AN: Wow, yet another long wait from a very unreliable author. I'm going to stop apologizing because it's getting to the point where they don't mean anything anymore. I've overused my right to say it. So instead, I'm just going to hope you enjoy the long overdue update.

Warning: Sexual content contained within. This is mainly a physiological chapter done mainly through the use of sex/power and chit chat. You have been warned.

Chapter 31

Her eyes snapped open but she didn't move, the odd, unaccustomed weight across her stomach kept her still. Trying to breathe slowly and quietly, she let her eyes slowly adjust to the dim light of the room, the only source came from the rays of the bright moon dissipating in from the open window. Lisa let her eyes slide to the side before allowing her head to barely cant to the side in order to take in her surroundings and discover what was on her. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized it was a sleeping Jackson and that it was his arm that lay possessively just below her chest. He lie on his stomach, his face turned away her. She had never seen anything like this before, never experienced a moment during her shared time where he was completely physically vulnerable to her. He had looked exhausted, had for days now but even then she never would have thought to see him asleep while she was awake. She couldn't help the odd smile that touched her lips. The moment she became aware of the expression however, it dropped. So what if he was asleep. What could she possibly do with this new revelation? It's not like she would kill him. It wouldn't solve anything. It would just get her father killed and then her. Sure Jackson Ripner would be removed from the world but after all of her talks with Angie, she knew that another would just take his place in a matter of hours. She was one woman, one simple woman with simple means and simple desires. She sighed. What was she becoming?

The arm around her suddenly tensed, the hand that lie passively against her side only moments ago, now actively gripped her and very slowly, the face that had been turned from her came into view as Jackson twisted his neck to look at her. Lisa held her breath and almost laughed at the surprised look on his face. She was certain that it could have been the masculine mirror to hers once she'd woken only minutes before.

"Lisa." His voice was touched by sleep but he sounded as alert as he ever did.

"Jackson." She returned. "You were asleep." She supplied the obvious but the meaning behind it was easily conveyed to the man who was clearly contemplating the same. He rose to his elbow, not removing his other arm and looked down at her.

"Yes." He confirmed, again with more meaning behind the word than its simple syllable supplied. "How long have you been awake?" He asked, his tone inquisitive but hesitant.

"A few minutes." She said quietly, looking off to the side and breaking eye contact. She felt the hand on her side lightly grip her but do nothing else as it seemed he was just confirming that she was indeed there and that this wasn't a dream. "What does that mean?" She whispered, bringing her eyes back to his. She expected a smarmy answer along the lines of 'I was tired' but instead that's not what he gave her. His eyes narrowed slightly as he considered her question.

"I don't know." It sounded so honest. "Tonight, before… what did that mean?" He used her same question against her. She knew what he was referring to, their oddly shared masturbation of one another. She had no idea. It hadn't been something she'd planned, that's for sure. It hadn't been a suggestion supplied to her by the other murderer for hire with whom she'd been spending so much time over the past few days. It had been spur of the moment. She'd wanted him to feel vulnerable, for him to be vulnerable and she'd succeeded. However, she hadn't anticipated her reaction to it. She'd thought it would make her feel powerful, maybe give her a renewed desire to work against him, deny him and maybe even feel somewhat like her old self but nothing like that happened. Instead, she had felt nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Then he'd touched her in the same way that she was touching him and she'd felt something again. Something that terrified her and though she hated to admit it, it thrilled her. She felt desire. She'd welcomed his touch even as she spat words at him that opposed the treacherous swells of conflicting emotions within her. She'd enjoyed that exchange, she hadn't fought against the pleasure he'd given her and she'd actually been pleased to cause his in return. It was horrifying and Lisa had no idea how to deal with it then, before she fell asleep, or how she was supposed to react to it now that they were both awake.

"I don't know." She answered honestly. It seemed while she'd mulled over the complex question before supplying her overly simplified answer, he'd been engaged in his own mental analysis.

"Was it the control?" It seemed he'd been considering something that paralleled her thoughts. The question sounded like he'd posed it as much to himself as he did to her. He wanted to know why she'd done it but he hadn't realized her internal struggles that had resulted. "Was it because I didn't take it away from you?" The way he asked, like he was trying to decode a cryptic message, one he desperately wanted to understand made Lisa feel unusual. Normally his questions were meant to irritate her, goad her into some emotional response. This was the first time he was actually trying to obtain some sort of real information from her. She answered without considering what the consequences might be.

"Maybe." Again, it was completely honest. She was still too flustered by the revelations of the night before to even consider engaging any kind of guile. She yelped when he unexpectedly slid his other arm under her and used both of them to hoist her to straddle him. He left his hands on her thighs and slowly let them slide up and down, from her knees to her hips. It made her shiver in a way that wasn't unpleasant and while she found her first reaction entirely too disconcerting, she didn't try to move off of him. "I want you to survive this Lisa." His words effectively made her stomach twist up on itself and made her look off to the side and away from those eyes that she could never accurately read. At this point, she was afraid that she might actually see something there, something that might change her. She felt like too much of that was happening already, without her desire for it.

