecting flight out of Seacouver seems to be fully booked until Saturday."

"Hmm, how, ah, unfortunate. You couldn't rearrange your flight until after that?"

She shrugged. "I might be able to; but I just want to get home. Tell Joe I'm sorry. It's all my fault but it just wasn't working out."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked gently. "Jacqui, I thought you and Joe were good together. I know Joe felt you were good together. Shouldn't you at least tell him yourself?"

She blushed. "I can't," she confessed. He took her hand and held it between both of his.

"Then perhaps you should think again about your decision."

The bar was crowded when the woman entered. Though she was dry-eyed now, she looked as though she would burst into tears at any moment.

"Jacqui? Joe was by her side instantly. "Are you all right?"

"Oh Joe!" she cried, flinging herself into his arms. "I didn't want to come here but I didn't know where else to turn."

"What's wrong?" He led her to a table and signalled for the waitress to bring two coffees.

She buried her head in his shoulder. "I don't know what to do. I was doing some last minute shopping today." she hesitated, before muttering, "I suppose Adam told you I was intending to leave tomorrow?"

He nodded.

"Well, while I was shopping, someone stole my handbag - and then I found my car had been stolen. I reported it to the police, and then got home to find the flat had been burgled. The police are puzzled - there was no sign of a forced entry."

"They must have got your keys when they stole your purse."

She shook her head emphatically. "That's just it, Joe. My keys weren't in my bag! They were here," she showed him the snap fastener attached to her jeans belt loop.

"And there was hardly anything taken from the flat, except my cash reserve, my replacement air tickets; and the photocopies of the air tickets I made in case I lost them again.

"Plus I seem to have attracted a weirdo or something.someone's been sending me bunches of weeds for the last few days. Anonymously. I have to leave town."

He choked with laughter. "Weeds? I'm afraid that was me, Jacqui. Didn't you get the book I sent you?"

"The book? I got a book - I thought it had to be from you; but I couldn't understand why you sent it."

"You didn't read it then?" he pressed. "It would have explained the flowers. Darn! It was M.Adam's idea. Floragraphy - the language of flowers."

Methos had hardly had time to place his elbows on the bar counter when Joe collared him.

"I have to speak to you. Jacqui is here and she's very upset. Was it your idea to steal her purse, car and burgle her apartment?"

"Me?" the Immortal exclaimed, an innocent look on his face. "Why would I do that?"

Joe wagged a scolding finger. "Because she's now effectively stranded in the city. No air tickets, no car, no credit cards to hire another."

The other shrugged. "Do I look like a petty thief? I will admit that it is a happy coincidence. Now you have time to persuade her she doesn't really want to leave."

"Dammit, Methos! Not like this! The poor girl's in a terrible state."

"Her tickets will be replaced, as will her credit cards. The car I paid for - I can get her another and she doesn't really need it in town. Anything else missing?"

Joe shrugged. "Not much," he admitted. "Most of her personal things were already lost in the 'quake. Some money."

"Much?"

"Two hundred dollars."

"Pocket change."

"Not to her."

"It's not as if we would let her starve."

"She doesn't know that."

"So reassure her."

"I can't do that! She'd suspect my motives."

"Let me."

"I suspect your motives!"

The young looking man laughed. "I'm not about to steal your woman, Dawson. Nor did I steal her purse or her car."

"I notice you didn't say anything about her air tickets."

That got a shrug. "You should be using the time MacLeod and I bought you."

"I should have known that damn Scotsman was involved!"

"Can I refill that for you?"

Jacqui looked up from her empty cup. "Hello, Adam. Did Joe tell you what happened to me today?"

"He mentioned," the young man replied, as he poured the dark liquid into the cup. "Drink your coffee - I added a secret ingredient especially for you in your time of trouble."

She sipped cautiously and smiled suddenly. "That's lovely! What is it?"

"Kahlua," he told her. "I know you like those White Russians, so I thought you might like to try the liqueur in something else."

"I do like it," she smiled.

"Good. Drink up; we have a whole pot here."

"Try this one," Adam pushed the shot glass across the table. Jacqui did not bother to sip by this time; she took a large mouthful and savoured the flavour.

"Cherries!" she announced.

"Right. Kirsch. Danish black cherry liqueur. Like it?"

The woman tilted her head slightly in consideration. "It's very sweet," she decided.

He nodded agreement. "A bit sickly. We'll move onto something else when you finish that glass."

She giggled. "I never knew it could be so much fun to drink. I always though alcohol tasted nasty before."

He grinned. "I'm pleased to be able to add to your education, milady."

