Lost: Jack and Kate - The Call

"How did it go?"

Kate leaned on the balcony railing and tilted her head up, looking out for stars on the night firmament. She had never been particularly fond of gazing into the starry sky, seemingly a romantic activity, but she couldn't help the irrational anxiety about gravitation somehow ceasing to exist and she'd be pulled off the Earth into the darkness of cosmic vacuum.

The island brought a change. The sky above it so strewn with the twinkling dots, that if she had stared long enough, it seemed almost bright. And then there was him, strong arms encircling her firmly as he laughed at her absurd worry, explaining to her for a hundredth time about the laws of physics, unwearyingly, like to a child, and she puckered at him saying that it wasn't about knowledge or ignorance, yet still sunk deeper into his embrace, pleased to have this rational bright mind next to her.

They used to watch the stars together, making up their own constellations.

Here, back in civilization, the bright city lights deadened the stars. She looked ahead to watch their red and yellow flickering, spreading like boundless sequined sheet below her.

The breeze flapped her thin shirt against bare skin, as she reveled in the beloved sound of his voice on the phone.

"As usually. Boring," he said across the distance with a sigh and she could just see him slumping on the hotel bed, pulling his tie off jadedly.

"You sound tired, baby" she frowned, wishing to be there and ease the strain out of his shoulders with a soothing massage.

"Never too tired to talk to you," he said and she knew he was smiling at her use of the endearment.

Her own lips curled up involuntarily, and she closed her eyes inhaling deeply.

"I hate it when you go away," she admitted openly, aware it wasn't going to change anything. Medicine was his first love. And she loved him too much to demand cutting back on it; even though he talked of boredom, she knew it was really fatigue speaking, that he had probably lost himself into discussions with fellow surgeons, always curious and always eager to learn. His sharp intellect one of the main things she adored about him.

"Kate -- "

Palm rubbing over forehead, much in his very manner, she quickly straightened herself. "I know, I'm sorry. I just miss you so much -"

"It's only been a couple of days," he said softly.

"A couple of days too long."

"I told you, you could have come along."

"And do what? Go shopping?" she sneered, never fitting the stereotype of a doctor's preened wife. "Besides, I'd get fired for such random holidays."

"At least we'd have the nights," he said in his best seductive tone, making her heart leap, as her attention switched to the afterglow of his large but deft hands on her body, how they had perfected the dance.

"I thought you were supposed to be all fresh and perky first things in the morning?" she giggled.

"You could definitely make me perky," he chuckled.

"What about fresh?"

"Let's see... There's a very nice Jacuzzi bathtub here... I think we could actually make it without flooding the people below," she could hear a smirk in his voice.

A blush crept up her face at the memory.

They had been taking a country weekend break, staying in a low-key village hotel. She had pulled him into the tub, undeniably too small for two people, but she'd just acted on a gleeful impulse, and he had looked so sexy in the wet clothes, water dripping off his closely-cropped hair when he'd hovered above her... They both had felt it, a heated surge of sheer hunger for one another as she'd grabbed his head to kiss him deeply, and then had been pulling at his clothes in frenzy, in unnecessary haste, needing to feel him again. He had taken her there, their coupling turning so fervent, loud wordless moans echoing through the tiled walls, that they hadn't noticed either the open tap, or splashing of all water out, onto the floor. Not until a very upset occupant of the room below had yelled it out a few minutes later.

"Oh god, that was so embarrassing," Kate giggled nervously.

"It was," he agreed. "But worth it."

His breathless Kate, and their wet bodies colliding, sliding against each other, skin warmed by the water, and the secure grip of his hand on her hip, and the carnal look in his eyes, when he had tilted her pelvis up and told her exactly how she had been making him feel --

"It was," she confirmed quietly after a beat, her lips tingling at the picture in her mind.

There was a moment of silence on the other side of the line, just enough to make her wonder if Jack longed for her just as much as she for him right now.

"Kate?" she could hear it in his voice, lower and huskier, just like when he had spoken to her that night, just like he always did when his hands would find her hips and his mouth the crook of her neck.

"Yeah?"

"What are you wearing?"

Bursting into a fit of strained giggles, she wanted to protest, thinking that it was such a guy's thing to ask and finding it both amusing and endearing.