"I don't know what you think you're doing Jackson but…" He cut her off by sitting up and attacking her neck with his lips.

"I'm not surprised Leese, because I have no fucking clue what I'm doing either." His teeth grazed against her skin causing her to break out in tiny shivers, raising her flesh in tiny bumps. "The only thing I'm certain of," he pulled the collar of her shirt to the side and nipped at the junction of her shoulder and neck, "is that I don't want Angie to see you as a threat."

"I don't know how to do that." Lisa moaned out, unconsciously grinding her hips against him before she realized she'd done it. "I don't know if I even want to do that."

"You don't want to die Leese."

"How would you know?" She asked as she put a hand on his shoulder in order to steady herself and maybe keep herself from pushing into him anymore.

"I know. You hate me but you don't want to die." He was back at her neck again but on the other side now, his other hand continued to slide against her thigh but now his thumb would brush against her core each time he reached the apex of his stroke. The fifth time he did it, she let herself press against it, quickly losing her desire to care if she gave him the satisfaction of responding to his touch. He was after all, responding very quickly to her touch as well as evidence by the way she could very clearly feel him through the layers of her shorts and his unbound pants.

"I do hate you. I hate you so much."

"I know." He said as he let both of his hands grip the bottom hem of her shirt before lifting it up to pull it off. She let him, raising her arm to aid him, even finishing the job for him while he resumed his actions on her thigh while his other hand reached behind her to unclasp her bra. The moment the supportive garment was out of the way, he latched onto one breast and she moaned as he lightly bit at her before worrying at it with his tongue. "You hate me," he reiterated as he switched to her other breast, "but could you ever grow used to me?" She didn't answer right away, too caught up in what he was now doing to her other nipple in combination with how he'd just ground his covered erection against her heated core.

"I…" She started but stopped, not knowing that answer.

He ceased his oral actions when she didn't answer. "Wouldn't you rather hate me but remain alive than be released from any feeling for me through death?" At that very moment, the thumb of his stroking hand snuck up the leg of her decidedly short shorts and under the elastic of her panties in order to stroke her directly.

"Yes." She moaned out but she wasn't sure if it was in answer to his question or because of his sinful touch.

"Good." She heard him say and if she could accurately hear anything in what he said, it was relief. He actually sounded relieved by her answer. He was telling the truth. He didn't want her to die. She'd known that all along but the quality of the desire had changed. It was no longer an indifferent desire to keep a possession but it had taken on a personal quality. Like nearly everything else that had happened over the past ten hours, she didn't know how to take that newfound information. She didn't know if she should take it as a good thing or if she should be scared by this new development from the man that had stolen her from her life, the man that had stolen her from her life as opposed to leaving her to her death. She groaned at the thought but she immediately knew that Jackson took it as positive reinforcement of what he was currently doing to her. It seemed his patience with her occasional grinding had come to an end. Instead of doing what any sane man might do, like roll her off of him and the remove the clothing that was in the way of his ultimate goal, Jackson reached off the side of the bed and grabbed something that must have been pressed between he mattress and the box spring, a knife. Lisa didn't even see what it was until she felt her shorts and underwear being neatly and quickly sliced away fro her body. She only actually saw it as he carelessly tossed it off the bed and into the corner of the room.

Lisa then did something she never actually thought she'd do, lost in her own confused desire, she lifted herself up and onto her knees while he pushed his pants and boxers down low enough to free himself. She saw him rub at the neglected organ with one hand while the other hand found her hip and silently begged her to move over him. She obliged and did once more when that same hand pulled her down. She impaled herself on him and while he filled her physically, his groan and the way he fell back with tightly closed eyes filled her in other ways. She lowered herself all the way down until her buttocks were flush against his upper thighs. She just sat there for what seemed like an eternity to both of them, while in reality; it was only about thirty seconds.

"Please." She heard and her eyes shot down to his that were actually looking up at her in a desperate sort of way, not pleading like his word would imply but there was something there. She gave in; she surrendered to her own sudden need, pushed over the limit by his unusual word and startling expression. Lisa raised herself up and let herself slide back down over him, both of them making sounds of pleasured satisfaction in the process. She did it again and then again until she'd built up a steady rhythm. She didn't stop when her thighs started to burn; she didn't stop when he started to push up into her from below. She didn't stop when she heard him mumble something that she couldn't make out and she didn't stop when that same thumb of his reached up and started to rub against her as she filled herself with him over and over again.

When she finally fell over the edge, she didn't scream or moan or cry out, she just let out a shuddered breath that felt louder to her than any of the other normal cries of exclamation ever would have. He either knew she had reached her orgasm or had just been at the same point as her because just as she was coming back to herself, she felt him tense below her. She looked down to see his face contorted into a nearly pained expression as his hands grasped her thighs and slammed her down onto him. Holding her tightly against him as he poured into her.

"Fuck." She heard him mutter a second later as she sat panting above him. He let go of her hips, his arms falling bonelessly to his sides. "Well Leese, not to sound like a broken record but what did that mean?" Stunned and conflicted, she spoke.

"I was about to ask you the same thing."