Joe heard the cheerful peal of feminine laughter, followed by Methos's deeper chuckle. Then he noticed the litter of empty shot glasses on the table.

He approached the table. "Jacqui?" he murmured. "What's going on?"

She grinned blearily up at him. "Hi Joe! Adam's 'educating' me."

The Immortal smirked. "We're trying to find her something else to drink besides that milkshake she favours. She doesn't like bourbon or gin and tonic, we discovered."

"But I did like the 'Sex on the Beach'," she giggled. "And that other one - what did you call it, Adam?"

"A 'Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against A Wall'," he replied. This sent the woman into another peal of giggles.

"How many have you had?" the Watcher demanded, aghast.

She waved an unsteady hand at the empty glasses before her. "The waitress cleared the table a while ago."

He counted. "That many? You don't usually drink much. How are you feeling?"

She stood up, giggling all the while, and draped herself around him. "I'm feeling fine, Joe. Wonderful, in fact." She breathed softly in his ear and let her hands wander under the tail of his jacket to reinforce just how fine she was feeling.

He jumped. "Jacqui!" he exclaimed. "My god, woman, you're blasted!" He wasn't sure how to react to this; the whole problem with their relationship had come about because she felt he wanted her just for sex - and now she was acting like this?

"Nah," she disagreed. "Just tiddly. A little tipsy."

"You need fresh air," he decided, taking her by the arm and heading for the door. Methos stopped him.

"Joe, lighten up. Jacqui is an adult - well over 21 - and if she wants to get 'tiddly', then she has every right."

"Actually," a small voice interjected, "I feel sort of funny now."

The men looked at the woman who had turned a strange shade of greenish grey.

"Bathroom!" both men cried as one.

"Feeling better?"

"Ooohh! No. I want to go home." She leaned weakly against the wall, taking large gulps of cool fresh air.

"I'll take you home. You, Old Man, you can help."

"Me? Why?"

"Because if she passes out on me, how do you think I am going to get her upstairs? You got her into this state; you're responsible."

"Just a few more feet, Jacqui honey, then you can collapse on the bed."

Under Joe's guidance the woman staggered and slipped her way across the polished wood floor to the large bed and fell face down across it. Methos followed behind with the folded wheelchair from the trunk of Joe's car.

"Where do you want this?" he asked.

Joe indicated a spot beside the bed. "Might as well unfold it for me and put it there. I'll be staying here tonight - in that chair since there are no others in the apartment - and I might as well be comfortable."

"I could bring you an armchair from my apartment," offered the Immortal.

"Does it have wheels?" snapped the Watcher. "I'm not damn well wearing these," he tapped the prosthetics with his cane, "all night."

"Do you think we should leave her like that?" enquired Methos. "Maybe we should undress her and put her to bed properly."

Joe considered. "Well, it won't be comfortable for her with jeans and boots on - but I really don't really want to mess with her clothing more than that."

"Right. Just her jeans and boots," agreed the Immortal. He began to loosen the buckle of her belt and got shoved roughly out of the way.

"I'll do that! You get her boots."

Methos grinned to himself as he began to untie the heavy walking boots. When they had stripped her to T-shirt and panties, and after Methos had arranged her on her side, they threw a light blanket over her unconscious form and left her to sleep.

The smell of coffee and cooking drifting from the kitchen area teased Jacqui awake. As soon as she woke, she realised that food would be a mistake.

"Morning, darling," called Joe cheerfully as she rushed past him on her way to the bathroom.

When she had finished throwing up, she turned to find him by her side, with a tray across his lap, containing a glass and a jug of cold water.

"Rinse and spit a few times first," he told her. "Get rid of the taste. Then you can drink some, but only in sips. Once you've had about a pint of plain water I'll give you some coffee."

"Uuuh" was all she could say.

Jacqui sat on the edge of the bed, sipping carefully at her coffee and nibbling dry toast.

"What did I do last night?"

"Don't you remember?" Joe grinned. "Well, you took off all your clothes and danced on the tables, then swung from the light fixtures." At her look of horror, he laughed.

"Actually it wasn't that bad. You drank a fair proportion of my liqueur shelves, giggled a lot, flirted with Adam, goosed me, threw up and passed out."

"Bad enough," she muttered.

He grinned again. "Never again?" he asked. "You did have good reason to tie one on - but I think you over did it for a first time."

"Never again," she vowed. "Joe, what am I going to do?"

He sighed. "That depends. If you really want to go leave town, I'll buy you a ticket to Chicago."