"You wanna hear that I'm naked, don't ya?"

"C'mon Kate, just humour me," he coaxed.

It was getting chilly, but that was not really the reason Kate stepped back into their bedroom, absentmindedly trailing her finger along the window frame and then the curtain as she went. She glanced to his side of the bed. The one she claimed every time he traveled away.

"A shirt," she said playfully, catching a reflection of herself, clad in the oversized garment in the mirror.

"Just a shirt?"

"It's yours."

She knew he loved seeing her in his clothes, finding it cute and a turn-on; he'd said it played up the difference between their sexes and made her look even more feminine, but also that it was something intimate and it melted his heart to watch how comfortable she was so close to him.

"The one you wore before you left," she specified, fingering the navy blue cotton. "It smells like you..."

Kate could hear him let out a breath over the phone. "Now it smells like both of us," he spoke softly.

"No. The sheets smell like both of us," she stated, making him chuckle.

"God, Kate, you're not helping here."

"And what are you wearing, Jack?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me; I want to plant a nice vivid image in my head, too."

"Well, I'm not naked either. Yet," he offered enticingly and Kate grinned to herself, happy with that fun side of him and happy that she could bring it out.

"Are you going to undress for me?" she teased.

"Wouldn't you like to do it yourself?" he shot back.

"You still in your work suit?" she muttered into the receiver, picturing him, handsome and elegant and serious, in that black suit and burgundy shirt, as she had seen him in the airport, and she recalled a brief thought, that he looked so incredibly sexy in his clothes, but beneath them was sexier yet, unlike most people, who would lose some of their appeal when stripped down. But he, he was not only spotlessly beautiful. Along with the clothing, he would shed the unimportant build-up of civilization, coming to her in his gloriously naked, pure humanity. Not as a doctor, a husband, a citizen, a respected member of association such-and-such. Only as the good, strong, caring man she had fallen in love with.

"The jacket's gone," he told her slowly, making her imagine the actions, done in no hurry, just for her eyes. "The tie is gone," he continued, pausing for effect, as if actually undressing at the very moment. "Shoes off --"

Kate held her breath picturing him stretching his long limbs like a big cat, like a stunning wild animal.

"Would you like to unbutton the shirt?" she heard him on the phone.

"Which one is it?"

"White."

"I like it. You look so sharp in it. I'd be careful, each little button, one by one," she played along. Unwittingly, her hand fingered a button of the shirt she was wearing, toying with the loop.

"Now you're patient. That's a new one," he teased.

Kate's nose wrinkled as she squinted. "I am not. But I'd want to play with you."

"Let's play then," his smoky voice tickled her ear like a caress of his warm breath, sending a shiver down her spine.

In the dim room, she settled on the bed, his familiar scent enveloping her instantly like a comfortable blanket. Kate sank into his pillows, receiver by her ear.

"I think you might want to take a shower," she said to him, eliciting an amused chuckle.

"Are you implying that I'd offend your nose?"

"Quite the contrary and you know that," she replied seductively. "I'd want nothing more than to breathe you in," she murmured the last part, turning on the bed to inhale his musky scent on the sheets. How she missed him so close to her -!

"You just want to get me naked?"

"Touche!" she smiled, catching a reflection of her own sparkly gaze

"I like it when you undress me, Kate -" he muttered huskily.

Kate closed her eyes to evoke the perfect picture of his solid chest in her mind. Recalling the firmness of his toned flesh and how he let her roam her hands across it as much as she wanted to.

Instead, her hand found the curve of her neck, stroking it gently.

" -- when you initiate sex," he finished, making her thighs squeeze together instinctively at his dare, familiar warmth pooling in their junction.

"What would you do now, Jack?" she breathed into the phone.

"I'd tear your shirt open."

His upfront statement hit her like a wave of heat, radiating through her body from her ear, as she recalled the shade of his eyes when he let his lust drive him.

"Jack, you can't do that -- " she started half-heartedly, his habit of tearing on her clothes both amusing and exciting to her.

"We both know that you enjoy it just the same," he said and she blushed in the darkness and solitude of their bedroom. She could picture the knowing smile on his face. He could read her faultlessly, always attentive during their lovemaking, cataloguing her responses to perfect his caresses, to make her weaken and melt instantly under his expert touch.

And the arch of her back, the dig of her nails into his shoulders, the strangled oh hadn't obviously been lost on him when he first tore her underwear off.

"It's my shirt after all," she heard him smile.

"I do like it," she told him, teasingly. "The shirt."

She loved teasing him, flirting with him, to feign the resistance which there had never been a trace off, he had never really need to do anything to for her to be his.

He knew this now, of course.

"Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"Take it off."

It was the kind of calm yet confident demand she had no power to feign resistance to. Putting down the phone, she got rid of the garment, skimming the sides of her breasts in the process and shutting her eyes in longing for his deft fingers there.

"Done," she picked back the phone.

"What would you do now, Kate?" he echoed her words.

"I'd wrap my arms around you," she whispered, "I'd like to feel you tight against my breasts," she thought of the ticklish hair on his chest, her own palm grazing one nipple lightly, unable to stop herself, in need of any kind of touch.

She heard him suck on air.

"Oh, Kate," he huffed out. "Your breasts. They're my undoing," he paused. "You're making me hard, Kate. Just talking about it -- it's making me so hard."

"You're making me wet," she whispered, feeling the thick lush need for him seep between her thighs.

"Oh god," he let out a frustrated groan. "You should be here with me. I need you with me."

"I'd suck on your earlobe, just to hear your breath quickening," she offered, the sound always turning her on more, making her rub herself against his body, just as she rubbed against his pillow now, which she pulled from underneath her and was holding tightly to her front.

"When you do that, Kate, you make me want to rip something off of you again," he chuckled lightly.

"There's not much left," she tempted him, fingering the outline of her panties, nearing the crease of her thigh.

"I know," he said. "But I'd want to play with you too."

Kate both smiled and shivered at her talented lover's -- her husband now -- determination. She had sometimes wondered, if it was just them being such a perfect match, or could he make any given woman's toes curl and make her scream even if she had never been vocal. But whenever pried about his past, he'd make a joke and say he didn't remember.

"I'd want to kiss down your neck, to hear that little sound you make, and then hear it again," he said, and she felt warmer, recalling his complete focus on pleasuring her.

"God, your hair, it smells so good, so sweet and feminine," he continued, as if lost in his imagery of her.

She could almost feel his lips grazing the column of her throat, nose buried in her tousled locks, and then he'd grow more aggressive, sucking harder on the delicate flesh, his stubble scraping it deliciously.

"Jack?"

"Hm?"

"Have you shaven?"

"In the morning, yes," he answered purposely. "But I'm all scratchy again, just the way you like it."

"Mmmh," she murmured, "It feels amazing against my skin."

"Would you like me to scratch down to your breasts, Kate? Do you miss my hands on them?"

"Your hands...," Kate's palm closed over her breast, while she thought of his large manly ones, strong enough to hold her down if he wanted to, but only when she asked him to, and surprisingly gentle, when he played her body with all his love and knowledge of it.

"My breasts definitely miss them," she smiled dreamily into the darkness.

"They're such a perfect fit," he commented, and she recalled the morning when he caught her right after her shower, still naked and wet, and insisted on drying her off, both of them standing in front of their bathroom mirror, him behind her, and he dropped the towel eventually, mesmerized by their joint reflection, and brought his hands to cup her breasts, saying exactly the same thing.

"You just always know how to touch me --"

"I've learnt," he chuckled.

"But I'd want to touch you too, I'd want your nipples in my mouth to feel you push your hips into mine," she breathed, the heel of her hand pressing into her centre to soothe the aching for him there.

"I can't help it," he said.

"I know," she nodded even though he couldn't see it. "That's why it feels so good. Because you can't control it."

"You're killing me, Kate. I want you so bad right now, you have no idea."

"Are you hard for me, baby?" she breathed, parting her legs instinctively, as if he was to slide in between them any second.

"And what do you think?"

"I can think of ways to get you even harder," she murmured seductively, waiting for the words to form images in Jack's head. "Just need to get you out of the pants. God, I'd just love to touch you now, Jack...!"

"I can't think at all when you touch it, Kate," he confessed.