"Joe, I lost my passport when I my handbag was stolen. I have to get another replacement ticket home and there are no flights to Chicago until the day after my flight is due to leave."

"I think a seat on a flight might have opened up by now," he told her. "And the police called this morning - your purse was handed in, with your passport inside and your air tickets too. Your money and credit cards are gone however."

She frowned. "But Joe, my tickets weren't in my handbag, they were here. And they were stolen from here. And how could a seat just 'open up', when every flight was fully booked?"

He winced. He had a fair idea how it could happen but how could he explain that two old, rich, highly resourceful Immortals had decided to play matchmaker?

"Joe?" she said.

"I don't know, Jacqui," he lied. He took her hand. "Do you want to leave?" he pressed.

She hesitated and he went on. "If it's the other night that is holding you back, let me just say that while sex with you is great, that's not all I want from you. I like your company. I want to be around you. I want to be your friend, if you won't have me any other way. If you wanted me to take a vow of celibacy to be with you, I'd.I'd think about it. Think seriously."

She smothered a laugh. "Oh, don't do that!" she chuckled. "Oh, Joe, I'm sorry I got cross. I didn't mean to hurt you - I just get so mixed up inside when I'm around you."

"So you'll stay?"

She shrugged. "I really should go home before my money runs out, Joe."

"You don't have to spend a cent while you're in this town," he assured her. "Adam says the flat is yours for as long as you want - even if you get an extension to your visa."

"Doesn't he have to ask his friend about that?" she queried.

Joe gave her a lopsided smile. "Actually, no. Adam wasn't being very truthful when he told you that you were 'flatsitting'. He owns this whole building - he's your landlord - and you should be honoured; he doesn't normally care for neighbours."

That raised her eyebrows. "Just how rich is he?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I really don't want to ask. He's not too rich to bum a beer though."

She giggled. "Is anyone?"

He grinned in return. "I guess not. No one gets rich by spending too much money on beer." He hesitate a moment and repeated his earlier question, "Will you stay?"

"I guess so," she agreed.

He reached for her, pulling her into his lap for a kiss to seal the agreement. The kiss lasted a long time and during it, it became quite apparent that he was pleased with her decision.

"Oh my, " she murmured. Then she drew back and sniffed herself. "I'd like to take you up on that, but I can't be very nice to be near."

"Darling, you're always nice to be near," he told her, "but, yes, a shower wouldn't hurt. Wouldn't hurt for me neither."

A gleam lit her eye. "We could take it together. You could wash my back and I could wash yours - and there's that Jacuzzi thing. It has that seat that swings out and up for you to get into it."

"Now that sounds like a good idea," he chuckled. "I must admit that sitting in this chair all night watching you wasn't comfortable. I'm stiff."

"I noticed," she grinned.

The bathroom had to be a standard fitting for this apartment - between the time he had told Methos of Jacqui's problem and the time Methos had offered it to her, there had not been time to have a special one fitted - but by chance it was eminently suitable for Joe.

The shower stall was actually a small room, large enough for two or even three people to shower in, with multiple showerheads, all completely adjustable for height, direction and pressure. The floor sloped gently towards the drain at the back of the room, eliminating the need for a lip at the door, and there was both a seat and handholds at various heights.

Jacqui stood under the outer set of showerheads, silhouetted against the light from the door. Joe watched admiringly as she bent forward to soap and rinse her legs and feet, a position that emphasised her well-shaped thighs, calves and buttocks. Her breasts swung as she moved.

When she moved on to start on the breasts themselves, he groaned inwardly and arranged the washcloth over his lap. God, she was beautiful, he thought. Then she bent down again to pick up the bottle of shampoo from the ledge at her feet.

He cleared his throat to get her attention. "Want me to wash your hair?" he suggested.

She grinned back at him. "Sounds like a good idea," she agreed. "I like having my hair washed for me." She came across to sit on the floor in front of him, between his thighs.

He took the shampoo from her hand and adjusted the showerhead at his side to wet the hair fully. Then with a small amount of shampoo in the palm of his hand, he began to work up a lather.

Jacqui's hair wasn't long - a neat shoulder length bob, but it was soft and silky and thick. He loved to run his fingers through it and he loved the smell of her favourite shampoo.

With the rich herbal scent of the shampoo filling his nostrils, he worked the lather gently through the strands and then let the water rinse the foam from them. His fingers massaged her scalp and neck, paying special attention to the hollows on either side of the point where the skull joined the spine. He could feel the knots of tension from her disturbed night unravel as he worked and she leaned back against him.