"When you're hard like this, Jack..." she recalled how fast it made her heart beat every time she'd feel him stiffen beneath his clothes. "I just feel you in me already, I recall."

"And the first time?" he asked hoarsely.

"I recalled my dreams."

"Jesus, Kate, you're driving me crazy", he huffed out the strained words and she imagined just how worked up he'd be now, imagined the lustful dark gaze his narrowed eyes would give her. It would almost scare her if it wasn't so infuriatingly arousing. "I want to touch you so much, feel your little panties. Are they soaked, Kate?"

"Yeah," she breathed, fingers stroking the damp crotch of her underwear. "It's too much, we don't need so much. But you just turn me on so... Jack..." she trailed off, closing her eyes and rubbing herself slowly through the material, all the time thinking of Jack's long fingers.

"Smell yourself for me," he urged. "You smell like sheer sex, baby, it's almost indecent. I love it, and I love that I'm the one who gets to smell you."

She slid her fingers down into her panties, gliding the copious moisture over her folds and moved her head to the side, breathing his scent in.

"Mmm, Jack... I'd love to kiss down your chest, the trail of hair on your stomach... I'd love to lick there... I know, I'd know that I'll have your gorgeous cock in my mouth very soon," the image, the sensation, all unfolded in her head. "But I'd like to kiss it through your pants first."

"You tease, you," he chuckled breathlessly. "You have no idea what you do to me with your mouth."

"Would this feel good, Jack? Would you like me to tease you?"

"Yeah."

"I'll do that, when you get back," the aching in her body was becoming unbearable, and she wrapped her limbs around his pillow, longing for his strong body against hers, sending her senses into overload when he touched and kissed and pressed himself to her.

She thought of his cock against her lips, hot and silky and so beautifully masculine, she wanted nothing more than to give him pleasure.

"I'd like to open your belt buckle, but then I love to watch you do it," she said.

"You do?" he sounded somewhat surprised, that there was something he overlooked about her preferences.

"Yeah, there's just something about it... As if you were saying I'm going to take you now, and you will be mine and mine only, whether you want it or not, because this is what I want," she told him openly, a tinge of embarrassment behind the statement when she realized it was really the typical 'aggressive male / submissive female' pattern she was confessing the liking of. But to yield to his sexual hunger felt so delightfully right.

He was silent for a beat and then his clearly aroused hoarse voice caressed her ear.

"I'll remember that."

"You ever had sex over the phone?" she asked him.

"You can hardly call it that," he chuckled

"What, don't remember again, I suppose?"

"You suppose right."

She smiled to herself at his stubborn secretiveness. Given the obvious experience he had in bed, she suspected he'd have quite a list of past lovers, but she really didn't want to imagine any other woman with him but herself. He was hers and hers only to have.

"Where are you, Jack?"

"In the bathroom, as requested," he added on a lighter tone. "You?"

"In our bed. Where you should be with me."

"Oh no, baby, you should be here. I'd have ways to make it unforgettable for you."

"Like...?" she rubbed the pillow against her mound and took hold of one breast, fondling it and pinching the nipple lightly. It did nothing for her need of him, only magnified it.

"How about you'd join me for the shower and I'd press you to the cool wet tiles front up, and hold you tight from behind so you could feel me well," he knew how it would make her lose all coherent thoughts to feel helpless and overpowered by his larger aroused body.

"Then I'd ask you to spread your arms and legs wide and stick up your bottom. I'd peel off your panties and go down on you like that..."

No one had ever loved her with his mouth like Jack did, with patience and dedication, so focused on and ignoring his own need, but that was only because it grew with every sound he elicited from her made it grow.

Her breath was coming into the receiver in short shallow puffs, pressing the pillow into herself and wriggling on the bed.

"You like this, don't you. Going down on me."

"You have no idea, Kate," he spoke slowly. "That you give yourself to me like that, that you open up for me like that... That you trust me... And that I know you'll let me bury myself in that heavenly body... That you let me come in there..." his own breath was getting heavier and she let herself moan at his words, thinking about his hot sensual mouth and his tongue, exploring her intimately.

"It's the most arousing thing I know. I could eat your pussy for hours."

Her hips were jerking up rhythmically into the soft pillow, her legs spread wider and her hand pressing on the soft object with more purpose now.