"Sit on my lap," he murmured, "so I can reach your back."

She sat on his lap, straddling his thighs and leaning slightly forward. He put the shampoo down on the shelf by his side and picked up the bar of soap. Wetting it, he rubbed it between his hands to work up a rich foam, which he them applied to her back.

Starting at her shoulders, he ran his hands gently down the contours of her torso to her waist, then using stronger strokes he worked upward and outward from her spine back up to her neck.

Jacqui sighed contentedly and relaxed back into his strokes. She squirmed back on his lap, trapping his growing erection between their bodies. He found himself nestled into the crease of her buttocks.

His hands became more adventurous, caressing the sides of her breasts on his downward strokes, reaching further and further forward. Soon he gave up on her back and began to massage her front.

Breasts, belly, thighs - as far round as he could reach. Studiously he avoided giving serious attention to the area of her pubic mound, instead letting his fingers merely brush it lightly in passing while working on her inner thighs.

Water from two showerheads ran over their bodies as he worked, giving him an idea. He removed one of the heads from its bracket and adjusted the spray to a fine, powerful needle of warm water.

Jacqui felt the jet of water play across her clitoris. It was an odd sensation but pleasant. There was no friction, nothing solid to push against. She shuddered in pleasure.

"Sit on me, honey," Joe begged her. "No, don't turn around, just stay as you are but sit on me."

She raised herself a few inches and let him guide her down onto his penis. As she enfolded him, he directed the water spray onto her clit with his left hand, while his right hand captured a breast, kneading it like bread and rolling the nipple between his fingers.

He couldn't thrust in this position but instead enjoyed the warm wet tightness of her core. As the stimulation of the water both excited and frustrated her, Jacqui squirmed, impaling herself further on his cock. Her rocking motion excited him but even the violent contractions of her orgasm when it came did not tip him over the edge.

Sated for now, Jacqui leaned back against him, turning her head to kiss his bearded cheek. "Your turn now" she whispered.

She slipped from his arms and knelt on the floor between his thighs. His rampant erection pulsed as she kissed its tip and ran her tongue gently around the head.

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, she took the organ into her mouth. Teeth covered by her lips, she 'bit' him, 'eating' her way downwards to the base. She took the showerspray from his hand and directed its powerful jet at his balls and the sensitive area just behind them, while she withdrew, letting her tongue trail fire along the ridge of skin on the underside of his cock.

Joe groaned and wound his fingers through her damp hair, guiding her rhythm as she took him deeper into her mouth. Almost roughly he forced her head up and down while she sucked and manipulated him with her tongue, teeth and lips.

The sensations were overwhelming. The water jet stimulated the vulnerable spot halfway between his testicles and anus and Jacqui's oral ministrations were becoming more enthusiastic as she realised just how much he was enjoying them. The orgasm took him by surprise and he felt himself shoot helplessly into her throat.

Later they lay together basking in the hot tub, Jacqui's head resting on his shoulder.

"Joe? Do you think I should?" she asked.

"Should what, honey?"

"Extend my stay," she explained.

His heart leapt. "That's up to you, sweetheart," he said cautiously. "Can you afford to stay? You said you were afraid of running out of money."

She nodded slowly. "I've been working out my finances," she told him. "If I'm living rent-free here, then I should be able to make the redundancy money last for a few more months."

Gently he turned her around in the water to face him.

"Do you want to do that?"

She nodded.

"Then let me help. There could be a lot of paperwork involved and red tape. I do have some contacts and I can speak to the immigration authorities on your behalf."

"You'll have to help me," she admitted. "I have no idea how to go about it, not even where to start."

"Leave it to me," he assured her. MacLeod and Methos could use their resourcefulness on her behalf this time.

Jacqui laid a dry towel over the seat of the wheelchair and handed another one to Joe as he transferred himself from the tub to the chair. Then she wrapped her own towel around her torso and tucked then ends into themselves at the bust.

Joe studied the result of her 'dressing' and grinned.

"Do you know, you look good in a towel," he told her. "It leaves more to the imagination than it hides - and what it reveals looks pretty good to me."

She regarded him archly. "I thought you said you wanted me for more than my body," she queried, only half-joking.

"I do, I do," he assured her, "but can I help it if the view from this angle is spectacular and gives a man ideas?"

She giggled. "What kind of ideas?"

In reply he snatched at her hand and pulled her into his lap. "Hold on tight," he told her as he began to wheel across the bathroom to the door.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Joe! What are you doing?"

He kissed her soundly. "Carrying you across the threshold," he answered. "Carrying you off to bed."

The End

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